#this is my fault he asked me what my deepest darkest secret was

[ging-ler]

My irl friend got me a "I ❤️ the once-ler" bracelet so naturally I have to kill him

[dam-peace]

Due to some personal health issues, the update for Vice Virtue will unfortunately be delayed. I hope to complete it by the end of this week, but in the meantime, I wanted to leave you all with something...

Word Count: 903 words

This hidden game scene is written in wake of the conversation between both Torin Bulregard & Larson Beckford Jr. Which takes place in the Book 1, Prologue of “Vice Virtue.” Following the line;

“A team, I'm giving [Y/N] a team…”

Serenity, Private Psychiatry Practice.

Dr Torin Bulregard's Office…

Tori’s POV

“Will that be all?” Lars asks, lifting his arm up slightly to peer down at his expensive, name brand watch. The question draws my attention to the office clock, hung against the spotless ivory walls…

It’s certainly getting late…

“Yes.” I answer, turning my gaze back to the glacial figure before me.

Lars nods, “Then, I’ll take my leave.” Standing, he adjusts his dark tailored suit, quickly I rise from my seat to see him out. Saddened by his upcoming departure…

It’s a shame that our meetings only consist of work and the well-being of his only child.

“Torin…” Lars pauses on our way to the door.

I blink up at him, craning my neck to peer into his icy pupils, compensating for our vast height difference.

“Yes?” I ask hopefully…

Desperately wanting the man before me to ask to discuss another topic, wishing to spend more time in each other’s company. Confined to the quiet safety of my well furbished office…

Unfortunately, nothing but a silly pipe dream…

And something vastly out of character for a man such as Lars.

“I want you to know that I do in fact appreciate all of your hard work.” He states calmly, his words are warm but the look on his face is anything but…

Regardless of my quiet disappointment, a shy smile dances on the edge of my lips…

It may not be what I had hoped for…

But none the less…

I appreciate his praise.

“Thank you.” I breathe out, feeling like a child again…

All those years ago…

When Lars first took notice of my “stellar” work ethic, far beyond that of my younger years.

The very moment when he first complimented my intelligence and acute attention to detail.

Those days…

Those wonderful years…

Where he was just….

There.

Lars’ steely gaze passes over me in cold observation…

“But I have to ask…”

“Hm?” I tilt my head in curiosity, urging him forward...

Despite the inordinate dread creeping up my spine…

“Yes, please continue.”

Lars’ steely gaze sharpens, latching onto my timorous ocean blue eyes…

“Do you feel guilty?”

The unexpected question hits me like a ton of bricks, causing a pitiful bubble of laughter to rise from the back of my throat…

“You mean do I feel ‘guilty’ about backstabbing my childhood friend?” I start.

“The same ‘friend’ who entrusted me with their deepest, darkest secrets. Who used to seek solace in my presence when we were children, their confidant.”

I can’t help the humourless chuckle that seeps out of me. “A ‘confidant’ who ironically runs to divulge their very nightmares and everlasting trauma to the last person they’d want on earth to hear about it…” I rattle off sarcastically, trying to keep my tone in check.

It's not his fault that I’ve become a ‘backstabbing snake’…

“Of course not.” I answer back stiffly, rolling out the tension in my shoulders.

“It’s as you said, [Y/N]’s feelings are irrelevant. Respecting their wishes falls short to the consequences that would follow.”

Tilting my head higher, I look up at the older man with conviction.

“So, ‘no’ Lars, I don’t feel ‘guilty’, not in the slightest. Rather, I’m doing my part, plain and simple.” I respond with surety of my wicked ways…

“Besides…” I trail off. Siezing the moment to speak my truth…

A sad, mocking smile arises, taking hold of my entire face…

“You’d just replace me with someone else to get the job done anyway.”

A quiet moment passes between us at my accusation…

Causing a wave of anxiety to slowly overtake my body…

Wanting to consume me…

To swallow me whole…

As my mind recalls memories from the past…

That day…

The last time I was together like this with both my mentor and saviour….

The prolonged silence that suffocated the otherwise spacious room…

The eerie quiet…

Shattered by the shallow, sporadic breathing of the body lying next to me…

The piercing pain…

The haunting screams…

The broken moans…

The carnivorous lust for-

“You haven’t changed.” Lars declares, thankfully relinquishing the hold of my demons from the past…

If only for a moment…

I blink out of my stupor, taken aback by the sudden statement.

He doesn’t see me any different from the past...?

A light wave of nausea rolls off me in waves at the thought…

“You’ve always been smart, Torin. I’m glad to see that has remained the same.” Lars continues…

Am I dreaming…?

I watch in wonder as Lars’ eyes soften ever so slightly, almost invisible to the naked eye…

A silent victory, I would have sadly missed if I were not standing close enough to take notice…

If I wasn’t watching him so intently…

As always…

“Good night, Torin.” Lars bids me a pleasant ‘good night’, patting my slender shoulder with his large palm…

All too soon, he leaves my office…

Yet, in a shameful attempt to ensure the moment lasts…

I follow him out…

Chasing the subtle softness in his otherwise frigid gaze…

Thump…

Only to be met with the dark shadow of his large silhouette, as Lars smoothly makes his departure out of the building…

I watch him with bated breath, until I can see him no more…

Again, asking myself the same sickening question from all those years ago…

One I have repeatedly asked, since I was but a child…

Searching the dark confines of my mind for an answer…

Only to be met with heavy silence…

………………………..

Lars…

Am I…

‘Special’ to you again…?

[drivinmeinsane]

In case you're not tired of them yet- I've got some character asks :]

For Holland; 8, 16 and 27

For Julian; 15, 17 and 28 (Driver)

For K; 2, 17 and 47

Thank you for the message! I appreciated the opportunity to talk about these guys some more!!! <3

Holland

8. Unpopular opinion about them.

Holland loved his wife dearly, but Jackson Healy is the unexpected love of his life.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves.

Holland is worried that Holly hates him. He thinks he genuinely might be a bad father. He couldn’t fault his daughter if she blames him for the death of her mom, he certainly does.

27. Their guilty pleasure.

It would be easy to say alcohol, smoking, or self-flagellation, but really? Holland likes all those cheesy family activities (this includes Jackson of course). He didn’t get to spend enough time with Holly and her mom together, so he tries to put in the extra effort these days for family game nights, dinners, movie trips, anything they can do together. He also gets the bonus satisfaction of seeing Healy’s face flush every time he’s included as part of the March family.

Julian

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done.

Julian has done plenty of terrible things in his life. He is a product of his upbringing. As gently as I can put this with the understanding that he was victimized, the worst thing he did was not love himself enough to save himself by cutting ties with his mother and his brother. Without them in the picture, he very likely would not have been engaging in the destructive (both to himself and to other people) behaviors to the extent that he was. Crystal truly was an epicenter of bad.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them.

Off the top of my head, here are some of the songs that remind of Julian » I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski » God's Gonna Cut You Down - Johnny Cash » Afraid - The Neighborhood » Knives Out - Radiohead » Grip - Seeb x Bastille

28. How they feel about Driver.

I feel like Julian would find common ground with Driver. Neither of them had a stable childhood, however Driver was able to come out of his experiences being able to connect with others, to love, despite everything. Julian might be able to let him in. Perhaps he could heal.

K

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on.

I firmly believe that Deckard would have left that upgrade center with two kids, Ana and K, if he had truly known what was going on from the start. By all rights, they were siblings. K had found his family. He just would not -could not- consider himself human enough to deserve it. By the time Deckard realized, likely when Ana explained the circumstances of K visiting, it would have been too late for him to claim K in life. In a happier story, he would have pried K off those steps before he succumbed to his wounds and the thought that he wanted to die. Maybe he could have been saved. Deckard had loved a replicant as a partner, he could have easily loved a replicant as a son.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them.

Here's just some of the songs I associate with K. We'll go ahead ignore that I'm pulling some of these off my Six/K playlist... » Like Real People Do - Hozier » Star Hopping Lover - Chance Peña » Take me to Church - Hozier » Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths » Way Down We Go - KALEO

47. Their dream job.

I think that in another life, K would have really liked to do something involving agriculture. As we see in both the script and in the movie, he has a genuine interest in Sapper’s occupation. He wants to know what he farms. He wants to know what’s bubbling on the stove. He’s intrigued by the cowslip he finds on the ground. Anything involving the creation of life and the tactile use of his hands seems right up his alley. Personally, I specifically see him as keeping bees if he were not… leashed by the LAPD (if he were to survive defection or were allowed to openly have his own interests). They captivated him from the moment on landed on his hand. As he is, they’re part of a system working for the betterment of a colony. I also think that in keeping bees, he would feel closer to Deckard given that he has his own. It might feel almost as if it were a family business, and we all know how desperately K wants to belong to a family. I’ve included some of my notes on the script and some shots of K finding the hives. I have too many feelings. :(

[chaotic-on-main]

Sky, first of all, let me congratulate you on reaching 250 followers! You are an absolute star and seeing all your fantastic accomplishments is a sight to behold!💖💖😊 Second, I think I would like a matcha green tea with kitchen sink from the ice cream truck please! Specifically, kitty acquisition!🐈😻 Thank you so very much and keep being awesome! :)

Order up!! One matcha green tea with everything but the kitchen sink for Cas!!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event!

☾ Pairing ➼ Levi Ackerman x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ modernAU, alluded animal abuse (very very little!), cat dad!Levi, kitty adoption, fluff, established relationship

☾ A/N ➼ Hi Cas!! Thank you so much for sending this request in, it's so cute!! The kitty acquisition line is so funny even tho it took me ages to understand what you meant (my fault). Just imagining him being soft to animals that need love?? UGH I WANT HIM. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! 💕 (Also I hope you're hanging in there still! Tropical storms are so scary and I'm sending you all the best wishes and vibes your way)

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.9k

Levi is always really good at keeping surprises from you. No amount of pestering nor poking would make him relent his deepest darkest secrets. Even when you pulled the birthday card and asked for even the smallest of hints, he didn’t budge.

You suppose that wasn’t the worst thing, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t the littlest peeved at it even though you knew it would benefit you in the long run.

So, when Levi blindfolded you the moment you both buckled into his car for the afternoon, you can’t help but sigh heavily. He told you to dress casually and you both skipped lunch, so you knew he was taking you out to eat.

Why he wouldn’t show you where he was taking you though was beyond you. You knew this town like the back of your hand so where could he even take you that you wouldn't know?

“Levi, you’ve kept me on my toes for a whole month. At least tell me something about it?” You whine. The speakers around you play the shared playlist you and Levi had made together in an effort to stop fighting over who got the music that day – the rule being each artist would get 5 songs each. You managed to swing 10 for a couple artists, which of course was met with an eye roll.

“You’ve waited one month. What’s another 15 minutes?” He grumbles next to you. You feel his hand sit on your thigh and squeeze your flesh gently.

“Just one teeny-tiny smidgen?”

“Fine. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said one small thing. That’s all you get.” There’s a hint of a smirk in his voice, which only makes you huff quietly.

There are a few turns and stops here and there but eventually, you feel the car slow to a stop before hearing Levi moving the gear stick into park. He turns the car off, the jingling of keys filling up the now empty space.

"Are you ready?" He asks off to the side.

"Yes!" Then you feel his long fingers hooking into the blindfold and tugging up and out of your eyes then over your head.

It takes a few hard blinks before your vision can make sense of the brightness around you. At first you notice you’re in front of some sort of shopping center. Upon further investigation, you’re in front of a café.

There are big, wide glass windows on the entire exterior wall, littered with various paw prints and cat vinyl stickers. On one of the windows reads ‘Whiskers Perch’ with a cat paw holding up a steaming mug of something. Your first thought is it’s a cat themed café but then your eyes snap to movement right below the name – it’s a tabby cat doing the biggest stretch known to man.

This isn’t just a cat themed café.

This is a cat café.

And Levi took you here for your birthday because you’ve always wanted to visit one of these.

“Oh my, Levi..” Your voice trails off as you look over to your boyfriend of many years. He’s eyeing you cautiously as he gauges your reaction. You give him a wide smile and lean over to kiss him on the cheek softly.

“This is the best thing ever! I see why you wanted to wait to show me.” You can’t hold back the squeal that comes out as you unbuckle yourself from the seat. Levi softly huffs in amusement next to you as he does the same.

When you and Levi walk in, you’re met immediately by a hostess wearing a long apron and cute pink top. She smiles at you both as she looks up from the pad in her hand.

“Hi! Welcome! What name is your reservation under?” Her pretty eyes bounce between the two of you.

“Ackerman.” Levi says. The hostess’ eyes trail down her pad before releasing a small ‘ah!’ and marking something down.

“Great, looks like you booked for an hour and fifteen. Follow me this way!” She chirps as she sits the pad down on the wooden podium.

As the hostess leads you to your reserved spot, you don’t hesitate to ogle at everything around you. The café is quite large, which you wouldn’t have guessed from just the outside alone. There’s one central lobby where cats freely roam – either sleeping on the many towers or playing with each other and the miscellaneous toys lying about. You don’t spot the patrons right away but as you move further in, you notice there are semi-enclosed rooms lining the outer walls.

Each room has an archway as an entrance, kept wide open so that cats and patrons can come and go, and above each door is a number – the max going to 24. Most of the booths are filled with multiple people, all eating and drinking with cats lingering around them. The best thing about the little enclosed alcoves was that the noise level is minimum.

She takes you to an alcove off to the left, labeled number 8.

“Your waiter will be with you momentarily. Please take a few minutes to read through the rules if you haven’t already.” She smiles widely at the two of you as you settle in before taking off back to the front.

