#and i became very suicidal and scared

[bluemoontarot]

Hmm but I was called crazy in high school when I pointed out that the nazi's who fled Germany just came here :) and that they started making families that were involved in politics :) and that those nazi's kids then became men in power :)

The nazi's who LOST fled Germany, and realized they had a second chance in a nation that was even MORE racist and bigoted than them.

America.

And here we are almost 100 years later. Book bans and burnings of lgbt stories and research, anti-semitism on the rise, anti-trans legislation that will then be used to target other minorities, women losing autonomy of their bodies, poc being targeted in murders and indigenous land and culture being destroyed.

History. Repeats. Itself.

[daz4i]

let me preface this by clarifying i am not anti therapy in any way whatsoever and in fact encourage people to get therapy if they can and even go the extra step to help friends find the right type of therapy that may help them

ok now that that's out of the way.

therapy is bullshit man you go to a therapist saying "hey. i wanna kill myself. can you help me stop wanting to kill myself somehow?" and they go "sure! first step, stop wanting to kill yourself" and you say "well i can't. that's why i came to you. bc i don't know. how to stop wanting to kill myself" and they'll say "that's a shame. i can't help you if you want to kill yourself. that'll be 125$ please"

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

baby steps. l Joel Miller

Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols

Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!

The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 

Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.

Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.

"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.

"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.

Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"

A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."

Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?

It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 

You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 

The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.

You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.

After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."

"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."

The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."

Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."

"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"

The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"

He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.

"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."

"I saw. Good thoughts?"

Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 

You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.

"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.

"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."

You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.

"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"

"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."

"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"

"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"

Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."

You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."

You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.

Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 

Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.

"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."

"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."

"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"

"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"

"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.

When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."

Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.

"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."

"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.

"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."

But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.

"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."

That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.

"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."

No answer.

"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.

"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."

"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."

"Maybe I'm sick?"

"You don't seem to be."

And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 

Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.

"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"

"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."

"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."

About me.

Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.

"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."

"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"

You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.

"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."

Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."

He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.

"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.

"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.

You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."

Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.

"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."

"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.

A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."

He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.

"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."

Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 

"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."

"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"

Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.

"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."

"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.

"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."

"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."

"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."

You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."

"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.

"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."

For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.

"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.

You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."

He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 

And then Ellie appeared.

"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."

The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.

"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."

Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.

You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.

He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.

"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.

"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.

You smiled and followed him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[thhestia]

hello

this post will be way different than my usual content but i feel obliged to raise my voice in this matter.

This might be triggering for some people and i'm sorry in advance but please read the whole thing and help me raise my voice and the women of my country's to make this matter known so that the government would start taking us seriously and start taking measures for women's safety.

I live in Turkey and i love my country but i cannot deny the fact that as each day passes i become more scared for my life, just like the rest of the women in my country. I'm writing these as the women are protesting yesterday's murders right now.

Yesterday, 2 women were brutally murdered by the same man at Edirnekapı, Istanbul. The murderer first killed Ayşenur (19) in his home and called the cops to report the murder then, he went to kill İkbal (19). Semih Çelik murdered those two 19 YEAR OLD girls, İkbal Uzuner and Ayşenur Halil. He slit Ayşenur's throat and dismembered İkbal Uzuner on top of the city walls and he THREW İKBAL'S HEAD IN FRONT OF HER MOTHER. He then committed suicide by jumping from the very same place he dismembered İkbal. And he did all this IN BROAD DAYLIGHT.

He had been stalking İkbal for over a year, his own father had reported him several times, a disturbing drawing made by him and a video of him filmed last year talking about how he wanted to kill İkbal (quoting the exact words from the video: "...The day you saw me, I had come to kill you. I wanted to take a life with me when I left this life, and it was more valuable for me if that person was you. To cut out your heart, your eyes…") were uncovered recently but NO MEASURES WERE TAKEN. That psychopath took two innocent lives and the only thing that the government did was to impose a broadcast ban.

So as a woman who is afraid, i am asking you to spread this and to make this known. We, turkish women, hope that making this matter known globally will help us.

Why do we need help to raise our voices?

>In 2021, Turkey became the first and only country to withdraw from the Istanbul Convention, a human rights treaty of the Council of Europe opposing violence against women.

>Women's complaints are not taken seriously, and offenders are repeatedly let go without any consequences. Our prisons are filled to the brim with journalists and political prisoners, however repeat sexual offenders, abusers, p3d0philes and murderers are released.

So this means, even if that murderer did not commit suicide he might've not been punished properly for his crimes.

Please help me make this matter known.

The images below are the details.

.

[wandagcre]

Hii! How you doing?

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

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

if i break | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob!Boss Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

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

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

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

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

Sam provides everything imaginable to your heart's desire.

Yet, you feel yourself wither each day.

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

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

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

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

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

But she deeply craved your touch much as you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was dowright ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam was taken aback. "W-What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[thewertsearch]

DAVESPRITE: basically im from another timeline DAVESPRITE: we couldnt win the game there so i came back to help dave […] DAVESPRITE: as a sprite im supposed to help him with his quest […] DAVESPRITE: […] things kind of became even more crazy in this timeline than the one i was from DAVESPRITE: and it was clear dave was never gonna do the quest i didnt get the chance to finish

The Quests have fallen by the wayside a little - but to be fair, the kids don't actually have any reason to complete the Quests of a doomed Medium. We're about to spin up an entirely new session, and that session's Quests are the important ones here.

DAVESPRITE: so DAVESPRITE: after laying low for a while DAVESPRITE: i just went and did whatever i could myself

Sounds like our boy's just looking for something to do.

I'd argue that Davesprite would serve the session better if he worked directly with the kids, but I completely understand why he’s not doing so. The poor guy doesn’t feel like the ‘real’ Dave anymore, and those emotions would only be intensified if he was interacting with a friend group which includes Dave Prime.

Come to think of it, that’s probably why he seems more comfortable with Jadesprite. They both understand the uniquely uncomfortable feeling of being treated like a 'backup' version of yourself.

DAVESPRITE: got caledfwlch DAVESPRITE: the fuckin welsh sword dave broke DAVESPRITE: went to look for hephaestus again DAVESPRITE: figuring there wasnt much hope in beating him this time either especially being injured and all but what the hell right

If he actually fought Hephaestus in this state, there was only going to be one possible outcome - and Davesprite knows it.

This guy really isn't ok. In a Medium full of emotionally traumatized children, Davesprite might just be the most haunted Player in the session. We just haven't really noticed, because he's been deliberately isolating himself for most of the Act.

God damn it, Isn't there something we can do to help this kid? The other Players are all busy with their own crises, but maybe being around Jadesprite will be good for him. I can only hope.

I'm just very worried that he's going to do something else pointlessly suicidal, and won't be able to take it back.

DAVESPRITE: thats when you lit the forge somehow JADESPRITE: i did? […] DAVESPRITE: not you other jade […] JADESPRITE: shes a lot more brave than me i think JADESPRITE: she brought me back thinking i could help her and all i did was disappoint her and everyone else JADESPRITE: you came back as a sprite and youre managing to do important things… JADESPRITE: but i just feel so scared and helpless

Helpless? Girl, you're as powerful as Doc fucking Scratch.

You could tear this entire Medium asunder, and it wouldn't even be hard. You literally have the whole world in the palm of your hands. I straight-up do not have the hyperbolic vocabulary to describe how un-helpless you are, but it seems you've come down with a nasty case of Tavros Syndrome, and are unable to perceive your own strength.

You’re the literal, actual First Guardian of Earth. Use it!

[ghsface]

It's okay to cry. It's okay to not be okay...

Bau team x bau!reader

Sumary: Sometimes I need to remind myself and others that survival doesn’t just mean being okay, it means learning to laugh at what scared us. And if I don’t do it, who else will?

Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide, lots of blood, some dark humor at the end, cuts on arms, bathtub full of blood, no use of t/n (if you don't feel good reading this please don't read it, I also tried to approach this topic with too much care and delicacy and respect, I hope not to offend anyone)

Author's note: September is suicide prevention month. "suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem" is something that you always hear people say.. and it's true.

speaking from my personal experience, it's something that was on my mind many months many years ago, and I was able to put those thoughts aside thanks to people who I thought were never going to help me, it was a long and very hard process but now I can tell you that I'm completely fine, once they told me if you have people to write a farewell letter to it's because at least someone cares about you, you may have heard this before but it's true, you will always have someone to support you even if you think you have no one, also once they told me if you ever have these thoughts again or even try again ask for help it doesn't matter who just ask for help, whatever way ask for help, those words marked me almost all of my adolescence tbh and it helped me, I hope that if you are going through this alone, you can talk to me, my messages will always be open for whatever it is help or just talking, feel free to do so, if you read this up to here I really appreciate that you did<333

The BAU team was uneasy. It wasn't often that someone on their team disappeared without a trace, much less you. Emily Prentiss had been the first to notice your absence, as you never missed work without notice. Days ago, you had requested a brief leave for personal matters, but you hadn't returned to the office or answered any calls or messages since. As the days passed, worry turned to fear.

JJ, Spencer, and Emily decided to go to your house, as they could no longer ignore the fact that something wasn't right. The atmosphere in the car was tense. JJ kept his hands tightly on the wheel, while Spencer stared out the window, his mind wandering through thousands of possibilities, each one worse than the last. Emily, in the backseat, checked her phone over and over again, hoping in vain to receive some news from you.

When they arrived at your house, the silence was deathly. The windows were closed, and the door seemed intact, but there was something in the air, something that made them hold their breath. Emily pulled out her gun, and after exchanging a worried look with JJ and Spencer, they decided to go inside.

“anyone home?” JJ shouted as she walked down the hallway to the entrance. There was no response.

Spencer’s heart was pounding as they made their way into the living room. Everything was in order, not a sign of a struggle, but something wasn’t right. Every step they took, every corner they inspected, increased the feeling that something terrible had happened.

It was Emily who first noticed the bathroom door ajar. She approached it slowly, holding her breath, as a dark foreboding took hold of her. Pushing open the door, the scene she found was enough to make her stomach turn.

There you were, in the bathtub, submerged in the red-tinged water. Your arms hung at your sides, covered in deep cuts, blood still slowly flowing from the wounds.

“Oh my God!” JJ exclaimed from the doorway, her voice cracking.

Spencer walked into the room behind her, and for a second, the world seemed to stop. She’d never felt such paralyzing fear, such sharp pain in her chest. The air became thick, almost impossible to breathe.

Emily was the first to react, rushing to you, her hands shaking as she tried to pull your unconscious body out of the water. “Call an ambulance, JJ!” she screamed, trying to stay calm, though her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Spencer knelt beside you, her eyes flooding with tears. “You can’t do this... you can’t leave us like this,” she whispered, her voice thick with desperation.

