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pomefioredove · 4 months ago

Note

okay after reading all the goth hc, I gotta ask. how do you think the guys would react (any of them but preferred Floyd and Idia ) to playing them goth music/show them a trad goth outfit/makeup look (suprise them maybe? For example: I hc Leona to just have the least slay music taste to mankind (beastmankind?) so you play him- idk let��s say Lebanon Hanover, and he’s like “wtf is this herbivore?” But then he kinda gets into it. no pressure to write for it btw!

-✨♥️✨

ANON I was literally thinking about making a post like this a few days before this ask... you have my heart. I'm doing a full post

summary: nrc boys and goth type of post: headcanons characters: nrc students additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, half-headcanons half-x reader author's note: I'm assuming that goth as a subculture and a music scene already exists in this world. this post is also mostly about the music scene

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Riddle is essentially a baby bat

he's like, two bad life choices away from going full victorian goth at any given moment

he flat out refuses to listen to anything "vulgar" but secretly adores the dark, poetic side to goth

he's also morbidly obsessed with death, being a sad victorian boy and the child of two doctors. it works

as much as I hate to say it, Ace starts out as the kind of guy to say he wants a "goth gf" on multiple occasions

he proudly announces it to everyone at an unbirthday party once and Riddle almost kills him for being annoying for interrupting

thinks the music is too sad

...but he mellows out eventually (your influence)

both Deuce and Trey are not particularly interested

(Deuce leaned into punk music as a preteen but has since "given it up" because it's too unruly for an aspiring honors student, in his opinion)

Cater inexplicably already knows a lot about goth

won't talk about it unless you bring it up first but if you play him something semi-popular

he'll be like "oh yeah I know that one"

he has a few songs on his playlist he listens to when he's alone

is a goth magnet himself. pulls many hot goths. no one knows how

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jack is also not really into it. not his thing

however I can see him secretly being into emo

make of that what you will

and Ruggie will never pass you the aux again. he calls it "halloween music"

Leona acts thoroughly uninterested for a long time

like, he'll listen to the music you give him, but doesn't really say whether he likes it or not

says he doesn't care about the scene (thinks it's too pretentious)

and pretends to be annoyed when you give him more song recs

but he gets into it. he starts listening on his own

he has a definite preference for gothic rock

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade is already goth (to me at least)

and very eager to talk about his favorite bands

loves giving recommendations

apparently the coral sea has its own goth subgenres and bands, which sound... much different from land ones

Floyd will listen (has listened, thanks to his brother) but he doesn't particularly care

he much prefers the aesthetic, it reminds him of home

...being that he's from the deep sea, where it's dark and cold

the flowy, dark, elegant looks are just enchanting to him. he can't keep his eyes off it

Azul couldn't be bothered

he's willing to learn, but isn't a huge fan of the general... strangeness

(he doesn't really understand why anyone would want to be perceived as strange in the first place)

and the music is so unmelodic to him

"that was just a man moaning and a gate creaking for seven minutes" and then he bans you from his office

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim literally listens to goth already

I don't know how to explain it but I know he does

it's so funny because he never ever dresses goth or acts stereotypically goth but every once in a while he'll be like "who wants to hear my new favorite song? :D" and it's like, alien sex fiend. and no one can say anything about it

Jamil is an appreciator

depending on what you show him, he could really get into the lyricism and general mood

...if only because he finds goth dancing absolutely mesmerizing

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook is goth

he only dresses the part sometimes, but he's always been very passionate about the poetic elements of the music

...really into french coldwave

in terms of fashion he leans romantic goth

it just makes sense to me. he could find beauty in absolutely anything, and the dark and macabre are no exception

will talk your ear off about his favorite bands if you give him the chance

Vil is really more into the style than the music

he's dabbled in a little bit of everything; trad goth, romantic goth, medieval goth. he pulls all of it off

honestly, if anything, the gothic style compliments his features and tastes more than anything

he has such a respect for the subculture and the dedication that goes into the visual elements

Epel doesn't get it. sorry 😔

he will listen to the music you recommend because he cares about you, but he just doesn't like it

he's in the same boat as Azul. "was that a slide whistle?"

absolutely baffled, but he likes you and it's a small price to pay for your happiness

(and he thinks the fashion is too androgynous for his tastes)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Idia also used to think he wanted a goth until he saw the e-girl vs goth discourse, freaked out, then spent two weeks reading about different subcultures

...still wants a goth partner

but now he actually knows what that means

will listen to any music you give him out of respect (fear) and won't say anything about whatever weird taxidermy-related hobby you have

he's surrounded by death all the time anyway who cares

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you could get Silver to listen to the cure's entire discography and he'd come out of it really enjoying just like heaven and nothing else

it's just... not for him

(plus the slower songs put him to sleep)

Malleus somehow hasn't even heard of goth as a genre when you approach him

he is. a little disappointed it's not music about the architecture style

but he still warms up to it, especially as someone who enjoys finding the beauty in the dark and misunderstood

you can fix him. you can goth him.

Sebek joins only after everyone in Diasomnia gets in on it with you (he doesn't like being left out)

he loves it because silver doesn't and malleus does

peepaw Lilia is an old goth

he was around when the music scene started, and he also remembers the literature movement it was named after, and the popular architecture style that was named after, and...

...you get it

still, he's always pleased to learn about new bands and subgenres and styles and the like

could and will talk about it for hours and hours with you

he dresses the part, too

we love him

454 notes · View notes

aperrywilliams · 5 months ago

Text

More Than You Say (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

——————

Author Masterlist

Part 1: More Than You Know

Part 3: More Than You Expect (the end)

——————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Spencer mulls over what you said and your love confession during your last fight. And he knows how deeply he fucked up this time. After admitting he is in love with you, Spencer wants to fix things. Are you willing to let him?

Word Count: 5.6k

TW: ANGST. Strong language. Mention of abduction, drug use, getting shot, death of relatives and loved ones, jail, and unsafe sex. If I forgot anything, let me know.

A/N: This is the aftermath of 'More Than You Know' from Spencer's POV. I'm not going to lie. This one ends worse than the previous one. The good news is that there is a third chance, meaning a third part. Maybe they will have luck in that one.

——————

Spencer doesn't know how long he has stood there, looking at the door you shut when you left. His first thought was to run after you, but he refrained.

What could he have said to you?

Sitting in the chair that you left vacant, he takes a deep breath. The room feels suffocating to him.

Your words keep reverberating in his brain, and Spencer wants to feel utterly surprised, but it would be a lie. Not that he precisely knew what was going on; it was more like he sensed something was off, and he ignored it.

Like a royal asshole.

The hurt in your eyes is something he knows he will never forget. Those kind eyes that were always welcoming and understanding, this time, only reflected betrayal and pain.

Spencer hates his mouth and the way his words can do so much harm.

Rewinding the past months in his brain, Spencer tries to figure out how you both ended like this.

You never told him how you felt, and Spencer is sure about it. He would have done something if you did.

He is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice Emily walking into the room.

"She told you, didn't she? You must have hella pissed her off," Emily muses. And Spencer can't help but return a confused look.

"Wait. You knew?"

Emily let out a frustrated sigh, sitting in front of Spencer.

"Sometimes I wonder why that amount of IQ doesn't pay off," she wonders. Seeing the man still clueless, she continues talking. "Spencer, possibly the only one who didn't know at this point was you."

Great. Everyone knew but him. Spencer wants to dig a hole and disappear right now.

"Why she didn't tell me?"

The question is more to himself than Emily. She answers nonetheless.

"I'm not sure if she ever wanted you to know. If you hadn't pushed her the way you did, she would never have told you, I guess."

Spencer takes in Emily's words and starts questioning everything about you and him in the past months.

"I assumed so many things lately, and now I'm unsure if they are true or part of my imagination," he says, frustrated, raking his hands through his hair.

"You have the answers, Spencer. Even if you think you don't."

Spencer scoffs at that. He doesn't fucking know anything. That's the problem. He needs to fix something but doesn't know what it is.

"I need to talk to her," he decides, standing and walking to the door. Before he could cross the threshold, Emily calls his name.

"Reid, wait."

Spencer turns to see Emily. She has a stern look.

"Don't talk to her unless you know what you want to say."

Spencer's eyes narrow. He can't conceive of not talking to you right now. He wants to run to your place right away.

"What? But Emily, I need to know-"

Spencer argues, but Emily doesn't let him finish.

"You'll figure it out. Just don't rush it. She has been through a lot. At least you owe her that. Think about what she told you first."

Spencer doesn't know what to do—the compulsion to run after you clouds his senses, but Emily has a point. He doesn't know what to say. Yeah, he is sorry for what he said to you and how he treated you, but an 'I'm sorry' won't fix it.

Besides, until that day, Spencer thought you both were only friends, and you were okay with it. He only pegged all your apprehensions and the words of concern like a friend's worry.

It seems he did a great job ignoring what it was in front of his eyes.

You said you loved him. And Spencer has no reason to doubt your words, even if he told you he does.

Spencer leaves the conference room defeated and with a weight over his shoulders he hasn't felt in a long time.

As he passes your desk, he sees it empty, and his stomach clenches. It's like being in a parallel world where you are not next to him, and just imagining it disturbs him.

The rest of the team watches as Spencer wanders around the BAU like a lost puppy, wondering if this will make him really reflect on how he's been leading his life lately. They know the bond between you and Spencer is important to both of you, but they've also seen how it has deteriorated over time.

That night, as he steps into his apartment after work, he only wants to grab the phone and call you. But Emily's words start replaying again.

'You'll figure it out. At least you owe her that.'

Spencer opts to sit on the couch with the lights off and his head back.

He needs to fix this.

When he closes his eyes, his mind wanders to the day he met you.

He was a scared kid, a freshman FBI agent recruited by Jason Gideon. He put a foot in the bullpen that day, and Hotch was the first to greet him. His stern look was different from Gideon's and more intimidating for sure. He led Spencer to the conference room, where you were perched in a corner with a mug of coffee in your hands.

'This is SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It's her first day, too. Agent (Y/L/N), he is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid; he is joining the team as well.'

You glanced at him and rapidly stood from your spot, stretching your hand to him. He should have shaken it, but his germaphobe self kicked off.

'The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.'

After the words left his mouth, he wanted to be buried alive. You retracted your hand with an amused smile.

'I didn't know. But I guess we should skip the kiss part for now,' you said, and Spencer's cheeks burned in embarrassment. Seeing him all flustered, you quickly added. 'But It's good to know new things. I think I'll learn a lot from you, Dr. Reid.'

This time, Spencer's cheeks burned from more than embarrassment.

It might sound cliché to say that for the first time in his life, Spencer felt so comfortable with someone. You quickly became his best friend and unmatched support. People wondered why. To outsider's eyes, you both looked so different. You were more confident than him, with an extraordinary ability to listen and say the right words at the right time. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by either Hotch or Gideon, a thing he could not say about himself.

And, by far, you have been the only person there for him when Spencer has needed it the most.

He remembers having the vial in his hand. He stared at the item for a while, deciding whether to use it. It has been weeks since Hankel kidnapped him, and he stole the Dilaudid from his dead body.

He was feeling trapped and hopeless. Spencer thought he could handle it, but every day, it seemed worse than the previous one.

His feet carried him to your door that night. He knocked but didn't know why. Maybe he hoped to find some strength he didn't have.

You opened the door and glanced at him, confused. He wasn't okay, and he didn't look alright, either.

'Spencer? What are you doing here?' you asked, your voice laced with worry.

'I'm sorry I didn't call before coming.'

He didn't know how he managed to get words out of his mouth. Spencer was to a second to crumble.

'It's okay. What happened? Are you hurt?' Your eyes scanned his body for a sign of what was going on.

'I don't - I can't (Y/N). I can't do this. I need help.'

Spencer broke, sobbing at your door. You rushed to hug him; you didn't even care that you were in the middle of the hallway.

That night, Spencer confessed his sins, and he found nothing but understanding and support in you. He didn't know he deserved either of these things until he met you.

As you both got closer, he learned everything about you. In the same way that he confided his life to you, you did the same to him. And Spencer never hesitated when you needed him.

You called him sobbing that night. Your dad was suddenly admitted into the hospital due to an illness he hadn't told anyone before. You were his only close family member. Your mom left the country when your parents divorced a decade ago, and your two older siblings lived in other towns.

'Hey, I came the faster I could. What happened?' Spencer rushed into the hospital waiting room where you were. You darted your glassy eyes at him, with lips quivering.

'He isn't okay, Spencer. The doctor says he- oh God - he will not make it,' you broke, with a sob raking through you.

Spencer engulfed you in a tight embrace. You cried with your head on his chest. He would have given everything to rip off your pain and carry it himself.

You both stayed in the hospital that night. You at least could see your dad for a moment to say goodbye. At dawn the next day, he passed away.

Spencer remained with you through your grieving process and swore to be by your side and protect you for the rest of his life, no matter what.

And like that, life kept testing your bond with Spencer—failed relationships, elusive psychopaths, work injuries, friends gone, faked deaths, and so on. The BAU changed, but you both remained.

Sometimes, Spencer wondered if destiny was a real thing. Maybe with you, it was—his best friend.

He was truly happy having you in his life, but why sometimes did it feel like something was missing?

Spencer questioned his feelings about you for a long time. Was it something more than a platonic sentiment? Why was his heart filled with joy every time he saw your smile or heard your laugh? And it plugged with gloom when you were sad?

With time, Spencer was convinced he loved you but kept his mouth shut. He told himself he was over-reading the signs. And Spencer blamed his early lack of affection and inexperience in the heart's department. You undoubtedly didn't feel the way he did, and he was creating a whole imaginary world that would crush the moment the bubble popped.

People around weren't helping either. After telling Morgan how he felt about you, he kept telling Spencer that he needed to make a move.

JJ, for her part, let out her insinuations about how he should do something and the high probability of his feelings being reciprocated.

But Spencer wasn't sure, and the risk of losing you for overstepping your bond terrified him, so he said nothing.

And things could have stayed that way, but a light of hope for him opened time after.

Morgan and Hotch had left the BAU, and the team was focused on trying to catch Scratch. At the same time, Spencer was dealing with his mom's illness and her recently diagnosed Alzheimer's. As always, you were there for him.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you to Houston?" you asked him, sitting on his couch one night.

"No. It's okay. It will be only two days," Spencer assured you. He felt terrible for lying to you. He never did that before, but he knew you would talk some sense to him about what he was doing on his trips to Mexico.

"Will you call me if you need anything?" you insisted, and Spencer could only think how much he wanted to hug and kiss you. But he won't do that. He can't do that without telling you he loves you. Not without risking losing you due to a stupid love confession.

Spencer was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice his lack of response to your question.

"Spencer? Are you okay?"

With still a semi-hazed brain, his hands reached yours, and his eyes locked with yours. A frown of worry appeared on your face.

"Have I ever told you how grateful I am for having you in my life?"

A blush crept from your neck to your cheeks. It wasn't the first time Spencer had told you something like that, but how he looked at you that night, with that intensity, was making you weak on the knees.

"Yeah. A couple of times, if I recall correctly," you replied, trying to sound casual, but inside, you were aflame with his gaze.

"I think I should say it more. And to show it like it really is," Spencer mumbled, and you were confused. What was he trying to say?

"You mean like buying me more coffees and bagels?" you joked. You always did that when you were nervous, and Spencer knew it.

In a bold move and without letting your hands go, he scooted closer to you on the couch.

It was now or never. Spencer knew then this was his chance, and if he didn't take it, he would never do it again.

"Can - can I tell you something?" he asked, flicking his gaze between your eyes and your lips back and forth.

You noticed the gesture and were about to combust. Why was Spencer looking at your lips like that?

"Yes." Your voice above a whisper, fearing it could falter if you spoke louder.

"I want to kiss you so bad right now," he whispered back, so close you could feel his breath fanning your face. Your lips parted to say something, but no words came from them. Instead, you were the one who closed the gap between you both and kissed him.

Spencer kissed you back immediately with such urgency that you could feel the longing and desperation on his lips.

Deepening the kiss, neither you nor he wanted to stop. Fearing if you did, the moment would vanish, and you would wake up from this beautiful dream.

Maybe this was the chance you both needed to confess your feelings for each other. But fate could be cruel more than once.

In the middle of that years-making kiss, your phone rang suddenly. The infamous sound made you both jump back and return to reality.

Still dazed, you fished the device from your pocket. Emily was calling. You didn't know what to do. Should you answer your phone and cut the moment? Or ignore it and grasp Spencer's lapels to kiss him again?

Your bewildered look made Spencer decide for you.

"You should take that. Could be important," he said, voice laced with doom. He knew what was coming. You wanted to argue, but maybe he was right. Reluctantly, you slid your finger on the green bottom.