There are a couple small menus in front of you and you reach over to pick them up. One is a menu for food and drinks and the other is a rules list.

1. Be gentle – no tugging or pulling.

2. No loud noises.

3. Do not pick up the cats – let them come to you.

4. Do not share the food/drinks with the cats.

5. Cats are cats, we are not held liable for any damage they may cause you.

6. If there’s any emergency, do not hesitate to alert a team member.

7. Feel free to take pictures and have fun!

8. Some cats may be up for adoption – please ask a team member if you might be interested.

A lot of these rules are common sense, though you can't blame them for reiterating them for those who need it. The last rule catches your eye and you find yourself flicking your gaze up and over the menu to Levi. He’s busy looking at the drink menu and pays you no mind. Is this why he said this was a bad idea?

“Are there any teas you want to try?” Levi asks over to you, his eyes still glued to the laminated menu in his hands.

“You’re the tea connoisseur, I trust you.” You shrug your shoulders as your eyes graze the menu in front of you. The teas had fancy names with their blends underneath and truth be told, it was all a little overwhelming. Best to leave it to Levi, you think. But the food…

Your waiter comes by a few moments later to take the orders, dropping off a teapot and a couple of cups right after. As Levi stirs the leaves around, you take this chance to stare out to the lobby. There are a myriad of cats running about but none paying much mind – except for a small jet black one sitting high in one of the cat towers.

Bright yellow eyes stare into yours from far away. You can’t see much of him as he’s tucked in high, but from what you can see, there are a few nicks in his ears and his face is quite round. Besides his eyes, everything is dark – like a black void. He only sits and stares at the two of you, despite you trying to coax him to come closer.

“Levi, I think this one is plotting our murder.” You mutter, pointing towards the dark void.

“Well, it is a cat. That’s just how they are.” Levi says back jokingly. Satisfied with the steeping time, he pours a dark red liquid into the cups before sliding yours over to you so you can make it up as you like with the ingredients offered. Levi leans back with his cup in hand, the way he always does, and takes a careful sip as he eyes you doing the same.

The flavor is wonderful, and you can’t even begin to categorize the different notes. It’s sweet and floral, almost earthy in tones – with a light spice. Levi always knew how to pick a good tea. You lean back in your seat and sigh in content.

“This is good.” You say finally, setting the cup and saucer back down on to the table with a clink.

“It’s not half bad.”

“Not half bad? That’s some high praise from Levi Ackerman.” You joke, raising an eyebrow at him.

Suddenly there’s a shift in weight on your booth as a large short-haired orange cat leaps onto it. It’s tan striped with a few white spots across his face. Wide hazel eyes stare up at you.

Mrrooww!

“Oh look at you!” You coo down as you place your hand on his head and start scratching. His fur is soft and you feel his body vibrating under you as he purrs loudly. Trailing your fingers down his red collar, you pinch the tag between two fingers and lean down for a closer look.

“Milo huh? You are such a cuties.” You whisper down to him. He lets you pet his back a couple more times before circling around and lying down next to you. His eyes are closed instantly, deciding this is his new napping spot. You place your hand on his soft belly and pet it, eliciting more purrs.

You and Levi fill the time before the food came with talks of what you’d like to do that evening. As cats came for face rubs and left with happy purrs, you ultimately decide you want to stay home and make dinner together then maybe settle in with a movie. Levi, of course, agreed easily as he was not one who liked to be out at night anyways – but he was always willing if you wanted it. The idea of going out for your birthday became less appealing as the years came and went. Well, with the exception of the cat café, of course.

The next time your eyes survey the lobby is after the waiter comes by to pick the empty plates in front of you. You immediately spot the same black cat from earlier. He’s much closer this time, sitting back on his hind legs with his front paws barely passing through the arch. Those electric eyes stare up but not at you. They’re staring straight at Levi, who stops talking to look over once he realizes your attention is no longer on the conversation.

“Levi, I think the murder he’s plotting is yours.” You say quietly. An attempt to ‘pspsps’ is made but to no avail. Not even a glance is thrown your way. The cat slowly blinks before standing up on all fours and leaving.

“If I go missing, you’ll know it was him.” Levi says back dryly.

You snort at that as your hands reach down under the table to pet the long white fur belonging to a Himalayan cat that had laid claim to your lap halfway through your meal. You don’t fight the urge to boop the soft pink nose of your new friend. A baby blue eye cracks open at you from the sudden touch but she just curls up even more on your legs, stretching her paws out to show you matching soft pink beans.

“How much time do we have left, do you think?” You ask Levi as you look up at him. He’s watching you intently with those dark eyes of his and there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he does.

“About another 20 minutes.” He glances at his phone screen to check the time. You peep the screen and notice his background is a picture of you sitting on the central fountain in your town’s square, mid-laugh as you try hide from the camera. It was taken a few weeks ago and you wonder how long he’s had it like that. It’s intriguing considering he always kept the original images that came with the phone upon first purchasing it, but you don’t press.

There’s a soft ding to the right of you and when you look down, you see that the black cat is back – this time with a small silver toy in his mouth. It seems to be a bell attached to a string. In a swift motion, he jumps up to Levi’s booth and sets it down next to Levi before sitting back on his haunches and staring up into Levi’s startled eyes.

This is the first cat to approach Levi the entire time you have been there. And he was brought a gift no less. You find yourself quietly giggling at the sight and don’t hesitate to snap a picture of their stare off.

mew

The quiet mewl he makes melts your heart immediately.

“He brought you dinner.” You say softly.

“She, actually.” The waiter that had left with the check earlier is back now, setting the black book and pen down in front of Levi. “She’s unusually quiet for her breed, so it’s nice to see her so open with a patron. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Levi grumbles, taking the pen and signing the merchant receipt in his neat handwriting.

“Can I ask what kind of cat she is? And what happened to her?” You eye the nicks in her ears. There are a few chunks taken out, all fully healed.

“She’s a rescue. Before coming here, she was locked in a cage at all times. You see, she’s a bombay so you can imagine what they held her for. They’re quite rare.” The waiter says sadly. They perk up quickly though, and smiles over to Levi. “But she’s really taken a liking to you.”

Levi carefully reaches over and his hand hovers over her head in hesitation. She initially pulls back and you can see the gears in her head rolling as she considers Levi. She opts to sniff his hand and that’s it.

They do look good together, you think.

“Can I ask- is she up for adoption?” Levi’s eyes snap to yours.

“We don’t have room for a cat right now.” He mutters quietly.

“Shush.” You wave your hand at him before turning your attention back to the waiter.

“She is! Would like me to get the paperwork?”

“Now hold on a minute-“

“Levi, look how much she likes you!” You stretch your arms out to the black cat who had not moved a muscle during this whole interaction. Yellow eyes blink slowly up at Levi.

“That doesn’t refute the fact that we barely have the space nor time to take care of her.”

“We’ll make room. Besides, I work from home so I can keep an eye on her!”

Levi says your name with exasperation, narrowing his gaze at you.

“She needs a home.” You say, and even more quietly, “Plus, it’s my birthday.”

“You’re impossible.” He grumbles before turning his attention back to black cat next to him. There’s no collar around her neck. “What’s her name?” He asks, looking up to the waiter.

“She never came with one nor did she answer to one.” The waiter purses his lips.

“Would you like to come home with us?” Levi asks gently to the cat. You swear you see her round eyes widen as another quiet mewl escapes her. His expression has softened considerably and the tone he uses makes your heart jump. It's all laced with adoration. Slowly raising your phone up, you take another photo.

Levi straightens up and clears his throat before raking his fingers through his hair as he thinks. His eyes slide over to you, almost as if he was checking one more time if this is really what you want. You give him two thumbs up.

“Fine, bring me the paperwork.”

Half an hour later, the adoption papers were official and you are both sitting in his car, the silence almost deafening. Your new family member curls up in the carrier that was provided to you to take, and you turn around in your seat to watch her sleep.

“Are you mad?” You whisper over to Levi.

“No.” Levi turns the keys, the car rumbling to life right away.

“Are you sure?” You bite your lip nervously.

“Yes, I’m not mad. Just-“ He looks over to you. “This is our first pet together. I’m…”

“Levi, are you nervous?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Levi grips the steering wheel and puts the gear in reverse. He checks the rearview mirror for any oncoming traffic, his gaze dipping down to the black cat in the backseat.

“You’re going to be a great cat dad, Levi.” You smile over at him. He just sighs softly as he pulls out of the parking spot, eyes alert to anything that might come in his blindspots.

“We’ll see. Have you thought of a name?”

“I was thinking Bleptholomew.” You say back with confidence.

“Absolutely fucking not.” He says quickly, eyes cutting over to you from the mirror. “Besides, that sounds like a boy's name.”

“Pft, cats can be named anything. They don’t believe in gendered names.” You cross your arms over your chest with a fake pout.

“Anything else?”

“Frankie?”

As Levi drives out of the parking lot and into the busy street, he reaches over and gives your thigh a squeeze.

“Frankie it is.”

[adenei]

It's Time To Go

My Second Submission for Era #2 of the @cruelsummer-ficfest (had to get this one done because if the next eras are what I think they are based on the hints, I need to be READY!)

Song: It's Time To Go

Album: Evermore

Ship: Tedoire (lol, somehow I managed to throw Romione in there too because I can't help it)

When the words of a sister come back in whispers 

That prove she was not in fact what she seemed

July

Sobs echo down the hall from Victoire’s room, where she lays curled up on her bed. It’s the same story every night since she found out the girl she thought was her friend was only using her to get closer to Teddy.

Victoire has no one to blame but herself for the pain. It’s all her fault. She invited Carla to join their study sessions. She introduced them. But Vic never divulged her silly crush to Carla. Because how can you tell someone that you’re falling in love with your best friend—who you’ve known your entire life—when you won’t even admit it to yourself?

There’s a soft knock on her door, but Vic’s not in the mood to talk. “Go away.”

The door opens anyway, only it’s not Maman or Dominique. It’s Aunt Hermione. Sitting up, she wipes the tears from her eyes and apologizes. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize it was you.”

Hermione offers a soft smile and closes the door. “No need to be sorry. Can I sit down?”

Vic nods and gestures toward her desk chair. She’s close to her aunt—most likely because of their shared love of knowledge—but not ‘sit on the bed for girl talk’ close.

“Now, I’m not trying to throw your sister under the bus, but she told your mum what’s going on, and your mum told me. They thought maybe I could help.”

Vic feels as though a bucket of ice has been poured over her. As if her former friend/dorm mate stealing her crush and best friend wasn’t bad enough, her sister divulges her deepest, darkest secret? Naturally, the only thing Vic thinks to do is lie about it.

“Whatever she said, it’s not true.”

Hermione chuckles. “She only said your dorm mate recently started dating Teddy and you feel as though you’ve lost your best friend.”

“Oh, well, yeah. That’s true.”

“I completely understand.”

Vic looks up with questioning eyes. Is she just saying she understands, or does she actually understand? “You do?”

“Don’t you pay attention when George and Ginny love to give your Uncle Ron a hard time?” Hermione says through a laugh. “Although, my dorm mate and I were never exactly friends when she decided to snog your uncle in the middle of the common room for everyone to see.”

The hesitation Vic had been feeling transforms to relief. “Did she know you fancied him when she did it, too?” Her hand claps over her mouth. She didn’t mean to give that away.

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” A knowing look crosses Hermione’s face, but is replaced with a hint of sadness as she reflects on her experience for Vic. “I thought I was obvious about my intentions—to Ron, at least—especially after I’d asked him to attend a party with me. But you can never assume the male species will pick up what you’re putting down. Lavender, however, I think knew even though we had never spoken about it, but chose to go for him anyway.”

Anger begins to simmer under Vic’s skin.. “Why do girls do this to each other? I don’t get it. Carla knows how close I am with Teddy. I thought she was just looking for study partners when she tagged along with us to the library. She wasn’t acting all flirty or anything at all! But then she went behind my back and invited him to the last Hogsmeade weekend without me. Teddy didn’t know. He thought I was joining them, so he told me they’d be at  The Three Broomsticks. And when I walked in, I saw her snogging him in a booth. I haven’t spoken to either of them since.”

Another treacherous tear escapes her eyes, forging a path down her cheek before she wipes it off.

“Are you planning to give Teddy the silent treatment all summer?” Hermione asks. 

Vic folds her arms over her chest, her sadness shifting into defiance. “I—well, I’m certainly not going to speak to him first.”

“Well,” Hermione replies with a sigh, “I suppose that isn’t a terrible idea, but what if it doesn’t work?”

Even though she says it’s not terrible, Vic doesn’t believe her aunt. She’s totally lying.

“Why wouldn’t it work? If he has the guts to snog Carla in the middle of the busiest pub in Hogsmeade, he should have the guts to at least tell me he’s dating my best friend.”

“Yes, but if he doesn’t know why you’re mad, you won’t receive the reaction you’re hoping for.” Hermione gets up from the chair and joins Vic on the edge of her bed. “Victoire, you and Teddy are close. Do not be like me and let someone else try to take that away from you. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, it’s not worth losing his friendship over. If Ron hadn’t almost died, I can’t honestly say if we would have ever recovered from that.”

“But you did.”

“We did. And you can too—only much faster if you seek him out first. Sometimes giving up is the strong thing, or running out is the brave thing. But you have to decide if walking out is the one thing that will find you the right thing.”

Vic laughs. “You sound like a Sphinx.”

Hermione leans over and nudges Vic with her shoulder. “I know. Just know there’s always another way. You’re a smart young woman, Victoire Weasley. I know you’ll do what’s right for you. And you and Teddy will work your way through this. I just don’t want to see you hurt the way I was.”

