#and this has been just so. immensely hurtful lately

[fairycosmos]

hi, just curious if you're able to answer this, what happened with becca? currently struggling with a sibling with addiction issues and wanted to get some perspective

she'd been on and off drugs experimentally/recreationally since she was like 17, but when the pandemic hit in 2020 she spiralled very quickly over the course of a few months into addiction which was worsened by her dating (and moving the guy into our house) another person struggling with severe addiction. we tried to kick him out when she got bad but they basically went out onto the streets together so we had to let them back in. to make a long story much shorter she was on a lot more shit than we realised, she choked in her sleep on aug 25 2020 and had a cardiac arrest. cpr didn't help, her shitty boyfriend didn't help, nothing helped. it was too late basically. all of this is messed up and blurry in my head so there's much more to it than that but that's the gist of it. in the weeks leading up i tried tirelessly to talk to her about it, mostly over text even though we were all living in the same house but in seperate rooms due to covid at the time. i would send her these big walls of text about how this wasn't right and how bad things were and she would agree but basically just mollify me, lie to me etc though i do believe that having those conversations was nessecary. just letting her know that i understand, that i'm here, that i know she's scared and in immense pain but that we can make small steps in the right direction together etc. while also being almost harsh and upfront about the harm she is causing and the way she was hurting herself and everyone around her. she had a doctor's appointment booked the week after she died to talk about the drugs and i do think she intended on going, but she was just such a mess. i don't have any concrete advice because it felt so hopeless at the time, talking to her was like talking to a brick wall. i was so fucking angry and upset about her situation and the way she was that it was hard to even interact with her sometimes. the spiral was so fast with her and that made it so difficult to guage what to do. but if you can continue talking to them on a human level, bringing up examples of their recent behaviour that has crossed the line, pushing for the idea of seeing a professional/local addiction resources or hotlines, then that's all you can do. i know how hard this is on you too and i know it is a special type of exhausting and endless hell to love an addict. all you can do is try your best not to facilliate the addiction while doing what you can to support getting them into recovery. there are a lot of addiction centers, support groups and hotlines that offer advice and support for loved ones - i would really encourage you to seek those out for more professional and exstensive guidance. i really hope they get clean eventually and i reall hope you're taking care of yourself and being kind with yourself throughout this whole thing. i'm really sorry it's happening to you, your sibling and your family. please know i'm here if you ever need a friend or someone to vent to about it. x

supporting someone with addiction / how to help an addict without enabling / helping someone who is misusing drugs or alcohol/ info about interventions / how to help a friend or family member with addiction / tips for supporting someone recovering from addiction/overcoming drug addiction

#anon #tw drugs #tw addiction #ask chloe #tw death

[this-is-ris]

VILLAIN ARC- For the Greater Good

A phoenix rises from the ashes for a reason. Your world must be destroyed for you to rise anew. And rise you shall. Just as they feared you would-

Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.

Tagged by @gatheredfates and @nolanel-corbeaux, as well was friends in Discord, thank you all so much!!! ♥

I am VERY late on this but I had fun nonetheless! I believe everyone has been tagged but if you were not, consider yourself tagged by fiery Ris herself!

  Quiz here!

#ffxiv gpose #ffxiv screenshots #gposers #ffxiv oc #ris dei ijla #tag game #villain arc #phoenix

[mrsbsmooth]

I’ve been so turned off by what fusebox has been putting out lately that I haven’t even opened the app in a year or so, but I’m glad that people seem to be liking s8 so far!

I’m super curious to know how you would rank it against past seasons and what your thoughts are overall ❤️

RANK? YOU WANT ME TO RANK THEM

hjeslafhajsdkfgsdj

omg okay. way to make my night. I'm supposed to be writing. Let's fucking gooooooo.

[Noting based on my recent post, this is my ranking for if you're pursuing a male LI. WLW rankings would be very different].

So, to me, I think there are two main criteria that define a season: Love Interests and Gameplay.

Love Interests can be further broken down into:

Sprite Design: How good they look overall as a cast. Are they proportionate? Unique?

Variety: How different/unique are they to previous seasons? Are they all models and carpenters and finance bros?

Fandom Impact: This one is silly and subjective. Are people still talking about them years later? Do they have fanfics and art? If you don't know this person, are you missing out?

Gameplay can be further broken down into:

Quality of Plot Drama: How it's written, how impactful it is. Is it stupid manufactured shit, or is it important and moves the game along? (Cherrygate? Great drama. Suresh wanting to 'give Lulu a chance' after he'd been all in for us? Shitty, awful drama).

Challenges: Are they engaging and interesting? Do they move the plot along?

Replayability: Are there enough unique aspects in the routes that you feel the need to replay?

So, based on these two criteria, I assigned rankings to each season, with Season 2 being the best that fusebox can possibly do. (We already know that it is).

These are completely subjective, but this is what I came up with.

Some brief explanations:

Season 1:

Not the best art style, but overall the proportions were spot on, the body shapes and types were different and unique. Personalities top tier (Tim? Jake? sigh.) Cherrygate, dunking challenge etc.