JJ tried to call 911, but the desperation in his voice made the words catch in his throat. He finally managed to give the address, but the operator informed him that the ambulance would take a while to arrive due to an accident on the main road. Without wasting any more time, JJ made a decision. “We can’t wait, we have to take her ourselves!”

Without thinking twice, the three of them carried you out of the bathroom, wrapping you in towels to stop the bleeding. Spencer held you, his hands still stained with your blood, as they rushed you to the car.

The trip to the hospital was agony. Every second that passed, every breath you took, or stopped taking, was like a stab in the heart of each of them. Emily, driving at full speed, struggled not to lose concentration while JJ, from the backseat, pressed on your wounds, trying to keep you conscious. Spencer kept talking to you, murmuring words of encouragement, pleading with you not to leave, to stay with them.

Finally, they arrived at the hospital, and the doctors immediately took you into surgery. The BAU team, who had been alerted, arrived soon after. Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Garcia joined Emily, JJ, and Spencer in the waiting room. The hours passed slowly, each minute a silent torture as they waited for news from you.

Spencer kept staring at his hands, your words echoing in his mind. He couldn’t shake the image of you, limp and lifeless in that bathtub. He felt helpless, riddled with guilt for not realizing what was happening to you. He loved you, more than he’d ever dared to admit, and the thought of losing you was too painful to bear.

Finally, the doctor emerged from the operating room, his expression grave. “She’s stable for now, but the blood loss was significant. We had to suture multiple wounds and are monitoring for possible nerve damage. It’s a miracle they brought her in on time.”

The relief was palpable, but so was the sadness. They knew that even though you had survived, the battle wasn’t over. They would have to face the reasons why you had gotten to that point, figure out what had happened, and most of all, be there for you, to help you heal.

Spencer walked up to the ICU door, looking at you through the glass. His eyes filled with tears, he rested a hand on the glass. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realize how bad you were,” he whispered, feeling the weight of guilt crushing him.

Emily and JJ accompanied him, each feeling a mix of relief and pain. They knew the road to your recovery would be long and difficult, but they were determined to be by your side every step of the way, no matter what it took.

When you were finally able to open your eyes days later, the first thing you saw were the tired but relieved faces of your teammates. You knew you had plunged into a darkness that seemed insurmountable, but seeing the people who loved you by your side, you knew you wouldn’t be alone on the road back to the light.

The dim glow of the hospital’s fluorescent lights welcomed you back into the conscious world. Your head hurt, and you felt the weight of the blankets on your body, but what caught your attention the most was the soft sound of someone breathing next to you. You slowly turned your head and met the tired, worried eyes of Spencer, who had been watching over you.

“Spencer…” your voice came out as a whisper, rough from lack of use and medication. You were surprised at how weak you felt, as if a large part of you had vanished.

He sat up instantly, his eyes filling with relief at seeing you awake. “You’re awake…” he said in a tone that reflected a mix of joy and pain. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... If I had known… If I had noticed something…” The weight of his guilt hit you hard. Even though every fiber of your being was exhausted, you couldn’t let Spencer carry that pain. But before you could answer, the door to the room opened, and Emily and JJ rushed in, closely followed by Hotch and Rossi.

Emily approached you, tears in her eyes, but keeping her composure. “You scared the hell out of us,” she said softly, gently taking your hand. “You don’t have to go through this alone, understand? We’re here for you, always.” JJ sat on the other side of the bed, his blue eyes filled with concern. “Whatever you’re going through… you can tell us. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence, everyone waiting for you to say something, anything to help them understand what had brought you to this point. You knew they were worried, that they wanted to help you, but it wasn’t easy to put into words the storm that had been building inside you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice breaking, feeling tears build up in your eyes. “I didn’t want them to know… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Spencer looked at you in pain, his hands shaking slightly as he took yours. “You would never be a burden to us. Never.”

Hotch, who had been watching silently, stepped forward. His voice was firm, but with a tinge of compassion that he rarely showed. “You don’t have to face this alone. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever led you to this, we’re going to be with you every step of the way.”

Hotch’s words, so simple and full of promise, were what finally broke the dam. The tears you’d been holding back for so long began to flow, and with them came a wave of emotions you’d been suppressing: the despair, the loneliness, the pain that had consumed you in silence.

Emily wrapped her arms around you, holding you with a strength that anchored you in the present. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to not be okay,” she whispered, her voice shaking with her own pent-up emotions.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you felt like you could breathe, if only barely. The lump in your chest didn’t go away entirely, but the presence of your peers, your friends, gave you the strength you needed to start talking, to share what you’d been keeping to yourself.

You told them about the pressure you’d felt, the feeling that you were failing, that you couldn’t live up to expectations. You told them how each day had gotten harder to bear, until one day you just couldn’t take it anymore. The words came out in fits and starts, mixed with sobs, but they listened to each one with patience and understanding.

There was no judgment, just support. And as you spoke, little by little, you began to feel the weight that had been weighing you down begin to lighten, if only a little.

When you finally finished, the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Spencer was still holding your hand, and his gaze reflected both pain and resolve. “You’re not alone in this. You won’t be anymore,” he said firmly.

Hotch nodded. “We’ll have to work together to get through this, but we will. We’ll help you find the support you need, and we’ll be here for you, too.”

Rossi, who had been watching from the back, came over and gently patted you on the shoulder. “Remember, that’s what family is for, to be there in the worst times and the best too.”

At that moment, although you knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, you also knew that you wouldn’t walk it alone. The team weren't just your colleagues, they were your family, and with them by your side, you began to believe that, perhaps, you could find a way to heal.

And although the darkness still lurked, the light of hope, however small, began to shine again.

ONE YEAR LATER...

1 year into recovery brought with it a new version of you, a version that, while still scarred, both physically and emotionally, was fully committed to moving forward with humor and gratitude. You had rejoined the team fully and found a balance between work, your personal life, and your healing process. Your colleagues had learned to appreciate your new style of humor, even when you surprised them with your comments from time to time.

One afternoon, while you were in the office cafeteria with Emily, JJ, and Garcia, you decided to break the silence with a joke, something you had perfected over those past few months.

“Did you know I’ve developed a new skill?” you said, as you poured yourself a coffee. The three womens looked at you curiously. “Now I can say that I’m an expert in abstract art. I just need something sharp and a bad day.”

There was a moment of surprise, but then Emily was the first to laugh, shaking her head. “You know, no one handles dark humor like you.”

JJ nodded, smiling. “True, but at least now we know you do it with complete command of the situation. Although I will never stop being amazed by your ability to make jokes out of something so serious.”

“Well, my traumas, my jokes,” you said with a wink, and the group burst into laughter. They had learned to take your humor as a sign of your progress, a way to remind yourself and them that you were in control, that you wouldn’t let yourself be overcome by the darkness that once trapped you.

Garcia, who until now had been listening in silence, smiled and gave you a gentle nudge. “You know, I think you should consider writing a self-help book: ‘How to survive work and not go crazy. ’ It could be a best-seller.”

“Sure, with special chapters on how to choose something sharp and how not to use them when you have a bad day,” you joked, and everyone laughed again.

Towards the end of the day, as you were gathering your things to head home, you ran into Rossi in the hallway. He looked at you with his typical knowing expression, but with a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“You know, kid I love seeing you make those jokes. It’s a sign that you’re okay, but it’s also a reminder of how far you’ve come.”

You smiled at him, nodding. “Yeah, Dave, I know. Sometimes, I need to remind myself and others that surviving doesn’t just mean being okay, but learning to laugh at what scared us. And if I don’t do it, who else will?”

Rossi let out a soft laugh. “You know, you can always count on me to be your audience. I’m not as good an audience as Spencer, though.”

“Thanks, Dave. I’ll keep that in mind for my next show.”

As you left, you knew you were surrounded by people who understood you, who supported you, and who accepted every part of you, even the darkest ones. But most importantly, you knew you had found a way to move forward: with a smile on your face, a joke on your lips, and a team that, no matter what, would always be by your side.

And as you walked out the door, ready to face whatever came next, you couldn’t help but make one last comment to yourself. “Well, if I survived the bathtub, I’m ready for anything. I just hope there’s more wine and less blood next time.”

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly🫧

[igotanidea]

(6) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

A/N: I'm damn aware it took me ages, I;m sorry! But - as many people asked for it (@pookieisme4life :D) and I DID HEAR YOU ALL, I hereby give you the preludium to the finale!! :D

MDNI!

TW: mention of self-harm/suicidal thoughts, brief description of rough s*x, bit of violence, swearing

***

FUCK!!

She felt like yelling, screaming, falling to the ground, tearing her eyes out, cutting her wrists, anything to get rid of this heavy feeling in her chest.

SO FUCKING STUPID

Falling into the same pattern of behavior as many more before her and – most probably – many more after her.

She should have known better.

No man in relationship ever leaves the girl for a lover

NO MAN.

EVER.

And yet she thought that him… that Dick… that he would be different.

She thought-

STUPID IDIOTIC IDIOT WITH STUPID UNREALISTIC BELIEFS.

Damn, it sucks to be a woman sometimes.

She hated herself.

Not only because of this stupid dickish Dick Grayson, but also because she acted like a piece of shit towards another girl.

Crossing out every single value she ever held dear to her heart.

Idiot.

***

“So, did you have fun?”

“Sienna-“

“Was she fucking better?!”

“Sienna, honey-“

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare calling me honey, right now!” she lunged at him, trying to slap his cheek, scratch his oh-so-fucking-stupid-pretty-face. To hurt him in any way possible, that could never ever measure the amount of pain she was feeling. Too bad Dick could easily predict her every move and block it with zero effort.

“Just listen to me-“ he grabbed both her wrist and held it to his heart. He should have known that her initial reaction that was almost shockingly calm would turn into a blind rage sooner or later.

Clearly sooner.

“You are –“

“A liar, a cheater and unworthy of your attention.”

“That’s not even close to truth.” Sienna struggled against him.

“What can I do to make it better?” – despite letting go off all the pretenses and running after the girl that really mattered to him?

“Nothing. We’re done here.” Finally she managed to wriggle free, walking towards the wardrobe and started throwing his clothes out.

“Don’t say that-“

“I will say whatever the fuck I want right now!” jackets, shirts, pants and even socks flew In every single direction in the room.

“Stop it- Sienna- Come on- “ he grabbed his favorite piece of clothing before it landed on the ground – “Come on-! Sienna! Stop it-!” before she realized what was happening, he was holding her waist, pressing her against the wall.

The tension in the room were tense enough to stop them from making any move, and yet, for a single moment he was way more scared than in any other life-threatening situation he encountered as Nightwing. She was angry. He saw it in her eyes. But there was also vulnerability and some sense of longing. Dick wasn’t exactly sure what this longing was for, but that look- that look of bambi Sienna put on her face made him act completely recklessly.

