#ts song fic

[spncrscasey]

You’re Losing Me (s.r.)

Fandom/Characters: Criminal Minds - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 863

Summary: Some love lasts. Sadly, yours didn’t.

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, a singular petname, no happy ending (i’m sorry, i hate sad endings too but there was no way of fixing this lol)

a/n: i’ve been obsessed with song fics recently so i decided to do another one inspired by you’re losing me by taylor swift !! so hoping i did my baby spencer’s character justice and portrayed him well considering i’ve restarted this over 4 times and it still ended up shorter than i wanted it to- anyway i’m gonna close my eyes and hit post because the more i reread it the more i start hating it so hopefully yall enjoy reading this more than me while listening to my girl tay <3

“You’re just ending it!? I- I don’t understand.”

“Of course, you don’t Spencer!” You yelled, raising your hands in frustration.

You paced back and forth, looking around at the space you once called home, a concept that now seemed so distant, so foreign. You couldn't understand when everything began to unravel. One minute, you were the love of his life, the woman who he would go to the ends of the earth for, and the next, it was as if you didn't even matter.

He was always at work but on the rare occasions when he was home, he’d head straight to bed, somehow managing to skillfully evade any connection with you throughout the entire evening. The goodbye kisses, the random texts throughout his day, the nightly ‘I love you’s’— they had all slowly stopped as well. It was as if he was absent even when he was right next to you.

You attempted talking to him about it, trying to get him to open up and tell you what's bothering him. Yet, he consistently brushed you off, claiming, 'You wouldn't understand.' You hated being on the sidelines of his life, and you resented him even more for placing you there, little by little.

When had he stopped confiding in you?

The room where you now found yourselves arguing in was once a sanctuary of shared laughter and cherished moments. Its walls had witnessed endless expressions of love and happiness, but the light in it had started to dull.

You sighed, taking a seat on the armchair in the corner of the dimly lit room. You placed your head in your hands, exhausted from the constant screaming.

“When did you stop loving me, Spencer?” You whispered, almost inaudible, but he heard anyway.

The question had been circling your brain nonstop for the last few months. Did you do something wrong? Was there another woman? Did he just randomly fall out of love? Did he ever even love you in the first place?

So many questions, yet he couldn't seem to answer any of them.

You were waiting for him to say something, anything. To tell you that he never stopped, or maybe the exact moment he did. But it never came.

When he didn't respond you continued, “Was it something I did?”

He was quick to reply to that one, “No sweetheart, never.”

The pet name was like a slap to the face. ‘Sweetheart.’ A name that he hadn't used to refer to you in months. So what gave him the right to use it now when you wanted to break up with him?

“You don't get to call me that anymore.” You said, tone almost as sharp as the glare you were sending him.

He visibly flinched. You chuckled to yourself at his reaction, looking up, but there was no humor in your tone.

“I gave you everything Spencer! I showed you endless empathy- after particularly hard cases where all you wanted was to fall asleep, or when-” You took a breath cutting yourself off before continuing, “Or when you came back from prison and had a difficult time opening up, I understood and gave you your space.”

Your eyes had started brimming with tears threatening to fall. You didn't want them to. Didn't want to show him how much he's hurt you, how much his actions affected you.

You composed yourself before adding, “And what did I get in return? Your ignorance.”

When you finally locked eyes, you could see so much hurt in his gaze that you almost felt sorry for him. Almost. You didn't intend to cause him pain, but there was a strange satisfaction in knowing that he was experiencing the same level of hurt that had consumed you for the past few months.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he blinked rapidly, struggling to articulate his thoughts. The usually talkative genius was suddenly left in stunned silence, unable to say anything.

You both sat in quiet for a moment, air thick with indecision. You heard him take a breath and speak, breaking the silence, “I'm sorry, Y/N- I didn't know you felt this way. I didn't think my actions were affecting our relationship.” He paused before beginning again, voice lower, “I guess I just didn't realize I stopped loving you.”

Every word he uttered felt like a dagger plunging into your heart. Unleashing a flood of emotions that gradually drained the life out of you, pulse fading, too far gone to bring back to life.

“I guess being myself wasn't enough for you to see me.” You announced, rising from your seat, and heading towards the door.

You turned to glance at him one final time, the moonlight catching the strands of his messy brunette hair and casting a cool glow on his beautiful brown eyes. You wanted to capture every detail into your memory- the gentle crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his hair fell across his forehead, and the way his eyes sparkled with emotion.

You slightly smiled before twisting the doorknob, “Thanks for at least being honest with me.”

I can't find a pulse. My heart won't start anymore.