“Thanks, Hermione.” Vic wraps her arms around her aunt’s torso.

She appreciates the conversation and having someone who knows what this kind of heartbreak is like. Maybe she can even allow herself to feel hopeful. Especially since Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione obviously figured it out in the end. 

But even though she knows Hermione is probably right, Vic needs some time and space. So for now, she’ll choose to run. Even though it may ruin her summer, she’s not ready to face Teddy. At least not yet.

—

Or that moment again, he’s insisting that friends

Look at each other like that

August

“Ted?”

“Huh?”

Teddy had been pushing the food around his plate and staring off into space, not paying attention to the conversation around the dinner table. He was thinking about Victoire again. And he really shouldn’t be—at least not in that way—since he technically had a girlfriend.

 Who you’ve avoided seeing all summer.

Ginny chuckles. “Harry asked you if you’re excited for seventh year. But if there’s something else you’d rather talk about, we’re all ears.”

“It’s fine, Gin. Don’t press him,” Harry covers for him.

“No, no, it’s fine.” 

Shaking the haze from his mind, Teddy does his best to focus on Harry and Ginny. It’s the last time he’s going to see them until Christmas. The least he can do is engage in conversation. His meager teenaged concerns can wait.

“I—yeah—I can’t believe it’s my last year already. Can’t wait.” He tries to bite back a grimace, knowing that he’s trying too hard, and hopes to Merlin that his hair hasn’t shifted to a sandy brown.

But Lily only solidifies his fears when she points at him with wide eyes. “Ooooh, Teddy’s hair changed colors!” 

Damnit.

“You know, I think I forgot to pack all the stuff we got at Diagon Alley today. I better go do that.” 

He slides his chair back and leaves the table without being excused. It’s not like he’s that hungry anyway. Teddy bounds up the stairs two at a time, and shuts the door upon entering his small bedroom. After flopping on the bed, he covers his face with a pillow. 

This was supposed to be the best summer yet. He and Vic had so many activities planned. She was going to take him to the sea, show him Shell Cottage. They were going to study together, vowing to get a head start on their work so it wouldn’t catch up with them during the term. Teddy was going to show her the ropes for Prefect duties—he was that certain she’d be named one. And with all that extra one-on-one time, he was hoping to finally decode her—to figure out if her heart beat just as fast when they’re together. 

But then Carla snogged him and everything changed. He was trapped in a relationship with a girl he didn’t have feelings for and no way to get out of it.

And ever since Vic has been radio silent. Avoiding him at all costs. They stopped talking and studying together at the end of June, and Vic hasn’t owled him to follow through on any of their proposed summer plans. He thought maybe they could talk at one of the giant Weasley family gatherings, but Vic was always surrounded by Fleur, Dom, or her aunts.

A knock on his door tears him from his thoughts before Harry enters.

 “Hey. Er, you sure everything’s alright?” His godfather runs a hand through his ever-messy black hair and leans against the back of the door.

“Yeah. I just don’t think I’m looking forward to the year as much as I thought I would be,” Teddy admits, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“Ah.” Harry pauses for a moment before continuing cautiously. “Does it have anything to do with Victoire?”

Throwing the pillow off his face, he sits up and offers Harry a bored, yet sheepish, look. “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s hard to miss.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong. Everything was fine before Carla and I started dating.”

Harry purses his lips and tries to hold back a snort, but fails. It comes out like choked laughter instead.

“What?” Teddy narrows his eyes in annoyance.

“Nothing. Nothing. You just remind me of—never mind.”

Teddy groans. “Seriously, Harry, this is not a Ron and Hermione scenario.”

He’s heard enough stories about the seven year lead up to their relationship and all the bumps they hit along the way. But that wasn’t him and Vic. They were just friends…until they weren’t?

Shit. We ARE Ron and Hermione 2.0.

Harry simply raises an eyebrow at him. “Ted, I know I may not be the best person to talk about this with, but trust me. Just because I don’t like to talk about these things does not mean I haven’t noticed. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. And the way you look at her.”

The urge to deny everything takes hold and Teddy shakes his head.

“You’re mental. We are just friends. Friends look at each other like that. Especially friends who’ve known each other their whole lives.” 

It’s a weak argument, but his stubbornness gets the best of him. He’s not about to admit anything. Not when he’s fucked it up so badly by letting Carla in.

“Right.” “What?”

Harry shrugs. “Nothing. I can’t make you see what you don’t want to, but can you promise me one thing?”

Teddy watches Harry for a few moments. The man has never led Teddy astray before, so what has he got to lose? “I’ll try.”

“Talk to her. Figure things out. And don’t be as thick as Ron was.” 

Teddy takes a moment to let the words sink in. He knows Harry isn’t saying it to make the holidays a little less tense. Harry just wants Teddy to be happy. He always has. And so, Teddy nods. 

“I’ll try.”

Because losing Vic isn’t an option.

Before his mind begins to swirl with all the ways he can get his best friend back, Harry interrupts him once more before leaving. “Gin’s taking the kids to the Burrow in a bit. Want to join?”

“Think Vic’ll be there?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

Harry nods. With a single glance back, and perhaps a hint of a smile on his lips that Teddy can’t quite see, he says, “I’ll let you know when it’s time to go.”

[kyokittymeow]

Nightmares

(i'm so bad at titles...)

This took me way longer than it should have 😭

Anyway enjoy some fluff and comfort!

Acronix has been acting quite strangely for the past few days. He was unusually quiet, distant and even seemed a little depressed. But as soon as Krux asked him about it, he waved it off and claimed that everything was fine.

Krux was sure his brother was lying. But why? What was he hiding from him?

He didn't behave any differently today either. He shuffled around like a zombie, as if the whole world was weighing on his shoulders. Krux sighed. This has to stop, he would have to talk to him.

Krux stood in front of Acronix's door and knocked. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," was the quiet answer. He entered and spotted Acronix sitting on the bed. Krux could clearly sense that something was wrong.

Acronix looked at him questioningly as his brother sat down next to him. "Whats wrong with you?" He got straight to the point. His twin blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?" Krux sighed again. "Don't play dumb. You know exactly what I mean."

Acronix tugged at the sleeve of his sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. "You're acting completely different than usual," he continued. "So...cheerless. Why?"

As his little brother didn't answer, he continued to ask: "You're not sick, are you?" He shook his head. "Any sign of pain?" Another headshake. "Acronix, talk to me," Krux asked gently. "I'm starting to worry about you."

Acronix pressed his knees to his chest. "I don't wanna talk about it..." The elder frowned. "Why not?" He hesitated. "You'd think it's silly." Krux's eyes widened. "Why should i?" He shrugged his shoulders.

Krux suppressed an annoyed groan. This conversation was tough. Acronix could sometimes be as stubborn as himself. It was difficult to get a proper word out of him. But he had to remain patient. He wanted to help him because he couldn't bear this sight any longer.

"You know you can talk to me about anything," Krux tried again. He smiled warmly. "Twins aren't supposed to keep secrets from each other, hm?" Acronix looked at him. He shifted unsteadily and took a deep breath. "Lately...I'm not sleeping well."

As tired and pale as his brother looked, he had almost suspected that. Otherwise he was rather hyper and could hardly sit still. But now he seemed weak and just lounged around in his bed.

"Why is that?" Krux wanted to know. Acronix hesitated again. "I...I have nightmares." The elder raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Nightmares?" The younger one hunched his shoulders. He could tell, that he didn't like talking about it.

"It's usually the same one," he began tentatively. "It's the day from forty years ago, when we traveled through the time vortex and..." he swallowed, "...I keep seeing that terrible moment in in front of me as you...are torn from my hand and...fall into the depths."

Krux shuddered slightly as this scene played in his head. He could remember every single detail as if it were just yesterday. He actually vowed never to think about it again and had hidden it in the deepest, darkest hole in his brain.

Apparently Acronix hadn't processed that day yet, which wasn't surprising. It wasn't as long ago for him as it was for Krux.

"It was my fault, wasn't it...?" his twin whispered, so quietly, that he could barely hear him. "What do you mean?" he asked confused. "It was my fault you didn't make it through the time travel," Acronix said bitterly. "If only I had held your hand tighter, none of this would have happened."

Krux frowned in concern and gently touched his shoulder. "Don't say things like that. It's not your fault." The younger looked at him sadly. "You're just saying that..."

"No, I'm not just saying that. I mean it!" His voice became serious. "It's Garmadon and Wu's fault, don't forget that."

Acronix looked away again and took a shaky breath.

"Does that bother you that much?" Krux wanted to know. His brother nodded silently.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I thought it wasn't that important," Acronix replied with a shrug. "And I didn't want to get on your nerves with that." The older man blinked in surprise. "Acronix, your problems are also my problems. You shouldn't keep something like that a secret from me.

"I know..." he murmured. "Sorry." He could see that he was fighting back tears.

Krux wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer. "When did the nightmares start?"

Acronix rested his head on Krux's shoulder and thought for a moment. "I think about a week ago." He sighed heavily. "But actually, I've been feeling like shit for a while now. Ever since I came back to Ninjago."

Krux raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"

"I...I'm exhausted, confused...and just plain tired." Acronix looked up. "Don't get me wrong, I love this modern world!" There was that sparkle in his golden eyes again that always appeared when he was excited. "It's just...I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."

Krux could understand that. After all, this was all new to Acronix. This journey through time must have been tiring for him. Then there was the fight against Wu and the ninja - Acronix had to be completely shattered.

Suddenly Krux felt guilty. Why hadn't he noticed that earlier? He was so fixated on the plan to reclaim the time blades, that he hadn't even noticed how badly his brother was feeling.

"I'm sorry," Krux said sincerely. "I should have been there for you." Acronix stared at him in surprise. "You don't have to apologize! It's not your fault. I probably should have just told you earlier. But..." He trailed off and shrugged.

Krux sighed softly. "I can understand that it is not easy to talk about your problems. But you should know that you can tell me anything and that I will always listen to you."

Acronix smiled softly. "Thanks, bro. That means a lot to me." Krux patted his head. "No more secrets, okay?"

"Okaaaay...I promise."

The elder nodded contentedly. "Are you feeling better now?" His brother hesitated. "Well...a little bit...I think." Krux blinked thoughtfully. A little bit wasn't enough for him. He sighed and stood up. "Come."

Acronix looked at him confused. "If you sit in your room all the time, you won't get any better," Krux said. "You have to go outside." He grabbed his hand and pulled him up.

Acronix grumbled. "Do i have to...?" Krux grinned slyly. "Absolutely. Fresh air will do you good." With a sigh, the younger one gave in and followed him. "Fine..."

[traegics]

She had sacrificed everything, the only person to see that was the younger blonde beside her and yet she still didn't know the full extent, her deepest and darkest secret harbored just beneath the surface. Her soul had been the ultimate sacrifice in this plan, something she clung to knowing that in the end she would no longer have one and that alone scared her. "Oh Marni," Everleigh sighs softly. "You have no idea how much of it is my fault but even if you never know I want you to know that everything I've done is to protect you from what I was put through, what our parents did to me. They created this monster that everyone thinks I am." Her hand falls but only to wrap her arm around her sister's shoulder, pulling her frame into her own as she leaned her cheek against the top of Marni's head. "I guess I just thought- I thought Dex knew me better but the way he looked at me, the way he spoke. He hates me, how am I supposed to protect him if he can't even see the good that will come of this?" There's a momentary halt to her words as she shift slightly to glance down at the younger witch. "I think I've Briggs and Billie on board," she admits. "You remember that amulet she asked you to have me find?" She pauses for a moment gaze returning to the waters before them. "Dex left the moonlight amulet behind when he left," she admits. "I guess enduring the shift every month was better than keeping anything I ever gave him but I- I gave Billie the amulet. The one Ezra gave me before he died." There was a sad tone to her words, the obvious pain parting with the only remaining thing she had connecting her to both Ezra and Dex but it wasn't something that she regretted. Having Billie and Briggs on their side was crucial and at least the amulet was being put to good use and a gift between two people that truly loved each other. She couldn't imagine a better use for it than it just sitting on a chain in the back of her dresser. "Promise me something," Eveleigh hums absent-mindedly. "No matter what happens to me, and don't argue with me on this because we both know this is going to end in one of two ways, no matter what happens to me, don't ever let the darkness consume you, okay? You are every piece of me that is good. You are a light that this world needs."

The burden on her sister broke Marni's heart, and if no one else saw it, she did. They had to make their own sacrifices. Everleigh sacrificing her own light to give some back to her people, and in the process, she'd lost her marriage, a sister, and maybe even part of her own sanity. Things no one else would ever get to see: the way it all hurt beneath the facade. "That's not your fault," she assured, "you gave me a purpose." Her head tilting in a slight nod, Marni knew what her place at her sister's side meant, especially after Sabrina left. "I will never leave you. Where you go, I go, and we'll finish this together, I promise. They'll see, they will. We knew the prison world was going to be seen as extreme, and they'd get stuck on the smaller picture. It was so much suffering..." She could still see it: the vacant look in Abel's eyes when she pulled him out. "If we stop now, it was all for nothing. The gala was awful, it was horror unlike anything I've ever seen. The screaming. I'll never forget the screaming. We have to stop them. We're stronger for what we've done, and we will save everybody, okay? Then everyone will see."

[lovewithasideoffries]

wave: peter hayes x reader

notes: takes place in insurgent

summary: idk if i wanna spoil it bc this is my attempt at making you cry. it's angsty tho.

word count: 1k

“Tris!” you call her name, running over and pulling her in for a hug. You and Christina have been worried sick waiting for her at the Candor compound. Jack Kang was kind enough to let you and the rest of the Dauntless stay there for a while.

