#in a relatively good mood but my arm still hurts

[1796samuel-seabury1729]

goodnight i love you guys so very much ill talk to you in the morning :]

[reidrum]

the prophecy part 1:

cards on the table, mine played out like fools in a fable | s.r.

A/N: trying something new…..this one’s been on my mind for too long and the angst hurt too good. sorry in advance ! perhaps a part 2 who’s to say ..,,,..,. ?

cw: bau!fem!reader, spoilers for prison arc, implied talks of SA (referring to when lindsey doses spencer in mexico), maeve donovan, just angst bro this doesn’t end well

summary: you and jj accompany spencer to cat’s correctional facility to play her games, except there’s more than one loser

wc: 2.1k

part 2

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Cat Adams’ taunts and demands have led Spencer, JJ, and you to visit her in her correctional facility to play whatever game she has for him. Emily had you and JJ go with him given his erratic state from just being released, in hopes that you both could regulate and monitor the whole meeting.

You and JJ watch Spencer walk in stoically, sitting down across from Cat as she smiles at him. He angrily demands for his mother’s location, but she gets upset and tells him that he doesn’t get to treat her like a criminal. She only agrees to tell him the location if he plays her game, and figures out the secret she knows about Spencer.

Spencer’s brain works overtime to figure out what he’s missing, what Cat could possibly be holding against him that would make him deny the truth of it. He runs through all the scenarios; Spencer being able to now understand how it feels to have a parent used as a pawn, Cat wanting him to admit his love for her. But she shakes her head and reveals that a clue was left in a scrapbook in Spencer’s apartment.

You remember you took a picture of it when you went with Spencer to scope it out, and pulled it out to show JJ.

“Is that an X and a Y?” She ponders, “What could that mean?”

“I think it’s…” You stop halfway, realizing what it means. Your face drops and you look back in the room to watch Spencer come to the same conclusion.

“We’re pregnant!” Cat sings.

You and JJ look at each other in shock, the blonde’s voice slowly drowning out as you sink further into the Cat shaped hole. You vaguely hear her mention going to the guard to find her medical records, but all you can think about is how she could be bearing Spencer’s child.

Spencer and you had been together for a little over two years now. While still in the relative early stages, a lot about your relationship had been figured out and solidified. It was the most secure you’d ever felt with anyone, and despite the road bumps with Mexico you felt that you both came through it as well as any couple would in that situation.

You loved Spencer, and Spencer loved you. Right now was just another one of those road bumps, just like Mexico. That’s what you needed to tell yourself.

JJ bursts through the door with the medical documents, “I got them.” breaking you out of your spiral. You both anxiously look at the paper to find a little (+) sign ticked next to the pregnant box.

Cat Adams really was pregnant. You think you could be sick, you feel JJ’s hand grip your arm in an attempt to tether you back down, but it’s a futile effort. Your brain has already taken the information and ran a billion different directions with it, each coming up with a more crazy conclusion.

You stare blankly into the interrogation room as Spencer vehemently denies the child being his, denying any such way that it could even be his. The disbelief is ruling his words as he shuts down any theory that gives it truth, until Cat reminds him of the heavy dose he was given in Mexico. It hit him then, if he could barely remember the third person in that room, he had no bearing on whatever else transpired.

Spencer tries not to let the anxiety and shock show on his face as he sits down to face Cat in the eyes, “How did you do it?”

“I gave Lindsey very specific instructions to get you in the mood.”

“She pretend to be you?”

“Why, would that have worked?”

“No.” he says sternly.

She pauses, ego clearly bruised, “Yeah, I know. I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid "Hot or Not" list. I told her to pretend to be Maeve. Maeve Donovan, who had her brains blown out right in front of you before you two could even kiss.”

Spencer’s face falls. No, he thinks, no no no. He looks back at the one way window behind him, knowing very well he can’t see you but you’re watching everything unfold disastrously.

Your heart drops so fast it could have very well been seismic. To your horror, Cat continues.

“I thought about telling her to pretend to be your little BAU girlfriend,” she chuckles, “But then I realized, you only had one love of your life. and you won’t let anyone else measure up.” She leans in closer, “By the way, I know that you still think about Maeve when you’re, you know, with your little crime fighter over there. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She gives an over exaggerated wink to the window.

Spencer feels like he’s seeing white, anger coursing through his body as the reality of his situation comes to a head. He’s definitely not thinking when he pushes the table aside harshly, grabbing Cat by the collar and pushing her against the wall. He’s only able to stop when JJ is beside him suddenly attempting to pull him back, reminding him that she’s pregnant.

His fists are clenched and without a second thought he storms out of the room, his tunnel vision taking him right past you and JJ.

JJ doesn’t know what to do, she looks back into the room to see Cat smirking to herself, and god if she didn’t have morals she’d finish what Spencer started. She thinks it’s wise to go after Spencer and check on him, knowing that Cat’s timer is still ticking and the faster he gets back in there the sooner they can find his mother.

But then she looks at you and suddenly her feet are rooted next to yours.

She lays her hand on your shoulder and gently speaks, “Hey, I’m right here okay?”

You nod mindlessly, hoping you can keep the ocean of tears at bay with whatever resolve you can muster. She squeezes her hand at your acknowledgment and doesn’t move.

How is she supposed to even comfort you? How are you supposed to process this?

You knew how important Maeve Donovan was to Spencer. The whole thing had happened a year before you joined the team, only having heard the story through your teammates. It was tragic, there was no other way to put it, and your heart clenched for Spencer for having to go through that by himself. When you both first started dating, he disclosed the more intimate details to you, wanting nothing to be left unspoken about his past to affect his future with you.

What a cruel twist of fate.

“I—I think,” you stutter, “I have to go, JJ, I can’t be here right now.”

“But—“ She starts.

You cut her off, “No, JJ you have to go talk to Spencer and get him back in there. The longer his mom is with Lindsey…” you trail off.

She nods, understanding that you’re thinking about the priorities right now, “Okay, okay I’ll go find him. Where are you going to go?”

You could go home, the one you share with Spencer. Or you could go back to the office, the one you also share with Spencer.

Every realization adds another needle to your stack, and you’re about to crumble under the weight. “I—I don’t know.” You whimper.

JJ closes her eyes to think quickly and grips your shoulders, “Go back to the BAU okay? I’m going to call Emily and tell her to expect you back, you go straight there, do you understand me?” she emphasizes. JJ is smart enough to know that you cannot be alone right now, and that Spencer wouldn’t be able to scrounge up whatever focus he could into getting answers from Cat if he knew you had left by yourself to god knows where.

All you could do was nod, and hope and pray that your feet would carry you to the car and back to the bureau. JJ was nervous having you drive back, but she really didn’t have a choice. All she could do was notify Emily, as well as Penelope for tracking purposes, that you were headed back, and to not ask you too many questions.

After you left, JJ stood in the waiting room for a brief moment before going to find where Spencer went. She finds him sitting on the floor of an unused interrogation room with his head tucked into his knees.

She speaks quietly to not startle him, “Hey.”

He looks up at the voice, JJ noticing his eyes flit around and behind her as if looking for something, or someone. His eyes sulk back when he’s unable to find it.

Spencer opens his mouth to speak, “Is she—“

“She’s going back to the BAU, Emily knows she’s on the way,” she cuts him off already anticipating his question, “Listen, whatever you’re feeling about what just happened right now has to be paused. You need to focus and finish this stupid game with Cat so we can find your mother and be done with her.” She grits out.

He sighs shakily, he doesn’t even want to think about what must be going through your head. As much as it pained him to experience her vitriol first hand, you were on the other side of that window listening to every word Cat spewed out. And somehow, knowing you watched all of that hurt worse than Mexico, worse than Tobias Hankel, and even worse than Maeve Donovan.

Cat was playing a deeply fucked psychological game with him, and she had now called you in as a pawn. You, his darling girl. The one who made him see the light of the sun after it was constantly being put out, the one who loved him through his mother’s illness and wrongful imprisonment, the one who is, with all and every bit of certainty, the love of his life.

If the velvet black box in his sock drawer was any testament to the power that love held, he hoped it would take mercy on him in this moment.

He stands up and paces the room for a moment before kicking the chair to the other side of the room. JJ startles, her eyes widening but attempting to remain neutral faced as Spencer sorts out his emotions.

“Spence, we need to focus,” she reminds him, “Time is running out.”

“I know,” he mumbles and paces the room hoping to have a stroke of insight, “I have an idea.”

———

You must be no better than a zombie in the final apocalypse when you walk into the bullpen, stumbling around with glassy eyes, no regard for what’s in your way. The apathetic coping mechanism you’ve deployed almost makes you seem as mindless as those monsters, if it weren’t for Penelope to show up and steady you.

“I gotcha, honey,” She makes eye contact with Emily, acknowledging that she’s got you, before turning back to you again, “Come here, let’s sit down.” Penelope sits you down in the nearest chair and drags another one for her to sit right next to you.

You don’t speak for an hour after sitting. Penelope doesn’t ask, only checking in every ten minutes to see if you want a snack or some water, to which you shake your head no every time. She’s too busy typing away on her laptop getting information that could help the team find Spencer’s mother, the last thing you want to be is a bump in the road for them.

Another hour passes before the team exits the conference room, alerting you and Penelope that they think they’ve found the cabin where Diana and Lindsey are. Emily gathers everything they need before approaching you in the bullpen.

“Do I have to be here when you guys come back?” You ask quietly.

Emily sighs, understanding the gravity of your circumstance, “No, you don’t. Will you let Garcia drop you home though? Give us all a peace of mind.” She chuckles humorlessly, unknowingly squeezing the other shoulder JJ didn’t.

You know the ‘all’ she’s referring to really just means one person. It doesn’t make you feel any better, but you don’t think it’s meant to. She brings you in for a tight hug, “I’ll check on you after, okay?”

You nod and release from her embrace. Penelope gathers her things next to you and you both walk to the elevator.

“Honey,” It pained Garcia to see you like this, and she didn’t know how she could help, “What can I do?”

You sniffle and shrug, there isn’t much she can do. There isn’t even much that you could do. Not that anything you could do would be enough, it was never enough. Not for you, not for the team, and not for Spencer.

With a bitter chuckle you answer Penelope’s question,

“Bring back Maeve.”

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Just a Scratch

Sylus x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, slightly steamy at the end, comfort, accidental reader hurt, Sylus being moody, he's so baby girl, pet names, hurt/comfort like a mf, good ending because I can't stay mad at my baby

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You woke up to an empty bed. Groaning, you groggily made your way to the kitchen where you heard shuffling. Sylus stood, stirring the contents of his coffee cup before taking a drink. His face looked unusually hard. You decided to tread lightly, not knowing what kind of mood he was in. His stoic face made you nervous that he might be mad, probably over something in the N109 Zone. You padded into the kitchen before gently wrapping your arms around Sylus’ waist. You felt his body tense before he walked out of your grasp and into the living room. You shoved down the pang of hurt you felt in your chest before following him. He sat on the couch, drinking and watching the morning news lazily. 

You sat on the couch next to him, “Honey…” you said, trying to get his attention. 

No response.

“Baby…” you said a little louder, inching closer to him. 

No response.

“Sylus?” you said clearly, moving to straddle his lap so he couldn’t ignore you. 

Sylus let out an annoyed sigh, his eyes narrowing in irritation. He used his evol to sit you back on the couch, far away from him and rather harshly. You hit your arm on the corner of the couch, the wood cutting your arm. You sucked in a sharp breath, looking up to find Sylus’ eyes. Yet you found nothing. A few black feathers scattered on the couch and floor were all that remained of Sylus. Your eyes watered as you sat there for a moment taking in what had just happened. You sniffled before getting up and going to the bathroom to clean the cut and put a bandaid over it. You thought hard, trying to think of anything you could have done to upset Sylus. Nothing was coming to mind. You walked back to your shared bed, climbing back in to have a proper sulk. You reached out, grabbing his pillow. You held it to your chest, breathing his scent which lulled you back to sleep. 

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Mephisto watched you sleep which means Sylus watched you sleep. He sighed as he sat in his office. A deal had completely blown up last night and the aftermath was becoming Hell to deal with. Right now he had Luke and Kieran dealing with the clean up which was relatively easy. But the lost product was a painful dig to him. Granted, it didn’t really matter. He was completely in control of the N109 Zone, one deal gone wrong is nothing. But for some reason it had him upset, no - angry. How did he not see it coming? He watched you sleep, cuddling his pillow. He noticed a bandage on your arm. Sitting up quickly he had Mephisto get closer so he could clearly see why you were bandaged. The very sight of a few red blood drops on the white gauze had him rushing out of his office, using his evol to get home as quickly as possible.

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

Your eyes cracked open only to meet Mephisto’s. You groaned, “Go away you little snitch.” you said, shooing him away from you. You heard footsteps from the hall; not wanting to deal with Sylus and his foul temper from this morning you did the most logical thing in that moment. You pretended to be asleep. Sylus walked in, Mephisto finally flying off the bed to perch himself on the dresser. 

“Sweetie…” Sylus said carefully. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at your sleeping figure. His fingers ghosted over your arm, barely touching the bandage.

You winced slightly involuntarily. 

“Baby, are you awake?” he whispered, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I don’t know, are you still an asshole?” you mumbled, keeping your eyes closed in defiance. 

Sylus sighed; he deserved that one. “What happened to your arm?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes as soon as you opened them, not dignifying him with an answer. But the longer you looked at him the more you recognized the genuine confusion and worry in his face. “You happened.” you said, sitting up against the headboard. 

His eyes widened, “What… I did that? When?” he asked frantically. 

You raised your eyebrows in confusion, “This morning? When you shoved me off your lap.” you said. “You didn’t notice?” you asked.

“Do you really think I’d leave if I knew you were hurt?” he said, reaching out tentatively to caress your arm and make sure the cut was wrapped properly. 

“Why were you so angry this morning?” you asked.

His touch stilled and his face hardened for a moment, “Business deal gone wrong.” he said. He never hid his work from you, but he also didn’t volunteer information. 

“So what - you have a bad day and take it out on me?” you asked, it came out harsher than you intended. 

“I’m sorry… for all of it. You’re right and I’m so fucking sorry. You know I would never hurt you on purpose.” he said looking down. There was no argument to be had, he knew he was in the wrong and needed to make it right. 

You sighed, you didn’t want to fight. And he was sorry, you knew he would never hurt you. “Next time just… talk to me. Even if you just ask to be alone for a bit, I won't be offended. We gotta communicate to avoid stuff like this honey.” you said, intertwining your hands. 