He kissed her.

No – not just kissed, that would be a heavy understatement.

He consumed her.

That masculine energy and confidence he was always sporting, took a very surprising form of dominance.

His lips moved with hunger, forcing her to submission, shutting down any objections she might have had, causing her body to respond out of pure instincts, moaning and melting into his arms.

Clothes flew around the room again, but this time for much different – arguably more pleasurable reasons.

He fucked her hard and rough, ending with deep, red, bloody scratches on his back and leaving little dents in the wall due to the way the bedframe kept on hitting it.

And even as he became almost brutal, she never told him to stop. If anything – begged for more, pulling him closer, taking him deeper.

As if the pain he was giving and receiving could in any way make up for the fact that for the entire time they fucked he was seeing y/n’s face.

***

“You almost ruined the entire mission.”

He couldn’t even care much enough to respond.

“Nightwing.”

“Uh-huh….”

“Do you realize you could have compromised – “

“Yeah, whatever-“

“I shall not tolerate-“

Dick rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You are being insubordinate. Do not try to act like your brother. Teenage rebellion doesn’t suit you.”

“Teenage rebellion? Huh! Funny you say it, B, because if anyone, you are acting like a spoiled 5 year old, who gets mad and pouty when someone does a step without his permission.”

“I don’t understand what is happening to you-“

“Of course you fucking don’t!” he finally yelled, spinning around angrily, ready to fight Batman. Instead, however, his eyes grew a little wider in sudden realization. He was not a fucking pawn. He was not a fucking piece of a puzzle Bruce was trying to form to his own liking. (bright discovery for a man his age if you allow me to be a “tad” sarcastic). With that realization he jumped out of the ledge of a building like a acrobat he was and rushed to her apartment.

“NIGHTWING!”

“FUCK YOU BATMAN!”

He was still broken-hearted but for some silly reason, yelling those words into the night, illuminated by Batman’s symbol adjourning the sky like a beacon of hope felt exhilarating. Damn, next thing he knew, he could be joining Jason in his little vendetta against Bruce. How fun would it be? Two brothers, joined by circumstances and similar history, trying to get justice for-

Focus.

“Right, right, focus…” he muttered to himself. “Y/N.”

No matter what, he was going to make things right between them.  

***

Where the hell could she be at 3 am?!

Partying? Not her.

Getting drunk at the bar with guys all over her? Not for long, once he beat them all to shit.

Staying at friend’s? Maybe, but then why was her phone on the nightstand, flickering with unread notifications from a few hours ago?

“Y/N?!” he cried out into the silence of the apartment, hoping against hope that she’d answer.

She was not in the bedroom, bathroom or in the living room.

“LET GO!!”

Oh, so there she was-

Outside.

Clearly in danger.

Dick rushed to the balcony to asses the situation, but before he could do anything, she was knocked down and dragged into a car.

“Y/N!!!” he yelled desperately, but it was no use as the black SUV (the fuck it always had to be black SUVs) took off with a squeal of tires, raising a cloud of dust.

“FUCK!”

There was not much he could do at the moment.

“Come with me.”

 “Huh!”

“Jeez. Chill out, Blue.” a masked persona that appeared out of nowhere, scoffed at him, easily holding back the punch Dick aimed with his escrima sticks.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I know where they took her.”

“huh?”

“your girlfriend.”

“She’s not- well she is, but technically-“

“Focus, idiot!” the person smacked his head. Not hard enough to cause any real damage, but hard enough to made him come back to reality.

Reality in which Y/N was straightforward kidnapped.

“how do you know—”

“I just know. And now I’m your best shot at getting her back in one piece.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust? Ha! God forbid you’d be so foolish to trust me.”

Dick scoffed.

“Where did they take her?”

“Just follow me.”

And just like that, he followed a stranger into danger.

And despite it sounding pretty lightly due to the rhyming, this self-appointed mission was about to change the lives of not one, not two, but a whole group of people.

And maybe – just maybe – some of them – would end up irreversibly changed.

Last part will be the grand finale!!

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p

@leovergurl

[kopilot-pop]

[Tired] pt.2

- Le Sserafim x 6thMember!Reader

Summary: After a harsh criticism from one of your teachers, you started to fall into a bad habit again. You started staying overnight at the company, your knees are always bruised, and you probably shouldn’t have 3 cans of Redbull everyday… Thankfully, your bandmates have easily recognized your behaviors and decided to put it to an end.

Warnings: overworking, self-hate, depression, suicidal intentions (very minor), fainting, hospital, needles,

a/n: sorry for the long wait. This is a bit shorter than I expected, but I hope you guys still enjoy.

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

The horrendous amount of caffeine started to take a toll on you.

During one of the last practices for your comeback, Chaewon stared at you worriedly.

But you were too busy staring at your shaky hands to notice.

After chugging another can of Redbull, you finished the practice and finally turned on your phone. Several missed calls and notifications from your group’s chatroom covered your phone.

You didn’t have the energy to care.

You fell asleep on the couch in the practice room.

You have a comeback tomorrow after all.

-----

Furious is an understatement.

Chaewon is absolutely mad.

The 6 of you gathered at the studio for Music Bank on the day of the comeback. While getting ready with makeup and outfits, you could tell the girls wanted to talk to you but were too busy to.

When you all finally got up to the stage, the jittery feeling became more intense. As the second verse started your stomach started to churn, your throat closed up - you almost missed your lines-

and once again you couldn’t stop staring at your shaky hands with bloodshot eyes.

Until you froze.

Your eyes met Zuha’s. And you watched in slow motion as she ran towards you, barely catching your body before it hit the ground, and the spotlight in front of your eyes shut down.

-----

“…..ays-… y..… med…-”

You finally woke up with a pounding inside your head.

The moment you could blur out the bright light above your head, you could see Sakura’s face and feel the cool cloth on yours.

She was carefully wiping away the sweat on your head and quickly noticed your eyes open.

“Y/n! How are you feeling?”

At the same time, you could hear a loud crash on the other side of the room.

“Y/n unnie woke up?!”

“Y/N ARE YOU OKAY-”

“G..guys… calm down..”

The three younger girls ran up to you, seeming to have been lounging on the couch together.

Eunchae, with teary eyes, pulled you into a tight hug.

“Hey! She’s not stable yet!! Don’t push her around!!”

Your leader walked through the doors to pull down the three puppies from you.

“Thanks..”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Chaewon finally started.

“You passed out on stage Y/n.”

“Chaewon, don’t be too harsh.” Sakura tried her best to keep the situation calm.

“I know unnie- Y/n. You fainted due to malnutrition. When’s the last time you ate anything?”

“…I’m not sure..”

“Of course you’re not sure. The only thing you’ve been putting inside your body was energy drinks-”

“Unnie..”

“No- We were all thinking so I’m just gonna say it- We thought you were gonna die Y/n.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that you could almost laugh. Almost.

“Why would y-”

“You were barely home, working like a slave every fucking day, starving, and depending on pain meds- so yeah, OF COURSE WE THOUGHT THE WORSE!!”

You finally gained the courage to look up at her teary eyes.

“Do you understand the amount of fear I felt when I saw you drop to the ground yesterday?! How terrified we felt when you didn’t wake up when Yunjin screamed your name?!!”

“I-..”

“Kazuha carried you to the hospital because she was too scared that something might happen to you if she let go!! Can you even imagine being that scared?!”

You looked down at your lap, fiddling with the needle(IV drip) inside your hand. Sakura gently held your hand to stop you.

“That’s enough Chaewon.” She said.

She’s never stern, but this time she was. Sakura gave you this look, something just like the one your mother always gave you.

Worried, angry, but somehow warm.

“We were scared Y/n.. More than the fainting, I was scared of losing you just like last time…”

Last time? Oh yeah. You almost killed yourself during debut.

“We care about you. You know that. All 5 of us love and cherish you, sometimes even more than anybody else in the world. And watching you slowly fade away like that just…”

She started to choke up. It was rare to see her like that, so you instinctively shot out to pull her into a hug.

Holding onto you, as you might just fade away, Sakura softly sobbed into your shoulder.

When you felt another weight on your back, you turned around to see the youngest also snuggling into you. Probably the person you mostly didn't want to catch you in such a depressing state.

"I...I'm sorr-"

Yunjin, with the same teary face all the others choked out;

"It's not your fault."

She slid next to the edge of the bed, gently holding onto Sakura's hand right on top of yours.

"I wanted to be better. Good enough to stand by you guys. I just wanted to-" You felt the tears finally fall free from your eyes as Chaewon with the same frown (albeit a bit softer) held your face.

Gentle. God, they were all so gentle with you.

"You are. You are good enough. You are good."

Watching you sob out, Kazuha finally joined into the pile, right next to Yunjin as she dries your tears with her old sweater sleeves.

You let out another ugly cry as you feel the 5 girls' warmth trap you. You forgot that you were good enough. You forgot how loved you were.

But just like always, they were there to remind you once again.

"You're loved Y/n. By us, always."

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

[13eyond13]

Really appreciating in Berserk how The Count's chapters in the Black Swordsman arc can be used as a parallel for what's going on emotionally with Griffith, especially leading up to and during the Eclipse.

For me it starts with Theresia explaining to Puck the dark transformation that took place in her father whenever he first used the Behelit. She explains it like so: "Father was a great ruler. He may have been harsh, but that was so he could defend his kingdom against neighboring enemies. He was trusted and loved by all, even as a father."

"But father changed. Like a man possessed, he started hunting down heretics. Now it doesn't even make a difference anymore whether they're heretics or not! It's almost as if he enjoys hurting people! I'm scared. Sometimes i feel as if he's not human anymore."

Puck reflects on this afterwards by thinking:

"For revenge on the heretics who robbed him of the woman he loved? Is that why he acquired demonic powers? He summoned the Godhand and he himself became a demon?"

It is also revealed soon after this by the Godhand that The Count's wife was not in fact killed by heretics, like Theresia had been told. The Count had discovered that his wife was being unfaithful to him, which initially drove him to suicidal thoughts (kind of like a certain somebody else we know during an extremely dark period in his life):

"Seeing the triumphant, knowing smile of your betrayer drove you to the depths of despair. You decided to end your own life to escape that despair. However, your despair itself was part of the wheel of fate."

Until, instead of ending his own life, The Count decided to use her for his first sacrifice instead:

"Yes indeed, you said it! 'I offer this woman for sacrifice.' The life you couldn't take by your own hand, the life of the person you loved and hated the most! You gave it to us! So that you could bury your fragile human heart."

The Count is also acting sneeringly arrogant towards Guts during their battle, belittling him by saying things to him like:

"No matter how much you've tried to hone your skills, you've come to the limit of your pathetic human form. How fragile you humans."

