#You did all this stuff to hurt me and you’re mean and evil

[osddid-i-do-that]

It’s always valid for you to feel your feelings. You can’t control what feelings you have or how intensely they hit.

However, this does not mean that:

They are always proportionate to the reality of the situation

that any way you express them to others will (or even MUST) be taken well

or that other people must do things in a way that avoids you feeling like that

Feelings can be a result of previous trauma, reality distortion/alteration (memory issues, amnesia, confabulation, delusions…), RSD (or any other condition that makes you more sensitive than the average person), being in a difficult emotional state, difficulty reading or conveying tone/body language, or a regular misunderstanding.

Do:

Respect your feelings!

Acknowledge your feelings!

Investigate and talk through your feelings with someone you trust! (Venting is healthy!)

Don’t immediately treat your feelings as an absolute metric for every situation!

[ranhaitanisgf]

Helloo!!! could you write a oneshot about ran dating fem!reader and she is like a total good girl i mean like good grades, a teachers pet and always listents to her parents.

Hope you have a good day you are one of my favourite writers<3<3

little miss rule follower

synopsis: moments w/ ran dating his fem!reader who is a rule follower

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ hiii thank you for requesting!! :3 +thank you for the message you are so sweet !! im so glad you enjoy my writings :D i wanted to include a lot of diff moments w this idea, so i did a little collection of mini oneshots, i hope thats alright ! i hope you all have an amazing and gorgeous and fabulous day & enjoy !! xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ ran haitani x fem!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 1.8k+

masterlist

“y’know, it would’ve been a lot faster if i’d just driven you home, right?” ran suddenly asked, his voice laced with playfulness. “is it just that you want to spend more time with me~?” 

“hm? you know i’m not going to show up at home on the back of a motorbike, ran.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, jokingly trying to pull your hand from his. he frowned at the action, lacing your fingers together and keeping your hand in a firmer grip. 

“you don’t want to be close to me? you don’t want to be able to hold me all you want? maybe even feel my abs-?” 

“no.” 

“...ouch. that one really hurt, sweets.” you giggled at his crestfallen expression, finding it rather cute as he pouted, side eyeing you to see your reaction. his jaw dropped dramatically when he saw your face. “you’re laughing?! wow, this really is a cruel world!” 

“yeah yeah, the world is sooo evil to you, right?” you teased, your sarcasm evident as you laughed at him. 

“yes, it really is!” he exclaimed, letting go of your hand and suddenly wrapping his long arms around your shoulders, putting his full weight on you. “(y/n), you understand, right?!”

“gah! r-ran! get offa me, you’re so heavy!!” you groaned, struggling to hold the both of you up at the same time. “i was joking!! of course i want to…ahh, of course i want to be close with you!!” as soon as those words came out of your mouth, he got off of you, smirking at you with a pleased look in his violet eyes. 

“that’s all i wanted to hear~” he stated, continuing your walk home as if he hadn’t been laying all his weight on you two seconds ago. all you could do was roll your eyes at him, but your smile was still on your face as the two of you continued walking, ran’s hand finding yours again and lacing your fingers together. 

“also…” you suddenly spoke up, “i know it takes longer to get home this way…but i get to spend more time with you…” you trailed off, feeling a bit shy about what you had just admitted. “i mean, i don’t want to be greedy or anything, but it’s nice that we can spend this time just the two of us, since you’re usually pretty busy with your…stuff, and i’m busy with school...” 

when you looked to ran after you finished talking, you were surprised to see the soft smile that was across his lips, his eyes looking at you as if you were the only person on the planet. 

“you can be as greedy as you want, (y/n). hell, i’m probably more greedy than you’ll ever be in your whole lifetime.” he squeezed your hand a bit, pulling you a bit closer to his side as you two kept walking. “if you tell me you want more of my time, i’ll drop anything and everything for you. so, just tell me.” 

“...okay then.” you answered warmly, smiling at him. “also, walk a little slower. your strides are so long it’s hard to keep up with you.” 

“hm? i’m already slowing down for you.” 

“yeah, well, walk slower.” 

“oho, you were serious about wanting to spend more time with me, huh? no problem then, doll~” 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“c’monnn, you know nothing would happen to you, right? i wouldn’t ever let anybody hurt you, (y/n).” 

“i’m not sneaking out to go out with you, ran! we have school tomorrow! why can’t we just do something after school?” you asked, already knowing what ran’s response was going to be. 

“that’s no fun!”

“ohh, so you don’t have fun with me when we go out during the day? wooow, i see how it is, haitani.” you answered, making your voice seem upset. ran was always teasing you, so you could do the same every once in a while, right?

“hey, you know that’s not what i meant.” 

“pff, ‘m joking.” you relented, laughing a bit at the sigh you heard from the speaker on your phone. “sorryyy, forgive me please~?” 

“that was a mean little trick, but i’ll forgive you ‘cause you asked so nicely. you seriously won’t even consider it though?” 

“no! i love you ran, but i also enjoy not being in trouble and i enjoy not breaking the rules. i know you’re not like that, which is fine, but you’ll just have to get over the fact that your girlfriend is unfortunately a stick in the mud.” 

“well, i prefer to use the term ‘good girl’ ‘cause it’s cuter, but it’s okay, i can let it slide. can we go out after school, then?”

“that depends…are you actually going to show up to classes tomorrow?” 

“hey, that hurts! i’ve been showing up to school a lot more lately!”

“and then all you do is pass me notes instead of taking notes.” 

“in my defense, you just said show up, not to actually do anything.”

“please?” 

“...fine, but you’re riding on my motorbike when we go out.”

“as long as you don’t drive me to my house, that’s fine i guess…” 

“don’t worry, you can hold onto me as tight as you want~”

“h-hey!!” 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

you look so beautiful today ♡ can’t wait to see you after school~

you immediately folded up the piece of paper, shifting your notebook to slip it underneath so that nobody could see it. you could already feel ran’s gaze on you, confirming it when you peeked over and made eye contact with his lazy violet eyes, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile. 

you looked back to your teacher in the front of the classroom who was droning on and clearly not paying attention, so you decided it was okay to not pay attention for a little longer. you looked back at ran, who was now making a little finger heart at you and mouthing something. 

“i…love…you.” 

your heart skipped a beat and you could feel your cheeks flushing, which only made ran chuckle a bit as you continued with paying attention to the lesson, (he was satisfied knowing that he had successfully distracted you). 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“(l/n), can you make copies of this printout for tomorrow’s class?” 

“sure!” you chirped, taking the handout from your teacher and glancing over it. “i’ll leave them on your desk when i come back!” 

“thanks, i appreciate it.” you hummed in acknowledgment before leaving the classroom, making your way down to the printer room where the copier was. 

“where’re you goin’~?” the sudden voice in your ear made you jump, though you didn’t do anything more drastic since you recognized it almost immediately, your mind suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be going out with ran right now. 

“ran! ahh, i’m so sorry, just let me do this and then we can go?” he joined you at your side, looking into your pleading eyes for a second before sighing, a bit of a frown on his lips. 

“fiiine, but let’s make it quick. i found a sweets place i think you’d like.” you raised a brow when he continued to follow you to the printer room and he raised a brow back, wondering why you were confused. “you thought i was just gonna leave?” 

“i mean, yeah…this won’t take that long and it’s kinda boring.” 

“sure, but i’m with you, so it doesn’t really matter to me either way.” he responded casually, opening the door to the printer room now that the two of you had arrived. 

“you’re such an idiot, but you’re cute i guess.” you murmured, unsure of how to respond to his words. 

“here’s the part where i get to say, ‘but i’m your idiot’~” you only rolled your eyes, opening the top of the copier and laying the worksheet down flat and closing it. you could feel ran’s presence behind you getting closer, so you weren’t surprised when he rested his head on your shoulder, watching your movements as you input the number of copies to make. 

as the copier began to print out the copies, ran slid his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against his frame. there wasn’t anybody else in the room nor any windows, but you were still a bit anxious that somebody was going to come in and get the wrong idea. 

“ran, someone could walk in.” 

“what? i’m not even doing anything.” he teased, pressing kisses on your shoulder.

“this-! this is something! it’s like super pda!” 

“it’s not like we’re having sex-” 

“okay, stop!! forget i even said anything!!” you interrupted, wiggling out of his embrace to open the top of the copier, grabbing the worksheet you had put there and putting it on top of the stack of copies. “i’m almost done here, so go wait for me outside and i’ll be out in five minutes. bye!” 

before ran could say anything to response you had already sped out of the room, leaving him there chuckling a bit to himself. 

how cute. 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“i’m actually not so sure about this anymore.” 

“hm? are you scared?” ran asked. you had thought that it would be worth it to agree to go on his motorbike if he came to class today, but now…you weren’t so sure. 

“are you sure this is safe? there aren't even any seatbelts…!” 

“you don’t trust me, doll?” 

“it’s not you i’m worried about!” you exclaimed, feeling a bit panicked. “what if there’s someone else who’s driving drunk and they hit you! a motorbike versus a car, the car would definitely win! how can you feel so confident riding this thing all the time?! what if something happens to you-?!” 

“hey.” ran suddenly said, taking two long strides to come face to face with you. “it’s okay.” he murmured, cupping your face and carefully smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “nothing has ever happened because i’m always careful. i’m always thinking of you, (y/n). i would never do anything that would threaten my own safety because i know how you would feel if something happened. okay?” 

“...you’re not lying?” 

“could never lie to you.” 

“...okay.” 

“how ‘bout we go get some cake for you, hm?” you nodded, wiping away the tears you hadn’t known you’d shed and feeling a bit ashamed at your sudden outburst over seemingly nothing. 

“‘m sorry.”

“don’t be. i probably give you every reason to worry, so you can let it all out.” 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“you feelin’ better now?” ran asked, an amused smile on his face as he watched you absolutely devour the slice of cake in front of you. you tried to respond but couldn’t, your cheeks full of cake. ran made a motion that told you to finish before speaking, giving you a few moments to finish chewing. 

“yes! sweets fix everything!!” you declared, a big grin on your face. “see, if we had gone out at night this place wouldn’t be open!! isn’t this so much better?” 

“mm, doesn’t really matter to me. as long as you keep smiling like that, pretty~” you coughed at his sudden flirty words, accepting the cup of juice ran offered you and chugging it to get the cake that was stuck in your throat down. 

“s-sorry…” 

“hah, it’s cute how much my words affect you.” 

“shut up.” 

“will do~”

[star-girl69]

Your Girl

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: late at night, you and clarisse get to know one another.

a/n: ykw i dont even know what i write anymore just enjoy it i truly just listen to the wind oh my god

Your Girl - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: im sorry im obsessed w the nightmare trope, friends to lovers MEYOW, HURT COMFORT, clarisse just wants to KISS, light tension, very light and fluffy tho…. not a lot of angst tbh, POSSESSIVE CLARISSE I SCREAMED, mutual pining YESSSSS, they’re in love but they don’t think the other could be in love w them, clarisse knows what she wants and sets out to get it, monsters- again it’s a drakon bc i’m evil, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of weapons, weed and smoking, substance abuse idk if it’s addiction my health teacher would be so disappointed, shotgunning weed, idk what’s happening honestly we’re all along for the ride, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You don’t know where Clarisse gets it from, but she has good weed.

They’re these perfectly little rolled blunts, with some sort of amazing concoction inside- you can’t even be bothered to care that it’s bad for you. Not when it makes you feel so good, not when it makes everything else fade away.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Sitting in the woods, leaning against a rock covered in moss, staring up at the stars. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you’re just here next to each other. But tonight, you think you took one too many hits, so you’re feeling a little sentimental.

“I would fucking die without you, Clarisse.”

She snorts. “Yeah, probably.”

“No, no, not just like- because you’re so strong, and stuff, but because of this fucking weed. I can’t sleep without it, y’know.”

She hums.

“And, like, you need sleep to live, or else your brain will like eat itself, or something ridiculous. Did you know that?”

She looks at you, mouth curved into an unimpressed smile, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t, and I care so much. Thanks for telling me, leech.”

“That’s mean,” you huff.

“Then stop leeching off of me and stealing my weed.”

Clarisse always looks so pretty in the moonlight. You would never admit that to anyone, but in the dark when your head is all hazy- you know she’s pretty. She’s beautiful, if you’re being honest, but she’s also your dealer- you can’t risk upsetting her. But still, sometimes you’re not sure how she isn’t a daughter of Aphrodite.

But you know better than anyone else that she gets everything from Ares, like she’s a carbon copy of him.

She gets her precision, her strength, her tactical mind, her rolling storm of emotions from him.

Except, there’s a softness in her. Only here, in the moonlight. You don’t know if it’s you or the weed, but you like to think it’s you. You like to think that Clarisse likes you as much as you like her, not just tolerates you for your mediocre company.

She’s sitting with one foot planted onto the ground, hair pulled back all messy, her arm balancing on her knee. The joint is held out conveniently towards you, lazily in between her fingers, so you flip yourself onto your stomach and reach out with open lips.

She smiles and flips the joint around, placing it onto your lips. Your close your eyes and your mouth, breathing in deeply. Gods, does it taste horrible, but you love it too much.

You pull back and breathe out the smoke.

“You love me, and my weed-stealing tendencies.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” she rolls her eyes.

—-

Clarisse probably trains more than any other demigod at camp. Thirty minutes after dinner, like clockwork, you can find her heading to the field where all the sparring dummies live.

Clarisse is probably your only true friend at camp. You stick to yourself for the most part, hang out with your siblings, but besides for that it’s Clarisse. And she’s the same way. She hangs out with her siblings, and then you. Of course- everyone at Camp knows her name and her ruthless reputation.

You’re unknown, she’s known. She’s the best fighter you’ve ever seen, you’re mediocre, compared to her. She helps you at every turn, you’re the one getting helped by her. She’s mean to everyone, and you’re kind to whoever happens upon you.

You force each other to bring out the other sides of yourself no one gets to see. Clarisse gets to be soft, you get to be loud and annoying. You’re friends, but you both get something out of it.

She’s your friend, your dealer, your savior.

If the first day you came to camp, running through the woods with a drakon hot on your heels and your mouth split open into a scream- maybe Clarisse and her siblings wouldn’t have turned around and noticed the drakon.

Of course, Clarisse was the one who actually killed it, and she was the one who hoisted you up from where you had collapsed, breathing heavily. She was the one who actually made sure you weren’t hurt while your satyr protector panicked about having to face the Cloven Council.

She was the one who found you in the middle of the night, that drakon hissing in your ear, she was the one who gave you the claw she had pried from it’s dead body, she was the one who told you it was dead and nothing could hurt you in Camp.

“Clarisse!” you call, running towards her. Most campers like to wind down after dinner, so the field is empty.

“Leech,” she says when you reach her, leaning her spear against a dummy and stretching her arms above her head.

You always come everyday. You ask her the same question.

“Do you have it?”

She digs under her armor, pulling out the small cloth containing the blunt. “You would probably go insane if I didn’t.”

You feel calmer just looking at it. You smile sheepishly up at her.

“You know I can’t sleep without it, Clarisse.”

She looks away, stuffing it back under her armor, against her stomach.

“Maybe you should try and skip one night.”

You scoff. “I don’t feel like pulling an all-nighter, Clarisse.”

She nods, but her face is riddled with concern. “Okay, angel,” she mutters, so low you can barely hear it. But you do. You hear her call you angel, and you turn away instead of slamming your lips into hers.

—-

After that first night, you slept with that claw tight into your hand. And it was fine. You still had the occasional nightmare, but every demigod had those. But the older you got, the more monsters you learned about, the more comfortable you got with being a demigod- the more the nightmares came. Knowing the drakon was dead didn’t help, and the nightmares got worse and worse until Clarisse found you again one night.

You had drifted apart from her. She had her life and you had hers, but ever since you’ve been bonded by the nights.

She wrapped her arms around you and let you cry, mumbling about how she was the strongest demigod at camp, and there was the barrier, and nothing would ever get through to you.

She was soft in that moment. And you could tell she regretted it, because she ignored you for the next few days until one of her siblings pushed you to the ground. She appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his shirt, yelling that if he ever touched you again, she’d fucking kill him.

While he sputtered and asked why she cared about some stupid weak girl, she helped you up and said: “She’s my girl.”

And since that day 3 months ago, you’ve always been her girl. Neither of you really knew what that meant, except you liked being around each other and you liked this transaction. Clarisse liked owning something. You liked belonging to someone.

That’s what this entire friendship is about- convenience.

So, that’s why Clarisse being concerned about you makes you feel weird. You care about Clarisse, she cares about you- but only enough that she doesn’t want to see you hurt by someone else. But who is she to stop you when you’re the one hurting yourself?

You arrive at the rock in the forest, fingers twisting together. Clarisse is already there, lighter and blunt set out on the ground, polishing her spear.

“Hey,” she says, looking down.

“Hi.”

You sit down, eager to get your hands on the weed and forget about the way Clarisse’s concern confuses you.

You stare at your shaking hand.

Gods, are you really that nervous?

Clarisse’s eyes are sharp, she notices everything, she processes it much faster than you can ever dream to. It’s why she’s so quick in battle. She’s a well oiled machine and you’re the one job she’s assigned to do- she knows you by heart after all these nights.

Her spear is pushed off her lap. “Why are you shaking?” she says, voice low and raspy, her hand cupping yours.

“Low blood sugar,” you lie. “I’ll grab a snack before I go to bed.”

She says nothing, but you watch her hesitate as she grabs the blunt and the lighter from the ground, you watch her hesitate again as she goes to light it. But she lights it, she sticks it in between her fingers and holds it out to you.

“C’mere,” she mutters, and you lean forward and let her place the blunt on your parted lips. You breathe in, only for a few seconds, and you could go for a lot longer.

“I wasn’t done,” you huff as she takes her own drag.

“My weed,” she shrugs. “I decide how much you get.”

“You’re a bitch.”

She laughs. She laughs and it makes your stomach twist in such a good way you can’t feel like this anymore, you can’t remember what she does to you, what she called you.

You reach out blindly for the blunt, biting your lip as you practically climb on top of her.

“Clarisse!” you yell, but she seems to find your desperation hilarious, holding the blunt out as far as she can. “I fucking hate you, oh my Gods.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” she says, pushing you off of her. You realize you’re laying on your stomach in between her legs, one hand planted to the ground around her leg, the other reaching out.

She leans back and takes another drag. You roll your eyes and move to attack her, but she’s too fast, sitting up and holding your hand down, her other hand grabbing your chin. She breathes out the smoke right into your lips that are parted in shock, smiling as you stare right into her amused eyes.

She leans back while you sit there stupidly on top of her, blowing out the smoke. “That- that’s- I hate you, did I mention that?”

“You did,” she muses. “But we both know you’re lying.”

You look at her, at her wide smile, at the look in her eyes. You want nothing more than to be her girl- her girl in the way that she’ll kiss your head, tell you about all the things you’ll never do, she’ll lay down with you in a bed of soft pillows. Her girl in the way the reason she’s soft in the moonlight isn’t the weed, it’s because of you. Her girl in the way you can run to her, the way you do now, but with the added connotation of love.

You grab the joint, and she lets you, watching intently as you breathe in and blow out the smoke. She has no right to be worried over you. Not when you’re the one making the choice to waste away your youth. And especially when you’re not her girl- not in the way you want to be.

—-

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” she hums.

You sit back against the rock. Normally, you would have been here 20 minutes ago.

You didn’t catch her after dinner, and you stayed firmly in your bed until it all got to be too much. You’re terrified of sleeping, of the nightmares that will come- but for some reason, the weed just puts you at such ease that you don’t have any nightmares.

You didn’t want to be near Clarisse tonight. Not after yesterday, not after the way she’s been making you feel, and the fact that you know she could never really like you. Why would she? You are the stupid weak girl who gets pushed over. You run from drakon’s and can’t even sleep because of nightmares.

Clarisse is fiercely protective of those she loves, but you’re too much work.

You wanted to go one night. One night without the weed, and prove to her and yourself that you don’t need it. You’re not that weak.

But you couldn’t.