"Emily?"

The team had a new case, and it was urgent. You needed to be on the tarmac in twenty minutes.

"Can we - can we talk about this later?"

You were unsure where you were standing. Sure, you felt the electricity of that kiss; you didn't imagine it. But maybe it wasn't like you were thinking. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment. A lot of things were happening, and you both were vulnerable.

On his part, Spencer saw this as a sign. This wasn't the time or the place. He didn't feel prepared to face his true feelings at the moment.

"Sure. Uh, but now you should go; they are waiting."

The bad thing is you never talked about that again. You went with the team to Connecticut while Spencer left the following day, not to Houston like he said to you. He went to Mexico.

The next time you saw each other was with Spencer in a cell in Matamoros.

There are a lot of things Spencer regrets about that infamous trip. One of them is to lose his chance to know if he could have built something more with you. How could Spencer imagine having a relationship with you now? After he lied to you? After falling in disgrace like this? You deserved more than a broken man, incarcerated and lost. Spencer didn't want to drag you with him and his misery. He couldn't stand the idea of breaking your heart for a failed relationship, but he didn't want to lose you either. The reasonable middle ground for Spencer was keeping you like his friend, as it has been until now.

After Spencer was released from prison, neither you nor him spoke of that night. He presumed you regretted kissing him, and he was afraid to say what it meant to him.

Everything got lost after his release. Spencer became reckless and superficial. He was a different guy. But everyone dispensed him due to the traumatic events he endured. You did it, too. You had stayed and committed yourself to him in the role you knew so well: as his best friend.

And that's what Spencer saw since then: you by his side, supporting him like the good friend you were. And he thought it was okay. You were alright, and he should have to live with the idea of not knowing what it could be to love you openly.

That's how Spencer immersed himself in a shallow and meaningless life, failing his true self and becoming a person he despised but who shielded him in his vulnerability.

The cell phone ringtone brings Spencer back from his thoughts. He quickly pulls it out of his pants pocket, secretly hoping it's you. It's a long shot, but he wants it so badly to be real. A short-lived wish because the caller ID shows it's Gabrielle, his late conquest.

Spencer lets out a heavy sigh, and your words come back to him.

'No! It's everything! Can't you see it? It's the way you lie to your teammates and the way you do your job like it doesn't matter to you. The way you turn everything into something meaningless. The relationships you have, your job, your friends. Everything!'

Spencer feels his body stiffen. It's like he's looking at himself from the outside, and what he sees terrifies him.

That's what you've seen in him, and he understands why you've walked away from him like that. The person he has become is to blame for your pain, and Spencer feels sick. He, who swore years ago to protect you from all harm, is the one who caused this.

'Do you really believe that? Do you really believe your self-destructive behavior only affects you? I didn't think you were so selfish, Spencer.'

Selfish. It's what he's been all along. And you had to be the one to throw it in his face to realize his mistakes.

Spencer doesn't have the energy or courage to answer the phone. He knows why Gabrielle is calling, and what 24 hours ago would have been a tempting offer now feels futile and pointless.

It's meaningless because the only truly significant relationship he has wanted all along is with you, nobody else.

And possibly you are in your apartment thinking Spencer is an asshole, believing he doesn't value you, that he doesn't care about you, that he doesn't love you. And while the asshole part it's true, he does care about you, and he does love you.

It may be too overdue, but it's time for you to know, he thinks.

With a resolution Spencer didn't know he had, he stands from his couch to grab his coat and keys. He is going to reveal his secret tonight. He is going to admit his underlying love to you and stop his charade.

During the car ride, he is having a pep talk with himself, trying not to lose the bravery that made him leave the apartment.

You have to know. He has to clear things up and get you back.

Spencer keeps repeating the words until he's at your door, calling with two solid knocks.

After some rustling from inside, the door opens, revealing your unhappy face. Spencer knows he deserves all the bitterness and pettiness you have and will throw at him, and he's going to take it all.

"You didn't check the clock before coming here, did you?" is the first thing coming from your mouth.

Spencer takes in your appearance. You're in your pajamas already, but the bags under your eyes tell him you weren't sleeping, and possibly you have been tossing and turning for hours now.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late, but we need to talk."

The roll in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by him; it's like you weren't surprised by him standing at your door at 2 am.

"Spencer, if you want to talk about what happened this afternoon, I don't think-"

"Please? I know I behaved like an idiot today, but please let me explain," Spencer insists, and he really hopes you don't close the door in his face.

You contemplate your response for a second. Spencer knows you know he won't leave without talking to you, so you open the door just enough and signal him to come inside.

Spencer comes in and waits for you to close the door. The resolve with which he came is fading as his brain tries to organize his ideas and all the things he wants to say.

You gesture towards the couch, and he takes a seat. You too, but in a chair next to it.

Where to start? Spencer thinks about just blurting out everything and spilling his heart in front of you. But you are the one who starts talking.

"Why are you here?"

Spencer clears his throat. "I - I want to apologize for what I said. I hurt you, and I didn't mean to do that. I really didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," you say flatly, and he nods.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I let you down, and I feel horrible misreading the whole thing. I should have noticed."

Spencer barely blinks, trying to gauge your expression. You're difficult to read right now, and he hates it. You guys always were so good at reading each other, and he lost that ability, too.

"If you are talking about-" You seem ready to say something to not address the subject, so Spencer only blurts his question.

"Is it true? Do you love me?"

You sigh, shaking your head.

"Spencer-" You start, but Spencer doesn't budge. He needs to know and to hear it from you.

"Please, tell me," he pleads, and you let out a bitter chuckle.

"Why? It doesn't matter. It won't change where we stand right now," you convey with some treacherous tears fighting to fall. You avert his gaze.

Spencer stands and kneels in front of you.

"Please, look at me."

His index tilts up your chin so he can see your eyes. You surprisingly let him do that. "I need to know if you feel the same way I do about you," he whispers, his eyes fixated on yours. You furrow your eyebrows.

"What are you talking about?" One of his hands tenderly poses on your cheek to dry some of the tears falling.

"What I'm trying to say is that I love you. I have always loved you."

God, it feels so good to say it finally.

"W - What?" You look perplexed, and Spencer knows this is the opportunity he has to come clean with you.

"I know I didn't tell you sooner. It's long overdue, and even if I have my reasons, they don't excuse how I have treated you in the past months. But I promise things will change. I won't hide this anymore. Please, give me a chance to love you."

You seem overwhelmed with the information, so much so that you stand and start to pace in your living room. Spencer gets up as well and follows you with his eyes.

"Spencer, how- I - I don't understand. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's true. You are the one for me. I love you (Y/N)."

It seems now that he's said it once, Spencer spares no effort in repeating he loves you over and over again.

You stop pacing to look at him, an accusatory look in your eyes.

"Why now?"

Spencer understands your apprehensions. Of course, after everything that had taken place in the last hours, he comes to your door proclaiming his love. Logically, you are confused and don't expect it.

"Do you remember the night we kissed? The night before I went to Mexico?" He asks, and your gaze softens at the mention of that night.

"I do. But I thought you forgot," you say, casting your eyes down.

"How could I?! I wanted to do that for a long time. I couldn't believe we were finally kissing. It was like a dream come true for me," he recognizes, shorting the distance between you both and tentatively cupping your cheeks. You let him.

"But - but after the call, you - you told me-" you stutter, recalling the details of what occurred there.

"I know. I chickened out. After Emily's call, I thought it was a sign and not the right moment, so I backed off. There is no single day I don't regret doing that." Spencer's eyes glasses over, thinking about how foolish and blind he has been all this time.

"Why you didn't tell me?" you murmur, almost in a whisper.

"Because I'm stupid. Because I thought I was protecting you. I was in jail (Y/N); what could I have offered you?"

You huff and shake your head, putting distance between you both. Spencer's arms fall to his sides.

"And after that?"

Spencer knows you're talking about the time after he was released from Milburn. He gives you an apologetic look before answering.

"I thought I was doing the same. That having you as a friend was better than not having you at all," he concedes. Maybe it's the hardest part for him to admit because, when that happened, everything started to crumble between you both.

"So that was the friendship bullshit," you sneer. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. And I'll always be sorry for doing that to you. But I promise you, if you let me, things will change."

You go silent, mulling over his words, and it's like your defenses start to turn down. You look at Spencer with a mix of emotions he can't still crack. Maybe his words are void for you right now. That's why Spencer thinks showing you what he means is better than keep talking.

He slowly approaches you without breaking eye contact. With one of his hands, Spencer tilts up your chin while he leans down. He can hear the air hitching in your throat. His heart beats faster and faster as he gets closer and closer.

You do not move a muscle, nor do you reject his touch.

When his lips make contact with yours, you both let out a sigh you were holding. Your lips begin to move in sync. Spencer is kissing you, you're kissing him back, and there is no phone ringing.

Spencer gives you everything he has, trying to express he is yours and no one else's. You are both lost in a kiss that seems increasingly urgent and desperate.

But suddenly, you push him away. It's as if a jolt of electricity has struck you, shoving you away from him.

"Please, don't. Don't -" you mewl in a broken voice. Still dazed, Spencer looks at you, baffled.

"W - What's wrong?"

"I - I can't," you mumble, running your hands through your hair and shaking your head.

"Why not?" Spencer asks, and when you keep shaking your head and saying nothing, he starts to panic. "(Y/N), please. Talk to me."

"Spencer, I'm sorry. I can't do this," you repeat—this time with a steadier voice. "This isn't going to work."

Isn't it going to work? Spencer doesn't understand why you are saying that when you both just have admitted the truth.

"But I thought you loved me?"

Spencer's voice is small, frightened. It's as if, in five seconds, he went from the top of a mountain to a free fall into the void.

You look at him for a second, and it's like a realization hits you.

"So that's the reason? You are here and saying all these things because I told you I loved you?"

The accusing, defensive tone returns to you. And Spencer doesn't know what to do.

"No! I mean, yes! I thought a lot about what you told me. And I realized my feelings for you have always been there. That's why I'm here," he defends.

You insistently rub your eyes with your palms like someone who desperately wants to wake up from a dream.

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe you."

Spencer's eyes widen. You've closed yourself completely and thrown the key out the window.

"But it's true! I can prove it. I can be a better man for you if you give me a chance. Please." Spencer is begging, tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. He will do anything to get you back at this point.

"Spencer. Listen to me. Things don't work like that, okay? You hurt me, and I'm not talking about my romantic feelings for you. You questioned my loyalty as your friend. Do you know how that made me feel?"

"I'm sorry-" he tries to explain, but you cut him off.

"It's true what I told you earlier. I chose our friendship above acting on my love for you. And it seems I did it in vain."

Spencer shakes his head. "No, no, no. Don't say that. I know I did wrong, but I can make it up to you."

Can he really?

"Spencer, you need to make it up, but to you, not to me." Spencer's head snaps up.

"What - what are you talking about?"

You let out a deep sigh. "We both know you know."

"Prison," he confirms, embarrassed of what that word implies.

"And how your life has been since then."

"I know I fucked up. I hurt you-"

If thousands of apologies are necessary, he's willing to give you all of them.

"You hurt people, Spencer! Not only me! You fooled around; you have been treating women poorly and playing with their feelings. You have lied to your friends and pushed them away. And the worst part is you have been hurting yourself with all this!"

Spencer's eyes squeeze shut. You are right. He knows that. But he is so terrified about you walking away from him that he can't see the big picture.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I know you do. But I can't do this anymore. Supporting your self-destructive actions is not helping anyone."

"I know. And I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking for a chance to show you I'm the guy who would do anything for you. Please?"

"Spencer, that's exactly my point. You must heal because of yourself, not because of me or anyone for that matter."

"I'm not-"

"Listen to yourself. You say you want a chance? But you only ask it after I poured out my heart this afternoon. How can I trust you when you have only shown me this version of you? Don't ask me to believe it."

There are a lot of things Spencer knows he has to do. He has a lot of mistakes to face and make amends for. But he fails to realize that the first amendment he needs to make is to himself.

That's what you have been trying to tell him.

"Are you saying there are no us?"

It's almost a rhetorical question at this point, but Spencer asks it anyway.

You look at him with sorrow in your eyes.

"There is nothing I want more than to be in your life, but in these circumstances, I don't think it's possible. Not when you must clear your head and think about what you want first. For real."

"But I love you; please don't ask me to step away."

It's another plea. The last resource Spencer has in him.

"I'm not asking you for that. What I'm asking you is if you really love me, don't drag me with you in this process you're going through now. I can't - I don't have the strength to stay by your side in this one. I'm sorry, but I need to think of myself this time."

"(Y/N)-"

"And now, I ask you for you to leave, please. It's late," you say, walking to the entrance and opening the front door.

It's late. Those words mean so much more to Spencer now.

It's too late for a love confession when you've already ruined everything that supported it.

It's too late to try to fix the mistakes he has made with you. Even tonight, it was daring to come to your home late at night, being inconsiderate of your space and time.

There is no way he can do something now without hurting you.

Maybe time will give him a hand, and the wounds will soften. Spencer hopes that by making real changes in his life, you will see he really meant everything he has said tonight.

What Spencer doesn't know is that you won't be around to see those changes happen.

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

For those who asked for a part 2 (I'm so sorry for the delay): @gghostwriter @sebastiansstanswhore @evvy96 @pillsbury-doughgirl @singinghamtaro-blog @atlantica-angels @lukesmainpiece @ladyofhellhounds @gubzgirl @shqwqrma @hereforfun-31 @reader1402

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #more than you say #more than you know #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

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writersblockiskillingme · 11 months ago

Note

hi love!!!! your work is so amazing i love how you write

i was wondering if you could do a corionlanus x fem reader where she’s his tribute and is about to be killed in the game but it’s kind of like that scene in you where she says “no don’t kill me im pregnant” and it’s his reaction and everyone watching trying to get them to end the games? i’d love to see what you could do w that feel free to change anything u want!

Songbird's Plan | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!tribute!reader

Summary: The presence of a song bird can change everything for one who appreciates them or "if it weren't for the baby" TBOSAS edition.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, Coriolanus Snow being in love, nickname (songbird), mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: It's finally here. Hope you enjoy.

The moment Coriolanus Snow met you he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect you from harm no matter what.

Of course he knew that that was going to be a difficult challenge because you were his tribute.

You were supposed to be in the games, you were supposed to literally fight for your life. There was always the chance that you would die, but Coriolanus didn't allow himself to think too long of this outcome. He knew that it would simply drive him to compete and utter madness.

So once the rebels bombed the arena, once he was out of the hospital and once he made sure that his tribute was okay, he sneaked into the arena the night before the games.

He spend more than half of the night searching for the places for his little songbird to hide. He did everything he could, he truly did, and he truly did though that he would be prepared for everything.

Yet as he found himself leaning towards the screen in front of him that displayed the scene of you being attacked by Coral he felt himself automatically freeze. He felt helpless.

He felt like he let you down and that ate him inside out.

Coriolanus felt like his heart was going to simply burst out of his chest as he watched, his throat tightening.

He watched Coral getting closer to you. He felt useless.

But there was something that both of you underestimated. There was a certain connection between you two. Both Coriolanus and you were smart, willing to do anything to survive.

Once Coriolanus remembered that, he forced himself to move. He could probably wipe out Coral with those badly made drones, but he needed some distraction because if Coral sees them, it's over. He could hit you.

"Please, don't!" Your voice broke out of the screen, Coriolanus felt himself flinch at the desperation behind it.

He watched your helpless form glazing away from Coral like you were on thin ice.

Coriolanus felt like he would scream put as Coral raised her weapon against you. But that's when you yelled out something that made his heart completely stop.

"No!" Your forceful voice shouted. "Don't kill me, I'm pregnant!"

Coral stopped for a moment. Coriolanus stopped for a moment. In fact, it seemed like the entire world stopped for a moment.

Coriolanus couldn't move, his mouth slightly agape as he watched you breathe heavily as you waited for Coral to move.

"Stop the games!" Tigris shouted in despair.

Coriolanus felt himself turn around quickly as he watched the mob of students standing up, waving his hands in air as they shouted to stop the games.

Coriolanus quickly turned to the screen and watched Coral still trying to gain her composure. He moved quickly, his body quicker than his mind.

If he doesn't do anything now, it would be over for you.

So as he send at least ten drones into the arena, successfully killing Coral, and as he watched your face twist in relief, and as he heard the cheers behind him he realized that maybe the hope wasn't lost after all.

His little songbird was truly a genius.

