#I had some options for this fill that were less angsty but this one called out to me

[dread-master-styrak]

Hell Year

So most of 2023 and first four months of 2024 were fucking hell. I barely remember it. All thanks to this one fucking person.

I eventually cut them out of my life. They were actively dragging me down and their presence was a huge mental drain on me.

Tw: fictional rape, real suicide attempts, real and fictional self harm.

I will probably edit this post to get my thoughts in order. I'm not telling this story to garner pity, I'm telling it to explain why I was probably acting erratically over the past year.

I think me deleting all my SWTOR art and my Tumblr were partially caused by me being fucking worn out by this person's demand I talk to them every waking minute of my day.

I was in pain but didn't see that that "friend" was the main source of pain and exhaustion, and so I lashed out at the next best thing.

Please please heed the trigger warnings and the mature content tag!

I don't know what to call them. I suppose "friend" will have to suffice, for ease of telling this story.

I met them last year. Barely two weeks into talking they called me their best friend. They also dumped horrific trauma onto me within those two weeks.

They put me on a pedestal just cause I showed them basic human kindness and politeness I try to show people by default. They kept saying how they don't need other friends. And how their mood gets better with me around.

They expected non stop 24 \ 7 interaction and would threaten or even attempt self harm and suicide when I said I need space.

I'm very introverted. I REALLY need a lot of alone time and space to recharge. Do you see the problem?

It's difficult to put into words how worn down I got. Several months of non stop RP. Several months of having to constantly comfort this person. Several months without being allowed to rest in peace and quiet. I stopped writing. My art slowed down a lot.

We both were into 40k. So they wormed their way into roleplaying as our characters. They had cool character concepts, but they went out of the window the moment the RP started. They just turned into submissive anime waifus who just want to be isolated with my characters forever and have a traditional family with babies despite being fucking grimdark cyborgs. Like the player, they said they don't need anyone else. And they all had nearly identical angsty backstories filled with rape.

Ah yes. Rape. Their favourite subject.

They kept casually shoving rape into the RP, dropping it on both their own and my characters.

Now, I don't have a problem with dark topics in fiction. You can write or draw whatever. Appropriate tags and warnings are appreciated. But RP is a whole nother beast. It takes two or more people to RP.

I mean, shit. One of my favourite stories ever is Berserk. However. There is a big fucking difference between choosing to read Berserk and reading through the Eclipse, or writing the Eclipse and giving people a choice whether or not they want to read it, and being fucking coerced into roleplaying the Eclipse. As Griffith, no less.

I went with it for two reasons. First, I figured out it was some kind of catharsis for them. Second, my options were either rp raping their OC or have a multiple hours long fight. In which they would threaten self harm and suicide, and be passive aggressive. Which in turn is a huge trigger for me as I have to deal with it from family IRL.

Here's the grim tally of characters who got raped in RP for no fucking reason:

My Kenaz, by slaaneshi cultists on their forge world, for like several days straight

Their character R - in their backstory

R again, by their former mentor (makes no sense for admechs to be so controlled by fleshy desires). Dahan (played by me) killed him.

Their character D, same exact backstory as R

D again, by some rando tech priest, who also got killed by Dahan

D yet again, in a horrible alt timeline. Dahan had to watch before breaking out and killing the perps.

Their character F, in her backstory. Slightly different from the other two.

F again, by the same Slaaneshi cultists as Kenaz

F yet again, by a stand in for that exfriend's ex's character. He got, you guessed it, killed by Dahan.

F yet again, by Skoll because I guess the player gets off to that shit.

Kotov, played by me, by a fellow admech(makes no bloody sense)

Irbis, played by me, by the character who was supposed to be his love interest.

My Skoll, by a slaaneshi cultist.

Oh, also: if I gathered my little spine sprout and said no to a scenario or ship for whatever reason, they'd throw a fit and torment me with graphic descriptions of their character mutilating themself. Or draw their character mutilated and post it somewhere I could see.

I eventually got them to stop shoving rape into every plot, until...

The crowning fucked up cherry on top of the shit rape cake. They pushed a scenario where my character Irbis would have a smut related modification installed in him against his will and against his character. And it was implied that their character was the one secretly behind it. Their character was supposed to be Irbis's love interest.

And to add insult to injury, the character Scorn so gleefully turned into a rapist was a character I gave them.

I don't know where else to put this, and it's kinda, more light hearted compared to the other shit.

They also did this thing where they wanted to copy my character design, have it altered a bit, and make it their own character. I did a lot of these copycat designs for them, but they also commissioned other artists for them as well.

My OCs

- Skoll copycat (designed by me)

- Teyron (centipede tech priest) (designed by me, for free)

- Pollux (fiery lion tech priest) (designed by me, ended up keeping him)

Book characters with my headcanon designs

- Kotov from Forges of Mars (copy based on my design, basic sketch by me, ref done by another artist)

- Dahan from Forges of Mars (copy based on my design, by another artist)

- Telok from Forges of Mars (again, my design)

Their obsessive adoration towards me scared me. I was / am scared they'd try to find me IRL and do something horrible to me, as the physical boundaries of my body are the only ones they haven't trampled on.

I was afraid to leave, fearing they'd kill themself and the blood would be on my hands. And I got so worn down by them throwing fits and threatening to hurt themselves, or getting passive aggressive in the same exact way my mom does, that I just kinda shut down and went with whatever they wanted unless completely drained.

I'm angry at them for taking advantage of me. I'm angry at myself for letting them do so. I saw the red flags but pushed on because I felt responsible for this person.

They were incredibly insecure and I guess jealous? Constantly whining about stuff they didn't get while "everyone else around them got cool stuff".

They threw fits over:

me posting art at quicker rate than they did;

me having cool stuff in SWTOR because I played the game for like 11 years at that point;

Me not wanting to RP SWTOR stuff cause I have a complicated relationship with SWTOR (that one ended up with them posting art of their character gruesomely decapitated where I could see it)

Me begging for time and space alone to fucking rest (that one ended up with them attempting suicide!)

not having money to buy an expensive clothing item

someone in the same room having an ipad and drawing on it.

Me trying to say something nice about their characters and saying they looked kind

At one point they tried to kill themself. I managed to get them to stop. I managed to convince them to get help. I felt so relieved about it.

However...

It came out later thar thet lied to me FOR MONTHS about going to therapy. Which kinda put a big fat question about literally everything about them because if they lied about that FOR MONTHS, what else could have they lied about?

I shit you not, they even mentioned getting made up homework from their made up therapist over the course of the six or so months they kept the lie up. And they passed off info from online articles as shit they learned in therapy.

Somehow they had the brain capacity to remember everything needed to maintain an elaborate lie for MONTHS but then they couldn't be arsed to remember details about their own OCs or my OCs. Priorities I guess.

During the same fight they also tormented me with graphic descriptions of physical harm done to them by a family member, as well as graphic descriptions of self harm and suicide. They knew full well I can't handle graphic descriptions / depictions of violence a lot of the time.

The final straw that killed this relationship was them dropping 40k as an interest. They replaced their entire personality with nutcrackers from lethal company.

They kept trying to show me art of them. They sent me screenshots of nsfw messages they sent someone else about the nutcrackers.

I asked them to not show me that. And even then it was this constant hemming and hawing about wanting to show me stuff I explicitly said I didn't want to see.

That last one was the last straw that resulted in a fight where we mutually blocked each other. EXCEPT, TWO DAYS LATER who do I see in my art page's notification, but A PAINFULLY OBVIOUS ALT of theirs?

Like, good job burning any remnants of any bridge that could stay between us, dumbass.

And like, I feel bad for hating them because they are obviously very mentally ill. But also I left because they wouldn't leave me alone even when I begged for it. They lied to me. They coerced me into roleplaying rape scenarios under threats of self harm and suicide.

Leaving was the best decision for me. I feel much calmer. My art block went away. I even started writing again.

I recently learned that it's healthier to express emotions than to bottle them up and let them fester, and I have a lot of pent up emotions about this.

Despite EVERYTHING I miss them sometimes. Same way I miss the SWTOR exfriend. Despite everything, we had some good times, and the quiet feels a bit empty sometimes.

I know I can't go back. It wouldn't be good for anyone involved. Especially me.

I hope this person forgets me and gets help. They desperately need it.

I briefly spoke to them to see if they have some files I lost. We talked. They seemed to be apologetic, but given their capacity to lie, what's the worth of those apologies?

Apparently i was the only one blessed with being coerced into roleplaying SA under threat of self harm, suicide, and multiple hours long fights. What fun. /Sarcasm.

I bought some character designs from them, and they tried to charge me twice for one of them, claiming they forgot. Jury is out on whether or not its the truth or they just wanted to squeeze a bit more money from me lol.

I went back to blocking them after a brief fight where I confronted them about everything they did and that it hurt me. Of course, they started whining that they don't wanna hear about it.

I don't regret the fight or going back to blocking them. It was my plan to do so, after my dealings with them were done, although my plan was less aggressive. I just wanted to fade out. But leaving with a bang will do too.

I hate them. I want them to know that I hate them, and to know exactly why. My fucking life is now separated into Before Them, The Hell Year, and After Them.

Never got my files back even tho I distinctly remember giving them an archive. Just got a bunch of random shit they saved from the internet, some of it not even mine.

Also, Scorn, if you see this: FUCK YOU.

You raped my soul. You took advantage of my kindness. You lied to me for months. With friends like you, who bloody needs enemies?

I hope the people you're using for your entertainment and free therapy see that you are a leech. A leech that attaches itself to people and sucks out their personality, beliefs, interests, and energy.

I hope you end up alone for the rest of your life. Because it is your biggest fear. And I hope it comes true.

Also, how's that chatroom that roleplays astra militarum by harassing people for being weird or queer or furries treating ya, by the way? You had no issue with it despite having latched onto the exact kind of person they target. You hung out with them despite me foolishly coming out to you.

To anyone who might divine who this person is: don't engage with them. Don't harass them, it will only fuel their martyr / victim shtick. Don't let them near unless you want to be coerced into rape roleplay, or unless you want to be an emotional support dog.

[ofdragonsdeep]

16: Deiform

Hermes, former holder of the seat of Azem, beholds what is left in Zodiark's wake.

(implied AzemxElidibus)

(This is essentially a prequel to a fill from last year, which did not survive precisely intact, but I didn't have the time to write out the edited version of those events as well)

(Azem uses he/they pronouns)

 For the first time in all their long years, Azem’s return to Amaurot was not a cause for joy. They had made their way across the cracked and broken land, offering what meagre aid they could to communities broken by the Final Days. It was all they could offer, when they had failed so completely to find a solution to the tragedy. Even the mantle of Azem was no longer theirs to wear, though they had leaned on the seat more than once to calm panicked people who were too far from Amaurot to know what it meant.

When they had heard the name Zodiark, the premise that accompanied it so repulsed them that they had made the ultimatum on the spot. They would have no part in it. If the others saw fit to proceed, then it would be without Azem. And yet they had still moved forward, and so he had put down the title as he had sworn to do. He had left Amaurot not long after, and had told himself that he would not return.

At the time, he had thought that the hardest part would be to keep his distance from Elidibus.They had talked before he left, even though he had told himself no exceptions. Elidibus had seemed so calm in the face of it. He had been a rock for the citizenry and the Convocation both as chaos swallowed them whole, and so Azem - Hermes now, the mask discarded - had not put too much thought into his strangely distant demeanour. Nothing had been normal then, so it made sense, didn’t it?

And now he was gone. Gone like so many others, consumed in the heart of their saviour. Hermes had not intended for it to be a final goodbye, for all he tried to convince himself otherwise, and in the end the choice had been taken from him just like everything else.

They found themselves returning to Amaurot now, despite it all, because they had heard through those they were helping with recovery efforts that the Convocation had put out another call for ‘volunteers’. Hermes had heard strange things of what Zodiark did to those around it - him? - and did not much think that anyone who volunteered for anything would be doing so in their right mind. It was wrong. It was all wrong. And though they had not been able to talk the others out of the summoning - they hoped, deep in their heart, that they might be able to talk them out of this.

Venat had tried to talk to them, too. They had ignored the summons, at first, angry at the idea that they might turn around and abandon their beliefs for some idea of a ‘better’ creation, even one which fought what Zodiark represented. They had been angrier still when they had learned that Venat’s plan was much the same as the Convocation’s - a sacrifice for the creature’s rotten heart, and the ultimate price for those who helped to summon it.

What they had learned of the Convocation’s plans worried them, though. They did not want to turn to Venat, or whatever she had become, but they were not ruling out that the enemy of their enemy might need to by necessity be a temporary ally. But by the stars they hoped they did not need it.

–

Amaurot was an eerie skeleton of its former self. The creature itself sat atop the spires of the Capitol, its masked face unseeing as it stared in endless vigil at the aetheric currents surrounding the planet. Once it had come into full view, Hermes had stopped and stared at it, hoping to find some semblance of Elidibus - of Themis -  in its wretched guise, but there was nothing. Indeed, the creature itself seemed vacant and lacking, nothing at all like the grand saviour the stories had made it out to be. People had spoken of wings caressing the sky, of sure and certain movements, and Hermes’s heart had ached to map Themis to the gestures, the care, the love with which Zodiark smothered their people. But now he saw it up close, it was little more than a shell. A hollow echo of what once had been.

How could anyone give themselves freely to such a thing?

 They felt the first pulse as they walked into the centre of Amaurot proper. A ripple in the aether, so subtle Hermes would have missed it if he had not been on high alert. He felt the ward woven around his soul resist its tug, and scowled at the attempt. He knew the Convocation well enough to believe that it had not been a purposeful feature of their God, but he knew them well enough to know that they would not have made that sort of mistake in normal circumstances.

It was anything but normal, though, wasn’t it? The burned-out husks of buildings told as much to all who passed, the people walking through the streets like ghosts. He had seen so few of them, and they had all of them ignored his passing. None of them thought to use their magic to fix the broken buildings, though a wariness of creation in the wake of the end was reasonable enough. He had tried to speak to one of them, but all they had said was that ‘Lord Zodiark’ would mend their woes. Lord Zodiark would deliver them. And the days of yore, in all their imperfect glory, would return.

Hermes walked the familiar path through the city streets, down to the Halls of Rhetoric. The roof of the building had collapsed at some point since his leaving, but magic propped it up, and people still trickled in and out of the doors. He thought of all the times he had spent there in the past - before he had become Azem, even. Hades (the most honourable Emet-Selch) begrudgingly watching him debate some unfortunate scientist, Hythlodaeus egging him on. Later, Themis hiding himself in the crowd and resisting the urge to heckle, Azem’s verbal sparring with Lahabrea drawing crowds so large even the Emissary could pass unnoticed through them.

To return to those days was a dream, it was true, but nothing more than that. Motes of sand held in their hands, impossible to hold for long. For each wish they coaxed from their god, it was fulfilled for fewer than the last. And when there was no-one left, what then? Would the snake devour itself, just like their childhood fables?

With a shake of his head, Hermes passed through the open doors. There were no crowds to part around him now, but at the end of an empty hall stood a familiar face all the same.

“Lahabrea,” he greeted, a cheerful note to his voice. The older man turned, and regarded Hermes with a coldness that stung to be witness to.

“So returns the prodigal child,” he remarked. “Have you seen the error of your ways, then?” 

“Not even a hello?” Hermes said. 

How many times had he faced Lahabrea in these halls? More than he had ever cared to count, at the time, and yet it had never been in true hostility. Quite the opposite, most times, though it was hard to know if Lahabrea would appreciate the label of 'friend'. But the cold stare, the curt tone, the stiffness of his stance... it was almost him. But not quite him.

What had changed?

"I should think we are beyond greetings," Lahabrea said, turning away from Hermes to regard the hole in the roof, from which one of Zodiark's great wings cast a shadow down into the room below. "You heard the news, I take it."

"Your... 'grand undertaking', I believe it was called," Hermes agreed, sounding far more cheerful than he felt. "You know it is folly, yes?"

"Far from it. Life has already been returned to the star," Lahabrea disagreed. "If you mean to stop us, you are too late. The faithful have given what they must, and they will be rewarded in due time."

"You can't reward the dead," Hermes said, all pretence dropping. Lahabrea inhaled, a weary sigh following the motion, as though he were dealing with a tiresome child instead of a peer.

"They will not sleep forever. We shall nurture what grows on cracked soil, and when the time is right, we shall reclaim what is ours."

"Reclaim..." Hermes started, before making a horrified noise as it all clicked into place. No wonder they offered themselves freely if they believed they would be returned. "No. Lahabrea, you can't. Surely you of all people can see-"

"It is right," Lahabrea said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Lord Zodiark will deliver us salvation. He will save us."