You sit down, she looks at your tense shoulders and doesn’t tease you, just hands you the blunt. You mumble something of a thank you, looking up at the stars, shoulders relaxing after a few more breaths.

“I, uh, I tried to skip. Tonight, I mean. I tried not to come.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You’re so scared of the nightmares that even if it’s a placebo effect, you come back to this clearing every night.

“But you couldn’t?” she asks.

“I couldn’t,” you affirm, staring at the ground.

“Well, you can’t just go cold turkey, dummy. You have to wean yourself off of it. Do you not remember, like, any of those nicotine patch ads?” she laughs. “You’ve got a good memory, you remember.”

“Shut up, meanie,” you mumble, raising the joint to your lips. She stops you.

“Ah-ah. Starts now. Make it a good one, ‘cause that’s your last, baby.”

“Fine,” you mumble, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You breathe in for a long time, tempted to go a little longer, but Clarisse reaches over and pinches your cheek. “Okay!” you yell, throwing the joint back to her.

She laughs and raises it to her own lips, taking in another long drag before putting it out.

You look at her, silent question in the air. She shrugs.

“Been meaning to slow down for a while, why not do it together?”

“Yeah,” you hum, looking back towards the stars. “Oh, hey, Ares is out tonight.” She looks over.

“Yeah,” she muses. “Fuckin’ Ares.”

“It’s still beautiful,” you say, stars in your eyes. “You have to think about it the way mortals do. They don’t know the Gods put them up there- they think it’s just some random spotting of stars, they think they made patterns out of it. Isn’t that beautiful? To make patterns and people out of stars? To look for humanity where there is none?”

“I never thought about it like that,” Clarisse says.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” you ask. You can feel her eyes on you.

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Beautiful.”

—-

The next two weeks goes by the same. You don’t catch Clarisse after dinner, but you come every night, you smoke a little less, she teases you and gets closer to you. She gets bolder and bolder and you get shyer and shyer.

You still feel like too much. If she just lets you prove this to her and to yourself, the maybe you can lean against the rock with her and flirt back.

—-

You meet Clarisse by the rock. She’s still standing, waiting for you. She takes the last of the blunt you’ve been using for the last few days and lights it, taking one small drag before she flips it around and holds it out to you.

“C’mon,” she guides. “Not too much, I’ll stop you.”

You feel kind of like a baby as Clarisse puts the joint on her lips, fingertips against your face to steady her hand. You breathe in for just a second, tempted for more, but she takes it away. You look up at her, fingers twisted together.

“Clarisse, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

She leaves the blunt to blow out in the wind in the natural dip of the rock, your own little ashtray at the top. Of course, Clarisse will come and collect it the next morning- you don’t want to upset the nymphs and satyrs in the forest.

“It’s a good idea,” she affirms. “Don’t worry, okay?”

You’re scared. You remember being chased by the drakon even now, you remember it’s snarls, you remember it’s claws moving through the air. You remember your heart pumping in your ears, you remember the stones in your stomach that were supposed to be fear.

You feel like Kronos, but what you swallowed wouldn’t just sit idly inside of you- no, your fear would rip through your stomach and your skin and burst out of you in an explosion of blood, like some sick joke of a firework.

She grabs your wrists. Clarisse is soft, here, in the moonlight.

“Hey, it’s okay. I-I was thinking, I didn’t know if you were gonna be okay, but why don’t you sleep in my cabin?”

You shift on your feet. “Clar, no, I can’t ask you to do that. What if we get caught? And I-I- it’s embarrassing, what if your siblings see? What if they tell everyone?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes and tugs you closer from where you had subconsciously started to drift away.

“They already think we’re dating, anyways. Besides, Y/N, no one cares. Most of my siblings have secrets anyways,” she smiles.

“Wh- we’re dating? They think- why?”

Her face is deadpan. “‘Cause you’re my girl.”

You pull back. “Clarisse.”

“What?” she says, slightly incredulous. “You are. You’re about the only person I can tolerate at this camp. I hope you know that. I know I can be horrible, but really, I… care about you a lot.”

You look in her eyes. There’s no lies, no insincerity.

“I know, Clarisse. And I… I appreciate it so much. You’re, like, my only friend,” you smile.

She smiles back but it’s tight. “Friend, yeah.”

You put your arms around her neck and hug her. It’s the first time you’ve ever really hugged her, and her arms wrap tight around your waist. Her mouth presses against your hair. You let yourself be her girl in this moment.

Clarisse is your best friend. She cares about you. Of course she helps you with this. She’s your best friend. Of course you let her.

—-

You do follow Clarisse back to the Ares cabin, back to her bed- and she points to one of her siblings you can’t see in the dark, but there are two figures in the bed. She smiles and you stifle a laugh.

You know better than anyone else that big bad Ares kids are like a marshmallow on the inside. They act all tough, and they are pretty tough, but there’s a soft spot inside of them only unlocked by one person with the right key.

You notice her sibling has their arm around the other person. You wonder if Clarisse will wrap her arm around you like that too.

Clarisse climbs into her bed, opening the covers for you. The beds at Camp are twin sized, but you can fit two people on them if you’re close together. You don’t hesitate, not anymore, not when you have one chance to pretend you’re really hers.

You lay on your side, facing her, hands tucked up by your chest. Her eyes meet yours, she brushes her curls out of her face.

“Good?” she asks. You nod, breathing out.

“‘M fine,” you say.

She rubs your arm, cold from the dark night. “Just relax, okay? Just close your eyes, Y/N.”

You do, you close your eyes, but you’re so fucking terrified you can’t.

“Clarisse,” you breathe, a plead. For what, you don’t know. You want a million things from her in this moment. It’s not fair of you to ask her, you know this, but it doesn’t stop you from asking.

Your breath comes fast, your nails dig into your palms, but you keep your eyes screwed shut like sleep will just magically hit you like a train.

“It’s okay,” Clarisse says, firm. “Why are you so scared?” she whispers.

“They’re so real,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“They’re not.”

She wraps her arms around you so tight you feel like she’s crushing you. But it keeps you in the moment. If you focus on the way her skin feels against yours, on the way her thumb brushes your shoulder blade, her fingertips scratching the back of your scalp.

If you focus, if you imagine all the thing you and her will never do, if you imagine being her girl, then you can fall asleep.

You dream of her lips pressing against your head, her voice in your ear, calling you her angel.

—-

You wake up, Clarisse still wrapped around you, and slowly detangle yourself. Drool pools at the corner of her lips, and you have to bite back a giggle as you slip out of the blankets and into the warm riding sun.

She looks just as pretty in the sunlight as she does in the moonlight. You feel like a lover slipping out of a bed of secrets. But you’re not. You’re just a friend slipping out of a bed of rumors.

She looks so peaceful, you can’t help but wonder if she always sleeps like this- or if having you next to her had the same effect on her sleep as it did to yours.

—-

There’s a loud knock at your cabin door.

There’s only you and a few of your siblings in here, putting the final touches on their outfits for the day, grabbing the last items they need. One of your younger siblings open the door, and you look around the pillars- maybe it’s a counselor doing some sort of inspection? You take a glance around your bunk- but it’s all clean.

Your eyes meet hers.

“Out,” she says, roughly. She looks at you so intently you almost wonder if she’s talking to you. But when you siblings stand there in shock, she looks away. “Well? I said get out, dummies.”

They exchange looks with you, but eventually shuffle out, not wanting to risk Clarisse and her wrath.

She shuts the door behind your last sibling.

“Being tough has it perks, huh?” she smiles, leaning against the door. Your shirt isn’t even pulled on properly, one of your bra straps is already falling down your shoulder from the act of putting your shirt on, and you’re staring at her with your mouth wide open.

She looks you up and down.

“C-Clarisse, what-?”

She walks over to you, frown etched onto her face.

“I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Oh,” you say. “I… I thought you would have wanted me gone-”

“Don’t care. If you’re going to sleep with me then you need to wake me up and tell me you’re leaving.”

She rolls her eyes at your confusion. She sits on your bed and then gestures animatedly for you to sit down.

“Did you not sleep well?” she fusses. “What’s up with you this morning?”

“I slept great, Clarisse, it’s just- why are you here?”

“To tell you that you can’t leave,” she deadpans. “I mean, you spend all night shaking in my arms, terrified, and then I wake up and you’re not there? I almost killed someone. You’re lucky I decided to check here first, Y/N.”

She laughs. She laughs like it’s so funny.

“Why?” you ask.

“‘Cause you’re my girl,” she shrugs. “And-”

“Clarisse, what does that mean?”

You know what you want. And you’re not dumb, but you’re the only friend Clarisse really has- what did you have to compare it to? You’ve been thinking about it in your head, rolling it around like a diamond- each side reflects something you want from her. Her love, her protection, her touch, her time, her.

She plays with her fingers. “It means… I like touching you. I like protecting you. I like being near you. I like your voice and your face.”

She stares at you blankly, like she’s recounting a grocery list, waiting for an affirmative “yes, I heard you.” But all you can do is stare in shock, trying to make your brain catch up with your heart- Clarisse likes your face. Clarisse feels the same way you do. You can be her girl, and you’re not too much for her, you’re not just friends.

“Oh, fuck it,” she mumbles. She places her hand on your face and pecks your lips. “That’s what it means, okay? I’m, like, embarrassingly in love with you, if you haven’t noticed.”

Clarisse is so blunt and forward it makes your head spin.

She stares into your eyes, searching them for something other than shock and confusion.

“Okay,” she says. Shuffling back. You can tell she’s hurt and embarrassed, but her face reveals nothing other than faux confidence and indifference. “I’ll go, I guess-”

“Bitch,” you mumble, slamming your lips onto hers.

It feels so overwhelmingly right and fills you with such a calmness that weed could never compare to. If you were dependent on the joints, then one taste and you’re addicted to Clarisse. She kisses you back with just as much ferocity, throwing your arms around her neck, trying to swallow you whole with her mouth as she grabs your neck with one hand, your face with the other.

It’s months of tension and wanting, lips touching through the passing of a joint, all of it coming down to this moment that feels so bad, so sinful- surely the Gods must frown upon loving someone this much. You would never pray to any of them again if it meant Clarisse would keep kissing you like this.

When she finally pulls back, you’re both smiling wide, leaning into her palm, hands playing with the curls at the base of her neck. You feel like a giddy school girl. You feel like a lover discovering something wildly new and unknown, promising to keep it secret, sealing it with a kiss of pure fire.

“That was such a mean way to confess to someone,” you say. “Just bitchy. Brass and blunt- harsh, even.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pressing her face against yours.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I know you’re a big softie who drools in her sleep.” She pulls away and glares at you.

“I don’t fucking drool, Y/N. You’re seeing things.”

You fake frown, bringing her closer to you. “Such a horrible thing to say to your girlfriend.”

“My girlfriend?” she breathes, swollen lips parting like she’s aching to kiss you again.

“Your girlfriend,” you affirm, staring straight into her eyes.

You sunk more into becoming a demigod and all it got you was nightmares and a fear of sleeping. But the more you sunk into being her girl, the more you sunk into loving her and being loved.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from. Certainly not from her father. She didn’t learn to kiss your head from him. She didn’t learn how to hold you, how to call you hers, how to whisper in your ear from Ares.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from, but it’s good.

—-

SHOUTOUT TO clarisse “cause you’re my girl” la rue LOVE YOUR POSSESSIVE ASS!!!!!!!!

—-

clarisse when y/n smokes weed: oh so pretty……

clarisse when y/n can only fall asleep bc of her arms or her weed: my girl fr……..

clarisse when y/n: oh my wonderful perfect angel

—-

y/n: BITCH

clarisse: YOURE SO HOT FUCK

—-

where did clarisse get her weed from you may ask? me that’s where she got it from i ripped through the fabric of reality to give it to her to make this happen actually and you’re welcome

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk

[moirasdolly]

hii! Hope your doing well ! Okay so I wanted to make a request that i had in my mind for a little while but..fem reader forbidden love with Arlecchino(sort of) -hear me out🥲

So this could begin with like, the reader being from the orphanage just like Arlecchino back then and like the reader got expelled from it or something realized to the reader being separated from her. And years go on where on a mission (somehow) Arlecchino had too much to drink and had a one night stand with another woman(the reader), Upon the realization and choosing the avoid and forget about the subject, the said subject(reader) stumbles upon the twins and somehow becomes friends with the two meaning the reader eventually gets introduced to Arlecchino and well, it becomes all awkward and stuff since reader could remember sort of glimpses of what had happened and that night.(so sorry, but as I was typing this I had been listening to the song "a little death" by the neighbourhood and got the Idea, but for the rest forgot what else to add so I leave this to you, you don't have to do this if you do not wish to, is just something I had in my mind for a while ♡)

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Language ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟArlecchino x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Detailed in the request !!

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), hurt and comfort, Crucabena mention, one night stand, Arle can’t regulate her emotions…

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Language - Alexis Munroe

Notes: Hi!! Thank you for requesting such an interesting prompt, I’ll admit i did struggle with this, but it sort of reminded me of the song Language by Alexis Munroe, so I kind of took inspo from that too. I tried to stay along the general lines of your request but I did switch up a few things, I hope you like it!

Tears ran down your cheeks as you were pulled away from Peruere. Your eyes searched her crimson-cross eyes for any form of help, but no matter how many times you had tried to reach for her hand, you were pulled back by the strong Fatui soldiers at your side. “Mother, why?” You struggled against those who were holding you back, by now you were a mess, but you didn’t care. You just needed to know why Mother had wanted to toss you out like nothing. “Because you’re useless to us now. Simple as that.” And with a wave of Crucabena’s hand you were taken away to God knows where.

As you struggled all Peruere could do was watch, paralyzed in fear. Her dear friend was being taken away from her and there was nothing she could do. Your screams of distress rang out in her ears, and it wasn’t until you had been removed from the room could she even register what happened. Silent tears streaked her cheeks as she met Crucabena’s cold gaze. “M-Mother…” Peruere’s voice was so shaky it barely came out as a whisper. “Where are you taking her?” 

It was as if the evil woman had no regard for the child she had just thrown out because when she spoke, she acted like she was talking about taking out the trash. “We shouldn’t keep things that don’t serve us. Don’t you agree.?” Her icy gaze told Peruere that there was no disagreeing with her, so all she could do was nod along. She didn’t feel that way though, she missed her best friend. She would do anything to see her again.

-

You were sat at a quaint little bar in your hometown in the Fontaine when the woman a few seats down threw a comment your way. “You might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, you’re like a doll.” Your eyebrows raised at the familiar voice, you knew that tone from anywhere. Although you were almost 100% sure it was Peruere, you still turned to get a better look. There were those eyes again. Her crimson eyes stared right back at you and you felt your heart almost stop. You had to be sure it was her… “May I ask your name? You look familiar.” You ask, leaning in subtly after returning your own name to her as well.

There had been something you couldn’t quite pin down flash across her features after you said your name, but before you could notice, it was gone. “Arlecchino.” She says quickly. Huh? You thought to yourself. Maybe she had started going by something else, I mean it had been years since you last saw each other. You wondered if she was still working under Crucabena. It stung a little bit that she didn’t even remember you even though you had been so inseparable as children. She was your first friend, your first love. 

“Well Arlecchino, if you think I’m the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen, why don’t you show me?” Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your system, but it gave you an extra boost of confidence you wouldn’t have had otherwise. Arlecchino’s cheeks heat up at your words and you can tell she was equally as buzzed as you. “If you insist.” She said with a grin as she extended her gloved hand to you. You tried to hide a gasp when she stood up, but she was just so different from the last time you saw her. She was taller, more mature, but most of all she had a hidden strength to her that you only noticed when she tugged you out of your seat and snaked an arm around your waist.

Her hand rested at your hip and squeezed it firmly as the two of you made your way to her hotel room. You thanked the Archons that her hotel was just a block away from the bar because every moment that you weren’t being ravaged by her it felt like a year was being taken off of your lifespan. You needed her so badly that it was ridiculous, you were just so happy to see her again even if she didn’t seem to recognize you.

Once you had entered the elevator she smashed a finger down on her floor, the top floor you noticed. It seemed as if both of you were waiting for the elevator doors to shut because as soon as they did, Arlecchino’s hands were all over you. She had already begun to unbutton your crisp white shirt, revealing a skimpy black balconette bra that accentuated your breasts perfectly. Lipstick stains littered your chest as she left wet, messy kisses across every bit of exposed skin. She eventually worked her way up to your neck to suck little purple bruises into your delicate skin, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from letting out a pathetic whine.

You were interrupted by the tell-tale ding of the elevator doors opening, and you two were so caught up with each other that you hadn’t even noticed at first. Once the other woman was able to rip herself away from you she enveloped your hand in her own and led you to her room. You two stumbled into the room like you were two fawns learning how to walk for the first time, and you had barely made it to her bedroom. 

She laid you on the bed as gently as a drunk woman could before trying to unbutton the rest of your shirt. Her usually deft fingers were failing her tonight because she couldn’t quite get the next button off. Instead of asking you for help, the next logical decision for her was to just rip your shirt open. You gasped as the buttons flew in different directions in her room and you mourned the loss of one of your favorite shirts. Your little pity party was cut short though because Arlecchino had wasted no time unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side. At the sight of your breasts she couldn’t control herself, and she took one of them into her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around your hardening nipple. She didn’t neglect the other one though and instead put her hand to work to knead your breast.

Little moans filled the room and you couldn’t help but think about how heavenly her mouth felt on you. “More please…” Your soft voice called out to her and she obliged. You whined at the loss of her mouth as she flipped you around to be on your stomach. Your face pressed into the soft pillows as she pushed up your little skirt, ripped your poor stockings into shreds, and slid your panties down to your knees. Your cheeks heated up at the compromised position you were in, but Arlecchino almost wished she could take a picture for later. She caressed your soft hips and her fingers sent shivers straight down your arched spine. 

“I won’t tease you, I want you too, darling.” Arlecchino’s deep voice whispered into your ear. She pressed a hand onto your back as her other hand rubbed small circles onto your hip. She lifted her hand slightly before letting it come crashing down onto your ass. Your lips parted into a little “O” shape at the sting of her hand on your skin. You weren’t expecting it, but you didn’t complain when it happened again. You were bracing yourself for another one, but instead you felt a finger running down your dripping slit. You mewled at her feather light touch and tried bucking your hips back to get a little more friction.

You didn’t have to wait much longer though because she had instantly slid a long digit into your aching cunt. Her pace was nice and slow at first, only picking up when she added another finger. “You take me so well, good girl.” She groaned as she pumped her fingers into you. She reached the deepest parts of you that no one else ever could and you felt like you would go insane as she added a third finger. You felt so incredibly full and you had begun moving your hips back to meet the thrusts of her fingers. Her free hand caressed your back gently and it was a direct contrast to how rough her fingers were inside of you.

She caged you in under her and it almost sent you over the edge how she was grunting in your ear as she fucked you open on her fingers. You tilted your head slightly to get a glimpse of her, and when you saw her bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead and the way her face was scrunched up in concentration, you felt heat pool in your stomach. “Don’t stop!” You whined out in desperation. You might have sounded pathetic, but you couldn’t control the noises spilling from your lips as her fingers curled into you, hitting that little bundle of nerves each time.

Pressure was building in your stomach and with a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers you came hard. Your hands gripped the sheets as you squirmed under Arlecchino, but she didn’t slow down for you. It was only the beginning of your night together.

-

The two of you were now fully naked and panting against each other as your actions caught up to you. Arlecchino collapsed onto the plush bed and pulled you close against her, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as she planted a kiss on your lips. “You’re perfect…” She mumbled, and maybe it was selfish, but you wanted her to remember you so badly.

By now, the alcohol’s effects had long worn off and now that Arlecchino’s head was clear, she had been fully aware that the woman she had slept with was you. Her heart raced an abnormal amount and she was so torn on what to do. She had fucked up when she didn’t try to fight for you, but she was just a kid like you. What could she have done to stop Crucabena’s plans? She wanted to apologize so badly, but she felt like she had no right. You had to know it was her too, right? 

Arlecchino was so caught up in her own head that she hadn’t noticed you calling her name softly. “Sorry, doll. What was that again?” She murmurs gently, holding you closer to her.