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

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eu-nicola · 18 days ago

Text

arranged marriage part 2

part 1

sinopsis: after the death of his girlfriend in an accident, Rafe falls into a severe depression. His family offers him a family friend, Arabella, with whom he has always had a bad relationship, to marry him for the good of the family.

warnings: arranged marriage, barely named violence, etc

author's note: this story is very long, english is not my first language, the tags are not correct so don't tell me anything cause I ALREADY KNOW, then I'm going to correct

word count: 5375

mention: @cwufst @constantsadness @urbrunettebombshell @pinkpoetrycrown

The next morning, Arabella woke up in the same large, empty bed she had spent the night in. The chill of the empty sheets beside her reminded her of the reality of the previous night. The silence of the room was overwhelming, interrupted only by the faint sound of the wind filtering through the windows. Daylight streamed in timidly, making the opulent decor of the room look even grander and, somehow, more suffocating.

It wasn't long until the door slowly opened, and Sarah poked her head in with a smile on her face. She was dressed in a light robe, her hair still somewhat messy from the night before, but her eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Good morning, Mrs. Cameron!" she said in a playful tone, stepping fully into the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Arabella expectantly. "So? How did your first night as a married woman go?"

Arabella slowly stood up, stretching a little and letting a long sigh fall from her lips before answering. There was no emotion on her face, just a cool calm that reflected what had happened the night before.

"Well, if you're expecting to hear stories of romance and lit candles... you're going to be disappointed," Arabella said with a small, wry smile. "Rafe didn't even touch me. He made it clear to me that... well, that I disgust him and he wants nothing to do with me."

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting that answer. Although she knew that Rafe hadn't been the most charming man in the weeks leading up to the wedding, she hadn't imagined things would be so tense between them.

"What?" Sarah exclaimed, a mix of surprise and concern in her voice. "Did he tell you that? It can't be! Rafe was upset, yes, but... I thought that with time, things between you two would calm down."

Arabella gave a bitter laugh. "Yes, that's what he said. He made it very clear to me that this is just a farce for him. So, honestly, I'd rather he didn't speak to me while he could. Everything will be fine as long as he doesn't do something stupid that would jeopardize our 'perfect marriage'." She paused, and then, with a spark of dark humor in her eyes, she added, "Because if he does, believe me, Sarah, I could kill him."

Sarah laughed out loud, understanding that her friend was joking, although there was a grain of truth in those words. She knew that Arabella was frustrated, but she also recognized that resilience that characterized her, that way of facing difficult situations with sarcastic humor.

"Well, if you decide to kill him, let me know first. Maybe I can help you hide the body," Sarah joked, but then her expression became more serious as she took Arabella's hand. "But seriously, Belle, Rafe is angry, and I understand. This whole thing has been crazy, especially after what happened. I'm not justifying his behavior, but I think with time... things can get easier."

Arabella pressed her lips together, feeling the weight of Sarah's concern. She knew her friend only wanted to help, but there was something about the way Rafe had rejected her that hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Still, she didn't want Sarah to worry too much.

"I know, I know," she replied, shaking her head slightly. "And as long as I stay out of his way and he stays out of mine, everything will be okay. I just need time to find a way to... bear it."

Sarah gave her hand a squeeze before letting go. "I'll always be here for you, you know that, right? If you need to talk, vent, or even get away for a while, just tell me. We'll get through this together."

Arabella smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you, Sar. Knowing I have you by my side is the only thing that helps me stay sane in this mess."

The two of them were silent for a moment. Despite everything that was happening, knowing that Sarah had her back gave her a small spark of hope.

"Well," Arabella finally said, with a sigh. "It seems I have to get used to living in this house, and in this marriage..."

Sarah nodded, but before she could say anything else, a light laugh escaped from Arabella.

"I just... hope he doesn't do anything that will make me lose my temper, because then there will be no turning back." Sarah looked at her, surprised by the joke. "I'm serious! Of all the things I've endured... I don't know how much more I can take before I do something radical."

They both laughed, relieved by that small respite of humor.

After a few minutes of laughter, Arabella lay back down on the bed and let out a long sigh. Silence settled between the two of them again, until she looked at Sarah, a mix of resignation and nervousness on her face.

"Well, I think it's time for me to get ready for breakfast," she finally said, getting out of bed and stretching her arms out. "And also pray that Rafe decides to show up."

Sarah nodded, a crooked smile on her lips. “Yes, that would be the smart thing to do… although you know what he is like.”

Arabella snorted as she walked to the dressing room to find something to wear. “Of course I do. In fact, that’s exactly what worries me. You never know what to expect from him, especially now.”

As she pulled out a white linen dress, Arabella felt tense. Despite how awkward the wedding had been and how Rafe had left her alone the night before, she knew she had to keep up the facade.

“What if he doesn’t show up?” Sarah asked, helping Arabella adjust the blouse. “What are you going to do?”

Arabella paused, her eyes meeting Sarah’s in the mirror. “If he doesn’t show up, I guess I’ll have to make something up.” The worry on her face was evident, but she tried to hide it with a forced smile. “The last thing I want is for them to start asking questions.”

Sarah put a hand on Arabella’s shoulder and gave her a small, supportive squeeze. "Don't worry, he'll show up for sure, I don't think he wants dad to bother him."

Arabella nodded and finished getting ready. When she was ready, they both walked down the stairs to the dining room.

"I just hope this morning doesn't turn into another disaster," Arabella murmured as they walked down the hall.

Sarah laughed softly. "Disaster? In this house? Impossible," she joked.

As they approached the dining room, Arabella took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever might happen.

When Arabella and Sarah arrived in the dining room, the first thing Arabella noticed was the figure of Rafe already sitting at the table. Her heart skipped a beat immediately, and tension ran through her body like lightning. She hadn't expected to see him there so early, much less ready for breakfast. The mere sight of him sitting there, with that expression of indifference on his face, made her nerves soar.

Rafe looked up as soon as he saw them enter, and for a second, Arabella felt the atmosphere become even more charged. There was no trace of the man who had rejected her so coldly the night before, but that only confused her more. However, to her surprise, Rafe got up from the table.

With a calmness she didn't recognize in him, he walked towards her and, without saying a word, pulled out a chair so Arabella could sit. The polite gesture caught her off guard, but she tried to hide it and settled into the seat he offered her.

“Thank you,” she murmured, barely meeting Rafe’s eyes. He just nodded and returned to his spot, taking a seat next to her. Arabella could sense the tension between the two, but they were both clearly making an effort to keep up appearances, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sarah, who sat across the table from her with a smile that tried to lighten the mood.

As the servants began to bring breakfast, the dining room slowly filled up. Ward and Rose arrived shortly after, and the questions began almost immediately.

“Well, how are you feeling after your first day as husband and wife?” Ward asked with a smile that, to Arabella, seemed to have a sharper edge than usual.

Arabella pursed her lips slightly, but Rafe was the one who answered first, his voice surprisingly calm. “All very well, sir. We are settling in.”

His tone was neutral, and Arabella knew he was making an effort to sound convincing. For her part, she forced a smile and nodded, hoping she wouldn't have to say much more on the subject. The questions kept coming, but she and Rafe navigated the conversation carefully, answering just what was necessary without revealing anything about themselves.

Rose, ever observant, noticed the silence in the interactions between Arabella and Rafe, but didn't comment on it. Ward, on the other hand, seemed to be pleased with how they were handling the situation. Arabella, though uncomfortable, remained composed, feigning interest in the breakfast and the conversation, while her mind was elsewhere.

On more than one occasion, she felt Rafe's gaze on her, and though she knew he was making an effort to act like an attentive husband, she couldn't help but wonder what was really going on in his head.

As breakfast progressed, the questions continued, from trivial matters to questions about the future of the marriage. "And when will we be given the joy of a grandchild?" Rose joked, but the comment made Arabella tense even more. It was too early to even think about such things, and the words caught in her throat. Before she could say anything, Rafe intervened again.

"In time," he replied, in a dry but controlled tone, nipping any further jokes or awkward questions on the subject in the bud.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, breakfast came to an end.

As the others began to disperse, Rafe rose from the table without a word and left the room without a glance at Arabella. She sat there, still, with the bitter taste of the perfect performance they had both just given.

Sarah, who had remained silent for most of breakfast, walked over to Arabella and put a hand on her shoulder, as if trying to comfort her without saying anything.

The day passed slowly for Arabella. After the awkward breakfast, Rafe disappeared without a word, leaving her alone. As the hours passed, her frustration grew. She knew that her marriage was not one based on love, but she at least expected Rafe to make the effort to keep up appearances. After all, they were both caught up in this.

Arabella spent the afternoon between small tasks, trying to distract herself with Sarah, who encouraged her not to think too much about the situation. But Rafe's absence, his indifference, was driving her crazy. Where was he? What was he doing? And most importantly, why was he acting as if this marriage didn't matter to him one bit? They were supposed to, at least publicly, keep up the facade of being a happy couple, or at least committed to the union.

When night came and Rafe still didn't show up, Arabella felt rage take over her. The hours passed, and the silence in her room only made her anger grow. The lights in the house were already off, and there was still no sign of him.

Finally, close to midnight, she heard the bedroom door open. Rafe walked in as if nothing had happened, his expression cold and impassive. Arabella, who had been waiting for him, got out of bed with her fists clenched. She wasn't going to let this go by without saying something. Not tonight.

“Where the hell have you been?” she blurted, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms in front of him.

Rafe, taken aback by her tone, glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t stop. He made his way to the dressing room, ignoring her anger, and began unbuttoning his shirt as if nothing had happened.

“Rafe, I’m talking to you. It’s our first day married and you’re already being a jerk,” Arabella continued, her voice rising with each word.

He let out a heavy sigh, as if her words were wearing him out. “Don’t bother me, Arabella. I’m not in the mood.”

That only fueled his anger further. She stepped closer to him, challenging his indifference. “I didn’t marry you so you could ruin this whole thing from the start. I don’t care if you don’t love me, but you could at least behave like a good husband.”

Rafe quickly turned to her, his face now filled with irritation. “I told you not to bother me,” he growled, gripping her arm tightly. His fingers dug into her skin, but Arabella was undaunted.

“No!” she screamed, wrenching herself from his hold. She glared at him, her heart pounding. “As long as you’re married to me, you’re going to behave. If you want to go off with other women, do it. But in front of people, you’ll be the perfect husband. I’m not going to let you ruin this.”

Rafe fell silent, his eyes fixed on her. He’d never seen Arabella so determined, so full of fire. Despite his anger, there was something about her attitude that unnerved him. This wasn’t the shy girl he’d known for years; this was a woman who wasn’t going to let herself be trampled on. Something inside him stirred, a mix of frustration and unexpected attraction.

Arabella, without waiting for a response, turned on her heel and walked out of the room. The slam of the door echoed down the hall, leaving him alone in the silence of the room.

Rafe stood in the same spot, still bewildered by the fight. He looked down at his hands, still remembering the feel of Arabella's skin under his fingers, and realized how strong the fight had been. He never expected her to stand up to him like that, let alone with such determination.

He slumped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He knew she was right. If they were to survive this marriage, he would have to do more than disappear and drink himself to forget. He would have to do his part, or at least pretend.

Rafe closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of thoughts in his mind, but Arabella's words kept echoing in his head.

A few weeks passed, with Rafe trying hard to stay within the role of "good husband," keeping up appearances at family meals, accompanying Arabella to social events, and exchanging a few kind words when they were in public. But every night, when the rest of the house was asleep, Rafe would disappear. He would leave without warning, and even though he tried to be discreet, Arabella always noticed. The sound of the door closing softly but firmly woke her up every time, and even though she didn't say anything, she felt how this nightly routine was feeding a silent anger inside her.

Arabella wasn't entirely sure where Rafe went or who he met, but she sensed it. This marriage had already put her in a difficult position, and now she added the fact that he would disappear at night, making it clear that he didn't care what she thought or felt. Even though she didn't tell anyone, the situation made her angrier than she wanted to admit.

One Saturday, however, was an important day: Arabella's 19th birthday. The Cameron family had planned a party in her honor. It would be a big party, with friends and acquaintances. There was a theme for the celebration: a white party, where all the guests had to wear white, except Arabella.

From early on, the house was already in full swing. The staff was running around, preparing every detail: lights, flowers, music, drinks. White decorations hung all over the place, while the glass tables sparkled under the afternoon sun. Sarah, who was more excited than Arabella about the party, had spent the whole morning helping her choose her dress.

"You're going to look stunning tonight," Sarah had told her with a mischievous smile as she handed her the bright red dress she had chosen for the occasion. It was a long, form-fitting dress with delicate embroidery that reflected the light with every movement. It contrasted perfectly with the wedding ring Arabella wore on her hand.

Amidst all the whiteness of the party, she would be the only one standing out.

Sarah was also excited that her boyfriend, John B, would be attending the party. Rafe didn't like the idea at all. In fact, the presence of John B and his group of friends, the Pogues, bothered him deeply, but he couldn't do anything about it.

When night came, the Cameron mansion was sparkling clean, illuminated by the warm lights and the vibrant music coming out of the speakers. Guests began to arrive one by one, all dressed impeccably in white. Sarah, wearing a tight white dress like the rest of the guests, was happy to welcome her friends. John B arrived with a big smile, greeting Arabella with an affectionate hug, while his friends stood close by, looking around. Despite their relaxed attitude, it was clear that they knew they weren't entirely welcomed by some of the attendees.

Arabella, in her red dress, walked among the guests, accepting congratulations and smiles.

Rafe, meanwhile, stood across the courtyard, keeping his distance. Though he did his best to maintain a present husbandly facade, Arabella noticed the way his eyes kept wandering in other directions. Right now, though, she wasn’t going to let that get to her. It was her birthday, and she wanted to enjoy it.

As the night progressed, the guests began to dance, and the mood became more relaxed. John B and the Pogues joined the dance floor, dancing carefreely, while Sarah laughed at the scene and pulled Arabella along to join them. For a moment, Arabella let herself go, laughing alongside Sarah as they twirled under the lights.

The night had progressed. The music was still thumping throughout the house, the laughter and the hustle and bustle of the party continued at its pace, but Arabella was already feeling exhausted. Sitting on one side of the patio, with a glass of wine in her hand, she watched as the guests continued to dance and laugh. Everything seemed to happen around her as if she were in a dream, but she couldn’t help but feel out of place. Rafe had disappeared, as usual, and although that bothered her, she felt more irritated by the fake smile he had maintained for hours.

Suddenly, JJ, one of Sarah’s friends, approached with his usual carefree smile. He seemed to have noticed her boredom from across the patio.

“Everything okay, birthday girl?” he asked with a mischievous smile as he sat down next to her.

Arabella raised an eyebrow, surprised by his presence.

“It could be better,” she replied, sketching a small smile. “But thanks for asking.”

“You know, you’re way too serious to be hosting a party,” JJ commented, leaning in a little closer. “What’s wrong? Don’t rich people know how to have fun?”

Arabella laughed softly, a laugh she hadn’t felt all night. There was something about the way JJ carried himself, that relaxed, disinterested attitude, that made her feel more comfortable. He told her a couple of jokes, jokes without much depth but that managed to distract her, making her laugh for real. It was a respite from all the chaos.

What Arabella didn’t notice was that, across the courtyard, Rafe was watching her. Although he had been absent for most of the night, when he returned to the party his eyes immediately fell on his wife, and he didn’t like what he saw at all. Arabella was laughing with JJ, a laugh that she hadn’t directed at him at any point in the night. A feeling of anger began to grow inside her.

Without thinking twice, Rafe strode across the room, jaw clenched and fists clenched. JJ’s eyes widened slightly as she saw him approach, but she didn’t move, maintaining her relaxed posture.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rafe blurted out, interrupting the conversation with his harsh voice.

Arabella, surprised by the tone, looked at Rafe with wide eyes.

“We’re just talking, Rafe,” JJ said calmly, holding up her hands in a sign of peace. “Relax.”

But that response only fueled Rafe’s fury further. Without another word, he threw a punch that landed squarely on JJ’s jaw, sending him reeling back. Arabella screamed in surprise as she tried to get between them.

“Rafe, stop it!” she yelled, trying to push him back.

JJ’s friends quickly intervened as well, separating the two before things got out of hand. JJ, his face full of rage, shouted something at Rafe, but didn’t get to finish before Sarah dragged him out of the place, along with John B and the others.

The party, which had been in full swing, paused momentarily as the guests watched the scene uncomfortably. Rafe was breathing heavily, his face still full of fury, while Arabella looked at him with a mix of disbelief and anger.

“You’re an idiot,” she whispered to him, her face hardened before turning and heading to her room.

Arabella didn't want to stay there for a second longer. Anger and shame mixed inside her. She didn't want to see anyone, much less Rafe. She headed for the stairs, wanting to get to her room to lock herself in and be alone.

“Arabella!” Rafe shouted from behind, following her with hurried steps.