[tsfander]

“Want to guess the ending if it ever does?”

shading practice! also i’ll accept the title “that one artist who draws logan with flames all the time”

•open for better quality!! please repost 🫶🏻

Come and join our server, fellow fanders! https://discord.gg/3HJkMeRX

[just2bubbly]

ok hear me out, 'The Black Dog' is wolfstar coded and not just because of the literal connection with Sirius Black and his animagus but in general. The Dog is very obviously Sirius and the way she goes on building the first verse of long lost friendship and relationship- "I am someone who until recent events shared your secrets with" and that's easy to tell Sirius and Remus were one half of the Marauders and they were friends, lovers and obviously shared everything with each other. The location is the Marauder's Map and it could possibly be a memory that Sirius can't get out of his head while being in Azkaban that relates closely with Remus who is having the same flashback but at a bar or in a deep emotional capacity when he sees a black dog that reminds him of Siri. "She's too young to know this song" is Tonks (no offence to her but ye) the age gap is there, she was there when Sirius was alive and it was a visual representation of Remus choosing her above him. When Remus steals glances at Sirius when he thinks no one is seeing for 'old habits die screaming' and now he doesn't know what to do with this for he feels Sirius is too lost in despair. Post Azkaban Sirius is "moving through the world heartbroken" and with desires of having a friend in Remus if not a lover. "And it kills me, I don't understand"— is very clearly the chaotic mess inside Siri's head as he takes over his life after 13 years of imprisonment. "Now I wanna sell my house, and set fire to all my clothes," is perhaps the disdain with Grimmauld Palace and his past that he tried so hard to escape haunting him like a full circle. "This tail between your legs, you're leaving" is again his untimely death, too soon and a life too short with great regrets and glorious moments.

You can't tell me this song isn't about Sirius Black

[imgondeletedis]

~𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆.~ || 𝚊 𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒-𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. || 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚃𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚝. 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎

. 𝙼 .𝙰 . 𝚂 .𝚃 . 𝙴 . 𝚁 . 𝙻 . 𝙸 . 𝚂 . 𝚃 .

-started: Thursday, 4th of July, 2024.

𝟎𝟎. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Finished: -

a/n: i haven't finished writing yet so I am not gonna get ahead of myself and add or count how many chapters i am gonna write (which won't be ALOT because this is meant to be a mini-series till now), but i will add to and update this masterlist daily as soon as I finish writing something related<3 I love you all and I appreciate everyone who's invested in this💓🫶

[delimeful]

to know that song (and all its words) (11)

warnings: minor character death, violence & injury, panic, biases, lmk if i missed any

-

Virgil went through the footage once, twice, and then a third time, trying to understand the conflicting emotions that were unwinding in his chest.

He settled for rewatching the fight itself once more, because it was easy to tell how he felt about that. Each time, he’d watched with a sort of utter fixation, unable to look away despite the automatic, instinctual terror the scene incited in him.

He’d known, distantly, that the Humans were strong, built with dense flesh and flexible frames. He’d known that they could be lethal, that they sometimes moved in a stalk, with a sort of focused intent that reminded him of a predator.

Knowing these facts and seeing them put into action were two very different things.

On the tapes, the lights flickered out. The camera went dark for a half second before automatically enabling infrared mode.

In that brief moment of darkness, Square had already crossed a good third of the room on uncannily quiet steps. The recording refocused just in time to catch his first lunge.

The crack of a limb splintering was audible even from the camera’s tinny speakers. Before the victim’s paralyzer gun even finished clattering to the floor, the Human was moving on to his next swing, and his next.

Every alien in the room began scattering as the howls of the injured grew more frantic and more numerous. Some bolted for the boarding hatches, some for the door to the hall, some simply away from the crunches of violent impact. Almost all of them were left floundering in the dark, the few with functional night vision unable to move within the chaotic scramble.

Within moments, any raider with a long distance weapon had been taken out of the fight with brutal efficiency, and those who recollected themselves enough to lunge forward were met with the same fate.

Heartfelt returned, the emergency lighting casting their face in dim red glow that made the weapon in their hands and their uncharacteristically solemn expression stand out all the more.

They remained solidly on defense, guarding Square’s back with heavy, unhesitating blows, their expression growing more and more crinkled with each one.

In mere minutes, any aggressors had either been sent writhing to the floor or to an early grave.

The leader, the one who had so confidently made their proposal and deemed Virgil too stubborn to live, had fought more viciously than any of the others, and managed to knock the pipe clear of Square’s grip. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, the leader drew a two pronged viper’s blade from a hidden holster, and immediately tried to stab it forward into Square’s underbelly.

Square half-turned, letting the weapon pierce the meat of their shoulder with a grunt, and without faltering, they reached out to grab the leader’s head with both hands.

The twist was quick and clean, the snap of bone loud, the silence of the room afterwards somehow louder. The raiders didn’t need to be able to see the damage, not when they could hear the way their leader’s snarled threats had been so sharply cut off.

“Your leader is dead,” Square said into the pause, releasing his grip and allowing the body to fall lifelessly to the ground. They barely twitched as the viper blades were dragged out with the motion, their gaze flitting from silhouette to silhouette, watching for the next attacker. “If you don’t wish to join them, now is the time to surrender.”

Raiders were many things, but loyal to the death wasn’t one of them.

The surrender process was quick, almost rushed once the light came back on. Seeing the crumpled corpse of their leader had probably demoralized them. Square seemed distracted, overly so. He didn’t even set any negotiation terms at first, simply walking out and leaving control of the bay to Heartfelt.

Like he’d said, the fight was easy. The fight was terrifying.

It was what came after that was driving his thoughts to run in endless, maddening circles.

Heartfelt looked as though they wanted to follow after Square for a moment, but turned away. Instead, they faced the raiders, huddled against the walls in various states of distress.