Puck is NOT having any of this from The Count, and he counters that remark with: "...You yourself used to be one of those fragile humans!"

"You acquired those powers so you could get revenge on the heretics, didn't you?! But that wasn't the only reason. If it was only about revenge, all you had to do was exercise your authority."

"The truth is, you became this thing to run away from the pain inside your own heart! To run away from yourself! You threw away your humanity! If anyone's a fragile human, it's you!"

Cue Griffith as Femto showing up for the very first time, and then almost immediately also attempting to belittle Guts, saying:

"Still squirming around in your pitiful existence, I see..."

"Black Swordsman, you say? His petty existence is beneath our notice."

Guts ALSO isn't having any of that, and replies: "My petty existence? Don't make me laugh! You're where you are now thanks to this petty existence. Thanks to me, who's fighting an army of the dead because of you! Thanks to me who's writhing around in my own blood!"

"You stand there putting on airs like you're some kind of godly being! Griffith!" To which Griffith coolly replies: "Yes... You're nothing but a squirming, sacrificial offering."

HOWEVER. What is then explained directly after that to everybody by The Godhand?

That an acceptable sacrifice for the Invocation of Doom can only be somebody that you genuinely care about.

Guts cannot be used for The Count's second sacrifice, not only because Griffith had already marked him as a sacrifice, but because according to the Godhand:

"The boy is merely your enemy... It must be someone important to you, part of your soul. Someone so close to you that it's almost like giving up a part of you... By making such a sacrifice to demonkind, you'll be able to sever any remnants of your own humanity. A fissure in your heart will open up into which evil will surge."

So for The Count, the only proper candidate left is his daughter Theresia. And Griffith urges him to make this final choice by saying:

"Cut your love asunder, Count!"

So taking ALL of this into account, is Griffith calling Guts "nothing but a squirming sacrificial offering" actually really that sick of a burn? Hmmm.... idk, but it really makes u think.....

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment Prologue (II)

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.2K

Prologue | Masterlist | Part I

As you and your mentor entered a room with the tube that would put you into the arena, your fear finally came to the forefront of your mind. Your breath became erratic as you confronted your almost guaranteed imminent death. Haymitch noticed your sudden stiffness, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re smarter than any of them. You only have to do this once. Okay?”

Seeing his sincerity and hope, your facade broke. “I don’t wanna die,” you finally admitted, tears pricking your eyes.

That broke his heart. You had spent so long convincing yourself and everyone else you were okay with dying. As upset as he had been because you were so willing to leave him, he admired your composure. But now there was a scared girl in your place. Haymitch knew you couldn’t win. You had only scored a 3 in your training. No one would bet on that. And while you had managed to survive alone in 12 for eight years, maybe you had been right. Maybe you were only able to survive in the Seam where people were indifferent and sometimes even kind. Here, your death would only benefit others.

Pushing all those thoughts aside for your sake, Haymitch gained the slightest smile. “There she is,” he murmured. “I know you can do it. You’ve actually struggled to survive on your own. The others probably can’t say the same. C’mere,” he said, pulling you into a hug. You reveled in the first comforting touch in god knows how long. His chin rested on top of your head. “You’re gonna run away from the cornucopia and then steal supplies. No fighting, okay? You’re gonna fly under the radar. That’s how you survived in 12, right?”

“Thirty seconds,” an automated voice came over the speaker, telling you that you had to get in the tube.

Haymitch finally pulled away. “I’ll see you soon,” he tried his hardest to smile, wiping away your tears. You returned his strained smile before unsteadily making your way to the tube.

Haymitch kept his facade up until you were out of view, having been lifted into the arena. He almost immediately pulled out his flask, taking a deep swig.

~

Being pushed up into the arena you were blinded by the sun and immediately confronted with a nearly unbearable heat. Gathering your bearings, you observed the arena. It looked like some sort of canyon. From what you could see, it wasn’t very wide in some spots. The largely empty field surrounding the cornucopia looked to stretch about a mile behind you before you could spot some trees. It’d be a long time before you could get cover, you just hoped that the others would be too distracted fighting each other to notice you running for a mile.

Turning your attention back to the cornucopia you spotted all sorts of weapons and supplies. Based on the heat you were tempted to try to grab some water but you kept Haymitch’s words in mind. Not to mention that if you went towards the cornucopia you lost valuable time to get to cover.

15… the timer read. 10… 5… 3, 2, 1! The buzzer went and you immediately turned, running for the trees.

You ran for god knows how long. You weren’t sure if anyone was following you but you were too afraid to look back. Afraid of turning around to see your fellow children slaughtering one another. Afraid of seeing someone chasing you, and even worse, slowing down enough, incidentally, so they could catch you. So you kept going until you finally reached the trees and even further after that. You finally let yourself slow to a stop in order to catch your breath.

Completely alone and without any supplies, you knew you needed to find someone soon so you wouldn’t die of exposure or be completely defenseless. But upon hearing a twig snap, you came to the conclusion that you weren’t in the position to run anyone yet so you continued running.

~

You eventually moved to the edge of the forest, figuring that if any singular tribute had set up camp in the open you’d be able to spot them easier. You had spent the better part of the afternoon learning to climb trees. While you lacked the muscle to actually climb, you made up for it with a malnourished frame that allowed you to climb up tree limbs that would snap under a career’s weight. You eventually figured it out, fortunately in time to see a fire spark up about a hundred yards from you.

But as you were watching the fire the Capitol music began to play, blue light flooding the sky. Looking up, you could see the fallen being projected onto the night sky. You counted as they went. The District 3 girl, District 4 girl, District 6 boy, both tributes from District 8 and 11, and finally Alder. Eight in total. Fairly low bloodbath, you had seen as many as 3/4 of the tributes get wiped out in the first 10 minutes before.

You weren’t sure how to feel about Alder. Yeah, he had been a dick but he was still a person. A person you knew. Who had a life and a family. You were sure those who knew him were wishing it had been you instead of him. Hell, you were only alive because Haymitch had only mentored you. And he had told you to run away. You were also relieved you wouldn’t have to kill him. Trying to shake off the knowledge of your district-mate’s demise, you turned your attention back to the fire.

Whoever had started a fire in the middle of a field wasn’t completely stupid. They were surrounded by a few boulders and rocks, judging by the weakness of the fire you wouldn’t have spotted it if you weren’t up in the trees.

You waited for a while until the fire was out, signaling that the tribute was asleep. So you crept from the trees, praying that this poor child you were about to kill had supplies so it’s be worth it. You couldn’t really afford to let your humanity get in the way if you were going to have any shot at getting home.

~

Haymitch watched the games from the penthouse. This had been the first year in a while he had actually sat down to watch the games. He never bothered to watch the hopeful kids he was forced to meet get slaughtered. But he watched this year, proud of you for running away and figuring out how to climb.

The cameras had only been focused on the careers ever since night fell. He supposed everyone was alone because when no fighting was going on, they only played the footage of ally interactions. The careers had formed a group. All of them except for the District 4 girl who had been killed with a spear to the chest while fighting over it with the boy from 7 during the bloodbath.

The careers had set up camp, the boy from 1 already establishing himself as their leader, having killed the boys from Districts 6 and 11, and then both tributes from 8.

But the coverage of their little bonding session was interrupted by cameras focused on the sleeping girl from 5 and you, creeping across the field.

“What do we have here?” Caesar asked the audience and Lucius Caecilius, this year’s other announcer, rhetorically.

“It looks like the District 12 girl, Y/N L/N, is on the move. The question is, if Necole Carrick wakes up, who will win in a fight?”

“My money is on Carrick. She has supplies, L/N is completely defenseless,” Caesar explained.

“Let’s see,” Caecilius said as you finally reached the girl from 5.

Haymitch watched in anticipation as you perched yourself on a rock, just above the sleeping girl. He held his breath, could you actually do this? His heart stopped as you carefully reached down, slipping the knife out of the girl’s hand. He watched you sigh in relief as you grabbed it. The camera was focused on your face as you seemed to steel yourself before softly leaping onto the ground next to her before quickly swiping the blade through the girl’s carotid artery. You jumped as the canon went off, showing the audience how shaky you were. Tears were pouring down your face as you grabbed the backpack and any other supplies before running out of the field, safely into the trees.

~

By the time the sun came back up, the tears on your face had dried and there was a puddle of vomit at the base of the tree. You had found some dried meat in the pack so you had nibbled a little on that, careful not to waste your rations. But eating had helped you stop shaking enough to climb down the tree. Unfortunately, the pack hadn’t contained any water, but it did have an empty water bottle so you set off to find water.

You had stuck to the walls of the canyons, figuring that if you had to climb them, you could. There wasn’t much room to grip them but it was possible. Fortunately, the trees still provided enough shade for your pursuit of water to not be dire.

As you continued on you became less confident until you noticed something. You couldn’t be sure but you were pretty sure you had reached a point where the walls of the canyon were curving into you. But as you continued on, you found an opening in the wall. It was mostly covered by vegetation and would go unnoticed had you not been following this wall for hours. Seeing as there were few reasons for you not to go in, you went, finding that it sloped down into the ground. Continuing on, it became lighter. Streams of light came from thinly covered holes in the ceiling, up into what you realized was the main arena. It was a miracle you hadn’t fallen down here.

As you were realizing this may be a good place to hide, you could hear it. Running water. You practically cried in relief, moving closer to it. As you reached a small stream, you immediately kneeled to the ground, scooping the water into your hands. You had learned that running water was less likely to contain dangerous pathogens or bacteria but you should still boil it. Regardless, you didn’t care. You finally had water.

After cleaning yourself off a little and filling your water bottle you continued on, following the stream. But as you went, you heard footsteps above you. Making sure to stay out of view from the streams of lights, you waited for the footsteps to be gone. But they never went away, instead, the boy from District 10, the boy who had ogled at you in the elevator, fell into the cavern. You didn’t waste a second jumping on top of him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as disoriented as you thought he would’ve been because he tossed you off effortlessly.

The next thing you knew he was on top of you, his fists wildly hitting you. Getting your feet under him, you were able to kick him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Distracting him enough that you could kick him off of you. You fumbled for the knife in your pack as you noticed him crawling towards his fallen sword. Seeing him, you disregarded the knife in your bag, going towards the sword. You managed to reach it before him but just before he could grab the handle, you had to grab the blade. You nicked your hand but were too high on adrenaline to notice. You slipped it from his grasp before grabbing the handle, swinging it down into his head before running off.

You could hear his screams of agony as you ran back to the entrance, afraid his screams would draw other tributes. You certainly didn’t want to be trapped down here with the careers, being trapped in a canyon with them was bad enough. But by the time you reached the surface, a canon went off. Unless another tribute had been killed, at least District 10’s suffering had ended.