She didn't answer. She quickly climbed the stairs, ignoring his shouts. The music had started again, and the murmurs of the guests as well, as if the party was trying to continue despite the recent chaos. But Arabella had only one goal: to get away from Rafe.

When she finally reached her room, she closed the door behind her, breathing hard, trying to calm herself. However, a few seconds later, the door slammed open. Rafe burst in furiously, his eyes still burning with anger.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he blurted, slamming the door behind him hard. “You're my wife! What were you doing with him?”

Arabella stared at him in disbelief, the anger that had been building up all night finally bursting forth.

“What was I doing?” she replied, her voice full of sarcasm. “Nothing! I was talking to someone, Rafe. Talking! Because you, my dear husband, have been missing all night, as usual.”

Rafe took a step towards her, his expression hardening.

“It’s none of your business what I do. You’re my wife, and if I don’t want to be around, it’s my damn right.”

Arabella let out a bitter laugh.

“Right?” she repeated. “And what about my rights, Rafe? You disappear every night! You don’t even bother to give me an excuse. The least I can do is have a conversation with someone. Or are you going to forbid me from that too?”

“You’re not going to get anything,” he growled, moving even closer, until he was face to face with her. “I’m your husband, and that should be enough. I don’t need to explain my actions to you.”

Arabella pushed him away, her rage overcoming any fear.

“That’s bullshit, Rafe! You can disappear every night, satisfy your ‘needs,’ but I can’t even laugh with anyone? It’s unfair, and I hate it!”

Arabella tried to pull away, wanting to get out of the room, but before she could reach the door, Rafe grabbed her arm tightly.

“Don’t you dare leave here,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

Arabella tried to pull away, but Rafe’s strength held her in place. Their breaths were rapid, and they were both wrapped in a storm of emotions.

“What are you going to do, Rafe?” she snapped, looking at him defiantly. “Keep treating me like an object?” Like I’m nothing more than a fucking decoration in your life?”

Rafe’s eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something else, something Arabella couldn’t quite put her finger on until, without warning, he pulled her close and kissed her hard. It was an abrupt kiss, full of tension and fury, almost as if he were trying to silence her. But Arabella, still filled with anger, initially resisted, pushing him away with her hands, though the force of the moment caught up with her. Her tense body finally gave in to the intensity of the kiss as the emotional conflict between them consumed them.

They were both caught in a tangle of conflicting feelings, hatred, attraction, and unspoken desire.

Arabella stood there, standing in the center of the room, her breathing still labored after that kiss that had left her more bewildered than ever. It wasn’t the kiss itself that confused her, but everything behind it: the rage, the desire, and the frustration. Rafe had abruptly pulled away from her, almost as if the physical contact had been more than he could bear, and without saying a single word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Arabella in an internal storm.

Arabella couldn't take this constant back and forth of emotions anymore. She felt like everything was falling apart around her. Rafe's mix of rejection and desire made her feel small, vulnerable, as if every action of hers could cause a new disaster.

"Not this time," she thought determinedly, feeling the rage begin to boil inside her. She wasn't going to let him humiliate her and leave again, not without facing him once more. So, without thinking too much, she ran out of the room.

She quickly descended the stairs, ignoring the murmurs of the party that continued below, the lights flickering, the music blaring, as she desperately searched for Rafe. She found him in the front yard, just in time to see him climb into his Jeep. Fury mixed with desperation pushed her forward.

“Rafe!” she screamed, her voice sharp, making him stop.

He turned, his hand already on the car door handle, his eyes meeting hers. Arabella walked towards him, taking deep breaths to calm herself, but she couldn’t stop her voice from sounding broken inside.

“Don’t go,” she said, almost pleading. “Not tonight. Stay with me, at least today.”

Rafe watched her silently, his eyes analyzing her as she stood motionless by the car. Arabella had never felt so vulnerable. It was like everything she felt was being laid out before him, and that simple act of asking him to stay made her feel weak, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t know how to handle all of this, she didn’t know how to handle him.

“I don’t want things to go on like this,” she admitted, almost with a lump in her throat. “I want… I want everything to be easier, Rafe. I’m tired of fighting with you, of feeling like we’re enemies.” Her voice cracked slightly at the end. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Rafe, still silent, clenched his jaw, clearly struggling with his own thoughts. Arabella was watching him, waiting for some sign, anything to indicate that he was willing to do something different as well. After a few seconds of hesitation, however, he looked away, as if he couldn’t bear the pressure of the conversation.

Arabella understood. He was between a rock and a hard place, and he probably wouldn’t know how to deal with her or his own feelings. She let out a tired sigh, slumping her shoulders as if the weight of the entire day had suddenly fallen on her.

“Forget it,” she finally muttered, giving up, feeling completely defeated. “It doesn’t matter. Do what you want.”

She simply turned around, walking back to the house, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. The pain in her chest was unbearable, as if all her effort to make this marriage work was useless. She didn’t want to cry, not tonight. She just wanted to forget everything, sleep, and have the world disappear for a few hours.

Back in her room, she closed the door behind her, letting the silence envelop her. She began to undress slowly, as if each piece of clothing she removed would ease a little of the weight she carried. First her shoes, which she tossed aside carelessly, then the jewelry she was wearing, leaving only her wedding ring on her finger, a cruel irony. Finally, she unbuttoned the sparkly dress she had worn that night, the same dress that had drawn so many glances, but which now seemed like a prison of fabric. She carefully removed it, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her there in her underwear, the cold of the room enveloping her exposed skin.

As she stared into the mirror, seeing her nearly naked reflection and feeling more vulnerable than ever, she heard the door softly open behind her. She turned quickly, surprised to see Rafe standing there, his face impassive but his eyes fixed on her.

Arabella stood stock still, not knowing what to do or say. She had expected him to leave, to leave her alone like he always did. But this time it was different. He closed the door behind him and began to walk slowly towards her, his eyes scanning her body intently, as if he were really seeing her for the first time.

The air grew heavy in the room, and for a moment, Arabella thought about saying something, but her voice caught in her throat. Rafe reached her without a word, standing just inches away. His closeness enveloped her, and before she could process what was happening, he grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her. This time it wasn't like before. Although there was still an undeniable intensity in the contact, it wasn't driven by anger or frustration. There was something else, something she couldn't understand.

Arabella closed her eyes and kissed him back, letting her body respond automatically. She felt a mix of emotions, between pain, desire and emptiness. She didn't know if she hated Rafe or if, at that moment, she desperately needed him.

Rafe's hands ran over her body with a firmness that made her shudder, and when he lifted her into his arms, she couldn't resist. He carried her to the bed, and without saying a single word, he laid her down gently, his lips never leaving her kiss.

That was their first night together, a night filled with mixed feelings. There was no love in their gestures, but no hate either. Just a physical connection that they both needed at that moment. Arabella gave herself to him, but at the same time, deep inside, she felt a deep sadness that she couldn't fully explain. It was as if, even though their bodies were together, their souls were in completely different worlds.

When it was all over, Rafe just stood there beside her, breathing heavily in the darkness. Arabella, on the other hand, turned away, staring at the window, letting the tears she had held back all night finally fall.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #drew starkey #obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe fic

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aphrogeneias · 1 year ago

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don't go (sharing your devotion) — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did. or, eddie realizes he can't keep being the sole object of his best friend's attention forever and ends up screwing things up.

maybe it was about time.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: friends to lovers, jealousy (on eddie's side, he's not proud of it), light angst, unresolved sexual tension, a little bit of smut (+18), a hint of sub!eddie

author's note: was inspired to upload this to tumblr by @cursedyuta's stellar subby eddie content, and it made me remember i had this hidden. this was supposed to be two-part but i couldn't find the motivation to write any more, i'm sorry about the open ending! maybe it will gain a follow up one day, never say never <3

Eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did.

It stemmed from regret, pure and simple. Regret of not asking you out all the times you were alone with him, of not confessing his feelings, of not making you his when he had the chance. You weren't his, no matter how much he acted like you were.

As far as everyone was concerned, you were Eddie's girl. Being the only girl in The Hellfire Club — until Erica Sinclair's unexpected arrival, that was — and the only girl he was always seen with, it was easy to make that assumption, and neither of you really cared to clear those rumors. Something in his chest swelled with pride anytime someone called you his girlfriend and all you did was roll your eyes, but never tell them they were wrong.

Sometimes he wondered if you knew. You had to know, he wasn't exactly hiding.

His reputation did most of the work to keep guys away from you, but there were a few, brave ones who weren't really intimidated by Eddie "The Freak" Munson — alleged satanist, cult leader and whatever other false atrocity this town was willing to put on his shoulders. Those brave ones, the ones who asked you on dates and dared keep you from spending time with him, suffered with Eddie's relentless, petty teasing and practiced death stares.

Steve Harrington didn't seem easily intimidated by him in the slightest, though.

Eddie had all but scoffed when you told him you'd been going out with the former King of Hawkins High. It wasn’t until he saw the two of you together that reality started to sink in.

He didn't mean for things to get ugly, but the moment realized you were slipping through his fingers was an awakening he didn't think he could handle.

"What was all that about?"

Eddie shrugged, running a hand through his shaggy hair, a little humid from sweat. It was hot that night, even hotter inside the small downstairs bathroom you locked yourself with him in. Outside, the small party the drama club kids were throwing went on, voices and music being muffled by the closed door.

"I just wanted to know what Harrington was doing hanging out with low lives like us. Can't I be curious?" His voice was a bit slurred, no doubt from all the cheap beer he downed before and after Corroded Coffin's gig, fuming as he stared at you from across the room, all tangled with Steve, laughing at his jokes.

You leaned on the tiled wall, crossing your arms. He tried not to let his eyes wander lower, to the way your tits were pushed up in that halter top that left little to the imagination, but his was already running wild. "Do you hear yourself, Eddie? When you speak? Or did all that headbanging finally mess with your brain?"

"I think that would be the drugs, sweetheart."

It was a poor attempt to make you laugh, he knew. You knew it too, because your face remained impassive.

"You were curious, then. That's why you threw a fucking scene? Is that why you acted like an idiot and dragged me along with you, in front of all of those people?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." He mumbled, now unable to meet your eyes. Shame was something Eddie rarely felt, comfortable in his own skin most of the time, no matter what other people thought — but when it came to you, all he wanted to do was shield you from those same judgemental gazes, but instead, he put you right in the way of their scrutiny.

All because he couldn't stand the sight of you flirting with someone else.

"Goddamnit, Eddie! Can't you be serious for once in your life? This isn't the first time you do this shit but this time you went too far."

"I didn't like watching Harrington being all over you, okay? I didn't like knowing he's going to take advantage of you just like he does with all those other girls. Is that what you want to hear?"

He knew he was exaggerating, in fact, he knew nothing about Steve Harrington's intentions towards you, or any of the other girls he was seen around with, but none of that mattered to the ugly, jealous monster roaring in his insides.

Sighing, you close your eyes before looking right into his. "No, Eddie. That's not what I want to hear, but an apology would be nice."

The words "I'm Sorry" were stuck inside his throat, along with those three little words he struggled to say to you, as he watched you leave through the door and lose yourself amongst the crowd.

The day after your fight was spent in his trailer, nursing a bad hangover and a broken heart, both of which were his own fault, and the consequences of his reckless behavior. One of them hurt more than the other.

Eddie was sitting on the old brown couch on the trailer's porch as the sun went down on the horizon, smoking the uptenth cigarette of that cursed day when he saw Steve's burgundy BMW enter the trailer park from afar, and stop right in front of the Mayfield's trailer.

That wasn't unusual, since Steve was often checking up on the Mayfield girl, just as he did with Dustin, as far as Eddie knew. What was different this time was you on his passenger seat, looking as pretty as you did the night before. He stood up as he watched you talk, his heart clenching inside his chest when you exchanged a quick kiss before you both left the car, Steve going into the Mayfield's home and you made your way to the opposite side.

His side.

He could see it from afar, the pain in your eyes. There was rage too, lingering, somewhere in there. Your hips swayed with the determined movements of your feet, and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the mini skirt you were wearing — the black one, his favorite. Not that you knew it was, but every time you wore it, his mind raced with thoughts of what was hidden under that tiny piece of fabric, struggling with the soft flesh of your thick thighs.

For a moment, he thought about how might look like to you, standing shirtless on his porch, a long since extinct cigarette hanging from his fingers, wearing those same old black jeans. He wondered if you could see the dark circles under his eyes, or if his hair looked like the bird's nest it certainly felt like. Eddie felt sick, unworthy of your presence, unworthy of you. He kept wishing you would turn away, back to the golden boy who had apparently won your heart, but suddenly there you were, right in front of him.

"Will you let me in, please? We need to talk."

Not trusting his voice, he nodded, stopping out of the porch and towards the door, where you followed him to. Once you were inside, the silence between you was heavy, oppressive, until you were the one who broke it.

“You know, you can’t keep guys away from me forever.” There was a shy, almost teasing, smile behind your words.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He avoided your eyes, tracking back further into the house and in the direction of his room, knowing you would follow him. The angry stomp of your boots behind him was like music to his ears, it made his heart race into his ribcage unlike any heavy beat of bass drums.

At that moment, Eddie couldn't find anything more beautiful than you — standing in the yellow light of his room, eyes set on him, brows and lips set on a hard line, making him want to reach out and run his fingers through them to soothe your expression. You looked like an avenging angel, a goddess come to put him in his place.

There was no one else he'd rather be on his knees for.

“Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about, and the worst part is that you keep acting like nothing is happening, like… like you haven’t been doing this for years. Eddie, I’m…”, it weighed on his heart, the way you sighed deeply, stopping yourself mid-sentence, “I’m tired. I’m tired of dancing around whatever is going on here, so you’ll either spit it out and tell me what you want, or I’m gonna walk out of here and go home with Steve, because at least he’s not the one bullshitting me.”

It wasn’t often that Eddie Munson was left speechless.

Ever the wordsmith, he should have had the perfect excuse on the tip of his tongue, but instead, he has nothing. Eddie watched you with dark eyes, burning under your gaze, his mouth sewn shut. With one last look, a bullet through his already wrecked chest, you turned to leave.

"No, no, no!" Panicking as he felt you slipping through his fingers, Eddie finally reached out, running to stand between you and the door, voice rising in a whine, "Don't go with Harrington. Please, I'll do anything you want, just… stay, please?"

You hesitated a little before coming closer, neatly brushing his chest with yours, your perfume making him almost dizzy, making him close his eyes for a moment, taking you in.

"All I want is for you to tell me what you want." You insisted.

Placing his hands on his hips, the same hands that were itching to touch you, and looking up, chuckling with nervousness, he finally confessed, "I want you. Is that good enough for you, huh? Is that what you want to hear?" He caught himself repeating the same words as yesterday, only this time, he meant then. "In fact, you're all I've ever wanted. I want you so bad it's embarrassing, Y/N. It's fucking ruining me."

Eddie was met with silence, but at the same time he looked down to you, you raised your hands to rest them on his chest, spreading heat through the worn out Sabbath shirt he was wearing and into his skin. "Did it kill you to admit that?"

"No, but you are, baby."

"Consider it payback for all the years you wasted being an asshole and not realizing you could have had me this whole time."

Pushing him slightly, taking advantage of How distracted he was by your unexpected — or should they be expected? — words, you maneuvered the both of you until he felt his knees hit the edge of his bed.

"Can I still have you now?"

With a final push from your delicate hands, Eddie landed softly on the bed, lying on his back, his hair falling like a dark halo around his bed. He saw your expression soften as you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. This time, he didn't restrain from touching you, letting his hands slide over the skin of your soft thighs, squeezing them lightly. He could feel the heat of your pussy from under the thin fabric of your panties, making him swallow back a moan. He wanted to grind against you, release a little of the tension rising in his jeans, but he kept still, waiting for your next move.

It felt like a dream, you on top of him, looking like every bit of a wet dream as well. Your hands grabbed his wrists and positioned them above his head as you lowered your face right above his flustered one.

"You see, the thing is… I don't think you deserve to have me right now, Eddie baby. You need to think about what you've done a little more, don't you think?"

A shiver ran down his spine with your words, making his body writhe under you, a wild fire spreading through him, ready to eat him alive — just like you looked like you were about to do.

"See, I'm gonna have to go and find a way to let Steve down gently, and then we're gonna talk, actually talk, about whatever this is," you motioned with your head at the two of you, "okay? No more running, no more hiding."

"No more running, no more hiding." He nodded frantically, repeating your words. Eager to get on your good side again.

"Good." You placed a sweet kiss to his forehead, a stark contrast to the torture you were putting him through. "Was that so hard?"