They moved to pull the med kit off the wall, and then stepped forward, approaching the worst-off of the bunch with a slowness that made Virgil’s ruff prickle up instinctively, even having watched before. Even knowing who Heartfelt was.

The injured seemed to feel the same, with the babbled pleas for mercy as many of those nearby scurried further away from what they surely thought was an impending slaughter. Heartfelt’s face was pressed into thin lines of discomfort, but they kept moving to crouch next to the alien.

“Help, no hurt,” Heartfelt told them plainly, and then set the kit down and opened it.

The raider lunged the moment they turned their attention away, and Heartfelt flung up an arm on reflex to catch the sharp claws of the alien with a pained sound that they cut off mid-noise.

All eyes turned to the door, but Square didn’t return. They were retrieving him from where Heartfelt had stashed him, Virgil knew, and Heartfelt had muffled the noise of their pain before it could reach the others.

The Human reached out and unhooked the alien’s claws from their arm, suppressing a wince. “No, no,” they said firmly. “No hurt, okay?”

The alien seemed too dumbfounded by the fact that they were still alive to respond, and Heartfelt carefully moved their limb back to their side before returning with the bandages they’d been reaching for in the first place.

That was how the next few moments went, stemming the bleeding wherever they could and applying tourniquets for the more mammalian types. And through it all, they were watched with a sort of entranced silence, as though their actions were barely comprehensible to the raiders.

On the other vidfeed, Virgil could see his own pitiful form cradled in Square’s arms, too out of it to process that Noisy was only a few paces away or even that he was being held by someone who should, by all rights, terrify him.

But they didn’t.

The thought hit him like a rough-edged stone, startling and near painful in its honesty. Virgil stopped the tapes, pushed himself a few steps away from the interface and tried to process past the automatic terrified nausea that had formed at the sight of a fairly sturdy, battle-scarred alien being killed with one move.

The Humans were strong, lethally so. He’d known that, and now he really knew it. He understood why Sveve had spoken about the Humans being monsters with such conviction, pled for his help to escape with such sheer desperation.

He understood, but he didn’t agree.

Sveve had been aboard a ship that had almost mythologized the deathworlders they were hunting. The raiders had been seeking the Humans out since the start of their journey, had known their ultimate goal for however long the trip had lasted. The leader’s grand plot hadn’t worked out, but that didn’t change the fact that his Humans had been presented as powerful, violent beasts to the crew. Despite acting in their own defense, their devastating counterattack had only added a new layer of distortion to the raiders’ perceptions of them.

Virgil, on the other hand, had been aboard a ship with the three of them for cycles on end, with misconception after misconception being washed away the longer he spent in the company of any one of them.

Sure, he knew it was smart to be afraid of power like that. There was still a part of him in disbelief, waiting for his survival instincts and general antisocial nature to kick back in. He watched the most violent parts of the security tapes through multiple times, trying to find the part of his brain that would shift his instinctual fear into some sort of action, and… failed.

Maybe if it was the version of him from that first week of their cohabitation, when he was still seeing bared fangs in their smiles and aggression in their eye contact. But now?

Now, he couldn’t help but notice the way Heartfelt’s face scrunched up in misery even when fighting, the way Noisy curled in on himself during that stretch of darkness, the way Square had held him so extremely carefully, even when they were clearly deadly furious.

There was nothing monstrous about his Humans, his unwillingly-gained crewmates. They were just people, ones that had been forced to fight to survive, ones that had been backed into a corner at nearly every turn. He’d known as much long before now, even if he hadn’t acknowledged it aloud.

He turned the feed playback off, powering down the machinery. He’d seen everything he’d needed to see.

The navigation area was still dark and quiet as he left the record room, quickly skittering back out to the hall.

Of course, as soon as he got there, he immediately encountered Square, about five eerily-silent steps from entering the doorway Virgil had just scurried out of.

The doorway to the room that he absolutely wasn’t allowed to be in. Uh oh.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” he said immediately, somehow sounding about as guilty as someone who’d just been caught with a body at their feet and a murder weapon in hand.

Square inhaled slowly, and then let out a long, winded exhale, which they seemed to do a lot. “I somehow doubt that, but seeing as you’ve soundly rejected earlier opportunities to betray us for your own benefit, I’m choosing not to ‘freak out’ about it.”

Virgil paused, a little surprised despite himself. “I forgot about that. I mean, I forgot you knew about it.”

Square made an odd little snorting sound. “Well. You certainly seemed to feel very strongly about the matter while you were bedridden.”

See, this was why he hated it when he got hurt. His crewmates always insisted on using enough pain medication to make him way too chatty. Sure, anything less would have left him still steeping in agony, but what about the emotional pain of humiliation that came afterwards, huh?!

His expression had soured, but he still managed to pipe up before Square moved on. “I was looking at the vidfeeds.”

Square paused, gaze sharpening. “Pardon?”

“The security records. There are cameras on the ship, and all the footage is recorded and stored for future review.” Virgil stopped for a moment, a fragment of memory coming back. “That’s how they knew you three were aboard. There was a recording of the station you switched ships at.”

The lines of stress along Square’s brow seemed more pronounced than ever. “I understand.”