“All I said was I’m sleepy.” You mumbled as you yawned. “Sleep then, I’ll be here.” The other woman ran her fingers through your hair, careful not to hurt you. Sleep was already taking over your body as your eyes fluttered shut. “I love you Peruere.” You whispered carelessly just before falling asleep. Arlecchino’s eyes widened and her body stiffened for a moment. Tears pooled in her eyes before she let them fall silently, just like on the night you were taken away from her. 

-

The morning after was a cold awakening to you when you woke up without her on your side. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but soon they turned into full sobs racking through your body. You couldn’t believe she truly didn’t remember you, your hopes that she did were crushed the moment you saw the note left on the bedside table. “Headed off to work. Left money for an Uber home, thanks for the good night. Call me sometime xxxxxxx” What a thoughtless note. You tried to gather what was left of your clothing so you could leave in a somewhat presentable manner. To your dismay you could only button the top of your shirt and your stockings were completely destroyed. You were able to tuck your shirt into your skirt to hide the fact that the bottom half of your buttons were missing, but you still felt like some type of whore as you left her room to return home. 

Your vision was still blurry with tears as you rushed out of the elevator that you didn’t even notice two people about to get in. You collided with the taller of the two and you both fell to the ground with a loud thump. Before you could register what had happened, the man apologized and offered you a hand. You took it wearily before apologies began tumbling out of your mouth profusely. “Don’t sweat it. I’m Lyney, and this is my sister Lynette.” He had introduced himself and his sister. You muttered your name, your tone laced with embarrassment at the state of yourself right now. “Pardon me for being intrusive, but what happened?” Lyney inquired once you had introduced yourself. You couldn’t just say, “Oh nothing, it's just that my first love who I hadn’t seen since we were children fucked me, didn’t recognize me, and left before I even woke up,” so instead you settled for, “It was a rough night.” The two nodded their heads before sharing glances. You oddly didn’t feel judged by them, but you did notice their empathetic gazes on you.

“It’s fine though!” You waved your hands around trying to get your point across without worrying them too much. “How about we take you out to eat, you look like you could use a couple of friends right now.” Lyney shot you a warm smile, and you couldn’t say no to a face like that. “Alright then… Thank you seriously.”

Your little trio was beginning to form very quickly, and you noticed that the atmosphere between the three of you had gotten very friendly and familiar in no time. Even Lynette’s usual quiet demeanor was left behind as she got to know you. Everyone was stuffed from the food and after a moment of just enjoying each other's presence, you thought it would be appropriate to pay. The waitress had dropped off everyone’s checks not too long ago, so you began reaching into your purse to retrieve your credit card. Before you could though, Lyney placed a gentle hand over yours and shook his head with a good natured laugh. “Don’t worry about it! It’s on us.” Confusion washed over your face as your eyes flickered to Lynette and she nodded her head.

“I couldn’t possibly let you guys pay for me! We only just met after all…” You protested, but they weren’t having any of it. As the waitress came back around Lyney gestured for her to lean down and once she did, he whispered something into her ear. She nodded curtly before waving us off with a, “Have a nice day!” and a polite smile. It seemed like the day just kept getting more weird by the second. “What was that about?” You questioned, and the two siblings shared a look– like they were exchanging words without actually speaking.

Lyney was the first to break the silence, “You see, we work for a large orphanage, so we have a tab at the restaurant.” You furrowed your brows, but accepted the explanation anyway. You had your suspicions on what orphanage it was, but you kept that to yourself. “I see… Well in any case I’d like to repay both of you sometime for the meal. If you want, can we all exchange numbers?” You suggest. Regardless of who they worked for, you wanted to become better friends with the siblings. They obliged happily and with that you bid each other goodbye until next time.

-

The three of you had grown close and their younger sibling Freminet had even begun making appearances. Since you were older than them, you did feel like a bit of an older sister, but it seemed as if they didn’t mind the dynamic at all, you found it cute, and you really enjoyed their presence. After your initial meeting, they had started coloring your world little by little, bringing you joy just at the thought of seeing them.

One night you had all agreed to go out for dinner again and to meet up at the hotel they stayed in before heading off. You were adorned in a mid length silk dress that draped off of your curves effortlessly and black heels that made a delicate clicking noise every time you took a step. It was odd dressing up so fancy, but the siblings insisted that their father was joining them, so they would be taking me somewhere more high end. You were honestly nervous to meet their father, he must have been someone of high status based on how the siblings praised him.

You arrived outside of the hotel and you observed the scenery around you as you waited for them to greet you. You heard the distant chatter of their voices as they made your way to you, and when you looked up you froze. Trailing behind them was the woman you had longed for your whole life, the woman who left you without a word the day after you hooked up. Her eyes widened momentarily, before leveling her expression. Lyney’s bright voice piped up and he introduced her as their Father and you were infinitely more confused. If she was the Father of the orphanage then the only way that could have happened was if Crucabena had been killed.

You looked to her wishing she’d explain, but all she offered was a curt bow of her head as she introduced herself as Father of the House of Hearth. It was clear to you she recognized you now and had only been acting as if she didn’t before. You were sure your face was giving your confusion away so you tried to reel yourself in before you made things anymore awkward tonight. 

You stayed in step with Lyney as he guided the party to the restaurant of choice, and you tried to keep up with the conversation, but your mind drifted to Arlecchino more often than not. You felt her piercing gaze on the back of your head, and no matter how much you tried to ignore her, you just couldn’t shake her off. 

Finally arriving at the restaurant, you were ushered in by a kind hostess and you were led to a solitary room with a large table in the middle of it. “Welcome in Lady Arlecchino and her guests.” The hostess showed everyone to their seats and brought out menus before leaving everyone to decide their orders in peace. Conversation was beginning to flow a little better now that you had adjusted to her presence. Although you wish she’d stop staring you down from across the table, averting her gaze every time you looked back.

“So, Arlecchino, you’re their Father? Why not mother?” You prodded and the other woman stiffened up at the question. You knew you had hit a nerve, but you had every right to considering what your “mother” had done to you. The siblings must have noticed the tense atmosphere shift because they were sharing glances with each other at the mention of Arlecchino’s title. They didn’t jump in just yet though because Arlecchino answered swiftly. “I have an ill association with the old mother of the orphanage, I’m sure you’ve heard tales. After all, Crucabena was known even outside of the orphanage.” A frown painted your features at the subtle jab being made. You glared at her across the table with a new found hurt building in your chest, and you excused yourself abruptly.

You made your way to the restroom and the dam broke. Sobs racked your body as every emotion you had been harboring since the night started just became so overwhelming. The door creaked slightly signaling someone would be entering shortly and you tried to pull yourself together, but it had been too late. The same woman who had caused your tears made herself known as she cleared her throat. You could tell she felt regretful for letting that slick comment even leave her mouth. Your expulsion from the orphanage was traumatic for her, but even more so for you, and she knew that. She knew, but still made a jab at you because she couldn’t regulate her feelings.

“I…” She started and you cut her off before she could get any further. “You what?” You snapped. “You came in here to fuck with me some more?  Make me feel special and like you remember me, only to rip my heart out again and act like I’m nobody to you?” Your words stung her, but she had no right to feel hurt after what she had done. “No. No, never that. I want to apologize for how I handled this situation.” You could feel the sincerity in her voice, so you decided to hear her out.

“The day Crucabena had you dragged out,  I never had a night of peaceful sleep again. I was tired of how she treated us children and my every night was spent plotting her death.” A gasp left your lips and your eyes widened at her confession. You didn’t say anything quite yet though, urging Arlecchino to continue. “On the night of my 17th birthday I finally went through with my plan and killed her. I killed her for you, in the hopes that one day I would be able to find you again, but when I did meet you I was incredibly intoxicated.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with her lithe, gloved fingers for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I’m ashamed at how I acted, I recognized you almost immediately and just got carried away. I missed you terribly.” By now your tears had almost dried completely, but you were feeling so many things it was ridiculous.

“I just don’t get it. Why take me back to your place, fuck me, and then just leave without explanation. Do you know how used I felt?” You sniffled slightly. “I felt like you recognized me, to then only get my hopes shattered all because you felt ashamed of yourself? Is that it?” You were beginning to get worked up again and before you could say something you really regretted, Arlecchino spoke up again. “I don’t get it either, and I’m sorry. I should apologize for as long as I live for hurting you. I want you to be back in my life, just as you should have been this whole time.” She murmurs before pulling you in for a tight hug. Initially you fought against her, tears streaming down your cheeks again, but eventually you gave in. You just stayed in her embrace for what felt like an eternity, your face pressed against her chest. Your sobs soon subsided into little hiccups and sniffles as she rubbed soothing circles over your back to calm you down.

“I missed you so much, Peruere.” You whisper into her chest. “I missed you too, my sweetheart. I never stopped thinking about you for even one day. Thank you for coming back into my life again.” Her words were sprinkled in between feather light kisses to the top of your head. You nodded gently, it was going to take a while to get used to this again, and you would struggle with understanding why she went about the situation like this, but you couldn’t bear to be apart from her again. “You’re going to have to work to get me back, you know?” You joked with her, maybe it was only partially a joke though. You wanted to be pampered and doted on by her for all the years you missed out on it, and she would happily oblige. She would do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours for the rest of her life. “You know I’d do anything.” Arlecchino mumbles into you. “Now we should probably get back out there, the kids must be wondering what's taking so long.” You giggle softly before wiping the mascara streaks off of your cheeks. “Should we explain to them? Or…” You trail off unsure of how to move forward. You get a hum in confirmation from Arlecchino, and you nod. They would have to find out your history one way or another, so why not tonight? You still looked a bit rough, but they would understand. “After you.” Arlecchino had gestured to the door before opening it or you first. You took a shaky breath before she had grabbed your hand and squeezed it for reassurance that everything would be okay.

You might have been hurt for a long time, and it might take time to recover, but as long as you had your beloved Peruere beside you, things would be alright.

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Wardrobe Malfunction

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 1.6k TYPE: Humor, Clothes Swap NOTE(S): For the purposes of this situation, reader is on the shorter side, and also because I feel like they have the evil of a short person in their soul. Also, same Y/n character as Dog Walking, but you don't need to read that to read this at all!

Despite whatever airs you put on, you like wearing your Bastard München uniform. Mostly because it makes you feel like a big shot professional, which appeals to your sense of self-importance.

You don’t think much of it when you slip on your shirt, but soon enough it becomes apparent to you that something is off. It feels wrong, too loose. And it’s falling down way lower than what you’re used to. You take a few seconds to scrutinize it in between owlish blinks, although the emboldened logo on the front doesn’t aid you in figuring out this mystery.

The easy way to check comes to you soon enough, and you lift your leg to see a traitorous ten in the corner of the shorts instead of your number. A look of horror takes over your face… No… You’re going to get Kaiser’s cooties. He is contaminating you with his germs.

You can already feel them loosening after the movement, and once you put your foot back down, they immediately slide off. With a huff, you grab them from the floor and resolve to strut up to the crux of your dilemma.

When you approach, Kaiser has his back on you, and you immediately notice the big eight, and the wrong name accompanying it. Ness is struggling to fit into the shirt he got, and while his jersey isn’t too ill-fitting on Kaiser, it’s too short, leaving him to fumble with the hem to try and hide the exposed part of his waist.

“It’s just like the pants, I can’t put it on,” Ness cries.

“What do you mean, you can’t put it on?” Kaiser asks before taking a handful of fabric and yanking down with too much force. “See, you can put it on just fine.”

“I can barely move! This is ridiculous-”

Oh, you see how it is now. Are they stupid, though? How have they been talking for so long without pinpointing the problem? You sneak behind Kaiser and reel in your arm before smacking him on the back with the shorts, exerting all of your might.

He lets out a grunt of pain you believe is overdramatized since it can’t have hurt that much, shoulders jerking up. “Whoever did that, I will fucking curb stomp y-” and then, after he whips around and sees you, the threat dies down on his tongue.

“Your dirty pants, sir,” you say in a fake fancy voice before throwing them at his face.

Kaiser flings them away on the bench, narrowing his eyes at you with this weird mix between taunting and adoring. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you. You’re so cute right now. Let me see.”

With this new positioning, Ness seems to finally realize what happened, too, because he says, “Wait, Kaiser, that’s… m-mine.”

Ignoring him, Kaiser steps around to examine you, and his ugly grin that you can’t stand grows even wider somehow when he reads his name. His name that’s on you because you’re wearing his jersey. “Holy shit.”

“You look like an imp.”

He disregards you with ease, too — you have to admit he’s good at this ‘only hearing what he wants to hear’ stuff — and opens his locker to rummage through it. Ness says, “You’re- you’re wearing Kaiser’s? That’s so unfair.”

“Yeah, and you’re wearing mine. Stand proud. You’re blessed. Millions would kill to be in your place. Everyone’s gonna wear this merch in the future, but you get the real thing.”

“You seriously live in la-la-land, it’s unbelievable.”

You spin your finger in the air, seeming way too pleased with yourself. “Do a little twirl for me, I wanna see how it looks on you all around.”

“I will NOT be doing that,” Ness denies with a huff. He’s so uptight when it comes to anyone who’s not Kaiser. Someone would’ve thought you have gangrene or that you asked him to clean roadkill off the street or something with the way he’s acting.

What Kaiser was searching for in such a rush turns out to have been his phone, you come to find out when he starts taking pictures of you without even a modicum of shame. Multiple of them, if the repetitive pressing he’s doing is indicative of anything.

“Don’t point your phone at me, you sick fuck,” you say, reaching out to cover the lens.

Your efforts go in vain, since he just lifts it up high where you can’t reach and continues. “No way. You’re just way too cute right now. I mean, shit.”

Mocking you aside, there’s this thinly-veiled wonder on his face, and it’s making you want to vomit because of course he’d be the type to get a kick out of stupid shit like this. He’s so fucking lucky, too, it’s pissing you off. Among the three of you, he’s the only one who’s kind of in presentable condition.

Once you come close to swatting the device out of his grasp with a jump, Kaiser presses his palm to your face and shoves you away, keeping you at an arm’s length. Then he diverts his attention to Ness, snapping photos of him now and laughing. “You look stupid as hell.”

“Nooo, Kaiser, don’t! Stop!” Ness says, red-faced, to absolutely no avail.

He even takes a few steps back and does a bad job of covering his stomach with his hands while inching towards the bench, which… he makes a genuine attempt at ducking under. This doesn’t deter Kaiser from continuing his paparazzi session or whatever it is that he’s doing, nor does it conceal Ness from view.

You detach your cheek from Kaiser’s hold and announce, “Don’t worry, Ness, I’m gonna save you from the vile pig,” before you take an unnecessary leap and stick your fingers where the shirt is riding up, tickling his sides.

This startles him enough to let go of his phone (the apparatus of evil), sending it flying. You at least have enough decency to catch it, since you’re not really above letting it shatter either. Then you start scrolling through it with the intention of deleting the photos.

It doesn’t take Kaiser long to recover from your attack, and when he does, he reaches out to you. You assume he’s just trying to get his phone, so you kind of twist around to try and prevent him from doing so, but what he does is much worse.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him before collapsing his stupid ass on the bench (which, at this point, has witnessed many horrors), leaving you to sit on his lap. Then — as if this isn’t offensive enough already — he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re such a touch-starved freak, it’s actually appalling.”

“You probably won’t look this good in your life ever again.” You roll your eyes at the stupid comment, and he starts tapping the screen along with you, and he even has the nerve to snicker. “I needed to be opportunistic.”

“Whatever, man.”

The weird battle results in a lot of random apps opening and closing, until eventually the gallery comes up on accident. With a feeling of triumph, you slap his hand away, so he won’t get in your way anymore. There you see the long string of pictures depicting Ness’s progression towards hiding under the bench, which, in your opinion, would make a great slideshow. Next are the images featuring you, where you’re looking up at him and struggling to even graze the phone, swiping your fists at thin air. Wow, you never thought you’d see your Great and Almighty Self from such a… pitiful perspective.

Before you can mope about how vertically challenged you are, however, something else catches your eye, and you burst out laughing, borderline dry-heaving from the acuteness of it. “What-”

Kaiser flusters and snatches his phone out of your fingers before pushing you up and away from him. This, for better or for worse, doesn’t wipe your memory or make you unsee the comically large amount of shirtless mirror selfies he has accumulated.

Despite your stumbling, you don’t fall. “How did you always manage to make the exact same pose and exact same expression in every single one of them?! Seriously. That’s spine-chilling.” You pretend to wipe a tear, even if it’s not that funny.

Kaiser doesn’t respond and turns around to toss his phone back to wherever he got it from. Ness — whose presence you kind of forgot about — deems it safe enough to stand up and reemerge. He asks, “What? What did you see?”

“His shrine of himself,” you say. “By the way, I think he’s a stripper.”

“I’m not a stripper,” argues Kaiser as if there was a possibility Ness might believe you.

For the first time, it’s Ness who is pretending Kaiser didn’t say anything. “Did you delete them?”

“No.”

He slumps, disheartened.

You make your way behind him. “Alright, let’s switch back,” you say, rolling up the material of your jersey. Surprisingly Ness accepts the help without any complaints and just accommodates you with a high raise of his hands.

You’re nearing the biggest problem area — his shoulders — when Kaiser deems it fit to intervene. “Ness, bend over. You’re taking too long.”

He does as told and Kaiser, for some godforsaken, idiotic reason, hooks his fingers inside of the collar. But you don’t see that since you’re trying to focus on your part, so instead you just comment on his willingness, “Slutty.”

“S-Shut up- Oh my god, don’t pull like that, what if it tears?!”

“It’s not going to tear.”

This exchange alarms you somewhat, so you shift your gaze to Kaiser, and what greets you is the sight of him tugging on the collar, trying to hoist it over Ness’s head. Your eye twitches. “If you damage mine, I’m gonna make good use of yours. Naturally what I mean by this is that I’ll use it as toilet paper.”

“It’s not going to tear,” repeats Kaiser, yanking harder. Apparently your collective lack of faith in him is vexing him.

… You hear a rip.

___

Happy valentine's day (I wrote this yesterday i was with my boyfriend today lol. He's american so he thinks valentine's day is a real holiday)

[fortheloveofwonderland]

No Distance Left to Run | Part 2 | S.R

Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter Summary - On Rossi’s wedding day, Spencer discovers something that could change everything. You are still reeling from the aftermath of your confession and from events that transpired with your husband a few days prior.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Category - friends to lovers | mutual pining | angst with happy ending | smut minors DNI

Warnings - spoilers for 14.02 Starter Home, 13.23 Believer, 14.01 300, 14.14 Sick and Evil, very brief mentions of therapy, burns, abusive relationship, drinking, typical case related stuff, allusions to sex, hints at cheating, swearing, prison arc, abuse statistics, violence, arguing, tears, strangulation, hints at sexual assault.

WC - 9.7k

Part 2 - Never Have I Ever

Present Day

You inhaled deeply until your lungs couldn’t physically hold any more air. You held your breath while you counted to five in your head. Then you slowly exhaled the breath through your nose. You repeated the action three more times.

It was a tactic your therapist had forced upon you, to employ when you were feeling overwhelmed. At first you’d thought it was dumb, not believing the simple act of breathing could help bring you back from the brink. But time and time again you were proven wrong. 

Once you had calmed your rattled nerves you went to pick up the glass of wine from the coffee table. As you leaned to get it, your shirt sleeve rolled up a few inches, the pink scar on your forearm almost in the perfect shape of the state of Florida, caught your eye. 

That’s what Luke had told you in the hospital while the doctor was debriding your burn. 

“It kinda looks like Florida.”

“Excuse me?” 

“The wound. It looks like the shape of Florida.” 

His strange comment had made you laugh and it had taken your mind off of the pain of the doctor scraping debris from your wound. You supposed that had been Luke’s plan.

Before you picked up your glass you found yourself running your fingertips over the scar. It had been a long time since it caused you any pain, physical pain anyway. The residual mental anguish was yet to vanish entirely. It wasn’t the only scar adorned on your body, but it was the one that was the hardest to hide. 