Sylus nodded to himself. He looked over to you, his eyes were glossy and full of guilt. You pulled him closer to you, catching his lips in a kiss before you wrapped your arms around him. “I love you.” he said, cradling your cheek.

“I love you.” you replied, kissing his cheeks before enjoying his lips once more. You deepened the kiss, wanting to lose yourself in him as you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

Sylus moaned at the contact, his deep voice emitting the sweetest noises as you turned him on. You knew him better than anyone, and you knew what made him tick. You felt over him, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off him so his broad chest was heaving against yours. 

“I have no intention of letting you leave this bed if we continue.” he whispered against your lips.

“So be it.” you smiled before pulling him back down into a burning kiss.

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

Naboo's Note:

Obsessed with this hunk currently - his voice as me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Hope ya'll like :) will write more soon, who should I write for next? XOXOXOXOXOXOX

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers and their babies (including partner's pregnancy)

TW: no?

Characters: Jedidiah Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt

Ps: English is not my native language, so sorry for misspels ♡

Jedidiah Sawyer

• Jed spent all his free time with you; he always felt very comfortable in your company. Therefore, when your condition deteriorated sharply, he became worried. Frequent migraines; morning vomiting; refusal of some food that you, as a guy knew, loved very much; swelling and bad mood. Sawyer was seriously scared and immediately let his mother know about it; Verna always understood her son without words.

• When the woman talked to you, she mentally made some conclusions, but she didn't say anything to you, much less to Jed. The only thing she gave you some instructions to ease your condition: less housework, loose clothes, rest and the absence of human meat in the diet.

• After a while, when your belly became a little more noticeable, Verna talked to you about this topic, but asked not to bring Jedidiah up to date; Sawyer mom didn't know how the boy would react to this news.

• When the deadline was slowly approaching, she personally sent you to the hospital. Thanks to the connections of her new man, she was able to provide you with a place in good conditions.

• Jed was very restless. Why did you leave? Are you tired of him? Was he rude or did he hurt you? Please come back, he will definitely try harder, he will be a good boy!

• After a relatively easy delivery, you were in the hospital for a week. Back at the Sawyer house, you were greeted by a terrified Jed. He came out of the basement, painfully looking at you with his eyes-coals and twisting his fingers. His whole body showed uncertainty and fear, he was afraid to let you down, that you would leave again. But inwardly, Jed was so glad you were back. You're not leaving him anymore, are you?

• "Jed. This is our baby," you babble, gently looking at the child.

• Only now does the guy notice the bundle in your hands. Baby? Your baby? Your common child. . ?

• You hold out the baby to Jed, and Verna helps gently lay the baby in his arms. Jed can't believe his eyes. In his arms now lies a little snuffling miracle, his child, no, your child, the fruit of your and Jed's love. And is it really true? Jedidiah begins to gently sway from side to side, as his mother once soothed him during nightmares. He looks at the wrinkled little man with eyes full of love and all kinds of tenderness.

• "You're gonna be a great dad, Jed," you say, kissing the guy on the cheek.

• Only now does he understand your past state. You didn't leave him, you just went to the hospital! All the time he couldn't do anything, you were carrying your child, fighting for his life.

• Jed looks up at you and you see his copper eyes filled with confidence and readiness for this responsibility. He won't let you down. You will be wonderful parents. Together.

Bo Sinclair

• Bo notices that you've been getting more and more nervous and short-tempered lately. Usually after dinner you sit on the sofa with him and coo softly, laying your head on his chest; now you immediately go to your shared bedroom and fall asleep or spend the rest of the evening there, at least when Bo comes into the room, you will already be asleep, curled up in a duvet.

• Usually Bo does not take into account someone else's mood and puts himself first; because of this, you have frequent conflicts, which, in most cases, end with your hysteria. With this outcome, the man hugs you and presses you to his body, stroking your back and apologizing countless times. Still, it's hard for him to get used to the fact that someone else in this house has a fickle character.

• After a couple of weeks, he begins to notice the plumpness of your lower abdomen. He thinks it's cute. Therefore, with your subsequent proximity, he certainly bites your soft flesh.

• In the third month, he already begins to think about your condition. You spend most of the day in your room and only occasionally go out to your brothers, usually to cook a meal and also quickly go upstairs with a full plate. It's not like you! Without your presence, the Sinclair meal turned into a simple quick swallowing of food; no one else enjoyed the meal; there were no jokes, stories, advice and other nonsense that had annoyed Bo up to that point. Now he just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before.

• You ask Bo to go to the city with you, to which he actively agrees, and you buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy. Even though you already knew the answer, you wanted to show it to Sinclair. Two stripes. "That's what it turns out. . . Am I going to be a father?"

• The man is proud, very proud and incredibly happy! With the available money, Bo starts buying neutral furniture for the child and various things for you (up to some snotty magazines with cute actors' faces).

• Bo gave you full access to his closet: after all, you've always loved his clothes, especially big T-shirts, which can now make it easier for you to dress with a slowly growing stomach.

• Bo fulfills your every whim. No matter how stupid he is, a man understands that carrying a child is a huge job that requires a lot of effort, so now you are deprived of almost all the responsibilities (he threw off cooking to Lester, and Vincent considered a man who, with his love for beauty, will be able to clean this house wonderfully).

• He doesn't stop teasing Vincent: "Ha, freak! Have you seen that? Have you seen that?! I'm going to be a father, damn it! And you continue to sit and rot among your empty paintings!". After that, you scold Bo and calm Vincent down. "Vinny, this will be your nephew. I'm sure you'll make a good uncle." This significantly affects Bo's self-esteem.

• When Bo finally picks you and the baby up from the hospital, he doesn't let the baby out of his arms for a good five hours. He gives up immediately after he hears the shrill howl of the baby.

• With all his dislike of strong noise, he becomes a good father. At least he knows how to feed a baby, although otherwise he should learn.

• As soon as the child takes the first steps, Bo begins to tell him about the city, in particular about the museum. The kid just looks at his father as if he's crazy.

Thomas Hewitt

• During your pregnancy, Tommy's favorite way to show his support: he picks up your body and puts it on his lap, pressing his back to his chest; his head is buried in the curve of your shoulder and neck; his hands cover your palms on your voluminous stomach.

• Both before and after pregnancy and childbirth, Tommy carries you in his arms. He tries not to leave you alone for more than half an hour.

• You have to give birth right in this house, the nearest city is very far away, and the old man Hoyt does not want to shine. Fortunately, it all ends well.

• Thomas looks at the little man in your arms for a couple of minutes. Flushed, wrinkled skin; clenched fists; kicking feet; squeezed eyes and a piercing scream. This child is literally from one and a half of his palm!

• Hewitt quickly gets used to the smallness of this creature and cradles the child in his arms with uncharacteristic tenderness and caution — Tommy treats the baby like a crystal vase, which, with a little pressure, will burst, crumbling into thousands of small fragments. Although with his superhuman strength, it probably would have been.

• Tommy watches you breastfeed with fascination; it makes you blush a little. A man with unprecedented zeal and interest looks after all your manipulations in relation to the baby. In the end, after a while, he also begins to perform these actions well.

• "Tommy, I need to go out for a while. Luda-May needs help. Can you babysit with [baby's name]?". He nods. When you come back, you see Thomas snuffling on the bed. He put one hand under his head, the other covered your child, who, apparently, followed the example of his daddy and now also drooled on the pillow. Such a cute scene.

• Who would have thought that a Texas maniac with a chainsaw is capable of such tenderness?

• When a child turns two, you stop putting him in the crib at night, and put him between you and Tommy. Hewitt clasps your hands together and covers the baby with them, creating an improvised barrier.

• Thomas turns out to be a very attentive and caring father. He treats the baby carefully and tries in every way to please him/her. Besides, when the three of you are alone in the room, he takes off his mask! The kid feels his father's face curiously.

• The man is still worried that his illness may manifest itself in the child.

• Unexpectedly, but your child and Thomas' favorite game is hide—and-seek. It looks especially strange when a man two meters tall and wide enough in girth is trying to hide.

• Yes, when your baby turned four, Thomas taught him to human flesh.

• The best toy? Daddy's chainsaw!

Okay, it was something a little strange, but I hope you enjoyed it <3

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing(s): Billy Butcher x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Billy Butcher x Reader x Logan Howlett, slight!Billy Butcher x Becca Butcher

Warnings: this dynamic has just been on my mind, i have lsfav to finish but damn do i keep getting inspiration for billy butcher and logan<3, cheating, previous relationships mentioned, lets say this takes place in the beginning of the boys season 2?, brief deadpool cameo, jealousy, situationship, friends with benefits, crossover, the boys x marvel, soldier girl!au tidbit, yes i named it after a mean girls musical song

His grip tightens on the nape of your neck, Butcher takes another inhale and grimaces to himself.

He pulls away from you. Those dark eyes that usually shine with affection toward you were void of any life, a black chasm drilling into you. Hurt knits his brows together and set his lips into a deep grimace.

You knew his fingers were tightening as his hand shook but you couldn't feel the pressure.

"Who is he?"

Fuck

Why of all days did he decide to pay you attention? Lately he'd been in such a piss mood because Logan (aka your fuckbuddy) had been evading him for a while now. Also annoying how another supe known as Deadpool was helping Logan escape every time Butcher came relatively close.

You'd come up with excuses as to why you couldn't help out in capturing him.

Unconciously you sniff at your hair and internally curse Logan for constantly smothering his face in your hair. His signature scent of whiskey, cedar and dare you say even a hint of cigar smoke.

With a simple shrug, you dislodge his hand from your throat and take a step back in observation of his rigid frame. You think of all the times you 'd been jealous of Becca. You knew it was petty of you. She was his wife after all. It didn't matter that you'd known him the longest or that he'd quite possibly been the love of your life when you were in our early twenties.

"We never discussed being exclusive, Butcher." you quietly remind him. Butcher didn't like that reply, his feelings evident in the snarl that curls his upper lip. He couldn't get mad at you. You were right.

Haughtily he stomps around you, heading for the door.

You sigh after he loudly slams the door. Hughie pokes his head out from an adjoining room. "That didn't sound good. . ."

Refusing to give into Butcher's tantrum, you fold your arms in front of your chest. "Just let him blow off steam. Either way. . . It's not like I'm his partner or anything. We fuck on occasion. That's it."

"Not to mention your previous relationship with him?" Hughie brings up. "He might still have genuine feelings for you. Maybe for him, its not just fucking. You know Butcher. He's too proud for his own good so of course he's not going to mention it if you don't-"

"Jesus Christ Hughie, be someone else's goddamn therapist!" Snapping you immediately regret it when Hughie's mouth presses into a thin line. "I'm sorry, Hughie. . ."

Talking about your feelings wasn't normal for you either. Soldier Boy thought emotions were for pussies. Even if he'd had a soft spot for his daughter, it made him uncomfortable whenever you talked about your feelings. He wasn't equipped to deal with that.

"No, it's my bad. I should stay out of it."

You run a hand through your hair. "Fuck, Hughie. . .I really didn't want to think that this would hurt him. Or maybe I did. . . Shit, did I just ruin everything?"

Logan wasn't someone permanent, both of you knew that. Trouble followed both you and Logan. Intersecting your lives would conclude with utter chaos. You really liked him though. Damn you say you were fond of Logan and his reserved nature. You'd come to appreciate waking up to his face that still possessed a hint of a scowl in his brows. Weary lines etched into his features were engrained in your memory.

Hughie gives a pause before inquiring "Is it someone we know? If it is, we should give them a heads up."

A shake of your head, you plop down on a chair that is barely held together by duct tape. Your stuck in your thoughts of Logan. His long sideburns that you liked to play with when you lay in his arms. You'd even got to know Wade and had taken to calling Logan 'Peanut' too. He'd definitely become more than a simple booty call. Logan slowly entwined his life with your's.

"No. Butcher will never find out who he is. I'm certain of it. But to be on the safe side. . . I'll have to call it quits for now. I just- He's so focused on finding where Becca is that I didn't think it would bother him if I was with someone else."

There's another chair across from you that Hughie takes up. "He loves you a lot. He's never stopped. He told me that even when he was married to Becca, he loved you. Its hard when you love two people at once. You don't intend for it to happen, but circumstances will it into existence."

Internally you chuckle. Hughie really should have concerned therapy as a profession or some sort of degree in psychology. Yet you suppose he was in the same situation as both you and Butcher. He was falling in love with Annie/Starlight but would always love Robin.

Reaching for your phone, you're already pulling up your texts with Logan (you had him saved as '🥜').

[cariantha]

Hii 🥰

I saw this quote and thought it would maybe inspire you for a story or an edit 🥰

Hi Girlie!❤️I was looking through some of the prompts you've sent me, and a spark of inspiration hit me for this one, so I hammered out a quick fic this afternoon. 🤫Don't tell my boss.

Proud Parents

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff Word count: 661 Summary: Alan visits Louise at the rehab center a few days after Ethan drops her off.

Alan rapped his knuckles on the frame of the open door. “Knock, knock… are you up for a visitor?”

“Alan, hi. Come in,” Louise greeted. 

“These are for you,” he offered, handing her a small bouquet of pink flowers. 

“Oh, Al, thank you. They’re so pretty. I love lilies.” 

“Yes, I remember. How are you feeling, Lou?” he asked, taking in her new temporary living situation. 

“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been a lot worse.”

Alan nodded his head in understanding. “This place is nice. I was expecting something more like a medical facility. This feels more like a hotel.”

“I was pleasantly surprised, too. It was very nice of Ethan to set me up here. Would you like to head to the lounge for some coffee?” 

Alan extended his arm, gesturing for her to lead the way. “It was also kind of him to drive you here and help you get checked in. I hope you can appreciate how difficult that was for him, Lou,” he said as he followed her down the hall. 

“I do, and I'm grateful." She sighed, "Truth be told, I would have preferred it to be just the two of us, but he insisted his girlfriend come along.”

Alan took a seat on a nearby couch as Louise poured them each a cup of joe. “Oh? He hadn't mentioned that, but I'm glad Sawyer was there for him.”

“Still like it with cream?” she asked, holding up the container. 

“Please,” he answered. “What did you think of her?”

“She was very…” she thought for a minute, trying to find the right word, “protective of him.”

Alan smiled to himself as Louise handed him the coffee and sat in the armchair next to him. “Good.”

“He seemed pretty protective of her, too,” she admitted. “I confess I wasn’t very polite, and he let me have it.”

“Makes sense, especially since the attack at the hospital.”