“I can show you how to erase them, before you leave,” Virgil offered, his antennae flattening back slightly in apprehension. “And, uhh… speaking of leaving. What are we doing with Sveve?”

Virgil wasn’t particularly fond of the guy from the few moments of conscious interaction he’d had with them, but he also didn’t really want to see them go the way of the leader for the crime of being annoying and a little pathetic.

At Square’s blank stare, he clarified. “The medic we abducted.”

“Oh!” Square frowned for a moment, aether full of contemplative, slightly confused feelings. “We had planned to release them on a nearby inhabitable planet. Maybe one with a port, depending on how fast you recovered.”

Virgil couldn’t help but laugh a little, even as his feathers drooped slightly with relief. “And the other raiders? Sveve said we were still attached to their ship.”

“If one could call it that, at this point,” Square replied, radiating a bit of smugness. “The vessel has only one piece of functioning equipment now, a distress beacon that we’ll activate remotely once we’ve gained some distance.”

Anyone responding to a distress beacon would be adjacent enough to the law to report the obvious raider vessel, meaning that their rescue would leave them facing legal charges and unable to pursue. Virgil chirped lowly, impressed.

A few doors away, Heartfelt appeared, holding a pile of machinery in their arms that was stacked higher than Virgil was tall. Despite being unable to see much past their burden, they barely seemed to feel the weight.

“I should go help him,” Square said, but glanced back down at Virgil one last time, something hesitant in their posture, almost apologetic. “We retrieved enough parts to rig up a temporary remote steering system, to use while you heal. I imagine that we won’t be the most graceful of pilots, so… What I’m saying is, everyone will be much happier once you’ve recovered enough to take the helm again.”

Virgil felt a little thrill of joy, unable to keep his ruff from fluffing up slightly at the confirmation that his fears had been unfounded all along. “I’ll try not to take too long,” he managed to respond, with only the barest embarrassing croaking to his voice.

Square nodded and hurried off to prevent Heartfelt’s teetering tower of metal, and Virgil huffed in amusement, turning to go track down Noisy and let him know that he was ready to take another nap.

It was amazing, just how relieved he felt to finally understand their arrangement. If they weren’t seeking retribution against Sveve, who had actively been on an opposing force, he seriously doubted they would kill him just to tie up a loose end.

Maybe it was a dangerous hope to foster, but Virgil couldn’t help himself. If this had probed anything, it was that the three of them saw him as far more than a simple, easily discarded tool, that much was obvious. It stood to reason that as long as he didn’t break any of the serious rules, they wouldn’t hurt him.

He might just make it out of this situation intact, after all.

[fairyhaos]

hii yenaaa, it's me again! i just wanna ask your opinion hhu as taylor swift's song???

- 🐾

seungcheol

wildest dreams. it's kind of an incredibly, almost painfully romantic song. it's kind of a whirlwind romance song? while it's certainly a little hopeless, there's yearning there, and there's also so much vivid, vibrant love at the same time, a kind of possession, of protectiveness even so. it's seungcheol because of the desperate, helpless love it describes, a 'i couldn't help but fall for you' vibe that is so him.

wonwoo

willow. the acoustic vibes of this song feel very wonwoo. there's a sort of undying, eternal love in the lyrics, an idea of always coming back to him, of forever finding endless comfort and wonder and new experiences while loving him. there's a certain domesticity to this song, and honestly the best way to describe it really is eternal love, constant love, comfortable and thrilling and warm all at once.

mingyu

daylight. it's a little youthful, bright, like mingyu. the song just exudes so much "happy ever after" vibes, at the end of a perfect romantic novel, and that's so mingyu. it's the epilogue song, heart filled with warm love, his smiles as sweet and gentle as the chorus of the song. it's hopeful, optimistic, beautiful.

vernon

we are never ever getting back together. lyrics aside, there's a lot of feel-good energy in this song which feels so vernon. honestly lots of taylor's old songs feel like they can match him a lot, because there's so much young energy, feeling a little like a boundless puppy, and i don't know. the self-assurance, the brightness, the pure pop, light feeling is something that just fits vernon.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @butiluvu @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride

[msmargaretmurry]

I wish you would write a fic where Dylan made it to the 2024 All Star Game (I am SO curious)

ohhh friend i wanted this so bad and i had SUCH a vision in my head of the mcstrome i would write about it if it had happened. (which it SHOULD have!!! i kind of get why the league tapped tom to go instead but dylan was the caps' leading scorer at that point in the season!!!!!! but it's fine because the asg was barely worth going to this year, if you weren't one of the few chosen for the skills stuff you were just sitting around all weekend anyway)

anyway it would have just been like a one-shot, a few thousand words about running into the guy you used to be in love with at this event you used to dream of getting to, back before the nhl turned out to be way harder for you than you thought it would be. and he's here attached at the hip with the guy who replaced you, and he belongs here, this is his event, and you're only here due to some fluke of your team's actual superstar having a slow start to the season. he keeps looking at you like he's not sure why you're here or what to say to you. or maybe you're projecting. whatver. but it's the all star weekend, so drinks are flowing, and even after all these years you know how to find him at a party — not that it's hard, because after all these years he still mostly watches from the sidelines. you just want to tell him you're proud of him for how he turned his team's season around after such a rough start. that you're still rooting for him. but there's something about the way he meets your eyes in the low light, the way you have to lean in to talk over the music, something about the alcohol and how it doesn't feel quite real that you're here — maybe this is an okay place to make the mistakes you were both too chicken to as teenagers.