“Hey guys,” she says when she pulls away. You notice she's cut her hair short; it looks good.

“Have you seen Will?” Christina asks her. 

“Or Peter?” you add and she makes a face. Both Christina and Tris have never approved of your relationship with Peter. And for good reason. But your staying with him, despite his hard exterior and rude insults, is also for good reason. 

“No, I haven't seen Will, I’m sorry,” she says, “And Peter… Well, last I saw him was in Amity, when he tried to sell us out to Eric.”

You ignore the last part of her sentence - Peter does everything for a reason, even when sometimes you can't explain it.

“You went all the way to Amity?” Christina asks, shocked. “You have to tell us everything.”

“I will,” Tris promises, before she gets swooped away by Tori and you all head back inside. It's not too safe for you to be out here, with all the lies Jeanine is spreading about the Dauntless and Divergents.

Once they get inside, guards take Tris and Four away to a Candor trial using the truth serum used for Candor initiation. You’ve never been under it before, but you've heard much about it. 

Apparently for Candor initiation, you’re forced to spill your deepest, darkest secrets. Seems like hell. 

When Tris spills that she killed Will, you turn to pull Christina into a hug. You’ve known her since you were kids and you’d never seen her as in love as she was with Will. 

You understand your friend’s frustration, she’s just lost the love of her life, but you also understand Tris’s side of things. Really, it's neither of their faults. It’s Jeanine’s.

That anger is what drives you to join the rest of your faction when they team up with the factionless. The whole time you’re wondering where the fuck Peter is and if he’s safe, but you get no closure on that. 

And it seems you never will, because just after you settle in the large makeshift home of the factionless, the little piece of metal in your shoulder puts you in another sim.

Tris watches with horror as you, Hector, and Christina stand over a balcony and deliver Jeanine’s message. She only has a split second before all three of you throw yourself off the balcony and she can only save Hector and Christina.

That night she decides to just go to Erudite’s headquarters, not wanting more innocents to die because of her. It is there she wakes up in a small room to Peter, dressed in an Erudite suit. 

She glares up at him and her eyes burn with tears over you. Over your love for this fucking traitor. Over how the whole time you’d been so concerned and worried on where Peter was, if he was okay, when this whole time he’s been working with the side that made you throw yourself off a building. 

“You know I knew you were stupid, stiff, but I didn't know you were that stupid,” he smirks. “Coming to Erudite willingly? Seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I didn't want more innocents to kill themselves. I’m not worth that much,” she mutters, blinking back tears. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of watching her cry after what he’s done.

“I know. See, it was my idea to do that. Pretty intelligent of me, no?” Peter tells Tris, and it makes her blood boil. “I know you all too well, huh?” he laughs. “Just shows that you can take the girl out of Abnegation but you can't take Abnegation out of the girl.”

“So do you not know or are you just fucking heartless,” she spits at him. Tears are about to fall now, and honestly Tris doesn't care anymore.

“Know what, Stiff?” Peter asks carelessly, not believing she has anything to say that he would care about.

She laughs, but there's no humour in the bitter sound. “You really don't know, huh, Peter.”

“I don't know what, Tris?!” he asks again, but this time lacking the insincere teasing and usual cockiness in his tone.

“You know the whole time, she never stopped asking about you, worrying about you, hoping you were okay. She ignored every attempt at keeping her away from you, every attempt at saying you were a bad person. The whole time, Y/n never stopped loving you.”

At the mention of your name Peter’s heart drops to his feet. How stupid of him to not consider that you would be with Tris. You are friends with her after all, and you are nothing if not kind and loyal.

“What happened to her, Tris?” Peter asks but he knows the answer. 

“Y/n was one of the people under the second simulation. She was one of the people that tried to kill themself.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and tears run down his cheeks. “But… but you saved her right? You’re a stiff, you’re selfless, you’re supposed to save the innocent!” 

By now Peter’s on his knees, too overwhelmed by the pain to stand. But Tris doesn’t take pity on him. Instead, she takes the knife in his chest and drives it deeper. “Y/n loved you, Peter. And she’s dead. Because of you. You killed her, you hear me? This is on you! So I hope you’re happy Peter. I hope whatever the fuck Jeanine offered you was worth it. Was worth Y/n’s life.” 

He chokes on a sob, holding his body as he rocks back and forth. You were his hope, his happiness, his everything. And now you’re gone. 

Peter remembers that you had once told him that grief was like riding a never-ending wave of pain and suffering. Over time, the pain would ease and the suffering would lessen, but you would still be riding that wave, it just got easier. 

He said that he’d never experienced grief before, never ridden that wave. In response, you told him he was lucky, and that if he ever did start to ride that wave, you’d be there for him, you’d be there to help him ride it out. 

But now, as he feels his world crash down around him. As tears fall down his cheeks and the realization hits him, his journey on that wave is starting. It’s starting and you aren't here to help him through it. You aren't here to help him ride it out. And it’s all his fault.

divergent taglist:

@manyfandomsfanvergent

[sergeantsporks]

Writing Request: Darius and Hunter reunion after Hollow mind

Run.

Run.

Run.

Can’t go back.

Can’t go b—

“Hunter!”

Hunter twisted to look behind himself at the call, then turned around just in time to duck a tree branch at Flapjack’s warning chirp.

Someone appeared in front of him, white gloves glowing in the moonlight. “Hunter!”

Hunter skidded to a halt. “Darius?!”

Why is he here? Does he know?! How would he know?!

Hunter held his hands out and warped away as Flapjack landed in them. Darius moved with him, appearing in a bubble of abomination.

“Hunter, wai—”

Hunter warped again, this time to the top of a tree. He won’t follow me up here, he’s too big.

A small abomination formed in the tree next to him with a groan, and Hunter yelped, scrambling away. The branch thinned, and he lost his balance, tumbling out of the tree with a cry. He fumbled for Flapjack, but the shaft of the staff had gotten stuck between branches, and he slammed into the next branch, knocking the breath out of him. He plummeted, then hit something soft.

Darius’ face peered down at him. “Careful.”

Hunter struggled and twisted, wriggling out of Darius’ arms and to the ground with an oof.

“FLAPJACK!”

Hunter scrambled backwards, holding his hand up for his staff.

Darius snatched Flapjack out of the air as he dove down. “Hunter. I just want to talk. Are you hurt?”

Hunter shook his head. “Flapjack—”

Darius released the palisman. “Here. Don’t run.”

The instant Flapjack landed in Hunter’s hands, he warped again. He heard a curse from Darius, and abomination matter swirled around him, sucking him into the ground.

He reappeared in a cave, and Darius molded in front of him, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you made this as difficult as possible. I don’t know why I expected to be able to just approach you.”

“Did Belos send you after me?! Are you here to take me back? To—” Hunter gulped. “T-to—to kill—”

Darius’ face dropped, molding to an expression of horror, and he knelt down, one hand on the ground, and the other tentatively reaching out, but not touching Hunter. “Hunter? What… happened in there?”

“In… the-re?” Hunter’s voice squeaked, “You… know? You know… how do you—the emperor told you?!”

 “No—Hunter, forget the emperor. I’m not here as the coven head. I’m here as Darius. Just me.” Darius sighed. “Let’s start over. Are you hurt?”

Hunter shook his head, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Are you taking me back to the keep?” he shot back.

“Not if I can help it. The human girl—did she make it out?”

“Yes. If Belos didn’t send you to bring me back, why are you here?! How did you know? How…”

A flash of a white glove, the other hand poised in hammer made of abomination material.

“You!” Hunter yelped, “You were the traitor, you were the one I was tracking, you—” He clutched at his hair. “You were…”

Darius reached out again. “Hunter—”

Hunter scrambled backwards. “Don’t touch me,” he yelled, springing to his feet and pacing back and forth. “You’re the reason—you’re the reason—”

“I didn’t mean for you to get involved. You were never supposed to end up in the emperor’s mind, it was never supposed to—”

“This is all your fault,” Hunter burst out, “My uncle tried to kill me, and I saw things I wasn’t supposed to, and I can’t even go home because of you!”

“He tried to kill you?! Of course he did. Of course he—”

“Don’t—” Hunter’s voice broke. “Don’t act like you’re the good guy,” he whispered, “Don’t act like…” Tears started to bubble in his eyes, and he blinked them back. “I can’t go home,” he repeated miserably, “I can’t go home, and it’s your fault!”

Darius threw his hands up. “Oh, okay, so you manage to see the emperor’s deepest, darkest secrets, and he tries to kill you, but I’m the reason you can’t go home?! How can you think anything but the worst of the emperor after all of that?!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Hunter clutched at his head, his breath starting to seize up in his chest again. “You think I don’t know that the—that he—that—that—but I didn’t ask to see any of that, I didn’t want to see any of that, I don’t want—I don’t want—I don’t want to know all of this! But now I do, and I didn’t have to, I wasn’t supposed to, I didn’t go looking, but I know it, and it’s all because of you! Maybe it’s—it’s—maybe it’s my uncle’s fault that I can’t go home, maybe the reason is because he’d kill me, maybe that’s true, but it’s your fault that it happened at all!” Hunter retreated to the far end of the cave, sitting down with a whump and drawing his knees back up to his chest. “I can’t go back,” he mumbled, voice muffled by his knees, “I can’t go back, and I don’t know where to go.”

Flapjack settled on his shoulder with a sad chirp, nestling up against his face.

Darius heaved a heavy sigh. “I truly never intended for you to get involved. If I’d been able to control the circumstances, it would have been me in the emperor’s mind. You never would have known. You would have kept living your life until the day of unity. And I would have stopped Belos’ plan, and I would have explained everything. But that’s not what happened. I can’t change the past, Hunter, but if it means anything at all, I’m sorry that this happened to you. I never wanted for you to find out the truth about Belos like this. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Darius stood back, leaving the cave entrance free and open. “I have a safe house. If you need a place to stay. But… I understand that you’re angry with me. I understand that you might not trust me at the moment. And I understand if you don’t want to see me right now. So if you can think of somewhere else you can bunker down…”

Hunter took in a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re not going to make me go?”

“I’m not going to make you go. If you can think of somewhere you’ll be safe.”

Hunter got up, eying the door. A trap? “You don’t want information about what I saw?”

“You don’t know what we were looking for, you wouldn’t have sought out a way to stop the day of unity. If you do remember anything that might help…” Darius shook his Penstagram scroll at Hunter. “Let me know? And… if you need any help, if you get into a tight spot, contact me, alright, Hunter?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you helping?”

“Because you’re right,” Darius said simply, “Whether it was my intent or not, I’m the reason you’re in this situation. Well, Belos is as well, but I don’t think he’s too keen on taking responsibility in a way that is beneficial to your health. I’m half of the reason your life’s been turned upside down. Which means that you’re my responsibility, now. Oh, and by the way? If you get caught and tortured, I never told you this, but you can trust coven heads Raine and Eberwolf. If I’m tied up, I may send them to help you.”

There were three outlaws.

Darius and Eber had always been thick as thieves, so that was no surprise, but Raine?! As tight a leash as Terra Snapdragon had on them, Hunter was surprised Darius would let them in on this mutiny.

Hunter headed towards the door.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do.”

Hexside.

They multi tracked, they let the owl lady’s student go there, they were hardly best buds with the emperor’s coven. They wouldn’t turn him in, if they found him. Probably. He could take a step back, reassess his options, figure out more about this “grimwalker” thing.

“Do I get to know?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. Stay safe.”

Hunter nodded, holding his hand out for Flapjack.

As if that’s possible.

[angelswing236]

"Do we have a deal?"

Fictober 22 challenge

Fandom: Downton Abbey fanfiction

“Who would you trust to help you cover up a murder?” Mary asked out of the blue.

Tom snorted out a startled laugh. “What? Why? Have you murdered someone?”

“No, of course not! Come on, Tom, we’re stuck on this train for the foreseeable. Play the game.”

“Is it a murder I’ve committed?”

“Yes.”

“And is it someone to help me commit the murder or just cover it up?”

“Oooo, let’s do both.”

Tom thought quickly. “Thomas Barrow. He’s as devious as they come. If anyone could plan a murder and get away with it, it would be Thomas.”

“Interesting. I can’t fault your logic, but I didn’t know you and Barrow were friends.”

“We’re not. Never have been, but he has a well-honed instinct for self-preservation. If he’s in it up to his neck, he’d do everything possible to conceal it. Perfect partner-in-crime material.”

“So, Barrow is your answer to both questions then?”

Tom shook his head. “Not if I’d committed the murder on my own. Thomas would stab his granny in the back if he thought there was something in it for him. He’d definitely rat me out for a reward.”

“So, who would you ask for help covering up this murder you’ve committed?” Mary asked, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Honestly? Probably you,” Tom said, thoughtfully.

“Me? Goodness, I don’t know whether to be pleased or insulted. Why me?”

“Because you’re practical and pragmatic. You think logically and unemotionally. And you care about the family name. You wouldn’t want me dragging it through the mud if I got caught.”

“You make me sound like a hardened criminal! You did forget one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I care about you as well as the family name.”

Tom grinned. “Are you saying you love me enough to help me cover up a murder?”

Mary smiled back at him, her eyes twinkling. “I rather think I do. Especially if the victim was someone like Larry Grey.”

“Oh, Mary, that fair warms the cockles of my heart that does,” Tom said, putting his hand over his chest. “I’ll definitely come to you for help if I ever murder anyone. What about you? Who would you pick?”

“It’s between two.”

“Who’s the first?”

“Carson,” Mary said promptly. “I’m quite sure he would kill someone for me if I asked him, and he would definitely help me cover it up if I’d killed someone. Although he would look painfully disapproving the whole time.”