In those days Spencer had taken the brunt of your anger. It hadn’t been deliberate, you didn’t mean to take your frustrations out on your best friend. It was almost a miracle after the way you’d treated him that he still called you his best friend. 

You pushed him away during that time, because if anyone was going to get to the bottom of what was going on it would be Spencer. He knew you so well, sometimes you thought he knew you better than you knew yourself. And he’d already started piecing together the truth that day in the Guymon police department. 

Maybe if you’d told him sooner he could have helped. Maybe if you’d just been honest with him that day when he asked, things wouldn’t have gone on for so long. 

“Did Jared do this to you?” 

“What? How can you even ask me that?” 

“That wasn’t an answer. You’re deflecting.”

“I didn’t think a dumb question warranted an answer.”

“You’re doing it again. Did he hurt you?” 

“Stop it, Spencer. Just stop it, ok? Stop it.” 

You were a strong, independent and fierce woman. You didn’t want to admit to your best friend, or anyone for that matter, that your husband was abusive. 

Was abusive. Past tense. 

You couldn’t fight back at home because it would make things so much worse, so instead you took your anger and your pain out on the one person who had done nothing but care about you since the moment you’d met him. 

And despite what you put Spencer through, he’d never once turned his back on you. This time however, you might have gone too far. 

You finally picked up the wine glass and sunk back against the couch cushions. You’d really messed up this time. You’d messed up with Spencer before, plenty of times, but this seemed worse somehow. 

After all these years you had absolutely no right to tell Spencer how you felt about him. You’d always known he was in love with you and you’d had ample opportunity to tell him you felt the same. 

Too much time had passed, too much had changed. He’d been single almost the entire time you’d known him, with the exception of Maeve. You’d had plenty of time before you met Jared to tell him how you felt. 

But now for the first time in the fifteen years you’d known him he was in a steady relationship. Max was sweet and uncomplicated and she seemed to make Spencer happy. 

They’d been dating around four months now and things seemed to be good between them. When he’d introduced her to the team, he’d been beaming, happier than you’d ever seen him. 

“Guys, this is Max. My…girlfriend.” 

No one even had a suspicion he’d been dating someone before he brought her along for drinks with the team just over a month ago. No one had a clue. 

“Girlfriend?” JJ spoke to everyone's confusion. 

“Yeah,” he blushed slightly, wrapping an arm around Max’s petite shoulders. 

“How long has this been going on for?” Emily smiled around her glass. 

“A few months.” Max answered for him. 

“After all these years the kid is still so hard to read.” Rossi chuckled. “It’s very nice to meet you, Max. I’m Dave.” 

You’d merely stood and stared as one by one the BAU agents introduced themselves to the slight brunette, meanwhile Spencer smiled proudly at her side. 

It wasn’t until later on in the evening Spencer found you outside the bar, leaning up against the wall and staring at the starry night sky.

“Hey,” he tentatively approached you. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.” 

You wanted to shake it off, to tell him you were just tired or something. But for some reason you couldn’t bite your tongue. 

“You remember when I got engaged?” You frowned at him, unable to hold back.

“Uh, of course I do?” His brows furrowed, not sure where you were going with this.

“I told you that I owed you more than having to find out at the same time as the rest of the team, that I should have told you first.” 

Spencer sighed with a slow nod of understanding. 

“You’re annoyed that I didn’t tell you about Max.” 

“Bravo, genius.” You scoffed.

You were a little on the rogue side of tipsy. Had you been more sober you wouldn’t have dared bring this up. 

“Well as I told you when you got engaged, you didn’t owe me anything. The same way I didn’t owe you anything.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“It’s different and you know it.” You spat. 

“It's no different.” He shook his head. “You left. You walked away. You made it perfectly clear that it didn’t mean anything to you so finally I met someone else.” 

“I never said it didn’t mean anything.” You scoffed, he was putting words into your mouth.

“No you’re right, you didn’t.” He stepped closer to you. “You didn’t say anything. For six months you haven’t once brought it up and I didn’t either because I didn’t want to look like an idiot. But you just left without a word and then you acted like it never happened. So I met Max and considering you’ve barely said two words to me in the last half a year, I didn’t think I needed to explain myself to you.” 

A tear escaped your eye as you pictured the way Spencer had looked at you that night and then the way he’d looked at you today. 

He’d been well within his right not to tell you about Max after what you’d done. He was right, you’d left and you’d never mentioned it again. You had tried to pretend it never happened because realistically it shouldn’t have happened. 

But it had and there was no changing that. Just because you wouldn’t talk about it didn’t make it any less real. And now for over seven months you had tried to forget it ever happened, but there was no forgetting. 

You sipped your wine and wiped your eyes before any more tears could fall. You heard the floorboards overhead creak with soft footsteps. You held your breath and listened intently as they crossed the room. 

You heard a door open gently and then the same footsteps on the landing. Another door opened and closed. A few minutes later you heard the toilet flush followed by water running in the sink.

You continued to hold your breath as the door opened and closed again and the footsteps headed closer to the stairs rather than back towards the bedroom. 

You downed your glass of wine as the footsteps started down the stairs towards you. 

***

Seven Months Ago

You gravitated down the hall without recalling telling your feet to do so. It was like a magnetic pull, as though you didn’t have control over your own movements. 

The case had taken the team to Varnville, South Carolina on what had initially looked to be a cold case when a mummified body was discovered in a wall. Rossi had gone on ahead to review the case and upon discovering a wealth of other bodies, dead between twenty years and one, the rest of you joined him.

You’d been worried about Spencer for weeks now, ever since his ordeal with Ben’s Believers and Benjamin Merva. He still had some residual bruising peppering his otherwise alabaster skin, as well as a scar forming on his lower lip. 

He’d tried to put on a brave face, mostly for Penelope who was suffering from PTSS from the abduction. But you knew Spencer well enough to know he wasn’t dealing with the aftermath as well as he liked to pretend. 

After Emily had called it a night and sent you all back to the hotel at around two am, you hadn’t been able to sleep. And somehow your body had moved without your meaning to do so, out of the room and down the corridor until you were standing outside of another door and knocking on it. 

You knocked quietly in case he was asleep but somehow you knew he wouldn’t be. You heard some shuffling from inside the room and then footsteps padding closer.

He opened the door and didn’t look at all surprised to see you. He’d changed out of his work attire and wore a pair of dark green flannel pants, a plain white t-shirt with his signature mismatched socks, one yellow and one red. Even after all these years it still shocked you a little to see him out of a suit and tie. 

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He offered you a meek smile, clearly knowing why you were here.

“Can I come in?” You asked gently. 

He swiped his tongue along his bottom lip before rolling it between his teeth. With a sigh, he nodded and held the door open for you. 

“You’ve barely talked about what happened.” You spoke as you were closing the door behind you. 

“That’s because there isn’t much to say.” He shrugged, moving across the room and leaning up against the desk. 

“Merva nearly killed you.” You swore if you squinted your eyes you would be able to see the knife still pressed against his Adam’s apple. 

“But he didn’t kill me. And I’m fine.” 

“If we were a second later Spence-”

“But you weren’t.” He chuckled, cutting you off. “You made it in time and I’m ok.” 

“It’s ok if you aren’t. What you went through was traumatic. You don’t have to pretend to be fine for me, Spencer.” 

“You’re a hypocrite.” He rolled his eyes, his tone changing sharply. 

“Excuse me?” You frowned. 

“How many times have I asked you if you were ok only to have you pretend you’re fine when your husband was abusing you?” He spat out, pushing himself away from the desk. 

Your back went rigid, your shoulders squared. You ground your teeth furiously. 

“Wow, thanks for making me wish I hadn’t bothered to check in. I was only trying to help and you go and throw that in my face?” You shook your head in disappointment. 

“And I was only trying to help you!” 

“I didn’t need your help!” 

“So you were just going to let him use you as a punching bag forever?” He scoffed. 

“It’s complicated and you know it.” You folded your arms to protect yourself. From what you weren’t sure. 

“It shouldn’t be.” He shook his head. 

“I didn’t come here to talk about Jared. I wanted to make sure you were ok but clearly that was a mistake.” You spun on your heels back towards the door and started marching towards it. 

He exhaled noisily, raking his fingers through his hair. 

“I’m not ok.” He confessed, his tone sounding as though it pained him to admit. You slowly turned back to him. “I haven’t been ok for a long time. It’s been a really bad few years.” 

“You’ve been through a lot.” You nodded, cautiously stepping back closer to him. “I don’t think you ever really got past your incarceration, everything that happened with Cat.”

“I didn’t.” He admitted with a shake of his head. “I know all the right things to say to a therapist so they would reinstate me. But I’m barely holding it together. Prison and Cat, Mr Scratch and then the Believers. It’s been a lot.” 

“It’s ok not to be ok.” You whispered, reaching him now and placing your hands on his shoulders to try and ground him. “I haven’t been there for you the way I should have been.”

“You’ve had a lot going on yourself.” He sniffed. 

“It didn’t stop you trying to be there for me. Instead of helping you, I’ve been pushing you away.” 

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. 

“No, it’s not.” You shook your head. “I’m sorry that I…I wasn’t strong enough to walk away from him.” 

“Strength had nothing to do with it. You’re without a doubt the strongest woman I have ever met.” He told you frankly, his own hands moving to cup your lower back.

“I married the wrong man.” You whimpered, glancing at your left hand on Spencer’s shoulder and the silver wedding band on your finger. “I knew it when he proposed to me. I knew it when I was walking down that aisle. And you knew it too, you were just too polite to tell me the truth.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly. “You did marry the wrong man.” 

A silent understanding passed between the two of you, the kind of understanding that existed only between two people who knew each other inside and out. 

And when he leaned in closer and his lips brushed against yours, it felt right. It felt like the most normal thing in the whole world. 

It continued to feel that way when he deepened the kiss, nearly fifteen years worth of feelings coming out in a single kiss. As he held you close he whispered against your lips, “after all this time? Always.” 

And you finally understood what he meant. 

It felt so normal that you didn’t question it when he led you towards his bed and started helping you out of your clothes. 

***

Present Day

The weight of what you’d done didn’t sink in until you woke up in the morning, curled up against your best friend's naked body. 

Spencer was sleeping soundly, his messy hair splayed out against the hotel pillow, one arm lightly draped across your hips.

You’d managed to creep out of his hold, redress and sneak out of the room before he woke up. And you’d just acted like nothing ever happened. You pretended like you hadn’t slept with your best friend. 

The footsteps on the stairs got closer and you exhaled, trying to clear your mind of thoughts of the past. 

The last thing you should have done was sleep with Spencer. No, the last thing you should have done was confess your love for him during a hostage situation. But sleeping with him had been a close second. 

But he was right, you’d walked away that morning and never looked back, buried your head in the sand and effectively shattered his heart by pretending it didn’t happen. 

You’d told him that night your marriage was complicated. He could never understand. He couldn’t understand because he’d never been married. He would also never understand the complexities of the situation because not only wasn’t he married, but he didn’t have children. 

“Mom?” A croaky voice came from behind you, right on cue. 

You plastered on a smile and turned slowly in the chair to see your daughter rubbing her tired eyes. 

“Hi sweet pea, what are you doing up so late?” You kept your voice quiet as she padded over to you. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” She fell to the couch next to you, immediately curling against you and resting her head on your shoulder. 

You wrapped an arm around her, using your other hand to smooth her messy hair back from her face. 

“When did you get home?” She stifled a yawn. 

“A few hours ago. It was a bad one.” You kissed her head. 

You didn’t make a habit of bringing cases home with you, but eight year old Adeline was far too smart for her own good. You often wondered where she got it from. 

She was her mothers daughter through and through, so much like you it often scared you. Looking into her eyes you sometimes felt like looking into a window to the past. 

She was the absolute light of your life, the first time you held her in your arms you thought your body might burst with the amount of love you felt for her. 

She nuzzled closer to you, yawning once more. 

“I missed you, mom.” She mumbled. 

“I missed you more, baby girl.” You closed your eyes and tried to revel in the feeling of your daughter in your arms. 

As she got older these moments would inevitably be few and far between. 

For a while the two of you sat like this, despite the late hour. Mother and daughter lost in their own little world. After a time you heard another door open above you and more footsteps padding down the stairs. 

A few moments later a messy haired and bleary eyed little boy appeared in the doorway. 

“Can’t sleep either, buddy?” You smiled at him. 

“No,” he pouted with a shake of his head. 

“Come on over.” You patted your lap and did as he was told. 

Finley was three years his sister's junior although almost as tall as her. He was equally as astute at Adeline but shared his looks with his father. 

He was the more sensitive of your two children, he wore his heart on his sleeve whereas Adeline was better at hiding her emotions like her mother. 

The five year old plopped himself down in your lap and you cradled him with your other arm. 

This was as close to a perfect moment as had ever existed. These two children were the best thing you’d ever done with your life. 

The love you felt for Adie and Fin knew no bounds. And no matter how many times Jared hit you, burned you, scarred you, you’d always be grateful to him for giving you your two incredible children. 

Despite the way he treated you he’d never laid a finger on your kids. He loved Adeline and Finely, he was an amazing father. It was just a shame he couldn’t be an amazing husband too. 

Maybe he’d always been a little controlling, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. It got worse when he lost his job. Adeline was five and Finley was two. Jared became quick to anger, lashing out at you with his words. 

It started so small you barely noticed it. He’d felt his control slipping in his professional life after being fired and so he tried to regain it at home. 

The first signs had been when he started getting angry when you spent time with Spencer. He got jealous and would yell that he didn’t like how much time you spent with him. 

So you tried to limit your interactions with your best friend for the sake of your marriage. When you did manage to see him you always lied to Jared and told him you were with JJ of Penelope or Emily. 

The first time he hit you was when you arrived home from Mexico after Spencer’s initial arrest. You’d told him it was just a normal case when you’d hurriedly left in the middle of the night but eventually you’d had to tell him the truth.

The kids were asleep when you got home that night and you found him in the kitchen, a glass of scotch on the counter next to a half empty bottle.

“It’s bad,” you sighed as you dropped your purse to the counter. “We managed to get him extradited but he’s been detained. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.” 

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been so stupid as to go down to Mexico without telling anyone. If you ask me, he deserves it.” Jared scoffed, raising the glass to his lips. 

“He deserves to have been drugged and accused of murder?” You frowned at him. 

“How do you know it's an accusation? For all you know he murdered that woman.” He shrugged.

“Spencer did not kill Nadie Ramos. Spencer couldn’t hurt a fly.” 

“Urgh, there you go again.” He rolled his eyes, sipping more of the scotch.

“There I go again, what?” 

“Spencer this and Spencer that. Jesus, he’s all you ever talk about.” 

“Well that’s not true.” You rolled your eyes.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Jared slammed his glass on the counter, eyeing you wildly.

“No, that’s not what I said. I think you're exaggerating.” You felt yourself tense at the way he was looking at you. 

“I told you I don’t like you spending time with him.” His jaw was set in a firm line.

“I work with him, Jared. I have to see him. And one of us needs a job…” You spoke the last part under your breath but of course he heard you.

“Excuse me?” He spat at you. 

“It’s been months, Jared. My salary alone barely covers all our bills.” 

“You think I’m not trying? You think I like being out of work, being a fucking stay at home dad? This is my worst goddamn nightmare, Y/N!” He raised his voice and you flinched a little. 

“Your worst nightmare is spending time with your kids?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“That’s not what I meant.” He scoffed. “The only good part about this is spending more time with them. But I am climbing the freaking walls. You’re never here and that was fine when I was working too because I didn’t notice so much. I am going stir crazy, I feel like I have no purpose, no control.” 

“Of course you have a purpose.” You softened a little, rounding the counter towards him. “Those kids adore having you around all the time. Your purpose doesn't need to be tied to your professional identity. Just enjoy this time with them, you’ll find something soon enough.” 

You placed your hands flush on his chest and tried to calm him. You could feel his heart beating erratically beneath his shirt. 

“I love you.” He sighed, placing his own hands on your hips. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, getting on your tiptoes and kissing him. 

He wrapped his arms firmly around you, holding you in place. For a few brief moments everything was wonderful between you. And then your phone rang. 

You stepped back from his hold with a smile, pulling the device from your pocket. 

“It’s Emily, I should take this.” You nodded before turning your back on your husband. “Hey Em, is everything ok?” 

Emily proceeded to tell you that the FBI had effectively turned its back on Spencer, not willing to provide him with their legal services due to the fact he left the country without telling anyone. She told you about her old friend Fiona Duncan whom she was hoping would take on Reid’s case but it was ultimately a long shot. 

You took it all in, feeling sick to your stomach that the bureau would turn their back on him like that. Emily informed you Fiona was going to meet with Reid in the morning.

“I’ll meet you there, I need to see him.” Your voice shook a little.

“Ok, I’ll see you in the morning, try and get some sleep.” She replied. 

“You too.” You hung up the phone and when you turned back to Jared his face was entirely bright red. 

“You’re not going to see him.” He spat through a clenched jaw.

“He’s my best friend, Jared. He’s scared and alone right now. I need to see him.” 

“You will do what I tell you to do, woman.” 

“Uh, I will do what my team needs me to do. Thank you very much.” 

Suddenly he advanced on you, shoving you roughly back up against the wall. And when he smacked you hard around the face you felt your whole world crumble. 

Tears immediately filled your eyes, your cheek stinging from the contact. He quickly stepped away and turned back to his scotch.

“I did that because I love you.” He whispered around the glass of alcohol.

Every time he hurt you without fail he would follow it up with some kind of comment like that. You’d lost count of the amount of times he said the likes of, “you know I’d never intentionally hurt you,” or “I’m sorry that you think I hurt you.” 

By the time he poured scalding oil on your arm you’d grown used to it. You’d simply resided yourself to the fact this was your life now. 

You thought maybe when he’d eventually gotten a new job he would calm down, go back to being the man you fell in love with. But he never did. 

The Jared Haines that beat you, forced you into bed when you weren’t in the mood, yelled at you until you cried, wasn’t the same Jared Haines you’d married. 

You may have married the wrong man but you’d do it all over again for Adie and Fin. 

“I love you kids so much, never forget that.” You whispered as you held them tighter trying to stem your tears. 

“Love you too mommy.” Fin snuggled closer. 

“Love you mom.” Adie agreed. 

***

“There you are, boy wonder, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Garcia tottered over to him the second he walked in the room. 

“I’ve literally just walked through the door. What’s up Garcia?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. 

“I need to…” she glanced away from Spencer, to the petite brunette holding his hand. “Max, hi. Can I steal your boyfriend momentarily?” 

“Sure, go ahead.” Max laughed, letting go of his hand. 

Spencer bowed his head and kissed her cheek before Garcia was roughly grabbing him by the wrist and dragging Spencer behind her. 

The grand ballroom was decorated beautifully and tastefully but he barely had a chance to take it in before Penelope had accosted him. 

He’d arrived earlier than necessary in case Rossi needed any last minute help for his big day. But he hadn’t even made it to the bar. 

Penelope pulled him outside onto a large patio area where staff were setting up tables and fussing over centrepieces. 

“What is going on?” Spencer asked her, smoothing out his shirt once she pulled them to a stop. 

“Have you spoken to Y/N?” Her eyes were a little manic beneath her thick framed glasses. 

His stomach coiled into knots. Her panicked tone and frantic eyes immediately worried him. 

No, he hadn’t spoken to you. Not since you’d confessed your love to him yesterday. 

“No.” He shook his head. “What’s happened?”

“I know I’m not strictly a profiler but I like to think I’d mastered the basics. But I had no idea.” Garcia was spiralling. 

“Had no idea about what?” Spencer was desperate to get it out of her. 

“Well, when she first RSVP’d for today she only sent back three invites.” 

“Ok?” Spencer frowned. 

“Her, Adie and Fin.” 

“So Jared must be working.”

“That’s what I thought.” Garcia nodded.

“But?” Spencer asked slightly frustratedly. 

“You know me, I like answers. I like having all the facts, just like you.” She started pacing. “So, I asked her about it and she was super vague.” 

“Vague how?” Spencer watched her march up and down. 

“She said Jared wouldn’t be around, which is innocuous enough I hear you cry. But it didn’t sit right with me. It didn’t feel right.” She sounded exasperated. 