[dazesanddoodles]

every house needs some music!

[grimesgirll]

what if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

guilty as sin? - taylor swift

[sassthatsarcasm]

cardigan

In a handshake line. Grip a crushing strength, almost enough to break his hand. Sweat beading on his tall nose, his icy eyes hot with grief. David snakes his arm up and clutches at Willy’s drenched hair, whispers, “I love you.”

No - further back. In a handshake line. Grip a crushing strength, nearly enough to break, certainly enough to hurt. Light eyes lidded to near darkness, that plush mouth flattened carefully to give nothing away. David brings his arm up, clutching at him.

Even further back - in a handshake line. Still young enough that the beard on Willy’s face is more of a suggestion. Still young enough Willy wears sorrow on his eyes and mouth like paint. David brings his arm up and -

Or maybe fast forward - David is holding his new wife, blindingly happy, smiling so wide his cheeks ache. Her sweet face pressed to his chest, his nose in her light hair - her eyes the blue of the sky spread out above them. The summer breeze feels like heaven on his skin. But he can’t help but feel - there’s a strange, small pit in his stomach, not quite an ache, more a memory of one. Like something’s missing.

He has never been more in love in his life. Has he? Well. Sometimes you say things when you’re a child, 17 and not knowing any better.

David whispers, “I love you.” Means it like he never has before.

[kjack89]

Saw Hadestown today, and you know what means…Orpheus and Eurydice AU.

Grantaire as our Eurydice, hardened, world-weary, who is so used to running but stays only because of his love for Enjolras.

And Enjolras as Orpheus, touched by the gods – “Or maybe just touched in the head,” Grantaire mutters, but with a smile just peeking out of the corner of his mouth. After all, he’d have to be touched to believe he can change the world, right?

(“Of course,” Grantaire adds, “what does it say about me that I love him for it?”)

But times are hard and getting harder and changing the world doesn’t pay the bills, or keep the fire going or food in their bellies. And Grantaire—

Well. You know what they say of the frailty of man.

(“He’s gone,” Combeferre tells Enjolras, his hand heavy on his shoulder. “I am sorry, but this is one thing not even you can change.”

“He always said he would die for me,” Enjolras says, his voice broken. “I just never thought—“

His face hardens and he stands. “He said he would die for me,” he repeats, louder, stronger, iron banding his words and spine. “But I would kill for him.”

“You cannot kill the gods, or fate,” Combeferre says, exasperated.

Enjolras smiles, the sight chilling Combeferre to the bones. “Watch me.”)

And he goes after him, and his belief is strong enough to get him passage through the Underworld to Grantaire’s side, strong enough to bring Hades and Persephone back together, strong enough to convince Hades—

“There is a condition,” Hades says, his voice low. “You may leave, but not hand in hand. You will have to walk in front, and him behind.”

Enjolras squares his shoulders. “Fine,” he says. “We can—“

“Not you,” Hades says. “Grantaire will lead. And if he turns around to make sure you’re there, he returns here. Forever.”

But what choice do they have? The road is long, and dark, and Grantaire’s never been that good at belief under the best of circumstances.

And these are not the best of circumstances.

But he knows something Hades doesn’t know. Hades has looked at the whole of his life, at his lack of faith in anything, but like so many others, has never seen, or never understood, that Grantaire believes in Enjolras.

When Grantaire emerges into the triumph of the sun, he shouts his victory. (“Long live the Republic! I am one of them”.)

And he turns back to Enjolras.

(“Do you permit it?”)

’Cause here’s the thing

To know how it ends

And still begin to sing it again

As if it might turn out this time…

[lunar-years]

London Boy as a surprise song when royjamiekeeley go to eras tour. jamiekeeley going feral and doing a lot of finger pointing at roy while singing obnoxiously in his face because he's their london boy. meanwhile roy is one of those "this song is dumb there is no way you could go to all these places in one day. and why the fuck would you go to Camden Market in the afternoon" people

[naminethewitch]

I've been listening to this song a few times in a row now and... it so gives Logan and Remus vibes. At least in the worst timeline of where canon is heading. I mean:

Strike first Make it hurt When everyone assumes the worst I never have to say I'm sorry

Spiteful Ruinous I'm all things you feared I was Another villain in your story

You think that I'm a spitfire? You should Afraid you're on my bad side? That's good If I wanted to end you I could I could

I'm sinking down If you only knew how hard it is For me to climb out I'm kicking and screaming But no one can hear me So what happens now? The shadows are creeping in I didn't ask forI didn't ask for this

Logan, ignored so often, decides to change his tactics, Logan is orange theory vibes right there. He's not going to take it anymore and strikes back...

Cold rage Hides the shame Of images I can't escape Scars that live under the surface

It's strange What I became When part of me was ripped away And replaced with something worthless

You think that I'm a spitfire? You should Afraid you're on my bad side? That's good If I wanted to end you I could I could

I'm sinking down If you only knew how hard it is For me to climb out I'm kicking and screaming But no one can hear me So what happens now? The shadows are creeping in I didn't ask for I didn't ask for this

Remus, with the intrusive thoughts that plague Thomas, ripped apart from his twin and deemed the bad version of creativity. He decides to embrace it and loses himself in the morbid ideas.