You had no idea.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

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tritoch · 4 months ago

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I wish people were willing to have a slightly broader or more expansive understanding of FFXIV's women because I think there's so much there in terms of easily-unearthed subtext that no one really thinks about! And I don't mean this in a "people need to re-evaluate their response to the women of Stormblood" way (though I do think that's largely true), I mean I think fandom's understanding even of the women it mostly likes is pretty weak. And you can say that's because the women are underwritten, and I won't argue that they couldn't use more attention from the writing, but that doesn't prevent you from analyzing them the way you can any character in fiction.

Like everyone's always like, oh, Y'shtola and Krile are like your snarky wine aunts, haha. But...Sharlayan is a pretty ossified and patriarchal society from what we see of it in Endwalker and places like the AST quests. Can we open ourselves to the possibility that it means something that almost every young Sharlayan woman we meet, almost all young women in academia, tends to be a little sharp and quick on the retort? The arch and snarky ways in which those two carry themselves reflect in some sense the facts that Krile is almost literally a nepo baby woman in STEM who is barely older than her students, while Y'shtola learned her behaviors from her much older female mentor, a woman who hated Sharlayan academic culture so much she literally abandoned it to go live in a cave.

Or like, Alisaie! Fan jokes and meta frequently buy into her tendency to characterize the dynamic between her and Alphinaud as a jock/nerd, street savvy extrovert vs book smart introvert thing. Except, tragically, Alphinaud's highest stat is 100% Charisma and he absolutely pulled in his student days. All his greatest achievements are diplomatic, and he very easily develops strong friendships with people in every culture you learn about. Alisaie is the determined, sensitive genius who revolutionizes Eorzea by proving the tempered can be healed. She's just permanently carrying a chip on her shoulder that while she and her brother are remembered as the youngest students in Studium history, actually he got in six months before her, a fact pretty much no one else ever brings up once. She's constantly fuming over the fact that he was marginally better than her in certain specific ways in high school, and looking to differentiate them in ways that actually fail to credit her own obvious strengths and accomplishments. I think that's so fun! It's so juicy, and it's equally good for comedy or serious character studies.

Venat is a genuinely benevolent hero who has no compunction sacrificing lives for the greater good. Minfilia is kind and compassionate and clearly on some level actually buys into the narrative of her own unique moral authority. Ysayle is a revolutionary firebrand with almost no concern for the common man, whose death reflects her Javert-like inability to reconcile her own romantic belief in justice with the tragic ways her blinkered worldview (born largely of trauma) let her be easily co-opted by a violent system. But even people who like these characters rarely move past surface-level reads (people who think Venat is just an all-loving mommy figure make me want to fucking die). The fandom is allergic to drawing connections the game doesn't draw, and fails to recognize that FFXIV is a game where characters voice understandings of themselves and others that are wrong about as often as they're right.

You can already see the ways that women like Wuk Lamat and Cahciua and Sphene are getting flattened or losing their shading in fan reception and it's boring. Like I'm not even saying this because you should take female characters more seriously or something (though you should), I'm literally just bored to tears sometimes and if you guys turn Wuk Lamat into another Hot Dumb Jock Lady, I will combust.

#ffxiv #y'shtola rhul #alisaie leveilleur #krile baldesion #master matoya #endwalker spoilers #dawntrail spoilers #not really dawntrail spoilers but i try to over tag #shadowbringers spoilers #meta: durai report

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theanimeoftheblackbunnymask · 2 years ago

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Heyy! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night! I would like to request a yandere ADA dazai alphabet please. Thank you :)

Yandere Armed Detective Agency Osamu Dazai Alphabet

Author's Note: No problem! After this alphabet is done, I think I'm gonna write Chuuya's next.

Warnings: Mental Abuse, Murder Mentioned, Death Mentioned, Suicide Mentioned, Possessive Behavior, Clinginess, Masochism, Sadism, Self Hatred (Dazai), Manipulation, Minor Gaslighting, Physical Assault, Implied Torture, Torture Mentioned, Sexual Abuse Mentioned and Somewhat Implied, Possible Anime Spoilers If You're Not On Season 4, and Trauma.

Links: {Masterlist} {Alphabet Used}

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Just like in the Port Mafia Alphabet, Dazai is extremely affectionate and he's probably even more affectionate now.

He loves sitting in your lap, kissing you, buying you gifts and flowers, and he loves having all your attention.

There is some evidence in the manga that kinda implies he's a yandere in canon sooo.

He's kinda like a cat, if he wants your attention he'll get it.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

ADA Dazai is less likely to kill people now after Oda's death and the promise he made to him. Plus, he can get rid of his competition in ways that don't make him have to kill.

He can literally cut them out of the picture and they'd still be alive.

If he were to kill though, fragments of his former/true self will surface. It'll be scary.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Firstly, you and Dazai would officially be dating once his yandere tendencies sink in, and he wouldn't kidnap you. He'll slowly become more an more possessive and toxic, and that's when you realize what you got yourself into.

Dazai let's you go out on your own, but that's because he makes sure you're painfully aware that anything you do, he'll know or find out about. Dazai is way too smart to hide things from him for long periods of time.

And you're no secret to anyone. Everyone, even his enemies, know about you. So he is a little worried that Fyodor might do something to you when he isn't there.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Ehhh, depends.

Dazai is, how can I say this, extremely pushy and persistent. He's a womanizer, and the way he is with the woman he ask to do a double suicide with, he'll do the shit to you but worse.

Like, for example, if he wants a hug and you say no, he'll cling to you and whine and whine and whine, like what he does to Kunikida, and you'll eventually give in to him just to shut him up.

Due to his lazy and childish nature, it's easy to forget how dangerous Dazai is and can be. This nature of his makes it so easy to ignore his possessive behavior.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Dazai rarely lets you see how bad he's really doing. He can be crying in the living room at the thought of him losing you, remembering Oda's death, and just his own self hatred, but the moment you come down stairs he's wiping his tears and puts on his flirtatious, childish, lazy and teasing act back on.

It's hard to read Dazai because you never know what he's thinking. It's hard to know how much he's really hurting inside.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Amused. I see Dazai as a masochist with some sadistic tendencies. He'd beg you to hit him more, hit him harder. He'll pin you down to the table and beg you to hit him, to fight back, be his cute little feisty girl/boy.

You'll eventually start crying and he'll feel bad, but only a little bit. Don't forget, the worst part about Dazai is his torture methods, if you go to far you'll see why Dazai was so dangerous in the PM.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

If you were to actually escape, Dazai would've known about your plan way before you actually did it.

The thing is, Dazai as a yandere feels more like a toxic boyfriend than a capture. So I wouldn't call it escaping, I'd call it breaking up with him.

Dazai would let happened, but don't think you're free to go. I'd say the perfect time to escape is right before Dazai gets arrested by Jouno. Because 1, he won't be able to find you directly, and 2, it can buy you some time.

Dazai would've known, he'd see it coming, he just has to wait for this entire thing to get over with. Once the whole prison thing is over, you'll find him lying down on your couch, saying that he was sorry.

Dazai is so pushy and persistent that you'll eventually get back with him, but this time, it's just a little bit worse.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

If you ever push him too much to talk about his life in the PM, or more specifically Oda. It would cause him to snap.

Now Dazai in ADA wouldn't want to hurt you physically, but he never said he wouldn't.

The more the persist with him about it the more hostile he becomes. He'll eventually pin you to the ground with a gun to you head, asking you if you wanted to die. His eyes would be empty like they were in the PM, his old habits are slipping through again.

You'll scream and cry, begging him to not kill you. He wasn't even going to, he didn't take the safety off. He'd lick and kiss your tears before picking you up and dragging you to your room. The next day you'd wake up with your arms and legs covered in bandages, dried tears sticking to your face, and Dazai sitting next to you with an empty smile on his face, but you can see the cried tears on his face. Whatever he did, you don't want to know, and it's obvious he regrets it.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Dazai doesn't really see a future for himself. He wants to end his life in a double suicide with you, that's all he wants.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Dazai doesn't get jealous easily, but when he does it's hard to tell.

There's two kinds of jealously with Dazai, fake jealousy and serious jealousy.

Fake jealousy is when it's extremely obvious. Dazai is whining, clinging to you, begging for kisses and attention, this is mostly common when the two of you are with Chuuya, or anyone Dazai likes/works with. Dazai isn't actually jealous, he's just being annoying.

Now serious jealousy is extremely rare. When he's jealous he's quiet, and he has his arm around your waist or shoulders. He could feel his eyes twitch.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Annoying. He's like a really clingy boyfriend. He's cuddling with you, and if you work at the ADA, he'd beg you to do his paperwork if Kunikida said no and if you say no too he'll whine and whine.

Dazai likes to tease you and whisper the most sexual or teasing things your ear until you walk off, them he'd start laughing and beg you to come back to him. Like I said, it's easy to ignore his red flags.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Like all the other woman he asked to do a double suicide with. But then the longer he spent time with you, the harder in love and obsession he had for you fell. He'd officially ask you out in a beautiful park, it'd be so peaceful.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Dazai's true colors are both dangerous and tragic. Dazai is tragic character, no doubt about it. Rarely anyone has seen them, including you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Dazai doesn't really sexually punish you as often or really in general until his PM counter part. The reason why, eh, it just happened.

Dazai punishes you mentally, physically is rare, mental though is consistent. It breaks you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You surprisingly have a lot of freedom. The right he takes away though is the fact that he'll never let you break up with him or leave him long term.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Dazai is a pretty paitient person.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die, he'd break down. Everything he loved and cared about either left him or died, that's why he was so scared to get attached to anyone. He shouldn't have let himself get attached to you. He'd be pretty empty, he'd try to keep up his facade, but when alone he's crying and just wanting to end his suffering.

Leaving and or breaking up with him I already answered.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He never abducted you in the first place.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I'd say it gotta do with his past. I don't see him ever getting any love and care for the majority of his life. Chuuya pretty much being his first friend, or at least the first friend around his age, Ango's betrayal and losing Oda who he cares a lot about. Dazai is scared of getting attached, or too attached to anyone, because he's scared that he'd lose them because that's what happened in the past.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

If you're crying because of him he'll leave you to it. If someone else made you cry he'd comfort you while your sitting in his lap, crying into his shirt while he rubs you back while saying it'll be ok.

If you isolate yourself he'll whine for you to let him in. If you continue to refuse he'll sigh and give up, he'll probably go bother Kunikida mext.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He doesn't kidnap you, lots of freedom, feels like a normal relationship most of the time.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Good luck finding those. I don't think anyone has out smarted him just yet, correct me if I'm wrong. But if you think you can successfully do it, you're funny.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Dazai worships you. He'll do anything for your attention and praise.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

You got into a consenting relationship at first. I'd say a few years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Possibly, it depends.

#dazai x you #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #yandere dazai #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #yandere osamu dazai #yandere dazai x reader #yandere x reader

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apollo-likes-writing · 1 month ago

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LAPIS LAZULI - 2. Opulence

Character(s): Veritas Ratio/Lapis Lazuli, Jelena/Topaz

Tags: Long fic, mentions of sex (not explicit and not between Ratio and Topaz), arguments, Ratio's backstory.

Word count: 2,787 words

Summary: He missed an important meeting after a night out and Topaz is incredibly pissed at him for it. Lmao.

Author's Note: I know I said I'd post this at the weekend but executive dysfunction decided to beat my ass so y'all are getting it on Thursday instead lol.

Just want to note I am not writing explicit smut in any of this fanfiction. Read my boundaries if you'd like to know why. This was inspired by the incredible @havanillas with her roleswap!AU! Have a look!

This is off topic but, as someone who has family near Florida, I wish anyone affected by Hurricanes Helene and Milton and the Super Typhoon in Taiwan/China safety and peace.

Account Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Prologue

10:39am - Wednesday

The sound of a phone ringing wakes him up, which is strange because he could have sworn he put it on Do Not Disturb the night previously. His arm reaches blindly for his phone on the bedside table. As he does so he smacks his knuckle against the corner of the wood and swears loudly as pain shoots up his arm. He continues his hunt regardless, the tinny jingle of his ringtone starting to bounce around his skull irritatingly. It takes him a while, but he finds his phone and grasps it tightly, bringing it in front of his face and promptly blinding himself as he turns it on. Topaz is calling. Of course she is.

The man grumbles and sits up in his bed, squinting at his colleagues name for a few seconds before begrudgingly tapping the green button to answer it.

“Topaz! My friend! To what do I owe the pleasure?” The man begins with forced positivity, placing his forearm over his eyes and willing his phone to suddenly have a crappy connection.

“Lapis, where in Qlipoth's name are you?” Topaz’ exasperated voice rings out. “You were supposed to be at the meeting over an hour ago.”

“Oh shit, that was today?”

“Yes, Lapis. It was.” He can hear how clearly she wants to throttle him through the phone. The idea makes him suppress a laugh. “Where are you?”

Lapis eyes the other side of his bed. There, the tanned shirtless back of his chosen boy-toy of the night lays there peacefully, facing away from him in a blanket of black curls. “That doesn't matter. Fill me in on the important, definitely-not-going-to-bore-me-to-death stuff.”

Topaz sighs. “Diamond and Jade are throwing a business party on Friday and they want us to attend.”

“Sounds dull,” Lapis replies simply, grinning slightly at the snort his colleague lets escape in response. “Do I have to go?”

“Yes, Lapis Lazuli of Stratagems, you do,” she answers irritably.

“Ooh, my full title. Am I in trouble?” he teases.

“You will be if you don't show up. Meet me at HQ in thirty minutes.”

With that, Topaz hangs up and Lapis throws his phone back onto the bedside table frustratedly. He crosses his arms and rubs the bridge of his nose, feeling the makeup he forgot to take off last night on his fingertips. The sensation of a hand soothing against his thigh meets his senses and Lapis looks down at his current companion, who has now turned around to face him. He's cute, Lapis admits, which is the main reason why he decided to spend the night with him. His dark skin is littered with lovebites and his coily hair fans out below his head, now slightly messy. It was his eyes that struck Lapis when he first saw him though: a beautiful hazel with flecks of teal dotted about in them and large pupils.

Those eyes are currently looking up at him from where he lays next to him, gently massaging his thigh in a surprising show of domesticity.

“Are you alright?” the man asks, slightly guarded.

The Stoneheart nods. “Yes, just work stuff. None of it concerns you.” He sneaks his hand onto his companion's head and plays with his hair absentmindedly.

“I don't think I'm smart enough to understand it anyway, Mr. Corporate,” he teases. “But a party? That sounds fun. Are you going?”

“I'm going to have to,” Lapis replies, sighing. “Don't get me wrong, I like parties as much as the next man, but this one is for work and I have to save face which is boring.” He tilts his head back and pushes his palms into his eyes, groaning loudly as he watches a kaleidoscope of colours burst behind his eyelids. The man beside him chuckles warmly.

“You're Lapis Lazuli. A party is no big deal to you, right? Just go there and rub shoulders with whoever you need to rub shoulders with then drink until you do it willingly.”

He has a point.

“Good idea,” he answers, taking his hands away from his face. He pulls the duvet off and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, shivering at the cold air of the surrounding room now hitting his bare skin. He sits there for a while, head lowered, as he musters the motivation to stand up. He does so after a few moments and then hunts around the room for his clothes so carelessly thrown about the night before. He's half-dressed when he turns to his company. “Unfortunately, I've got to go out and attempt to be a human being to prevent my colleague from murdering me,” he says, receiving a laugh from the other man. “You're welcome to anything in the kitchen. The door will automatically lock when you leave, so don't worry about that. Please don’t steal anything — it causes a great deal of hassle that I wish to not be caught up in.”

“Wow, it’s like I’m in a hotel,” he giggles.

“Yeah, well room service isn’t included. Sorry.”

He’s followed out of the room by a hearty laugh. He heads to his bathroom and goes about his morning routine, brushing his teeth and his hair before rooting through his makeup bag to wipe off the old and do his skin care before renewing it. He nearly pokes his eye out with his eyeliner in the process and groans as he smudges the red under his eyes. He finishes soon afterwards and pointedly ignores the hickeys on his own chest and neck (his colleagues have seen worse anyway). He leaves and nabs a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter on his way out of the building, shoving it in his pocket.

It’s raining when he gets outside, raindrops splashing on cement and dirtying the bottom of his trousers. He sighs irritably and rings up his chauffeur to collect him. He draws upon his Imaginary energy and creates a black umbrella for himself as he waits impatiently in the rain, eyeing the sky every now and again when thunder rumbles nearby.

To his chauffeur’s credit, a slick limousine pulls up only two minutes later. He enters smoothly and wrings out his umbrella before he closes the door behind him. He takes a seat at the back of the car, not bothering to put his seatbelt on.

”Good morning, Sir. Where will you be headed?” his chauffeur asks on the other side of the window that separates driver from passenger.