“Penelope,” Spencer stepped in front of her so she couldn’t keep pacing and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Please spit it out.” 

She huffed loudly and somewhat childishly. 

“Spence, I did some digging.” Her face paled a little and Spencer was suddenly terrified by what she might have found. 

“And?” He swallowed, lowering his arms to his sides. 

“I found a police report from five days ago. DC Metro was dispatched to 184 Calvert Street after an eight year old girl called the cops when she heard a gun shot.” Garcia’s face paled as she spoke, so did Spencer’s. 

“You…but I…” he swallowed, wobbling on his feet. “That’s Y/N house.” 

“Duh,” Penelope rolled her eyes. “Adie called the police when she heard the gun go off. In her statement she told them that she found her dad with a gun in his hand and his other wrapped around her mom’s throat.” 

Spencer’s colour somehow drained even further as he glared at Penelope. 

“Y/N got shot? But she was at work the next day. I remember it was the day I got back from teaching.” His heart rate increased dangerously so. He felt it beating all throughout his body. 

“According to the reports no one was seriously hurt. The bullet hit the wall. Bruises on her neck could have been covered by make-up.” Penelope tried to calm him before he got too worked up. 

“And Adie saw it?” 

“Oh that poor sweet angel. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.” 

“Fin?” Spencer swallowed

“Was in bed. You know what a sound sleeper he is.” Garcia smiled sadly. 

“So what exactly happened?”

“The police arrived pretty fast, looks like within a few minutes. Adie, being the smart cookie she is, informed the police dispatcher that her mom is an FBI Agent so they were quick on the scene. From what I’ve managed to piece together, Jared wrestled her gun out of her holster and shot at the wall. Adie heard raised voices, and an argument ensued and he got Y/N up against the wall by her throat.

Cops took them in for questioning, he was arrested but given the chance to post bail for which he couldn’t afford and Y/N, thank god, did not pay it. So now he’s in jail awaiting trial. If he’s found guilty he could be looking at anywhere up to twenty five years for attempted murder.” 

Spencer closed his eyes, ruminating on every single one of Penelope’s words. He should have known it would come to this. He should have tried harder to get you to open up about what was going on at home. 

It never should have gotten this far. 

“Fuck,” he shook his head, opening his eyes again. 

“Why don’t you seem all that surprised by this?” Garcia had her eyebrow cocked.

Spencer looked past her a moment, out across the lawns beyond the patio. He’d tried so hard to convince you that you could trust him, that he could help you. 

He should have tried harder. Goddamnit he should have tried harder. 

***

2019

It had been a long time since Spencer had gotten a chance to spend any real time with you and he tried to make the most of it despite the fact your head was clearly elsewhere. 

He was sure he knew what it was that was going on. Ever since he’d seen that burn on your arm he’d been sure of it. But no matter how many times he tried to talk to you about it, you always denied it. 

You’d gone to the movies and for coffee but you kept checking your phone every few minutes, clearly distracted by something. 

You’d been quiet, you’d been quiet a lot lately. He’d hoped getting to spend one on one time with you would help you open up. 

He’d done all the talking, rambling at times because you wouldn’t engage him with more than a few words at a time. Even when he’d asked about the kids you’d simply replied, “yeah, they’re good.” 

Tucked away in the back of the coffee shop you checked the time again, tapping your fingers on the table. 

“Am I keeping you from something?” Spencer finally asked, a hint of frustration in his voice. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I just told Jared I’d be home by four and I don’t want to be late.” 

“You have a curfew now?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You snapped. 

“He doesn’t trust you to spend too much time with me, is that it?” Spencer leaned forward on the table. 

He saw something flicker behind your eyes before you tried to disguise it by taking a sip of coffee. 

“He does know you’re with me, doesn’t he?” Spencer narrowed his eyes on you. 

“He…I…no.” You shrugged. “He thinks I’m out with Penelope.” 

“You’re lying to your husband about who you’re hanging out with?” 

“He doesn’t…he doesn’t like you.” You confessed. 

“You’re a grown woman, Y/N.” He scoffed. “He tells you who you can and can’t hang out with?” 

“It’s not like that.” You huffed. 

“And if he found out you were here with me, what would he do?” Spencer leaned even further forward, like he might pounce across the table at you. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You wouldn’t meet his eye. 

“Would he burn you again?” 

“Stop it.” You spat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Or would he just hit you? Bruise you?”

“Stop it.” 

“I’ve seen the bruises, Y/N! No one is that clumsy, least of all you.” His eyes turned sad as he reached across the table for your hand. It broke his heart the way you flinched. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because it's not that simple.” You growled. “I’m begging you to leave this alone, Spencer.” 

“Y/N if he’s abusive just say the word and we can have him arrested.” 

“Spencer, I have children. It’s not just black and white.” 

“Does he hurt them? Does that asshole hurt my god children?” Spencer squeezed your hand. 

“Of course he doesn’t.” You hissed. “I would never let him lay a finger on them. If he ever touched my kids I would kick his ass to the curb.” 

“But you’ll let him hurt you?” He shook his head. 

“Spencer, marriage is complicated.” 

“Oh please, like I couldn’t possibly understand.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I have two kids who worship the ground their father walks on. He is an amazing dad, Spencer. I don’t want them to grow up without him.” You snatched your hand back from under his. 

“But you want them to grow up without you?” He frowned. “Because that's how this is going to end. Do you know four thousand women die every year at the hands of an abusive spouse? The presence of a gun in the house increases the risk of homicide by five hundred percent.” 

“And out of those four thousand, seventy five percent of those victims were killed whilst trying to leave their partner.” You spat back. “Do you not think I’ve thought about that? Spencer, just leave this alone. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I can help you.”

“No, Spencer, you can’t. And if you tell anyone about this, I will deny it. And without me willing to press charges, you’ll only make things worse. I am begging you to leave this alone.” You got to your feet. 

“You expect me to just sit by and watch while he hurts you?” He whined a little. 

“I’m asking you to just let it go. Please. I’ve got it under control. Stop trying to be a hero.” 

He couldn’t do anything but watch you go. And he hated himself for not doing something to help you. 

***

Present Day

“I knew he was violent. I knew he was abusing her. I could never get her to do anything about it.” Spencer admitted, shaking his head at his own stupidity. 

“He’s hurt her before?” Penelope pouted. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nodded sadly. “More than a few times.” 

“Do you think he’s ever hurt those poor sweet children?” Penelope’s lip quivered. 

“No, she said if he ever laid a hand on them she’d leave.” He inhaled sharply. “Fuck, he’s in jail.” 

“He surely is, boy wonder.” Penelope grabbed him by the bicep. “He can’t hurt her again. Don’t blame yourself, giant brain. This isn’t your fault.” 

“I could have stopped it.” He raked his fingers through his hair which he’d spent hours sweeping neatly back off of his face. 

“No one could have stopped it.” She squeezed his arm. 

“I could have. If I’d just been honest with her all those years ago.” 

“Honest about what?” Garcia’s eyebrows knitted together. 

“She asked me…” he trailed off and swallowed thickly. “She asked me when she got engaged, and on her wedding day, if I thought she was marrying the right man. I didn’t answer her. I should have. I should have told her he wasn’t the man she should be marrying.” 

“You couldn’t have known then that this was going to happen. Reid, you can’t beat yourself up over this.” 

“You don’t get it.” He shook his head, dislodging his arm from her firm grip. “I should have told her he wasn’t the man she should be marrying, because the man she should have married is me.” 

Penelope’s mouth fell open and her eyebrows furrowed deeper. She eyed him curiously, like she was trying to complete a complex puzzle and he’d just handed her the missing piece but she had no idea what to do with it. 

“You…? I don’t understand.” 

“I have been inconceivably in love with Y/N since the first moment I met her. For fifteen years. If I’d not been so scared of telling her, maybe she would have never married that asshole.” He shook his head in frustration. 

Penelope opened her mouth to speak but before she could, someone else did. 

“Wow,” the voice cracked and Spencer spun quickly towards the sound. 

“Max,” he drew his lip between his teeth. “Max I am so-”

“Don’t.” She shook her head. “I heard enough.”

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. 

“Yeah, me too.” She spat, turning on her heels and rushing back in the direction she’d just come. 

As she fled, she almost ran right into someone but kept her head down to shield the fact she was crying. 

You stumbled a little on your heels as you narrowly avoided Max, one hand on each of your kids backs as you guided them outside. 

You looked over your shoulder Max and then between Spencer and Penelope. 

“What did I miss?” 

***

Five Days Prior

The house was deathly silent when you entered through the front door a little after eleven pm. You knew from past experience silence in your home was never good. 

You’d just arrived back from a case in Lewiston, Maine where women were being killed in houses believed to be haunted. 

It had been long and gruelling, cases without Spencer usually were. Since prison and his agreement to mandated leave days, things hadn’t been the same on the team. 

He was due back tomorrow and at least that meant the cases might move a little faster. 

You dropped your go bag on the floor by the door. The kids would be asleep and you were sure you would find your husband in the kitchen with a drink in his hand. 

You knew this would be bad. You were prepared for it to be bad. You’d unclipped your holster but didn’t put your firearm in the safe like usual. You weren’t taking any chances. 

Before leaving for Maine things had reached breaking point. You’d been getting Adeline ready for bed, tucking her in when she’d startled you by grabbing you by the arm. 

She proceeded to push your cardigan down one arm, revealing a large purple bruise on your shoulder, spreading down towards your collarbone. But it was her words that shocked you more. 

“Daddy did that, didn’t he?” 

“Wh-what?” You were quick to pull your sleeve back up. “What makes you think that, sweet pea?” 

“I saw him. I saw him shove you. And it’s not the first time.” 

It transpired your extremely smart eight year old had been privy to her fathers dark side. She regaled you of how many times she’d witnessed Jared pushing you around, screaming at you until you cried. 

She’d concluded by telling you she wouldn’t be sad if you left him. And maybe that was all the impetus you needed. 

You stayed with Jared, put up with his violence for your children. You’d always told yourself as long as it didn’t affect them you could stay. 

But now it had affected them, Adie at least. And that was the final straw. 

You’d packed a bag before you left for Maine. You’d planned to wait until Jared was at work and you and the kids were going to stay with David Rossi. 

You didn’t tell him why and thankfully he didn’t ask. But you felt the most safe at his home, given all the security you knew you and the kids could stay there until you figured out your next move. 

But before you had the chance, Jared figured you out. 

This morning you’d received a text from your husband with a photo of your bag and the simple question: where the fuck do you think you’re going? 

As you slowly headed towards the kitchen, you were reminded of a conversation with Spencer last year in the coffee shop. 

“Do you know four thousand women die every year at the hands of an abusive spouse? The presence of a gun in the house increases the risk of homicide by five hundred percent.”

“And out of those four thousand, seventy five percent of those victims were killed whilst trying to leave their partner.”

Your heart rattled in your chest and you felt your stomach coiling into tight knots. One way or another tonight was going to be the end, whether because you made it out of the house or because Jared killed you.

Your hand hovered above your firearm as you crossed the room towards the kitchen. You pushed open the door and held your breath. 

Your bag was in the centre of the kitchen island, Jared looming over it, a glass of scotch in his hand. When he saw you, he downed the contents and slammed the glass so violently on the counter top it smashed in his hand.

He didn’t even seem to notice. 

“Jared, before you say anything I-”

“Shut up.” He spat, not raising his voice. Not yet. “You don’t get to speak. Planning on leaving me, huh? What was the plan, Y/N? You take my kids away and you think I won’t come after them? You think I’d let you get away with taking my kids?” 

“I don’t want them to grow up with a father who is a bully.” You stood your ground, hand still hovering over the butt of your gun.

“I’ve never laid a hand on them.” He snarled. 

“But Adie has seen what you do to me. I don’t want them to have to witness that. What kind of example am I setting for my little girl if I let a man push me around?” You clenched your jaw.

“Adie isn’t a bitch like you.” He started towards you slowly. “She wouldn’t need a man to put her in her place.” 

You refused to show him fear. If this was where it ended you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Just let me go. Let us go.” 

“Please,” he scoffed. “So you can go and play happy families with Reid?” 

“It’s not like that.” You rolled your eyes. 

He got closer and you found yourself backing up. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday.” He advanced on you until your back hit the wall and he was towering over you. 

“This has nothing to do with Spencer.” You tried to insist, fingers brushing your gun. “The fact of the matter is, I don’t love you anymore, Jared. Not like I used to. How can I love someone who treats me the way you do? I’ve let this go on long enough. You’ve hurt me too many times.”

Out of nowhere your tears started to fall, thick and heavy as they rolled down your cheeks. You hadn’t even realised you were going to cry. 

“Only because I love you, sweetheart.” He smiled menacingly at you. 

“I put men like you away for a living. I shouldn’t have fallen victim to this.” Your eyes clouded with tears, you could barely see him and they felt like they burnt as they rolled down your cheeks. 

“You need putting in your place sometimes. You’re too sensitive.” He raised his hand and wrapped it tightly around your bicep, squeezing so hard you knew he’d leave yet another bruise. 

“Please let me go.” You whimpered, unable to keep up your strong facade. “Please?” 

“Baby, I will never let you go. I love you, we belong together.” He let go of your bicep and his hand moved to your face. 

He gripped your jaw in his hand, forcing his lips on yours. You tried to push him away with one hand while the other wrapped around the butt of your gun. 

“Stop it!” You cried while he kissed you. “Stop it, Jared!” 

He tore his lips away from you and looked at you through dark eyes. Then his gaze wandered. You felt the exact moment he noticed your hand on your gun. 

“You gonna shoot me, Y/N?” He scoffed. “You’d kill the father of your children?” 

Spencer’s words rang clear in your head. 

The presence of a gun in the house increases the risk of homicide by five hundred percent. 

As you went to draw your weapon his large hand was on top of yours, squeezing your fingers into a vice like grip until you howled in pain and your hold on the gun faltered. 

He managed to wrestle the gun free of your holster and draw it. He pointed the barrel right at your head for a brief moment before shifting its aim slightly to the left and pulling the trigger. 

You screamed as the gun went off and the bullet flew past your face and into the kitchen wall. He refocused it on you while you trembled with sobs. 

Spencer was right. This is how I’m going to die. 

“Please, Jared. Put the gun down. You don’t want to do this.” You held your hands up, trying to keep your breathing measured. 

It wasn’t as though it was the first time you’d had to stare down the barrel of a gun, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying. Least of all because it was your husband pointing it at you. 

You were trained in negotiating with psychopaths but all your knowledge went out of the window. All you could think about was how you were going to die and that the kids would no doubt have to find your body. 

“Please. Think of the kids. Think of Adie and Fin. Please don’t let them grow up without a mother.” Tears continued to roll down your cheeks at an alarming rate. 

Jared scoffed, gun still levelled at you. 

“You were going to let them grow up without me! You were going to leave and take them away!” He yelled. 

“I won’t, I swear. Just put the gun down and I promise we won’t leave. We can still be a family.” Your body trembled viciously as he took a step closer to you. 

“What does he have that I don’t?” He growled at you, moving closer until the gun was pressing against your forehead. 

“Wh-what? Who?” 

“Spencer!” He spat. “You’re sleeping with him aren’t you?” 

“Of course I’m not.” You shook your head, the cool metal jabbing into your skull. 

“Liar!” He used his other hand to grab your bicep again, making you wince. “Tell me the truth!” 

“One time.” You sobbed. “It happened one time.” 

Jared’s eyes turned darker but he lowered the gun to his side. His jaw pulsed as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. 

“I’m sorry.” You cried. “I'm so sorry.” 

“You fucked another man?” He hissed. “And you wonder why I don’t like you being around him!” 

His free hand raised and you flinched thinking he was going to hit you. Instead his palm came down against your throat, lightly at first. But it wasn’t long before he was tightening his grip, fingers digging into your neck while he put pressure on your trachea. 

The gun hung from his other hand and you felt it knocking against your leg. Maybe you could take him off guard, grab it while he was focused elsewhere. 

“You were going to leave me for him? Have him raise our kids?” He squeezed and you choked, fighting for air. 

“N-no.” You whimpered. “It wasn’t like that.” 

“Do you have feelings for him?” He used his grip on you to slam your head back against the wall. “Do you love him?” 

“Yes.” You confessed, unable to stop the word leaving your lips. And then you stupidly followed it up with, “he’s ten times the man you’ll ever be.” 

Jared snarled and his grip got firmer, his large hand able to wrap almost the entire way around your throat. His fingers dug painfully into your flesh while his palm constricted your breathing.

“You fucking bitch.” He spat. “If I can’t have you, no one can. I’m doing this because I love you.” 

You closed your eyes, unable to fight for those breaths you so sorely needed to refill your lungs anymore. Instead you resided yourself to it, knowing nothing you could do or say would make this better. 

Jared was going to kill you. 

You started going light headed, as he shook you by your neck, violently choking you. It wouldn’t take long before your lack of oxygen caused you to pass out. 

You thought of your kids. You pictured little Fin and Adie being raised by this man. What would become of your two happy children if they lost their mother this way?

You thought of Spencer and the night you’d spent together and how you should have told him how you felt then. Or how you should have told him how you felt fifteen years ago. Life was painfully short, you shouldn’t have wasted a minute not being honest about your feelings. 

You felt yourself ebbing towards unconsciousness, knowing it was only a matter of time. Maybe it would have been better to let him shoot you, at least it would have been faster. 

Somewhere in the house you swore you heard a door open. But your head was hazy, you barely registered it. You just prayed your children wouldn’t witness this. 

And then everything happened so fast. 

A voice entered your ears, male, not one you recognised. But you couldn’t work out what they were saying. 

“Sir, step away. Put the gun down.” 

Then the grip on your throat loosened and you were able to gasp for air, your shaky legs barely holding you upright. 

You clutched your chest, using the wall to balance yourself. You blinked several times to focus your vision.

Two uniformed officers, DC Metro insignia on their breast pockets. One male, one female. The man held a gun, the woman was slapping cuffs on your husband's wrists. 

“Ma’am?” The man holstered his weapon, stepping closer to you. “Ma’am I’m Officer Joseph Leakes, this is my partner Officer Maddie Burnett.” 

You nodded but closed your eyes, a wave of dizziness washing over. You stumbled on your feet and then you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

You flinched involuntarily and opened your eyes to see Officer Burnett now in front of you instead of Leakes. She was smiling softly at you, she had kind brown eyes. 

Right, I’m a victim of domestic violence, don’t let the man touch me. Good call, you thought in an absent mind. 

Burnett led you over to a chair at the kitchen counter while she exchanged a glance with Leakes who was tugging your husband by the cuffed wrists towards the door. 

“It’s all a misunderstanding!” Jared tried to fight the cop off. “Tell them Y/N! Tell them it’s all a mistake! They got it wrong!”

You simply blinked in response. 

A glass of water was in front of you somehow and Burnett was still smiling at you. 

“Mrs Haines?” She asked softly. You shuddered.

“Never…never changed my name.” You shook your head. “Y/N, please.” 

The officer nudged the glass of water closer to you and you wrapped your shaky hands around it. 

“Are you ok? Do you need medical attention?” The kind eyed cop asked now. 

“No.” You slowly raised your glass to your lips but before you could sip you put it back down again. “M-my kids? Where are my k-kids?” 

You glanced around the room, needing to see your beautiful children and make sure they were ok. 

You felt a small hand on your arm and blinked rapidly to try and clear the fog from your brain. 

Your eyes met your daughters and you quickly threw your arms around her. 

“Adie!” You sobbed. “Oh baby girl.” 

“It’s ok mommy.” She sniffled, burying her head against your chest. “It’s ok. He can’t hurt you anymore.” 

“You have a very brave little girl.” Burnett spoke somewhere from over your shoulder. “She called 9-1-1 when she heard a gunshot.” 

You pulled back from the embrace and cupped her little face, staring intently at her.

“Did I do good, mommy?” She looked up at you through her large eyes. 

“Oh sweet pea,” you choked on another sob, throwing your arms back around your daughter. “You did so good.” 