Take what's left Of my fractured heart Bloodstained 'cause The pieces are so sharp

Take what's left Of my fractured heart Bloodstained 'cause The pieces are so sharp

I'm sinking down If you only knew how hard it is For me to climb out I'm kicking and screaming But no one can hear me So what happens now? The shadows are creeping in I didn't ask for I didn't ask for this

Never forget I didn't ask for this

Both of them, trying to reach Thomas in a desperate plea to be heard.

[softspiderling]

I noticed a lot of HOTD girls are swifties and I cannot for the life of me figure out the correlation

me neither omg😭

[delimeful]

to know that song (and all its words) (10)

just like virgil, it's time we get to look at the raiders' attack from a few different perspectives :)

warnings: violence, blood and injury, implied minor character death, guilt, fear, lmk if i missed any

-

CAMERA LOG SF 7

DESIGNATION: LOADING BAY

20:34:27

“You hurt him,” Patton said, and he barely even recognized the sound that came out of him as his own voice.

The crowd of aliens was frightening, the way all aliens were to him, but there were some advantages to being monsters, and one of them was that aliens were scared of him back. They parted before him like leaves scattered by a leafblower, his steps unimpeded as he made his way to where a bundle of familiar feathers and fuzz laid. Unnatural, twitching movements spasmed through them, but they hadn’t gone deathly still– not yet.

Whatever the leader alien was saying was lost to the distant buzzing in Patton’s head. Logan’s response made it through, just barely. His voice had dropped into that icy pitch that meant he was well and truly angry, an ominous tone that made something primal and hunted in the back of Patton’s mind shiver to life.

Be ready, it said. We’ll have to fight soon.

He hated fighting more than anything else in space, even the tests. He hated seeing the fear set in, with bristling spines or flinching spikes or rolling, panicked eyes. He hated the way alien bones and bug shells gave way so easily, like they were made of hollow styrofoam or old eggshell.

Feathers’ arm was broken, snapped with a nasty, jutting-out bit of bone that made him feel sick to even see. Patton remembered the chalky taste of shock when he broke his wrist as a kid, the way the hurt had overwhelmed everything, the cautionary tales about grabbing little creatures or bothering baby birds, because they would die from the shock and the stress sometimes.

Aliens were so much more delicate than the little beings back home.

There’s a sob, somewhere in the back of Patton’s throat. He folded it down carefully, because he was surrounded by danger and because Feathers was still alive, and so he couldn’t just give up or break down, not even with all his fear and dread mixing into a horrible, pulsing mess in his gut.

Feathers had always been spirited, from the first moment the three of them snuck onto the little guy’s ship. Patton repeated this to himself like a mantra as he crouched next to them, feeling his lips wobble a little at the sight of their little head craning slightly to see him.

Their eyes narrowed into little crescents, and they made a small, warbling chirp that seemed to get a little tangled halfway through the sound. Feathers had made a lot of sounds, but none of them had ever sounded like this. The high pitched whistling breaths sounded a lot like almost-whines, like a hurt dog begging for help, but Feathers didn’t even seem to know that they were making them.

The alien leader kept speaking as Patton carefully slotted his hands under Feathers’ small, too-light form. The cadence of the words was songlike and mocking, and Patton could practically feel the way Logan’s ire sharpened to a honed point, aimed directly at them like the tip of a saber. Whatever the stranger had said, it hadn’t helped their case at all.

And that was saying something, considering that they’d already dug the hole pretty deep by hurting Feathers, who they’d all grown attached to despite Logan’s best efforts.

Patton has to blink back the automatic tears when he sees Feathers’ arm up close, trying his absolute hardest to lift them into his arms without jarring the injury. He had to hurry; the last thing they needed was for Patton to be stuck on the wrong side of the room with precious cargo during their plan.

Feathers was still conscious as Patton made his way back over to Logan’s side, the hair on the back of his neck prickling in nervous anticipation all the way. They seemed… out of it, their antenna flicking in strange little circles and their feathers puffing up and smoothing back down as waves of trembling pain seemed to work through their little body.

Patton clutched them a little closer, exchanged a brief look with Logan, and scrunched his eyes closed, knowing that he’d need the advantage once Roman flipped the switch. Next to him, Logan would be doing the same, only keeping the slightest sliver of vision to make sure they weren’t ambushed.

Even knowing it was coming, he still flinched away from the burst of noise when Logan whistled the signal.

The final whistle had barely faded into silence when the orange-pink of the back of his eyelids flicked to an unmistakable pitch black.

For a moment, Patton was back in the labs. He moved to grasp for Roman in the dark, knowing that the only way he could help him through these punishments was to grab on and hold tightly, prove that he wasn’t alone in the dark through whispered words and interlaced fingers.

The only thing his hand found was empty air, and next to him, the silhouette of Logan moved.

Right. He had a different friend to look after this time, and if he didn’t hurry, he’d be leaving Logan to deal with an entire ship’s worth of armed aliens on his own. The moment of disorientation would serve as an effective distraction for a few moments– but only that.