”Morning, Connors,” Lapis replies, running a hand through damp hair to neaten it. He debates in his mind whether he should piss off Topaz even more or actually do as she asks. He decides on the former. “Take me to that coffee shop on 4th Avenue,” he asks. Connors nods his head and puts his foot on the accelerator, pushing the car forwards.

Lapis watches the buildings of Pier Point fly by as they drive past. Tall skyscrapers touch sturdy bubbles that float above them that act as buildings in their own right. Billboards and screens advertise various IPC products that Lapis knows definitely do more harm than good but are still being sold regardless. Neon signs point to bars and restaurants with the aim of drawing the eye but only succeed in forcing the viewer to look away to prevent themselves from losing their eyesight. It is meticulously blinding and doesn’t do any favours with the slight hangover the Stoneheart is nursing.

Connors turns a corner and travels on a road away from the cacophony of light and sound, slowing to a stop outside an easy-on-the-eyes building. He states, “We’re here, Sir,” and Lapis gives a non-commital grunt of affirmation before reaching for his umbrella and leaving.

”Stay here, Connors. I’ll be five minutes,” he directs before shutting the door and heading inside.

The coffee shop is a homely one. Mismatched chairs are tucked under old wooden tables and there is, oddly, a wide variety of clocks dotted around the walls. Cool browns and soft whites meet Lapis’ eyes as he scans the cozy place. A kind-looking woman stands behind the counter, blending a coffee mixture and pouring it into a cup. Once done, she turns and hands it to the patron on the opposite side of the cash register.

“That will be £5.50. Scan or swipe when you’re ready,” she says, her smile evident in her tone of voice despite the obscene price of her drinks. The customer mutters their thanks and turns away, giving a wide berth to Lapis as if he was poisonous to the touch (with his reputation, he probably was). Lapis pays them no mind and strolls up to the counter with the manner of a man much more care-free than he actually is. Once the barista looks up, her wide smile turns into a grin. “Lapis Lazuli, my loyal friend! Nice to see you again.” The way the woman looks him up and down as if he were something tasty does not go unnoticed by the executive, but he ignores it.

“Morning, Oti,” he responds, matching the smile of the woman opposing him.

“The usual?” Oti asks, already reaching under the counter for a cup.

“The very same,” Lapis replies easily. While his order is being made (a large salted caramel frappé with coffee and cream. Fancy and expensive – just like him), the feeling of dozens of eyes digging into the back of his neck reach his senses. This is not an abnormal occurance. Lapis Lazuli is a top dog around these parts; there will be several people who work under his chain of command in this cafe alone. There's a kind of power trip that occurs whenever he thinks on it. Money talks, as the saying goes.

A plastic cup (not biodegradable? Naughty boy-) filled with a delicious-looking iced frappé, whipped cream placed perfectly on top in a swirl that pokes out the hole in the semi-circular lid, is placed on the counter. A paper straw is poked inside it and is then pushed towards him. Lapis looks at it for a moment and smiles.

“Looks as delicious as ever, Oti,” he comments, picking it up and taking a sip. “Mmm, and tastes it too.”

“I'm glad you like it,” Oti replies, smiling. “That'll be £6.60.” Lapis digs in his pocket and fishes out his phone, tapping the top of it against the pin machine without paying any mind to the price.

“Brilliant. Thankyou, Sir. Come back soon!” the barista calls as the bell to the door rings out when Lapis leaves.

11:25am - Wednesday

IPC headquarters is as busy as it always is. Busy-body staff briskly walk past him with respectful (and scared) nods of acknowledgement as Lapis strolls through the main entrance. Soldiers and guards stand to attention and salute him. which he ignores in favour of heading to the secretary’s desk. There is a line that stands between him and the workers, but they all shift out of the way with terrified looks on their faces at a simple clearing of his throat. Lapis shoots them all a superficial smile and steps forward, reaching the desk and leaning on it comfortably.

“Good morning,” he begins, winking at the woman behind the desk. She looks up and startles at the sight of him, her face turning an ugly shade of red.

“Ah! Lapis Lazuli, Sir! What can I do for you, Sir?”

“Nothing much,” he replies with vague condescension. He takes an obnoxious sip of his coffee before continuing. “A little birdy told me that P45- Topaz is looking for me. Where is she?”

With trembling fingers, the woman taps on the keyboard and looks something up on her computer. “Sh- She's on the 57th floor, Sir. Room Six.” Lapis gives a hum of affirmation and leaves, slinking back through the queue and heading for the elevator.

When he finds Topaz, she looks like she's ready to strangle him.

“Does your watch work?” she asks as soon as he opens the door.

“Mmm, yes. It works perfectly fine, thankyou for asking. Why do you ask?” Lapis answers after another long sip of his coffee, finding great joy in the anger of his colleague.

“Okay, next question.” She strides up to him and plants herself a few inches away from him. She's a foot shorter than Lapis and has to look up at him, the irate look on her face reminding him of an angry bird. He decides not to point that out. “Do you know how to tell the time? Because I could have sworn I told you to meet me fifteen minutes ago.” She has the audacity to take the coffee out of his hand and slam it on the table beside them. He shoots her a small glare before fishing into his pocket and pulling out the banana he retrieved earlier, peeling it with a controlled slowness that would annoy anyone (including him if he wasn't the one doing it) and taking a large bite.

“Topaz, I have a PhD in mathematics. I can assure you that I know how to tell the time,” he says, mouth full.

“Then why, in Qlipoth's name, are you only here now?”

“Because I find great enjoyment in pissing you off. Was that not obvious?” he replies, gesturing between the two of them with banana in hand. Topaz opens and closes her mouth several times, finding the choice words she needs to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“The party is at 8pm on Friday. Black tie, so wear something decent for once. Opal is breathing down my neck to get you, Sugilite, and Obsidian on board and, surprisingly, Obsidian has been the most agreeable. Unlike you and Sugilite, she was actually there at the meeting this morning. I now see why you weren't in attendance.” She gives him a once over, gesturing to the lovebites on his chest and neck.

“Y’know, I do actually have a social life, Topaz,” Lapis states. “You should try it some time.”

“I'm not saying you shouldn't have, uh- hobbies, Lapis. What I'm saying is that your job should come before them, or did you forget that?”

Lapis shrugs. “I'm here now, right?”

“That's not the point. You have duty here as one of the Stonehearts. Not a duty to your favourite casinos and clubs.”

“Let a man live a little, alright? I spent half my life in academic squalor seeking the attention of an Aeon that clearly wanted nothing to do with me. My life's work was made entirely useless. I might as well have received the attention of the Nihility if the Preservation didn't snap me up first.”

“Oh boo hoo, cry me a river,” Topaz snaps. “At least you have people here who give half a rat's ass about you.”

“That's becoming ever more debatable by the day,” Lapis seethes, demeanour now serious.

“Well too bad. You're here now. The only way you're getting out of this place is in a wooden box.”

“I can say the same for you, Topaz. How deep has Jade's manipulation really gone? I can't tell what's you and what's her anymore.”

“You don't know anything about me. You've been a Stoneheart for - what - a year? 10 months?” Topaz jabs a finger into his collarbone. Lapis doesn't move an inch.

“I don't need to know you. Your denial of it is proof enough.” Lapis smiles again, this time less cheery and more angry. The movement of his lips more a grimace than anything else. Topaz steps away from him, glaring daggers into his very soul. If Lapis wasn't, you know, Lapis, he would have wilted on the spot at such a murderous stare. She turns and stalks to the tall window of the room; a dreary view that shows the cityscape of Pier Point through the gloomy rain.

“At the party,” she begins, facing away from him. “At least try to present yourself as a decent human being, alright?”

Lapis gives her a long, hard look, watching her through the reflection of the window. “You and I both know that's not possible for either of us. We've got too much blood on our hands.” He snatches his coffee from the table and heads for the door. His hand rests on the handle before he turns back to face the woman, who is still facing away from him. “Oh, and Topaz?”

She twists around and looks at him this time, watching him with a weary look that makes her look decades older than what she is.

“What?”

“This could've been an email.”

He ducks out of the door before a stapler is launched at him from across the room.

Reblogs appreciated! <3

#ratiorine roleswap au #hsr veritas #veritas ratio #lapis lazuli #hsr topaz #hsr role swap #role swap au #honkai: star rail #honkai sr #honkai star rail fanfic

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sicklyworm · 4 days ago

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Hi yes I would like to hear your thoughts on Shang Qinghua and his characterization (both in canon and in fanfic). I've always really enjoyed the fics with the like,, BAMF!Shang Qinghua tag, but i also can't decide if his cowardice is an act or not, if that makes sense? Or if it's a bit of both.

Oh my gosh thank you for this ask. Please forgive me anon for the absolute rant that's about to happen because of it!!!

I'm going to break down this ask into chunks so properly and thoroughly answer every part of it!

Starting with,

SQH's cannon characterization:

I spent several hours trying to type out a good yet manageable description of his characterization but I found that no matter how hard I try it's a bit too long for a reasonable Tumblr post.

So instead of just ditching this like a normal person I instead started on a essay going over Shang Qinghua's characterization with quotes and analysis!

At the moment of posting it is not currently completed but I'll make sure to reblog this post with the link to the document once it's done!

Now moving on to,

SQH's characterization in fanfiction:

I'm an avid fanfiction reader myself so I see a plethora of different authors writing different arcs for SQH so obviously he's going to act differently in each one.

The thing I think makes or breaks alot of fanfiction with him is whether the author can properly distinguish between their voice and his. As a highly relatable character a lot of us writers can have a pretty hard time distinguishing him as a character from ourselves! When this happens writers can accidentally take bits and pieces of themselves that don't quite match up with him and kind of force them into the characterization of him!

There's also like the cases of hyperfeminization or character bashing but I feel like those are more of a generalized problem then something SQH specific.

Next is,

Is SQH actually a coward or was it just an act?

This question was one I wrestled with quite a bit when I was first starting to dissect his character.

He plays dead and grovels easily when he feels threatened yet displays tremendous courage when it has to do with MBJ. Whether it be saving MBJ from falling to his death or from MBJ'S own uncle, he is necessarily putting himself in danger just for the safety of someone else.

These behaviors by definition conflict with SQH being a coward but It still feels incomplete to just say "he's not a coward case closed." Because he does act incredibly pathetically at times and has betrayed quite a few people!

So after a bit more deliberation I came to the conclusion that "his coward status is determined by his personal connection towards the subject"

If the subject is not close to him or his heart then it is completely subjected to all of SQHs shady and cowardly tendencies. Even if the subject is kinda close to him I believe these cowardly behaviors will definitely cut back some but under enough threat he will ultimately choose his own personal safety.

But in the case he has a deep emotional connection to the subject he seems willing to show tremendous courage and bravery in order to protect said subject.

Example of this playing out in cannon is:

The Sect - low emotional attachment = full rat bastard mode.

Shen Yuan - mid emotional attachment = normal level of courage but will cave under pressure.

Mobei-jun - high motional attachment = huge levels of courage that won't cave under pressure.

✧✧✧

Extra:

My ADHD was going off the rails with this post so I have no idea how coherent it is.

Anyways i am also a big fan of the BAMF!SQH tag and would love if you dropped off some recommendations in my ask box!

#Live Laugh Love Shang Qinghua #shang qinghua #fanfiction #mxtx svsss #mxtx #svsss sqh #sqh #svsss #characterization

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pruneunfair · 9 days ago

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If I were these villainesses lawyers and if I could convince court they are innocent. (The court in this case is the manhwa community so the guilty/innocent factor will be based on if I can convince the community they did nothing wrong)

Yvonne.

I mean this one would be easy. She was body-napped by a Leila follower so all the crimes would be charged on the follower not Yvonne, and shes been trapped in a mirror anyway so the poor girl has been going through enough. She's got a solid case to prove her innocence.

Rashta

Honestly with how much the fandom is growing to love her she's not as screwed as one might think. If anything she could have rights to sue the Rimwells for years of unpaid labor and wrongfully taking away her child. Still, murder and mutilation are crimes worthy of hating her, not to mention those who think stealing someone's man is somehow worse then that. The best I could give Rashta is probably 5 years with a chance of parole

Rhyse

I feel like we would first have a guaranteed innocent verdict but then someone would reveal evidence that she's the author and we'd be done for 😭 because that's essentially what happened to me when I read the newest chapters of NYTRS. Rhyse is probably gonna get sentenced to 30 years with no parole.

Isabella

I'm gonna look her right in the eyes as I say "you are screwed." Because I don't know how I'm going to convince the community that a pure evil villainess who killed her sisters, one of which was a child, that she is a good person deep down. I can't even say she's a good villain cause that sure as hell isn't true. Sorry Isabella but your gonna get life with no parole.

Diane

I think I could get her out.. maybe worst case scenario she gets 1-3 years since someone will probably point out she kidnapped and beat a maid for supposedly trying to seduce the Emperor. But she did kill said Emperor and redeemed herself plus she kinda drank poison and gave herself a death penalty already so I think she's already dealt her punishment.

Marianne

Normally if we were going by actual morality Marianne would get the lethal injection, but since we are going by fandom laws which are all based on "love" for a character Marianne is probably gonna just get 10 years since she's so well beloved as a villain and character and then the public is gonna get pissed that she got it easy for her long list of charges.

Soleia

Soleia is gonna be the reason the Salem witch trials come back in modern day BUT she has actual black magic so she'd probably never even show up to court but if she did best case scenario she can leave on bail since what she did was for revenge and the people she hurt were willing to drop the charges if she agreed to not relapse, the fandom likes her more then Yerenica so she's almost guaranteed an innocent verdict by fandom law.

Freya

I could probably defend her for wanting to be with Izek so badly since she was trying to escape her toxic family but unfortunately 2/3 community despise her existence and would call for life in prison. If I reallly put in the effort Freya would get 10-15 years with a chance of parole.

Sumin

I already know I'm gonna be stressing as her lawyer. She murdered her mother in-law and even before that she did that she was still mean to the FL and thats a cardinal sin in the manhwa world to be mean to the FL. She's got a backstory sure but it's extremely contrived and dumb and even if it wasn't she still had a multitude of other friends and help from others so there's really no excuse. I might love her craziness but I don't think I'm gonna talk her out of life in prison with no parole.

Cosette

Another easy innocent. She is possessed by a demon who used her body to break havoc on the world so Cosette herself is in the clear and ready to go, and if we go by the novel, Cosette is dead.. gonna be real hard to charge a dead girl for Ragibachs crimes.

Mielle

Definitely gonna fail her and at best she's gonna get 35 years for arranging Aria to be executed for basically no good reason, pushing her father down the stairs and in general being a horrible person with a superiority complex, not like she's even gonna see the light again after 35 years cause we all know Aria isn't gonna let that slide.

Dodolea

I'm not even gonna try. I'm just gonna take the money and let herself get the electric chair cause even though I like white lotuses. Dodolea is the rare case where I actually hate a character and my only good thoughts about her is that she's a fantastic villainess.

#the remarried empress #sister i am the queen in this life #not your typical reincarnation story #actually i was the real one #i abdicate my title of empress #marry my husband #my in laws are obsessed with me #the villainess reverses the hourglass #how to get my husband on my side #villains are destined to die #death is the only ending for a villainess #seducing the villains father #into the light once again

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olderthannetfic · 5 months ago

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its kinda hilarious to be honest that saying "because of the rampant bigotry in harry potter, and because of j k rowling's extremely pubic behavior, and the fact that she spends any money she gets from harry potter, which includes library purchases, official merch, etc, on material harm, i can not think of the fans as safe people to interact with" is something thats a controversial opinion.

its not even a "this thing is gross, evil, and should not exist" thing its a "you realize she uses any money she gets from this, which she will continue to make tons of money from this as long as it remains culturally relavent, to actually harm a marginalized minority she has decided to hold a personal vendetta against until the end of time".

if she were dead and the money wasn't going to hurting a group of people who can't actually defend themselves against a whole entire billionaire, i don't think the people squicked out by harry potter fans would care so much.

and the people squicked out haven't actually put out calls to harass them or anything, more just saying things like "i'm going to block you for my own safety, because you're not safe to me"

they aren't pulling anti shit. they're calling the fandom a personal red flag, who they choose to avoid.

pretty telling to be honest, that the reaction to that one account going "yeah no." in regards to not judging harry potter fans got so many people angry at them.

reminds me of why i choose to stay anonymous in fandom spaces.

oh no. someone is uncomfortable your personal comfort media written by a bigot who uses her money to make a very vulnerable minority groups lives hell, and her rhetoric has actually caused deaths! better block the person and write a bunch of stuff talking about how thats anti behavior so i don't have to think about the fact that i help rowling maintain cultural relavence, and therefore help her earn money that she uses to hurt people!

pathetic

We've had this wank many a time.