"But you are already saved!" Hermes protested, taking a step forward in frustration. Lahabrea threw out a hand, and he stopped unbidden, even before seeing the magic ripple into the air to divide the two of them. Did Lahabrea truly think so little of him now?

"Calamity was forestalled, that is true," Lahabrea agreed. "But you have walked the streets of Amaurot, have you not? We are not delivered. Not yet. And neither you, nor the parasite which enables you, will keep us from that end."

"Parasite?" Hermes said, confused. "I came alone."

"Do you think me blind as well as foolish? I can see Her taint on you, Azem."

The word which had once been an honour was spat out now with vitriol, but Hermes caught the emphasis on her. Unless there was more to this that had not reached his ears, there could be only one person behind it.

"I am no hypocrite, Lahabrea," he disagreed. "I swore I would have no part of gods, and I told the same to Venat. Whatever she has done, I am no part of it."

"Liar," Lahabrea spat. Hermes made a surprised noise, moving backwards almost on instinct as Lahabrea wheeled around. Darkness gathered around his hands, where once there would have been naught but fire.

"This isn't you. It isn't," Hermes said, still backing away, movements slow less he provoke even more ire from his apparent sparring partner. "Your eyes would never be this clouded. What has Zodiark done to you?"

"Your blatant disrespect only proves your lies," Lahabrea declared. "I had hoped you might see sense, but if you will not, then there are other ways you can serve. I will not let you touch Elidibus."

Elidibus?

For all that Lahabrea had changed in attitude, he was the same in combat. Hermes threw up a shield of shimmering aether to block the first volley of magic, before throwing himself behind an upturned bench and invoking teleportation magic. Lahabrea reached out a hand, and though Hermes felt the aether tighten around him, it did not take.

On the street, he broke into a dead run. He had heard the stories. He knew Elidibus was dead. Elidibus would not have kept his intention to be the Heart so secret if he had not known it would be the end of him. And yet... And yet...

Did he dare hope? Would anything of Themis have survived intact, if zealotry and ire was all that remained of Lahabrea? Hermes had hoped to talk sense into them, but their god had stolen it whole cloth ere he arrived, it seemed. In a moment, he abandoned his plans to seek out Emet-Selch, or even to petition Mitron and Loghrif, knowing as he did that Loghrif would be hurting under the weight of Elidibus's sacrifice, one that she had laid claim to at the start. He had hoped. He had not wanted to hold the weight of what they had decreed against them, knowing that the star had faced oblivion without it. But this?

Themis... Please...

In the early days he had considered the notion of standing against Zodiark. In the wake of Venat's request, he had doubled down on not doing so. To destroy Zodiark would shatter the feeble protection that it offered against apocalypse, even if it would free those within. And Themis, he was gone, his very soul consumed to become the Heart - that was what Lahabrea had laid out in their Convocation meeting, his jaw set against the horror of it. And it had been a horror, hadn't it? All of them had hated it. Not a one had thought it good, simply better than oblivion in a world where no other options seemed to exist. That was why Hermes had left, rather than fight it. He would not stand between them in their hardest choice, even if he could not make it  himself. But now they seemed to honour it, to want it. The Lahabrea he knew would never have sacrificed so much, not even to bring back those he loved. It was delusional to think that this was in the star's best interest. How could they heal if the wound festered?

Venat had spoken not of destroying Zodiark, but of binding him. She had conceived of a creation not unlike Zodiark himself - a 'Goddess' whose purpose in its entirety was to protect the star, but her goal would be to imprison that which threatened to consume itself under the burden of paradise. Not destroy. To bind the souls of every sacrifice in place for the time it took for others to find a solution... was that progress? Was that better?

Could he at least save Themis?

I owe it to him... to his sacrifice to try.

[landinoandco]

Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

[animusicnerd]

Of Books and Pretty Boys - Silver x Gn! Reader

☾ Genre: Fluff ☾ Warnings: little angsty in the beginning but otherwise fluff

☾ Pairing(s): Silver x GN! Reader ☾ Notes: People barely write for Silver so I thought that I would give it a shot for the very quiet Silver simps. Please tell me if this seems gender neutral!

☾ Twisted Wonderland and its characters do not belong to me ☽

Tired was the first thing that popped up in your mind. You didn’t know what Ace and Grim were arguing about this time, but with each word that spilled from their lips, you could feel the pounding against your skull get worse. You didn’t know why they were here, nor did you care what they were arguing about this time. Running on five hours of sleep and energy bars was not fun, but after dealing with enough overblots to last a lifetime, you needed a break.

You needed more time. More time to process everything. More time to understand what you were doing. More time to understand why you were even doing this. None of this was going to help you. Was this even worth it? Maybe you should just fail the course. This would be way easier than listening to your teachers drone on about the properties of nightshade or hearing your friends argue with each other for the millionth time that day.

Unfortunately, you decided that you would not do that. Instead of leaving your fate up to the gods, you decided that you wanted to at least try being a good student for once and study. You shut yourself in your room, ignoring your pestering cat and friends, sat down at your desk, and studied.

You decided that you didn’t like it. It was boring and confusing, but nonetheless, you powered through it and when the time came for you to take the test, you were sure that you would pass. 

But now that exams were finished, with no other work to be done, you wanted to die. Well, maybe not in a literal sense. Maybe. All you knew was that you wanted peace and quiet and suffering through another three hours of senseless arguing wasn’t going to help you relax. And so, ignoring the confused calls of your friends, you grabbed your latest read and left. 

Despite only being at the school for less than a year, you knew most of the quiet places located at the school. There was the library, the botanical gardens, that one abandoned hallway, and the forest but after the first day of exams, you quickly learned that those were not the places to go to relax. Other tired students quickly invaded your quiet space, and the only option left was the forest. Most students used it to hang out when skipping classes, but that was just the outskirts of the forest. If you went deeper, where the trees were quieter and not filled with the noises of suffering students, then you would find a little nook in the trees. The trees were huge and their branches were sturdy. You had no worries of falling off a broken branch.

One of your favorite trees was dead center of the forest and it was quite a walk there as it took thirty minutes for you to get there every time. But every time, it was worth it to hear the soft chirping of birds and the chittering of the friendly squirrels who had taken a liken to you. The sunlight filtering through the branches provided you with some light to read your books. And most of all, no one to bother you while you attempt to learn a little bit more about this world to get to your own.

Alas, the gods really liked to test you and your patience.

Five minutes into reading about Hades, you heard the tell-tale signs of someone climbing up the tree. An annoyed sigh passed through your lips, and you shut your book with a snap before leaning over the branch you were sitting on to see who dared to disturb your quiet time.

It was another student. A boy with silver hair and in the school’s jail-like gym uniform was climbing up his tree. You were tempted to throw your book down to stop him, but that would end up with you climbing back down to get your book again and you didn’t know if the student was the type to run away or fight back. You have mediated way too many fights during your time at the college and you weren’t sure if you wanted to get into an actual fight yet. 

You waited until the silver-haired boy climbed up to the branch opposite of yours before making your presence known. “Nice of you to join me, complete stranger I don’t know,” you remarked, a frown evident on your lips.

The silver-haired boy looked surprised once he settled into the branch and heard your voice. His eyes shone like the northern lights and that was the first thought in your mind once you got a good look over him. A strong built and slightly long silver hair suited him but, no, you were not here to check him out. You were going to tell this guy to leave, no matter how pretty he looked!

You noticed that the boy was quiet as he did a once over as if you were the one invading his private space and disturbing his reading time. The audacity of this pretty boy. 

“Uh, look,” the boy glanced down at the ground before lowering his voice, “I’m training with a friend and if I get caught, I don’t want to be subjected to his bragging rights, so if you could please just quiet down. I promise.” At your deadpan look, the boy continued, “Please, just for about an hour or so.”

“An hour?!” you screeched. You weren’t willing to give up your quiet time just because a pretty boy didn’t want to do more training. The boy quickly shushed you before giving you a pleading look and in a quieter voice, you repeated, “An hour?”

He nodded. “That’s how long it took for me to find him, so if he takes longer to find me, then I win.”

“And you won’t have to listen to your friend brag about winning?”

“Yes, so please, be quiet for an hour or so.” 

You pursed your lips as you thought it over. On one hand, you were being disturbed and would likely continue to be disturbed unless you helped this weird pretty boy. What would he even be training for anyway? He was already attending a prestigious academy for mages and all students get sparring time with each other to practice their magic. Was he becoming a knight or something? If that were the case, where was his instructor? Nothing he said made sense to you. But on the other hand, pretty boy is allowing you to read in peace if you just sit quietly and read. On the other hand, pretty boy. 

Pretty boy? 

Pretty boy. 

“Fine, I’ll help,” you agreed. The boy nodded before he started hiding himself among the leaves of the forest and you went back to your book.

In your opinion, it wasn’t a bad one. It mainly talked about the Great Seven and their accomplishments. Although you had a small idea of what they did, you still didn’t know as much as Ace or Deuce. Some of the knowledge in this book was familiar thanks to them and Professor Trein but besides that, most of it was new information to you. And as great as their accomplishments were, there was no mention about your home.

Time went by quickly and you were nearing the end of the book when you decided to check on the boy. Looking over to his branch, you saw that he had fallen asleep. He was still covered in leaves and branches but was now accompanied by some birds and on his lap was a squirrel who was also fast asleep. The light from earlier had already dimmed and you could see the sun starting to set. How long have you two been up here? You needed to get back to the dorm for dinner but you couldn't just leave him. His friend might still be looking for him. 

While you were mulling over what to do, the boy had woken up. The excited chittering of the squirrel quickly caught your attention and you turned back to the boy. Well, at least you didn’t have to drag him out. He looked confused as he looked around, saw you, saw the leaves he hid in before his eyes widened, and cursed under his breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he said as he scrambled to make his way down. “I have to go. I wasn’t supposed to be here for this long.”

“Ah wait!” You followed him down the tree, making sure not to drop your book. To your surprise, he did wait at the bottom. “Can I know your name at least?” You needed more friends than the ones you currently had. You loved Ace, Deuce, and Grim but it was tiring to be near them all day. You’re not sure how long you’ve survived with them as your friends. 

“Oh? My name is—“

“Silver! There you are!” The two of you turned to see a green-haired teen running towards the two of you screaming. Ah, that must have been his friend.

“Well, that’s my cue to go,” you stated.

Silver looked confused as you started walking off. “But I didn't—“

“Silver!”

“Bye!” With that, you took off in the opposite direction of the duo. Maybe it was best to stay away from him for as long as that green-haired kid was around. You could properly befriend him another time.

[the-bau-quinjet]

what about doing a steve x reader? maybe where the reader gets hurt during a mission by hydra?? just an idea!! xx

He’s Like a Brother to Me

Summary: Pretending to be a couple for a mission is normal, so why is your Captain so upset?

Warnings: being injured on a mission, kissing, a swear word or two

Word Count: 2202

a/n: My first request!! To the anon that requested this, thank you! I hope you like it :) Sorry if it's not angsty enough! I really tried, but once I got this idea in my head I ran with it. 

Also! I didn't do my normal tag list since y'all requested to be tagged when I was only writing Criminal Minds fics. Just lmk if you want to be tagged in marvel or CM or both!

"The mission is simple. You two will go to the gala as newly weds, pretend to be interested in more than the charitable events of the evening, figure out the chain of command for the weapons dealing, and put a stop to the weapons dealing assholes." Tony laid out the plan as if nothing could go wrong.

You turned to the super soldier on your left, relieved to find a matching grimace on his face.

"We have to pretend to be a couple?" You asked, turning back to Tony.

"Yes. The invites we secured are for Mr. and Mrs. Farley, so you two will be Mr. and Mrs. Farley for the evening. Any other questions?" Before you could chime in with the 17 questions in your head, Tony kept talking. "I didn't think so. Your clothes have already been dropped off to your rooms, so get ready. You'll have Rogers and Wilson doing surveillance in case anything goes wrong." Without another word, Tony forced you and Bucky out of the room.

"I guess I'll see in an hour, husband." You tried to joke, but your smile didn't meet your eyes.

"Same to you, wife." Bucky's face held a similar expression as you both turned your separate ways to get ready for the gala, trying to put the awkwardness behind you.

You and Bucky have been incredibly close ever since he first came back from Wakanda. You became fast friends since you are both so close with Steve.

It was easier for Bucky to open up to you than he anticipated, and in part it's because you remind him of his sister. Similarly, Bucky is like the older brother you never had. The two of you mesh, in the most platonic of ways.

He is there to tease you about your not-so-secret crush on Steve, and your there to help Sam come up with more annoying nicknames (starBucks being one of your favorite to date).

When it comes down to it though, you look out for each other. Of course, that won't make pretending to be a couple any less awkward.

-

You and Bucky enter the gala just after 8:00 pm. The large hotel ballroom is lit up by three enormous chandeliers, spaced throughout the room, with small sconces lining the outside walls. There are round tables around the outside of the room, framing a large open space for dancing.

People are mingling in small groups scattered throughout the room, waitstaff wondering around the room in precise lines to ensure anyone who wants a drink has access to one.

With a deep breath, you link your arm with Bucky's, laughing at the surprised look on his face.

"We have to at least try to sell it." You whispered in his ear, trying to play it off as a cute couple-y thing. "Even if we'd both rather be anywhere else." That comment earned a laugh, easing the tension from his shoulders.

Steve's voice in your ears refocuses you on the mission. "We just got video feed from the security cameras, so we have eyes on you now." You would have sworn you could hear an unfamiliar strain in Steve's voice as he spoke, but you chalked it up to just being nervous for the mission. "Try to mingle, figure out who's in charge."

Mingling was easier said than done. Every time the two of you tried to talk to anyone, the conversation was awkward and tense. You just didn't know how to answer questions about falling in love with each other. Ultimately, you decided eavesdropping was your best bet. Bucky pulled you to the dance floor, whispering in your ear as he held you, "dancing is the perfect cover for moving around the room."

You nodded your head in response, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What are you doing? I said to mingle, not dance." Steve's voice in your ears surprised you. Normally, he'd stay quiet unless he received intel that could help with the mission or noticed something for you to look into.

"We're listening to other conversations, relax punk." Bucky's voice was light as he spun you around, closer to the most suspicious people you've found thus far.  

"What time is it happening?" The woman seemed nervous as she checked her watch.

"A few minutes. Relax, we'll meet them down the hall at 8:45." The man was calm and collected as he took her hand, leading her across the dance floor and out of the room.

"Guess that's our cue." You stated the obvious as you and Bucky went to follow them out of the ballroom. The couple turned down a side hallway, pulled out a key card, and entered a room, about halfway down.

You and Bucky made quick work to reach the room, pausing outside to listen in. You heard the couple, along with an unfamiliar voice.

"Do you have them?" The unfamiliar voice asked.

"We do. They're hidden in another room down the hall." the woman again sounded nervous.

"You" the unfamiliar voice must have pointed at someone, "go get them. Your wife will stay here to keep me company. Make it quick, Hydra has more important things to do."

Yours and Bucky's eyes went wide at the mention of Hydra. This mission wasn't supposed to have anything to do with them. Before you could react, footsteps could be heard coming toward the door. You had a few seconds max to figure out a way to hide.

With no other options in sight, you pulled Bucky across the hallway into the world's most awkward kiss. When the door swung open, you pretended not to notice, too lost in your "relationship" to care.

The man you saw earlier walked a few doors down before entering another room. You pulled back from Bucky, wincing slightly at the expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't think of anything else to do to make it look like we weren't listening..." You trailed off.

"No, no it's fine. It was the only option." Bucky cleared his throat, still slightly dazed and very thrown off.

"Could the two of you stop staring at each other and get back to work?' Steve's voice was again present in your ears, and this time he was definitely angry.

"Right! Right, of course. Let's go." You awkwardly pushed off the wall, moving down the hallway to the room you saw the man enter. On the count of three, you burst into the room together. It was easy enough to over power the lone man in the room, but you and Bucky were still a little shaken up after the kiss. You handcuffed him to the bedpost, taking the key card he used earlier and moving back down the hallway.

After a brief, awkward eye contact, Bucky opened the door with you rushing in behind him. The only two people in the room were the two you heard earlier, making for a fairly easy take down.

"Cap, we got 'em. Two in room 217 and one in room 223." You started to fill him and Sam in, unsure if they still had eyes on you. At that exact moment, three more Hydra agents ran in from an adjoining room, catching you off guard.

You yelped when the gun went off, surprised at the sudden noise after thinking the mission was over. You and Bucky managed to take down the three agents without much more difficulty.