Louise looked down into her coffee cup with a regretful frown. “I remember you mentioning that, but honestly, I was a little out of it at the time. I don't recall any of the details, only that Ethan had been there. Was Sawyer there, too?”

“Yes,” he answered morosely. “She was one of the victims… she was at death’s door, but thankfully pulled through.” 

“Oh, I didn't know that.” As Alan recapped some of the details, Louise was surprised to hear how harrowing the event had been. “How scary for them both. I can’t even imagine.”

Alan nodded slowly, then glanced reflectively out the window at the snow beginning to fall. “It rattled him, Lou,” he said. “Between the attack and your overdose, it's been a lot.” He returned his gaze to his estranged wife. “He still carries an enormous amount of hurt. Give him time and grace to navigate through it all.”

Feeling guilty, Louise nodded and looked down at her coffee again. 

Attempting to lift the mood, Alan shared, “Sawyer's been a good influence on him. She's a real sweetheart and isn't afraid to go toe to toe with him.”

Louise took a sip and shook her head with a knowing smile. “Lord, he was such a headstrong and stubborn child.” 

“You have no idea, Lou,” Alan chuckled, then added, “but he was a good kid. And he's become an even better man. I couldn't be more proud.” 

“I know I don’t know him like you, but I’m proud of him too. And I’m thankful he had you, Al. You did an amazing job raising him.” 

Alan dipped his chin in thanks, trying not to get emotional. 

“So, have they been together long?” Louise asked, bringing them back to lighter conversation again. 

“They've known each other for a little bit, but their relationship is still relatively new. It took a while for his stubborn ass to catch up with his heart.”

“That makes sense. He looks at her like he just realized what love is.”

Alan smiled joyfully. “Because I think he finally has.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction 

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst 

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz @snoopdogcone

@rafasgirl23415

[gothamite-rambler]

Rose and Raven: Trauma Bonding Buddies

Context: This connects to how they were portrayed in Teen Titans Go!—and I have to admit, that’s one of the few things I genuinely enjoyed about the show. It introduced me to Rose Wilson, and I also thought Terra's portrayal in it wasn't bad either.

Raven spotted Rose Wilson standing by the entrance of Titans Tower. Dick Grayson had told Raven and the other Titans that Rose was making great progress on being a better-ish person and no longer following her father's commands. She had proven trustworthy on a few missions with them, continuing to use the name Ravager.

Most of the Titans admitted they didn't trust her fully, but she was welcomed back to the team, and there she stood outside, texting on her phone. Raven had never hated Rose; in fact, she was one of the few people who came off as chill and relatable… to Raven, in an odd way.

Raven (walking over to the woman): Don’t let this blow up in my face—hey, Rose.

She waved, quickly lowering her arm to avoid looking awkward.

Rose (looking up from her phone): Rav—wait, Rachel, right?

Raven (slightly surprised): You—you remembered my other name?

Rose nodded with a smile.

Rose: How have you been?

Raven: Not bad. Kind of a less sucky life at the moment.

Rose: Mm, I know that feeling.

Raven: You do? Well, you are related to Slade, so I… guess you would. Not that I'm personally insulting you. Your dad sucks, not you. Is it okay to insult him?

Rose chuckled and shrugged.

Rose: I wear different colored eye patches now because I thought it would 'impress' him, and he screwed a teenager. I give you full approval to mock him all you want.

Raven: Awesome! Been wanting to say this then: he is seriously a massive butt head.

Raven let out a dry laugh, an uncommon sound for her, but the half-smile tugging at her lips revealed her effort to lighten the mood. This faint amusement spread to Rose, who initially resisted but couldn’t hold back any longer. She nodded in agreement with Raven, adjusting to the fact that her father was awful. Laughing at the goofy insult helped.

Rose: "Butt head" is an interesting description, but I don't disagree. You're being too nice, honestly.

Raven: I'm starting off small. Don't worry; as a member of the awful dad club, I know it takes time to grasp the full butt head picture.

Rose offered a knowing smile, then sighed as she propped her hand on her hip.

Rose: What really sucks is having to trick him into thinking I'm still loyal to him because I have no idea if he'll be a normal deadbeat dad and leave me the fuck alone.

Raven: You get used to it. My dad is horrid, as stated, but I swear he's like Hermes—only instead of tricks, he's petty. He inconveniences me in odd ways. One time, he sent me a Christmas gift in March, mind you, and it was filled with nothing but glitter.

Rose's smile was laced with curiosity as she raised an eyebrow, fascinated by the issue surrounding the glitter box.

Rose: What's bad about that? Was it cursed?

Raven scoffed, waving away that concern.

Raven: Glitter in a box is bad enough, but it was a stupid glitter bomb. That's how I knew what it was—and that glitter hurts like stubbing your toe in the worst possible way.

Rose (jokingly): At least you didn’t lose an eye.

Raven: Nah, but cleaning off my skin alone was not fun.

Raven pretended to scrub her arm, then showed the back of it to Rose, who saw a few specks of glitter on her arm. Rose laughed but covered her mouth.

Rose: Sorry, sorry, it’s just… that’s such a petty yet calculated thing to do.

Raven (happy): Right? The worst. Which leads me to a question I've been wanting to ask you because I'm nosy: Can you still see well with one eye now?

Rose blinked, surprised to be asked that question. When she saw that Raven was genuinely curious, she chuckled dryly.

Rose: Yes, the eye I stabbed wasn’t my good eye, I guess, and I can see relatively well—just not things on the eye patch side. Great news, though: designer eye patches are a thing. Definitely better than a solid black eye patch like he wears.

Raven: It works for you. Not going to lie, but you're so pretty. If I'm saying that it makes it true.

Rose (taken aback by the compliment): Why, thank you! I try to keep up appearances.

Rose flipped her hair, making Raven laugh flatly again.

Raven (hesitant but feeling bold): Hey, um… I’d actually like to keep talking. We can get lunch together or… go to the park or… I have no idea what girls do when hanging out together. Starfire started dating Nightwing and got… distracted.

Rose tucked her phone into her pants pocket and crossed her arms.

Rose (sincere): Honestly, if you were any of the other Titans, I'd say no—or “fuck off”—but I’m up for lunch.

Raven (surprised, deadpan): Seriously? I thought you’d say… the other responses or worse.

Rose shrugged with a side smile.

Rose: You were one of the few people friendly to me when we first met, even after you found out who I was unfortunately related to. Then I revealed myself as a double agent because Slade brainwashed me into working with him, and you were there trying to reason with me. When that didn't work, you—

Raven (interrupting): I gave you a magical girl beatdown? I've been watching a lot of Sailor Moon. Excuse my weirdness.

Rose chuckled, covering her mouth to hide her smile.

Rose: You're fine, and right, and funny too. When I finally realized what a piece of shit my dad is and left, I wanted to get back in contact with you, but the other Titans don’t trust me at all—except for Nightwing and maybe Starfire.

Raven (sincere): Nightwing is nice like that. I could see what Slade was doing to you, and I wanted to help you as best as I could. I guess I have the "bad dad radar"; might be an extra power I got. But wait… I'm on the same level with him?

Rose nodded, playfully punching Raven on the arm.

Rose (complimenting): You’re way cooler and strange, but in a good way.

Raven held her down with a smile as she kicked her foot playfully, happy with the compliment.

Raven (shyly): I've been working on having a good mix of stoic but kind when I actually like the person—goth girl essence if you will. Glad I'm not failing at that.

Rose agreed with a bemused expression as she placed her left hand on her hip and shifted her weight that way.

Rose: It's definitely paying off. You’ll have to give me a few tips. You just have this mysterious yet warming aura—not evil though. Sorry, I feel like that sounded dumb to you.

Raven (nonchalantly): Oh, you’re not wrong. Good read, which I've been practicing a lot lately, so let me try it on you.

Raven squinted her eyes while looking Rose up and down, and Rose stood there eagerly, waiting for Raven's reading.

Raven (accurately): Hm… how do I put this? You have a mysterious aura yourself, but less “stab me after hitting me with your car,” and more “jaded but mellow.” If that makes any sense.

Rose (agreeing): It does. My line of work, without dealing with daddy dearest, has led me to become more bad-ass and mellow.

Rose semi-posed as she rested her arms behind her back. Raven rolled her eyes with an amused head shake.

Rose: Seriously, though, I've been getting better mentally, especially since Daddy Dearest is locked up. We can talk about family issues over lunch instead of standing outside the Tower. You ever been to Chili's?

Raven tilted her head, remembering that particular chain restaurant.

Raven (reluctantly): I’ve heard it’s awful to eat there.

Rose: Nah, that's Waffle House. Chili's has a mediocre atmosphere, but the food is good. We can take my car. I love the jalapeño poppers; they're the best. That’ll help while I ramble about my dad being the worst parent ever.

Raven chuckled in a scoffing tone.

Raven: Excuse me, but as the daughter of a demon lord, I have to disagree—save it for Chili's.

Rose (walking with Raven): Are you arguing that your father is worse than mine? Rachel, you jest.

Raven (wagging her finger): Nuh-uh, we’ll discuss this further at the restaurant. Oh, and you can call me Raven or Rachel, but honestly, I trust you enough to call me Rachel.

Rose smiled.

Rose: All right then, Rachel. I’ll treat today, but you’ve got the next meal.

Raven (nodding with a smile): Works for me… This might be me being sappy, but I'm glad you're back, Rose.

Rose winked and got into her car, with Raven sitting in the front passenger seat.

Rose: Not sappy at all; I'm glad to be back. Especially to hang out with you. Now, you want to wear these shades? I don’t really need them anymore.

Rose passed over a pair of retro-styled sunglasses with a chuckle. Raven took them and placed them on her eyes, then let out a little chuckle in a sincere way while giving a thumbs up. Rose smiled as she started her car and drove down the road with her new friend.

Raven and Rose being best trauma friend

Rachel “Raven” Roth and Rose Wilson debating over who had the suckier dad pt 2.

Rose's advice for the day

[v3nusxsky]

Hey how are you?

Can i request a plotinuc lesso x student reader where lesso was like patrolling (just walking around seeing if there was anyone to punish) when she heard a scream from r room cause they was having a nightmare. Preferably abt dead family (but if you want to do something diff thats fine) and lesso comforting her and becoming new mother figure

Have a good day X

Some Demons don't die

*Authors note~ nightmares are the bane of my existence so a caring lesso could always be perfect. Drabble.*

Trigger warnings~ nightmares dead family member, mentions of abuse

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Patrolling the halls wasn't Leonora's favourite idea for the night, but it was her night and she was in the mood to strike some fear into some nevers. You could almost always count on someone to be breaking the rules in her school. So far so good, quiet and oddly peaceful tonight until it was broken by a blood curling scream. That was most unusual and she couldn't help but go to investigate, the screams guiding her through the hallways.

The screams led her to your dorm. You were a relatively quiet and well behaved Never, so something had to be wrong for you to be screaming like this. Inside the room you were stuck with a nightmare of them. Your father was forever a haunting figure in your life, even though you'd been tortured in ways that you couldn't imagine experiencing by the man who helped create you. But you had and that was all you could do was suffer the consequences.

In your dream, you relived the last interaction you ever had with him, the moment he got caught and immediately killed over in a heart attack, little did you know he'd signed a DNR so he escaped any form of punishment he should receive, only he didn't kill over in the nightmare, no he just continued to torment you and hurt you.

Leonora was a good lock picker that was for sure. You'd locked it in attempt to keep others out. You didn't want anyone to know of your weakness, weakness could be exploited and you'd definitely had enough of that in your life.

When Leonora entered the room you were still in your nightmare, tears soaking the pillows as your arms and legs flailed about. Mumbling and muttering about how you want him to get off you. Go away. Stop hurting you. Lesso swore that her heart broke upon the sight. Truly she didn't want any of her Never students to be hurt like this. Evil yes, but cruel? No she was not. The fact you had been subjected to such a horrible act was truly unacceptable. Lesso would protect you.

She immediately settled on the bed and called for you to wake up, it took a few trys but you eventually came back to the land of the living, blinking to clear the haze. "Lesso?" You couldn't quite believe she was in your dorm. "I'm here, sweetheart how long have these been happening now?" You whispered a few weeks which caused the red head to scoop you up into her arms and give a comforting hug. "Come to me next time. I'll be here for you no matter what. You won't be hurt ever again I'll make sure of it."

Word count ~ 557

[christinafurby]

Christina leaves her Christmas tree up until February? So does Mia. 2x, Tiger left his Christmas up until March but unplugged it. Here is why. His grandma passed 5 days before Christmas 2019. He wanted to throw the tree out due to not being in the mood. His aunt told him to keep it due to his grandma getting it for him since she knew how much he loved it. She said to keep it to carry on her spirit. Usually, he would take the tree down the 1st week of January. He wanted to but it hurt too much. He & his grandma decorated that tree, so taking it down felt like it was getting rid of her spirit. That is why he just unplugged it but left it up. Since his dad was sick, he was more worried about his health than the tree. The pandemic hit a week before his grandma's birthday. His dad told him that his grandma would want him to take the tree down. He took it down as a birthday present to his late grandma. He put the Christmas tree back up before Thanksgiving 2020. By that point, his dad had passed. He was no mood to even put it up. Relatives told him to put it up since those would want him to enjoy himself. Again, he unplugged it after January but kept it up. Right before his grandma's birthday, he took it down.

We all deal with grief in different ways, thank you for making me feel less alone. Our sadness, anger, happiness, and every other emotion in-between are what binds us as humans and we feel how we feel inside. Christmas can be a very difficult time for a lot people, everyone can think of moments of sadness/emptiness especially around the holidays when all the memories come flooding in. When the storms hit try to remember, that even a memory that leaves you sad, is still a memory. Even though it's bittersweet and they might not be physically within your grasp they live FOREVER in your mind. You carry them in every beat of your heart, every breath you take is because they were, are,and ALWAYS will be a part of your life.

I haven't washed a few shirts since big kitty has been gone. When Cake passed away.. about 3 years ago now, I cried when I had to take my first shower.. I still have the hair tie up on the wall holder from when I was holding her the last time. I didn't shower for probably a good 2 weeks at least after Fluffy.. I haven't been hungry but I try to eat because "he'd want you to take care of yourself. You have to take care of yourself so you can be here for the other babies, they need you too" was said to me. I could go on but you get the point. Remember to let in happiness along with the sadness, "You can't have a rainbow without the rain" .. and, "It can't rain all the time".