You no longer felt safe on the ground, you couldn’t just stay in one tree, and you certainly wouldn’t be able to just jump from tree to tree so you began to look to the canyons. There were ledges higher up you could theoretically walk across, it would just be a struggle to reach them. So you prepared yourself, subjecting yourself to bleeding fingers until you finally reached a ledge you could actually stand on. It was about 10 feet off the ground and went decently far. So you walked back towards the Cornucopia, occasionally climbing down and up as ledges got too thin and you had to go to another one.

You continued on like this for a while until you spotted the blonde hair of District 4’s male tribute. He was alone, unusual for a career tribute. You made sure he was alone before silently making your way down the canyon. He didn’t notice you as you followed him for a bit. Eventually, he stopped, turning to the canyon wall before unzipping his pants. You hesitated for a second, not wanting to be put in that position but this was your best opportunity so you took it.

As he finished, you crept up behind him, quickly wrapping your arm around his head, pulling it back so you could easily draw your knife across his throat. He tried to scream, but you cut so deep he couldn’t. This time you watched, blood pouring from his throat as the life left his eyes. Once the canon went off, you knew you wouldn’t have much time so you quickly took the belt lined with blades before running off, not wanting to risk the other careers seeing you as you tried to climb.

Reaching another remote area, you slung the blades around your hips before climbing up into a tree for the night. You hadn’t slept in nearly two days so you knew you’d have to figure something out tonight.

As you were settling down you heard chimes from above. Looking up at the sky you found a silver parachute floating down towards you. It got caught in the leaves of the branch you were on, forcing you to precariously balance on the end to reach it. How ironic it would be if you died in the Capitol’s game while reaching the thing the Capitol gifted you to survive.

You managed to grab it, settling back where you had been before opening it. First, you saw a note.

Good job, sweetheart - Haymitch

You couldn’t help but be embarrassed of the heat building in your cheeks but you tried to ignore it. Opening up the container you found some sort of salve. Unsure of what it was you reached a finger into it, immediately noticing a soothing sensation on your torn up finger. You looked at it, noticing the blood was stopping so you quickly spread it over your marred hands and any other random scrapes you had gained from all the climbing practice.

You sighed at the soothing relief, resting against the grunt of the tree.

~

“Well, it’s been an unusually bloody second day, this looks like this may be the quickest Hunger Games in a while,” Caesar recapped for the audience.

“Yes, it has,” Caecilius agreed. “For those of you unable to tune in today the allies from Districts 1, 2, and 4 decided to split up today. Unusual behavior for this alliance as usually the members of this group, known as the careers, stick together until they start fighting one another. But they had a fairly successful day. Collectively they eliminated the male tributes from Districts 3 and 5, the girls from 6, 7, and 10, as well as both tributes from 9.”

“And in a surprise, Y/N L/N has eliminated the males from Districts 4 and 10. I’d like to remind everyone that she scored a 3 in her training evaluation,” Caesar reminded, looking genuinely surprised at her success.

“Clever one, she is. She kept the careers’ focus away from her. Only a matter of time before the remaining careers figure out she’s the one who killed their ally.”

“They seem to be figuring it out right now,” Caesar laughed as the cameras focused on the remaining careers.

Today's deaths were being projected into the sky and they had noticed their ally’s death. They were currently trying to track the canon fire today to figure out who could have done it. Trying to determine whether or not the killer had already been eliminated. But as they discussed they failed to mention the possibility of District 12’s female tribute.

“Oh, seems they’re forgetting someone,” Caesar laughed.

“Can you blame them?” Caecilius laughed along with Caesar. “I don’t believe a female tribute from 12 has made it past the first day since the 50th games when Haymitch Abernathy won.” Caesar murmured in agreement before he changed everyone’s attention to recounting today’s deaths, playing them on the screen.

“I’ll just say, everyone better watch out for L/N, she’s a sneaky one,” he commented as the video of Piers’ death was played.

~

You were woken up by a canon. Based on last night’s light show it was just you and the careers. Fuck. You were their target now. Unless they were stupid enough to think they were the only ones left and they were killing each other right now, saving you some trouble. But you weren’t quite that lucky as you heard voices.

You cursed internally as you realized the careers were literally walking below you now. You could hear them. “Who the hell is left?” a female voice demanded. “I’m pretty sure everyone else is gone.” You rolled your eyes, why would she admit that?

“No,” a male voice interrupted. “There’s one person left. I’m not sure who but eight died the first day, ten yesterday, and we just killed one more. There’s one more person left.”

“Well then, who the fuck is it?” She then began listing both tributes from each district, including you. “Who else is left?”

“I don’t know, but the math doesn’t lie. Eight plus ten plus one equals nineteen. Twenty-four minus nineteen equals five.”

“Whatever,” another male voice interrupted. “We’ll do what we did yesterday. If we split up, we can find whoever is left.”

“But that’s how Piers died!” the other girl protested.

“You know only one of us get out, right?” the last male who spoke corrected her. “If we kill whoever else is left, we ensure it’s one of us. And we all know one of us deserves to go home more than this last pest, right?” The others murmured in agreement before splitting off to find you.

As you waited to ensure you were alone you steeled yourself. You’ve already killed three people. If you just left everything behind and killed four more people, you could end this today and go home. But before you climbed down, you heard the chiming of another parachute. Looking up, you found another silver parachute floating down towards you. You reached out, letting it fall into your palm. Opening up, you found a note.

Get your strength up before you win this thing - Haymitch

You couldn’t help the smile that crept over your lips as you opened the container, revealing a stew. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were as you quickly ate, uncaring that you didn’t have any utensils. By the time you had finished, you had calmed down enough to set off on your mission.

It didn’t take long before you found the girl from District 2. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as dumb as District 4’s male tribute because she noticed you coming. She immediately chucked a spear at you as she turned to face you. You were able to move enough so it wouldn’t pierce your torso but it did manage to graze your shoulder.

Seeing as she didn’t manage to kill you, she immediately began running. She was fast. So, doing the only thing you could think of, you threw one of the knives in your belt at her. You were surprised the blade found its mark, sinking into her back. She fell but she wasn’t done yet so you walked over, taking her spear and stabbing it into the back of her neck.

As you continued on you noticed the thinly covered spots in the ground. Realizing that moving around unseen was a tremendous advantage, you slipped underground, ensuring you didn’t break anything in your descent. You first located the stream, replenishing your water before continuing on. You listened for footsteps as you went, almost giving up until you heard the light footsteps of who you assumed to be District 1’s female tribute.

Following the path of her footsteps, you tracked her, waiting until she was close enough to a hole for you to make your move. As soon as she was, you jumped, pulling yourself out of the earth. You had been planning to drag her underground but based on her scream, she saw you. You cursed as you dragged yourself up, giving chase to her.

She wasn’t nearly as fast as the girl from 2 because you caught up with her easily, tackling her to the ground. She struggled against you, starting a flurry of swinging limbs as both of you tried to get the upper hand. She was a lot bigger than you, attributed to her better nutrition, but she still struggled against you, screaming the names of her allies.

As you continued struggling you realized you’d have to shut her up quickly and get the hell out of there before it became two or three against one.

You found the strength to pin her, sitting on her back before sending a knife into her jugular. Just as the canon went off, you heard a yell. “Historia!” the boy from District 2 called in horror. Shit. He was huge. You’d never be able to beat him by brute force. So you ran. You went for the nearest tree that didn’t look impossible to climb but once you were about three feet off the ground, you felt a yank pull you down to the ground. Hard. You fell with so much force you were pretty sure he broke a rib because your chest exploded in pain.

You watched in horror as he swung his sword up, poised to lodge itself in your head but, with much effort, you rolled away just in time. You struggled to your feet, still holding your ribs. You threw a knife as best as you could which lodged itself into his arm. But he just ripped it out before running towards you with a sword. You jumped out of the way, once again, just in time. You knew this wouldn’t last, you were way more injured than him. As he ran at you again, you prepared to accept your death until you heard a yell. Opening your eyes you saw half of him was underground, leaving only his torso still above the earth. The only reason he hadn’t fallen completely through was because the sword sticking through his chest was lodged in some rocks, keeping him propped up.

You gasped at the sight. He looked up at you, tears in his eyes. “What are you looking at?!” he yelled. “C’mon, you did this! Kill me!” he demanded. His face was full of rage and pain, so much so you couldn’t tell if he genuinely wanted you to end his suffering or not. You would have if it weren’t for his flailing arms you were sure would try to drag you to death with him. So you turned, leaving him screaming as you stumbled towards the cornucopia to finish this.

You continued on for what seemed like forever. The pain in your chest was only getting worse as breathing became harder. The only, very slight, relief was the sound of the canon as the boy from District 2 finally died. The only question was whether he had succumbed to his injuries or if the final tribute, the boy from District 1, had put him out of his misery and told him to be careful of you. Either way, you knew you had to get the drop on District 1. You couldn’t beat him by brute force, especially in this state. So you went to the Cornucopia, waiting for him inside and trying not to fall asleep.

~

“C’mon, don’t fall asleep,” Haymitch murmured to himself as he literally sat on the edge of his seat.

The sponsors who had sent you food and medicine sat around him, watching too. Everyone was shocked when you started picking off the careers, even more so when you managed to avoid death at District 2’s hands. He had nearly let the tears fall when the boy had dragged you to the ground, clearly injuring you severely. But you managed to survive and now you just had one more obstacle to overcome.

“Oh, here comes Blackford,” Caesar announced as the boy from District 1 ran out towards the cornucopia.

He stood in front of it, arms stretched out, with a sword in one hand. “C’mon! I know you’re out there,” he bellowed. “Let’s finish this!”

“Here she comes,” Caecilius announced as you slipped out of the cornucopia. You stepped up behind the boy, wrapping your arms around him, blade poised exactly like you had when you killed Piers.

Murmurs of excitement grew the closer you got to him, and cheers exploded as the canon went off and the boy from 1 fell at your feet. There were several congratulations to Haymitch and your sponsors as he tried not to cry in relief. You were alive. You were gonna be okay.

Prologue | Masterlist | Part I

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose III (Lost Sinclair!Daughter AU)

Hi everybody, this is the third part of a new Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family. You can find part I here and part II here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of suicide and death, mentions of potential abuses, murderous!reader

You found where you thought Ambrose was on a map and you showed it to your dad. You told him about the House of Wax advertisements on the roads too. 

And he left, while you spent time with your mother. 

You couldn’t focus on what she was telling you because you were giddy, like when you were a small child. Giddy, like when you were waiting for your father to come back home so you could greet him by jumping into his embrace. For the first time in years, you were hopeful, you were almost happy. Everything was going to be alright very soon.