Tom laughed, picturing that look. “Oh, yes, your staunch champion. He’d definitely murder for you; I’d lay money on that. Who’s the second?”

“You.”

“Ah, Mary, you’d trust me with your deepest, darkest secret? I’m touched.”

“I’d trust you with my life.”

Tom smiled fondly at her.

“So, if either of us murders anyone, we go to the other for help. Do we have a deal?” Mary asked, holding out her hand to shake on it.

Tom grinned, shaking her hand. “Absolutely. Unless you murder Edith. Then you’re on your own.”

[unfoundhoney]

toe the line ; part one ↠

↠ slimecicle x fem!reader ; angst , fluff in future chapters

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ; part four

↠ inspired by this tiktok/scene

“And now,” Charlie announces, “An excerpt from our dear Y/N’s precious diary.”

Your heart stops in your chest.

Charlie is your best friend; he has been for years. You first met online and later moved into an apartment together, which is currently where all your friends are gathered for a small get together.

So, here’s the thing about your journal: it is where you write down the darkest secrets from the depths of your soul. Not to be overdramatic or anything, but you would rather die than have someone read your journal. And if there is one person above all else who should not read any entry in it, it’s Charlie.

You know- you know he’s only teasing. You’re all friends here and you know this isn’t meant to be harmful. As far as Charlie knows, you tell him everything actually important. And you do. He’ll know most of everything that you’ve written in your journal. Except for one thing.

You stand quickly, “Charlie-“

Ted pulls you back onto the couch with a laugh.

“Yes! Let’s learn all of Y/N’s deepest, darkest secrets,” Cooper encourages.

“Guys, seriously,” you protest. “Charlie, give me my journal. Do not-“

They probably think you’re messing around with how serious you’ve gotten all of a sudden. That’s why Ted continues to hold you back and playfully puts a hand over your mouth.

You try to squirm your way out of his hold but it doesn’t work. You can literally feel your heart beating out of your chest as fear seizes at every corner of your mind. You promised yourself that Charlie would never find out about this. He can’t. It’ll ruin everything.

“Ahem. From... ooh, just a few days ago, Y/N wrote: ‘It’s truly tragic, the helplessness of falling in love with a friend. I can’t help it. If I could I would because I’m perfectly okay with how things are. I don’t want things to change.’

“‘And yet it’s like I long for him with every fiber of my being. It’s somehow worse that we’re so close, like I’m constantly lying to myself. It hurts, in a way, to be this close and still unable to be with him how I want. But he means too much to me. I’d rather have him as I do now than lose him entirely.’”

It was probably about halfway through Charlie’s dramatic reading of your journal entry that Ted had mercy on you. You can deal with the humiliation and inevitability that every person in this room knows exactly who you’d written about later, for now you push yourself off the couch and storm over to Charlie, yanking your little black journal from his hands and snapping it shut. Your roommate still has humor in his expression; is he really unaware of anything he’d just read?

“You, my dear sweet Y/N, have a crush,” he says.

Obviously, he is not.

“Yeah, great job, Sherlock,” you bite out.

The embarrassment of feeling everyone’s eyes on you only adds fuel to the fire burning angrily in your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter together as the backs of your eyes sting.

“Who’s the lucky guy to have finally captured your heart?” Charlie asks with a teasing smile.

“It’s no one.”

“Oh, come on-“

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No.”

“Who is it?”

“Stop.”

Charlie playfully punches your arm, “Who is it? You can tell me.”

You fall silent. Any anger you had has fizzled out extraordinarily fast, leaving you with an empty, throbbing ache in your chest. You stare at Charlie as tears creep along your waterline, daring to fall as the sinking realization hits you: there’s no way out of this.

There is no clever bit or joke to save you from your guts being spilled on the floor in front of Charlie, who had just unknowingly dragged a knife across your abdomen. Your hands cover the wound but blood seeps between your fingers. There’s no stopping it.

You stare at Charlie, silently begging him to at least stop talking. Your face is hot with embarrassment; Charlie has made it perfectly clear how there is absolutely no chance of him ever seeing you as you see him. Even after reading your innermost thoughts aloud, it’s still so far off the table for him to be interested in you that he can’t even put it together for several long moments.

When he finally gets it, Charlie’s expression changes. His teasing and his humor is gone, replaced with surprise and regret. You can tell just how hard it hits him: he should not have read that.

“Oh,” he says softly.

You look away.

It’s silent for way too long to be comfortable. Awkwardness permeates the air. You feel like crying. Not only did you just unwillingly confess to your best friend, but all of your friends were there to watch.

It’s Ted who speaks up first, “Alright, well, we should all leave immediately. Thanks for having us, you two.”

As quickly as possible, your friends flee your apartment, shoving feet into shoes, grabbing jackets, and leaving with hurried goodbyes. Soon the door has shut resolutely behind them and the apartment falls quiet. You and Charlie have yet to move.

Charlie takes a breath, preparing to speak but faltering before he makes a sound. He flounders with his mouth open for a moment then utters, “W-Why- why did you-...?”

“I can’t talk to anyone about it, so I write about it instead,” you say. “You weren’t supposed to read it.”

This was a secret you were supposed to take to the grave. Charlie was never supposed to know you’ve been in love with him since before you even met in person. He wasn’t supposed to know how not only have your feelings remained after all this time, but they’ve grown stronger. You don’t want him to know.

“I’m sorry,” is all Charlie can think to say.

“Little late for that, isn’t it?”

Maybe that was a little petty, but you think it’s deserving seeing as it is entirely his fault that any of this has happened.

When you finally look back at Charlie, the surprise and the regret is clear but there’s also an unsure awkwardness. You hate that the most. You two are comfortable with each other. You never feel awkward; you get along so well it’s weird and now he’s looking at you like he doesn’t even know you. You can’t stay here any longer.

“I’m making burritos later, if you want any,” you say, beginning your retreat into your bedroom.

“Y/N, wait,” Charlie says, “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and pretend nothing happened.”

“I didn’t!” you exclaim. “You dropped the bomb, Charlie! Not me. If it were up to me, you never would have found out.”

“So... what? You were just going to never tell me?”

“Yes!”

“How would that have worked out?”

“Judging on the last three years, pretty fine.”

“The last three...”

Charlie’s voice fails him, too shocked at the realization of how long you’ve kept this from him, of how well you’ve hidden it. As much as Charlie would love to let you hide in your room then pretend like none of this ever happened, he knows that’s not what needs to happen.

“Y/N, I don’t- I don’t see you like... that,” he says.

“I don’t need a rejection, Charlie,” you say. “There’s a reason I’ve never told you.”

Charlie again has no words. His feelings for you are clear: you have never been anything more than a great friend to him; you will never be more than a great friend to him. You know and have come to terms with that.

You start towards your bedroom again. This time, Charlie doesn’t try to stop you. He does call out to you one last time before you shut the door behind you.

“I am sorry.”

You’re stood over the threshold of your bedroom, looking back at your best friend. You hesitate in responding. Charlie expects a “me, too” or “I’m sorry, too” or something. Instead, you say,

“I know. And I wish I could be.”

You close your bedroom door, leaving Charlie still standing in the living room where he had been when he read your journal. Now, the room is vacated save for himself, hands empty and a feeling in his chest to match, wondering what your response could mean.

[valberryy]

oh, eurydice (it's an awful sound). — venti

de l'autre côté de l'eau, comme un écho. / tu dis que c'est la fin du monde, c'est ton silence mon eau profonde.

um,, idk what to say cause i dont want this to b my venti summoning post but. anyways. also tagging @starfell-traveler look i finished it!!!! b proud of me /hj

pairing: venti x gn!reader

content warnings: mentions/descriptions of alcohol & blood/injuries, major character death, it's just heavy angst i'm sorry

one.

Venti still remembers the first time he heard you laugh, warm and clear and bright, like the chiming of cathedral-bells.

In those golden days when he was getting used to his new face, he often found himself wandering—much to the chagrin of his friends. If he wasn't in one of the many taverns of the newly-built Mondstadt, he was wandering these new, free lands.

And that was how he met you, the spritely scion of house Gunnhildr, who had strayed away from your envoy with a bottle of wine and leaves in your hair. He noted the mischief dancing in your eyes, the sunlight dappling on your skin, the way your mouth formed a small "o" when you saw you were not alone.

Your eyes had lit up when you caught sight of him. "Oh, my lord!" you called, "Fancy a cup and a chat, perhaps?"

Venti stood still for a moment to ponder your request, but at the sound of you popping the cork off the bottle and pouring it into a cup you had brought, he found his resolve weakening. He took a seat next to you as you pulled a stray leaf from your hair, taking a sip from your cup before passing it to him.

How brazen of you, he mused.

While cherry wine, in his opinion, could never hold a candle to the dandelion wine he had grown fond of, it tasted all the sweeter coming from you.

You had laughed at this sentiment of his, clear as the water from the lake nearby. "Is that so?" you asked. "Perhaps I'll bring some more of this kind especially for you, dearest bard."

Venti responded with a playful pluck at his lyre-strings. "I'd prefer if you called me by my name, young master Gunnhildr."

"And what would that be?"

Just as he was about to respond, the two of you caught wind of voices yelling out your name, and you flinched. "That must be for me," you said. "I shouldn't have expected to be able to hide forever."

He helped you stand, stretching out his arm to pull you up—your hand was soft and warm against his own, and the "thank you," that rolled from your lips made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to.

"I'd love to see you again," you said, and he smiled.

"You talk as if this is goodbye forever!" Venti joked. "We can meet here again, if you so wish."

"Then it is done," you said, and squeezed his hand as if in confirmation of your new arrangement.

And with the lightest press of your wine-stained lips to his cheek, you had run off without another word—only the sound of your distant laughter and, "Sorry, sorry! I'm back now, mother!" left in your wake.

two.

That promise had soon become habit, and habit a new way of life—one wherein you would sneak away from the rest of your family to rendezvous with Venti in the forest, to share wine and song and sweet, honeyed words alike.

(And as time wore on, you pressed your wine-stained lips to more places than just his cheek, and the cheeky bastard would have you do it again, and again, and again.)

"What d'you reckon your family would say if they figured out you were sneaking away for this?" Venti mused, "Like a hero in a romance novel."

With a laugh, you lay your head over his lap and smiled when his hand came to rest in your hair, his fingers gently playing with the strands. "Scold me, I suppose," you said. "There are worse fates than not being allowed outside for a month, my love." 

You plucked a stray dandelion out of his hair, blowing the seeds to the wind. 

"Hmm? And what would those be, I wonder?"

"...You're so infuriating, Venti," you grumbled, and he simply laughed and took another sip of wine—elderflower this time, tasting like spring upon his tongue. "I can't even dare imply that I want to be with you forever without you teasing me for it—what kind of lover are you? Hmph."

He paused, a teasing grin growing on his lips despite your previous words. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

An odd noise left your throat. "I mean," you said, "unless you want me to take your surname instead? ...Now that I think about it, Venti Gunnhildr doesn't quite sound the best."

A laugh, first from him, soon followed by one of your own. "Your family won't allow it, would they? But if the fates allow…there's nothing I'd love more than to be with you," he said. Gently he untangled his fingers from your hair, weaving his fingers between your own instead. "That is, if you want it too?"

A world of just you and him, a life where he would never have to stray far from your side—perhaps this was what Amos so desperately craved for, in those days. Venti watched as you removed the signet ring from your pointer finger and fit it snugly on his own, admiring your handiwork and smiling up at him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

three.

Somehow it felt odd to see you in clothes other than the casual attire he had always seen you in. When you were seated upon your horse like this, dressed in richly-dyed leathers and embroidered silks with your family crest hanging proudly from your breast pocket, you seemed much less like the cheeky [Name] that would pluck his lyre from his hands to play your own tune, and more like the young scion of house Gunnhildr that the rest of the world saw you as.

"I'm sorry, dearest," you said, your voice thick with regret. "They only told me about this last night, so I've had no time to tell you… And father wouldn't let me refuse, so—"

Venti laughed, "When did you become such a worrywart? It's only one round of hunting, right? I'll be waiting for you back here."

You huffed, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Then I'll be sure to hurry on back to you."

He pulled you back down for another kiss, square on the lips this time, before letting you go. "Don't miss!" he said, calling after your horse, to which you turned and yelled back at him,

"If I do, it's your fault!"

He laughed, settling down beneath a tree and closing his eyes. You'd be there to wake him when you returned.

When Venti awoke, it was not to your hand shaking his shoulder but to a thud and the worried whinnying of a horse. His eyes snapped open as you groaned, one hand clutching your stomach and the other propping you up. When you caught his gaze you smiled weakly, too much blood in your teeth and not enough light in your eyes.

"I'm back, dearest," you said, and he had stumbled over to catch you before your arm gave out.

He pressed down on your torso, where three large gashes ran down from your chest down to your stomach, large and jagged as if from the claws of a bear. You groaned in pain and he pressed a kiss to your hand in apology, your skin pale and clammy in a way that reminded him too much of harsh, cold winds and a boy with his lyre. 

"You should've seen me, Venti," you breathed, "I shot it right in the throat…are you proud of me?"

"Very," he said. "I'll always be proud of you."

You laughed, broken and pained and sad. "Good," you said, "good." Then you looked up at him, the tears welling in his eyes, the reality of his fate—your fate—finally looming upon him. "Don't look at me like that, love," you cooed. "Please, smile for me, okay? Sing for me…can you spare me at least that much?"

His grip on your hand tightened. "All of that and so much more, dandelion," he said. "Please…"

"So much more, huh…" you mused. "Then, how about one last kiss before I go?"