Personally, I'm not sympathetic to the fact that it's people's comfort media or unique for them. That just ends up annoying me for how other fandoms could be bigger or more vibrant if some of those HP fans migrated.

However, the reason people are pushing back so much on my tumblr is that we talk a lot here about censorship and media and the bigger picture. JKR is a menace, but HP is so astronomically popular that the fanfic arm of its fandom is essentially meaningless to its overall cultural clout.

I think people should go stan some other author because we could make a book fandom happen and authors able to pay the rent if we cared to put our energy towards somebody smaller. I have this same objection to the forever fandom of SPN and all the people whining about but not leaving MCU fandom. To JKR, we're gnats, but our presence would actually make a difference in some smaller space.

But the kind of ask you've just sent only makes people less willing to let go of HP.

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doberbutts · 5 months ago

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I have to ask like. When you harass someone, what is it you're looking to do/accomplish?

Are you just hurting them because you can? That makes you an asshole.

Are you trying to resolve a conflict? If it's making you follow that person around the internet goading them into responding, then *you* are *causing* the conflict at that moment.

Has that person truly hurt you? If there's not authority or staff to report them to (or rules stating that you even *can*) then the best thing for you to do is to block them.

I've been there. Dogblr fucking turned on me over 2 sentences said as a tongue-in-cheek reply to someone in the doberman tags. People who I thought were my friends, people I'd happily interacted with prior, sending me death threats and telling me to kill myself and spreading all sorts of terrible lies and rumors about me for MONTHS. Because, to them, I spoke out of turn. They blatantly admitted to wanting me gone and stated they were happy when they thought they'd chased me off for the week or so that I password protected my blog to make the harassment stop. There were posts by people I'd had extensive conversations with just days prior, stating that they had never actually liked me and were celebrating that I was "gone".

Most of them have not apologized. Most claim that they did nothing wrong, or that I somehow deserved it. I have a few dogblr friends who still reblog from these people even knowing that this happened to me. One of them fucking recently reblogged one of my posts on their newly made blog because I'd long since blocked their other blogs.

Unfortunately sometimes that's how conflicts resolve. Where people are unspeakably cruel to you and nothing ever happens to them. You tell your friends about it and they say "oh yeah I've seen this behavior from them and they suck" and yet don't stop interacting with those people.

I'm not saying it doesn't suck. It does. It hurts.

And I'm sure if any of them were to read this they'd go "lmao it was years ago get over it" as if I'm the one in the wrong for being upset about the betrayal and harassment I received at their hands.

But naming and shaming would accomplish close to nothing. I already know I'm not going to get an apology from these folks and honestly I don't think I'd accept one at this point even if they did (even if they still SHOULD). I *have* had a few apologies trickle in over the years, and have discussed at length why I'm not particularly willing to trust again, and so far that has been accepted. But not from those who were the worst about it, who still to my knowledge act like they're fucking paragons of compassion and empathy.

And certainly continuing to follow them around the internet harassing them into admitting wrong-doing would accomplish pretty much next to nothing.

Sometimes when someone hurts you, the only thing you can do is block their access to you to do it again.

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nahoney22 · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! Hope you’re doing alright and hydrated ❤️ I have a request if possible…I’m a sucker for angst so was thinking how would any of the batch (your choice) would react dying in the way Aunt May died in Spider-Man NWH…like she was right for a second and then it just happened.

It’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable about it, Ty!

No Way Home - Readers Death

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

As the request says, boys reacting to your death like Aunt May’s in NWH

warnings: mentions of death of reader, swearing, blood, denial, major injury but not in detail, suuuuper angsty. ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN 🚂

authors note: very sorry for the delay nonny 💜

Echo

"That was a close call, too close," Echo breathes out, his voice laced with relief as he finds himself amidst the wreckage. You had just rescued him, albeit recklessly, but the danger had finally passed, and it was time to return back to the Marauder. What a mess.

"Tell me about it," you reply, forcing a short laugh despite the heaviness in your chest. As you approach Echo, you grow confused as his widened eyes catch your attention, as if he had witnessed something utterly horrifying. "Are you alright, Echo?"

He hesitates for a brief moment before rushing over to you, swiftly offering support as you suddenly collapse onto your knees. "Take it easy, cyare," he urges, his concern palpable. Confusion washes over you at the intensity of his worry.

"I'm fine, really. Just... need a moment to catch my breath, that's all."

Echo’s hand that was on your back comes forward and both of your hearts thunder at his crimson stained blood. “Is that yours?” You whisper, looking at his hand and tune up at him. But, his face said everything.

“We need to get you back to the Havoc. Now.” He had lost so much already, he couldn’t lose you.

“I’m fine Echo. I just need a second.” But your words were slow, laced with tiredness as your body starts to shut down. “Just a second.”

How many more seconds were you willing to give?

“I’m fine…. Aren’t I?” Your head tilts to the side as you look up at him, his eyes flooding with tears.

“Yes,” he rasps but his voice didn’t carry the strength of truth. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Just a few more seconds.”

And that’s all you could give him. He wanted a forever.

Hunter

Hunter caught a whiff of it before he saw it. At first glance, you appeared relatively unscathed, just a bit battered from the recent attack. As always, you mustered the strength to stand up and push forward. But the scent of blood hung in the air.

However, the moment you took a step forward, you stumbled, only to be caught by Hunter. "Tech, I need an immediate extraction. Track my location. Now," he urgently commanded, his words filled with anguish, leaving you perplexed.

"Why the extraction? I simply tripped, silly," you chuckled softly, your nose nuzzling against his—a familiar gesture between the two of you. But as you attempted to sit up, your body betrayed you, and you remained rooted to the ground. His gentle pressure on your side triggered a wave of panic. "Hunter, am I injured?"

"Yes," he replied softly, "but don't worry. Tech and the others will be here soon, okay? Just hold on."

"Why are you telling me to hold on? I'm fine. I feel fine!" you protested, emotions rushing over you, followed by a fit of coughing that caused you to cry out in a pained sob.

"Take it easy, my love, take it easy. You're going to be alright. I won't let you slip away. Never," he assured, his words filled with desperation.

Sadly, even his words couldn't save you.

He cradled you in his arms for what felt like hours, feeling helpless, lost, and consumed by anger. "Please, wake up," he whispered, gently stroking your cheek, his tears falling onto your skin. "Wake up."

Wrecker

"Are you alright, babe?" Wrecker rushes over to your side, forcefully kicking away the heavy debris that had engulfed both of you during the chaotic mission. It was just the two of you, both bewildered about what went wrong when the onslaught of rubble descended upon you.

Coughing, you nod while dusting off your eyes. "Y-yeah, I'm okay," you groan, joining Wrecker in removing the rubble that trapped your body. He assists you in standing, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you make your way towards the exit. But he abruptly halts as something warm trickles onto his glove.

Slowly, he withdraws his hand from you, desperately hoping it isn't what he fears. Unfortunately, it confirms his dread. "You, uh, you're bleeding quite a bit," he immediately informs you, flustered, as you stop and look at him, noticing the blood staining his glove.

"Oh," you manage to utter, but in that split second, you collapse to the ground. You believed you were fine, or at least you thought so, but witnessing the consequences of the mission on your own body triggers sudden pain.

"Fuck, are you okay?" Wrecker drops to his knees beside you, but it's too late. Just like that, you're gone.

"Baby?" he whispers, gently nudging your shoulder and placing his large hand over your cheek. "Hey, come on now. We have to keep going."

He's in denial. You can't be gone. It's simply inconceivable. The others hear him when he comms them, begging and crying and screaming your name. You left his life just as quickly as you fell into it.

Tech

With adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the attack, you and Tech find yourselves surrounded by rubble and debris. Despite the chaos, you can't help but chuckle at the mess when you meet up beside Tech. "Well, that was quite an eventful ride, huh?"

"Yes, but it shouldn't have happened. I'm uncertain about what went wrong," Tech muses, resting his chin on his hand in deep contemplation. However, you reassure him with a kiss on the cheek, conveying that worrying about it can wait and that it's best for both of you to make a quick exit.

But as you continue walking, a sudden surge of pain radiates from your stomach, causing you to clutch it tightly before collapsing to your knees with a thud. "Tech, I don't feel well," you manage to utter through the discomfort.

His face instantly fills with concern as he swiftly approaches you, crouching down to your level. "Let me quickly check your vital signs and see if we missed any injuries."

Tech retrieves his scanner and begins assessing you, but his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest, as if it's being stomped upon, when he sees the results. Your minds are hazy, too clouded to fully comprehend the situation, as he urgently speaks into his comm, likely calling for assistance.

His hands gently grasp your shoulders, guiding your head to face him, even though you struggle to rely on reading his lips. Yet, there's an undeniable sense of concern in his eyes.

"Tech, what's happening?" you whisper, your voice filled with both pain and confusion. Your eyelids grow heavy as an overwhelming wave of drowsiness begins to wash over you.

"You're injured. Quite severely, I'm afraid," he responds candidly, wrapping his arms around you as you nestle into his side. He does everything within his power to prevent any further damage from occurring.

"It's not that bad," you mutter, your head lolling against his shoulder. "I'm just a little sleepy. I need a moment or two."

"No," he shakes his head adamantly, his voice filled with urgency. "No, you must stay awake, my love. Okay?"

As your eyes close, you release a deep exhale. "Just a few minutes, okay? You can wake me up soon."

Tech's heartache intensifies as he witnesses the person he loves slipping away right in front of him. His lower lip quivers, his mind desperately searching for solutions, for any brilliant ideas that might help, but nothing seems to work. "Stay awake, my love. List all the stars, moons, and planets for me, like I taught you. You have to stay awake," he implores, his voice filled with desperation.

"I can't," you sigh dismissively, leaning into his chest. "I'm so tired."

"Please... please, don't leave me.”

Crosshair

"Why are you looking at me like that? Stop looking at me like that!" you exclaim, feeling uneasy under Crosshair's intense gaze. The mission had concluded, and you were both making your way out when he abruptly halted, fixated on your movements, as if witnessing a lifetime's worth of memories in an instant.

Confusion etches your face as you turn to him, repeating his name, but he remains motionless. It takes a shout from you to finally elicit a response.

"You're bleeding," he states firmly, dropping his rifle and stepping closer to you, causing your brows to furrow. You instinctively touch your head, finding a small trickle of blood.

"Well, of course I'm bleeding. A building just collapsed on us. It's just a scratch-" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone resolute as he positions himself directly in front of you. He raises his wrist and speaks into his comm, urgently requesting an emergency evacuation.

"Crosshair, baby, I'm fine!" you protest, tugging on his wrist, urging him to keep moving. However, he remains steadfast, unmoving. Instead, a sudden wave of excruciating pain seizes you, causing you to cry out and clutch your side.

As you pull your hand back, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of crimson staining your palm. "W-what?"

Before you have a chance to collapse, Crosshair catches you in his arms. "Shh, it's okay. I've got you. The others are on their way."

"Crosshair, w-what happened? What's going on?" you panic, squirming in his grasp, only intensifying the pain.

The Marksman rarely experienced panic, but watching you in this state was unbearable. He felt utterly helpless, unable to do much except apply pressure to the bleeding wound. "Stay calm. It... it will be okay," he says, his voice wavering as he tries to reassure both you and himself.

"When can we go home?" you whisper, breaking the long, painful silence that had settled between you. He can't find the right words to say, so he simply holds you tightly, knowing that you're in shock and asking questions that may not make complete sense.

"Soon," he replies, his voice stiff, his lips lightly brushing against your forehead as he closes his eyes, feeling his heart shatter within him. "We'll go home soon."

Crosshair was never quite the same after you left for home.

masterlist

tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory y @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @s1st3r @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness @crystal076 @blustalker @the-good-shittt

#nahoney22 writes #bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch one shots #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #wrecker x reader #Hunter x reader #the bad batch #tbb

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the-astrophel-system · 2 months ago

Text

Why Alters Are All You, & The Formation Of DID

Tw for talk of abuse (implications to different types), trauma, unsafe caregivers, trauma responses, homophobia, and brief talk of death. We're talking about the formation of DID, childhood trauma, please be cautious if you continue.

Let's discuss what people say is the basics of Dissociative Identity Disorder, its formation. The current leading theory is the Theory of Structural Dissociation (ToSD). Yes, we still need to know more about this disorder, but this is the current leading theory and was written by Ellert R. Nijenhuis, Kathy Steele, and Onno Van Der Hart. They took some research, ideas, and words from other authors and researchers, added their research and ideas, mixed it all together and presented us with the ToSD in their book: The Haunted Self.

Now, there are plenty of problems with the theory, and I know that Hart and other researchers you see in this field haven't been the best people. However, it is currently the leading theory. Colin A Ross spoke about numerous problems with the theory, but he even states that this theory is a significant contribution. While yes, it isn't perfect, and any scientific theory can and should be constantly improved on, its pretty damn good. What I understood from reading Ross' response, the understanding it gives us of DID is good, the issue is when it addresses other disorders, or lack there of. I will state, before going onto my point of the post, that Ross mentions that there is confusion of what counts as an emotional part (EP). In the sense of, how differentiated does an EP need to be, to count as a separate dissociated state?

I don't want to go into that all today, because I'm not a professional and cannot confirm what would count, at least in Ross' eyes.

What I want to talk about, is what the ToSD does give us, and why it explains that all parts/alters are You.

Now, I know I will get a lot of hate for this. So all I'll say is that: I'm willing to discuss this matter further, however I will not tolerate any insults, threats, belittlement, or any other kinds of hate. If you are mature, I'm open to discussion.

The ToSD states that everyone is born with ego states. These states are in charge of meeting specific needs. A child needs love, affection, food, comfort, sleep, etc etc. If a child is able to dissociate to a high level, has a disorganised attachment to their primary caregiver (which is inherently traumatic), and experiences repeated childhood trauma, they can potentially develop DID.

If a child experiences trauma, their brain is going to do its absolute best to protect them. They may fight, flight, or freeze (especially if it is repeated). Maybe all three. That child may subconsciously think that if they were a different gender, or a different age, or maybe if they were stronger or scarier, they could prevent this from happening to them. Maybe they felt like they deserved this pain, that they're an awful monster, or just a toy or an animal to their abusers. Maybe they just refused to accept this was happening to them because if it did, they would be dead.

Their brain will do anything it can to try and prevent and explain this trauma.

They may try to seek help from caregivers, but remember, in the case of DID, that child will have some kind of disorganised attachment. That child will not feel safe enough to tell them about this trauma, or if they do, they aren't supported in the way they need to heal and process. Maybe their caregivers are the source of this trauma, they have already tried to tell them to stop.

Nothing is working, this child is essentially trapped.

So, like I said earlier, this child's subconscious is working on overdrive and trying its absolute best to survive this. Dissociation is a very complex and extraordinary coping mechanism.

So the child pushes away the trauma, dissociating so chronically they disconnect to everything happening, and themselves. This dissociation is keeping those different ego states separated, preventing from them integrating during childhood. Instead, this dissociation basically creates amnesiac barries between each ego state. If that dissociation wasn't there, those states would try to integrate, but because some experienced trauma, they cannot harmoniously coexist. This is the differentiation between ANP's and EP's. ANP's (apparently normal parts) are the parts that are in charge of daily living, they are disconnected from any trauma. EP's (emotional parts) are the parts that remember or are connected to different traumas. EP's dont have to be emotional, it simply is to refer to the parts that are connected to trauma.

Anyway, mini ramble aside. ANP's and EP's are separated from each other, they still are aiming to meet certain needs for the child/person now. That's why it is so helpful or common for systems to catagorise alters into roles. Some parts are simply trauma responses, some exist to make friendships and connections, some have very specific roles/needs they meet, some alters exist to soothe, or protect, or whatever. They are still dissociated parts, aiming to meet needs.

All alters are still dissociated from each other, and some may believe they are the only one there, or the "original" because they are an ANP or host. Again there is not an "original" because the full personality was never whole to begin with. You started with different ego states, and you still are different ego states (obviously alters have grown and developed (but still not fully)).

So with that being understood, lets address the title of this post. All alters are You. Thinking about everything I have addressed for far, all alters are dissociated from each other, so what do you mean there can be a "You"? Again, I'm not talking about an "original", I'm talking about all aspects of the Self that is being dissociated from.

I used to find this fact absolutely ridiculous and hurtful and dismissing. But after starting to learn more about this disorder, working on self validation, and starting on trauma processing, it has made it so much easier to understand.

I, Virgil, am a part of Clem and Skye. Clem and Skye are parts of me. And this is the same for all alters. We are all different ego states that are dissociated from each other, from the Self.