Every year it seems to get more difficult to smile and I'm reminded of the Grinch.. Just make sure you don't shrink your heart two sizes too small. I'm also reminded of the song, "The Great Pretender". EVERYONE goes through ups and downs.. It's not what knocks us down or how far we fall that matters, it's how we get back up and what we do once we're standing again that does. The fact you took the tree down and were able to put it back up shows your love, tenacity, and inner strength. You loved ones love when you're happy because they love you as much as you love them. They're always in your heart, blood, bones, and soul. It's easier said than done, but it's important we carry their happiness on our shoulders so we can push through life and find our own.

Someone is looking up to you and admires you in a way you admire them, I PROMISE you that. Your fight for positivity means more than you realize. Sometimes how we deal with struggle and strife is the source of pure NECESSARY inspiration. I've been trying to sing to my other kitties because they all legitimately loved when I sang but big kitty used to love it the most.. I can feel him when I try to sing and go to pet him and feel his purrs and my legs and arms are empty. (I even cried typing that. Lol) .. So I haven't sang except for when Miss was passing.. I sang for her her favorite song and she was happy.. That was the last time I actually sang anything come to think of it. For months I've just lipped the words if I felt like singing.

I know I have to sing for my other babies it's just hard to get back into it.. Also it is something I really enjoyed so in a way I suppose it's a form of self punishment I'm sure. I'm angry at myself, many things, mostly tho.. I'm hurt down to my core and the one person who actually cared, understood, and was always there .. is gone a long with many things/people. I'm still here 🤷🏻‍♀️. I honestly don't feel like I really exist but I try to make a positive difference because I feel like that's the only POSSIBLE thing I can bring to the table in life anymore. Otherwise, I feel like I'm just a leech that'll eventually disappear and be forgotten. That's why I try to believe that we're all connected and that our happiness matters. You'll find your smile and festive again one day.. just like I'll find my song, or maybe I won't.. but atleast at the end I can say, "I tired".

it wouldn't hurt anyone but me if I never sang again. That's what you have to ask yourself, "Do I want to be happy?" And if the answer is AT ALL, "yes" then you must do whatever it is that makes you happy.. More importantly, stop doing what makes you sad. If you want to celebrate Christmas all year then do it! If you don't want to celebrate then don't.. Just remember the other options and keep asking yourself if this is "What I want?", "Will this make me happy in the long run?" and "Why am I doing this?' from time to time, and remember that it's okay to change your mind. Humans adapt and change all the time (with major body changes happening every 7 years or so). I believe in you and your happiness! There's light at the end of the tunnel friends (even if we're so far in we can't see light at either end).. Hold on to that wall and keep pushing forward! Your presence/force create a necessary centrifugal balance.

[namelesshdx]

SOOOOOOOO-

I saw a teaser for a HERO (OMORI) x Male reader one shot, and the author:

@fox-xx

Gave me permission to write something off from it!

You probably should go to his account first before reading this 'cause this is heavily influenced by it! It's basically just my continuation of the teaser he gave!

It's relatively far up on his page so don't sulk over having to scroll down for ages!

I won't add his part to this one, just because I didn't ask for his permission to use it! But I'll use the

I N S P I R A T I O N

I got from it! Like I said, go to his account and read the teaser first!

Also, This is gonna contain:

Weird phrasing ('cause I'm not english!), Angst(??) (It's mostly mild Angst), mentions of MARI and HERO past dating, Spelling errors (so far I didn't see any big ones), Death(only once and only briefly!)

And now...BEGINNING

You're not Her..

HERO x Male reader

continuation, inspired by @fox-xx 's first teaser! Go to his account first!:3

Also it's sorta short..

Speak of the devil..

You picked up your phone, looking at the text that he sent.

"Hey M/N! I have this amazing picnic spot that I wanna show you! So I'm asking you if you'd like to have a picnic? Just the two of us!"

How could you say no? So you replied with a short "Ofcourse ♡", and then getting dressed. He sent you the location, to which you left your house and started walking. The location was upon a hill, a hill covered in white flowers..A chuckle left your throat.

Walking up the hill, you were met with a casually dressed HERO, already standing there with his arms wide open. He's inviting you to a hug, how cute. With a big smile on your face, you took the invitation in and hugged him, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"Haha! MARI used to do that!"

Oh.

Again with her..

It's painful to be compared to your lover's dead former girlfriend, but yet he still can't seem to feel the same pain you feel. Her name rolls of his tongue so flawlessly, it just hurts. You never got to know MARI, you know nothing about her! Well, knew nothing. Until you and HERO started dating. Apparently everything you do, MARI did too. And everytime you'd try not to do it the same, MARI'S name still fell from his mouth. HERO could talk hours about her, or even days if he didn't have a precise sleep schedule! And everytime he told you how much you remind him of her, it just..

"Are you okay M/N?"

His voice guided you outside your thoughts. You both separate from the hug, you nodding at his words.

"I already did most of the unpacking, only the drinks are still in the bag."

You smiled. He sure is a gentleman. You wonder if he treated MARI the same way..You both sit down on the blanket, talking about college and HERO'S younger brother KEL.

"Y'know M/N, me and MARI used to sit here. Almost every day."

Wow, what a mood killer. You looked away, turning your head towards the 'Life Jam' packets. HERO didn't seem to notice this and kept on talking about how much you remind him of MARI..

"MARI used to love that jam!"

"MARI also liked my cooking!"

"MARI was almost as short as you!"

"MARI!"

"MARI!

"Sorry that I'm still not her.."

Hero stopped. He turned to face you, gasping slightly. Were you...crying?

"W-what's wrong M/N?"

His hands finding their place on each sides of your face. His eyes filled with worry. You slowly took his hands from your face, lowering them and letting them go. His expression changed into a questionable one. You can't do this..Not today

.

.

.

Not ever.

"HERO..I love you. But everything I do, this MARI girl apparently did too. I don't want to be compared to her anymore. It seems like you can't let go off her.."

Wow, HERO'S face dropped. He looked, well..Suprised! But you weren't done.

"I just want to be complimented, not compared! Just a simple 'Wow you're cute!' or 'I like your baking!' And not 'MARI used to be good at baking!' 'You smile just like MARI!' I am NOT MARI, okay? I'm me, M/N! You're boyfriend! Not girlfriend.."

HERO looked ashamed. He looked sad, scared but mostly just ashamed. He didn't notice that this was having such a big effect on you.

You felt the tears falling again. Quickly, you stand up and started walking away. Where? Probably home. HERO didn't say anything, nor did he move. You needed a good pause from ALL of this.

GAAHAHJSDH

I HOPE IT'S OKAYISH!

And I HOPE that YOU, The reader, ENJOYED

Again, check out his account! He has a follow up for the original teaser! So his will probably be better :)

Thank's for letting me write off from the Teaser!

~♡

[greatideas-badwriter]

Worth The Risk Chapter 13

Trigger warning! This chapter contains explicit descriptions of sexual and physical assault. Continue with caution.

A soft sigh flowed from Sakura's chest as she slowly began to wake, 'I'm so comfortable; I wish I could stay in bed all day.' Suddenly, the warmth against her shifted, and her hair was brushed from her face. Eyes fluttering open, she saw a bare chest. Terror flooded her entire body, ice shooting through her veins.

~Flashback~

Groaning, Sakura's brow furrowed. She'd been asleep but was roused by a weight atop her. When she opened her eyes, they locked onto blue ones and widened. That was when the poor woman realized what'd woken her up.

"Wh-What are you doing? Stop! Are you insane?"

Her boyfriend didn't stop. Something tied around her wrists kept them from moving more than a few inches off the bed. His hands pressed against the backside of her thighs, pressing them roughly apart and down against her chest. Holding them still as she tried to kick and fight him posed no challenge.

Sobbing, the woman squeezed her eyes closed and tried to make her mind go somewhere far away so she wouldn't have to experience the disgusting act he was forcing upon her. The tempo of his movements hadn't even stuttered since she woke.

"Look at me, Sakura."

"Fuck you."

The relatively rough way the man moved became violent, obviously intending to cause pain. Green eyes shot open in surprise, a cry leaving her mouth.

"That's better." He didn't become much gentler and spoke in a forced voice, tense with effort as he continued, "Why are you crying, Saku? You're my girlfriend, and I'm your boyfriend. If you woke me up like this, I'd be thrilled."

"You're hurting me! Stop, it hurts!"

Again, the man didn't stop.

~End Flashback~

A cry of fear left the woman, and she shoved against his chest, trying desperately to get away from him, "N-No, don't! Get off!"

Sakura fumbled, reaching under the pillow and grabbing the knife she hid there, opening it as she cowered against the wall with tears running down her face and trembling from head to toe. The weapon was pointed threateningly at the man in her bed.

"Hey! Hey, it's okay! It's me!"

Green eyes widened as she recognized the handsome, bewildered face before her. The man stood, holding the blanket to cover his lower body with one hand, the other lifted up in a calming matter.

"...Sasuke…?"

'But it…. It was him! He was here, in this bed! He was…!'

"Sakura, hand me the knife." Gasping, the woman dropped the weapon in her hand, and he picked it up without moving his attentive gaze from her face.

"I-I'm so sorry! I-I-I swear, I…." She trailed off, eyes glazing over as she recalled how realistic the memory that'd played across her vision had been. It'd been weeks since she'd had that dream. That experience, plus the fact that he'd thrown her through that window, was the event that made Sakura run away from Konoha.

Sasuke knelt by the bed, tilting his head as he studied her cowering appearance, "Were you-" "N-Nightmare. It was just a nightmare; I'm sorry!"

She knew he didn't believe her, and he knew she knew it, but neither acknowledged that.

"It's alright. Are you good now?"

'God, he's going to tiptoe around me now, right? This is exactly why I didn't want anyone to find out. Well, that and the shame. Who wants to be around someone so pitiful and weak? I trusted a monster that betrayed me in one of the worst ways possible. I'm a fuckin' idiot.'

The blood began to return to Sakura's face as she nodded. She accepted some of the covers as he laid back down, cautiously snuggling into his side. It wasn't as scary after last night, and the night she'd spent crying in his room. The woman was also in desperate need of comfort after that little episode.

Sasuke wrapped an arm around her bare waist, thumb brushing her hip as he lay on his back with his other arm bent behind his head, "You keep me on my fuckin' toes, I'll give you that."

'He's trying to lighten the mood. How is he such a nice person at times like this and an asshole at other times?'

Sakura scoffed, "Sure," she paused, voice becoming softer, "I really am sorry. I feel like an idiot. You probably think I'm crazy now, right?"

"Oh, I knew you were insane the day I met you. That ship has sailed."

The woman laughed quietly before letting out a warm hum and closing her eyes, snuggling closer with an arm slung across his midsection and a leg hooked over one of his. 'Somehow, he always makes me smile when I'm at my worst. This guy….'

Later, after showering and getting dressed, Sakura took a cab to the mall, where she did some very last-minute shopping, considering it was Christmas Eve. Classes were canceled today as a result. So, other than buying and wrapping gifts, the woman only had the party to attend tonight with Ino and nothing else on her schedule.

'It's kind of nice to do something normal like this,' the pink-haired woman smiled while walking through one of the stores that sold makeup, 'The snow is only falling slowly, and it looks all soft and fluffy. It feels like a cliche storybook holiday. I hope tonight goes well, too.'

Though all the people in the Akatsuki house had lied right to her face about who they were, Sakura had a soft spot for Christmas and felt it'd be extremely rude not to at least get everyone something small. Initially, she wanted to make homemade treatbags but realized they probably would get suspicious that the food had been poisoned since she now knew the truth. Sasuke told her they no longer wanted her to cook for them after all.

So, the pinkette decided to simply buy premade ones, 'It's easier for me this way, anyway.'

Maybe she was a little sour about it, but she'd never admit that out loud. 'After caring for them like children for a month now, you'd think they'd have a little more faith. Just because I don't want to join their gang doesn't mean I'm gonna try to kill them!'

After purchasing a few things for Karin and Ino, Sakura visited the candy store to get the items for the others and then took a cab home with just enough time to prepare everything and get dressed for the party. Sasuke, Itachi, and Kisame were in the den when she arrived, the two Uchihas looking her way.

The elder one spoke first, "Did you go shopping?"

She nodded, heading upstairs with a mild blush. The last time she saw him, she'd been a blubbering mess in the middle of a random convenience store. It was her desire to thank him for getting her back safely, but she was too embarrassed.

Sakura quickly constructed all the little gift bags and wrapped the few personalized gifts she'd gotten before changing into slightly nicer clothes and going into the bathroom to straighten her hair and put on some light makeup. 'Before that party, I thought Konan was just letting me borrow some of her stuff, but it turns out she'd bought it all for me to keep. She's really stoic, but she's not completely coldhearted.'

A short knock came at the door while the woman carefully applied mascara, and she called, "Come in!" without looking that way.

It opened, Sasuke's familiar voice meeting her ears, "What're you getting all dolled up for? Hot date?"

"Didn't I tell you? Ino invited me to a party tonight at her boyfriend's place. I might end up staying the night there. I'll text you," she responded casually, still not bothering to glance at him.

That is until he replied in a not-so-light-hearted voice, "No, you didn't. Don't you think you should've said something to me before now?"

Sakura's brow twitched, and she closed the mascara to turn and fix the man with a glare, "You don't completely own me. Unless it has something to do with my contract, I don't have to run every little thing by you."

'This is how my ex started off, too. I made the mistake of letting him get away with it. I refuse to let it happen again, so I'll make myself clear now.'

Sasuke's irritation matched hers, dark gaze burning into hers, "I just want to know where you are, Smartass. What if you get in trouble again?"

Sighing, the woman faced the mirror again, this time putting on a thin layer of lipstick that nearly matched the natural color of her lips, "Is that your round-about way of justifying it?"

Her arm was grabbed, and she was forced to turn and look up at the handsome man's angry face. He growled, "If you're gonna be a bitch, then just forget about it. Not everyone's out to get you, y'know." The man fixed her with that terrifying glare for a second longer before leaving, an air of wildfire annoyance about him.

'...Maybe he's right. He probably just wants to know where I'll be in case I don't want to stay the night and need a ride home. I guess I'm so used to being controlled and stalked that I assumed the worst,' she pouted while watching him walk away, 'He didn't have to call me a bitch, though.'

Once finished getting ready for the party, Sakura decided to apologize for snapping at him like she had, but the man was nowhere to be found. Feeling guilty, she placed the gift she'd wrapped in pretty blue paper on the foot of his bed with a little sticky note that said, 'Sorry I was an ass! -S,' before going downstairs.