"Scratch that Cap, five in room 217." You again began filling him in, but the room started spinning. Your voice was wavering when you collapsed, the last thing you heard a mixture of Steve's voice in your ear and Bucky's in person calling your name.

"Y/N!" Then everything faded to black.

-

"What the hell happened in there?" Steve and Bucky were standing just outside of the med bay. After you collapsed, Bucky realized you had been shot in the stomach. While other Shield agents came to collect the men you had stopped, Bucky carried you to the quinjet, meeting a pissed looking Steve at the door.

The two didn't talk at all during the short flight back to the compound. It wasn't until you were in the med bay receiving medical attention that Steve rounded on Bucky.

"There was never any indication that more agents were there. They caught us off guard! I didn't even realize she had been shot until after we had them contained." Bucky was beating himself up. He let his guard down, still trying to get over the lingering weirdness of you kissing him.

"Caught you off guard? Buck-" Before Steve could yell anymore, Dr. Cho came out to talk to them.

"Y/N will be fine. She lost a lot of blood, but she should recover relatively quickly. She'll likely wake up in the next half hour." Dr. Cho got straight to the point, trying to ease the nerves of the two super soldiers.

"Thank you so much. Thank you!" Bucky called over his shoulder as he ran into the room, planting himself by your side. He may be weirded out by the kiss, but he knows you were too. You're still like a little sister to him, nothing could stop him from being there for you when you wake up.

Steve followed Bucky into the room after thanking Dr. Cho and briefly discussing the timeline for your recovery.

"As I was saying. Caught you off guard? I've never seen you caught off guard before." Although he was whispering so as not to disturb you, his words were nearly venomous. "The two of you let your feelings get in the way of this mission."

The look of guilt already present on Bucky's face multiplied tenfold. "You think I don't know that? I should've seen it coming. If I wasn't distracted I could've stopped them before Y/N got hurt."

You woke up at some point, hearing Bucky blame himself. Instantly, you wanted to ease his worries. "Hey," the two men turned to you, concern clear on their faces. "It wasn't your fault, Buck. I was just as distracted. Neither of us saw it coming, even though both of us should have. It doesn't matter though, because we got them, and I'll be fine." You sat up, wincing slightly at the pain in your abdomen.

"How can you say that? Of course it matters! You could have died, all because Bucky was too busy making heart eyes at you to-" Steve's words were cut off by identical sounds of laughter from you and Bucky.

"Heart eyes?! Oh my god, that's hilarious." You stuttered out the words between laughs. Steve look so confused, you couldn't help but laugh at his cute expression.

Every time you thought you were done, one look at either Bucky or Steve had you laughing again. "Oh god, make it stop! It hurts to laugh!" You pouted slightly, begging Bucky to stop laughing and Steve to change his expression.

Finally, Bucky reined it in enough to speak. "I was distracted because Y/N like a little sister. It's definitely a bit distracting to feel like you just kissed your sister" You and Bucky each made a face of disgust as you looked at each other.

Meanwhile, Steve had a look of complete shock on his face. "Wh-what? You two aren't ... ya know?”

Again, you and Bucky share looks of disgust. "God, no. He's like a brother to me."

"Yeah, I love Y/N like a sister. I'm definitely not in love with her." Bucky agrees.

Steve's expression is sheepish as he tries to explain himself, "but, but after the kiss you were staring into his eyes like you were in love!"

"We most definitely were not." Mumbling under your breath, you kept talking "his aren't the blue eyes I'd like to lovingly stare into."

Steve was shocked into silence by your statement.

"I think that's my cue to leave." Bucky wore a smug grin as he slapped Steve on the back, uttering a quick "good luck, punk" before leaving.

It was quiet for a minute, neither of you quite sure what to say.

"Who's blue eyes do you want to stare into?" Steve broke the silence, shuffling closer to sit on the side of your bed.

"What?" It took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you said that sentence out loud. "I said that out loud?" You threw your hands up to cover your face, mumbling about being an idiot to delay having to answer.

"You did. So... who's blue eyes?" Steve's demeanor quickly shifted from shy to confident. He slowly moved your hands off your face, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes. One look had you confessing all your secrets.

"Yours. It always been yours." He rubbed his thumb across your cheek, leaning in closer to you until your foreheads were touching.

"Let me take you on a date." His words were barely a whisper, the warm air from his breath sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded in response, not trusting your voice.

He leaned in closer, barely brushing his lips over yours. "I need words, sweetheart."

You pushed forward, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.

"Yes."

[princess-of-disappointment]

Intruder Alert

Request from @perksofbeingatrex​: Hey I wasn’t sure if this was the right place to request? And if it is maybe y/n is a streamer and has an intruder or something idk I like reading angsty/fluffy stuff

-----

Hi Hi!

Thank you so much for sending in your request! I’ll work on figuring out a system for requests, but in the meantime if you’d like to send anything in via dm like she had, I have no issues with it! I’ll respond as soon as I see it just for some clarification and to let you know that I have indeed seen your request with no problems. :)

Anyways, @perksofbeingatrex​ I hope you enjoy this! I really enjoyed writing it and funnily enough almost started it in a completely different way (saved that beginning for a future writing).

I will admit my usage of the word “you” feels very repetitive so if anyone out there has any suggestions about helping that for future writings that would be greatly appreciated!

-----

Intruder Alert

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader (y/n)

Warning: Angst / Fluff

Specific Warning: CREEPY AF, intrusion, stalking?

Summary: During a stream of Among Us, y/n receives some creepy messages in chat which quickly escalate.

Word Count: 1,438

-----

After being a streamer for a few years, you had become used to some of the peculiar and out there things that people have said in your chat. However, today, a day no where near Halloween or any other related event, you were most definitely not expecting to be receiving some of the absurd and rather creepy messages that you were receiving.

“You still live in (town name), right?”

“Is that a lawnmower I hear? I must be getting closer.”

“I can’t wait to see you in person…”

There were more of these messages and every time a user sending these would get banned, it almost seemed like double that amount would pop up. For awhile you were truly creeped out and then you went through the moments where you thought chat was just trolling you, however one message in particular really got you on edge:

“Blue house, number 332, right? Looks like no one else is home.”

That comment alone made a shiver run down your spine. You weren’t certain if they got the town correct or even the state you were living in, but this was too much of a coincidence to ignore as those specific details matched your home exactly.

Your roommates were out of town visiting family and friends and you had opted to stay at the house to hold down the fort and you had thought that it would be a pleasant experience to have the place to yourself for once.

Not knowing how to respond to that message you completely halt what you were doing both in real life and the game that you were currently playing which happened to be Proximity Among Us with Corpse, Rae, Sykkuno, Toast, Poki, Ludwig, Leslie, Peter, and Karl.

You were imposter that round meaning you were allowed to look at your chat and you had simply been keeping an eye on it due to the strangeness of today’s chat. You didn’t comment on anything that had been said and were actively engaging in a conversation with Corpse as you were following him around the map when that particular message rolled in.

“You could totally kill me right here, y/n, and no one would know. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Laughing, you had responded with, “Corpse, I am not imposter and I certainly don’t-” your words slowly begin to fall flat when you read that message and you stop moving your character as you turn away from your screen to peer at the other monitor to ensure you read that right.

Corpse noticed the change in behavior quite quickly. How could he not when you had been happily laughing beside him and then you suddenly weren’t, “y/n? Is everything alright?”

You had no idea how to respond as you quickly got up to lock the door of the room that you are in, bumping into a light stand while in a hurry, knocking it over. Your mic being unmuted caught this sound and alerted Corpse that something definitely wasn’t right. With your lack of response to his previous questions to you, he decided to attempt to call your cell phone which happened to be sitting on your desk.

As you finished up repositioning the light stand that you had knocked over, your phone began to ring. You answer immediately and mute your mic both in game and for the stream before going over to the only window in the room and closing the curtains quickly, “Corpse? Wh-what’s up?”

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I should still be streaming or calling the police… Oh my… I should be calling the police,” you trail off as you mentally make note of anything and everything you have ever heard about being in a situation where there may be an intruder, you just never thought that it could ever happen to you, much less on stream where your thousands upon thousands of viewers could see.

“What’s going on right now?” You were freaking Corpse out, you could hear it in his tone as he asked the question in which you weren’t quite sure of the answer, and with how heightened your senses seemed to be out of the mixture of pure adrenaline and fear, you knew you couldn’t have both of your anxieties going rampant at the moment.

“I-I… I’m not quite sure… I think someone may be outside of my house. The roomies are out of town and I’ve been getting these messages in chat and I thought that maybe they were just trolling but this one… This one…”

You’re cut off by a loud noise sounding from somewhere within the house and you quickly cover your mouth in hopes to make yourself quieter. You move to the far corner of your office with your phone in one hand and grabbing the light stand as you pass it. It wasn’t the best option for defense if necessary, but it was light enough for you to carry and could put some distance between yourself and whoever was to enter the room.

On the other side of the phone line, Corpse had quickly ended his stream and used his home phone to call the police, giving them your address before grabbing his mask and car keys. “y/n, stay on the call with me. I’m on my way over. I’ll be there soon, okay honey?”

“O-okay…” you speak as quietly as you could and thankfully Corpse had been able to hear the short response as he starts his car and turns his phone on speaker phone before setting it in one of the vehicle’s cup holders.

Thankfully you lived in a small town about a half hour away from San Diego and traffic wasn’t as bad as it could be as he was able to arrive at your house just within that 30 minute time range. When he arrived the police had already arrived and you were standing outside with them discussing what had happened.

Those 30 minutes waiting for Corpse’s arrival had been terrifying. You refused to turn off your stream in case it were to capture something, but you worried about ruining the game experience for your friends. These conflicting thoughts ran around your mind, yet you were frozen in the corner of your room as you heard more noises throughout your home and over time they slowly got closer and closer to your locked door. They were right outside of your door when the police arrived and entered the building. Thankfully, the person outside your door hadn’t planned on this and was handcuffed to be taken in for questioning. Even so, you were still shaky and anxious about the whole experience. On your way out of your house to chat with the police, you gave your camera a brief wave before leaving the game and the stream - you would have to apologize to your friends later for leaving without an explanation but for now, it was too fresh to discuss online.

You answered all the questions brought your way to the best of your ability and although you knew you were safe now, you were still uneasy and knew that only one person could make it all better… And then he arrived. Once you had caught his eye, tears began to fill your eyes. Throughout this whole experience, you had managed to keep the tears at bay, but once you saw him, your rock, your person, arrive they just seemed to want to be let free. You quickly excuse yourself from the questioning and rush over to Corpse.

As though he could read your mind, he opens up his arms to embrace you once you were within his reach. Your hands lace under his arms as you gently clutch at the back of his hoodie while holding him while his arms wrap around your figure and his head leans to rest against yours.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” He mutters softly before pecking the side of your head.

“No no no… You got here at the perfect time… The police got him and they were finishing up some questions and now they’re leaving and…” You pull away slightly to look at him mid-rant, “Can you just… Can you stay here with me? Like just for the night or whenever…”

He smiles softly before leaving a kiss on your forehead and gently nuzzling the side of your head, “I don’t plan on going anywhere right now princess.”

A small smile appears on your face at his words, “Really? Can you stay until my roomies get back home?”

“Of course I will.”

[weepinglevi]

jean kirstein as your 1920s servant

summary: 1920s!jean as a servant (footman) and his adventures (he also has adventures with the earl's daughter) warnings: nsfw in the end, and also somehow a bit angsty? don't ask me how that made it's way in. overuse of the word "milady" (i can't even say i'm sorry about this) word count: around 950 A/N: i've been watching downton abbey again. this is a mess and i don't even know if you can call this headcanons or a drabble or an imagine - let's just say it's a bit of everything. i will probably come back to this idea, too. not proofread so if you find any glaring mistakes don't be afraid to point them out! i hope you enjoy reading this just as much as i enjoyed writing it! feedback is greatly appreciated and take care. xx

first of all, he'd look absolutely fine in his livery. the striped waistcoat and coat tails making him seem even taller than he already is, the proud stance whenever he serves breakfast makes you think he’s waiting on the king and queen – not some earl and countess.

fine as heck in his normal clothes, too. a snug fitted corduroy suit with flap pockets being one of his most prized possessions, it’s not even second-hand. he tries to look put together but there’s always some part of his shirt not properly tucked in and his hair sticks out in weird ways at the end of the day – all the pomade in the world can’t help him, though he tries.

he gets in trouble with the butler more often than not. flirting with the kitchen maids even though he should be upstairs, waiting on the lords and ladies, has gotten him smacked over the head more than once. it’s one of the reasons as to why he simply can’t climb up the servant’s ladder – he just likes to have his fun sometimes, ya know? loves hearing the girls giggle at his compliments, too.

on his days off, he’ll take one of them to the pictures. pay for her ticket and let her have a fun time, be a full-on gentleman and bring them back to the estate just in time. he’d never take it any further than that, though. he doesn’t want to get them into actual trouble and with the eyes of the housekeeper lurking around every corner, he’ll settle for a small peck on the cheeks. they squeal anyways, hurrying off to the servant’s quarters to tell their friends all about the evening.

he knows how to drive, too. he’s not good at it, though, and is only allowed to drive if there’s absolutely no other option. whenever her ladyship hears the chauffeur fell ill, she’ll always opt out of driving and take the carriage instead. jean’s just too hot-headed to work his way around the engine and he’s embarrassed to admit but; he’s had a slip of his tongue more than once in front of the lords and ladies because of his rage.

in the evenings, he plays snap with the other footmen and hallboys – always causing a ruckus in the servant’s hall which has him getting in trouble yet again. at this point the others wonder as to why he hasn’t been kicked out like a dog, the butler seems to be on his last nerves with him. they don’t know about his little secret, though – you.

he made eyes on you the first lunch he served on you and your family, practically gawking. thankfully nobody but you noticed, and you made sure to keep it that way. if your father only as much as suspected someone making advances on one of his daughters, that someone would be out of work in a matter of seconds. and you couldn’t have that.

you knew of the trouble the two of you could get yourself into but this didn’t deter you from your plan to have him. maybe it was your rebellious side finally acting up, wanting to break free from the heavy confines of your life – but mostly it was because of the way jean carried himself through the corridors of your home; as if he wasn’t a servant. as if he was head of the house.

you called him jean instead of the formal “kirstein” the first time you spoke to him in private, having him blush and shift on his feet. he didn’t know how to handle himself around you at first, but you knew your way around his defenses – how to make him know that it’d be alright if you and him were to come closer.

it’s been a year since you first shared a hurried kiss in the drawing room and after that you needn’t ask him twice to join you late at night in your bedroom.

he’s cockier now, slipping through your door and getting rid of his suit on the way to your bed – both of you know there isn’t much time until dawn breaks and the other servants would wake up to get the fires started. he had to be gone by then.

pulling the heavy drapes of your four-poster bed shut behind him, he’s already pushing up your nightgown, causing your skin to grow warm under his touch.

this is how you got here, having him breathe “milady” against the crook of your neck as he’s buried deep inside of you, never daring to call you by your first name; no matter how many times you asked him to.

you know he’s had many other women but you couldn’t care less, pulling him in even closer until he is flush against you, trying to drink in his recklessness – his freedom and his pride.

coming undone under him, he is soon to follow, rutting against you desperately. “milady, milady, milady,” an answer to your whispered “jean.”

having him rest on your chest like this, air heavy with his and your scent, you try to imagine a world where the two of you could live a life out in the open. playing with his hair, you make a face as he starts to move away from you.

“stay.”

“you know it’s not possible,” being the only thing that leaves his lips as he opens the drapes again, soft light of the candles illuminating his features as he gets dressed and sends a glance over his shoulder, “goodnight, milady.”

“goodnight, kirstein.”

his expression turns sour at the sound of his last name out of your mouth, but he nods and leaves through your door without another word.

taglist: @deludedimagines @aotwrites @peachysimp @blondeboyfriend @odmlevis @bellasw4an @jeageristbaby @starrynightlys (i hope u are ok with me tagging you, claire ahah) wanna be tagged in my next work? fill out this form. addendum: i know this thing is impossible to happen - an earl's daughter frolicking around with a footman for over a year without being caught or even falling pregnant but PLEASE. footman jean. that's all i need.

[genshin-obsessed]

THAT XIAO IMAGINE HURT MY HEART OMFG. Would you possibly consider writing something similar to that for Diluc where maybe Diluc is spending so much time with Lumine that the reader separates herself from them and tries to leave because reader believes Diluc loves Lumine? God my heaaaaaaaaaaaaaart 😭😭😭😭😭

I FOUND IT! I finally found it😭😭 I really thought I lost this and was a little upset, but I found it. Ok, so I took pointers from the last one and the ending isn’t as angsty as I want. I hope I don’t disappoint with it though! It also turned out to be much longer than I expected. Wanna guess how long before I start hating this banner too? I give it a week before I never wanna see its face again. Length: 1.8k

Pointless

You and Diluc had a beautiful and healthy relationship. You two had been together for about three and a half years. You had met while you were still a novice adventurer. You were extremely shy and reserved, but he found it adorable. He found himself so attached, he was unable to think of anything but you when you weren’t around him.