***

Burnett took your statement once you were able to focus your mind again and she also took Adie’s statement. Fin, gratefully, slept through the whole ordeal. 

A CSU tech arrived later and took photographs of your neck, of the bullet lodged in the wall and collected evidence from your gun. 

Before leaving Burnett told you Jared would be detained. He would most likely be offered the chance to post bail. 

When he’d lost his job, finances had been tight. You’d tried to squirrel away what you could and opened a separate bank account in your own name during that time. Burnett informed you that if your money was in an account solely in your name you would have the choice whether you paid his bail or not. If the money remained in a joint account he could access it to foot the bill.

First thing in the morning you were going to transfer all of your money over to your own bank account and ensure Jared didn’t have the opportunity to come back and finish the job he started. 

She said she would do everything she could to help you keep Jared away, she even left you her personal cell number. Unfortunately you knew all about the way in which the state of Virginia tended to side with men in these instances, despite physical proof. 

Once Burnett left you spent several hours on the couch with Adie in your lap, stroking back her hair and rocking her like you did when she was a baby. 

You had no idea the kind of trauma this would cause her, you would no doubt have to look into getting her therapy before what she’d seen went untreated. You’d been seeing a therapist yourself for the last year on and off due to your anxiety which had been brought on as a result of Jared’s tempered mood swings. 

You’d speak to Adie about it another day. Right now you were content in holding your daughter. 

Eventually she fell asleep in your arms, you were grateful she was able to. You carried her to bed and kissed her forehead when you tucked her in. You checked on Fin before heading towards your own bedroom. 

Stepping inside that room everything caught up on you. The bed in which Jared had forced you into more times than you could count, the subtle dents in the walls where he’d thrown things at you. 

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the dresser. Your neck was covered with a fresh array of bruises, red and angry and in the distinctive shape of fingers. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d had to cover marks and blemishes with make-up, but this would be harder than most. 

And out of nowhere your legs gave way and you crumbled to the floor as a new fit of sobs wracked your body. 

It felt like the world's longest night and it was only just the beginning. It was going to be an arduous uphill battle if you were to keep Jared away from you and protect your kids. 

But you didn’t have the strength to think of any of that right now. You curled up in a ball and sobbed on the floor of your bedroom for what felt like hours. 

Without really thinking, you found your cell phone still in your pocket and your fingers moved of their own accord as you brought up your contacts, dialled his number and put the device to your ears.

You counted the rings. Eight in total. Eight rings before it clicked over to voicemail and his outgoing message flooded your ears. For a moment it provided you comfort. But then you started sobbing all over again. 

“Hello, you’ve reached Doctor Spencer Reid. I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave me a message and I will get back to you.” 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dirtytissuebox @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @frostandflamesfanfic @pixiehex1985 @release-your-sweets @mavel-fan-for-life @megan-mars

[orobaxis]

Hi!!!

Could I request ominis x reader where maybe he’s a little down? And reader comforts him?

Thank uuuuuu

safe with us

ominis gaunt x reader

warnings: adult ominis + reader, marriage, a baby; very short!

-

ominis wakes up from his nightmare with a jolt, his body sitting himself up from bed and the wand by his side raised in instinct. it felt so real. it’s hard to discern where he is, but he feels somewhat chastised that there is no screaming, no howls of pain, nor sounds of evil and demented laughter. now to find out where he is.

he starts to breathe, calming his heart from beating too fast in his chest. when his ragged breathing quiets down, all he hears is the calm, steady breaths next to him. he slowly reaches a hand and feels skin. an arm. ominis’ hand travels upward and touches the face of the person next to him.

familiar, beautiful.

it’s you.

he sighs in relief at that, hand still on your cheek. you are still in the throes of sleep, not even noticing that he is awake, and you unconsciously bury your head further into the pillow, a small smile on your face that ominis definitely feels against his hand.

“it was just a dream,” he convinces himself. he wasn’t there anymore, with that horrible family. he’s with you.

you slowly wake when you lose the feel of his warm, comforting hand on your skin. squinting, you see your husband awake and sitting next to you. “love?” you call out, voice raspy from sleep. ominis sighs at the sound of your voice, something more prominent and tangible, real.

“i didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologizes, head turned away. “i just…”

“did you have another nightmare?”

he says nothing, but nods. you sit up from your side now, scooting on your knees so you can situate yourself behind him. you bring your arms around him, making sure he can feel you and know that this is real, he isn’t back there, he is here, with you. safe and happy.

“i dreamt i was with them again. the gaunts. that they started hurting you and her,” ominis shakes his head. “it felt so real.” his voice cracks as he looks down.

gently, you bring one hand to rub the expanse of his back, resting your cheek against it. the nightmares started coming back, especially now. it might be due to some sleep deprivation, seeing as you didn’t even notice him jolting awake beside you when you are usually not that deep a sleeper. slowly, ominis turns to you, and you let him wrap his arms around your frame. he leans in to rest his forehead on yours, and you reach to wipe some tears off his cheeks.

“do you want to hold her?” you ask him, “just to feel her presence?”

your husband nods, almost enthusiastically.

noctua is fast asleep in the adjoining room. such a tiny, happy baby. chubby arms and cheeks and so giggly. you lead ominis to her crib, where he reaches for her and holds her in his arms. she doesn’t wake, but burrows her face to his chest, enjoying her father’s smell.

“i can’t bear the thought of them finding you and her,” he tells you, “and having them hurt little noctua.”

“they won’t find us,” you reassure him, hand coming to cup his own that was supporting noctua’s head. “noctua’s gonna grow up none the wiser, just a happy little baby spoiled by her dad.”

ominis grins at that, running a finger over her soft baby cheek. “i’ll make sure you’re both safe. i promise.” his daughter shifts a bit, gurgling before her lips stretch into a small smile. you smile too, resting your cheek on your husband’s shoulder, and enjoy the moment.

they never find you.

-

my tiktoks are slowly filling with seb and ominis stuff (i love it and ily all! you all have been so kind to me!) <3

[seireitonin]

Two sides of the same coin: Toby and Nina

(Wrote this to show there is overlap and similarities and differences as well, between BPD and ASPD and while they are disorders it doesn’t mean that people in the cluster B personality type can’t love and improve as people to be in healthy relationships. We’re not evil. We are flawed. Based Nina off my own BPD experience and Toby I did a lot of research on ASPD and tried to write it as accurately and respectfully as possible. If I did something wrong please lmk)

Toby and Nina an are the same, yet different. Toby has ASPD. Nina has BPD. Their overlap and differences make each other feel understood, but at times isolated. Toby is impulsive and so is Nina. Toby is impulsive in the sense that he doesn’t care about his own safety and does what he wants when he wants if he sees fit. Nina’s impulses come from wanting instant gratification and pleasure in the moment. The two of them overlap with each other often. Both participate in impulsive, self destructive drug use on occasion, one not caring about his wellbeing and the other not caring about the consequences. Just the current moment of joy that she knows will pass because she’s always empty. Both experience emotional irregularities. More overlap presenting itself in different ways. Toby presents his emotions as if he’s better than Nina sometimes. Sometimes he says stuff that’s hurtful, especially when he’s intensely upset. Nina’s emotions can result in random outbursts of anger especially if she thinks Toby is trying to abandon her. Sometimes she says stuff she doesn’t mean too. They don’t mean to hurt each other, but unfortunately sometimes they do. Toby has become Nina’s everything. Her favorite person. The thought of Toby abandoning her or not loving her like she loves him sometimes makes her spiral. Toby sometimes comes across like he doesn’t care or is indifferent to her. But that’s not true. He loves her and has put in the work and effort to love her. He just has trouble expressing it sometimes. Nina feels intense emotions and sometimes can’t express them properly either, sometimes she comes off as clingy and obsessive, but she’s hurting and scared of being abandoned or not valued. Not only because she gets so overwhelmed, but sees the world in black and white and can’t describe everything she’s feeling. They had a screaming match once and only once. When they flow they flow. When they clash, they clash. Toby was so frustrated that Nina thinks he doesn’t love her. Like she’s invalidating his efforts. Nina was frustrated that he wasn’t taking him being her favorite person seriously. Like he saw her as a burden. “Why can’t you see I’m trying,Nina?! I’m doing my best and you just don’t care!” “No you don’t care! You see me as a burden don’t you?! You don’t really love me! You’re using me like Jeff!” “Don’t you ever compare me to him! I love you! You’re just too fucking stupid to see it!” Her eyes widened and tears streamed down her face. Toby didn’t understand at first. Why was she upset by that? She was being stupid. He loves her. “You….think…I’m…stupid?” Nina just ran away and locked herself in the bedroom, spiraling and splitting. “He hates me. He never loved me. I’m worthless. No one will ever love me.” That’s all that played through her head. Toby picks the lock and sits on the bed facing away from her. “I didn’t mean it like that. Okay? You’re not a burden to me.” He didn’t mean to hurt her but he did. Nina hated him right now. He went from angel to monster. “Don’t give up on me okay? I’ll never give up on you, Nina. I’m….sorry” It took him a while to understand how and why what he said hurt her. But he took accountability for what he said. A long way from the person he was before. “Don’t leave me Toby. I need you” Nina whimpered out. “I dont want to, moody girl” He holds out his hand so she could play with his fingers for comfort. She does just that. They’re not perfect. They both come from pasts of hurt and heartbreak. But the last thing they’ll do is take it out on each other. They will always try to be better for each other and themselves.

[onceuponastory]

if you believe in me - the winter soldier x reader

Part 2 of my Ghost Story AU - Read the previous part here.

Plot: Y/N and Bucky flee her grandma’s house, and with the help of Steve and Sam, soon make it back to Avengers HQ, to safety. And there, Y/N learns the truth. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, violence/abuse, trauma, blood, pain, torture, brainwashing, weapons, and everything Bucky did as the Winter Soldier, and had done to him by HYDRA. Please use your own discretion. As always if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is the very requested part two to my fic Ghost Story, so please read that first if you haven’t already. Thank you for loving this story so much and for wanting to see more! Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Ready?” Bucky smiles. And without even thinking about it, Y/N nods. Even though they've only known each other for about a week, she’d follow him anywhere. 

“Okay. We’ll get the jet sorted. Wheels up in less than two hours. We’ll be back at HQ by tomorrow morning.” Sam explains. And then, Y/N and Bucky are alone again.

“How are you feeling about all this?” She asks, and Bucky raises a brow.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one who’s had your whole life upended for the second time already. Sorry about that, by the way.” Y/N shrugs.

“Bucky.” She soothes. “You don’t have to be sorry. I understand why you did it. You were terrified of going back to HYDRA and thought I posed a threat. You were just trying to protect yourself.” Bucky nods. But he still feels awful about scaring her so badly, and making her think for even a second that her life was in jeopardy. At least now he knows that Y/N could never hurt him. Honestly, he doesn’t think she has an evil bone in her body. Not like him, with all the blood he has on his hands. No matter how much he tries to repent, that blood will still be there. He’s always going to be the Winter Soldier. A murderer. “Well, your life has completely changed in less than an hour. You’re going home with your friends who love and care about you. It’s probably a lot to take in.” Y/N continues. And she’s right. Honestly, Bucky feels like he just got his old life back, handed to him on a silver platter. Or at least, he’s on the steps to it. “I’m glad you’ve got it back, Bucky.” She’s so kind. Even when he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Honestly, he’s not quite ready to live this new life yet. At least, not without Y/N. She’s a big part of his life now, too. 

Yet, he notices that there’s something troubling her.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing.” He can tell that she doesn’t want to take away from his happy moment with his friends by talking about her problems. But Bucky wants her to know how incredibly grateful he is to her, and that she means a lot to him. And that includes her feelings and her worries. 

He doesn’t know what angel was looking down on him the day he found Y/N’s grandmother’s house, but he’s so glad that they were. After all, if it wasn’t for Y/N, he wouldn’t have his life back. She saved his life.

“Y/N. It’s okay. Just tell me the truth. We’ve been through a lot already, remember?” He points out, and Y/N chuckles. Some may find it strange that they’re laughing about everything they’ve been through, but he already feels close enough to her to do so. And that’s why he’s even more glad that she’s coming with them.

“I just.” She sighs, still clearly unwilling to admit her feelings. Yet, when Bucky prompts her further, she explains. “I feel weird about leaving all my grandmother’s stuff here. It’s the main reason I came here after all. What if you’re right, and HYDRA comes looking for us? I don’t want it being destroyed. That's all I have left of her.” Bucky nods. He understands her worries, of course. If there was anything that reminded him of his past, he’d want to keep it safe too. He just wishes there was something to remind him of his old life, when he was still Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier. But since he can’t do that, the least he can do is help Y/N keep her grandmother’s memory alive.

“Well, how about you bring a few things with you, and I’ll help you put some stuff away and hide it? And once this is all done, I promise that we’ll come back and get her stuff. Whatever you want, and whatever you need. Just us two.” Y/N nods, smiling softly. Although that’s all she wants, she knows that Bucky’s just trying to keep her morale up. Honestly, she’s not holding out much hope for her grandmother’s things if HYDRA does come knocking, whether they’re hidden or not. Ideally, she’d stay here, keeping them safe whilst trying to live as normal a life as possible. She knows there’s no way Bucky can promise something like that.

Yet, she appreciates Bucky’s effort to cheer her up all the same. Because she knows the alternative is much worse than what he’s proposing. And besides, she knows that when it comes down to it, her life is worth more than some photographs. And of course, her grandma would’ve wanted her to stay alive too. “Just us two.” Bucky’s voice echoes in her mind. Deep down, she hopes that will be their future. Her and Bucky, just like it was before.

“Okay.” She nods. “That sounds good.”

Despite the cramped jet, Y/N is glad to be on the way to safety. Or at least, what she hopes is safety. During the ride, there is mostly silence with the occasional bit of small talk here and there. But Y/N is glad to be sitting in silence. Being in such close proximity to Captain America and the Falcon is making her heart race already, let alone the thought of making small talk with them. Y/N looks at the lights below as the sky darkens, once again realising how different her life has become since going through everything with Bucky. She’ll never be able to return to a normal life after this. Whatever ‘normal’ is now. What if HYDRA hunts them down for the rest of their lives? What if she can never go home again? …Wherever her home is now, that is.

But despite that, she’s glad that she and Bucky have been brought closer together. They’ve really made a connection, despite how they met. And at least she’s going through this new and unfamiliar experience with him. After all, she trusts him. 

Some time later, Bucky glances over, checking on Y/N. She’s asleep, softly snoring as her chest slowly rises and falls. He smiles, watching her for a little while. It reminds him of the night she took care of him, cleaned his wounds, and made him some food. That night was the night everything changed, and he started to see Y/N in a new light, as a carer rather than a danger to him. Maybe, Bucky thinks, he was wrong. When he said an angel was looking down on him when he found Y/N’s grandma’s house… maybe Y/N was the angel all along, sent to show him that there’s still good in the world after everything he went through.

The morning after, he had woken up feeling more refreshed than he ever had before. And then, he noticed Y/N fast asleep in the armchair beside him. Without even thinking about it, he had wrapped a blanket around her. Even thought it was a small gesture, it was the least he could do after all she had done for him. After that, he didn’t even focus on his mission, or make sure that HYDRA wasn’t tracking them. He just watched her. Making sure she was okay. She seemed so at peace, compared to the first time they met. As the sun rose and its golden glow shone on her face, Bucky registered his heart beating ever so slightly faster. And this time, it wasn’t because of fear. He’s started to get that feeling a lot more, he’s realised. At least, whenever Y/N is around.

But before he has time to dwell too much on that feeling, Steve interrupts with a “We’ll be there in about an hour.” Sighing, Bucky nods, and his stomach begins to churn. God knows what awaits him when they land, when he’s brought back in front of the Avengers after killing so many innocent civilians. Of course, Steve and Sam reassured him they would stand by him and explain that it wasn’t his fault, but Bucky knows it won’t make much difference. Controlled or not, he still did it. He looks back over at Y/N, still fast asleep and completely unaware of just how deep this goes… and all the violence that Bucky is capable of. 

Ideally, she’d never know, because Bucky doesn’t want Y/N to be afraid ever again, especially not of him. He doesn’t want to lose her, either. She’s done so much good for him, more than he could ever deserve, and he’ll protect her from everything bad in the world.

Even him.

Avengers HQ, Y/N soon learns, is a lot bigger than she expected. As soon as they arrive, someone takes Steve and Sam away for questioning. And with that, she's also reminded of just how unimportant she is compared to her companions. An innocent civilian who had her life turned upside down overnight, someone who doesn’t fit in this life full of superheroes and secret agents. As people mill about the building, looking at her curiously, she wonders what they’re thinking, and what’s going to happen to her. 

“Are they going to want to question me, too?” Bucky shrugs.

“Maybe. Steve and Sam are the Avengers, so they’re the ones who are in high demand right now.” But before Y/N can say much else, a group of guards suddenly swarms the pair. Two of them grab Bucky’s arms.

“Sir, come with us.” One of them orders.

“Wait, what’s going on?!” Y/N calls, trying to jump in and stop them. Steve and Sam hear her cries and come rushing. Yet, the guards ignore her and start dragging Bucky away. And the whole time, Bucky doesn’t fight it. Instead, he gazes back at Y/N sadly. And then, he just lets them take him. “Bucky!” Y/N calls after him. She tries to go after him, to make sure that he’s alright… but a guard angrily gets in her face.

“Ma’am. Move back, or we will make you move.” He snaps, the heat of his breath against her skin making her flinch. 

“But-” Yet, before she can plead Bucky’s case any further, Steve steps in, gently pulling her back.

“I understand, sir. I-I’m sorry.” Y/N tries to wriggle out of his grasp, to run after Bucky down the hallway, but Steve’s firm grasp on her arm stops her.

“Steve, where are they taking him?!” she demands. Steve sighs, his shoulders slumping. For a moment, the first time she met Steve flashes in her mind. His tall, confident pose, the image of a hero. Now, he looks the complete opposite. He can’t even look her in the eyes.

“He’s going into a holding cell, Y/N.”

“Why is he in a cell? Have they taken him into custody?”  When she sees the nervous glance Steve and Sam give each other, her brow raises. 

“It’s just a precaution.” 

“For what?! Sure, he scared me at first, but he did nothing to hurt me. He’s not dangerous.” She insists. “I can go explain to them, Steve. Just let me go!” Yet, both of them are still quiet. And Y/N feels her stomach drop. “Guys…what’s going on?” Steve sighs, releasing her arm and running a hand through his hair. 

“There’s something you should know about Bucky.”

The pair sit her down first, making sure she’s comfortable. Despite knowing their actions are coming from a place of kindness, they only make her more nervous. Whatever they’re about to tell her, it can’t be good. And then, slowly, they explain everything that Bucky did whilst under HYDRA’s control. All the blood that stains his hands, and all the lives he’s destroyed. Even everything he tried to do to Steve and Sam before Steve managed to get through to him. Y/N sits there, silent as she takes everything in. 

“He told me about HYDRA, and what they did to him. Why didn’t he tell me about this?” She gasps, suddenly grateful to be sitting down. If she hadn’t have been, she swears she may have collapsed. 

“He probably didn’t want you being even more frightened, especially after he already pointed a gun at you.” Y/N takes a few breaths to calm herself down, her heartbeat racing. Although she knows she has no right to demand more information about Bucky’s trauma, she would’ve rather heard this from him, on his terms, instead of after he’s been dragged down a hallway by armed guards like some sort of animal.

“B-But it wasn’t him, was it? At least, he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He told me they wiped his memory, so they must’ve done something to make him like this, right?!” she demands, not even realising how shaky her voice is. Sure, they got off on the wrong foot at first, to put it lightly, but Bucky has been so kind to her. The idea that someone like that could be responsible for something like this…. 

And then, she remembers their first meeting, and the gun pointed directly in her face. At first, she put it down to how terrified Bucky must’ve been to hear her walking into the room, and when she learnt just what he’s been through, that confirmed it for her. All this time, she assumed he thought she was a HYDRA agent, but stopped when he realised she was just a civilian. Now, she sees it in a new light. He really was about to kill her, after all. She was a witness to him, and he was told that witnesses need to be silenced. After all, he silenced everyone else.