The little gift bags the woman prepared were in a festive red bowl with snowflakes on it. Sakura placed it on the dining table with a note explaining there was one for everyone and finally left the house. The sun was setting. Since Sai's place was across town, it'd be almost nine o'clock when she'd arrive.

~Four Hours Later~

Sakura was drunk. No, she was more than that. The pink-haired woman was absolutely trashed. Ino and Karin challenged her to a drinking contest in which she emerged victorious. Despite that, the three inebriated women were having the time of their lives dancing to the blasting music in the dimly lit building. If a hundred people weren't present, it was somewhere close to that.

Sai was behind Ino, the two flirting shamelessly while Sakura and Karin simply enjoyed one another's company. After the whole sleeping-with-Sasuke incident, the two grew closer.

"Do you have a hair tie?" The green-eyed woman yelled over the music, fanning her face with one hand and pulling her long hair away from her sticky skin with the other.

The redhead responded, "Check the bathroom. Ino probably left some here!"

Sakura nodded, motioning drunkenly that she would go do that so her dance partner would know to wait for her to return. Stumbling a little, she giggled to herself, squeezing past dozens of people in the crowded building's halls and rooms until she found the restroom. A couple was making out, but she was too out of it to care.

Still fanning her sweaty skin, she searched the cabinets in the restroom before finally finding what she was looking for. Grinning, she pulled her hair back into a high ponytail that resembled the one Ino often wore.

Upon stepping out of the bathroom, Sakura caught a glimpse of familiar-looking broad shoulders and white-gray hair. 'What in the world is he doing here?'

It was her intention to sneak up on the man but ended up tripping over her own feet and caught herself by wrapping her arms around the man's middle, her cheek to his back. Snickering, too drunk to take much seriously, Sakura gripped handfuls of his shirt and steadied herself.

When he turned and recognized her, offering an amused laugh, she grinned sheepishly, "Mr. Hatake, I swear I didn't mean to do that."

The teacher turned to face her, the few guys he was talking with wandering away and leaving them alone, "We keep meeting like this."

"Yeah, well, why are you at a student party anyway? Isn't it a little weird, Sir?" Sakura slurred, grabbing onto one of his forearms to steady herself when she lost her balance.

"Sai is my godson, actually. So it's not all that weird for me to keep an eye on things," he paused before leaning a little closer and lowering his voice, "And I thought I asked you to call me Kakashi when we're not at school. It makes me feel weird when you address me so formally."

A few inebriated students rushed by, knocking Sakura into her professor's chest. She turned her neck to glare in their direction, yelling comically, "Watch it, Assholes!" They didn't hear her and continued on their way.

"Sakura," Kakashi suddenly said, making the woman realize how close they were because his voice was close. She took half a step back before he cautiously held her waist, brown eyes warm and dark.

'...Why is he looking at me like that?'

She flinched when he suddenly leaned forward so his mouth was at her ear, "You need to quit getting close to me like this. I'm bound to make a very unprofessional decision if you don't."

A bashful heat met the drunken flush of her pretty skin when he moved back to fix her with that intense stare again. The woman nodded, "Okay. I'll go, then." The alcohol made it hard for her to completely comprehend what he meant, but she at least understood that he wanted her to back off.

So, Sakura stepped away, hazy green eyes studying the older man's serious ones for a few moments before turning and entering the crowded hall that leads back to the main room where Karin was likely waiting for her to meet back up.

'Mr. Hatake's kinda hot. He's way too old for me, though,' she mused, snickering as she weaved and dodged other equally inebriated people.

Somewhere between point A and point B, someone's foot made its way in her path, and she tripped, barely preventing herself from falling embarrassingly in front of all these people. Fumbling upright again, she held her hands out slightly to regain her balance.

A raspy voice, male, came from behind her, "Sorry about that! Are you alright?" Long, calloused fingers grabbed her arm to help stabilize her.

The woman grinned, shaking her head and continuing, "No worries; I'm good! Bye!"

Her arm was released, and she almost immediately ran into Ino and Sai, the former beaming with bright blue eyes, "Saku, Babe, who was that hottie?! Are you an idiot? He was totally into you!"

Curious, Sakura turned to look for the person in question, only to glimpse bright blonde hair on a tall, athletically built man whose back was turned as he spoke with someone nearby, "...no…." Complete and utter horror took over her body.

Without sparing a moment, Sakura shoved past Ino, who yelled, "What the hell?!" and tearfully struggled through the loud, crowded house until she found the exit. She didn't stop there, though.

Too alarmed to even search through the massive pile of winter coats by the door, she ran and ran, the snowflakes and icy winter air stinging her skin. The hair tie fell out at some point, so long hair fell over her shoulders when she finally tripped, scraping up her hands and knees on the concrete sidewalk. Whimpering in fright, the woman frantically looked behind her and scrambled around the corner of the nearby alleyway to press her back to the wall.

'It's him! He's here! How did he find me?' Nausea overwhelmed the woman, and she gagged but wouldn't allow herself to be sick because that meant she'd have to close her eyes for more than a second. 'If I so much as blink, he'll get me. I know he will.'

The sound of footsteps met her ears, and she glanced around the corner to see a tall, shadowed figure approaching from down the road. Her vision was too hazy with the crying and the drunkenness to make out any details, but it was enough to send her into a further panic.

For some reason she couldn't explain, Sakura's mind jumped to Sasuke, and suddenly she could only think, 'He won't let that happen. I have to get to him before it's too late!' Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she stumbled to her feet again, breaking into a jog again while looking behind her every so often, thick tears flooding her cheeks.

"Let me guess, you need a ride?" The Uchiha man's irritated voice never sounded so sweet.

Gasping for breath, Sakura skidded around a corner, barely able to speak in her state, "S-S-Sasuke! Please help me!"

The difference in his tone was jarring, then, "Where are you? What's wrong?"

Sobbing, the woman struggled to get upright again, the distant echo of someone else's steps fueling her terror, "I'm sorry for always being a b-bitch, Sasuke. I-I'll make it up to you, so please come! I won't do it again. Please-" Her breath hitched, cutting off her plea.

"Sakura, tell me where you are."

Shaking her head, she looked around, dizzy and confused, "There's a-a, um, there's a big church down the road with a red roof, but I-I don't know what-!" The poor girl's phone slid from her fingers, and despite her tipsy efforts to catch it, she wasn't fast enough, and the device hit the ground hard, the screen cracking harshly and going black.

"Hey, are you alright? I saw you fall." A male voice called from the other end of the alleyway.

Sakura's spine straightened, and she only needed to see a single glimpse of blonde hair to frantically begin running again, abandoning her broken phone there on the concrete.

'Don't stop! Keep going! He'll kill you, or worse, if you stop running!'

'What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.'

Sasuke's knee bounced anxiously as he steered the car with one hand and continuously tried to get Sakura to answer the phone with his other. It's after one a.m. He doesn't care about that part because he often stays up later than this, but he does care that it sounded like the pink-haired woman was scared for her life. Just before the call dropped, a male voice was in the background, but he hadn't expected it, so he didn't understand what it said.

'That fuckin' idiot! This is why I said she needs to tell me where she's going!'

The Uchiha man's on edge, pissed, and concerned beyond what he considers acceptable. 'She said there was a red-roofed church. I know of only one like that,' he thought, dark eyes glaring ahead at the snowy road. The streets aren't entirely dead despite the winter weather because it's Christmas Eve. That said, not many walked the sidewalks.

Finally, after half an hour of driving over the speed limit, the church came into view. He pulled up to the curb in front of it, slammed the brakes, put the car in park, and rushed inside with one hand on the gun tucked into the back of his jeans.

'Please tell me she was smart enough to come here. Who knows how long it'll take to find her if she's out there running through the alleys.'

Sasuke didn't like how Sakura begged him so desperately. For a woman like her to outright ask for help without hesitation, she must be scared beyond belief. Whatever's going on is serious. That's why he didn't call for her when he went into the dark church.

'Why is this place empty anyway? Don't religious people always flock to places like this on Christmas?'

Upon entering the chapel, he realized why no one was around. It was under construction. A massive hole covered by a tarp with scaffolding and supplies beneath it sat in the center of the ceiling.

Keeping close to the wall, the man verified no one was in the large room before cursing under his breath and turning down a hallway he'd seen near the entrance, "Where the fuck are you, Sakura?"

He opened the men's restroom and gave it a once-over before doing the same to the women's. As he turned, letting the door close, the tiniest sound caught his attention, and his neck turned sharply toward the room again. Slipping inside quietly, he pulled his gun out and held it at his side while keeping his steps silent. Three stall doors were ajar, but the last one wasn't, the one furthest from the entrance.

'I swear to fuckin' God….'

In hindsight, he should've realized that his approach was way too violent, but at the time, all he could picture was some dirtbag holding his woman behind that door with a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. Fueled by the rage the image caused, he kicked the door open, pointing the gun inside with a glare that'd kill if possible.

A pathetically weak cry of fear met his ears, and his anger melted into worry when there, in the very corner of the larger, handicapped stall, sat Sakura. Her knees were to her chest, and her hands were on her head as she trembled and squeezed her eyes closed, trying to turn herself into the smallest ball possible and disappear.

"Sakura! Babe, what happened?"

Sasuke's body moved independently. He tucked the gun away, kneeling beside her and prying her hands from her hair to try and get her to lift her head. The woman fought it, sobbing so hard that she couldn't possibly speak.

His brow furrowed as he gently rested his hands atop hers, looking over her appearance more closely. Her jeans were ripped, and her knees were bleeding, as were her palms. Blood dirtied her fingers and hair.

'When I find out who the fuck did this, they're gonna wish they were never born.'

The man checked outside the stall to ensure they were alone before taking off his coat and laying it atop her shoulders, "Put it on before you get hypothermia." Without waiting for her response, he pulled his phone from his pocket and began dialing Itachi's number, only to freeze when Sakura finally spoke.

"...You actually came."

Looking down at her, his teeth gritted, and he moved to help her stand, only then realizing that she was drunk beyond belief. The woman stumbled forward, throwing her arms around his middle and sobbing into his shirt as she thanked him with barely understandable words.

Sasuke didn't know what to think, feel, or do. He placed a hand on the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her while he figured it out, though.

'Is she actually in danger, or is this just her being paranoid again, like when she thought someone was following her home?' He could understand if it only happened that once, but two times….

'Maybe she really is crazy.'

It may seem as though he's judging her, but he only felt bad that she was so scared all the time, and that's all. If it's true that no one was after her that time or this time, and she's been imagining things, it can only be because of whatever trauma she was dealing with. Whatever made her wake up ready to defend herself from an attacker and stress her into being unable to stomach food was to blame.

'She needs help,' Sasuke thought, frowning as he finally came to his senses and guided her to slip her arms into the coat resting on her shoulders, 'It'll only get worse if she doesn't do something.'

He said calmly, "Let's go home. You're alright."

Sakura nodded, allowing him to interlace their fingers and guide her outside to the still-running car. After ensuring she was safely inside, he got in, as well, and began the drive back to the house.

'Yahiko and the others won't care about any of this. There has to be a way to get her out of there without either of us getting killed.'

"H-He found me," the inebriated woman suddenly whispered. Even roughed up and exhausted, she still looked pretty cute in his coat, which was way too big for her petite frame.

Though he was sure by this point that no one had actually been chasing her, he still asked, "Who found you, Babe?"

Terrified, tearful green eyes glittered in the moonlight as Sakura looked at him, her voice cracking, "My ex."

[student-in-nightraven]

Hello. Hope you are in a good mood now. I wanted you to, shall we say, "pick me a match" from Twisted Wonderland.

Parameters: I am a girl. Height 162 cm a little plump (how else I like to cook "slim, but there is something to grab onto"). I'm just....none when it comes to self-defense because I don't like violence in any of its manifestations. And my parameters in terms of physical fitness are slightly below average.

Character: naive, trusting, pure and innocent (according to my mother ... (it confuses me a little)). I love to take care of others, though it borders on some..... Self-neglect? It's just that sometimes I don't take care of myself (a few times I only ate bread and drank water...... I'm not proud of it. It's terrible). There was a time when I hurt myself because of this, I have scars on my thighs, arms (from the elbow to the wrist) and on the forearms. Fortunately, now it has passed and had little effect on my life (the same optimist and cheerful person .... And the same naive and gullible). Due to my openness and vivid manifestation of the spectrum of feelings and emotions, I was very much exposed to...... Physical and moral violence (my relatives were able to save me .... Well, for the most part). I experience some sleep problems (sometimes insomnia or just don't go to bed until 2-3 am). With all this, I still remain ...... A child (I love soft toys, pink and pastel colors and I am honest with my feelings and emotions). I like to read, draw, dance and sing (although I feel embarrassed when I am "caught red-handed" .... For I can dance and sing in my brother's sweater, shorts and socks). I LOVE SWEET AND TEA! And also bread crusts, especially if the bread is fresh!

I hope this is not too much and thanks if you accepted my request

I am so sorry you went through that, I hope your better now:(

I match you with..

..

... Malleus!

Every night when he'd get the chance he would show up at ramshackle and strike conversations with you, it's how you 2 grew closer;

The more the time went the more you both shared info about yourselves.

He always comforts you when you tell him about your past or something that upset you

He loves you dearly and always makes sure you know it

You 2 are the peaceful couple who love eachother more than Juliet and Romeo

Thank you for the request dear Annon! I hope things get better and may you have a wonderful year<3 sorry this is so short I really need to sleep im very tired

[blackberrydeer]

It has come to my attention that if I want people to give me requests for writing, I should first post my own writings here so

If you want to read them in a more solid form, I have a AO3 account... that, by the way, is pretty much empty right now because I wrote all my histories in a notebook and now I'm too lazy to decipher my own calligraphy to put it on the web.

Anyway, the history

Prompt: different first meeting inside Boston's QZ.

21 days to find you

Chapter 1/?

The day had been relatively good.

Or as good as a apocalyptic world inside a fucking facist Q.Z can be, at the very least. Joel was able to find easy work, a small favor asked from Tess: Lay low for, at least, one week.

He had been reluctant to follow said favor.

Sure, he was healing after being shoot, his ankle still hurt like hell from the small marathon they had done during their last job (which should have been goddamn easy peasy, Tess, you fucking said so) inside a Fedra’s facility, even more considering he had a sprained ankle earlier (from tripping in the damn stairs), but they were low on food, and supplies, and their ammo was no more than some kind of sweet dream at this point.

They weren’t open to take a rest, he had said, in very meaner words, when they started to discuss what to do next.