He often found himself seeking you out, needing the attention and happiness you brought him. Within a few months, Diluc knew what was happening. He was in love. He was so madly in love he couldn’t help it. He found himself getting jealous, wanting to keep your attention on him and only him. Finally, he pushed himself to confess. To his pleasant surprise, you agreed, claiming you liked him as well.

Ever since then, your life was amazing. It was filled with joy every single day. You often woke up, feeling brighter than ever, knowing your life was blessed. You knew Diluc was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Knew.

Then she came along. Lumine. The beautiful blonde girl, one who wasn’t from this world. She was able to wield anemo and geo powers without needing a vision. She helped Diluc, Venti, and Jean with the Dvalin issue. Diluc promised you that after he was done with that problem, he’d be back with you. But he never did.

After Dvalin, Lumine said she needed help with her adventuring and he went with her. Now, normally you wouldn’t mind it. Lumine had learned about Diluc’s side job- the Darknight Hero- and she needed help. But Diluc never came to your adventures with you. Not to mention, he didn’t tell you about his Darknight Hero job until you found out two years in. It hurt that you felt as if Lumine was getting different treatment.

You would often go to the manor to find out that Diluc had already left with Lumine on some stupid escapade. Finally, you’d hit a wall. What were you supposed to do? Break up with him and then do what? Watch as he continued to live life with Lumine? Were you supposed to smile and wave every time you saw him? Were you supposed to pretend you weren’t shattered that Diluc actually found a woman of his caliber?

Your mind was plagued with thoughts like that, so much so, that you would get distracted. Of course, you hadn’t realized how dangerous that was… until you were here.

You screamed as a mitachurl shield bashed you, causing you to fly back and roll on the ground.

“Oh, I hate my life.” You groaned, pushing yourself to stand. The world was spinning and your vision was blurred. The pain shot through your body and you prepared to die. Maybe Diluc would regret something if that happened. As the strength drained from your body and you prepared to surrender, you felt arms surround you. Your body was enveloped in warmth as you were quickly moved away.

Unable to tell what was happening, you went along with it as you felt your back touch a tree. You slid down as the dark figure moved away. You touched your aching head and noted they returned in a few minutes.

“D-Diluc?” They crouched down in front of you and took your head into their hands.

“Diluc? I don’t know who that is.” They said. Finally, your vision cleared up and you gazed into beautiful, golden eyes. “Are you ok?” He had green hair, beautiful eyes, and a purple diamond on his forehead.

“I uh… y-yeah…” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks flushing a deep red.

“You’re red. Are you sure?” You nodded, pushing him away and standing up. However, you stood up too quickly and felt the world spin. But before you could fall, the man had caught you again. “Careful!”

“I… I’m sorry.” You mumbled, before relaxing into his arms. Shy or not, you don’t know how badly you’d been hurt.

“Just… stay still.” He mumbled, picking you up with ease. You let your head rest on his chest, closing your eyes for a minute. In your time of need, your boyfriend didn’t save you… why? Because he chose to be out with another girl. Yet this random man, he was here for you. He did save you.

***

“Will you be ok?” The man asked as you walked out of the healing house. You nodded to him.

“Yes. Thank you so much for bringing me here. I really appreciate it. I-I’m (f/n).”

“I know… I’m Xiao.”

“Xiao… it’s nice to meet you.” You beamed, holding your hand out. He stared at it for a minute before taking it in his and giving it a gentle shake.

***

Ever since that day, you’d felt less hopeless. You hadn’t been as worried about Diluc because you had Xiao. Xiao had mentioned he’d seen you plenty of times while you were adventuring. He mentioned he thought you were strong, but didn’t understand what had gone wrong the day he met you. You chose to lie and say it was because you were tired but needed the commission money. He called you careless for taking on a job you were too tired to handle. He also added that he’d been joining you every now and then to make sure you stayed in one piece.

However, as the days went on, Xiao accompanied you on more and more adventures. You’d started to forget about Diluc and felt less and less burdened by him choosing a new girl. In fact, it had been weeks since you’d seen him. You two still met up every now and then for some pathetic date, but even that stopped.

You opted to spend time with Xiao, someone who could help you forget your worries. You’d almost completely forgotten Diluc… until you saw him.

You and Xiao were in Liyue looking at some wares, when you saw bright red hair in the distance. Your heart stopped and you felt the anxiety start to build up. But the thing that hurt the most… was that Lumine was with him. You had no idea what to do. Well… there was one thing. You moved yourself directly in front of Xiao, whose back was facing Diluc and Lumine.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” You looked up at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m… sorry but c-can we s-stay like this? Fo-for a minute?” Xiao was hesitant, but nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” You let your gaze fall on his chest, but all you could think about was Diluc and Lumine. He… really did love her. It hurt, even now, it hurt so bad. It tore your heart to shreds.

As Diluc and Lumine started to walk away, you moved Xiao so that he could hide your figure. It didn’t take a genius to figure out you were hiding from someone.

“So, that’s Diluc. Nothing special.”

“What?” 

“That’s him. The man you’re with, correct?” You immediately shook your head, but Xiao looked at you, silencing any protests. “I know. I saw you two together. About three years ago. You two were happy. I’m assuming that’s his new woman.”

“You...knew?”

“I knew of you two three years ago. I didn’t know anything about him. I figured he must’ve been Diluc when you called out to him six months ago.” The day he saved you. “Tell me.”

You broke. Xiao took you to a secluded spot where you told him everything. You couldn’t tell, but Xiao was furious. He hated how you’d been treated. Someone like you deserved the world, all the love the world could offer, yet… here you were crying about some idiot who couldn’t even treat you right.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me.” You said, tears sliding down your cheeks. “She’s better. Lumine is stronger, she’s beautiful, she’s talented, she doesn’t even need a vision, she’s… better in every single way.” Xiao took your face, lifting your head to meet his eyes gently.

“I don’t think so.”

“But h-he wants her. N-not me…” His thumbs brushed away your tears.

“So?”

“Wh-what do you mean so? I love him and I-”

“Don’t need him.” You looked up at his gorgeous gold eyes.

“What?”

“You don’t need him. You want him. You want him back and for him to love you, but you don’t need him. You’ve stopped needing him since we met. Admit it.” He was right. With Xiao, you’d almost completely forgotten Diluc. Almost as if you’d moved on already.

“But…”

“It’s ok. It’s ok to move on so quickly. It’s ok to no longer want to spend your life with someone. It’s ok to let go.”

“Xiao…” You hadn’t even noticed his lips getting closer and closer until they were almost touching yours. But, Xiao pulled away and let go of you.

“You don’t need him.” Xiao stood up and patted your head, before walking away. You watched his figure disappear before leaning against the wall behind you. Maybe… he was right.

After a few minutes of contemplating, you stood up, feeling a great weight lifted off your chest. Yeah, you didn’t need Diluc anymore. Might as well officially break up with him.

You took a few deep breaths before scouting out Diluc. It wasn’t too hard, he stood out quite a bit.

“Diluc.” He turned around and his vermillion eyes widened.

“(f-f/n). Hi.”

“Hey, can we talk in private?” He nodded as Lumine left and you pulled him aside. For some reason, you felt no fear or anxiety. Just… peace. “I think we should break up.”

“Wh-what?”

“I think we should end this… whatever this is. Because let’s be honest, it’s not a relationship anymore.”

“B-but. Wait a minute, d-don’t do this-”

“I didn’t do anything. You did. I’m just going along with your lead.” You could see the sadness in his eyes but you refused to let it get to you. “You want Lumine, right? It’s ok! I’m completely fine with it. She’s a better option, I know. She’s strong, talented, beautiful, just better. Isn’t she?”

“But wait! You can’t just do this. You can’t leave me. I-”

“Don’t need you.” Diluc stared at you with wide eyes as you recalled Xiao’s words. It felt so good to say it out loud.

“What?”

“I don’t need you. You don’t want me. So why are we wasting our time like this?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Why? What do you want from me? We haven’t even seen each other in over a month. There’s no point in trying to revive this relationship. There’s nothing left of it and to be frank… I don’t want it.” You gave him a hug, one he was barely able to reciprocate before you pulled away. However, he grabbed your hand.

“Please (f/n).”

“No. You want Lumine. Have her.” You shook his hand off and smiled brightly before leaving. You felt tears well up in your eyes again but it was ok. You knew it was ok, even as they slid down your cheeks.

Xiao smiled to himself as he leaned against the roof. He closed his eyes, engraving his mind with your figure. The way your hair flowed behind you, the way the sun shone down on your figure, the way you confidently smiled and walked away, it was all so beautiful and perfect.

“I have fallen in love with an exceptional woman…”

[spenciegoob]

The 4 Types of Manipulation

A/N: hey hey hey cuties... just thought I’d drop in to tell you I love you and Harry Styles at the Grammy’s, oh and Miley Cyrus in general. Okay that’s it.

Summary: Spencer has to interrogate an unsub, but she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Unsub!Reader

Category: Not fluff, but not angst... angsty fluff? fluffy angst?

Content Warning: mentions of murder, manipulation, mentions of sex in the form of flirting, mentions of drug use, mentions of emotional abuse

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.8K

____

Nobody dared to take a breath out of place, every profiler was packed into the room watching with careful eyes at the sobbing girl in the interrogation room through the glass. No one knew what their first step should be, but I guess there’s a first time for everything, right? Winging it was not something anyone in the BAU enjoyed doing, each case needed a thought out plan.

But they’ve seen this unsub before, they know the profile, the history, they know her. So why was she crying so hard that the weight of her head became unbearable, leaving her only option to sob into the crooks of her elbows as best as she could with wrists cuffed to the table?

Nobody knew, except for Spencer Reid.

Emily was hesitant, as expected, to blindly send in one of the best agents she’s ever seen into the room that with each tear shed slowly morphed into a lion’s den. Reid deserved better, she knew that, especially since the last time they dealt with an unsub like this one, Spencer had to be so far out of the loop that the case almost broke him.

He put up a good fight though, and if the determination set in his eyes wasn’t enough to inform the unit chief that she was not winning this argument, his deviance to storm through the door, startling the young woman chained down definitely did.

Why was it always Spencer?

Tears:

“P-please, I didn’t do anything.” Those were the first words anyone’s heard her say since the arrest, even if they were separated by sniffles and choked out sobs. 

Spencer just stared down at her, not taking the risk to further entertain the stuttering girl with wet cheeks and tired eyes.

“I promise I’m not a murderer. You have to believe me, please.” That promise whispered so quietly made with unbreakable eye contact urged him to take a second to reevaluate the situation.

She was apprehended in place of Jacob Hughes, the man they had originally been looking for. There was a chance she wasn’t complicit, a chance she was innocent. Maybe Jacob placed a hair of hers at the latest crime scene because he knew they were closing in.

Or maybe she is just as sick as he is. 

“Prove it,” Spencer said, his tone loud and assertive, leaving no room for argument. She didn’t plan on fighting his demand anyway.

“I- I haven’t seen Jacob for days. He drugged those men, and did h-horrible things. Those poor men.” This struck a nerve, everybody could tell, even the one person in this interaction that wasn’t a profiler. 

Spencer’s shoulders tensed for a millisecond, but she saw it. She saw what her words were doing to him, after all, he used to be one of those poor men she felt so sorry for.

Another loud sob echoed off the concrete walls before she bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe he mur... did that to them. H-how could he?” Spencer watched as the young girl looked up to him like he held the answer to the million dollar question. He studied the way her eyes bounced around his face, looking for something, anything to relieve some confusion when it came to her fiancé.

“Jacob Hughes is what we call a vindictive narcissist and a sadist. He receives pleasure from hurting others, and in this case, drugging and torturing men because he feels he’s been wronged his whole life. The question, however, is why. I know you know, just like how I know you’re aware of his crimes.”

It was a blow so low it could’ve come from hell itself. Spencer regretted it immediately when he watched the way her whole body stiffened at the mention of her knowledge, but he had to be certain no matter the fallout.

“I-I still don’t understand. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone.” Denial, guilt and fear all jam packed into 3 little words that had his heart dangerously close to breaking. The sorrow in her eyes believable enough that Spencer left his standing position between the suspect and the door to sit directly across from her.

She watched his movements with careful eyes, only stealing glances from her peripherals before returning to her cuffed wrists.

“Maybe you’ve never seen him physically hurt anyone, but we know what he does to you.” It was the first and only time Spencer let any emotion, as fake as it was, show in his responses. How could he not try when the girl resumed her sobbing at the implication of her past deception from the man she loves? 

“You know nothing,” she whispered back, her tone laced with defensive anger.

“I know everything.” Was he challenging her?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Was she challenging him?

“You know what it means.” Yes, he was.

“Do I?” Yes, she was.

The two stared at each other for the entire tone shift in the stuffy interrogation room. The other profilers on the other side of the mirror had no knowledge of how thick the tension had just become because unlike Spencer, they weren’t standing in the middle of it.

Small sniffles were the only noise breaking through the quiet until suddenly, they just stopped.

“Ugh, fine! You win this round. My eyes are starting to hurt from all this goddamn crying. Do people actually cry this much when you arrest them?”

Spencer leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms to clearly convey just how unamused he was with the girl’s antics. She watched him intently, picking apart every move down to the muscle trying to search for any indicators that her little performance worked even a fraction of what she was hoping for.

And she got her wish in the form of the agent’s fingers tapping lightly at his sides under perfectly muscular, if she may add, arms, because any other movement would have been too obvious.

Spencer Reid was getting nervous, because the second her facade faded, he lost the upper hand. She just had to get him trapped in here.

“Oh come on. Not even a ‘good job’? I wasn’t expecting full blown applause, but some appreciation for that show would be nice.” Still, Spencer gave her nothing. He needed her to keep talking, and filling silence was a sure way to make certain she did just that.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know, but first you have to admit that I had you fooled for a second there.”

Lies:

“No.” Unexpectedly, instead of getting frustrated with Spencer’s refusal to play along, she just smiled brighter. This was exciting to her, and it was getting on his nerves.

“What gave it away? Did I look to the left before I spoke or something?” Spencer kept his mouth shut. “Come on, what’s my tell? Enlighten me.”

She copied his movements as Spencer leaned over the cool, metal table slightly, eyes racking over her face, lingering on certain parts for longer than others.

“No.” At this, she huffed back in her seat, leaving the close proximity that would later be used as a secret tool against the doctor before he had the chance to catch on. 

“If you’re just going to shut down every single one of my proposals, then why am I here?”

“You’re here because you’re a suspect in a series of 7 murders in the past 5 weeks.” She perked up at his words, amusement dripping from her features.

“Finally, Doc has something more to say than just ‘no.’ Tell me, was that so hard?”

“No.”

“Ugh!” Rolling her eyes would be giving ammo to the enemy, but the urge to do so was quite strong. In fact, she almost did until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the one way mirror.

“I’m serious when I say this,” she said, looking directly into Spencer’s eyes so he couldn’t accuse her of lying. “If you take the cuffs off, I’ll answer everything.”

“No.”

“Please! They’re seriously starting to hurt. I put 100% into that performance, and now it’s coming back to bite me in the-”

“Fine!” Spencer stood up carefully, not walking around the table until he was certain the girl wasn’t a flight risk, or worse. When he did finally make his way over, she sat completely still, not taking her eyes off where his fingers grazed hers as the handcuffs unlocked.

A breath of relief escaped her as she rubbed her wrists with the opposite hands, eventually feeling the blood fully return to all 10 fingers.

“Thank you.” It was so vulnerable and raw that it knocked Spencer back for a second. They locked eyes, and something deeper than he was ready for passed between them.

He didn’t know what it was, all he knew was that he hated it so much that he tore his eyes away immediately to return back to his original spot seated across from her.

“Answer me this-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Neither of them spoke for far too much time, and Spencer was growing more annoyed by the second.

“What?” It came out harsh, and mean, and downright cruel, but he couldn’t care less.

“Oh nothing, I just wasn’t going to answer anything. I really just wanted to fix my hair.” And, in being true to her words this time, she secured her hair into a messy bun using the elastic Spencer didn’t even realize was missing from his wrist.

“I’m putting the cuffs back on.”

“No wait,” she pleaded, halting Spencer’s move to get up. “They really did hurt, I wasn’t lying about that.”