"...You talk as if this is goodbye," he says, but doesn't protest when you pull him down by the collar, your red-stained lips pressing weakly against his—

—But instead of the sweetness of wine, there was only the sharp bitterness of your blood in his mouth.

four.

"How far would you go for me?" was something Venti had thrown around a lot, never expecting you to give him a straight answer—not with how you shoved his shoulder and said, "Just because there wasn't a ceremony doesn't mean I'm not your spouse, Venti. Wouldn't the answer be obvious?"

But he still recalled the first time he had asked you and the first time you answered, your fingers tangled with his and your head buried in the crook of his neck. Your voice had been softer, gentler, lacking the playful edge but just as genuine as always, "From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest to the highest peaks in the sky," you said, "Until my hands wither away into dust."

"Maybe you're the bard instead of me, love," he had said, then.

In this new world without you he found himself clinging to whatever remnants of you he could—the dappled sunlight in the forest, the slightest sting of alcohol going down, the glint of your family crest on the ring that adorned his finger.

One of his many laments was how he could never mourn you in the way he felt you deserved—he had not the power to turn back time, lacked the dominion over anything static and permanent to immortalise you with. He only had his lyre and his voice and his winds, and all he could do was paint the skies grey in his grief, have the gales sing requiems that you would never hear.

From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest peaks in the sky he would go for you and back—and if the darkest depths of this world contained the secret to getting you back, perhaps even a mere spirit on the wind could bear the trek through the dark. 

(After all, Venti knew in his heart of hearts that you would have done the same for him.)

The heart of the Abyss wasn't a land of mindless bloodshed and fire—it was cold and calculating, like a predator lying in wait. It was this place, in the depths of Teyvat and in the winding depths of their palace, that he knew could somehow bring you back to him. 

"Are you the one for whom the skies wept, bard?"

Venti swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I am," he said. "I want a deal."

The person before him raised an eyebrow, canting their head to the side. 

"One life," they said, "and no second chances."

Cold, and calculating, and inevitable—but still he would try. Venti owed you at least that much, no?

five.

He squeezed your hand as you trailed behind him, muttering to himself: don't look back, don't look back, don't look back. No matter how much he longed to hold you, to see your face and feel your skin beneath his, he kept his gaze to his feet as you both moved onwards into the dark.

(When he saw you again, just as beautiful as the day he lost you, he dropped his lyre to run into your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck and surrounding himself with only you, you, you. 

"Venti," you said, and he nearly wept at the way his name rolled from your tongue. "Let's go home.")

You squeezed his hand back, so gently that he almost couldn't believe you were really there. "Why don't you sing me a song, dearest?" you quipped. "Anything you like."

In spite of himself, in spite of the cold around him and behind him and in his own hand, he smiled. "Have I ever sung you the one with the mist flower and the sparrow?"

He heard you huff behind him. "That one again? You know how bad I am at hitting the notes in that!"

"Hmm, sure, sounds like an excuse to me…"

"Venti!"

He laughed and squeezed your hand again, as if to remind himself—you were here, and he was taking you home, and you would be able to feel the sun on your skin and taste wine from his cup in the way you had always loved. He would be able to write you songs and guide your hands across his lyre, and he need never stray far from your side.

You need never go somewhere where he couldn't follow.

"We're almost there," he said, resisting the urge to turn around to smile at you. "There's a bottle of wine waiting for us. It wouldn't do us any good to leave it for too long, you know?"

He squeezed your hand again, but you didn't respond.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. His footsteps hastened, quicker and quicker until he was near-running towards where he knew the surface lay. Had he been tricked? Were you never there all along? Had you gotten lost, or fallen, or left, and left some other person in your stead?

Anxiety clutched at his heart like brambles, and Venti found his mind wandering back to those days with the wintery winds and the friends he had lost to the storms. Not again, he prayed, please, never again.

He ran until his legs ached, ran until the first drop of sunlight finally kissed his skin, and he let go of your hand to turn around—

—to see your face still shrouded in darkness, your eyes wide, your hand still reaching out for him.

"What?" he breathed, "No, please, I can't lose you again—"

You smiled, and though your teeth weren't coated in blood and your body was free from any wounds, Venti's heart had sunk even further than when he had caught you that day. 

"No, love, please, I'm sorry—"

"Venti," you said, "I'll see you again soon, okay?"

"Please—"

"I love you." 

With whatever time you had left, you reached out further to brush the tips of your fingers against his cheek. "Smile for me, okay? Sing me one last song…" 

And before he could reach out to you again, you had once again gone somewhere he couldn't reach. 

(Yours was a song he sang without end, even when all of Mondstadt had forgotten your name—and even when he felt like he didn't deserve to bear your memory. 

On days when he uncorked a bottle of cherry wine or caught the Acting Grandmaster's eye, Venti found himself staring down at the ring you had placed on his finger in those golden days—and if he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to it the way you had done to him, he swears he can still hear your laugh, warm and clear and bright.)

[90spumkin]

Invisible

Request:  hi can you please do a spencer reid x bau fem reader and can it based on the song invisible by 5sos where the reader feels like she is invisible because everybody talks over her and trips her and nobody does anything.also they hate her besides spencer, rossi, penelope and hotch and they hate her because of jj because she is jealous of how the reader and spencer are close together so one day the reader gets kidnapped and is forced to read her song journal or her journal.so spencer gets mad at the team when they try to confront him

A/N: I really hope this is what you were looking for when you made the request. I hope it’s not absolute trash. Thank you for the request anon! The song that was apart of the request is Invisible by 5 Seconds of Summer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader

Warnings: slight swearing, angst I think, description of torture 

Word Count: 1875

It was a nice sunny day in Virginia, one of its less humid days. That should be a sign it was going to be a good day, right? Wrong, y/n had a bad gut feeling it was going to be a very bad day. Worse than normal.

Y/n was sitting in the BAU parking garage watching a few people from her team walk in the building. Emily, JJ, and Morgan were genuinely nice people…except to y/n. They hadn’t always been rude or distant towards her that just started up recently, and y/n knew why. She took a deep breath and exited her car, making her way inside the same way the others had.

She knew her gut feeling was right as soon as she walked through the double glass doors. She tried to make a beeline for her desk, keeping her head low to avoid eye contact. Things didn’t go as planned.

Y/n tripped over a box of files bumping into Morgan who bumped into Emily who spilled coffee all down the front of her white blouse. Y/n instantly started to panic, “Oh my God, Emily I am so sorry! I’ll get some towels!”

Emily gritted her teeth and just said, “Don’t!”, she stormed off grabbing her go bag to change out of her now ruined blouse. Morgan just huffed and made his way to his desk.

Y/n made it to her desk finally with no other accidents. She sat down and put her head in her hands trying to choke back a sob. She felt a presence next to her but didn’t look up till she felt a hand on her shoulder, “Y/n are you okay?”

She looked up to see Spencer Reid standing before her with a worried look on his face. She gave him a small smile. He didn’t seem convinced due to the worry line between his eyebrows deepening. They stared at each other a little longer than what was probably necessary. JJ got their attention by walking by waving files and announcing, “We’ve got a case.”

Y/n saw JJ pause and look at Spencer’s hand on her shoulder and gave y/n a quick glare before continuing her way to the round table room. Spencer moved his hand and started to trail behind JJ while having a conversation with Morgan. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure she was following and when he went to wait for her, she shook her hand urging him on without her.

Why was it so hard to push him away? She knew the others no longer liked her because of how close the two of them had gotten. They felt as if she was stealing Spencer from them when all she wanted was to be friends with them all. She let out the second sigh of the day and made her way to the briefing, falling in step with Hotch and Rossi who both gave her a warm smile.

The briefing went by in a flash. It was a whirlwind of information and thoughts being bounced back and forth, and like always y/n’s insight was overlooked. The flight went by just as fast. After going over the files and new information from the bubbly Garcia, y/n had gone to sit at the back of the plane. The entire time ignoring Spencer’s worried glances.

Once they arrived at their destination, the team split off to do their assignments given by Hotch. Y/n was with Spencer putting together the victimology. The whole time she felt his eyes on her, but she never said a word hoping some how she would become invisible to him like she was to the others.

She didn’t realize how much time had passed when they got a call from Hotch telling them they were closer to the warehouse Garcia had said belong to one of the suspects. They grabbed their vest and took off as fast as humanly possible.

The warehouse was a dark and looming building and y/n felt the hairs on her neck stand up. Spencer walked around the SUV and said, “There’s no time to wait for the others we’re going to have to split up. Meet me in the back, okay?” She nodded and went to scope out the left side of the build, but Spencer grabbed her hand and search her eyes for a moment before giving her hand a quick squeeze and letting go.

She crept around the building, gun aimed and eyes looking for any sign of movement. She thought she heard something behind her, but when she turned, she was met with absolutely nothing. She turned to continue her way towards the back of the building, and that’s when everything went black.

Y/n woke with an ache on the left side of her head and she was pretty sure there was blood running down her face. She was tied to a chair in a big empty room with a light fixture hanging above her. Once her eyes fully focused, she realized there was a camera aimed towards her and man standing behind it.

“Ah you’re awake. Time to have some fun.”, his voice was raspy like he smoked 50 packs of cigarettes a day. Y/n knew the unsub liked to toy with his victims, she saw all the videos in the time before the call from Hotch. He was going to torture her darkest thoughts and deepest secrets from her. Y/n’s lips tingled, and her stomach twisted into knots.

“I know you know what’s about to happen, but I found something that’s going to make this a little more interesting.”, the unsub walked around the camera showing it the journal he held in his hand.

----

Spencer was absolutely frantic, there was no other way to describe it. He felt so stupid for splitting up from y/n. It was his fault she was kidnapped, and it was his fault they were seeing her on the screen. The others were rushing around and he could hear them talking to Garcia trying to figure out where he was keeping her.

On the screen the unsub was waving around a book and Spencer could see the pleading in y/n’s eyes. At the sound of the smack that went across y/n’s face everyone stopped.

“You’re going to read this so your little team watching this really knows what you think of them.”, the unsub was gripping y/n’s jaw tightly. She shook her head viciously which landed another smack across her already bruised cheek.

Tears stung Spencer’s eyes and he said, “We need to find her now!”. JJ put her hand on his arm trying to calm him, but he shrugged it off, “Don’t touch me.”

He turned back towards the screen at the sound of y/n’s broken voice, “Um the first part is part of a song. No one sees me I fade away, lost inside a memory of someone's life It wasn't mine Just me and my shadow and all of my regrets Who am I? Who am I when I don't know myself? Who am I? Who am I? Invisible Wasted days, dreaming of the times I know I can't get back.”. She stopped reading which earned her a cut down the side of her neck, she let out an ear shattering scream. Spencer turned away and looked at Hotch begging him for something. Hotch just shook his head, they don’t have a clue where he was keeping her.

Y/n continued reading but Spencer could no longer watch so he listened, “I never meant to upset anyone. I wanted to belong; I want to be everyone’s friend. I guess I became friends with the wrong person first. JJ was the first to become my friend, but when I told her- when I told her I was crushing on a certain young doctor, that’s when she decided to make my life a living hell. I’m invisible now. My thoughts don’t matter, I don’t matter. I no longer know why I try.”

Y/n stopped and started to beg not to read anymore. Spencer couldn’t move, he could only glare at the woman who claimed to be his best friend. She knew he had feeling for y/n and yet she chose to be cruel to her and keep them apart.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Garcia’s voice through the speakers of the tablet laying on the table telling them she has an address of the unsub’s parent’s lake house. Just like that the team stormed out of the police station in a blur of grim faces and vests.

----

With every word she read, y/n felt as if acid was being poured down her throat. She had paused once again and this time the unsub slammed the journal shut in anger and aggravation.

“That’s it I’m bored.”, and before she knew it there was a rope around her throat and her lugs were burning as she gasped for breath. Her vision began to blur, and darkness was surrounding her mind. Before she passed out, she heard a shout ring out and saw a flash of blonde hair.

When y/n woke up she winced in pain and at the fluorescent lights above her. She let out a groan as she tried to sit up. There was a hand on her shoulder as someone said, “Hey woah take it easy.”

Y/n realized it was JJ and it took everything in her not to flinch away, “What are you doing here?”. There was sadness in the petite blonde woman’s eyes. She glanced down at the floor than back up at y/n as she said, “I’m so sorry for everything that I put you through, what I influenced the others to put you through. I don’t have a good excuse or reason to why I did it, but hearing you saying all those things it broke something in me. Can you ever forgive me?” Tears began to stream down her face as she asked for forgiveness.

Y/n finally saw a glimpse of the woman she had met on her first day at the BAU. She gave her a real smile and nod. Both women let out little chuckles which made the buddle of limbs in the chair in the corner of the room stir. Y/n hadn’t realized Spencer was there asleep. JJ stood to leave saying, “I’ll give you guys some space to talk.”

As soon as Spencer realized y/n was awake he raced to her side mumbling and repeating himself, “I am so so sorry, y/n. I should never have left you.” Y/n grabbed his hands that were clinging to her, “Spencer it’s okay. I’m okay. Nothing that has happened is your fault.”

Spencer turned his head away from her, she brought her hand to his cheek turning him back towards her, “Hey it’s okay I promise.”

“It’s not just that, I didn’t realize how much you were struggling with the others. I want you to know they aren’t going to hurt you anymore, no one will ever hurt you again. I love you, y/n.” He kissed the palm of her hand that was resting on his cheek.

She smiled down at him and she finally felt peace as she said, “I know. I love you too.”

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part II

Part I (complete)

Part III (complete)

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

Making deals with a vampire was one thing, (Y/N) supposed, but fulfilling such a deal was quite another.