At least he won part of the argument. Joel was working, still, bad ankle and shoot and all. Unfortunately it was a Fedra’s work, and Tess was only-god-knows-where, doing a trade he’d been planning for months.

Despite the cold making his teeth chatter as an nonstop background sound, and despite the worries of not knowing where Tess was, (of course Joel trusted her, but she had been gone for two days, the 3° already ending) it was a good day, Joel thought to himself, bending in half to pick up more debris. The Fireflies had just bombarded a dozen Fedra’s supply deposits, what matched perfectly with the “Go fuck off to at least one easy job, Texas, you’re limping like a damn newborn” request.

Despite the cold, making all of his joints creak like boiling oil, it was a good day, he thought, carrying a piece of broken window, using his non-shoot shoulder to carry the heavier stuff.

Despite the cold, the day would have been good. Unfortunately Joel lived inside a goddamn apocalyptic world, and that world deemed acceptable to leave kids rotting in the rain, and despite everything, his only thought at the moment was a simple, instinctive:

She’s gonna catch a cold

Most of the people in the area had retreated at that point, scared away by the heavy rain, looking for refuge in their shit homes. Of course, the best decision he could make would be doing the same, but the prospect of doing absolutely nothing except stare at the walls of his shitty home was simply asking the universe to make his head think, and thinking was synonym for remembering, and he was not in the mood to do that.

His pills were all but used, no escape to sweet no-dreams sleep, so he stayed to finish the rest of the work. They were low on supplies, he’d be paid twice if he worked double.

The prospect of working till his body was ready to give out was a very attractive one.

Point is, Joel wasn’t alone, and while that was generally for the better in most cases, right now he was the only witness to the kid collecting pieces of what used to be a door, despite the heavy rain and despite every piece of wood being half of her size (what, honestly, wasn’t a very difficult size to reach, scrawny and small as she was). Young enough to have kid fatness (not that she had a lot of that, he concluded, going by what he saw in his side glances).

Joel also concluded that he should have went right back home after the first drops of rain, memories be damned. Now he was soaking wet, cold, tired, and remembering a small girl in the rain, running and playing and carrying all the light of the universe plus his heart in her eyes, not like the one currently carrying fucking debris with stick-like arms.

She’s gonna catch a cold, his currently not working mind repeated, and he took that as his clue to get out and lie in his bed until sleep came from sheer force of will.

He’d done his part of the work, anyway, certainly enough to get the damned ration card.

Despite the cold, making his lungs burn with the effort of breathing, it would have been a good day, if Joel had dragged his sore ass right back to his shitty home, and not to the kid carrying debris and the certainty of a fucking cold.

“Ki-“ like a deer caught in the headlights, she bolted, quicker than the blink of an eye, and the day would have been good if her memory had left with her.

Now he was alone, soaked wet, cold, tired, and doing nothing in the jobsite, and remembering fucking memories.

Without giving the universe another thought, he left.

[levi-my-beloved]

Hello!! I’d like to request a Levi x Fem!reader where the reader is really strong (emotionally) and happy always but no one knows that she’s had a hard past and a family that hates her. She’s close to Levi, but one day,he says something angrily/ rude to her that reminded her of her parents. fluff ensues~~ (p.s don’t hold back on the angst I’m in the mood to get hurt)

Old Wounds

Pairing: Canon!Levi x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: None? I don’t think?

A/N: y’all are really feeding into my angst complex now and i’m so here for it. thank you for the request lovely anon, i hope this is what you had in mind ^-^

Strength comes in so many different shapes and sizes, it’s often difficult to tell where weaknesses lie. For you, it was a case of brave face. So mentally fortified, many thought you to be unbreakable. Even here, now, crouching next to one of your subordinates, a member of your squad, you demonstrated your strength.

“I know, I know. But life keeps moving, and you have to keep moving as well. For them.” you’d lost a few good soldiers today, none from your squad thanks to your dangerous actions, but the poor girl sobbing her eyes out before you had stuttered about losing her brother today. He was a part of the left wing squad, which had been all but wiped out in an abnormal attack. Your heart broke for the girl. She was a good soldier, incredibly gifted with her mind, and had more than once helped you out of a sticky situation. It just proved that even those with incredible intellectual strength could have their minds clouded by emotion. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, but it did anyway.

A new wave of sorrow overtook the soldier, and she collapsed forwards into your arms, inconsolable cries causing her body to shudder in your embrace, your shirt slowly dampening from her tears. How long either of you had been there, neither had kept track, but you weren’t moving until she’d stopped crying, however long that may take. A few other members of your squad stayed with you, the bonds in your squad being one of the strongest in the entire Survey Corps. And it was only when the soldier had fallen silent asleep did any of you move.

“Thanks you lot, I’ll take her back to her room. I’m sure she’d rather sleep in her bed than my lap,” you sighed gently, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face as she slept surprisingly well for someone who had just lost her only living relative.

“Not sure Captain Levi would agree with you there,” though the atmosphere was grim, you managed a tired, half glaring smile to your squad, glad they were still able to make those kinds of jokes. You’d trained them well, since they were cadets. They’d been under your wing since day one, it was nice to know they considered your relationship informal enough to make such jokes about the nature of your incredibly friendly relationship with the stoic captain.

“Funny, you lot. Very funny.”

“Hilarious, in fact, that you would think her scrawny ass is comfortable enough.”

The fear of god entered your squad’s eyes, faces draining to ash as his voice cut through the small congregation that had formed around you and the tired soldier. A small smile pulled at your lips, your head bowed down to hide it from your squad as those familiar footsteps came ever closer, until you could feel his presence behind you.

“That’s enough for today. I’ll take Viktoria back to her room. I’ll see the rest of you tomorrow, training midday, got it?” there was a chorus of agreements and a bustle of nods, before they all promptly made their excuses and left. You couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at their sudden urgency to be somewhere else, before gathering the exhausted soldier in your arms, lifting her as you stood.

Levi raised a brow, glancing between you and your passed out subordinate. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wave him off but finding it difficult with your hands full of sleeping cadet.

“She lost her brother in the expedition today. I’m just taking her back to her quarters before heading off.” you explained, already walking passed him down the corridor to the barracks. Levi followed along behind you, arms folded as he walked. It wasn’t really a defensive thing he did, nor was it something he did when he was annoyed. It was just more comfortable than having his arms anywhere else. Honestly, he was glad you knew that, because having to explain every time Hange called him off-putting was exhausting.

“Don’t suppose you’d want some tea before heading to bed, would you?” the offer was almost inaudible, and you had to look at him over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t messing with you. And the way he avoided eye contact, finding the ground a thousand times more interesting than your prying eyes, was proof enough. But of course, you couldn’t help but mess with him. Stopping at the small intersection between corridors, you looked back at him, glancing down the hallway to the superior’s corridor, where your quarters also resided.

“Are you asking me on a midnight date, Captain?” you teased lightly, delighting in the way his eyes shot back to yours, terror written all over his face. Damn, you didn’t think he’d find the idea that disgusting. “Relax, I’m kidding. Sure, I’d love to. Let me get Viktoria to bed and I'll be right with you.” you gestured down the cadet corridor, before Levi sent a nod your way and disappeared back to his own quarters. You smiled a little sadly to yourself. You always hoped one day your feelings towards him would be reciprocated, and yet time and time again are you disappointed. Not that you should be surprised at this point, he’d subtly rejected you too many times now, so really you should be used to it. And yet it still hurts every single time.

You gently placed Viktoria beneath the covers of her bed, removing her jacket, boots and ODM gear straps until she looked like she could sleep fairly comfortably. As a captain, it was your job to look after those who took orders from you, on and off the battlefield. A job you took extremely seriously. Bringing the bed clothes up to tuck her in, you smiled gently down at the unconscious girl. The next couple of days were going to be hell for her, you knew that. But you also knew she had the rest of her squad to support her, and she had you.

Gently closing the door behind you, so as not to disturb her, your next port of call was your own chambers. Just to remove your own jacket and gear straps, not really liking the idea of having to sit through what should be a fun, relaxing experience whilst shifting awkwardly in those tight restraints. You were glad your office quarters were nearer than Levi’s, meaning you could easily stop prior to heading a little further down the hall. Although your heart ceased immediately upon entering. Your blood ran cold at the mere sight of what waited for you on your desk.

A letter. But you recognised that seal. Recognised that slanted, borderline illegible handwriting. Your mother had written to you.

How thoughtful.

You briefly debated whether it was worth ruining your evening over, but you knew if you didn’t open it now, you wouldn’t enjoy your evening anyway. With a deep sigh, you crossed your office, sitting down in your chair simply staring at the envelope with that stupid fucking wax seal, steeling your nerves enough to open it.

Finally deciding to rip off the bandage, you grabbed your ornate letter opener from your desk drawer, and sliced through the sealing wax, almost stabbing the blade into the wood out of preemptive anger. You hated your parents almost as much as they hated you. The emotional abuse, the subtle and not so subtle jabs at everything you do and have done with your life, the snide comments and sharp remarks. God they pissed you off, because they knew every single weakness, and knew exactly how to exploit them. Not only that, but you had been stupid enough to one day confide in your sister, telling her about your feelings for Captain Levi over a couple bottles of wine. Of course the first thing she did was arm your parents with more ammunition with which to harm you in each letter they sent.

This time was no different.

Daughter.

(She couldn’t even be bothered to put your name, for fuck sakes.)

Your father is sick. Very sick. And he requests your presence by his side. For what reason, I’m afraid not even I can fathom. However it is what he asked of me, and therefore it’s what I must make happen.

If you can take five minutes away from your oh-so-important fight for humanity, your own dying father would like to see you. If you can’t even be bothered to do that, then don’t return at all. I’m sure your sister will be extremely happy with the sum of money she will inherit when I inevitably pass away, since you’re too busy playing tin soldiers. It would be nice to see you care for once, but I doubt you’re capable of doing even that.

I read about you in the paper the other day. You and that impressive little captain of yours. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, no? It’s a shame you yourself could never amount to much, although I doubt you could take the pressure of such a title. Send him our regards, would you? It would be a pleasure to discuss your future with him at the next Winter Ball, since you could at least do us the courtesy of marrying well and supporting your family. I have to say, I would pity the poor man if he did end up being stupid enough to put a ring on your finger, but I'd like to think he has a little more sense than that.

(That stung harder than you would like to admit)

I’m wondering when you were going to tell us of your promotion, which was surprising to hear down the grape vine, considering how useless and clumsy you are. Or the most recent failed expedition? However, I can’t imagine that would be groundbreaking news, I often wonder if there really is anything other than hot air in Commander Smith’s head. You really are a brainless sheep following a brainless shepherd aren’t you? You and that whole regiment.

But, I digress, I would have thought you’d at least take some time out to write back to your own father. As for that promotion, who did you have to sleep with to get that? The Commander himself? Or that little captain? I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d have it in you. But you always were a manipulative little snake, weren’t you? Twisting your poor father until he broke.

If you can take time out of your schedule to see him, do. If not, don’t bother coming home again.

Your’s,

Mother.

You stayed there for a moment, unable to quite believe what you were reading, until two perfect circles dotted the parchment, but you were too caught up in your own incredulous rage to realise you were crying. It took you a second to angrily wipe away your fury from your face, crumpling the letter up in a balled fist, your knuckles turning white before throwing it into your bottom drawer, watching it bounce before falling to the top of a scrunched paper pile.

Your initial decision was right, it seems. This was going to ruin your evening. Your elbows rested on the desk, hands forming a net for your forehead to settle in whilst you attempted to calm yourself. You regulated your breathing, bringing it down from the shortened, shallower breaths to inhale more deeply, automatically soothing your raging emotions. You were not about to let this get to you. You’d received countless letters like this, each one thrown in your drawer, not even deeming them worthy of a response.

She made you feel like shit. She always made you feel like shit. Guilty when you went to see them, guilty when you didn’t go to see them. But now your father was on death’s door. Not that you cared much, you just wished you could be the one that drained the life from his eyes. He didn’t deserve to go quietly, painlessly. Not after everything he did to you.

Taking a deep breath, you stood from your desk, pinching your brow briefly, before once again shaking your head and leaving your office. Maybe tea with Levi was a good idea. Or, alternatively, it could be the worst idea either of you have ever had. This was what was playing in your brain as you approached his door, knocking three times before waiting for an answer that never came.

Confusion scrunched your nose, knocking another three times and waiting again for an answer that never came. Had you heard him wrong? Did he not ask you to meet him? Did he mean another time? Raising your fist to the door for a third time, the wood shook with the force of your knuckles, your foot tapping impatiently as you once again waited for some sign of life. You didn’t have time for this, you could be in your office working on paperwork. Just as you were about to turn and give up, the very man you were looking for spoke up from behind you.

“Maybe if you knock again he’ll answer. He’s a very busy man, you know, he might’ve been out.” you sighed a chuckle, almost instantly relaxing upon hearing his voice.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have to knock four times. I’m a busy woman and yet you’ll find me answering my door before the third.” you turned to see him leaning against the wall, hands concealed in his pockets, looking at you with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You mirrored his stance, glancing to the door. “We gonna stand here all night?” you asked, but Levi’s gaze seemed to be stuck on you, unmoving. You shifted a little awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do. “Levi?”

“What happened?” you blinked, unsure as to what he meant. What happened? What happened where? When? You’d lead quite a long life, he’d have to be a little more specific. And as if he could read your mind; “Your mood has shifted. What happened?”

You folded your arms a little defensively. How the fuck did he know?

“So you’re psychoanalysing me now? Just open the damn door.” You rolled your eyes, trying to replace whatever aura or mood or tone he’d just sensed with something a little more laid back.

Levi’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he obliged all the same, his eyes never leaving your face until they literally had to. It was only until you were in his office, could you relax for a bit.

Something was off with you. He hadn’t seen it before when you were holding that cadet, but something had changed since then and now. Levi had always kept the temperature of his office and quarters warm, it was something he preferred being rather cold-blooded, but he noticed your shoulders visibly relax and thanked his previous self for kicking the pipes earlier. The heating in the Scout HQ wasn’t exactly flawless, but it was good enough on the colder winter nights.

He rounded his desk, gesturing for you to take a seat on the sofa as he poured two cups of tea, occasionally glancing back at you. Though you seemed to have relaxed a bit, he could see that familiar tensing in your jaw and the way you scrutinised whatever you were staring at straight ahead of you. He’d only ever seen you like this a few times, and he never managed to get any answers out of you before you went straight back to being your happy, calm self. It was something that drew him to you, not that he’d ever admit it. He couldn’t pinpoint what he felt whenever he was around you, but it was akin to being back with Isabel and Farlan, when their lives weren’t collectively going to shit. You felt somewhat homely, to him.