So, what happens if we all fuse? And no, I'm not saying that's the only way to heal, I'm just trying to put this in perspective. If we all fuse, we would be dissociating so much less, we would be fused ego states and we'd create a fully formed and developed personality. We are all parts, and if we fuse, we create a whole.

A whole that we are no longer dissociating from. We will be the whole Self, the whole "You". We will not be dissociating from each other.

I cannot express this enough, fusions happen when you no longer need alters to be separated, they can exist harmoniously, they share emotions and thoughts and feelings and they are not dissociated from each other. There is no memory amnesia, or identity amnesia between them.

Again to clarify, all alters are dissociated ego states that grow and develop, and then if you all fuse, that is when the Self is no longer dissociated from. You'll finally be a complete You.

Another thing I want to address is differing opinions of alters. Let's use another hypothetical. Let's say you have like five different alters that are all queer in some way, but you have five that are cisgender and straight. Two of those cishet alters are homophobic and transphobic. So, if you all fuse, what will you identify as? While I cannot say anything for certain, I can take a big guess and say that no matter what you identify as, you may not be homophobic/transphobic. In this hypothetical, I'm assuming those alters have those beliefs because of things they experienced growing up. Internalised homophobia and all that. As you process trauma and become more accepting of yourself, and you fuse, I would guess those parts are no longer dissociated from that queer identity, whatever that identity may be.

I hope this makes sense. While alters can and do grow outside of trauma, those foundations are shaped because of the experiences of the child. Age, gender, opinions, personality, species, and even sexuality, can all be based and rooted in that trauma and experiences.

Healing from that trauma means reconnecting with the Self, whatever that looks like for you. It may not be the singlet persona many systems use, it may not be the host, it may be something different than what you originally thought. But it will be You and it will be right. It will be the Self that you've finally reconnected with.

Anyway, I think I've rambled enough. TLDR: all alters are You, and if you fuse, you will reconnect with the Self that was originally being dissociated from.

small edit: it is okay if you aren’t ready to accept alters and trauma. but that doesn't change the fact that you're all dissociated parts ✌️

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dia-souls · 4 months ago

Text

📓 Rukiyui fanfic 📓

Pairing: Ruki 📓 and Yui🌸

Author: Admin Afra

TW: ⚠️ Tragedy ending, Death, Blood, Mentally Issues, Pregnancy, Knife threatening, OOC ⚠️

Admin's Note: l really have no idea why this came to my mind. I hate myself for writing such a tragedy story. Well I blame @its-irsaa-fyp . It was her request. I kinda like to write happy ending but when should I try it seriously 😂😂??? Anyway I hope you like it.

Cursed Family Fate

She was a girl who went through everything for his love. She gave up her life, her pride, her feelings and her dignity just because of his love. But did this also apply to him? Was he ready to forget the past and look to the future? Was he ready to put the bad memories behind him and forgive himself?

Yui and Ruki had started a new life with their son. Or rather, the son of Yui and Shin. Adam was a lively and kind boy. He loved his mother and admired his father. He loved his family more than the whole world and was never willing to be separated from them.

Several years had passed since Adam was born. Ruki and Yui are waiting for the birth of their new child. While sitting on the sofa and Adam resting his head on his mother's lap, Yui softly sings a lullaby to his beloved son.

Adam: Mom... do you think I'm going to have a sister or a brother?

Yui: Fufu... I don't know. It is still too early to speculate.

Adam: But I would like to have a little brother to teach him how to be strong and take care of you.

Yui caressed Adam's head and kissed his hair, which was a beautiful reflection of her own hair. Adam smelled of life. He was a divine gift for Yui who made her happy again. Adam was Yui's whole life.

Adam: Mom... I love you so much. I love you more than anything in the world. I promise to take care of you until the end of my life.

Yui: Adam... you are the light of my life. I love you too.

Yui hugged Adam and gently caressed Adam while whispering her lullaby in his ear. She smelled Adam. Adam gave Yui a sense of life. While the mother and son were hugging each other, Ruki entered the living room and saw them. He smiled softly and came to Adam and stroked his head.

Ruki: Adam, you better go to sleep.

Adam: Dad, please... Mom and I are talking to my little brother.

Ruki: Little brother?

Adam: Yeah, I'm sure I'm going to have a little brother.

Yui: Fufu... Adam, it's too early to tell.

Ruki: Anyway, it's too late now, Adam. Hurry up, go to your room and sleep.

Adam puffed his cheeks in protest, but Ruki looked at him seriously. Ruki's serious look made Adam stop protesting and go to his room. After kissing his mother's cheek, he slowly left the living room and went to his room.

After Adam left the living room, Ruki walked over to Yui and sat next to her, caressing her shoulder and gently kissing her forehead.

Ruki: Yui, how are you? Do you have pain?

Yui: Fufu... no Ruki. I am completely fine. Honestly, I feel very good. A new member is going to be added to our family. I can't wait for this little one to bring us joy like Aram.

Ruki smiled softly. He put his hand on Yui's belly and stroked it. He also felt happy. He was very happy that he was going to experience fatherhood again. As much as he felt this feeling was more real than the feeling he had at the time of Adam.

Ruki: I'm happy too, Yui. I have never felt the feeling I have now.

After everything they had been through, hearing this gave Yui hope. She always thought that Ruki hated her. Or he feels ashamed of raising a son who is not his real son. But it was not like that. Ruki loved Adam like his own son. And he was never angry with Yui.

Yui: Ruki... can you make me a promise?

Ruki: What do you mean?

Yui: Ruki, I want you to love both of our children equally. Please... ummm... love them both... that our children are going to be different... it's not their fault at all... it's all... it's all my fault... me...

Before Yui finished speaking, Ruki hugged Yui tightly. He stroked her back and did not allow her to speak anymore.

Ruki: Shhh... Yui, calm down. Nothing was your fault. You did it to save me. The fact that I am alive and breathing today is only because of you

Yui couldn't help herself and tears flowed from her eyes. Ruki's arms were always the warmest and safest place in the world for her. It was the purest feeling in the world and she could never deny her feelings to Ruki.

Yui: Ruki... I... thank you... *Sob*... for accepting me and Adam as your family. You... could have a new family... but...

Ruki stroked Yui's back again to calm her down. He interrupted Yui again and did not let her continue. He wiped the tears from her eyes with his finger and kissed Yui's cheek.

Ruki: You and Adam and our new baby are my only family. I will love you three more than anyone else. I promise you

Yui: Do you promise? To always stay with us.

Ruki bent down and kissed Yui's forehead.

Ruki: I promise. I will stay with you forever and take care of this family.

*TIMESKIP*

The sound of happy laughter could be heard everywhere in the mansion. The sound of laughter of two lively boys who were all running and playing together.

Adam: Asahi, be quick. You are too slow.

Asahi: Adam... wait... I can't run.

Adam stood up and walked over to his younger brother. Asahi gasped and tried to breathe again.

Asahi: Adam, you are very fast and strong. How can you be so fast?

Adam: Hahaha I know. Mom says I am naturally strong. She told me before that my blood is so strong that it allows me to take care of anyone else.

Asahi: I wish I was like you, Onii-chan.

Adam grinned and stroked his brother's head to comfort him.

Adam: I always protect you, little brother. I am strong, so I promise to take care of you.

Asahi: Onii-chan, why are you stronger than me? Because you look like mom?

Adam: What?

Asahai: Uncle Azusa says my face looks like dad and your face looks like mom. Is that why you are stronger? Does that mean our father is not strong?

Adam: Of course he is strong. Our father is the strongest of all. I am sure you will be strong one day, Asahi. You also caught mom's eyes, so you are like her somehow.

The little boy smiled softly at his brother. His sweet words made him feel good. This was one of the rarest days when the two brothers could easily play with each other without the presence of their father. Without being afraid of the father.

Asahi: Oh, let's go back home. If papa comes back and sees us playing, he might get angry.

Hearing Asahi's words, Adam frowned.

Adam: No... He always only gets angry with me, not with you. So you don't have to worry. Let's play again.

The two children continued to play for a while. This was the most beautiful time the brothers spent together. But this was only possible for them when their father was not at home. Their father usually did not allow these two brothers to play together and blamed Adam for every little thing. These recent behaviors of Ruki made Adam believe that his father hates him. As the two children were playing, they heard a faint voice from their mother. From a distance, they saw Yui, who could hardly move due to her illness, waving to them.

Yui: Adam... Asahi.... *cough*... *cough*... come back soon.

Hearing their mother's voice, Adam and Asahi quickly ran towards their mother.

Adam: Mom, why did you leave the house? You should rest.

Yui: I'm fine.... Adam... *cough*... *cough*... Asahi... go home now.

Asahi: Mom, we were just playing.

Yui: Ruki is coming back... you should be studying... *cough*... he might get angry.

Adam: Ahhhhh.. again papa... he's so boring.

Yui: Adam... Be polite.

Adam: Why? He hates me. He only loves Asahi. I don't care if he gets angry. I like to play with my brother.

Yui: Adam... you should.... *cough*... *cough*...

Yui couldn't breathe. While she was barely standing on her feet, she coughed and fell on the ground. She was pressing her chest hard to breathe. Seeing this scene, Adam worriedly ran to his mother and held her hand.

Adam: Mom... Mom... are you okay? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't hurt you again, I promise. Please calm down and breathe. Asahi, please go quickly and get a glass of water for mom.

Asahi hurried into the house to get Yui some water.

Yui: Adam... listen...

Adam: I'm sorry mom. Please calm down, I promise I will go and study.

Adam knew. That his mother's health condition was getting worse every day and he knew that he should not worry her. His mother needed rest to recover. While Adam was trying to calm his mother down, Asahi returned with a glass of water. Yui drank the water and calmed down a bit.

Yui: Asahi, please go home. I want to talk to Adam.

Asahi nodded his head as a sign of emphasis, and without saying another word, he went inside the house, leaving his mother and elder brother alone.

Yui: Adam... please listen to your father.

Adam: Why do you always defend him when you know he hates me?

Yui: Of course, he doesn't hate you, he just...

???: Yui.... Adam????

Yui had not finished talking when Ruki's voice was heard. He seemed to have returned home. Seeing Yui and Adam, Ruki came towards them.

Ruki: Yui, what are you doing here? You must rest now.

Yui: I know Ruki... I just...

Ruki: Adam, is it your fault again? Why are you making so much trouble?

Adam: I... I didn't do anything...

Yui: No Ruki, it's not his fault... *cough*...I wasn't feeling well, Adam was helping me... *cough*...

Ruki walked over to Yui and picked her up.

Ruki: Enough. You go back and rest, and Adam, go back to your room. I will talk to you later. I do not accept any excuses.

Ruki took Yui to his room. Yui could barely breathe. She kept coughing. Ruki went to the room and put Yui on her bed.

Ruki: Yui, don't get out of bed again. This will only cause you trouble. I take care of my son myself.

Yui: Ruki... our sons... we have two sons...

Ruki stood up without another word and went to the door of the room. He turned and gave Yui a serious look.

Ruki: Do not leave the room without my permission.

And he left the room without another word. Yui has been suffering from an incurable disease for almost a year. When she gets nervous, she can hardly breathe. The doctor had advised her that she needed to rest to recover. But the recent events haven't given Yui even a little peace and she keeps getting worse and worse.

Rukie's behavior has changed a lot. He blames Adam for every little thing. And he is not as kind to him as before. Maybe it's because if Adam gets older as a founder, his power will become more uncontrollable, which worries Ruki. But Yui knows that's not the only reason. And Ruki's behavior with Adam makes Yui more nervous every day. And with this situation, it has become impossible for her to recover.

After leaving his room, Ruki went to Adam's room. He was angry for no reason. Even he didn't know why he was just angry. Maybe he hadn't put his past behind yet and only blamed Adam.

Ruki angrily opened the door of Adam's room and went inside, looking at Adam with a pitiful look. Adam looked at his father with surprise and without knowing what the matter was.

Adam: Papa... what's the problem...

*slap*

A hard slap hit Adam in the face, causing him to fall to the ground. The little boy looked at his father with surprise and fear. He put his hand on his reddened lip. He was so scared that he might cry at any moment.

Adam: Papa...

Ruki: Shut up...don't call me that name. You pathetic founder. You were the one who brought this disaster to Yui and me. You ruined our life.

Adam: ...

Adam was speechless. He couldn't even say a word, just looked at his father in fear. Tears flowed from his eyes. Was he really looking at his father? The same father used to hug him when he was little and sleep next to him at night.

Ruki looked at Adam with hatred. He grinned and took out the knife he had hidden in his clothes.

Adam: Papa... what are you doing?

Ruki: Shut up... I told you not to call me by that name. I am not your father. That stupid founder is your father. The same person who destroyed my life.

Adam was scared and just cried. He wanted to run but his legs were immobilized by fear.

Ruki: Heh... I am now doing what I had to finish that night.

Adam: Asahi was right...

Ruki: ...

Adam: He was right. You are neither strong nor brave. You are coward you are weak Mom fought her illness all this time for the sake of her family. But you are the cause of her illness. Because you couldn't be as strong as her.

Ruki: Shut up... you idiot... don't you understand that you are the cause of all this misery? This would not have happened if you were never born. I am now doing this favor for myself and my family and I am sending you to the hell of your family.

Ruki walked up to Adam and pointed the knife at his stomach and quickly stabbed him. But everything happened in a quick moment. Adam was supposed to be facing him. But why? Why the bright eyes that always looked at him with love are facing him. For a moment he thought he was looking into Adam's eyes. But those eyes lost their sparkle. Those eyes were not Adam's eyes. It was Yui's eyes.

Yui had shielded herself from Adam. Her bright eyes were soulless now. There was no more sparkles and tears had flowed from her eyes.

Yui: Why???..... Why?.... Didn't you promise.... to take care of our family... Ruki... Why.... did you?

Yui's lifeless body fell to the ground. Blood was flowing from her body. Adam was shocked and looked at his mother's lifeless body with tears in his eyes.

Ruki: Yui...

Ruki dropped the knife on the ground and ran to Yui and hugged her. He rested his head on Yui's heart. But he doesn't hear her heartbeat. The heart that always made him happy and gave him a smile is now silent and lifeless.

Ruki: Yui.... my angel... please... *sob*... please wake up....

Tears welled up in Ruki's eyes. Adam was speechless. He could not say anything. He was scared and only looked at the lifeless body of his mother and father who were crying.

Ruki: Yui... Yui... Aaaaaggghhhhhhhh

Ruki looked at the knife and took it and plunged it into his heart. At the last moment, he looked at Adam with a look full of hatred. And while holding Yui in his arms, he kissed her.

Ruki: Yui... my angel... I'll come back to you.... *cough*... Adam... I hope you burn in hell... where you belong.

Ruki closed his eyes and took his last breath while holding Yui in his arms. A strange silence filled the room. The room smelled of death and a little boy was looking at the lifeless body of his parents with tears in his eyes. Until he heard a voice behind him.

Asahi: Onui-chan... what's going on here?

Adam looked behind him. His little brother was looking at him with a face full of fear. Adam ran out of the room without saying a word. He left the house and ran away.

In the dark night while it is raining incessantly, a little boy is running in the streets with fear and eyes full of tears. He panted and ran. He didn't even know where he was going, he just wanted to run away. But he could never escape from the truth.

Adam kept running until his foot slipped and he fell to the ground. While it was raining and his little body was wet, he was crying and looking at his hands.

Adam: This is not real. This is a nightmare... a nightmare... I... I...

*flashback*

Ruki: You damn founder... I wish you were never born... It was your birth that destroyed my family.

*End of flashback*

Adam: I'm... a... foun...

Adam was looking at his hands with a pitiful look. He wished to die. All the events that happened now took all the reasons for his life.

Adam: Mom... Mom... forgive me... I'm sorry that I was born... *sob*...

Little boy was sitting in the rain in wet clothes and crying. He had lost the whole reason for his life and wished to die. Until he heard a faint voice behind him. A voice that calls him like a whisper.

???: Adam's son... you woke up???

Adam: ...

Adam looked behind him. A tall man with red eyes and white hair came towards him. He had a scary smile on his face and approached her.

Adam: Who are you?

The stranger knelt down next to the little boy without saying a word. He wiped the tears from his eyes with his finger and gently stroked his head.

???: Adam's son is here, really amazing.

Adam:...

???: Poor Boy. You must have endured difficult conditions. Don't worry. You don't have to worry anymore. Your birth was a sacred event that is going to change the world. Take my hand to introduce you to the new world.

With an evil grin, the stranger held out his hand to the little boy. He was waiting for the opportunity to take this kid's hand. Adam took his hand and the young man was ready. He was ready to start a new era. An era that will change the world and create a new world for humans and demons. Adam's son has woken up and started a new era.

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