When Zeke— who held the contradictory position of the regional Commander of the Hunters as well as the alpha of a local werewolf pack— had approached her with the idea of infiltrating Eren Jaeger's inner circle, she had jumped at the chance; her great-to-however-many-degrees grandfather really had been Jean Kirschtein, and she had read his old journal, and her curiosity about the Old Ways was always bubbling just beneath her skin. Zeke, she thought, must have known of her curiosity, because his offer had been everything she was searching for.

You'll have your answers, he told her, And we'll have ours. One way or another, the problem of Eren Jaeger will be solved through your efforts. There is no possible way to lose.

If only she had known how wrong Zeke had been.

At first, things with Eren were simple— well, as simple as things could be with such a delicate arrangement. It had been beyond easy to bait him into approaching her at the Creature bar on 76th Street, and aside from the first time, allowing time for Eren to feed was almost nothing. Even the process of feeding itself wasn't much of an ordeal— there was hardly any pain since he drew from her wrist after a warm soak, and the whole thing took less than five minutes— but around the second time, when the visions began, things began to be… different.

Little snippets of Eren's past began to come as the two of them interacted more and increased the amount of regular feedings. Sometimes it was as little as a feeling, a memory of a face that (Y/N) had never seen before; other times, it was like (Y/N) was truly there centuries ago, in a land that would one day become her home. Now, almost every time she let Eren drink from her, she was thrust back into a world where humanity was (literally) with it's back against the wall, fighting demons and mindless monsters just to survive; and, sometimes, the visions were so intense that she would come back from them terrified, shaking, and incapable of cogent thought. It was during those times that Eren held her, silent, resigned, and yet somehow caring until she was herself again.

It was strange; in the visions, Eren was often passionate to a fault. He was wild, like an animal, but kind, too. During times like these, when he cradled her in his arms as she was trembling with the force of a particularly poignant memory, (Y/N) wondered if the centuries had truly changed him, or if he hid that passion beneath the jaded indifference she had come to expect.

"You think too much," he told her as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Your heart is racing."

Of course it was— the terror of watching hundreds of people be consumed by the very wrath of hell itself would do that to a person— but (Y/N) had no rebuttal. She did think too much, and the end result was muddled reports sent back to Zeke and a clouded heart.

"You loved her."

It was a statement, not a question. Mikasa— the brave, beautiful woman that Jean Kirschtein had once loved— may not have always known it, but Eren truly had felt very deeply for her.

"More than life," Eren replied.

(Y/N) thought back to the memory— the sheer panic Eren had felt at the thought of losing his comrades, the desperation with which he strove to save them— and she amended her statement.

"You loved them all."

Eren hummed.

"More than the wide, wide world."

And (Y/N) thought that, perhaps, he truly meant it.

"What did you see this time?" he asked, his voice soft.

(Y/N) pulled back so that she and Eren were face to face, her legs straddling him. His eyes were glowing-green, and she shivered beneath their scrutiny.

"I saw a field full of demons," she told him, unable to meet his gaze. "You and Mikasa were defenseless, yourself having been pushed to your limit, and Mikasa's blades having been broken. There was nowhere to run, and you— you screamed, and—"

A large, warm hand caressed her cheek, and it occurred to (Y/N) that it was her own blood within Eren that gave him such warmth with which to comfort. She placed her smaller hand atop his, and the world seemed to freeze for a moment to allow this brief, intimate interlude.

"Do you understand now?" he asked as he did almost every time she had a vision. "Do you see why I did what I did?"

As always, (Y/N) shook her head, moving his hand from her face.

"No, I don't."

The response was never met with anger or frustration; Eren was only ever resigned to it. Before, (Y/N) might have felt scorn for such a man who cared so little, but now that she had seen who Eren had been, what he'd been through… perhaps he was simply tired of caring so much.

"You're beautiful when you're thinking."

The words caught (Y/N) off guard. She had known that Eren had thought she was attractive— his emotional feedback told her that much— but she had never thought that he would voice such a thought. The compliment heated her cheeks, and (Y/N) had to fight the urge to bury her face in her hands.

"I've always thought," said Eren, speaking slowly, choosing his words carefully, "That one can never truly appreciate the beauty of a blush until one could see it with the eyes of a vampire, or smell it as it rises on the cheek."

Eren placed a hand on her face, tilting it until their eyes were level.

"And as a vampire who has seen many beautiful blushes on many beautiful women, yours is the most bewitching of all."

(Y/N) swallowed thickly.

"Why are you saying this?"

Eren cocked his head to the side, studying her. It was a long moment before he spoke, but when he did, he gave an answer that (Y/N) was not expecting.

"Because it's true, and because I would very much like to kiss you."

(Y/N)'s heart leapt into her throat, but she didn't dare move one way or the other. She just stared at Eren, slack-jawed, as he stared patiently back.

"Why?" she asked when she had collected herself.

Eren shrugged. "Does that matter?"

(Y/N) supposed very much that it did matter, but she didn't feel the need to say so. She studied Eren closely— the latent hunger in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the stain of her blood on his lips— and she thought of how gentle he had been with her, how patient. She had no doubt that he would prove to be equally so in other matters, and she wanted him— but something stopped her.

It would be wrong of me to allow this, she thought, letting her eyes wander to Eren's lips. I'm his enemy, a spy for the Hunters. Allowing him and myself the potential of intimacy is too deep a betrayal, even for me.

Even so, she didn't stop him as he shifted her closer; even so, when his lips brushed hers, she kissed him back, tasting her own blood on his tongue.

"This is a bad idea," she whispered against his lips, shifting in his lap.

"How young you are," he said in return. "There is no such thing as a bad idea, only poor timing and execution. Take it from someone who has centuries of experience; rarely ever is the regret for having done something greater than the regret of not having done it."

So saying, he kissed her again, and (Y/N) threaded her hands in his hair as he reached beneath her shirt. His hands— warm, now, with the heat of her own blood— reached beneath the cup of her bra to cradle her breasts, and she exhaled a hiss as his fingertips found her nipples. She arched into him, pressing her flesh into his hands and parting their lips; he chuckled, dark and low, and she shivered at the sound.

"How many other Creatures have you tricked like this?" he asked, pressing kisses against her neck. "Tell me, pretty girl— just how many have fallen prey to your charms so that you can run back to your little doggy master with their deepest, darkest secrets?"

(Y/N) froze, stuck somewhere between fear, dread, and ecstasy. Eren knew— somehow, he knew— and yet he continued to touch her, kiss her, caress her as though nothing were amiss. Her whole body went still with shock, but Eren never stopped even for a moment.

"Come now, you can't think I didn't know." His lips were just below her ear now, and he closed his teeth around the lobe, teasing her with the sensation. "I can smell him on the papers in your bag; I can hear the clicking of the letters as you type your memos after I've pieced you back together for an evening. Most of all, I can hear the way your heart pumps a little faster when I feed you the information you want. I can taste your guilt in the very blood I take from you. You can hide nothing from me."

"Eren," she said as fear— rancid and terrible— began crawling up the back of her throat, "Eren, please, I haven't told him about the important things, I'm trying to make a case for you—"

He pulled away then, and when his piercing green eyes locked with her own, she stilled like a sparrow caught in the gaze of a cobra.

"I don't care," he replied simply. "You are what you are, and at your core, you cannot change that. It is the same with me. I'm not afraid of my half-mutt half-brother no matter what you tell him, and as long as you want what I have to offer, there's no reason not to take it for your own."

(Y/N)'s mind was reeling.

"Half-brother?"

Eren chuckled at her confusion.

"Oh yes, pretty one. Zeke Jaeger is my older brother, and I suspect he sent you to me just to you with the both of us." With a carnivorous grin, he added, "But little does he know that I play for keeps, and you're not the good little Huntress he must assume you are— that is to say, he must have no clue at all how hungry you are for vampire cock, hm?"

(Y/N) would be lying if she hadn't pictured Eren in… less than appropriate situations, but for fuck's sake, she wasnt blind. The man— vampire, Creature, whatever— was fucking gorgeous, and he damn well knew it, but that didn't mean she was gagging for it.

Did it?

"We can't do this," she said, pushing at Eren's chest, though he didn't budge an inch. "We shouldn't do this."

Eren cracked a grin, toothy with fangs that glistened.

"Says who?" he asked, his large, strong hands coming around to grab her by the ass. "You were perfectly fine with letting me kiss and touch when you thought I was in the dark— is it no longer any fun now that you don't feel like you're taking advantage of me?"

(Y/N) couldn't take it.

"Eren, be serious—"

"I am serious."

When she looked in his eyes and reached out with her own heart, (Y/N) knew that he was telling the truth. He wanted her regardless of anything, regardless of everything.

He simply wanted her.

Could that be so bad?

***

Eren didn't think that this would happen even in his wildest dreams, but when he saw (Y/N) splayed out on his gold silk sheets, he knew it wasn't the madness that Armin accused him of lying to himself about. No mind, well and whole or not, could ever conjure up such a vision. The woman who lay before him— naked and gorgeous— was beyond imagining. She was something from another world entirely.

"What are you doing?" she asked, puzzled as Eren stood over her, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. "Come hold me."

And how lovely was that? His natural enemy, his perfect prey, asking him to come hold her, as though his skin on hers was blessed assurance that he was there and wanting.

Maybe Eren was mad— or, perhaps he was dreaming. If he was, he hoped he never came back to himself. A world without this was not a world he ever wanted to return to.

"Yes," she hissed as he crawled atop her, his mouth suckling at her breast. No other creature that walked the earth could ever taste as sweet as her— having tasted many, many before, Eren would know— but even were that to be disproved, Eren wasn't sure he would much care. This woman would be his undoing.

"Touch me," she demanded, canting her hips up to him. "I want to feel you."

How could Eren ever deny her? He brought a hand down to her sex, caressing her there before parting her folds to quest for her clit. Having found it, he drew small, teasing circles, and she whined.

"Am I still a monster to you?" he asked into the hollow of her throat, placing biting kisses there as his hand kept busy with its work. "Still something to hate and abhor?"

"You're still a monster," she replied, so startlingly honest even now, "But I never once hated you. Oh Eren, please, I want you inside me, I—"

Her wish was his command; Eren plunged two fingers into her depths, and (Y/N) gasped at the intrusion. She was so wet already, and so tempting as she squeezed down on those fingers, rocking her hips as he withdrew them just to the tip and repeated the motion. The way she felt around his digits shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did, but as Eren slid in a third finger, he had to keep himself from letting out a groan.

"You're so beautiful," he told her as she writhed beneath him. "You truly, truly are."

Distantly, Eren wondered what Jean would think if he were alive to know who was finger-fucking his great-granddaughter, but when Eren remembered the nasty right hooks the taller man used to give him when he was being a shit, he figured that he would rather not know. Still, as he watched (Y/N) come undone on the tip of his fingers, he couldn't help but think that perhaps it was something of Jean's spirit— the part that even Eren had to admit was better, kinder, more human than most— that drew him to her.

"I want you," he said, withdrawing his hands and licking his fingers clean of her juices. "Do you feel ready enough?"

And then, as though to prove his point, (Y/N) sat straight up with the cutest little Jean-like scowl he had ever seen and pushed at his chest with no small amount of force. He went with the motion, and he found himself being mounted by her as she said,

"I'm not made of glass— if you can't wrap your head around that, I'll have to show you just what I'm capable of."

She did— and how! Powerful thighs— the thighs of a Hunter— levered her up and down on his cock, squeezing him until he thought he might die from it. He thought she was never going to stop impaling herself again and again, and by the time she did eventually tire, Eren was sort of hoping she never would. He was in ecstasy with her, and like the selfish bastard he was, he wanted it to last forever.

"Such fire," he said, reaching up to press kisses into the skin just between her breasts. "You've made your point, now let me take over."

Let me take care of you.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted as he thrust up into her, the head of his cock buried so deeply within her that he marveled at how she didn't seem to be feeling any discomfort. "Oh fuck, right there, please don't stop—"

Eren didn't stop; he couldn't. He was beyond restraint.

"May I?" He asked, tapping the wrist that was trapped in his right hand. "I won't take much, but I want to show you something."

Delirious, drunk with lust, (Y/N) nodded, and Eren pierced her skin with a single fang, letting a drop of blood fall onto his tongue. In that moment, as they connected physically, her blood connected them spiritually, and Eren groaned as he physically felt how close she was through the link he had created.

It wouldn't be long now.

"Oh, fuck!" she cried, and Eren buried himself as deeply as he could within her as he came. "Oh, oh, oh—"

And then (Y/N) was following him, shaking and gasping as her orgasm overtook her. It seemed that the world had stopped existing for a moment, and Eren found it hard to breathe even though he had no particular need to do so at all.

In the afterglow, they clung to each other like the survivors of a shipwreck; when the world began to exist again, it felt new, and as Eren closed his eyes to sleep, he knew that this changed everything.

I must keep her, he thought as sleep overtook him. I don't know if I could feel like this ever again for anyone else.

[youresog0lden]

Call Out My Name || S.R

Word Count: 2.1K 

Summary: being kidnapped was never easy and neither was being in love

Tagging: @doctorthreephds​

Warnings: cursing, kidnapping, nightmares, mentions of being kidnapped. 