You were snapped out of whatever trance you’d found yourself in when he placed your tea in front of you, your eyes flicking up to his face in thanks before you took the cup in both your palms, leaning back against the sofa, your ankle crossed over your knee.

“You should have let me do it, today was pretty shit for you,” you swirled the liquid in the teacup as Levi took a seat next to you, quirking a brow in your direction.

“You’re useless at brewing tea,” he muttered bluntly into his drink, glancing at you as you smiled without any actual humour.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” you chuckled emptily, taking a small sip of your drink before putting the teacup down completely. Levi sighed, running a hand through his ebony locks.

“What was up with you today?” he asked, not really knowing how to breach the subject of today’s expedition.

“What do you mean?” you were immediately on the defensive once again.

“Want me to be blunt?”

“Oh you ask now?” okay now you were starting to piss him off.

“Tch, you were sloppy with your kills, you were careless in your movements, half the time it didn’t even look like you were thinking. You were acting like a green-ass cadet.” you let all the shots land, each one of the deepening an insecurity of yours. You’d worked so fucking hard to get to where you are now, and hearing that it was pretty much all for nul and that you were still the same bumbling kid you always were. You wanted to say you were sorry, but you didn’t really get the chance. You were used to this. This was just Levi. He was harsh, he was blunt, this was just him being–

“You were just fucking clumsy out there, throwing your life away at every goddamn opportunity. I understand your squad’s important to you but…”

Levi continued, but you had frozen completely. The fingers that were picking at your dry lips stopped, a faint crimson dusting the tips as his words sunk in. You hadn’t heard anything past those crucial words he’d just spat as if they meant nothing. You stayed staring ahead, unblinking due to the tears lining your lashes, spilling over and down your cheeks. You hadn’t changed. You were still as useless as ever. You never think, like he said. You were still worthless. Why the fuck they gave you a promotion, you’d never know. Maybe you should head to Erwin’s office tomorrow, tell him to demote you back down. You weren’t fit to be a captain, you weren’t fit to be a leader. Were you even fit to be a soldier? Maybe packing everything together and just leaving would be best. Head back home, take care of your sick father, be who your family wants you to be.

Levi noticed you weren’t quipping back like you usually would. It was often the two of you would exchange insults when coming back from an expedition. It took both your minds off the horrors you’d just witnessed, but when he finally turned to you, eyes pinpointing the diamonds on your face, he stopped completely.

He’d made you cry. He’d never seen you cry. He’d never seen you sad, or beaten, or broken. You were one of the strongest people he knew. The real Humanity’s Strongest. And you were crying.

“Hey… you o–”

“I’m sorry,” your fractured whisper sent shards of guilt slashing at his heart. A tear hung on the cliff of your lip, teetering on the edge before sliding into the crevice of your closed mouth, trailing down your chin and onto your folded hands in your lap, another joining soon after. He couldn’t escape the light dancing within the droplets, the little rainbows reflected within. You stayed silent for a moment, Levi not wanting to prompt you before you were ready to talk. Only the slight crackle of candle flame filled the void-like silence before you spoke again. “I’m sorry I’m not good enough. I’m sorry I never was.” you sounded so matter-of-fact. Like this had been drilled into you. Like this was irreversible damage, almost as if…

You’d never spoken about your family, or at least Levi had never heard you speak about your parents openly. “I’ll talk to Erwin tomorrow, get him to demote me and then I’ll hand in my papers. Head back to my family… if they’ll take me,” you looked as if you were talking to yourself, running through your plans in your head with only Levi to witness. It was as if he was now caught in a trance of his own, a spiralling nightmare of your own self-hatred. That he had fueled with his reckless words.

You stood as if you’d just been struck by lightning, your hands gently brushing your cheek, still staring straight ahead before you slowly shifted your gaze back to his.

Levi searched your face, shocked heartbreak creasing his brow. Not necessarily heartbreak over you, but rather heartbreak for you.

You shook your head in disbelief that you’d just said that, out loud, in front of him. All and any words lodged in your throat, you took a step back, before internally deciding it would just be best if you left. Wiping your face with the heels of your palms, you attempted to conceal your face as you went for the door, sweeping past him. And if Levi had been any slower with his reflexes, he would have missed you.

You were stopped by a tight grip on your wrist, a harsh yank pulling you back into the room. Before you really knew what was happening, two arms wrapped around you, securing your body against Levi’s chest.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” you’d never heard him sound so desperate, so quietly longing as he held you in, one hand braced on the back of your head, the other making a home in the dip of your spine. “Don’t go.” Your eyes widened, unshed tears finally carving their way down the trails already made on your face. A strange comfort soothed your veins as you relaxed in his embrace, everything proving too much for your mental walls to handle as they came crashing down. A stifled sob left your throat, Levi’s arms only tightening as he placed his chin atop your head protectively. Every shudder impaled his heart, the way your fists gripped his shirt. Every cracked “I’m sorry.” tore his resolve to shreds until he didn’t think he could hold you any tighter. He didn’t think he could love you any deeper. Smoothing down the back of your head, he didn’t interrupt you. You clearly needed this, and had been needing it for a while. Levi wasn’t stupid. He knew when someone was hurting, he just didn’t know quite how much.

When you’d quietened slightly, and your sobs had ceased, he gently pulled you from his chest, hating how you refused to look him in the eyes when he tilted your head up. Your jaw clenched, as if angry with yourself for losing your grip.

“Levi I’m s–”

“Who said these things to you?” there was no malice in his voice. No hatred, no anger. It wasn’t a question intending to get himself riled up. There was just soft understanding. He knew who’d said these things to you, he just wanted confirmation. Something you weren’t about to talk about because it wasn’t important.

“Nobody, I just let my emotions get the better of me, that’s all. I’m sorry I ruined this…” you went to pull away, eyes fixed anywhere but his face as you turned your head, only to be caught by his fingers on your chin, his tender touch turning you back, preventing you from hiding this any longer.

“Stop. Stop thinking that you have to carry everything alone,” his hand flattened against the side of your neck, his thumb tracing soothing circles under your jaw.

“I don’t want to be any kind of burden, to anyone, and especially not to you,”

“Who said you were a burden?” you stopped again, Levi noticing you gave the same reaction, trying to pull away and forget the entire conversation. But he was so close. He was so close to helping you, to sharing your pain you’d clearly hidden for far too long. And there was no way he was going to give up now. “Who said these things to you?” he asked again, this time earning a different response.

Your eyes returned to his, your mouth forming a thin line as you thought carefully about your answer.

“My mother, mostly. My father, sometimes. My sister, occasionally,” you sucked in a breath. Whatever he made of it, the truth was out. You’d never told anybody this. You couldn’t. You were regarded as a beacon of strength to the Survey Corps, both mentally and physically. If anybody saw you crack, that reputation would be destroyed, and you liked how people felt as if they could come to you with their problems. It made you feel less… well, useless.

Levi’s brows pinched, his wandering fingers tracing delicate lines along the bone structure of your face, caressing your cheekbone, following the line of your jaw, his thumb slowly swiping across your lips. It was only then did you lean into his touch a fraction, almost indistinguishably to anybody other than Levi, who had been paying such close attention to you everything else around drained away. Without thinking, Levi pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before tilting your head up once again to look you in the eye, icy steel flicking between your irises.

“You’re not what they say you are. You never have been. You have the skills of a soldier, a fucking great one at that,” you looked away, not really sure what to make of the praise since he was telling you how terrible you were not moments ago.

“Even if my kills are sloppy and my movements are careless and I’m clumsy and I’ve got nothing but air in my head because I don’t think and–”

“You throw your life away at any given moment, yes I know what I said.” Levi hummed, interrupting your self deprecating barrage of insults. “I said those things because I saw what you did today and it scared me. I saw your almost sacrifice and it terrified me because I realised I might not see you as just a peer. But you’re none of those things, you never were. And you are not a burden. You don’t have to shoulder this alone. They’re idiots for not seeing your value, and I’m an idiot for not seeing you before now. I’m sorry I left you alone with this for so long, but I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere,” the sincerity in his eyes had you choked up, disbelieving realisation cleansing your mind, fresh hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Tears that were promptly brushed away by Levi’s knuckles. You nodded, letting him know you had both acknowledged and believed what he’d said before you actually voiced what you were thinking.

“Don’t see me as just a peer, huh?” you smiled a little tearily, though your cheeky mischief shone through your sparkling eyes. It was a look he’d missed so dearly as he rolled his eyes, pretending to regret his loosened tongue, though the slight pull at his lips told you otherwise.

“Would I be holding you like this if I didn’t?” his retort had you blushing madly, as if just realising how close you were to him. And as impossible as it seemed to him, Levi realised he’d just fallen further in love with you. His hand gently cupping the side of your cheek to stop your head from trying to look anywhere else other than him. He wasn’t about to let you go.

“To me, you are everything.”

Your eyes widened again, searching his face for any kind of deceit, but found nothing. Your search was cut short, however, by his lips softly brushing against your’s in an almost-kiss. You could taste the tea and peppermint on his breath, smell the aftershave he used on his skin, see the gentle adoration in his tender gaze before his eyes closed and you met him halfway. Although you were anticipating it, you couldn’t help but gasp slightly as you sealed the gap, your arms instantly snaking around his neck as he kissed you, and you kissed him back.

Levi didn’t go unaffected. He couldn’t be close enough to you, his body craving more of your embrace as one arm circled around your waist, his other hand glued to the side of your neck, alternating between simply resting there and caressing the side of your cheek. Though his movements were slow, languid, his heart was beating faster than he ever thought possible.

Your eyes stayed fluttering close for a second as you separated, before you opened them to Levi’s quiet smile, the back of his hand gently dragging down the side of your face, from your hairline to your jawbone. You turned your head to press a kiss to his slightly scarred knuckles, earning yourself another brush of his thumb over your bottom lip.

Guiding you once again into his chest, you allowed his affection to chase away any childhood demons still lingering in your mind. You knew the path ahead was a long one, having so many repressed insecurities was bound to have taken a toll on your underlying mental health, but that path didn’t seem so lonely with someone to share the journey with.

“Thank you, Levi,” you muttered against his neck, holding him as close to you as you could.

“To me, you are more than enough.” he whispered back, vowing to keep you there in his embrace until he was sure you believed him, no matter how long it took.

[katsidhe]

Top 5 Sam flinches.

7) 12.03. Mary hugs Sam and tells her sons she’s leaving. Sam watches her all the way up to the door, but he still flinches resoundingly when it shuts.

6) 12.09. Sam, alone in his cell, as the metal door slams shut on his isolation: iconic. Wonderful. Season 12 gets rights for this, for the horrible nervous tension that Sam carries in confinement. (it occurs to me that I could probably do a top five Door Flinches tbh.)

5) 13.21. AAAAAAH. The only reason I’m ranking this so low is because it doesn’t have a ton of psychological subtlety, especially not compared to the lovely scene that follows, which is relatively flinch-free (Sam is twitchy around Lucifer, as usual, but there aren’t big flinches that stand out). But its purpose isn’t subtlety: it’s a jumpscare, and a fantastic one. It’s made all the better for how intentional Lucifer was with it: the flashlight, the waiting in the dark. And Sam and I both got fucking terrified. 13.21 My Beloved. 

4) 14.18. Dean smashes an entire wooden chair. This has been a quietly building scene--both Sam and Cas have been trying to placate Dean. Then Rowena reveals Mary is gone for good, and I love how deliberate the focus is here on the violence of Deans wrath and grief. There is real fear in Sam’s eyes. It’s not of Dean directly, per se--not that Dean will hit him with a chair, but it is of Dean’s mood, of what violence he will channel his devastation into. Of what shape this newest pain will be. He’s right to be afraid, because that anger will be directed at Jack.

3) 13.18. Another Dean flinch, but this one is anger specifically at Sam. Sam’s just explained that there’s no archangel grace left for another portal, that he used it all to heal Gabriel. He could barely get the words out through the horrible silence--there’s no music, nothing to blunt the tension of Dean’s anger. Dean’s outburst and Sam’s flinch, when they come, are abrupt and deafening. Notice how here, Sam ducks his head down and looks away, how he’s trying to deflect, how he’s trying to breathe deep and not react.

2) 15.20. it’s the Toaster Flinch (tm) of myth and legend. Sam and isolation: the loneliness of him and his toaster and the way every tendon in his neck spasms when it goes off. He’s the only living person for miles and miles, he’s mired in his mind, and he can’t help these nervous, visceral physical reactions. The space here is what gets me: it’s framed so deliberately even though there isn’t a specific narrative reason for Sam to react to a toaster, not like Lucifer or Dean or a threat--just the piled on years and years of reasons, of grief and trauma and his vicious and inescapable hypersensitivity. 

1) 7.01-7.02 are SO FULL of Sam flinches that I couldn’t choose only one. There’s one every few minutes. The mark of an S-tier episode. Actually, Season 7 in general is a treasure trove, and I wanted to add ones from 7.15 and 7.17, but I’m trying to restrain myself at least a little bit here.

I love the way that, fresh out of a hallucination, he reacts to Dean not by pushing or hitting him, but quickly pulling back, hovering one hand over Dean’s arm and pushing his other against the wall for support. Like he’s wary of resisting or fighting even before he’s realized it’s Dean.

This one is just. Really really nice. Similar thing, where he pulls away and quickly stops. He’s hearing Lucifer’s voice and Dean’s.

UGH THIS ONE THOUGH. It’s my favorite. It’s so violent but understated. The way Sam’s eyes flick automatically to his hands, and then the way his face settles into something both hurt and reproachful, how his mouth tightens into this very nearly chastising little line. The way that it’s an intentional and obvious trick, it’s a form of mockery that Sam is very very used to but still can’t help but react to. It’s clearly a sick shared joke. The mutual understanding unspoken here, the history, drives me absolutely bonkers. It’s imprinted on the back of my eyelids.

[luveline]

a special friend, part two [Fred Weasley, George Weasley x reader]

tags: reader-insert, platonic relationships, friendship, can be read as romantic for either or both, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, implied/referenced self-harm, dissociation, quiet reader, shy reader, sad reader

relationships: fred weasley x reader, george weasley x reader

wordcount: 3.2k

read part one here

The common room was always so clean. The house-elves must work themselves half to death with effort, as you never saw a hair or speck of dust where there ought not to be one. The small refreshment table filled and refilled through every new day and the fireplace was always roaring on cold winter nights. It was especially cold that evening, and so the members of Gryffindor house benefited from a crackling fire and hot chocolate coming out of the ears.