“I don’t care.” He made his way over, forcefully grabbing both of her wrists before securing the handcuffs back on. Spencer only regretted his actions slightly when she winced at the metal now back to pressing into her skin.

“Yes you do. It’s your biggest flaw.” Instead of answering, Spencer just returned to his seat, leaning back with crossed arms. He didn’t need to listen to a psychopath tell him his flaws.

“You care too much,” she continued, not minding if he was listening or not. “It gets you hurt, other people hurt. I wish that wasn’t the case. You deserve better, Doc.”

Spencer didn’t engage, opting to gawk tiredly at the suspect, and watch the way her eyes flicker across his features, gauging for a reaction. She wasn’t done.

“Hey, okay, fine. I’m just messing with you,” she laughed, finally breaking her serious facade. “What? A girl can’t joke around while she’s being accused of murder?”

“Accused? Or caught?”

“Accused.” It was final, her tone immediately dropping to a fiery rage. Her defenses were up, and Spencer was never really good at playing on the offensive team.

This time, it was Spencer’s turn to analyze, watching the way the blood rushed to her cheeks with her rising anger level. How all of a sudden her eyes lost their playful glint, giving him the chance to fully see the soul buried deep in them. For a split second, she was completely unveiled right before his eyes.

Spencer, clearly not anticipating just how long the girl in front of him could hold her own, used his last bullet.

He placed the crime scene photos in front of her.

“You know who did this.” It wasn’t a question, he saw it in her eyes. Spencer watched the way they remained stoic even after looking at the bloody walls, and vacant eyes of the deceased.

“No.” Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Who are you protecting?” Her head shot up at his question, eyes flashing red before she blinked it away again. Subconsciously, she started to pick at her fingernails.

“No one.” It was a lie if he’s ever heard one. 

Fear:

“You’re lying. Who is it?” 

“I’m not lying.” She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. Instead, she gave her undivided attention to her shaky hands confined to the table.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Enough! Who are you protecting?!” At this, Spencer stood up and slammed his hands against the table with a strong amount of force that she flinched hard enough to further irritate her wrists.

He felt awful, the bouncing back and forth between them should have given him enough indicators that she wasn’t lying out of spite. But he couldn’t back down, he had her cornered and her only way out was to tell the truth.

“No one.” She wouldn’t look at him, even as she whispered. “Please stop.”

Spencer truly believed that he had her in a bind, an inescapable one at that, but it wasn’t the truth. Oh no, what the profiler failed to realize was she had him where she needed him.

“I have no information to give you,” she whispered before tagging along. “I’m sorry.” It was the first time she apologized for something Spencer could have seen as an inconvenience.

He believed her, too.

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” That was his form of an apology. Spencer wasn’t going to go any further with it, even if she was coerced into lying by whoever the true unsub is, she was still getting on his nerves.

Her hands were still shaking at this point, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Spencer just slumped back into his seat, settling into the silence between them until ultimately he was either called out of the room, or she gave him another indication that her game hasn’t ended.

A loud sigh bounced off the walls. “I don’t care that you yelled in my face. You think it’s the first time a man’s done that? You’re not special, Doctor.”

“I never said I was.” So the game carries on, but this time, she didn’t smile at his sarcastic response. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed a breath before continuing.

“You really want to be though, don't you?”

Lust:

She was pushing his buttons, trying so hard to dig under his skin till she was unremovable. She wanted Spencer to leave this room with her on his mind for the rest of his days.

She was close too.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer deadpanned, trying to keep a cool tone. If he continued to hand her the ammunition she needed, he would be left defenseless.

“Oh come on, loosen up. I was just joking.”  A smirk grew across her features, a thought crossing her eyes. One Spencer knew would not be in favor of his win tonight. “I could help you with that, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” He did. Spencer wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that the woman sitting across the table wasn’t extremely attractive; she was. He just would never admit it aloud.

“I have a feeling you like to get rough, don’t you, Doctor?” She asked, sitting up and crossing her legs. The stare shared between the two of them was a mix between passion and anger, meeting in the middle to create a new kind of emotion.

“Is this fun for you?” She left out bait, and Spencer was stupid enough to fall for it. Emily once said that a pretty face slashed his IQ in half.

He couldn’t help but agree.

“Undo these cuffs, and I’ll show you what fun is.” She was toying with him now, and they weren’t going to get anywhere, but Spencer couldn’t find it within himself to get up and leave. She had him by the...

“I’m going to get that confession.” It was like he was five years old again, arguing on the playground with the older kids about how their insults didn’t make sense.

“What’re you going to do, punish me?” She asked, the last words in a hushed whisper. When Spencer’s cheeks grew hotter, and his eyes darker, she knew she had him.

“You do like to get rough! My, my, Doctor, you're keeping me at the edge of my seat here.” She let out a boisterous laugh before really digging the knife deeper. “Is that why you kept the cuffs on?”

Before he could snap back, the door flew open and Emily stood there with a tablet in her hand. “You need to see this.”

Spencer got up to leave, thankful for the reprieve even if he did have to return to the interrogation after speaking with Emily. He almost made it to the door before a voice called out behind him.

“Wait!” She called after him, the cuffs rattled when she instinctively went to reach for Spencer. “Aren’t you going to answer my question, Doctor.”

Playing chess his whole life, Spencer had never once played a game where Checkmate presented itself unexpectedly. He was always at least three moves ahead in his mind, seeing the inevitable end before he even began his gameplay. There was a first for everything, because his last move suddenly arose.

“No.”

_____

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[trixicbean]

Ok, hear me out... supercorp, no. 6, really angsty and somehow resolve the angst with no. 1

“It’s always been you” + “I’m going to marry that girl” + supercorp [read on ao3]

Kara chased Lena out of the apartment and down the stairs, Lena had taken the lift. Why did she say that? What on Earth was she thinking? She needed to pray to Rao and all the Gods anyone had ever believed in that Lena would forgive her. She made it down the stairs as Lena ran out of the lift. 

“Leave me alone, Kara!” she shouted as she went to run out of the apartment building. It was raining. 

“You’re going to catch hypothermia!” something overcame Kara and she suddenly didn’t care who saw her use her powers. She sped ahead and got to the door before Lena did. “Please just listen to me,” Kara begged.  

“I filled your office with flowers,” Lena yelled exasperated, “I bought you a company. I cleared my schedule any time you wanted to hang out. I broke every single rule, and I told you time and time and again how different you were, and you didn’t get the hint and now,” Lena took a deep breath, “Now, you tell me,”. 

“Lena,” Kara begged, stopping her from stepping around Kara, “Please,”. 

“I need some time,” Lena tried to step around her again, “It’s four years of flirting and I need some time so either you leave or I will keep storming out of my own apartment,”. 

Kara took a deep breath considering her options, she looked out into the rain. She opened the door and stepped into the open space so Lena wouldn’t leave, “I’ll go,” she smiled, “You were never meant to see that text,”. 

“Because that makes it so much better,” Lena deadpanned, going to turn away and go back up the stairs. 

Kara caught her hand to stop her from leaving and Lena turned to face her with a glare. “Let go,” she told her and Kara did immediately but Lena made no move to leave. 

“It’s always been you,” Kara told her before she turned around and walked off into the rain. She rushed into the nearest alleyway and changed into her super suit, flying above the city and calling Alex from the air. 

She thought back to that moment. How could she be so stupid? She’d gone to grab some more popcorn from the kitchen and Nia had texted her. Lena had picked it up. Her thumbprint was on Kara’s phone, it wasn’t unusual. If it were around Lena’s birthday or Christmas Kara would keep her phone hidden so she could keep secrets, but it was a boring day in January, so it was just laying on the couch. 

“Who is it?” Kara had called over to Lena as she poured the popcorn from the bag into the bowl. Lena hadn’t responded. “Lee?” she called out again.  

“I need some air,” Lena had choked out before running out of the apartment. Kara had dropped the popcorn on the counter, spilling half of it everywhere and running over to her phone. 

Nia: try not to look at Lena like you are completely and totally in love with her all night 

Kara cursed herself. Lena was going to have to clean up all her mess. She should’ve cleaned up before going down the stairs. Alex picked up the phone and she just let the tears fall down her face as her sister asked what was going on. 

- 

“So Lena is in love with you,” Alex spoke slowly as they sat opposite each other on the couch.

“That’s what she suggested,” Kara interrupted her sister, caution running through her. Lena was still pretty mad at her. She had ignored all of Kara’s apology texts that she had sent in the two hours since she last saw her. She didn’t want to assume anything. 

“So Lena is in love with you,” Alex repeated, a glare thrown her sister’s way.  

“There’s no evidence for it,” Kara sighed, interrupting Alex again. 

“Lena is in love with you,” Alex repeated again, her voice raising a little, glaring at Kara and almost daring her to speak, “And you’re in love with her,” she finished, giving Kara an expectant look. Kara nodded monotonously. 

“Where’s the issue?” Alex went on. 

“She’s mad at me,” Kara pouted. 

“So make her not mad at you,” Alex shrugged, “It’s Lena, all you need to do is pull out that pout,” Alex pointed at Kara’s lips, “Then you will be fine,”. 

“She said she wanted space,” Kara mumbled. 

“Ignore her,” Alex shrugged. Kara thought for a second. She had violated Lena’s trust and not listened to her again and again, she needed to listen to her now. She at least owed Lena that. 

“I don’t want to do that,” she shrugged. 

-

Kara avoided Lena for a while. Well, not exactly avoided her, just didn’t contact her apart from a one-line text. 

I’m here when you want to talk.

Lena didn’t show up at CatCo for two weeks and soon the pain of missing her best friend started to hit Kara and everyone was noticing. Snapper was yelling at her for moping multiple times a day for the first week yet halfway through the second he switched to actually being nice to her.  

Alex started dropping off various editions of Kara’s comfort foods after day three when she found Kara staring out of the window wearing Lena’s sweater and eating ice cream while crying. In Kara’s defence, it was triggered by an extremely depressing event involving a perfect puppy video that she couldn’t send to Lena because she was giving her space. After that, Alex was showing up most mornings with doughnuts and when she couldn’t make it Nia would show up with a box when Kara got to CatCo. Then there were the lunch deliveries of potstickers and dinner deliveries of various foods. 

By day eleven, Alex had hosted an intervention, claiming her wallet couldn’t handle it anymore. The intervention essentially involved dragging Kara out of her apartment for the next three days and keeping her so busy she was either always working, on Supergirl duty, training at the DEO or being dragged out to either the dive bar or a karaoke bar.  

Lena showed up at CatCo on day fourteen late at night. Almost everyone had left the offices. It was only Kara, Nia and an intern with one of the photographers in an office off the bullpen. Kara could hear Lena enter the building. Her heartbeat drew closer. Kara didn’t know whether to panic or dance around in excitement, the last thing she could do was work though. The words spun on the page as she heard Lena get on the elevator. 

She picked up her pen and started playing with it just to give her something to do. It snapped in half after she’d clicked the top twice. Nia looked over at her in confusion and at the same moment, the doors pinged before they slid open to reveal Lena standing there looking down at her phone. 

Kara’s heart stopped. She looked the same yet somewhat different. Kara couldn’t tell if it was tiredness or something else but her features had fallen a little and she looked like she hadn’t smiled in weeks. Kara cursed herself. She shouldn’t have given her space. She should have fought for Lena. She shouldn’t have assumed Lena would run and leave first like everyone else. She should have given Lena a chance. 

Then Lena looked up and for just a second her eyes lit up and her features lifted a little, her bag going a little straighter but it was just a second. Then her face fell again. She doesn’t want to talk. Kara’s heart sunk yet she still stood up out of her chair as Lean left the elevator and turned away from Kara.  

“Lee,” she called after her. 

“I need more time,” Lena replied as she walked into her office, “I just need to sign some papers,”. Kara sighed and leaned against the nearest wall. The last two weeks had been hell. She couldn’t care less if Lena loved her back, she just wanted her best friend again. She missed Lena more than she could bear. Her life without Lena was unbearable. She’d take her back in any capacity. She needed her. 

Kara tried to hold back the tears as she sank to the floor against the wall. Her head falling against her knees as she hugged her knees to her chest. Kara hated this. She didn’t know how long she stayed there but then someone was standing over her. It might have been a second after or an hour but someone was standing over her. 

“Stand up,” Lena’s exasperated demand broke through Kara’s thoughts. Kara lifted her head and looked at her. “Just stand up,” Lena smiled. She smiled. Kara couldn’t help but smile. Lena stepped forward into Kara’s space and lifted a hand to her cheek, wiping a tear away gently. 

“I want the record to note that I am still mad at you,” Lena smiled before she leaned forward and captured Kara’s lips in a gentle, cautious kiss. It took a second for Kara to register what was actually happening but then she reacted and the kiss quickly became so much less cautious and so much more perfect. If that was even possible. 

Lena pulled away gently and Kara’s eyes opened slowly to look into Lena’s. “You realise if you had told me sooner we could have done that so many more times,” Lena smirked in a whisper against Kara’s lips.  

“You didn’t tell me either,” Kara smiled. 

“I’m still mad at you,” Lena warned her sternly, a smile tugging at her lips. Kara just hummed non-commitantly and leaned forward, capturing Lena’s lips in another kiss. Lena smiled into the kiss and Kara couldn’t help but do the same as her hand gingerly found their way to Lena’s waist and pulled her close as Lena’s hands stayed on Kara’s cheeks, holding Kara close to her.  

Kara went to deepen the kiss but Lena pulled away, “This is a workplace,” she whispered against Kara’s lips before she pressed another light kiss there. Her hands withdrew from Kara’s as she pulled away from her touch. “Call me,” Lena winked before she picked up her bag and got on the open elevator. 

Kara sucked in a breath as her heart skipped a beat and she leaned back against the wall, her hand hovering over the lips trying to desperately preserve Lena’s touch. Someone cleared their throat in front of her and Kara opened her eyes to see Lena standing there, desperately trying to hold back a laugh as she raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“You have a little,” Nia indicated her own lips and Kara brought up her hand to cover her lips this time, turning to look into the reflection of the wall behind them. There was definitely Lena’s lipstick there. Kara wiped it away reluctantly and turned back to face Nia who was smiling widely. 

“What did she say?” Nia asked. 

“She’s still mad at me and that I should’ve told her earlier. I'm pretty sure the kiss was just to show me what I had been missing,” Kara sighed happily, leaning against the wall as Lena let out a laugh. 

“Should’ve told her sooner,” Nia smiled. 

“I know,” Kara turned to look to the place Lena had disappeared before she turned back to Nia, “I’m going to marry that girl,” she smiled. 

Nia shook her head with a smile and a sigh, “I’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out,”. 

[leviiattacks]

your angst is really good and i wanted to may i request guard levi and princess reader, they have an affair because they end up falling in love but one day levi can’t protect her because he takes his eyes off her and idk the plot i just felt like crying today and i need a reason so just something angsty😭

note :: i saw this and really wanted to write something but i’m not really sure if i did well it’s shorter than what i normally write but hopefully i did some justice to your request. requests are open so feel free to drop by again and request if you want to !!

++ might make this into an actual fic perhaps,,, minus the dying and what not but guard levi is a very interesting concept to me hmm

warnings :: blood, death, infidelity

No one knows or is able to understand why or how Levi is having such a hard time coping with your death. You are the princess of the nation and he, your guard. Nothing more, nothing less.

At least that’s what everyone else in the Kingdom thinks.

Every night he greets your book shelf like a mad man. Well, it’s all he has to remember you by, why would he ever let it go with ease?

"What you reading? Another sappy romance novel?" He's poked his head from a corner and you grin up at him telling him that you are indeed indulging in another piece of romantic fiction.

For an unknown reason dread fills his gut when he meets your smile, that's never happened before.

It's a bad omen, a sign that he's fallen but is in denial, refutation, rejection, contradiction whatever it is he can't find an appropriate word for it. All he knows is he'll regret this later. He doesn't know why but the sinking feeling in his stomach is an indication that this forbidden romance the two of you share in secrecy will go South.

It’s silent apart from your humming.

"Levi... can you promise me you'll live a long happy life?" The out of place question is worrying. Another premonition and he opens his mouth to voice his concern. However your gaze lingers on his face telling him to not cause a dispute, not right now.

"If you promise me the same, then yes My Lady."

Looking away you're awake but distant. "We are in privacy. You may use my name Levi."

"And, I don't know if I can live a long and happy life. I can try." The slow confession only makes his heart race uncomfortably.

He sighs sitting beside you, your shoulders rub against his. "Then I retract my previous statement. I cannot possibly live a happy life when the princess is discontent."

You flail your arms around, hands are flapping in front of your chest in an attempt to convince him to not think so foolishly.