Masterlist

Based off this post

I never thought it was going to be like this. To end up in the situation, in which a sadistic man kidnaps three federal agents, holds them hostage and makes them spill their darkest secrets. In which I also didn’t know that I was going to tell the only person I’ve ever loved that I loved him, in front of the girl he was in love with and, it is true I am completely and hopelessly in love with Spencer Reid. From the countless times we spent night on his or my couch watching Disney movies together or, when we would talk about stupid memories from our childhood, to times when he would cry to me about being scared of what his future would be like. I never in a million years thought I would be sitting on the floor hands tied together, feet tied together, tears spilling out of my eyes, and seeing Spencer and JJ sitting on the floor the same way. Broken glass and the numbing of my wrists were the only things I could feel right now. I wanted so badly to scream and shout. I wanted so bad to escape but being held at gunpoint won’t let me be able to do that. I wish I would’ve stayed with Emily, but I insisted I came with them. Is that selfish of me? It might be but it would be better than being here. 

“Okay so who’s going to start. We don’t have all night agents.” his voice was harsh. “Hmm, you.” he points his gun at JJ. 

“Start spilling or-” he takes a minute to look between Spencer and I. “He’s dead.” his gun pointed at Spencer. My eyes went wide, looking around for anything, anyway to get out of this. 

“Doll, we don’t have all day. I’m starting to get impatient.” I look the guy in the eyes before taking a deep breath. 

“My deepest secret is that I wish I never joined the BAU.” 

“Hmm. Not good enough, elaborate.” he smiled a crooked smile. I look at Spencer as he furrows his brows at me wondering what she was talking about. 

“I wish I never joined that BAU because I wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone I shouldn’t have.” 

“Who.” he jabbed, I looked at Spencer, then at JJ, then right back at Spencer. The ringing sounded throughout the room. I hear Spencer let out a yelp, when the bullet barely missed his leg and went straight to the floor.

“Spencer. I’m in love with Spencer.” she cried my eyes rushing to look anywhere but his right now. My eyes went wide as I felt a few tears prickle. I sat there just looking between them watching Spencer just sit there and stare at JJ with so much disbelief in his face. I mean who couldn’t the girl he was in love with just told him she was in love with him.  

“Good now-” before he could say anything another ringing sound was in the room. The smoke was filling the room, seeing it come from Spencer's hands, holding a gun. 

“Come on let’s go.” JJ said, lifting up Spencer and walking out holding him up. I let out a long awaited sigh and stood up walking to the exit. I watch the swat team come into the building along with the medics. I take a step out into the cold winter air letting it hit my face. 

“Y/N are you okay?” Emily walked up to me, putting her hand on my shoulder. 

“Ye-” I watched them hugging tightly. “Yeah, sorry I’m fine. I just think I really need some sleep.” I sighed. It didn’t take long before everyone was walking back to the jet, happy that no one got injured badly. Everyone sat on the plane making small talk, trying to defuse the tension. I just sat there staring at the ground, trying to get my mind off of what just went on. JJ was in love with Spencer and I couldn’t tell. I mean she did tell me her and Will were having some troubles right now, and her and Spencer had been hanging out a lot, and the way she looks at him. I’ve seen it somewhere I just can’t pinpoint it. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the look of hope, the look of being in love with someone. It’s the look I’ve given Spencer a thousand times. I was supposed to be a profiler and I couldn’t even see this coming. I felt my eyes get watery once again so I lay against my hands and try to go to sleep. 

After some much needed sleep, I feel someone trying to wake me up. I let out a loud yawn and meet the eyes of the one and only Luke Alvez. 

“It’s time to get up. We’re home.” I nod, grabbing my to-go back and walk off the jet. I don’t say anything to the team but a wave goodbye and quickly walk to my car. I sit in my car for a second before I can’t stop the tears. They start coming out, letting out loud sobs, and whimpers. I felt hopeless, I had no chance of being with him. I start my car, my hands shaking as I get to the apartment complex. Starting a long and treacherous night. I get to my apartment and unlock the door before sliding against it and bringing my knees up to my chest, letting out loud sobs. 

12:00 P.M 

My head was spinning, my throat was dry, my heart was heavy. I sat at the table looking through all the team photos, the photos of Spencer and I. Everything seemed so off recently and I was never able to tell. Going through the photos made my heart hurt more and more. Photos of Spencer holding my hands, kissing my cheeks, and holding me. It doesn’t take long before the tears start up again, and I’m all alone in my thoughts. 

1:00 A.M 

I’ve tried to sleep, but every time I fall asleep I see him, and her, and that place and I wake up screaming, with no one to hold me. To comfort me when I need it. I think about calling Spencer but I decide against it. He probably has a lot going on too. So I’m trying to go to sleep again. 

2:00 A.M

“Stop, please stop. I need him here.” my body was twisting in my sleep, sweat drenching off of me. 

“Please, kill me. Not him, kill me instead.” tears we’re on my cheeks. 

“I don’t think so, doll.” I jumped up, crying harder. 

3:00 A.M

My neighbors checked on me. They said I woke them up screaming and needed to make sure I was alright. I told them I was fine, just a bad dream and I’m sorry for waking them. I didn’t want to chance that again so I sat at my couch and stared at my t.v. Nothing was playing, no sound was coming from the apartment. It was cold and irey and I didn’t know why. 

4:00 A.M

My eyes are getting heavier, but every time I close my eyes I see him and the shop again. I see Spencer smiling with her. Everything just seemed to be about him, but now my eyes feel heavy and I’m fast asleep. 

11:00 A.M 

I woke up to someone shaking me awake. When my eyes do finally open then I look up to see a very worried Spencer looking over me. 

“What- what are you doing here.” I groaned sitting up. 

“We have a case, Emily tried to call you, so did JJ.” I winced when her name came out of his mouth. He didn’t say anything but it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I um-” I was looking around my room for my phone, trying to find it. “I don’t know where my phone is.” I sit on my table, trying to fully wake up. 

“ ‘s okay. We all had a rough day yesterday. Emily said and I quote ‘I get it if you guys want to take some time off. That is understandable.’ but you never texted her back or me. I tried to call you. I was worried. I didn’t get to talk to you after… everything.” he looked at me. 

“How are you doing.” his hand went to my arm. I sigh at the touch, I wanted so badly to be mad at him but he’s here right now.

“It was a rough night. I couldn’t really sleep without-” I cleared my throat. 

“Without having this nightmare.” I looked into his eyes.

“What kind of nightmare.” he rubbed his hand up and down my arm. 

“I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“Y/N just talk to me.” he sighed softly. 

“I had a dream... we were back in that place but it was just us and the unsub.” 

“Us?” 

“You and me.” 

“He- he was trying to kill you, I begged him multiple times not too, but he didn’t care he shot you dead and told me it was my fault. All my fault and that I didn’t tell him a good enough secret.”  I cried. 

“Hey, Y/N. You’re okay. I’m here.” his hands wrap around my waist.

“I’m right here.” 

“Then I- I had another dream.” 

“Okay, tell me about it.” 

“He made you choose.” 

“He made me choose? Between?” I looked at him for a second. “JJ and I.” 

“That’s crazy why would I have to choose-” he stopped mid sentence and looked at me. It was like everything from the past night had finally made sense. 

“Do you love me?” his eyes snapped to mine. I looked down, his hand moving to my chin to lift it up. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes.” it was barely audible. He let out a little smile.

“Why are you smiling.” 

“I just- I never thought someone like you would fall for someone like me.” 

“Are you crazy.” my eyes finally met his. “Spencer you are charming, caring, one of the sweetest people I have ever met. You care for everyone and anyone. You have one of the biggest hearts out there. You are so so smart, and anyone would be more than lucky to have you. Especially JJ.” my last part was quiet but I know he heard it.

“Why would I choose JJ.”

“Because she is so much smarter, prettier, can handle so much more than me. She is so much of a better person than I am.” I look down once again. 

“Y/N I don’t ever want to hear that. You are one of the sweetest people I know. You always put someone else before yourself. You are so beautiful, and you are so strong. If you weren’t as strong as I know you are you wouldn’t be doing this job. Y/N please don’t ever doubt yourself because I love you. I know I don’t act like it sometimes especially yesterday but we all had a lot going on. I just needed to sort out my mind. Y/N maybe if you asked me ten years ago who I would choose you or her. I might choose her, but today if you were to ask me who I would choose it would be you. No hesitations. I’ve loved you for the past five years. Every time I needed someone who was the person by my side. When I needed a shoulder to cry on one who was there. When I was scared for what was going on, what was going to happen to me. Who was the one by my side. When I just needed some food and wanted someone to talk to, or what about when I wanted to watch Star Trek and everyone else said it was too nerdy and you sat there and told them how good the movie was. Who was there. Because it wasn’t JJ, it wasn’t Derek, it wasn’t Emily. No it was you. You are my partner in crime. How can I not love you. How can anyone not love you.” tears by now were streaming down my face, his thumbs wiping off every tear. 

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner.” 

“I was scared.” i laugh quietly 

“Of what?” 

“That you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

“Was it not obvious.” I look at him

“No.” 

“Oh well in that case.” I grab his face pulling his lips to meet mine. After a few minutes we pull away.

“I love you.” I laugh.

“I love you too.” and his lips are on mine again.

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Little Red Dress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Based on this request! Y/N goes undercover and Spencer has some thoughts on her outfit. 

Warning: A little nsftw but nothing to write home about

Words: 1,047

A/N: I just want him to look at me, what a snack...

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“I can’t believe I have to do this” Y/N growled, her hands tugging at her dress.

“You’ll be fine, we’ll have you in our sights at all times” Emily assured her, hand on her back.

“I’m not worried about that Em. Look at this dress, my boobs are practically falling out” she said, turning around to face the small group.

A serial killer was targeting working girls in LA and out of the whole team, Y/N was the one to fit the victimology. With the same hair colour and body shape, she would be a sure target for the unsub. That was what led to this moment. Emily, Spencer, and Derek readying Y/N for undercover assignment.

 At her words, Spencer couldn’t help but let his eye glance over her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was down and the roots teased to add more volume, with thick eyeliner on and bright red lipstick. The dress she wore was a matching red, which wrapped around her body and hugged her figure. Her black heels added to her height and she was lucky she could walk on them.

 Spencer couldn’t stop his eyes from looking at the mentioned part of her body. She was right, her breasts were very much on display. The dress was slightly too small and with the addition of a push-up bra, her cleavage was very clear to see.

 He quickly looked away, his pants tightening.

 You shouldn’t be feeling this way, he told himself. Y/N was his best-friend. She was the one who supported him through his troubling moment, who equally geeked out over facts like him. She was just as clever as him and just as interested in cool facts, eager to share each one with him.

 Still, Spencer could deny that he found Y/N attractive. It wasn’t just in a sexual or physical way, either. As previously said, she was supportive of him to a fault. She knew all of his deepest, darkest secrets, and happily lied for him to keep them under wraps. 

There he sat though, with a hard-on because his best-friend wore a tight dress which showed off her ample bosom, even though he should not be attracted to Y/N.

 He knew that she was going undercover, it was part of her job to do so, but why did it have to be her doing this job? If it was any of the other women on the team, Spencer doubted he would have been so affected. However, the dress just make Y/N look magnificent. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

 He seemed to drift off as he looked at her as she got herself ready. He could imagine her wearing that on a date with him, playing with her bracelet while they waited to be served dinner at a local restaurant. He could see them going back to his apartment, standing in his bedroom as he unzipped the dress. He could picture in on the floor of his bedroom as he walked past to get a drink after a fun night of… activities. He could picture it all.

 That little red dress.

 “Lets hope he’s a boob man” Emily said, slightly adjusting Y/N’s hair and pulling Spencer away from his thoughts. 

“Actually, a study showed that only thirty-eight-point five percent of males are actually ‘boob men’” Y/N informed her.

 Spencer subtly adjusted himself in his seat. Oh god. Hearing her rattle off a statistic shouldn’t have been so attractive but when she was dressed like that… he wanted her.

 “You ready?” Derek asked, obviously not effected by Y/N appearance.

“As I’ll ever be” she confirmed. 

 “You did good” Hotch told Y/N as they stood outside the interview room.

“Thanks” she grinned, accepting the congratulatory pat on the back as was custom by their team leader before he left to go over the final bits of evidence.

 Y/N was proud of herself; she had successfully taken down the unsub. She had allowed him to ‘lure’ her into an abandoned alley and let him draw the rope, but she had quickly taken him down. She had thrown a punch to his nose before swiping his leg from under him, all while wearing five-inch heels. While she agreed that heels weren’t the most practical footwear, she could still get the job done in them.

 Still, Y/N was ready to get out of those heels and the horribly revealing dress. Standing on the curb waiting for the unsub had allowed a lot of mens eyes to trace her body, and she had felt overly exposed. Thankfully, after catching the unsub, Spencer had given her his FBI jacket to cover herself with.

 “You want to be the one to interview him, don’t you?” Spencer asked, coming up behind her as she looked at the closed door to the interview room.

“Yep” she confirmed, nodding. “And I’m gonna be, just as soon as I get into some proper clothes.”

 Spencer didn’t know what overcame him in the next moment. As Y/N moved to turn away from him, he reached out and grabbed her arm. As he pulled her back to face him, she tripped over her heels and stumbled into his chest.

 Maybe it was the knowledge that he knew he would never feel this brave again. Or maybe it was just plain stupidity. His finger gripped her jaw, tilting her head back and allowing him to catch her lips with him. The kiss was rough and a little messy, but it was still the best kiss Spencer had ever experienced.

 “Spencer?!” Y/N gasped when the kiss ended, looking at him in shock. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Y/N, oh my god, I’m so sorry” Spencer hurries to apologise, letting her go. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me, I-”

“You should be sorry! You can’t just kiss me in the middle of a police station” she scolds. “For gods sake, Spencer, wait for somewhere more private.” Not giving him a chance to respond, she quickly pressed a kiss to his jaw before turning away, leaving to get changed. She got a few feet away before turning back to him, “Well, are you coming or not.”

Spencer didn’t need to be told twice and quickly followed after her. 

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