After an hour or so, your adoptive father phoned your mother. He said he found Ambrose and found your biological father. He said Bo Sinclair seemed to be quite a decent man, even if the town was quite strange. And more importantly, Bo Sinclair was more than eager to meet his daughter. ASAP. Your mother convinced your father to come back to the hotel so they could have a little chat. Your father agreed and left Ambrose without troubles. He had no idea he was the first man, estranged to the Sinclairs, who had ever been able to leave Ambrose alive since Ambrose became a dangerous ghost town. 

Your adoptive dad was a little bit scared his daughter would pick another father over him, but at the same time he hoped you would know who was loving you the most and the best. He was certain that Bo, even if he was being polite for the moment, probably did something terrible for your biological mother to kill herself like she did. He thought you might remember the abuses you went through and you would understand you needed to cut the Sinclairs from your life… forever.

On the other hand, Bo was losing it with hope and relief. His baby girl was alive. His baby girl was on her way back home. Everything was finally going to be alright again. He wasn’t too sure how he was going to explain to you about the murders and the truth behind the House of Wax, but he was certain you would understand. You weren’t going to be afraid of him, because to you he wasn’t a monster, he was your father. And he loved you more than everything, even more than his dead mother who never loved him back.

Bo had given to your adoptive father a phone number so your parents could call him whenever you all would be ready to come to Ambrose. Bo had invited your parents and yourself for a little family dinner with both your uncles as well. Bo was ready to do absolutely anything to get you back. He had begged both the Devil and God so much for this day to finally come, for his daughter to finally be back home, where she belonged. 

Even if you were a little bit disappointed, you agreed you would enjoy your holiday and on the last day, you would greet the Sinclairs for dinner at Ambrose. You spent some good time with your adoptive parents. Deep down, you knew it would be the last time you would be with them like that. You might not remember Bo very well, you knew he wasn’t going to let you go that easily once he would see you again. You didn’t mind, even if you were concerned about what goodbyes with your adoptive parents were going to look like. 

You thought the end of the week would never come and you realised your excitement even made you forget about your usual need to kill to stay calm and quiet.

After a few days, it was time to go to Ambrose. Your mother was so on edge that she needed to be the one driving, so she could focus on something and calm down. You watched the roads, trying to remember them by heart as your mother drove to your hometown, following your father’s directions. She parked in front of the house, at the end of the town. 

You recognised everything. You recognised how empty the place was, despite the wax statues. You recognised the smell of danger lingering around, you recognised your home. You calmed down for the first time in years. You closed your eyes and leaned into your seat. You were back. Everything was going to be alright again. It had to be. 

Or you would kill everyone, and yourself.

Your parents turned toward you.

“Are you sure it is what you want? We can still leave.” you father said but you shook your head

“I want to be here” you replied

“If you feel like you don’t want to do any of this anymore, you just have to show us the door, okay? And we’ll leave. The most important thing is that you feel safe, okay? We won’t let anything happen to you.” your mother promised and you smiled

“It’s going to be alright, I’m sure of it” you said

“I just want you to keep in mind that your father is probably someone dangerous. It’s both a greeting… and probably a goodbye” she added and her husband nodded

“It’s important to know where you come from, but it’s also important to let go of the past, especially when it is a toxic past” he said and you found yourself nodding. 

You would have agreed to anything as long as it meant going back into your house.

Bo opened the front door to greet the three of you. He tried to play it cool but he was impatient, too impatient to even wait for you to knock at the door. 

He shook hands with your parents before his attention went on you. He looked you up and down and did his best to stay calm. Deep down, he wanted to cry and scream for not having seen his daughter growing up. He was desperate to see how the light in your eyes seemed to have died down. He hated he hadn’t been able to protect you and to find you after your mother left with just a message on the kitchen table saying “Happy Birthday, Bo. This is the day you lost everything”.

Most importantly, he was very excited to see you again. You were so beautiful, so perfect. He was certain you were the smartest as he saw you quickly looking around and taking everything in your surroundings. Vincent could gesture like that too. He tried not to think you were looking like an angel of death, a killer. His baby darling couldn’t be a killer, not yet, not when she had grown up so far away from the corruption of Ambrose.

He came closer to hug you but your parents blocked him. 

“We would be grateful if you wouldn’t touch her… We don’t know what are your intentions toward her” Your mother said and you recognised the pure anger moving through his eyes before disappearing. He gave her his most charming smile and nodded.

The Sinclairs agreed they wouldn’t kill your parents right away. They needed you to say out you were a Sinclair, one of them before that. They needed you to choose them, and they would do anything for that. Even if it meant taking the risk of having your parents around Ambrose several times.

Bo instantly noticed how silent you were and it concerned him.

Your parents and yourself greeted Lester and Vincent as you arrived into the kitchen. Your parents exchanged a look as they noticed Vincent’s mask.

“My brother’s got some scars he’d rather hide behind a mask, don’t worry ‘bout it” Bo explained, trying to not sound too annoyed. 

He was the only one who could judge his brother. He couldn’t stand anyone else looking at his twin as if he was part of a freak show. Your parents apologised and you all settled down.

The silence was deafening, as you looked around the house, taking into everything once again.

Nothing had changed, unlike you. 

Bo and your uncles looked older than when you were a child too, of course. But they didn’t really change. You recognised Lester’s soft light and warmth. He smiled at you with pure kindness. But you could see past it, you could tell that despite the love he still had for you, there was some hidden darkness. An even more dangerous one for Vincent. You recognised his presence right away, you recognised how his silence seemed to be the same one before a storm. He was quietly analysing everything and everyone but you felt at ease, unlike your parents. More importantly, you felt your father’s love for you. You recognised the way he looked at you as if you meant the world to him. You recognised his anger, hidden away inside his heart, like yours. You recognised him in yourself and yourself in him. You were home.

The Sinclairs noticed your necklace.

“Still got that jewel, hmm?” Lester said, trying to chat with you like he used to. You looked up at him as your hand reached for the comforting feeling of the necklace under your fingers. You smiled and nodded before signing:

“Never removed it”

The brothers kept a straight face but panic grew inside of them. Why were you using ASL? Why couldn’t they hear your voice? 

“She said…” your mother started but Bo cut her off:

“We all know ASL here; Vincent is mute. But ya’re not, ain’t ya?” he asked you

“Of course she is, when social care found her, she wasn’t talking” Your mother said as you shrugged

“Did your mother do anythin’ to ya?” Bo asked as he leaned toward you. He had no idea what truly happened, apart from the fact that you got taken away from him “Do ya know where she is now?”

“She took me away, saying she had a gift for you. When we arrived at the social care centre, she killed herself” you replied “I don’t remember much. But I didn’t forget this house” you smiled as you gestured around. You wanted to change the subject, you didn’t want to talk about your mother.

But Bo was too upset about the news. He thought she might have killed herself since the police never came into Ambrose and since he never saw her again. Plus, it was the only option for her to keep you away from him: otherwise he would have had a lead to find you and she didn’t want that. She wanted to punish Bo for the man he was, for the monster everyone could see in him and in his brothers.

“I’m sorry we have not been able to protect ya from her… She was sick, but I never thought she’d take ya away from me, us.” Bo told you “We should’ve done better for ya” he continued, regret lacing his voice.

“We heard you actually were the abusive one and her mother saved her from this place” your mother said. She wasn’t afraid to speak up but she thought that maybe she should have talked about the police or someone before coming here.

“Obviously, we don’t know everything that happened here. Y/N really wanted to come here, but it doesn’t mean we trust any of you with her” your adoptive father continued. It angered the Sinclairs a lot more than they showed it. Bo and Lester hummed and smiled. They didn’t want your legal guardians to be afraid of them, especially when they didn’t know who was aware of your presence in Ambrose.

“I believe my daughter can tell I’ve never hurt her in any way” Bo replied “Y/N had always been very important to me, to us three. I hope ya never forgot this, love” he smiled at you and you smiled back

“I thought you didn’t look for me. I heard a lot of bad things too, because of what mother did and said.”

“I swear we all look for ya, but ya were out of reach and gosh I prayed so much for ya to find your way back home. And ya finally did.” Bo whispered, you could hear the emotions swirling inside his voice. You were still wanted, you were still loved by your father.

“Y/N might have found her way back here… It doesn’t mean she’ll let go of her actual life. She is soon going to go to college after all, in only one year.” your mother said and she was quite proud of you.

“That’s great!” Lester exclaimed, even if Bo wasn’t too glad about this news. Your education was important but it was getting in the way of his plans to get you back.

“What subject are you interested in?” Vincent signed to you

“Medecine” you signed “but I’m also very good in my art classes. So if I fail medical school, I can still be an artist” you said

“But we all know you will be a great doctor, hon” your mother cooed

“Like your grandfather and grandmother then” Bo hummed in approval as well “I knew you’d inherited of the best of everything in the family” he added and you smiled even more “Ya’re the heir of the Sinclair, so I guess that’s normal”

“Y/N isn’t your heir anymore. Do you realise that child care and the State didn’t even know about her before her mother brought her to them? She didn’t exist and thanks to the situation, the administration had been able to fix the issues quite quickly. As a matter of fact, you never recognised her as your daughter, so she can’t be your heir or a Sinclair.” your mother said

“Look, ma’am I’m doin’ my best here for all of us to have a nice dinner, so maybe ya could be nicer as well” Bo said with a look of danger in the eyes

“It’s okay, mom is always protective of me” you signed to calm Bo down. He disliked the fact you recognised her as your mother, because it meant you recognised the other man as your father. He couldn’t stand the idea alone, so the proof you were accepting your adoptive family as your family was unbearable.

“Of course I'm protective of you… especially when we see how dangerous the world can be.”

“Always told that to my daughter” Bo agreed for the first time with your mother

You all stayed silent for a little moment.

“Ambrose sounds very… quiet. At least, it feels like a safe enough place. You see, there is some sort of serial killer murdering people in the city we live in, and around it as well” your adpotive father said, trying to find a new subject of conversation

“We live in a mad world” your mother whined

“A serial killer? And ya didn’t move out? Not even for Y/N's safety?!” Bo asked, he couldn’t help but be worried about your safety. He knew how dangerous people could be indeed. Gosh, he couldn’t wait for you to move back to Ambrose so he would be able to keep an eye on you.

“I’m no prey” you shook your head wich was very thought provoking for the Sinclairs

“What kind of art do you enjoy making?” Vincent asked to change the subject

“Sculpture” you instantly replied and without any hesitation “Speaking of, how is the House of Wax doing?” you asked back

“Oh, you remember it. :) It’s going well.” you could feel Vincent was excited in the way he signed back to you

“I’d like to visit it again. You must have done so many new sculptures since I left.” you replied

“I’m not sure we’ll have time for that, hon” your mother intervened. 

The twins hoped they would soon be able to turn your adoptive parents into wax statues and hide them away in one of the abandoned houses.