He narrows his eyes. Expression unreadable, a mix of frustration, maybe even premature grief. It's enough to coax an agreement out of you.

"Very well, I promise to live happy."

Fists clenching your bed sheets he damns himself to Hell for ignoring his instincts. For putting your life in jeopardy all for his own temporary satisfaction.

His forehead hits the plush duvet and he inhales the linen hoping that your smell lingers, hoping that the vanilla is still present. Hoping there’s something left to prove he hasn’t made you up. He fears he’ll forget your scent, your voice, your touch. He fears he’ll forget it all.

If he had followed orders, never let himself grow emotionally involved perhaps you would still be here. Perhaps, if he didn't lead you astray and convince you to betray royalty by pursuing what the two of you shared, maybe just maybe you would still be alive and well.

He'll end up in damnation for all the pain and suffering he's caused you, He curses himself every day for having the nerve to fall in love with a member of Royalty.

No matter how well respected or how strong he was in the military he never had the power to protect you from the political turmoil your family was submerged in. He wasn't of Royal blood, there was nothing he could do to protect you.

One of you would die first, and die you did.

He assumes he was made to suffer through that bleak, unwelcoming night for a reason. That's why he had to see the enemy take you away from him, he needed to be given a reality check.

Royalty and commoners are worlds apart for a reason.

You scream at the world as you call for him, shrieking as the blade erupts from your stomach. It’s throbbing and strumming in vengeance. The contents of your belly become one with the floor but the pungent stench isn't enough to pry Levi away from you. The air is quickly fogging up with the scent of your blood and insides. You whimper, you cry, you sob staring at the heavens.

"You are not dying on me, You can't be dying on me, I won't let you die on me. We haven't said goodbye properly, you can't just-"

"Yes I can Levi. I am not immortal." There you are laughing as you wilt in his arms, you disregard the emptiness you feel, you need to comfort him. Withering away isn't an option for now.

Frantically attempting to staunch the wound to no avail Levi is distraught when he feels you slipping away from him. "You promised to live a long happy life." He murmurs in betrayal, his eyes are glazed over in complete shock.

Panting out of exhaustion and pressing down firmer he's pleading you to not let go of him just yet.

You watch him unravel above you, eyes squeezed shut, he’s lurching forward burying the sounds that want to escape from his chest so badly.

Your shaking hands travel to his cheeks cupping them gently and you draw hesitant circles into his cold skin.

Levi’s tears fall and you sense the dampness coat your fingertips.

"If you were paying attention you would know I promised to live happy Levi, not live long."

You broke the promise, an early death is not dying happy.

He's stunned, he should’ve known you’d pull something like that.

"You made me the happiest Levi."

He thinks that’s a lie.

You break under the pressure and finally admit how you feel.

"I'm scared, what if we never-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, we will do what we've planned. I promise." He growls assertive in his point of view.

But, you know it's too late. Placing his unsteady hand above your heart you let your other hand fall from his face. The energy is being drained out of you quicker than expected.

"I dreamt about you last night, dreamt we could be happy.” You hack and gasp desperately for breath but much to Levi’s horrified gaze the blood only trickles down your chin. “I hope we reunite whether that be in the afterlife if that place is real or in another life entirely. We will become lovers but we can't indulge in that luxury right now."

"No, no, no. Shut up, stop talking you're wasting your breath you need to-"

"I love you Levi, please live happily for me."

Then you are limp.

His eyes shoot open as the scene draws to an end. Yet another nightmare has plagued him, one where he is reminded of your passing.

The title of murderer is self appointed, he holds himself responsible for taking his eyes off you. It gave your assassin the perfect window of opportunity to strike, it had been enough to take you out like a faltering light.

Sometimes as he drinks into the night trying to forget it all. He wonders if everything would be different if he had kept his love for you locked away.

Would you still be alive and married to that other man whilst he would have to watch on in pain?

But nothing would be more painful than now, he’d rather watch that instead of accept that you are long gone.

Would you still be alive and forced to bed your horrible fiancé?

Would you carry that man’s children?

He hates himself for confessing and telling you how he felt. He despises that you had to suffer for his sin.

But, that’s the issue with love. It had made the danger in Levi look like safety to you and it had made the danger in you look like peace to Levi.

There are reasons why a guard and his princess should never mingle.

After all, they are worlds apart for a reason.

[heavenlyeros]

All this recent lore seemingly pointing us to draw the connection between Umun’arath’s corruption and Saladin slowly falling to the darkness himself is driving me crazy. Is Xivu Arath whispering dark temptations to our favourite angry warmonger? We don’t know, but it sure seems like it. And then, of course, we have the emotional rollercoaster that Osiris has been going through. Naturally, I can’t help but look (respectfully) at these two arrogant and extremely competent men 👀 They have both spent a very long time with only themselves, and they are both acutely aware that they are good, so it’s no surprise they’ve built fortresses around themselves - and blinded themselves in the process, too. It’s been exciting and terrifying hearing these two grow to respect each other over the past few weeks, but while Crow sways Amanda to acceptance... I was not quite expecting Osiris to be swayed to Saladin’s views. He was always quite firmly in the middle, for what’s logical for the greater good if nothing else, and it makes sense, but it hurts. And that exchange where Osiris confirms his support were Saladin to split from the Vanguard and go against their wishes? Sign me the f up.

I wrote a thing about this, of course: my interpretation of what’s been going on in Osiris’ brilliant, idiotic bird brain. Warnings for angsty O14, Sagira, and general sadness. This is only how I see it (hint hint please come scream about lore with me whether you think the same or different), shaped in part by some amazing lore people in the community (check out r/destinylore and also tumblr user homosiris’ essay on Osiris if you haven’t because dayum, that’s some good shit that echoes my angsty feelings just right): 

Picture this: you wake up one day from your forever-slumber with no memory of who you were before. The little drone who appears to have brought you back - your ghost - explains that the Traveller has gifted you with Light. You have infinite questions. You might not precisely remember the world you came from, but you know it has changed. Everywhere you go is a battle: the hive, the fallen, even your own kind - war lords versus iron lords. You find out that not many were given this gift. There is no other logical option, of course, but to keep fighting these battles to protect those who cannot. You don't understand, but every day answers a new question, and you have faith that the machine god in the sky must have chosen you for a reason. Years pass, outright wars, the weight of leadership. Your questions take different shape. Reason chips away at blind faith. You realise, one day, that the only gift your people have been given is the gift of war - that the Light's gift for you was to be a warrior. Endlessly. Your questions make others uncomfortable. Eventually you are exiled. Your student, your colleagues, your friends - they don't stick up for you. But you've been bearing the gift of dying to protect others forever. You must carry on. And despite all of your doubts and all of your anger, the Traveller's shackles, your ghost, your little light - she sticks by you. She never stops supporting you. She is your dearest friend. The two of you spend what feels like an eternity in the corridors of time. Not lost, but always searching. You make echoes, countless reflections of yourself, but for centuries upon centuries the only voices you ever hear are Sagira's, and your own. No one reaches out. They did not listen before, and they will not now. You carry on fighting in your isolation, forever seeking an answer to the most frightening of questions - how do you stop the end of everything you hold dear, the annihilation of your people? The few who paid some mind to your so called "prophecies" are little more than fanatics. It lends you little credibility. You are not only an exile, you are a pariah; you are alone and that extends beyond the simulated limitlessness of the infinite forest. You would not admit to it, but you are lonely, too. Time changes you. Confined within these confluxes, doubt takes roots, and you realise your mistakes. No one ever came to apologise to you. But more painfully than that - you have no one to apologise to. Would they give you the chance, if you were to return? Would they even be there at all? Or would everything you failed to prevent have crushed them into nothingness? You must fight on. Time also makes you powerful. You were always amongst the very best, but in the forest you hone your skills into the closest thing your kind has had to godhood. If nothing else, you have faith in yourself. If no one else, you will prevail. Something changes, one day. In the blink of an eye you are lost in the inevitability of the vex's machinations. You lose Sagira, too, for her own good, maybe for good. No matter; you must fight on, you must continue in your mission before the calamity has time to sink in. But another Guardian shows up. They carry the fight where you couldn't. They bring with them Ikora, too, and she seems willing to listen. She invites you to come back - come home. But what you did get back was your little light, and a million more timelines to explore, infinite new questions, and you know there will be no place for you in the City that threw you out. You have become invincible, and with that invincibility comes the wisdom of knowing where you cannot take another blow. You have spent eternity preventing untold histories repeating outside the realm of your control. You have grown skilled at not repeating history. Amongst the people who left you behind - whom you left behind, a little voice that might not always be Sagira's nags in the back of your mind - was the one that you loved most. You would never say, you would never risk it. So when you find out that he did not abandon you at all, but has come on a crusade to get you back -- you don't know what to feel. Joy. Horror. Love. Fear. Only, you don't know what you fear most. And suddenly it feels like your whole life's work has come to exactly this moment. It is now your turn to get him back. It strikes you, all at once, the suffocating loneliness you have endured. The tether to your sanity that was your clear purpose. It terrifies you, the hurt Saint has been subjected to. It terrifies you, too, the purpose that has kept him fighting. You don't know what to make of it. But in the end, you don't have to. You don't succeed. You wouldn't ever let your countless failings eat at you, but this failure is like a dagger through your chest. It is the Guardian, once again, who recovers Saint. Time is funny and cunning like that. You know where to find him. You know you would be welcome back, too, but time has made you see open arms as little more than a cage, a trap waiting to close in on your lungs and crush them. The guilt, most of all, cannot be reasoned with. Saint is good. Saint represents every ounce of Light you wouldn't believe in but cannot help still having faith in, even after all this time. Saint would not see in you the hate that you do. You cannot put him through that. Saint deserves the world, and even in your egotistical confidence you know that you are not it. So you must fight on. For the world that Saint deserves. Sagira, of course, is as always by your side. You don't know how it happens. One moment you are a fury of light in its every shape, and the next you are alone. Truly alone. You had accepted time has finally come for you. You were ready to die. Not... not this. But you must carry on fighting. You have nothing else left. It is once again the Guardian who saves you - this time because you asked. Not to save yourself, but to avenge her. Days and weeks and months pass and all you can do is drown in the fight. You must do it for those you love, so you do not lose any more, even if they will not have you back. The fight takes a different form now, but it is still a fight. You are confined to the City. The place that exiled you, now become prison. All because you dared ask the questions that terrified them! And you paid dearly for it. You are heartbroken and tired and underneath it all you are angry - an anger that bubbles pleasantly to overtake all of the pain. You must not give in to it. You are invincible. This, too, time will heal. So you tell yourself you fight because of love. Your love for the people, your love for this prison-City, your love for Saint. You catch glimpses of people looking at you with pity and it fills you with rage. You cannot escape this anger. It keeps you fighting because you are so, so exhausted, and there is no place for you to rest your head. You have made your loneliness into a way of life. You do not need their pity. You will prevail, as you always have. Sagira might be gone, but you will learn to carry on. You always have, you will prevail. You will fight for those who are hurt - you will not fight just to hurt those who hurt you. That is how it's meant to be. And you are always right. You are the Vanguard Commander's advisor now. It feels like a mockery - the mighty phoenix, now little more than a flightless canary in a gilded cage. You remind yourself these people care about you. That after all this time, and after all of your perceived wrongs, they have taken you back. You remind yourself it is them you fight for, any way you can. It is a slow road back up now that you cannot fly, but you will make it out. You will come out soaring. Victorious. You know it is true; you are always right. You work alongside Lord Saladin. He carries the same exhaustion you are all too familiar with less gracefully than you do. You see him be consumed by countless traumas, you see him for what he is - a shellshocked veteran flailing in resemblance of fight, clinging desperately to a place he used to have in a world that has moved on. He doesn't sleep, doesn't care for himself, his living quarters are a mess. You almost pity him, but you have to stop yourself to laugh at just how similar you are. Saladin is past forgiving. Saladin is past compromise. He has let the hate consume him, make him blind - but in his anger you see him come alive with a fire you know you shall never again harness. Perhaps Saladin is right. Perhaps you were wrong. Perhaps the only way to not give up is to give in.

[star-lemonade]

School reunion (1/3)

A.C.E Junhee x Reader

Cw: bulling, kinda angsty, Junhee is a sweet heart though

Rating: T (Series R)

Word count: 3.6 k

Summary: You hire someone to accompany you to your school reunion.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. The laptop sat on the kitchen table and the page in the browser was taunting you. You stared at the screen from your spot against the kitchen counter. The empty boxes waited for you to fill in your information. Should I really do this?

You sighed and filled some water into the kettle just to delay having to make a decision. The other thing on the kitchen table was not better. It was an invitation to your school reunion. The reunion was scheduled for the Saturday of the following week at your old school. School. Even the address on the paper brought a bad taste to your mouth.

“You’re so ugly, who would ever date you?”

“I dare you to kiss her.”

“Yak not even for money”

You shuddered. No, no, there is no way I will go there alone. You sat down at the table and began to fill in the form. Name, address, phone and age. On the next page they asked about the occasion or event and you typed: school reunion.

Time? about 3 hours. I won’t stay there for too long.

Gender preference? Hmm I don’t actually care. ‘Don’t care’ was not an option, so you chose ‘man preferred’ over the ‘man only’, ‘woman preferred’ and ‘woman only’ options.

Age preferences? 25-35. I can’t show up there with an 18 year old.

Your finger hovered over the enter button. The shadow of your school days was still haunting you and made your hand heavier until you finally clicked check out.

You had officially rented a plus one for your school reunion.

A day after you had filled out the form you received a message from an unknown number.

“Hello, this is Junhee. I will accompany you to your school reunion next week. Would it be okay if I asked some questions so I can prepare?”

“Hi, Junhee. What do you want to know?”

“How should I introduce myself?”

You chewed on your lip. As you typed the next message your face felt warm.

“As my boyfriend.”

It felt so sad to ask this of a total stranger and you prayed he would not judge you for it. Please don’t question this, please don’t question this.

“How long have we been together?”

I guess that is a valid question someone could ask. You thought about it for a moment. It should not be too short but also not too long. The fact that you did know much about each other would make it not believable that you are together for years.

“A few months maybe?”

He asked a few more questions like “where and how did we meet?” (“at work while getting coffee”) and you answered them with whatever struck your mind.

“Okay. I think this is enough for me. Thank you!”

You sighed. This was actually more complicated than you had anticipated. At least now it felt real as opposed to just a scam to get money from people. Three dots appeared on your screen again.

“One last thing. This is also in the terms of service, but we all must remind our customers about this: I am not a hooker and you did not book sexual favours.”

Your face burned when you read that. Surely no one had asked for that before, had they?

“Of cause not, I just don’t want to go alo-”

Before you really thought about it, you had accidently pressed ‘send’ instead of backspace. Oh no. OH NO.

“Shit.”

My escort knows how pathetic I am. ‘As if he did not know before’ another part of you interjected. Your phone vibrated again.

“It’s okay, I will do my best to keep you company :)”

You did not know what to answer and just send:

“Thank you.”

As the reunion neared you found yourself thinking about it more. A sort of dread had settled in your chest. After all these years you would finally face your bullies. The people who had belittled you for not been pretty enough and made you believe that you could never find anyone who loved you. The worst thing was it seemed that they were right. You were single and you even had to hire someone… no. No, you would not let them get to you. The past years had been the happiest you had ever been. You had friends, even if they were not many, and you did well at your job. There was nothing not to be proud of. Even if you were single now, that did not mean you were unlovable. It just meant that you had not met a person that fit. You would walk in there, head held high and show those petty bitches you were not afraid of them anymore.

Your mood oscillated between confident and anxious for the whole week. You did not want to give them the satisfaction of knowing you were still so affected by them, that their mere presence could make you stay away. No, you had to go. Like this you killed the time to the day of the reunion.

You had rented a dress from a rental service. It was not too fancy but you simply did not own that many dresses and the ones you had did not seem appropriate. Someone on the organizing committee had decided that nice dresses and suits were what they wanted to see. You had messaged Junhee to wear something appropriate for that dress code.

“In a few hours it’s over.”

Your mirror image was not convinced by this but it was all you could do now. Backing out last minute would make you look bad, even if you really wanted to. All of this seemed like a bad idea. What if they found out that you had hired someone to play your boyfriend? You would be the laughing stock of the whole school and this after you had not been in school for years. For a moment you considered just taking off the dress, putting on some sweaters and sitting down on the couch. Your phone made a noise. A new message had arrived.

“At 5 pm at the station, right?”

Junhee.

“Yes. See you there.”

As if it was mocking you, the sun shone from a bright blue sky. The people on the street smiled more than you had seen in some time. On the other hand it was maybe your imagination. Now that you were walking to what could be the worst night of your recent history, everyone seemed in a better state than you.