You basked in the warmth of the flame, sitting cross-legged before it. A cup of hot chocolate cooled in between your hands, which were both laden with bandaids and germolene. Fred and George’s orders, of course. You were not to scratch, bite or mess in any detrimental way with your hands, arms or skin. If you did, you were to report to them for immediate bandaging.

At first, they’d simply been spelling each wound away. This had an opposite effect, as the freshly healed skin was perfect for picking whenever your mood turned - which was often. You found yourself blinded and basked in the light of being cared for by others, and although you may have preferred complete autonomy over your own body, you couldn’t say you minded the attentiveness of the twins. They’d made it their personal mission to prevent any self-harm, accidental or purposeful. You weren’t sure you even knew the difference half the time.

A quiet had settled over the room. It seemed as though each red and gold student was content to breathe in the smell of chestnut and pine in peaceful, companionable silence. You found yourself smiling kindly at each person who looked your way. You couldn’t imagine having done that before you had become acquainted with the twins.

Acquainted was a word you used to protect yourself. Friendly was too confident, too firm. You sometimes dreamt of horror stories where you, confident and comfortable, admitted how much you cared for them. In these dreams, they laughed in your face. Poked fun at your hope.

Of course, Fred and George weren’t cruel. If they felt that way, they certainly wouldn’t rub it in your face or make you feel embarrassed about it. But some shame never went away, and you carried it like an ever-burning torch.

Despite the pleasant warmth of the room, chills racked your spine at the thought. You pushed it from your head, attempting to think of anything else. You traced a pattern through the braided strands of the rug you were lazing upon, first the flames of a bonfire towering ten feet tall, then a mirror of the powdered sugar landscape outside.

Two warm bodies settled in the carpet on either side of you. A long arm wrapped around your shoulders confidently. The floral scent of your perfume mingled with the strong scent of burning caramel and something woody, the signature fragrance of the Weasley twins.

George moved first, plonking a stuffed toy into your lap. He positioned the neck carefully so that the teddy bear was sat as comfortable as you were.

“For you,” said Fred.

“An early Christmas gift,” George added.

The bear was spotted unusually like some sort of hybrid creature. You wondered where they could possibly have acquired such an artefact.

“We saw him and thought of you,” they said together.

That was rich. And maybe correct. After all, it was a weird looking plushie and you weren’t exactly renowned for your normality. You didn’t say much, simply handing off your cold drink to George without so much as a sideways glance and brought the bear to your face. You grazed your nose against its brown stomach and inhaled, breathing in its clean scent.

Both twins were used to the general quietness that came with your presence and didn’t pressure any response. You knew you should’ve said thank you, or even smiled gratefully, but you just couldn’t make your mouth move the way you wanted. You placed your hand on each brothers leg and applied the barest amount of pressure, hoping it showed gratitude.

“Well, I’m starving.”

“I’m so glad you said so, my brother.”

“Yes, I’m craving something savory, Gred.”

“Something juicy, Forge.”

“Such as?”

You looked between them like a muggle attending a tennis match, back and forth and back and forth. They ran circles around you for their own enjoyment, you assumed, but maybe also to make you feel more included.

“Y/N, fancy a trek to the kitchens?”

Before you could say no, or yes, or make up your mind and decide what it was you wanted to do, your stomach growled. Fred grinned wickedly.

They ushered you out of the portrait hole and down the stairs without preamble, flanking your sides like bodyguards. You didn’t mind, taking time to smile at the castle ghosts and portraits as you went.

The twins shot each other looks when they thought you couldn’t see. One said, how do you think she is? Another said, I think she’s however you think she is. Both said, she seems okay today.

It would feel a little patronizing if it weren’t so foreign - to have people care about your well-being so deeply they made changes to their day to see you and went out of their way to make you feel good; you’d find it condescending if it wasn’t so delightful.

That is to say, you felt conflicted. Happy that somebody cared, ashamed that they also felt concerned. They worried over everything these days, what you ate and what classes you had and oh, ghostie, do you need help with that? Y/N, sweetheart, let me carry that for you, lest your arms grow too tired.

It was… nice. It was nice, even if it was painful. Sometimes, it reminded you why you didn’t allow yourself the pleasure of friendship in the first place.

You hummed to yourself. Making sound had become a little easier. You weren’t inclined to say a whole lot, but allowing yourself to be louder, to take up space, had come easier the longer you spent with them. Neither Fred nor George minded if you huffed after too many stairs or if you clicked gobstones together at the foot of their beds.

The song was one of those cheesy Christmas numbers you’d heard on the radio. It was warm and comforting, bringing tears to your eyes if you thought about it too much. George slipped into song with you easily, humming much more loudly and obnoxiously. Fred just grinned to himself, keeping dutiful watch of the corridors.

You bubbled like a shaken can of coke by the time you arrived at the painting that enclosed the kitchen doorway, feeling too happy for your own good. Despite feeling very hungry, not a lick of fatigue or unhappiness tinged your mood, though the fuzzy numbness of every day threatened your well-being if you stopped to think too long.

The door swung open obediently after your half-hearted tickle insisted upon by the boys.

“What do you feel like, Y/N, sweet or savoury? There’s bound to be something you’ll fancy,” George said.

You held in a grimace. There were lots of things you wanted to try, the kitchens smelled like so many amazing things. The cloying smells of jam and treacle and custard, the hearty scents of gravy and roast dinner. It was too bad, then, that most everything you ate tasted stale. For years, your tastebuds had been slacking. During your worst days, food held no taste at all, resulting in your decreased appetite.

A tingling began in your fingers. You didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, how to convey that you didn’t really feel up to anything at all. You knew they would protest as they always did when you didn’t eat.

“Bread,” you managed. Bread was a safe choice. Dense enough to feel filling, easy to keep down, and bland to begin with.

Both boys were frowning but trying not to at your choice.

George moved forward, catching the attention of a harrowed looking house elf. They conversed with familiarity and soon you were being beckoned to a table that was relatively clear. Within minutes you were surrounded by bread, crusty rolls and sliced sourdough.

George casually nudged a bowl of tomato soup in your direction.

The surface shined with grease. It even had a swirl of cream and a sprig of basil afloat.

He looked at you, eyes pleading.

“You too,” you said.

This appeased him. The boys sat across from you with their own bowls, eating in the horrific way that teenage boys do. By the time they’d finished, you’d managed half of your own meal and two slices of bread. The nausea you experienced from just existing was starting to build, accompanied by the disappointment of your bland meal. You’d hoped an improved mood would help your appetite, but you still felt unsatisfied.

The boys grabbed a passing plate of tarts and ice cream.

Your good mood was wearing thin. You bit down on the tip of your thumb and stared at the grain of the table.

You bit down harder.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t do that,” Fred said, reaching forward as if to grab your hand. You pushed it under the table.

George pushed the plate of confectionary closer to you. “Chew on one of these instead, hm?”

You took it all back - this was patronising. Lovely and thoughtful and very, excruciatingly patronising.

You didn’t want to say no, or push it away, or eat anything else or even laugh it off. You wanted to do nothing. You lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes. You caught a murmur or two between them, though you couldn’t make out the words with your ear pressed so hard against the wood and the other covered by your falling hair. The table was smooth and cool under your skin.

A chair scraped against the floor. Footsteps. A broad hand against your back.

“You’re like a steam train running out of coal sometimes.”

You knew he was hoping for a response, a joke, a sign you’d been cheered up.

Through slow blinks, you could make out his face. Endlessly amused and a little sad, framed by the candlelight. He was beautiful, you thought absently. They were both beautiful.

“You okay?” he said quietly.

“Mm,”

“Mm? Is mm a yes or a no?”

“Mm,”

“Alright,” he said, rubbing a soothing path up between your shoulder blades and down again. It would’ve been dizzying if you could think straight, it made the numbness a little woozy. You preened beneath his touch like a pleased cat, feeling the unhappiness melt just a little.

It was crazy how affection could make you feel better, even if it didn’t always solve the problem.

Embarrassed, you mumbled, “you’re going to kill me.”

Fred smiled. “How so?”

“You’re fattening me up like a lamb to slaughter.”

He didn’t quite laugh, huffing through his nose. He really was very handsome up close. His hair was curling at just below his ears, a lush auburn colour that complemented his pale, freckle adorned skin. His eyes were a heart-melting brown so that his pupils were lost. The look he gave you was searing like he knew exactly what you were thinking about him. Your ears were tinged with heat, cheeks filling with colour.

He retracted his hand.

“Wrap some of those up, Georgie. Ghostie needs her bed.”

“It shall be done, brother mine!”

You smiled despite yourself.

-

For your birthday, the twins had gifted you a simple necklace. The chain was silver, reaching to just below your collar bone. It had no charm or jewel. It was perfect.

It helped you sometimes when you felt out of it to run it between two fingers or tug it gently from left to right, feeling the chain links rolling behind your neck.

You’d tried that, among every other coping mechanism drilled into your head by George and Fred over the past few weeks. You drew circles were you wanted to scratch, put plasters over fingertips you wanted to pick at. You took big breaths and did the stretches George insisted on. You even tried getting a full night’s sleep - nothing worked.

It filled you with guilt. You felt as though you were letting them both down by struggling.

You stared out the window of the dormitory at the sky, moonlight spilling onto your skin and staining your clothes a gauzy silver. You’d read once that sometimes when the planets were in rotation, you could see them as though they were as close as the moon.

This didn’t seem right to you. How could Mars seem so close? It was an optical illusion. The planets revolved around the sun, but humans had once thought they revolved around Earth instead.

It must’ve been a very strange experience to realise you weren’t as important as you thought. The Earth was just the Earth, spinning and wobbling its path through space.

You shook your head, feeling lost. It was ridiculous to project your feelings on the solar system. But still, you couldn’t help but feel like, despite its inhabitants and its systems, the Earth was so lonely.

Your necklace began to grow cold until it was almost like ice against your skin. One of the twins, or maybe both, had charmed it to change temperature. Cold usually meant, ‘Ghostie, you awake?’

You cringed against the sensation. Why couldn’t they booty call you like normal young men, throwing stones at your window with a boom box? Or, for merlin’s sake, an owl?

You grumbled to yourself, throwing the fleece blanket from your body. You were hardly dressed for company in knickers and a tank top, so you threw on a grey zip-up jacket and a pair of pyjama shorts that were hardly any better than the knickers. Luckily the jacket hung past the shorts. You wanted to care that you were dressed scantily, really, but the boys wouldn’t care and you didn’t have it in you to find something else.

You trekked down the stairs, your trainer socks slippery against the well-worn wood. Fred stretched languidly in front of the fireplace, a pack of exploding snap cards and a mountain of chocolate frogs beside him whilst George was sitting much more straight-backed on the sofa.

“I’m cold,” you said, announcing your arrival. The redheads turned to look at you over their shoulders. Fred rolled his eyes at you and flicked his wand. The necklace slowly heated until it was pleasantly warm against your collarbones.

You clambered over the back of the sofa with little grace, folding your knees underneath you and leaning heavily against George’s arm. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“If I were a lesser man, I’d ask where your bottoms were, Y/L/N,” said Fred, shuffling the cards dexterously.

You raised your jacket wordlessly, exposing your bottoms.

“Wouldn’t you know, they were there the whole time.”

“You assumed the same as me, George.”

George didn’t reply, though his expression said he was similarly embarrassed.

“And do you always let girls you presume to be half-naked climb all over you?” you asked.

“So talkative,” George chastened.

“Don’t change the subject! I’m interested in the answer,” said Fred.

“Oh shove off! You insufferable tyrants.”

Ah, so he knows how it feels now, you thought. You looked up into his face, the line of his jaw.

You looked down at your legs, feeling fatigued. Smooth stretches of skin and fine hair interrupted only by thin white lines. The low light made them almost impossible to see. They shined like silver when you moved, caught by the light of a nearby candle. They felt a lifetime away now when a young you had used pins and quills and little carving knives to punish yourself for bad behaviour.

You traced a slightly thicker one with a pointed fingernail. You pushed it nastily into the scar, but it didn’t hurt.

You sighed.

Fred and George were half arguing about something you didn’t catch, Fred through a mouthful of chocolate.

It was hard, always being miserable. People often criticized the moody for ruining the mood, but it wasn’t as if you could choose how to be. You wanted to wake each day and be happy and entertaining and absurdly good-natured, like the twins. It was an abject cruelty, then, that every day you woke up and felt the immeasurable dread of continuing on another day. Not even magic could help you with that.

You rejected Fred’s offer to play, happy to sit and watch the boys play. You let yourself slide into the space George had vacated, curling into a tight ball. Your stomach hurt.

Godric, there was always something fucking wrong with you.

You were frustrated. The boys could tell. Their game of snap was stretched thin, and you knew it was your fault. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of singed hair, restless. You squirmed against the warm leather under your skin, feeling sticky and out of sorts.

You closed your eyes against the aching and slept.

You woke up crying.

Fred shifted in his sleep. He was leaning against your legs, his hair and face smushed into the leather beneath you. George was facedown in the carpet. You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle any sound.

The clock on the wall read 4 minutes past 4 o’clock in the morning. You’d only managed an hour and a half of sleep.

You couldn’t remember what you’d been dreaming. Maybe somewhere familiar. Faces you recognized. It didn’t matter, only the feeling of being crushed by the air. You reached out without thinking, grabbing Fred’s shoulder.

He roused gracelessly, blinking through squinted eyes at you. A hard sob rocked you to the core, the feeling of breathlessness sinking deep into your chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You couldn’t answer. You grasped for his arm, begging him to do something, to save you. You felt as though you were going to run out of air.

“Hey, you’re alright. You’re okay. Let’s breathe, should we? Breathe with me.” He grabbed the hand you’d pushed over your mouth and brought it to his chest. You could feel him take a huge inhale and you tried your best to replicate it.

“Good! That’s good. You’re doing so well.” Another big breath, a long exhale.

“You feel that? The leather under you.” He grabbed your free hand and put it on the seat. “Feels weird, huh? Dimples and wrinkles.” He dragged your hand over the texture repeatedly.

A big breath.

Eventually, your breathing returned. The crying stayed.

“Don’t cry, ghost.”

You frowned. It was odd to be looking down at Fred instead of up. He pressed your hand tighter to his chest.

“Bad dream?”

“Don’t remember,” you whispered.

“It was just a dream. You’re okay. I promise.”

George snored. Fred rolled his eyes. You laughed through the tears, blinking the last of them away.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

You knew he was telling the truth.