You simply nodded in agreement, which annoyed the Sinclairs. As a child, you never agreed with anyone who didn’t want to let you do what you wanted. You were strong minded, you were determined and you were smart. They hated to see you so docile.

Soon enough the dinner was over and the Sinclairs couldn’t force the three of you to stay any longer. You got up with your adoptive parents, as they were getting ready to go. You quickly walked to Bo and hugged him, before anyone could stop you. He hugged you back, as tightly as he could without hurting you, and kissed the top of your head.

“Missed ya” he whispered “So much”

“I’ll be back soon” you signed to him, your back to your parents so they couldn’t read your hands “I promise.”

And with this promise, the Sinclairs let you all go, unharmed, hoping you would keep your words.

They needed their heir.

And more importantly, they needed their sun back.

--

PART IV

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Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210

[f-15-h]

This only time I will tried to write a AU out because my friend and I wanna see horrible stuff happen to D16 in a shrine maiden story that’s kinda fatal frame inspired

Warning for some blood and gore

Also I’m not really good at this

I’m going to base cybertron’s official religion on worship Primus and the 13 Primes

Orion come from a village far from Iacon that only worship primus and in their tales primus is quite malevolent and all transformers life it’s an exchange. Because of that village have a tradition of live sacrifice of every 50 cycles they will sacrifice a cogless shrine maiden by using the impalement ritual to Primus. D16 comes online without a cog and was taken away and raised to be the next shrine maiden. The cogless shrine maiden are free of earthly attachments and when they are out in the public during celebrations they masked their faces so people wouldn’t know what they look like.

Orion was the village troublemaker before his family moved to Iacon for better opportunities prior to this decade’s ritual, accidentally broken into the temple’s back yard in fall on top of the shrine maiden. Those two became friends somehow. And occasionally Orion will try to sneak D out of the shrine at night. Orion got beaten up few times for seeing D’s face, almost every time they get caught (which is only 2time ) D would cover for him “I got loss while wondering around in backyard and didn’t realize I’m in the forest.” Is a common excuse d used.

The priests and guardians would subject D16 to painful and humiliating punishments when she step out of the line, D16 followed a strict schedule everyday and the Priests and guardians are very strict and almost psychologically abusive to the cogless Shrine maiden. Even she is out at the courtyard she wear her mask and don’t talk to anyone.

Then their final meeting up before Orion moved D gives her bell bracelet to Orion as a reminder of her, Orion went to Iacon with his family . Few months later it’s the day of the ritual which D was deemed as corrupted by the earthly attachments because her longing to see her lover(very one sided just coming from D) Orion once more and was punished by the a 2rd ritual of gutting her body while she was still conscious. Her body parts were stored in different jars in boxes around the shrine, after 7 days her ghost returned and brutally killed the inhabitants of the temple in same way she was then cursed the mountain the village was located.

D in her ritual outfit

Over the years the village population dropped, younger generations either moved away or dead from strange causes, only the few older people around. The government tried to boost the economy by opening a tunnel which for some reason a horrible accident occurred during it’s construction the workers bodies was somehow either impaled or gutted empty and amputated unlike the usual tunnel collapsing. There was a vacation villa opened once and it was a sight of a mess shooting, the shooter in their confession said “the pale lady , Megatron, made me do it”. (Due to allegedly the pale bot looks like Megatronus Prime, in urban legends she was dub as Megatron).

Megatron aka the pale lady(D16’s ghost)

In Iacon city, Orion was on his last year of his master program, his best friends Bee and Elita 1 were planning a summer trip. Bee who comes from a sheltered religious family who just found freedom from his family during his university years is crazy about everything supernatural suggested to go to that mountain because he heard there was a temple that had live sacrifices which Orion try to brush it off as “Oh it’s just a fairy tale to scare sparklings”

The mountain now is more or less a common suicide forest and the road that leads to the village is the road has the most freak accidents. Bee wants do some ghost hunting and a road trip with the gang for the summer. Orion who has some distance memories from his childhood which his family don’t like to talk about agreed to go.

Before they depart, Orion receives a letter from his childhood village and it was from D-16, his childhood friend. Which he thought Dee is still alive when he got the letter, he just thought because her job as the shine maiden she don’t really have time to reconnect with him.

Notes

The sacrifice of the last 50 cycle before D was Starscream, a daughter from a high guard family. Her family seen one of their 4 daughters was a candidate as a great honor.Even as a somewhat willing sacrifice her ghost still haunts the shrine with the strong desire to see the night sky again.

D-16 was the only daughter and family of Terminus, a miner, Who committed suicide in the forest after d was taken from him. D’s spider lily head dress was given by him.

Bonus:

Ghost Starscream the grinning maiden

[anonymous-dentist]

Okay I did some vod searching and here’s Cellbit’s pov of the prison announcement (in the form of a pretty badly clipped video lol)

A couple of things to note:

The silence

The stammer

The knife

The eyes

First, the silence, because it could be easy to miss from another pov because he was already pretty quiet before. But you can see the literal second it registers what Forever had just said because the change in the silence is palpable. He didn’t even raise his voice above the noise when he asked Forever if he was being serious.

Second, the stammer. This is a man who is very good at talking. Look at him during the presidential debates, nothing was able to keep him from talking, not even his own suicide. But then here he… can’t talk. He’s that shocked, and he’s terrified. See:

Third, the knife. Now this knife. Now this knife. It’s his emotional support murder knife. He only brings it out when he feels scared, and it’s gotta be a real deep fear for him to bring it out. It’s only been a few times, namely when he’s been triggered over his past, most notably when he and Richarlyson explored the Federation prison after Pac’s kidnapping.

And then fourth, the eyes. After he takes the knife out, Cellbit’s eyes flick back and forth between Forever the audience in what appears to be genuine confusion. Because, and this is important, Forever never told Cellbit about the prison. So between the fear and the Horrors, there’s some actual legitimate confusion in there because he didn’t know about this.

So now, after all that, let’s take a look at q!Cellbit’s character in general because I know there are people who don’t know about his very tragic backstory.

So Cellbit was in prison for… something. Probably murder tbh, but that was never confirmed. He was in prison with Pac e Mike and he was a really bad person. As in, murdering people, threatening people, ripping human ears off, stabbing, inciting riots (I think???). He killed Felps. He almost got Pac and Mike to kill each other.

And then, after being left to die alone on an island, Cellbit got some goddamn help for the first time in his life.

Before prison, he was in a war (ie the Hunger Games.) Then he was in prison, and the math is hunting towards him being incarcerated prior to his eighteenth birthday. He was 18-ish when he was in prison, and he’s 26 now, and he spent those eight years in therapy. Now he’s a better person, and he’s a very scared person.

He has many triggers, but the one that’s come up the most has been prison. He killed Abueloier that first time because they were in a prison-like cell. After hearing that Pac e Mike were arrested, he almost became another person as he interrogated Foolish (just watch that vod back, the whiplash is there.) When exploring the Federation’s prison, he was visibly on edge, clutching his emotional support murder knife and tensing when he saw all of the cells and almost stabbing Cucurucho when it appeared. Foolish asked if he could arrest him, Cellbit immediately turned him down, and he went behind his husband’s back to convince Foolish not to arrest him, either. (I’m not sure if he knows in-character about the prison cell in the new murder mystery game, but he will Not be happy if he gets put in there.)

So. Prison.

He wants to be a better person, is the thing. Cellbit doesn’t like thinking about who he was as Cell- he canonically even avoids cellphones when he can (see: Abueloier.) But he can’t help what happens when he’s triggered: he killed Abueloier, he almost attacked Cucurucho and risked his whole new infiltration plan. He’s worried about hurting someone again, because he knows he’s capable of it. He might not be the best at pvp, but that doesn’t matter when half the server is just as bad as he is (/affectionate.)

He doesn’t want to hurt his family, and there being a big huge physical trigger all of a sudden in the form of this prison he wasn’t ever told about has clearly made him realize that, oh shit, this could be bad. Bad for himself, and thus bad for others.

[maladaptiveobsession]

*pokes you politely*

How would bailey deal with the pcs suicide death? Loved the headcanons for the LI's (I almost cried) but what about or detested dearest?

“Too little, too late” pt.2

➥ pt. 1

➥ Synopsis: Bailey’s reaction to the player’s suicide.

➥ Contains: gn!reader, male!bailey, yandere!bailey, suicide by hanging, descriptive death

➥ Words: 905

➥ A/N: Again, do not take the content warnings above lightly. Bailey’s sentiments and the player’s death is described in detail. His feelings are quite complicated and couldn’t possibly be explained in short excerpt format, so this entire post is dedicated to him. Unfortunately, it seems that every character I write for ends up obsessive and infatuated. Still, I hope this is to your liking.

Assuming you’re a dependent, nothing more or less, he’s not all that distraught. More so annoyed. You wouldn’t be the first of his orphans to off themselves, and you certainly wouldn’t be the last, but fuck if the paperwork wasn’t infuriating. Being honest, he had grown partial to you. Of all the little shits, you were his favorite. Really, he thought you were tougher than this. What a shame. He’ll remember you, though with less clarity over the years. He very occasionally entertains thoughts of who you’d have grown into given the chance. Additionally, he might sell your body if the demand is high enough.

Now, having developed a deeper bond than that of caretaker and charge, he’s certainly not taking your death well. For so long now, he’s handled difficulties with violence and retaliation. Had you simply been murdered by an overzealous pervert, he’d have an outlet for his aggression. But no, as your own killer, there's no culprit to make pay. There’s nobody to blame but perhaps himself.

Your entire relationship had been new territory for him. It had been so long since he had felt anything beyond exhaustion and annoyance, even longer since he had developed genuine attraction. There was much struggle navigating the terrain. Despite his fondness of you, you still owed a debt. Regardless of whatever feelings he harbored, he still had a job to do. Attachment was weakness, and fuck if he didn’t have enough enemies sniffing about for any sort of leverage. His outward indifference was protecting not only himself but you and that other little shit you cared for.

Really though, his attitude towards you swung violently. When his feelings first began manifesting, denial crept in. He cracked down on your payments, showing no leniency. You were auctioned off into increasingly worse and worse circumstances. Yet there were times he was neither the ruthless extortionist nor the iniquitous instigator that had recently surfaced; rather, a disturbingly gentle caregiver took his place. This sudden disruption in his behavior confused and alarmed you.

A long while passed before he returned to clarity, reluctantly accepting his growing obsession. He reflected on your relationship, and his stomach swelled with jealousy, heart heavy at the thought of anyone else touching you. To your disturbance, he became increasingly more controlling and possessive, isolating and restricting you.

At some point, the money no longer mattered to him. He stopped advertising you to his patrons long ago. You belonged to him, and nothing would change that.

His sudden, inexplicable infatuation scared you. Though he'll never know for sure, you must have come to the conclusion that your freedom would only be granted through death.