He twisted on his heel, ignoring the sicking crunch of impact from a few feet away to lunge back through the doors they’d come in through, turning and sprinting down the hall for onetwothreefourfivesix long steps and turn again, reach out and there was the little open shelf area built into the wall for storage.

This was where he tucked Feathers, the lowest part of the shelf, pushed to the back corner, his heart breaking a little at the pain they were so obviously in.

He left them there with a whispered promise to return, his heart pumping rapidly as he bolted back to where he could hear shouting and the beginnings of screaming, steeling himself as he picked up the heavy section of pipe Logan had left leaning against the wall outside.

They were in this together. No matter how much he hated it, he hated the idea of not standing between his best friends and death– or worse– more.

With a shuddering inhale, he plunged into the fight.

–

CAMERA LOG SF 9

DESIGNATION: CONNECTOR HALL 3

20:40:56

When the sudden darkness hit, Logan’s eyes had been slightly cracked, and so his vision was still partially impaired.

So, for the first few seconds of the fight, he worked off memory alone.

While the pointless, infuriating conversation he’d had with the raiders’ apparent boss had done their opponents absolutely no favors, Logan had never been one to waste an opportunity. He’d spent the duration of it scanning the room, taking in the aliens closest to him, the ones between him and the boss, and the ones with long-range weaponry held ready.

He went for the ones with paralyzing guns first, because the risk of being hit by a stray shot outweighed the potential of letting them fire off their weapons blindly in a panic, and because it gave him higher odds of hitting targets that weren’t immediately lethal, like hands or arms or even tails.

In his experience, flight was a much stronger impulse than fight for most aliens. Seeing as they had far less adrenaline to numb the pain of an injury and allow them to keep fighting through it, Logan understood why.

He also understood that it made diving into the middle of a herd of opponents much less dangerous. The moment the first few cries of pain and crunches of wrenched limbs rang out, there was a frantic scattering away from the center of the room, like a bowl of marbles dropped on the floor.

Good. The less casualties between him and his goal, the quicker this would be over with.

Even as he twisted around the attempted strike of a heavy, lumbering alien, his thoughts still felt like a looping record, dragged back again and again to those moments before they walked in.

He’d been the one to hold up their sign for wait, paused as though he was assessing the situation even though he knew from the cameras that the Ampen had already been taken hostage.

It had been to satisfy his own curiosity, to justify his own paranoia when it came to their surprisingly resilient impromptu pilot.

The other two hadn’t been in space as long as he had, hadn’t been exposed to the depths that aliens would sink to when it came to humans. He’d taken pains to try and keep it that way, though it sometimes felt as though they were undermining his efforts with how friendly they were, even after everything.

He knew why. Roman and Patton both had far more sociable natures than him, and a willingness to believe the best of others that had been stamped out of him. It was only natural that they would be curious about the first alien they’d met that didn’t hold any sort of power over them.

Logan had attempted to warn them— an attack could stem just as easily from fear and ignorance as it could malice and greed. Feathers, as Roman had so creatively dubbed him, certainly seemed terrified and spiteful enough from the very start.

And yet, even he’d started growing lax in the face of the unexpected kindnesses that the Ampen had granted them. Guidance on the food stocks they had, explanations on the facilities, and a slow but steady easing of tensions the longer both parties went without hurting each other.

They certainly seemed to alarm and bewilder the little alien at every opportunity, that much Logan was more than practiced enough in alien body language to pick up on, but there was understanding there, too.

And it certainly wasn’t greed that motivated Feathers. They’d balked at the Dren canister as though he’d been offering them a severed head on a plate, rather than a rare resource that many aliens were willing to commit atrocities to obtain.

It was the best outcome Logan could have asked for.

It was too good to be true.

So, he’d heard the leader offer Feathers a way out, coaxing them with promises of pest removal, and he’d waited.

Because he wanted proof that he’d been right to keep his distance. Because he’d been so sure that this was it, this was the moment that he was betrayed again, except now it wasn’t only his life at risk, but that of the other two, as well.

Because nobody in space cared what happened to a few humans. Not when ‘human’ was synonymous with ‘monster’.

“I don’t… give starscourge pirates shit,” Feathers had spat, words vehement even as their body refused to do more than dangle limply from their captor’s grasp. “Nobody on this ship… ‘cept me, anyhow.”

For the first time since he’d left Earth’s atmosphere, Logan realized that his worst fears were unfounded.

He’d been stunned. Almost too dumbfounded to think, let alone move.

And somewhere in that unforgivable moment of hesitation, Feathers stalwart refusal to give them up made them expendable.

“Useless,” the leader had hissed, the vitriol dragging Logan’s mind back online just in time to hear a splintering crunch.

The high-pitched shriek of pain only lasted for a handful of seconds before it cut off, and Logan had forced himself to move before his lapse in judgement cost their smallest crewmember any more than it already had.

Only half of his mind was on the conversation, the other half spinning wildly out of control as he watched Patton retrieve Feathers and knew from his tremulous expression alone that it was bad.

‘Bad’ for a human was fatal for an alien, more often than not.