You arrived at the station.

“I’m wearing a red dress.”

Maybe the dress was a bit much. It had seemed like a good idea. Wearing red would make you stand out. Now, however, that was the opposite of what you wanted to do. Fading into the background, turning invisible and just straight up going back home was what you really wanted right now. The only thing that was that held you back was the thought of the money you had spent upfront for your plus one.

Two young women stopped next to you. One of them sat her backpack down and tried to stuff a paper bag into it.

“Should I help?”

Her friend watched her struggle with amusement. Despite her offer she did not help backpack girl but looked around instead.

You shifted your attention to your phone. Junhee had seen your message. Good. I hope he will be here soon. So we can get this over with.

“Jeez, I wish my boyfriend looked like that,” the girl said as her friend proclaimed: “I’m done. Let’s go.”

Backpack girl dragged her friend away. At least she had a boyfriend. It was not like you needed a man in your life but it would be nice sometimes. Next week I will try tinder. From past experience that was not likely but the thought alone seemed to pacify your mind for now. Getting a boyfriend was future-you’s problem. Present-you had to worry about that goddamn school reunion.

Someone said your name.

“Hmm?”

You were not sure which part shocked you the most: the crisp black suit that hugged the man’s body perfectly, the curly dark hair that looked straight out of a romcom, the beautiful lips and handsome face, the million dollar smile or the soft voice that said your name. It was hard to choose.

“Ehm?”

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Junhee.”

“ID please.”

You showed it to the sour faced student behind the supermarket counter. He nodded and you paid. Buying hard alcohol in broad daylight was highly suspicious but this situation called for it. You definitely could not do this sober. Junhee had sat down on a bench not too far from the supermarket. The black suit and white dress shirt fit him perfectly. It was as if watching a photo shoot for the next wedding catalog. Oh, this is a catastrophe. You unscrewed the bottle and took a good mouthful. The cheap alcohol burned in your mouth and all the way down. No one in their right mind would believe he is my boyfriend. It could not be more obvious that you had hired him. Junhee watched the cars go by. The sun made his hair seem more brown than black and the light breeze moved the soft locks. You took another gulp and stuffed the bottle in your handbag. Did I accidentally book a model? There had not been an option for that of course. I should have asked for a photo. You left the store and walked over to Junhee. Maybe I should just send him home and go drink at a bar.

When he saw you, Junhee stood up. His charming smile filled you with dread. This is a car crash waiting to happen.

“Did you get everything?”

You nodded. Soon the alcohol would hit your brain. Maybe then you would care less about everything. You could not bring yourself to send Junhee away. He had come here, looking sharp and you had paid money for him to be here. Your stinginess won against better judgment, so your only option was the original one: go to your old school.

It felt like there was a black cloud of doom that thickened as you got nearer. The bad experiences from the past made every step you took towards that hell hole more difficult. You wanted to run away.

“Can I take your hand?”

Junhee. You had almost forgotten about him. He had not said anything for the past ten minutes or so. Maybe he felt that now was not a good time to talk. You offered your hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours. It had been some time since you held someone’s hand and it made your heart beat faster. Or maybe it was the liquor.

You turned the corner and there it was. The building looked the same as in your memory. Whoever had the idea of starting the evening here before instead of going to a restaurant directly, did not have your gratitude. Walking through the front door stiffly, you clenched your hands. Your whole body was tense. You were ready to fight or flee at any second.

Voices were coming from the gym. Next to the open door stood a table. On it were pens and stickers. As you approached a woman came through the door and smiled at you. It was the most fake smile you had seen in some time.

“Welcome! Please make a name tag for yourself.”

She made a swiping gesture to the table. You let go of Junhee’s hand and wrote your name on a sticker. The woman watched Junhee as he made a tag for himself. You had never been the jealous type but right then wanted to claw her eyes out.

“Have fun.”

You almost felt her looking as you entered the gym. The hall was filled with bar tables groups had formed and all eyes were on you. At one of the empty tables you stopped.

“I will get something to drink. What do you want?”

You barely heard your own answer over the ringing in your ears. The ceiling had been decorated but it made the hall seem more shabby. As if the paper garlands were only there to hide the cracks in the grey concrete. You looked around.

They looked back at you from the other table, pointed and smirked at each other. Your bullies. They looked old. The ten years since graduation had carved lines into their faces but they tried to hide it by applying too much makeup.

You felt sick.

“Hey.”

A hand landed on your shoulder and you jerked. Junhee pulled back his hand. He studied your face.

“Do you want to leave?”

You looked up. Leave? Leaving meant giving up. They won if you left. No, no you were strong. Your hand strangled your purse. You would not run away from them. Junhee‘s brown eyes watched the tremor in your hand.

“Let’s go,” he whispered and took your hand. Your skin was cold and sweaty against his as Junhee dragged you out. You were so shocked, you did not even say anything until you had left through the front door.

“Stop!”

You ripped your hand free from his grasp.

“You should not stay there any longer.”

“That is not your call to make,” you snapped at him.

His face flushed.

“No, but it is the right one.”

Before you could talk back he continued in a calm tone: “You don’t care about any of those people and they don’t care about you.”

He waved his hands.

“I don't know what happened in the past but you are not here to meet some old friends.”

Your eyes burned. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s humiliating. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision blurred.

“Not here.”

Junhee grabbed your shoulder and led you away. The tears fogged your vision, so you just followed wherever he was going. Your feet moved on their own accord and you were thankful for it. Holding back an undignified sob took up all your mental capacity.

“Sit.”

You collapsed on the bench. There was nothing holding the tears back now. You looked like an idiot in front of everyone. Your bullies had seen you turn up with an escort only to run away the second they looked at you. And now you cried on a bench in front of said escort. How pathetic had your life become? You had not felt this bad since leaving school.

Get a grip. There was nothing to be done here. You did not feel better by telling yourself this, but at least one of these could be fixed. Try to stop crying.

You concentrated on a point on the ground. The concrete was cracked there and something green had started to push its way to the surface. Plants are amazing. They can even exist in these places.

Your eyes still burned and your nose was all clogged up, but you had stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, Junhee.”

You looked up. There was no one around. When did he leave? You sighed and your eyes burnt again. I guess it is just that kind of day. Going home sounded like a good idea but you could not bring yourself to get up. The weight of your sorrows kept you on the bench. You could not even blame Junhee for leaving either. Usually you were very composed and rarely had outbursts of any kind, but today was just not your day.

“Here.”

A bottle of water entered your field of view. Your gaze followed the arm that was holding it up until you met Junhee’s eyes. You took the bottle and almost cried again because he was still here. For better or worse he had not abandoned you on a bench.

The water was cold. It had clearly been in a fridge not too long ago.

“Thank you.”

Junhee sat down next to you and waited while you drank the water. This day, although it was not over, was already a train wreck. Very carefully Junhee asked: “Can we get something to eat?”

You nodded slowly. Food was not a bad idea. You had skipped lunch because you had not been hungry at the time.

“Sure.”

Junhee stood up and looked around, hands on his hips. He turned to you and asked in a hushed tone:

“Where do we have to go?”

There was nothing funny about it but you laughed anyway. Junhee looked like a lost puppy and when he saw you laughing, he pouted. Now this really was funny.

“The station is that way.”

Junhee looked at his phone. He took off his tie and pocketed it.

“Technically I’m free to go now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “We just got here and ordered food and you want to go?” was what you wanted to say but swallowed it. You were still embarrassed and grateful that Junhee was there with you. He had made dumb jokes all the way to your favorite restaurant. It was almost on the other end of town but it was the only place you wanted to be right now.

“So, you wanna leave?”

“Leave? No, no!”

He waved his hands frantically.

“I … meant I’m not here because of work now.”

The soju had painted Junhee’s cheeks a rosy red. It looked good on him.

“What do you do when you don’t do this?”

You gestured vaguely at you and him sitting together in your favorite restaurant. Surely it had to be model or something like that just based on what you had seen so far. Technically you were not supposed to ask personal questions but your contract was done. Technically.

“I’m a student. I study computer science, but I will graduate soon.”

He took a sip from his drink. That rang a bell in the back of your mind. Computer science? Someone was talking to me about that not long ago. Who was it?

The waiter came and set your food on the table. He opened the lid of the barbecue that was mounted in the table.

“Have a good meal.”

“Thank you.”

When you left the restaurant, the sun had set. You felt a little awkward. It had been nice spending time with Junhee even if you had been very distressed earlier. Before you could really think about it, the words fell from your mouth.

“Thank you for spending the day with me. It was nice.”

You did not look at him. It felt unnatural but you meant it and had to say it.

“It was nice for me too.”

Junhee’s hair was not as neat as earlier. The waves had flattened and the way he always combed it left it looking disheveled. His cheeks were flushed from the food and the drinks.

You were not sure what to say. “Goodbye for ever” seemed a bit odd.

“Good luck with your studies. See you around.”

“Goodbye.”

You left Junhee at the restaurant and walked home. It was not too far so you could walk. The night air was refreshing after the stuffy restaurant. It also cleared the dryness of your eyes and nose.

Your apartment was dark and empty. You took a quick shower, put on your pyjamas and went to bed. The day had been emotionally exhausting and you were drifting into the fuzzy precursor to sleep. Your mind drifted through some memories and thoughts but nothing was clear. It hit you. You were wide awake because your brain had found the answer to the question. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand. The light from the screen nearly blinded you.

John, a name he had chosen because none of his overseas clients could pronounce ‘Seungmin’, was the CTO of a company that had their offices in the same building as your company. Without thinking much about it you sent Junhee John’s number.

“He is looking for some computer science people. Maybe that’s something for you. Anyways good luck and best wishes.”

You tried not to think too much about that day. It still felt like a defeat even months later. You had run away from your bullies. They had looked at you and you had folded. It was a bitter memory. The logical part of you noted that it was not worth your time, that you should focus on the tasks at hand and live your life.

You spent time with your friends and on your hobbies. Indeed your spirits lifted slowly. The less time you spent ruminating about the past the more time you could spend on other things.

“Let’s get lunch. I’m starving.”

You agree with your colleague. You grabbed your phone and keys. Your colleague was already at the elevator and held open the door.

Two floors down the elevator stopped and the door opened.

“Hey!”

John and some of his staff entered. You waved and smiled. John was a man in late 40 or early 50s, you had never asked, but he gave off the youthful energy of someone who loved his job. A ‘ding!’ announced the closing of the doors but John jammed his leg and arm between it.

“Hurry up, newbie! We can’t have you starve on the first day!”

Steps echoed in the hallway and the newbie flew into the tight space. The young man had dark hair and wore round glasses. With the dark blue sweater and the jeans he gave off the youthful vibe of a university student. He was very handsome and your face burnt.

Junhee.

[ciggylungz]

Eat your heart out

Blurb night- 1.8k words

(request: ok but what if u wrote one where y/n is a virgin and they finally did it after dating for months and then Harry's friends came to visit him and you overheard h talking how bad u are and all that angsty stuff...)

 Virginity

The word means a something different to everyone. Some people save it for marriage, some don’t care about it, others tie it to religion. It’s all up to personal interpretation and value. For Y/n, it’s not that she didn’t want to lose it, she just never felt ready until she met Harry.

She had met him through a mutual friend, they were both invited to a birthday party and just got on so well they decided to get to know each other better. Dates, hangouts, and many hours spent together later they had become official and now they’re 5 months in and going strong.

A few nights ago, she had finally felt ready. She had communicated to Harry at the start of their relationship she’d never been intimate with someone before and it might take her a while to feel ready to be so vulnerable with him, but eventually the night came and while it was a bit clumsy filled with trial and error she thought over all it was a special experience. Harry had made her feel comfortable, he had made her feel like she was beautiful and made him happy, so she’s completely confused and crestfallen at the words she’s hearing come from his mouth echoing through the spacious house.

“mate, it was bad. Like proper awful, I almost gagged at some points from how bad it was.”

A cruel laugh followed his words. Her chest felt hollow, like her heart had caved in just from his words. She couldn’t bring herself to stop listening, she guessed she was just a glutton for punishment because the hurtful words just kept coming.

“I thought being with a virgin would be hot!”

She heard the voice of one of his friends exclaim, she had never hated the sound of someone’s voice before that moment.

“so did I! it’s why I put up with the wait, thought she’d be bloody tight and a good shag, but I was dead wrong. She barely got wet; she didn’t even taste good! I couldn’t stay hard for shit, pretended to cum and everything just to get it over with. I didn’t know sex could be so bad!”

Another round of cackles and random bullying comments were made about Y/n among the group of men, at this point Y/n felt worthless. She felt like she failed, she felt dirty and stupid. Everything he’d ever said to her was now being questioned. she swears she could vomit.

“Jesus H, what a waste of a pussy innit? Don’t worry can get some girls lined up for you this weekend. Can trip and have a proper orgy, deserve it after pity fucking that dud.”

“Thank god! Need a good fuck after that nightmare. Line up a good few for me yea?”

Humiliated didn’t even come close to describing how Y/n felt right now. Not only had her boyfriend objectify and completely embarrass her to his friends, she’d just heard first hand that he hated it so much he had faked his orgasm, and was planning to cheat on her with multiple women in less than 24 hours. She was sick, her heart stomped on and her feelings completely crushed. She’d never felt so worthless, stupid, used and disgusted with herself. She had confided in Harry how she was scared to be vulnerable, afraid to be intimate with someone because she wasn’t ready to be so open and bare with another person. Harry had told her how she was worth the wait, how she was beautiful and he loved her but now she knew none of it was real. He’d just wanted to be with a virgin, and he hated the experience.

The vomit crawling up her throat had finally reached her mouth, the girl darting towards the bathroom to empty her churning stomach into the toilet tears springing to her eyes as her body tried desperately to purge out all the hurt yet the waves kept coming.

If anyone had heard her getting sick, they didn’t care since no one even called out her name. The girl didn’t even feel like an actual person anymore, just a defective object who was disposable. She couldn’t be here anymore, the emotional pain starting to manifest into physical symptoms as well. Her head pounding, stomach turning and ears ringing. It took all the energy she had left to shove some of her things into her bag to take back to her flat.

The girl was too humiliated to even face them, to confront Harry or mention what she had heard. She internalized all of it, pulling her hood up and ducking out of the front door silently. She suddenly felt lucky that the living room wasn’t in view of the entry way so she could slip out without detection.

 ----

y/n didn’t bother to leave a not nor text Harry about her departure, making her way on foot to the underground to get home. She hadn’t driven her car there since Harry had picked her up, and she didn’t have any service to get an uber so she opted for the easiest option.

The majority of the train ride she spent with her head down, thoughts racing as she desperately tried to suppress the sobs begging to be let out. she somehow managed to keep it together until she got into her flat, as soon as she shut the door her back was against it pained sobs wracking through her body.

When her bottom finally hit the ground she was reminded of the bruises she’d woken up with on her hips and ass from where Harry had gripped onto her.

Maybe that’s why he made me switch to all fours, he was so disgusted he couldn’t even look at my face. Maybe that’s why he seemed to get angry, I couldn’t make him feel good.

The soreness didn’t even compare to the internal injuries his words had left her with. It was as if she’d been clawed from the inside out, every hurtful word slashed at her organs. Her mind burning with self-hatred, insecurity and disgust towards herself. Y/n had always been insecure, she struggled with body image and confidence since she was a child and this ridicule of her natural state and what was supposed to be special tore her limb from limb.

She didn’t know how long it had been, she seemed to zone out finding herself laying in fetal position on the wood floors of her home. Her back was still pressed into the cold steel door, using what was left of her to stand to her feet and lock it, sliding the chain lock as well just to make sure there would be no chance of anyone disrupting her decent into the void of pain.

She didn’t get much sleep that night, her head wouldn’t stop pounding and her thoughts never eased up. She’d gotten a text from Harry asking where she was, her only sending a simple message saying she was feeling poorly and went home in reply.

Harry left her on read.

It must have been many hours since the sun had rose then set again in the time she’d laid still between her covers. She hadn’t gotten up to use the bathroom or eat. She didn’t feel like a person anymore. She didn’t feel like she held any worth in any sense to anyone, seeing as no one had reached out for her in the hours she’d been MIA, not even the boy who supposedly loved her.

Y/n shifted her gaze to the clock on her nightstand, she then knew it was Sunday. It had been almost an entire 48 hours since she’d moved from her spot and by now she was sure Harry had been balls deep in numerous other women. Women who could give him everything she failed to, women who he desired and could get off with. They must be everything she’s convinced she’s not. Pretty, sexy, desirable, loveable, worthy of Harry’s intimacy. Something he regretted ever engaging in with his own girlfriend.