No wonder she thought he looked like some kind of super trained assassin. He’s been one this whole time. 

“We don’t know the full extent of what HYDRA did to him, but now we know that yes… they brainwashed him, and manipulated him into doing it. It wasn’t Bucky’s choice.” Sam confirms. Y/N nods. That makes her feel a little better about the situation, but it still doesn’t help calm her. The same fears she had when she first met Bucky, about how she was going to die and wondering just what sort of monster she was suddenly sharing her grandmother’s house with, now rear their ugly heads once more. She tries to push them down, to picture the memories she has with Bucky now. Smiling, laughing, happy times.

He’s not dangerous. He can’t be. She saw the way he looked at the world, and at her. 

“The three of us know Bucky’s not dangerous, but in the eyes of the law, he is. He killed a lot of agents too, not just civilians. So for now, he has to be treated as such.” Steve adds. Y/N doesn’t respond.

She could’ve died.

She should be dead.

But something stopped him. Somehow, she got spared.

“Look, it’s been a long day. How about we get you some food, and find a place to-”

“Why didn’t he kill me?” She asks, cutting him off. When neither of them replies, she continues. “You said it yourself. HYDRA sent him out to kill their detractors and told him not to leave any witnesses. I’m a witness. Fuck, I surprised him in his safe hiding place. He could have shot me right away without a second thought, but he didn’t.” Her voice gets louder and louder as she speaks, almost yelling.

“We don’t know either.” Steve shrugs. “Hell, I’m his oldest friend and he still tried to kill me at first, even when I told him who I was. Maybe his brainwashing was fading, and he felt safe around you. Or maybe he took pity on you.”

“You took care of him, too.” Sam points out. “That probably helped him not see you as a threat.”

Despite nodding her head in agreement with their explanations, Y/N still can’t understand why she was spared while others weren't. Sure, perhaps Bucky’s brainwashing was wearing off, and that’s why he took pity on her, but given what she’s heard about him and what he’s capable of, she’s still surprised that she survived their first encounter completely unscathed without so much as a bruise. Maybe there’s more to it, another reason she could bring him back and convince him to let her live where others failed.

And she wants to know what it is.

A few moments later, a woman approaches the trio. Her brunette hair is tied in a pristine bun, and her eyes pass over the three of them. When she reaches Y/N, her brow quirks. Y/N gulps. Here it comes. Is she going to be hauled into an interrogation room? Or arrested for knowing too much about all of this? She could make a break for it, but she’s already seen the weapons their guards carry, and she definitely does not want to be on the receiving end of them.

“Maria. Nice to see you again.” Steve chuckles. She doesn’t laugh.

“Fury wants to see you in his office. Immediately.” She states. Judging from her stance, Y/N can tell she’s important, and that she means business. In other words, do not get on her bad side. As Steve and Sam start walking, Maria raises her brow again, glancing over at Y/N. “You too.” She beckons. Quickly, Y/N follows behind them, murmuring a ‘sorry’ to Maria. 

The office is pristine, and full of tech that Y/N could only ever dream of affording. God, she definitely does not fit into this life. A figure stands at the front of the room.

“Rogers. Wilson.” He speaks, and both nod. And then, the man notices her. “You must be Y/N Y/L/N.” Y/N’s brow furrows.

“How do you-”

“I know everything there is to know.” The man replies. “I’m Director Nick Fury. I’ve heard a lot about you, and how you helped Barnes.” Still surprised, Y/N nods. Guess she has to get used to people knowing every little detail about her life now. And if the Avengers know every aspect about her life, that means HYDRA will too, if they’re looking for her. Because that’s not terrifying at all.

“I did. So, what happens now?” 

“Well, we have to monitor him for a while until we’re sure he’s not a threat. I assume Rogers and Wilson told you about the Winter Soldier?” She nods again, too afraid of saying the wrong thing. “Good. As for you, you’ll be moved into a safe house until things are under control. We’ll put agents around you to make sure nothing happens.” When she blinks in surprise, Nick’s brows furrow. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Not at all, it’s just….” She sighs. “I wasn’t expecting all this. Honestly, I didn’t realise I was worth the trouble.” She chuckles awkwardly. Nobody else laughs. When she first came here, Y/N didn't know what she expected. But it definitely wasn’t this, to have so many people trying to protect her of all people.

“Well, there isn’t much choice. You’re not an Avenger, so you can’t stay in the compound with the others.” The casual nature of his tone surprises her. As if her staying with Iron Man, Captain America, the Falcon and their friends was ever a possibility. “But you are a witness, and you’re interlinked with Barnes’ life now, arguably just as much as these two.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far-”

“To HYDRA, that makes you incredibly valuable. They want to get their soldier back, and they won’t hesitate to go after his friends to get him. And that includes you.” He insists, cutting her off. Her cheeks heat up slightly at being called Bucky’s friend. She never saw herself as that. Bucky was just a guy she was sharing her life with, and they slowly got closer to one another. Yet, after how close they’ve become, and how she followed him here with little prompting, he’s right. Obviously, part of her decision making was because she didn’t want to have to fend off a mass of HYDRA agents on her own, but the majority of it was because she didn’t want to leave Bucky. It feels like their time together has only just begun, and she wants to stay and help him with his healing journey as much as she can. Honestly, calling Bucky her friend feels right. “Understand?” Nick asks.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

As Fury continues to explain the situation and where she’ll be staying, Y/N’s mind goes back to Bucky. God knows where he is. Hopefully somewhere safe, where he can heal. What if he gets hurt? Or he gets shoved in jail and she never sees him again?

“Any questions?” Y/N takes a breath, unsure of how this is going to go. But it’s all she cares about.

“Can I see him?”

Downstairs, Bucky sits in his cell, strapped in as much and as tightly as possible for everyone’s safety. He doesn’t even know how long it’s been since they brought him here, since he saw Steve, Sam…and Y/N. Although he knows that they’re safe now, and he’s going to get what he deserves, he wishes he was back at her grandma’s house with her. Just the two of them. Sure, HYDRA was probably hunting them down, and they likely still are, but at least they were both happy together. He would have fought tooth and nail to protect her. He would fight tooth and nail to protect her.

So why didn’t he stay there, with her?

Why didn’t he fight for her?

Groaning, Bucky tries to readjust himself into a more comfortable position. Although, considering both his hands are shackled, that’s easier said than done. The metal handcuff digs uncomfortably into his skin, and he hisses in pain. Of course, he knew that after what he did, he wouldn’t be allowed to move around freely, or be entitled to any comfort. His time as an assassin is finally catching up to him. 

Right on time, he registers the guard outside murmuring something to his colleague, and then they glance back at his cell. Bucky can only pick up a few words from their conversation, but he can tell what sort of things they’re saying from the way they look at him. Although he can’t say that he’s surprised. Who would be okay with being forced to watch over an assassin 24/7? Even though he escaped HYDRA’s grasp and is slowly starting to remember who he is, there’s no way anyone is going to trust him ever again, or see him as anything but a monster. 

And even though he isn’t surprised by their judgemental looks, it still fucking hurts to be stripped of your identity over and over, tortured and brainwashed just for someone’s sick fantasy. And even after escaping all that pain, he’s forever tainted by something he never wanted to do. Something that wasn’t his fault, while the people who did this to him escaped or were killed before they could be brought to trial. Despite the things he did, Bucky’s a victim too… and yet, he seems to be the only one being punished.

Frustrated, hot tears stinging at his eyes, Bucky closes his eyes, hoping he can at least imagine something better, more comfortable. And then… he remembers the softness of Y/N’s grandma’s couch. After so long running, he could finally sleep, and it was the best damn sleep of his entire life. Until Y/N woke him up, that is. Y/N. Where is she now? Hopefully, she’s safe. Even though he knows and hates how everyone is going to see him as a monster now… all he cares about is what Y/N thinks of him. Although they only met a week ago, somehow, she means more to him than anything in the world. Even thinking about her and her smile makes him feel a little better.

Then, a memory of them both replays in his mind. 

“You want some music?” She asks, sorting through some records and tapes. “My grandma was a huge fan of all different genres, so we have plenty of choices.” She chuckles. Bucky doesn’t reply, transfixed by the sheer number of records in front of him. Some names trigger some recognition in his brain, but nothing too intense. He peers down at the ones in front of them, reading the names aloud.

“The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, The Beatles….” 

“If you see anything you want to play, just tell me. Your choice.” 

“I’m sorry Y/N… I-I don’t know any of these.” He sighs, disappointed by his inability to choose something.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She reassures him, placing her hand on his forearm reassuringly.

Even now, Bucky remembers how that touch felt. The comfort and the support behind it. He misses that warm touch more than anything.

“I have an idea.” She smiles, picking up a record and putting it on the player. “My grandma loved this one, and I think you’ll like it too.” Soon, the vocals of Ella Fitzgerald begin to play, and recognition dawns on Bucky’s face. 

“W-Wait! I remember her voice.” He furrows his brow, listening closer. “I think I remember this song, too.” Y/N grins. 

He remembers Y/N’s smile too. As bright as the sunshine. And despite how cold and alone he feels right now… that smile still makes him feel as warm and comfortable as he did the first time he saw it. “Say it's only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.” Bucky sings to himself softly. “But it wouldn't be make believe, if you believed in me.”

And he does have someone to believe in him. Y/N. Even after everything he did, she still treated him with kindness, and saw him as more than he was. He just wishes he saw himself that way, too.

The door to Bucky’s cell opens. Closing his eyes, Bucky braces himself, waiting for whatever’s in store for him. After being under HYDRA’s control for so long, he’s almost expecting the same abuse that he suffered at the hands of his superiors. Yet, when he opens his eyes again, focusing on the figure that just entered the room, his eyes widen.

“Y/N? W-What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, my god… Bucky.” She gasps, taking in the sight in front of her. And how tightly they have strapped Bucky in. When he sees the look of guilt and shame on her face, Bucky’s heart sinks. Although Y/N believes in him, he hates that she has to see him like this, like some sort of caged animal.

“Y/N. You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave.” He tells her, but she ignores him.

“Why have they strapped you in so tightly? You’re not dangerous, and you’re not going to hurt anyone. Steve and Sam told me it wasn’t your fault.”

“We can’t take that risk. After my past, they want to make sure they know everything about me and what I’m capable of first. And then…” He pauses, as the full weight of the situation dawns once again. “They’ll decide what to do, and how to punish me.”

“Is there going to be a trial?” She asks. “I-I’ll testify. Say that you aren’t dangerous.”

“Y/N-”

“If they had just seen the way you looked at me, or how we laughed-”

“That’s not going to be enough!” He insists, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. Sighing, Bucky clears his throat. “We still don’t know the risks, and the last thing I want is you getting hurt. So, you should go.” 

“It is! It is enough! And I know you’re not dangerous.” She exclaims, tears falling down her cheeks. “I know that because you spared me, despite all your training and the things you’ve done before. For some reason, you didn’t kill me.” She’s right. After all the victims he’s had, Y/N is the only one where he let them go free. And he still doesn’t know why. But despite that, he knows that isn’t going to do much to help his case. One victim spared, compared to the thousands he killed, is purely a drop in the ocean.

“Y/N.” Bucky sighs. “I appreciate the offer, but really… it’s not worth it.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “It may not have been my choice, but I still did it. And I deserve whatever I’m about to get.”

“You promised me, remember? That we’d be back in my grandma’s house again, listening to music or going through old pictures. Just the two of us.” Bucky’s stomach twists. “I’m not giving up on you.” She tells him, and something deep in Bucky’s stomach flutters. “We may not know why you spared me, but there has to be a reason. And I’m going to find it. Because it proves that you’re not the monster everyone thinks you are.” Stepping closer, she places her palm against the glass. Bucky’s arm twitches, almost as if he was about to place his hand on the opposite side, over hers. “We’ll get through this. I’m not giving up on you.” She repeats, and Bucky can’t keep a smile from growing on his face.

Say it's only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.

But it wouldn't be make believe, if you believed in me.

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[nerves-nebula]

I sometimes get uncomfortable around arguments about if certain characters are abusive or not- obviously I see this the most with 2012 tmnt and nobody really needs my opinion but I keep thinking about it so here’s some words to chew on.

Keep in mind I haven’t seen much of 2012 so I’ll mostly be talking about the WAY I see these discussions being had here, rather than the show itself.

I doubt the creators intended for the turtles to be abusive and I kind of just assume that everything they do is within the genre of slapstick kids show. But I also don’t think people who cringe away from the way they treat each other are reading too much into it.

I’ve seen people argue that ppl who think the brothers are abusive just don’t have siblings and that’s an insane take to me. Obviously its probably hyperbole in some instances but as someone with more siblings than most of the people I know, I 100% see the abuse reading of this series. It’s a very obvious idea to latch onto for me as someone who HAS been abused by my siblings- and who’s probably been abusive too.

The main thing that really gets under my skin is when people point out how much the turtles actually care about each other as evidence against abuse. Cause that doesn’t make any sense ??? you can abuse people you love and care about deeply.

And it really rubs me the wrong way when I see a post that’s like Raph can’t be abusive because he does X nice/cute things with Mikey or something like. That’s not how abuse works. You guys have to know that right?? Abuse isn’t just a person being mean 24/7 without pause.

A bit of a tangent coming up, but growing up, I really hated Mabel from gravity falls. not because she is inherently any more annoying or selfish or anything than other characters but because the way she treated dipper was extremely triggering for me as a child with a lot of anxiety. Like if Mabel was real and my sibling, I would’ve considered a lot of the shit she did abusive. Obviously I’m normal about her now cause I’m not 12 anymore but the biggest hurdle about watching that show when I was younger was that I would sometimes be brought to tears of frustration, imagining how scared and distressed I’d be if Mabel did that shit to me.

THE POINT of this tangent is that saying “the 2012 turtles aren’t abusive because I do that stuff with my siblings all the time/cause teenage boys are just like that” isn’t a genuine critique because abuse isn’t just about the action it’s about the relationship. Punching your sibling who’s actually ok with being punched isn’t abuse. Punching your sibling who really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW would be genuinely upset by being punched? That is abuse.

And I find it annoying because I think we’re all aware that abuse was likely not the intent of the show. (Probably not even the text of the show but once again can’t say for sure) Maybe some dysfunction for drama, but probably not abuse, so you’re really just arguing against someone’s headcanon/personal interpretation of this show. And it’s like.. ok you have a different reading cool I guess.

In the show they aren’t treated as abusive, but fandoms are built around exploring different aspects of art that weren’t explored in canon. So I guess idk why this is a big deal.

Idk I think people have this idea that abusive = evil and always wrong. But abuse is just someone hurting you repeatedly and refusing to stop for whatever reason.

And with a show like 2012 where it’s all played for laughs it can be hard to tell if that’s how they are with each other because they’re ok with it or if that’s how they are cause they don’t know any other way. The turtles are kind of really mean in 2012, and wether that’s a familiarity kind of meanness or not is up to you in fandom, yknow?

Does Mikey actually consider Raph hitting him as like a fun part if their banter or is he coping with jokes about being physically abused? You decide! Like genuinely it can be either and I think that’s fun!

I mean obviously you all know what i’d pick, but that’s because I’m blissfully aware of what I want out of stories and what i want is nuanced discussions of abuse.

Personally, I acted very similarly to the 2012 turtles when living with my siblings, but I didn’t actually fucking like it. It was a defense mechanism because being genuine would only be met with ridicule. So I’m not inclined to agree that it’s fine because it’s just what they do.

Once again though, I doubt it was on purpose. And if you don’t think that they’re abusive then congrats! The show probably doesn’t either! So I just don’t see why people get super upset about it. Don’t you love that someone got a different story out of the same media??

Anyway obviously it doesn’t super matter and I don’t really have a horse in this race. I just got a bit annoyed with the way abuse is discussed and as a hobbyist Abuse Analyst I thought I’d weigh in.

I wrote this instead of going to sleep and it’s sooo late and also so much longer that I meant for it to be… y’all better not have bad takes in response or I’ll be annoyed as hell tomorrow morning, guh.

[f1nalboys]

A request: fem!reader asks her voyeur bf billy if she wants to watch her fuck randy and he agrees

Cuck!Voyeur!Billy Loomis x Fem!AFAB!Reader x Randy Meeks

fuck me this req is from feb 24, 2022.. and i am...just now doing it.... and its not even a full length fic T-T O AM SO EVIL IM SORRY howver!!!! i hope despite the length that you all (but especially u my dear, thank u for being patient!!!) enjoy this silly little thing!!!!

WORD COUNT: 794

WARNINGS: nsfw, cuck voyeur billy, slight sub billy if you squint and read into it, oral (afab and amab receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, threesome sorta, randy is a King <3, implication of more sex, proofread but probably missed some stuff

You’re sitting beside him, hand down his pants and lips on his throat, when you ask. He blinks, lost in the haze of pleasure from your hand on him and then your question is hitting him and he’s pulling away with a sound of disgust. “The fuck did you just ask me?” He’s staring at you intensely, eyebrows stitched together and the corner of his lip curled up in a sneer, but you just grin.

“I asked if you would want to watch me fuck Randy.” He shakes his head and scoffs but then your hand is down his pants again and he’s so hard, so needy he doesn’t bother to push your hand away. Billy tries to keep his eyes open, to keep looking at you, even when your hand is pumping slowly, squeezing at the base of his cock, swiping your thumb over his leaking tip. “Doesn’t that sound fun? Watching him fuck me, hearing me cum, all while you touch yourself?”

“That’s if he can make you cum,” Billy mutters, tripping over his words slightly. “Never should have told you I was into watching.” He grins, lifting his hips up and you roll your eyes, helping him pull his jeans down. He sighs, head tilting to the side as he watches you settle down onto the floor on your knees in front of him. “That something you’re interested in? Really?” You nod. “With Meeks?”

Grinning, you nod, spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his cock again, leaning forwards and licking the tip gently, just to earn the hiss of pleasure he always gave you when you did it. “Yeah, but only if you’re watching.”

“Trust me,” He says, hand moving and resting on the back of your head, a sick grin gracing his flushed face. “I won’t be able to take my fucking eyes off of you.” You don’t have the chance to smile up at him or take in the compliment before he’s forcing your head down onto his cock, your harsh gag not being enough to drown out his loud groan of pleasure at feeling your throat constrict around him.

---------

Billy hated that he loved this. Here you were, on your back, legs tucked up to your chest getting fucked within an inch of your life by Randy fucking Meeks and here Billy was, cock in hand, so close it actually hurts. When the idea had been brought up to Randy he had turned bright red, shaking his head, telling Billy and you that it was ‘fucked up’ to tease him like that. When you both had reiterated that no, you weren’t teasing him, he had jumped at the chance. Billy thought it was… cute how eager he was to touch you, to make you feel good, to make you cum.

“F-fuck, Randy!” Billy tunes back into the scene in front of him, a moan caught in his throat at the sight of your legs shaking. Randy’s pace hadn’t slowed down once, a sheen of sweat covering his entire body. “Close, Billy, Randy, oh god!” Billy grips the base of his cock tightly, hips flexing, keeping him on the edge long enough to watch you come undone for the third time that night.

Randy suddenly chokes out a moan, body collapsing over you, rutting into your cunt as he feels himself teetering on the edge. You’re begging him to cum and you’re looking over at Billy and he knows you’re begging him to do it too. He cums without meaning to, too caught up in the whimper you let out as Randy cums inside you to stop himself from spilling over his fist. 

“That was… so good,” Randy says, giving you a few quick kisses before sitting back up and pulling out slowly, his hands keeping your thighs apart so he can watch his cum slowly spill out of you. “Can we do this again? Like, seriously, I’ll pay you both.”

“That’s prostitution, jackass,” Billy says but there’s no actual venom behind his words. He tucks himself back into his jeans and walks over, nudging Randy out of the way, positioning himself on his stomach. “Up to her, I don’t care.” He takes a slow lick up your cunt and you twitch, one hand tangling in his hair and the other grabbing ahold of Randy’s upper arm, nails digging into his freckled flesh.  Randy chuckles, leaning down and kissing you on the forehead, his cock twitching at the sight of Billy eating you out. “You don’t care but you’re eating my cum, okay, sure.” Billy grins against you and flips Randy off, adding his fingers into the mix. You were in for a very long night.