By no means was he a good lover—something he was well aware of. He didn't need to be told just how unhealthy your relationship was. He doesn’t feel much remorse; you were his to do whatever he pleased with. He was selfish at times, but he always acted in your best interest, regardless of how violently you fought against him.

For all his faults, he kept you safe. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep you unharmed and in his grasp, even if that meant hurting you.

The only fault he acknowledges is that he didn’t pay enough attention to you.

Had he seen past your aggression, he'd have known you were a suicidal fool and would have locked you away where only he had access. There, death would only visit you in your dreams.

Familiar numbness engulfs him after you pass. He won’t lower his walls again; he can’t afford the heartache and betrayal. The townsfolk notice his increased bitterness since your passing. The orphans whisper amongst each other about how much more ruthless he’d become since then.

Bailey works himself to the bone, desperate to forget. He never thought he’d miss anyone, least of all you; he never thought he’d need to. You’re supposed to be here, but he got careless.

He grieves silently. Everything reminds him of you. The weight of your death crushes him, leaving no room for even contentment. He'll spend the rest of his life regretting, always wondering if you might have reciprocated given the time.

He won't cry, but the grief in his eyes is indicative of his misery. He misses your voice, your smile, and your laughter. He regrets not taking more pictures. Above all, he misses the calm moments you shared: sitting in his lap, cheek pressed against his chest with his hand cupping your waist, as you tried not to nod off while he diligently read through stacks of paperwork. At night, he dreams of you; sometimes memories of your laughter. Most nights, he's reminded of the way your body hung limply. He remembers the struggle to cut you loose, revealing raw rope-shaped bruises across your neck. He remembers gathering you in his arm—still warm but growing colder—and nearly crashing his car in the rush to get you to the hospital. He doesn’t remember much of what happened after, but he knows there’s a fist shaped-hole in the waiting room, and Harper is noticeably more on edge around him.

Years go by, and your death still plagues him. Your absence has left him hollow and void, more so than ever before.

His carelessness cost him everything. How could he let the comfort and security you brought him cloud his judgment? What a fool he had let himself become.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Poly? In this economy?

Barbie dolls: moonwater x you (regulus, Remus, you)

Words: 1.8k ish

Summary: okay so you and regulus had a fwb and then you get upset with each other and then start dating Remus at the same time and then regulus is like 🥺 I miss you boo bear come back to me

Warnings:Fwb regulus to rival kinda to lover, poly angle to triangle, regulus and you hate each other and then are like "ha nvm", making out in partial public spaces, suicide mentioned you tell regulus to kill himself but with sexual tension behind it kinda, pathetic reg gives loser apology and you forgive him, mentioned that you wear chapstick, Remus calls you darling, that's all

You liked Regulus first. You had started as friends. You were close, you know so much about him. You helped him through panic attacks, homework, and moments of overstimulation. You were so close, when he first suggested friends with benefits you barely blinked. You had shrugged and agreed. It was quite simple, really. You both cared so deeply for each other, as friends of course, why not care for each other sexually as well?

You both met up in secret. Regulus ushered you into his bed late at night. He pulled the dark green curtains together tightly. Regulus pulled out his journal. You were confused for a little before he started writing. So that night you both spent whispering to each other and writing up a contract. To be perfectly fair you weren't really shocked he needed a contract to have a slightly peculiar relationship with you. Within the contract you both agreed it was purely sexual not romantic and if you do happen to catch feelings it is mandatory you tell the other so the relationship can come to a close. It was nice Regulus was very caring as a friend and a sexual partner. He took his time and you returned the favor. You often only met under the blanket of night. When the sun was out it felt different, like it was out in the open for everyone else to see.

Unfortunately for you and Regulus you were both terrible at staying friends. The lines between friendship and a loving relationship started to blur very early. Regulus became more touchy. You started kissing his cheek and lingering with your lips on his skin. It became clear to your friend group something had changed. Barty started joking about it more often. If anyone asked where you two went he responded with 'fucking.' Because your behavior with each other and your friends blunt although not wrong accusations, people thought you two were dating. You were just close friends. You first saw Remus when you were with Regulus in the Library.

Remus had pulled himself into an armchair next to a small side table. A lamp was sat on top of the side table. Remus had a book open in his lap. He had one leg pulled up against his chest. You were picking up Regulus to walk him to dinner. You stood next to Regulus' table, staring at Remus. Regulus stood up and joined you at your side.

He watched Remus turn his book page. You slid your hand up Regulus' arm, over his shoulder, and up to his hair. You twirled a curl around your finger as you admired Remus. Regulus moved his hand over your back. He nudged the hem of your shirt up. Regulus pressed his hand against the skin of your hip. You both kept your eyes on Remus, dragging them over every inch of him. Remus glanced up at you. His eyes shot back to his book. He sat frozen, staring down at his page. Remus looked back up slowly, returning your stares. He looked scared if anything. Startled was maybe more accurate but scared felt right. You hummed. You dropped your hand from Regulus' hair to his hand. You pulled him away from the table walking him out of the Library. You and Regulus debriefed later talking about how ridiculously hot Remus was.

Soon after that Regulus sat you down and spilled everything. He caught feelings. Which was against the contract. Regulus apologized over and over again. You comforted him and told him it was nature and you weren't mad at him. You had assumed if someone caught feelings you'd stay friends, but after Regulus' confession he got sour. He gave the cold shoulder and even if you were able to get him to speak to you, he was rude and mean. So you returned his attitude. Insulting each other was the only way you two spoke to each other.

However, Remus was interested in both of you and you were both interested in him. So you both started dating him separately, aware of the other. It was an odd conversation to have with people. Sirius knew first, Regulus spilling it all during their regular catch up times. Sirius first thought Remus was cheating on Regulus with you. Regulus had to stop him from giving Remus a shiner.

In the end though you three were comfortable and that's all that really mattered. You liked dating Remus. You liked lightly bullying Regulus. Remus liked dating you both even if you both seemed to consider homicide everytime you were near each other. Regulus liked dating Remus. He liked threatening to kill you. You and Regulus did hate each other but you both loved how the other made Remus happy so you had a small silent alliance to not kill each other. That didn't stop you from insulting him though.

You were reading In the library, comfy in your armchair. You knew Remus and Regulus had a date later today, so you were perfectly fine with sitting on your own. You were having a lovely time, enjoying the joy your quiet brought you. Until Regulus showed up. He was decked in Remus' sweater, it swallowed him. If you didn't deeply hate him you'd say it he looked cute.

"See you're wearing my boyfriend's sweater." You muttered without looking up from your book. You truly just wished he would get annoyed with you and leave now.

"Our boyfriend, but that's just semantics." Regulus joined you, sitting in the armchair next to yours. You sighed. He doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon.

"Did you take my suggestion into consideration at all?" You glanced at him out the corner of your eye. Regulus leaned over the small table, proping his head up on his fist. He quirked an eyebrow up.

"What to kill myself?" He asked. You nodded and gave him a bright smile.

"If you can't come up with any ideas, I have some." Regulus rolled his eyes at you. You looked back to your book, maybe he'll leave now? Regulus dropped his hand onto your arm resting on the table.

"I think we should have a genuine serious conversation about our relationship." He was staring at you with a slightly concerning face. You looked at him worried. Regulus stood and pulled his bag further up his shoulder. You rolled your eyes and bookmarked your page. Maybe he wants to kill you less, a small friendship to blossom. You know what they say second times the charm. Close enough. You stood and followed after him. He led you out of the library and outside into the courtyard. Regulus sat down under a tree and looked up at you expectantly. You sighed and sat next to him, leaving a space between you. Regulus stared at you with sad eyes. You sent a glare back.

"I'm really sorry. For everything. I miss you, so much. I miss your friendship. I care for you so deeply, when you leave I feel like flowers with no water. I don't think we should've stopped being friends when I caught feelings. I need your love. I need you." Regulus let out a deep breath when he finished his rant, staring at you so he didn't miss a second of your reaction. You sat there blankly. If he could throw you away so easily the first time what's stopping him from a second time?

"Are you asking me to be your friend again?" Regulus bobbed his head side to side. He groaned at your question and pressed his lips together.

"More so begging you to be my friend again." You sat silently for a moment. You looked off towards the school. Technically speaking, you could run away from him now and never speak to anyone ever again.

"I don't want to be your friend." Regulus' face fell. He sat up straight, fixing his posture and looking around the courtyard. You quickly noticed your phrasing and started speaking again. "I wanted to be more, when you first told me you liked me." Regulus glanced back at you.

"Really?" Regulus whispered. You nodded. He stared at you for a moment. You waited patiently, you felt an even colder shoulder coming your way after this. "I want that too." You looked at him partially shocked before remembering his feelings really started this whole ordeal in the first place. You gave him a soft smile, much to his delight. He made you smile again.

"I'm glad. Although I do believe we'll have to have a conversation with Remus." You added. Regulus nodded and gently intertwined your fingers. You felt your body swarm with a buzzing sensation. You had deeply missed his touch, it was nice to be back. He tilted his head to the side, lightly knocking your forehead with his.

"I would really like to kiss you now." Regulus' words were barely above a breath. You grabbed the front of Remus' his sweater and tugged him forward. You pressed you lips against his. He rested his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. You dropped your hand from his sweater to his knee, pulling it into your lap. Regulus' body was pressed against yours and if he pulled his leg all the way over your lap he'd be straddling you. You nipped at his bottom lip, pulling back for a split second.

"My chapstick will get all over your face." You whispered against him. You knew you'd have to reapply after this.

"Good, I'll taste like you." He pulled you back in, pushing his tongue into your mouth. Kissing him was like nature. It was so easy to fall back into your old habits. If the tree root wasn't pressing into your leg you'd think it was the middle of the night in his bed. It was slightly different this time, it felt more loving. It was in the sunlight, anyone could see, and there was a promise of a relationship behind his lips. You smiled into his kiss, pushing your hand up under his sweater. You heard someone clearing their throat. You both quickly pulled away to look up at the cause. You met your eyes with Remus. You coughed and wiped at your mouth.

"Hey guys." You and Regulus both muttered a hello looking around at anything other than Remus. "This is new" Remus said, gesturing between you two.

"We have decided to put aside our differences." Regulus explained to Remus. Remus chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah I can tell." Remus said. You snorted. Regulus glared at you. You looked away off to the left, avoiding Regulus' eyes. "Alright well up you get, Regulus. We have a date, and darling we will be discussing this later." Remus gently tugged Regulus up by his forearm. Remus pulled Regulus' bag up over his own shoulder, carrying it for Regulus. Remus turned to you and dropped a kiss to your cheek before moving back to Regulus. Regulus linked their elbows together walking off towards their date night. Regulus looked over his shoulder and blew you a kiss. You smiled to yourself, happy to have both of your strange boyfriends.