 ---

It was 10 in the morning on Monday when Y/n’s phone finally dinged. By Sunday night she had managed to drag herself to the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth, yet she only then returned to her bed to lay in a depressed shame filled coma of sorts, she truly felt so heart broken it was like her body was giving up on her.

She caved and looked at the message, feeling another stomp on her deflated heart when she saw it was from Harry-

“you alright? Stopped by your work, they said you haven’t called out but you never showed?”

Y/n had forgotten about her job in her spiral, but even now she couldn’t bring herself to care. She knew she was already on thin ice with her manager for taking so many days off to see Harry preform or visit him on his breaks so it wasn’t a surprise if she got fired. She didn’t care though; she knew if she lost her job she’d be another month late on rent and end up being evicted since she couldn’t scrape together enough for last month either. This would lead to her likely having to move back home with her mother or find a hostile somewhere for women, yet she didn’t care. It seems silly that something as simple as someone commenting on her sexual skills would put her in such a state, but that’s not really the main focal point in her mind.

The thing that hurt most was knowing Harry had only been with her to get to take someone’s virginity, and she’d disappointed him so badly he talked shit about her to his friends and made plans to cheat on her. Harry had completely disrespected, objectified and crushed her, and he didn’t even know she knew but she decided he shouldn’t have to know she knew what he said for him to realize it’s wrong. He’s an adult man who knew full well how hurtful and horrid his comments were about someone he had claimed to love. He should have spoke to her if he felt that way, yet instead he played her and tossed her out like rubbish.

Harry broke her heart, one he’d known was already fragile and timid. He’d still said all those nasty things about her even after the nights he’d let her cry into her chest about how much she hated her body, how bad her self-image and confidence was, the way she felt like she was never good enough for anyone. His actions only confirmed what she’d always feared to be true.

Harry didn’t love her.

[babypinkhearts]

ive never requested anything so i dont know how to do this but hi!! i was wondering if youd be able to write something sweet with shaiapouf & reader? only if you want to!!! i never see anything with him

THIS IS LONGGGG OVER-DUE, I’M SO SORRY <333

i finally had time to write this though! it’s a bit more angsty than i first imagined, but hopefully this is satisfying enough? :)

i also got your other message!

pairing: shaiapouf + reader

warnings: slight mention of blood!

you despised that you couldn’t find it in your heart to hate him.

how dare he gracefully flutter without a care in the world?

how dare he waltz in and greet you so casually?

you’re shaken in the spot you’ve been in for the past hour.

you know he’s there- but you can’t find the courage to raise your head and look.

after what you just saw-

how is he so... unfazed?

you feel your heart sink.

is it possible for someone to be so cruel?

“y/n.”

he curtly calls, standing beside the doorframe.

he’s locked it - not giving you a chance to flee.

you shake your head in response.

the images of red come flashing through your brain. your body unwillingly beginning to shake once more.

it’s pure instinct. you hug your knees tighter to your chest.

the clicking of footsteps along the tile floor echoes throughout the room.

for whatever higher power is out there - you beg them to make everything stop.

as the footsteps halt right in front of you, you realize your pleas had been unheard.

you feel your breath hitch in your throat.

run, your mind tells you.

run.

run!

you stay still.

what can you do?

you didn’t know what he was capable up.

with as much courage as you could muster, you raise your voice as loud as you can.

“b-back up, please.”

it comes out pathetically weak.

one more word and you might’ve started bawling.

soon after you speak, you hear him come even closer.

he’s ignored your wishes.

you can’t do anything about it.

your body tenses.

a hand touches your shoulder.

it’s mocking a gentle feeling - the undertones clearly disguised in some malicious manner.

“you seem troubled.”

you almost scoff.

that word was incomparable to your distress.

it seemed like an action of manipulation - diling down the situation to make it seem like you were overreacting.

instead, you take a shaky breath and weakly mumble.

“pitou killed that man.”

it’s quiet.

his silence disturbs you further.

he can’t lie and say it didn’t happen - you were there to witness it with your own eyes.

instead, you sense him move to sit down beside you.

the glow of his wings hit the side of your face, illuminating the dark room.

you scoot a few inches away.

having him so close to you didn’t feel safe anymore.

shaiapouf’s eyes were directed at the floor.

the tension is unbearable.

there were no escapes.

you had no other option than to sit and await your fate.

“pitou will not hurt you.”

you tense on the spot.

at the mention of the ant’s name, you’re reminded of the gruesome scene once more.

“we’ve settled with an agreement.”

his words are too vague for your liking.

he seems to sense your trouble, peering at you from the side of his eye.

“i won’t kill the girl that the king is fond of, and pitou will not kill you.”

kill.

he speaks of it so casually.

the morality is dangerously vacant.

with a ghost of a breath, you whisper.

“you’re not going to kill me either?”

shaiapouf gapes at you in shock.

he’s taken aback by your words, immediately shaking his head and standing up in front of you.

“no- of course not! i wouldn’t think of such a thing.”

as you lift your head, you expect his eyes to look hollow and emotionless.

though much to your surprise, they were wide and filled with truth.

shaiapouf takes a step closer to you.

it feels less menacing than before.

“i won’t let anyone harm you.”

he claims this proudly.

he claims this confidently.

he claims this as a promise.

blinking slowly, you gulp.

he’s being honest.

your intuition told you so.

no one could fake that much emotion.

it just wasn’t possible.

pursing your lips, you stare at him.

“i can hold you to that?”

you’ve found volume in your voice.

you had stopped shaking.

your tears halted.

he’s not against you.

it’s the important part.

shaiapouf stares at you for a few seconds.

you find it hard to maintain eye-contact with his gaze, instead, opting to look at the ground as you await his next move.

ultimately, he crouches down in front of you.

you don’t back up this time.

“human,”

the feeling of his hand resting upon your cheek should be terrifying.

yet, it feels comforting.

he seems ten times more gentle.

you can’t make out where the sudden change came from.

slowly, he tilts your head to meet his eyes.

you look at him a curious stare, wondering what was going through his head.

he seemed to be observing you, as strange as it sounded.

the retreatment of his hand leaves your skin feeling cold.

with a hint of a smile, shaiapouf nods.

“i swear on my life.”

[strayingdawn]

request: “...something like little bit angsty but fluff at the end? Something how y/n was getting back late at night and someone follows them and they call boyfriend Changbin?”

warning: feeling unsafe, stalking

wc: 2,2k

(i got a little carried away,, so sorry.)

—————

Only the ticks of the store clock echo throughout the empty cafe as Y/n slides their damp cloth across the counter. One of the girls scheduled to close today called in sick, so Y/n figured the extra money wouldn’t hurt and filled in for her. However, they did not expect to end the day all alone after the remaining, scheduled closer left early due to a family emergency.

So here they were, cleaning the counters of the deserted cafe, five minutes till closing. Y/n honestly didn’t mind closing alone. The aroma of coffee beans and the calm silence surrounding them felt almost comforting in a way. The clock created a soothing rhythm as the nearing end of a long day at work gave them a sense of relief.

But that moment was short-lived as the front door’s bell cut through the tranquil atmosphere. A young man of tall stature wandered through the door, much to Y/n’s displeasure if they were being honest. The man was actually quite a regular to the cafe. With that being said, surely he would know the cafe’s hours by now since he has passed the door on which they’re displayed many times. He was around Y/N’s age and had burgundy brown hair with bangs that always hung forward, creating a shadow over his deep, brown eyes. He usually just ordered a simple pastry and sat in some corner at the back, reading a book, phone, or computer. None of his behavior ever seemed unusual or noteworthy, so Y/n never concerned themselves with being any more cautious than they usually are around strangers. That is until one of their coworkers pointed out that the man’s gaze seemed to linger on Y/n often. It wasn’t too unusual for people’s eyes to wander around their surroundings and occasionally get stuck on something or someone. Y/n was guilty of it themselves sometimes, but that thought didn’t hinder them from raising their guard still.

Back to the present, Y/n simply planned to tell the man that they could no longer run the coffee machines nor were there any more pastries to sell and give him a short and sweet apology. However, the sound of his voice put a slight wrench in those plans.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you already closed?” His eyebrows were raised to create a somewhat innocent look.

Well, the place is empty, chairs are on tables, and the sign on the door you just walked through says we close in four minutes. What do you think?

That’s what Y/n wanted to say, but they held their tongue for the sake of politeness and professionalism. Instead, their lips formed a kind smile as they said, “Well, we’re technically still open for a couple of minutes, but I’m sorry to say that I can no longer sell anything.”

They hoped that was enough to urge the brunette out the door and back onto the street lamp-littered sidewalk. The man in question, however, was not on the same page. He began to shift his weight from one foot to the other as his gaze scanned the whole room, seeming to investigate every corner as if he was searching for something.

“Are they making you close all alone, tonight?”

Now, why would he ask something like that. Y/n was honestly caught off guard by such an unnecessary question; one whose truth they felt should not be openly exclaimed. They had to think quickly, so they just had to bend the truth a little.

“Not exactly. One of my coworkers had to leave unexpectedly..but they’ll be back.”

No one made them work extra; Y/n simply offered their help. Their friend did, also, leave unexpectedly and would be back...tomorrow morning to report for work. The stranger’s brows furrowed as his eyes became unfocused in thought. What he was thinking, Y/n couldn’t decipher.

“...I see..would you like some company while you wait?” He raised his eyebrows with slight optimism, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly.

Now, the man was clearly dragging out this interaction far longer than it needed to be. Four minutes had definitely passed, so he had no reason to be here anymore.

“No, no, that’s fine. Thank you, though. The cafe’s officially closed, now, actually. So I’ll be out of here in no time. And my boyfriend will be here any minute, now.” Y/n wore the most genuine smile they could muster, positive that they left no room for the customer to object to leaving.

His eyebrows twitched, and he appeared slightly taken aback when the word “boyfriend” left Y/n’s lips. However, the look left as soon as it came, leaving his usual resting face, lost in thought.

“Oh, okay then,” he flashed a full smile this time, showing his top row of pearly white teeth. Then, he turned his body with slight hesitation, footsteps pointing to the door, “I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he finally left. There wasn’t anything inherently creepy about his last statement, but with context, his wording and tone was somewhat off putting. The city was pretty big, and their paths would most likely only ever cross in the cafe. So why would he say “around.”

Anyway, it wasn’t the only weird thing he had done, so it was time to move on to more pressing matters. Changbin should have been here by now. Y/n didn’t bend the truth, that time, when they mentioned their boyfriend’s approaching arrival.

Y/n opened their phone and went to Changbin’s contact. They texted each other three hours ago about Y/n’s sudden overtime, and Changbin was fully aware that he would pick them up. So where was he? Y/n called him twice, both with no answer, before simply leaving a text that they were on their way home. The walk home was roughly ten minutes. Y/n loved it after early shifts but usually tried to catch a ride if the sun had already set, like tonight.

Dreading the extra cardio after a long, tiring day, Y/n just gathered their belongings, double-checked their closing duties, and lastly locked the cafe’s door, mentally prepared themselves for the journey ahead of them. Only a few steps in, they noticed another set of footsteps echo theirs. Changing the rhythm of their footfalls, the rhythm of the mysterious set of steps changed as well, falling in sync. Subconsciously, Y/n brought their hand towards their bag which held protective measures such as a taser and pepper spray. Yet, all of their movements, including their breathing, abruptly halted as a familiar voice called out to them.

“Y/n!”

Y/n slowly turned around, meeting the same brown eyes they saw just moments ago. At this point, Y/n was completely unsettled, but they refused to let it show.

“Hi..again. What are you..still doing out here..this late?”

“I never saw your boyfriend,” he paused for less than a millisecond, but Y/n could still sense that he was questioning their earlier statement, “get here, so I wanted to make sure you left safely.”

He had to have been waiting for at least ten minutes. And for an employee they’ve barely talked to, who already said they were taken care of.

“Well, that’s..very thoughtful of you, but you don’t have to worry about me anymore,” Y/n let out a little chuckle that also sounded much more stiff than intended and held their hands out to their sides like they were presenting themselves, “I seem to be leaving in one piece, so I think I’ve got it from here.”

He didn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he was simply ignoring their words as he took a step forward, causing Y/n to instinctively take a step back.

He pressed on, however, clearly not sensing your discomfort. “I’m not sure I would have peace of mind not knowing whether or not you got home safely.”

“Trust me, it’s fine-”

“I insist-”

“They said, ‘it’s fine.’” Changbin’s voice boomed past your ears.

He had lost track of time while preparing something special for you at home. On top of that, his music was blasting at extreme volumes, surely becoming a nuisance to the neighbors, which caused him to miss both of Y/n’s phone calls. Although, he’s thankful he remembered his commitment with you when he did. He threw the first coat and pair of shoes he could find before, basically, running through his door, almost unhinging it, to get to his partner as soon as possible. Now, he saw Y/n’s rigid form and some random stranger who, clearly, could not take a hint.

Changbin walked towards Y/n and gingerly slipped his hand around their waist, feeling them slowly relax as they leaned farther into his body and gained a steady breathing pattern. His glare was cold as well as neutral and aimed right at the man in front of him.

“I believe I can take it from here.”

The brunette was slightly unnerved but quickly attempted to put on a strong front. “And who are you?”

“Their boyfriend. Now step away before I become their bodyguard and make you.” If it wasn’t already cold outside, the icy aura radiating off of Changbin would have surely done the job.

The creep was definitely weighing his options. However, facing Changbin did not seem to end in his favor, so he took one step back, placing his eyes on Y/n. “...See you around, Y/n.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it.” Changbin’s eyes never wavered.

With one last glare at Changbin, Y/n’s nuisance for the night finally walked away. As if a weight was lifted off of their chest, Y/n let out a deep breath they didn’t even know they were holding. Regaining their composure, their gaze drifted towards their boyfriend who was still eyeing the fleeing brunette. Y/n promptly hit him on the chest.

“Where were you?” Y/n hit his chest, catching him off guard but not actually hurting him.

Changbin let out a grunt at the sudden assault. “I..got a little caught up with something. Something important.”

“And you couldn’t answer the phone?”

“Wel-“

Y/n was honestly too tired to be reasonable right now, so they just let out a deep sigh and began to walk towards the couple’s shared apartment, expecting their boyfriend to follow.

Around ten minutes later, Changbin was a fumbling mess as he tried to promptly open the apartment’s front door under the pressure of Y/n’s tired stare. When the door finally opened, it presented nothing but a dark, silent home.

Y/n walked in before Changbin and immediately dropped their bag which felt heavier than when they left that morning. However, when they started to step into their second house shoe, they froze after the delicious smell of food drifted from the kitchen to their nose. Changbin noticed Y/n’s sudden stop, and a flash of realization grazed his features.

“What’s that smell-” a pair of hands being gently placed on Y/n’s shoulders halted their sentence.

“Just..walk towards the kitchen,” Changbin instructed them with a soft, low voice.

“How am I supposed to walk there in the dark.”

“It’s not like you’ve never done it before in the middle of the night.”

Changbin’s tone was slightly accusing but still soft like before. Y/n just remained silent and followed his directions. Once they both arrived at the kitchen’s entrance, Y/n felt the weight of Changbin’s hands leave and heard his footsteps approach the lights.

As soon as Y/n’s sight recovered from the sudden intensity of light, they were engulfed in shock and appreciation. The kitchen table was covered with flowers and many of their favorite dishes. Fairy lights hanging all around radiated a soft glow, making the heartwarming gesture warm their heart even more.

“Is this what…?”

“..was so important? ..Yeah. I knew you must have been really tired from working nonstop this past week and the whole day, today. So I thought this was the least I could for you since you’ve been doing so much for everyone else...do you like it?”

“...Like it. I-I love it! Thank you!” Y/n couldn’t say much more before they felt the tears pricking their eyes.

“Wait- why are you crying?!” Changbin rushed to his love’s side and embraced them while panicking because of their unexpected reaction. “Are you sure you actually love it?”

Y/n let out a few broken chuckles and weakly punched his chest. “Yes, I’m sure, idiot! I’m just too tired to handle all this!”

“Oh! Thank goodness. I thought I did something wrong.”

“Don’t worry, Binnie. You always make it right. Thank you. For tonight. And for everything.”

“Anytime, babe.” He gave a sly wink with the little pet name but quickly put on a serious face and looked deep into Y/n’s eyes. “I love you”

Y/n couldn’t help roll their eyes at the term of endearment but didn’t fail to return the meaningful words. “I love you, too.”

“Well, let’s dry these tears,” he tenderly wiped away the few tears that escaped Y/N’s eyes, “and get you out of these uncomfortable clothes.”