“Logan, eight o'clock!” Patton’s familiar voice snapped him back into the present, and Logan stuck a hand out to smoothly receive the pipe Patton tossed his way.

He forced himself to focus, grounding himself with the sensation of his fingers around the cool metal of the makeshift weapon. Patton was at his side. Feathers had been safely removed from the situation.

There was only one matter he could afford to worry about now, and it was ensuring that he and his companions remained free and safe.

Logan stepped forward and swung, aiming to win.

—

CAMERA LOG SF 3

DESIGNATION: MAINFRAME ROOM

20:49:16

Waiting for the all-clear signal had been one of the most painful things Roman had ever had to do.

Up until now, every battle they’d faced, from their daring escape to boarding Feathers’ ship, had been with all three of them fighting together.

To sit in the dim red glow of the emergency light, holding a sharp twisted bit of scrap metal and his heart in his throat, ears straining for any sign that his only friends in the whole of space were alright— it was torture.

Even so, he sat.

Roman would be less than useless in the darkness that played such an instrumental role in their plan, his body responding to the threat and locking down regardless of what his mind had to say. He would become a liability, and the absolute last thing he wanted was to be used against them.

When the whistle finally came— one long call, and then two short bursts— he wasted no time before flicking the lights back on and sprinting down the halls.

Something tight and terrified in his chest loosened the moment the lighting fixtures flickered back to life, but it didn’t fully release its grip on him until he turned a corner and saw Logan, whole and unharmed.

Only Logan.

“Patton—?” he started the moment Logan turned fully to face him.

“Still in the bay,” Logan replied immediately, and for once Roman was grateful for his utter lack of any sense of drama. “He’s helping some of the more critically wounded with tourniquets and the like. They surrendered after I dispatched their leader and the more stringent bodyguards.”

Looking at the way he was splattered heavily with blood, one hand still white-knuckled around the equally-splattered pipe, Roman could imagine why.

“That’s Padre for you,” he replied, trying to remain upbeat even as he detected something distinctly wrong with Logan’s expression. “Is Feathers with him?”

Logan’s face closed off even more, and it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing all the air out of Roman’s lungs.

“They were injured. The severity is…,” he stopped, looking pained. “I need you to guard the main door so I can retrieve them and assess the damage.”

“Go,” Roman said immediately, reaching out and tugging the pipe from his grasp. “Don’t just give up, Specs. I mean, we don’t just have our resources now, right? There’s an entire ship full of supplies right here, and another connected to it. How often do you want to bet space pirates get injured on the job?”

Logan nodded, jerky at first and then smoothing into something more determined. “Right.”

Without another word, he headed down the hall, and Roman took a few deep breaths. He could keep it together for everyone. It didn’t matter if the composure was fake, so long as he acted it out well enough.

By the time Logan returned, he was put-together enough not to balk at the sight of Feathers cradled in his arms like a corpse.

The first thing Feathers had negotiated for was the right to walk for themself. They hadn’t let anyone else hold them since then, still snapped at fingers if Roman tried to pet them even a little.

There was a faint chirping, interspersed with a few nonsense syllables that might have been trying to be words, and Logan drew to a stop immediately, peering down at his passenger.

“Are you with us?” Logan asked, carefully moving a hand to hover over Feathers in an attempt to keep the bright overhead lights from blinding them.

They flinched a little, and then opened their eyes a little further and slowly moved their gaze to stare at Logan.

“You’re badly injured,” Logan told them bluntly in Common, a frantic edge to his voice. “We need to know what sort of treatment will work for you, what kind of medicine— and what amount, as well— is safe for Ampens. It’s very important, Feathers. Can you tell me?”

Roman couldn’t even find it in himself to tease Logan for giving in and using their nickname, too caught up in scanning Feathers’ tiny face for any signs of comprehension, any hope that they would be able to properly treat their wound.

After a few long seconds of blank staring, Feathers straightened up slightly and pushed their head up to butt against the palm of Logan’s hand, like an affectionate cat seeking attention.

Logan went still, like he was being held at gunpoint, and exchanged a desperate, pained look with Roman.

Feathers made a few tiny peeps, more vulnerable that they’d ever let themself be around them before, and Roman struggled not to be overcome by the feeling of his heart sinking right through the floor.

Hesitant and desolate, Logan smoothed his hand over their feathers as carefully as he could. Feathers crooned quietly and slowly settled back into unconsciousness, tiny muscle spasms still rolling through them every so often.

“Find their medic,” Logan said, and when Roman looked up, he found that his friend had settled into the harsh, sharp-edged version of himself, the one he used to harden himself to what they needed to do if they wanted to survive.

They’d all found a little of that in themselves, over the months spent in captivity. Logan had tried to use it to keep a protective shell between himself and their fluffy, stressed out pilot, but Roman was more than willing to use it on Feathers’ behalf.

“I’ll have Patton bring the first one we find to the medical room,” he agreed with a nod, already turning to head into the bay. “Once we’ve got the other ship locked down, we’ll meet you there. Take good care of them until then?”

Logan’s expression twisted the slightest amount, before firming into something determined. “I will.”

[taruruchi]

One of my favorite taru art periods was winter of 2023. The art that came out of the winter vibes was so scrumptious bro I might rb them again soon