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Rewrite Ideas for Lila Rossi

I know there’s been a lot of criticism about Lila’s lies and how Marinette’s friends and other people trust Lila’s word over hers, especially Alya her best friend and journalist. What if Lila wasn’t just more careful with her lies(telling more believable lies with fake proof or atleast have benefit of the doubt, more cautious about threats and frame ups), but instead of telling negative lies about someone people should know better about, she instead uses already known truths against them. Does still manipulate certain things but also make those are unto her or see as a threat, dig their own graves, expose their own issues.  Ex, Like how Lila made Aya think the issue was just Marinette having a crush on Adrien and being jealous.

I think it would’ve worked more if Lila actually played into this more. Not just using Marinette’s crush on Adrien but her and the other’s biggest flaws(overthinking things, insecurity, digging herself deeper into her problems, etc) Using their issues and past mistakes to manipulate things in her benefit or atleast make people consider past issues that would make people have to also consider.

Marinette if she decided to just come out and say why she doesn’t trust Lila when she comes back as a new classmate, similar to when she talked to Alya and Nino.

Lila-I really dont get where all this skepticism’s coming from. I was only here one day and I don’t think we even got to meet, let alone talk, so how could you know anything I did-

Marinette-BECAUSE I FOLLOWED YOU!

Class-What!?

Lila-I’m sorry, what?😈

Marinette-I said I…oh boy. Realizes how bad that sounds and can’t really tell them the stuff she’d have to known as Ladybug.

Adrien-Wait I don’t get it, why follow us?

Class knowing Marinette’s huge crush on Adrien and the crazy things she has done involving him-…nervous coughs.

Ayla who also knows this and who Marinette told she was gonna follow them-Oh boy.

Later

Ayla-Listen Lila I’m really sorry, I should’ve stopped her. Are you gonna bring this up with the teachers?

Lila- Hey, don’t worry about it. I mean you’re her friend, not her mom, it’s not your responsibility to watch what she’s up to. I’m just happy this was simply because she likes Adrien and not because she really thinks I’m some “evil manipulative mastermind”, this doesn’t feel like anything I need to involve a teacher with, not like anyone got really hurt. I’ll be honest I have a problem sometimes being fully honest, I may exaggerate or tell a few white lies just simply to fit in, I’m not trying to hurt anyone. But seriously, we've only hung out like only a few times, he really is just a friend to me at this point. I’m sorry for all the trouble.

Alya- Don’t worry about it, honestly this isn’t really ur fault.

Lila-Well thanks and seriously, this isn’t really your fault either. Alya- Thank you. Still, maybe I should’ve been more concerned.

Lila- I mean these things happen, We’re teens, sometimes we might let our hormones get the better of us but I doubt this stuff happen all the time, she seems like a good person. Besides if she did do something that really crossed the line, as her best friend, I’m sure you def would call her out or atleast make it clear u don’t support it, right?

Ayla-…

Lila-Do you think I should talk to Marinette?

Alya- No, no don’t worry about that. Maybe I should though.

Lila-Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. she’d probably listen better to a friend anyway 😈

and doesn’t just do this kinda stuff with Marinette but can pit the whole class against eachother If she plays the cards right, full on Mean Girls Watch The World Burn🔥🔥🔥. All while, looking completely inconspicuous and whatever she could’ve done would be seen as simply indirect or unintentional and certainly no way she could’ve known it would lead to such an outcome…right?

Lila-As such a great designer Marinette, I’d figure you’d understand that rather try to make something completely new, better to make the best out of the materials you already have! And there is just so much to work with, especially with you😈

And rather Marinette not trying to expose her because of Adrien's advice but rather her own self doubt. “What if I really am just jealous and overthinking this whole thing”, “I technically was in the wrong first for following them, granted I had to for the book but I didn’t know that at first”, “what if I make things worse and Alya…won’t be my friend anymore”…”she’s probably right, maybe Lila’s just harmless and it really is all in my head”…”maybe it is just me”.

I just like antagonists who make the protagonists consider their own moral character and actions, if they’re really as good as they think they are. Even if they’re manipulative liars who are trying to be dishonest, there’s always that certain part of what they say that can’t be fully brushed off as entirely wrong, sometimes even being the ones to call out the protagonists’s less moral actions and mistakes.  And I think Lila could’ve really had that sort of potential with Marinette. For better or for worse, her impact could make Marinette reflect on herself.

Lila-You’re the type of person who sees themselves as the hero in their own story and that everything you do is right, but truth is you can just as easily be the villain! You think my lies are bad? Half of what I say is just calling you out on your own mistakes. You just can’t handle the TRUTH!😈

what do u think? How’d u wanna rewrite Lila? I’d love to know💖

[nymph-ette111]

Hello! I’m grateful you wrote my request and this is in no way me complaining, I only want to answer what you said about accuracy and all. I’m well aware than npd is not well researched so I’m putting this more so as a way to give you more insight than complain about your portrayal, I’m chill with it. Sorry for the long message. It’s kinda hard putting this stuff into words, but I want to bc I’ve seen one too many posts about all ppl with npd needing to be ‚separated from the society, put down or castrated to stop their kind from spreading’ so I’m not about to waste an opportunity to put out a different perspective. If you don’t want to publically respond I’m chill with that, this is just some info for you if you wanna know more

I really resonated with the part where you said Toby loves like a dog because that’s also the metaphor I use to explain npd. Bc it kinda feels like you’re a dog, you love like one certainly. It feels like you were raised for cagefights. They taught you when you need to bite to survive and get a pat on the back. Taught you that if you didn’t, things get ugly for you. Taught you that everybody is a threat. You have never been prepared to read emotions because surviving and winning were always synonymous and both consumed your youth too much to genuinely learn social clues. And maybe, now you’re out of that place. And suddenly you’re expected to be a good dog, to love and be soft and kind. But the best you can do is act and frantically look around the room for a sign of a threat, because at this point you expects to be hurt. Sometimes you still bite. You know how to fight for your life but you flinch when someone wants to hug you. You’re mean and bitter at heart because as far as you know anyone could hurt you for any mistake you make. Showing weaknesses is out of the question, so you put on a mask. You need to be the best and to be perfect because you know what happened when you weren’t. You hate yourself for every mistake and see that as a life-or-death threat. You seek patterns to be safe and you learn to respond well to things without knowing why you should perform a certain way. You remember that when you used to make a wrong step, it was hell for you. And it’s hard to make a connection when you fear everybody hurting you. When you can’t grasp why anybody would keep you around if you’re not benefitting them. So you act like you’re great and hope that people believe you enough to think you’re worth having around

When I met my roommate in the school dorms I really liked her. A few weeks into knowing her, she started giving me food and trinkets. And many times, though I acted with all the gratitude that I always had to show and I did all the things you’re supposed to do, I felt lost. Because I wasnt very useful to her. She had no benefit from giving me things. Shamefully, I do admit I sat there alone tearing up at a chocolate bar or two that she left for me because it felt so confusingly nice(?) and I still don’t know why she does it. But of course I know (by observation) that people are uncomfortable when others question things like that. So I don’t, I just try to be useful and hope she decides I’m convenient to have (a ‚pleasure to have in class’ of sorts)

With manipulation it’s hard to say how much of it is true because most of the diagnostics were based off of male case studies and generally when the label of ‚npd’ has been slapped on someone, most things they do are seen as kind of evil. I know I do avoid conflict and use my words to my advantage if I feel threatened, yeah. Just yesterday had a friend getting progressively more heated at me (we have very different opinions on things as it turned out) and I did subtly framed it as ‚I thought you were more mature than that, it’s really childish to blow up on me’ bc I know he feels like the group doesn’t treat him seriously. Is it good? Maybe not, but a threat is a threat and I’m not about find out what he does when he gets really angry lol

As to the ‚look at me, I’m the best’ kind of thing, you have to put yourself first because you’ve been put last by everyone else. In a sense, it really does feel like fighting for your life and then being thrown into a setting where nobody had that growing up so you feel like you need to act like them and count days before everything turns ugly again because it’s hard to believe most people aren’t cruel and dangerous. That’s all you’ve known and all you prepared for

So you have a hard time forming honest connections. You feel like an empty shell and discard your smile as soon as you’re through the door. You’re tired. And you don’t know how to act in this new world. So you still do what you need to survive, despite everyone telling you that it’s not about that anymore

Like, ofc I have some personality. I know I like making music and enjoy a quiet evening. I know others tell me I’m fun at parties, funny, charming. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what is me and what is my survival instinct kicking in though. The way I see it, the modern mirror of Narcissus is in other people’s eyes. And I just try to do anything to keep seeing admiration instead of hatred in them

To be fair I feel like that would work (somewhat) with the creeps, because they aren't super well either and someone who can see patterns in their behavior (how they act when something is wrong etc) could work better bc I don't see then opening up and talking about feelings either. Sure, all those things kinda suggest that they could also mentally destroy me if they wanted (but I would let them bc I love them, especially your portrayal of ben 😌😌). Also I heve a feeling BEN is the kind of guy to show you gore videos for fun and talk about tormenting others for funsies so inability to emotionally connect with others would probably make it easier to enjoy yourself around him lmao idk about others probably trauma bonding would work?? Lol

-⭐︎

HELLO?? I FUCKING LOVE THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE THINGS OH MY GOD I'll try to respond to every point in this message because I really like it and thank you for reaching out so often I love when people interact with me :) literally get so excited once I see that little star emoji at the end of requests because I know it's you lol. I mostly based the headcanons off of people on Quora (other than more research on different sites) since it's people with said disorder talking about personal experiences and other people who don't have npds' interaction with people who do have it.

I fucking love when people use the dog metaphors for toby when writing him.

I agree on the point that some creeps would have this, Jeffrey comes to mind, I feel like a lot brush him off as an evil person but I see it as a sort of defense mechanism for him? I can definitely see Jeff relating to this for sure.

IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY PORTRAYAL OF BEN X3 and that's so true I literally mentioned it in one of my headcanons like that stinky fucker would show you gore and legit go 'its not even that bad' when you start freaking out. Definitely pops up those videos on your devices randomly. He's so annoying I love him.

One thing I don't like about creepypasta headcanons that revolve around the reader having a personality disorder is the creators make them act so...nice? Like I know that's what people want to read but let's be honest these serial killers never experienced a day of comfort in their lives, I genuinely don't see them being all that nice about it unless it's more of the kinder creeps like Liu or Jane or Nina but even then they'd be awkward about it. The most they'd do is notice (unless you straight up tell them) and that's it. I wouldn't say they would straight up fucking degrade you for having a disorder but I don't see them caring because they're all traumatized, I don't see them sympathizing with reader so yeah that's something that kinda bugs me in creepypasta headcanons.

[theficpusher]

Marionette by Anonymous | E | 2733 Harry is a vampire on the hunt. He doesn’t know that he’s not the top of the food chain.

Just a little taste by lunarheslwt | G | 3688 “Little dove,” Louis crooned, making Harry shiver a little, affected, “you’re shaking. Do you want to bite?” Harry stilled. He knew what Louis was asking. He knew Louis probably could sense how in dire need of comfort he was. He knew Louis was offering. And yet- “No,” he whispered, even as he felt the strong urge to let his lips trace the well-known path to the spot he usually bit into, “I could hurt you.” “Harry, my darling, you haven’t hurt me once in the numerous times you’ve needed to bite. Today will be no different. You know it’ll do you good.” Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, torn. In the end, it was an offer he was too weak to resist. “So…do you want to? Little taste?” “Yeah,” Harry rasped out, “please.” Or, Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one. Louis offers him unwavering love, acceptance and the one thing he needs but is reluctant to ask for; permission to bite for the sake of comfort and safety seeking.

Nothing's Greater Than the Rush by therogueskimo | E | 8303 Good luck. That’s how whoever had turned him had signed off their little instruction manual, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. As though being a vampire - which Louis didn’t even know existed until he was one - was normal, something that happened every day. To survive being turned into a vampire, Louis must feed on the person he loves most. There's just one little problem: that person is his best friend, Harry, and Harry has no idea.

Liquid Gold by wabadabadaba | E | 9273 Harry’s original intention wasn’t to tease but he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward, dropping on his hands, and let his teeth graze Louis’ jaw. He delighted in Louis’ reaction- his breath hitched and was uneven, his body was pliant, and his eyes were already dilating. Harry moved his fangs from Louis’ jaw down to his neck, right over his jugular vein. Harry’s eyes rolled back as he smelled Louis’ blood- there was the bitter copper smell that all blood had with notes of something sweet. He applied the tiniest amount of pressure, enough for Louis to stop breathing all together, and licked the vein. He kissed it and pulled away from Louis completely. or, Louis has a biting kink and the only person he thinks can fulfill it is his vampire friend, Harry.

it's me and my plus one at the afterlife by mrsenjolras | T | 9322 It all starts because Liam Payne makes a stupid decision. Well, that’s not exactly true. Technically it starts when Louis turns 16 and becomes the Slayer, the chosen one to fight all evil forces in the world and to prevent the apocalypse, blah blah, major responsibility, saving the world, et cetera et cetera. But this time? This time Liam did something really, really dumb. [Or: Louis is the Slayer, Nick and Harry are vampires, and Liam and Niall make up the rest of the Scoobies.]

just a little rush, babe | G | 10296 “You know everything they say about Dracula? All that stuff I wrote in my paper?” Niall asks as he rips one of the glazed donuts in half. Harry hums. “It’s all bullshit. Real vampires do tomato juice cleanses and do yoga. Fuck.” Harry's a vampire who's awful at parallel parking, being scary, and being alone. He meets Niall walking home alone one night.

In This Room by thisonegoes | E | 17675 It’s his neck that first catches Zayn's eye and stops him in his tracks. A shirtless man with his back to him, his hands up in his hair, practically stumbling into the other humans dancing around him. It's a lovely neck. A Zarry Vampire AU. Happy Halloween.

Death Wish by Speechless | E | 22067 Louis hates vampires, he lives his life trying to kill as many as he can, night after night, year after year. He hates them. Then why the fuck is he kissing one? Again. “I mean it, Harry.” Louis says, into his mouth this time. “You need to get the fuck away from me.”

Scorpions et mandragores by Stria | E | 22934 Vampires were rich gents, well-versed in the unspoken rules of polite society, knowledgeable about an infinity of topics, ready to lend a hand in historiography debates. Vampires were charming, fashionable, mysterious. Vampires drank synth or donated blood, played nice with humans, didn’t bite anymore. Vampires were nice, non-threatening. What a load of bullshit. (Or, in a world where vamps have come out of the coffin, vampire Harry's tired to play nice with food, and gets obsessed with human Louis, fresh-faced and captivating.)

[bleue-flora]

did c!Dream even realize c!Tommy was suicidal in exile other than that one time where he said its not your time to die yet also on the topic of c!Discduo friendship in exile. THIS

18:39 and 20:03 https://youtu.be/c6ILC5Z5bD4?si=Z7ysWy9LOhcPf22P

the way c!Dream yells. hello?

I mean I’d have to probably watch more Exile to answer properly but, Dream’s not an idiot, Tommy is very depressed and stuff, and in his conversation with Punz later he talks about checking on him to make sure he’s okay [clip] which gives me the impression that he did know and care. But I have to also say, Dream threatened to kill him if he didn’t give over his items, so if he was always suicidal, why wouldn’t he just let him? Ya know? In that stream you linked, he seems to want to not die quite a lot asking for help against the mobs so I get the impression the suicidal ideation didn’t come till later. Even so it can be a very impulsive or sudden thought to happen when you’re upset and miserable.

I myself almost drove my car off a bridge after my friend sent me a nasty text message. Does that make her an abuser? - no. She was hurting, I hurt her, she hurt me back, and it was a shitty thing for her to do, but I don’t think she’s this terrible person because of it… anyways suffice to say a lot of people are suicidal, in fact every single one of my friends have been close, and that’s not to minimize the seriousness, I’m not saying that in any sense. (Please me mindful of what you say and do and pay attention to people in the room who may be hurting, because you never know who’s sitting at the bottom of the ocean like Tommy.) I only mean to say we all are human beings suffering and feeling alone in the world. (Ironic isn’t it? That so many of us feel alone in the world? I saw a quote once that said something along the lines of that if you ever feel lonely look at the moon and realize that there is someone else looking at the moon too and feeling the same way.) And sometimes someone can be hurting, and suicidal and depressed and hurt by others without those people being abusers, evil, bad, shitty, horrible people. In other words, Exile didn’t have to be horrible to push Tommy to the edge, not saying it wasn’t but saying it didn’t have to. In my mind, it’s likely he would have ended up on that tower from the fact that Tubbo didn’t visit him alone, or if nobody visited, if Dream didn’t show up, maybe he would’ve almost jumped sooner. Again to reiterate, I say this not to downplay Exile or Dream’s actions or anything, I’m just throwing out some thoughts on the matter…

Anyways… on a less serious note, Dream screaming in protecting Tommy is hilarious [clip] and [clip]. Reminds me of Techno’s “Phil, Look Out!”

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 3

if you’ve got something good, that just means someone wants to take it, right?

i am not gonna watch that happen again.

i like rules. they bring order to the chaos.

you’re my favorite person in the world, but you’re acting weird.

i don’t want to be anyone’s hero. i just want to be safe and boring and happy.

we did so many bad things. it’s all burnt in my brain.

i know that i am flawed, but i am trying to be better.

if you think i’m a killer, prove it.

i’m, like, perpetually single.

no one in the world had more reasons not to believe in me, but you still did.

everyone expects me to have it all together, but i just don’t.

i don’t care what other people think about me. your opinion is the only one that mattered.

if you’re always a disappointment, then it’s impossible to disappoint.

i got so wrapped up in my own dreams and feelings. i took what we had for granted.

what we are to each other is so much more complicated than any stupid wife or husband or girlfriend. 

it’s too much for me, you needing me.

i want us to go back. back before the mistakes, the lies. back to when we were unstoppable. 

i guess all the time i feel like i’m kind of trapped because i can’t describe how i’m feeling.

you deserve better than me.

everyone keeps saying the only thing that will make this better is time and maybe space.

i didn’t want you to leave last night. 

got to clear the skies for some blue skies, right?

i just don’t want to get hurt again.

everything’s still unresolved, you know?

nobody deserves romance more than you. 

i don't know when i'm going to get over this. but i want to be beside you when that day comes.

is it cold in here, or is it just me?

i’ll get blamed if something bad happens to you.

i’ve got one rule for you. dance with me.

why is this so hard?

can we keep having dramatic yet memorable dates?

if you tell me right now that you’ll never forgive me until the end of time, i’ll leave you alone.

i’m not the problem. you are.

you two are weird in all the same ways. 

forget other people’s definitions. be who you want to be.

if i love you now, imagine how much i’ll love the person you become?

i just don’t see it adding up to happiness for any of us.

i kind of felt like you were running away from me.

i’m not a stranger. i’m just strange. 

every time i do something to be happy, someone gets hurt. 

all year, i’ve tried to do the right thing, but what do i get in return?

you strike me as a queen without her crown.

we’ll always find our way back to each other. 

what’s the point of fighting so hard to stay alive if we’re just going to die alone?

you know there’s a chance. that’s what you can’t square. that’s what hurts.

things went bad for you, things went bad for me.

it’s not that i’m like you. it’s that i love you.

i’m losing my fucking mind, and i’m terrified. 

you knocked me off balance in a good way.

he knew what to do. he always did. and he was a fucking asshole about it.

you should get the hell away from me. i’m poison. i ruin people.

you sound like a bad romantic comedy.

i think we can make long distance work.

you’re not a victim. you’re a killer.

i know kids lie to their parents about stuff,  but you don’t do that. it’s not you. 

you can come back from this. i know you can. you have to. 

people die, they become a threat.

you’re either the cat or the mouse.

when you go down, i hope i’m there to see it.

we’ve always needed each other. that’s what our entire relationship’s been about.

i’m not evil. i just did an evil thing, one i deeply regret.