Season 2:

The best the fandom can do in terms of consistent art style, poses, challenges and replayability. Every route is unique. Characters are overhwhelmingly gorgeous. Some may not like the drama, but I think it's just enough.

Season 3:

I thought things were ranked too high but then remember Tai? Rafi? AJ? The waterfall date, the water balloon and tent challenges that meant something and caused drama?

Season 4:

Lost points for the NaJamUno character merge, but gained points for Youcef and Oliver. Great characters, poor challenges and drama points. Dylangate was dumb and so was making us sleep on the daybeds.

Season 5:

The less said the better. But the sprites were hot af.

Season 6:

The great character merge was atrocious. But the drama from Casa, the Marshall&Ozzy plotline, and HAMISH oh my god, he gets a bonus point for drama all on his own.

Season 7:

Personally very forgettable season. Some of the sprites were lovely. Evan was a highlight and he's gorgeous. But given how quickly everyone forgot about this season, it's loowww.

Season 8:

Gets a high ranking for fandom impact purely based on the immense amount of art and interest that's come about this season. Even with up to a half-point deduction to account for recency bias, this season ranks highly.

This gives us an updated ranking of:

Third? THIRD? Season 8 is THIRD?!?!?

This gives us an average season rating of 6.4. We could remove the outliers, but we're trying to plot how good each season is against the average, so let's not. If we then plotted this and threw in a bar to show the average:

It says the only seasons that are 'above average' are Seasons 1, 2, and 8. Which, honestly, given my adoration for Bruno, Ciaran, and Lewie, rude. How dare I hurt myself with my own chart!!!!!

I'm sure one of the maths people could do something statistically significant and make this fully mathematically valid, but this is just me latching on to a silly ask and being an idiot about it.

I like S8 a lot. It's worth playing.

In other words:

Yes. Play it.

#litg #love island the game #love island game #litg s8 #litg tempting fate

[daydadahlias]

WAIT WHERES MIM?!?! PLEASE TELL ME YOU’LL RELEASE THAT ONE AGAIN PLEASE

I need you guys to understand that the reason I took down my stuff was for my own peace of mind because they're my stories and i started feeling unsafe having them out because of how they - and I - were being treated.

absolutely nothing is wrong with mim and I love that fic and I care so much about it which is why - for my peace of mind - i want it to belong to only me rn. I know the fic was only out a month after i finished it and that really upsets me about taking it down. i want to reupload it because i know people like the fic and i love sharing my stuff but also there's that level of how much the fic matters to me and how much more devastating it makes it when people are cruel. and how much it hurts when I, as the creator of something, am treated like I don't matter at all and that my stuff can so easily be stolen or copied. like, it's an extension of me, yknow? You can't separate content and creator in such a small and intimate sphere as fandom. like, you guys all use my first name when referring to me, yknow?? there's that sense of connection. and since it's such an intimate space, having that trust be betrayed or disrespected is so much more potent than if we were in a large fandom with a lot of creators.

the fear of having MiM copied is really immense and real for me rn and i know that's potentially me being overly paranoid but considering the Amount of times this has started to happen - and how blatantly rude and nasty and entitled readers have been getting with me and other creators over the last year - it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility.

MiM wasn't written for readers, it was written for me. and i shared it because i wanted to and that was wonderful. but to have any of my stuff stepped on so much just doesn't make me feel very safe in this fandom space rn and makes it hard to let people have access to something that matters so much to me.

I'm not saying MiM has been deleted forever, I'm just saying i want some more time for it to be mine.

#like i thought about not uploading scene 14 too especially bc she HAS been stolen verbatim before but. #at this point it just feels too late bc so many people have already read it #yeah i have a lot of conflicting feelings and im not saying i'll never repost mim but i just need some more time with her yknow???? #like she matters a *lot* to me. and im allowed to be a little finicky with her #and this has been just so. immensely hurtful lately #like i spent most of the weekend crying my eyes out over this stuff because it's just so. hard. to consistently share things #and *have* consistently shared things for three years #and to actively *see* the change that's been occuring in this fandom where people just started treating content like it was consumable #and dispensable. and then started just *expecting* things from me and demanding fics or being pointblank rude and like... #i just dont have time for it yknow?? #this stuff is supposed to be *fun*. i do it in my free time and share it with strangers for free bc i want to share the fun with others #and when people start disrespecting that. it makes it hard #like ive had so much more fun in the last week writing fic solely for myself and *not* sharing it than i have in. like. the last month #bc whenever i share fic publicly now. i know im going to have to deal with people potentially stealing it. #or not giving a shit about it and just asking when the next thing is coming. or going on twitter and ? talking about me publicly #where i cant even see it #like it's just been *so* many things lately. and it's hard when this is something i should only be doing to make me happy. #and it's been causing me sm stress instead. #and the fact that i took a week off tumblr and like. i got several pretty?? shitty asks?? that really undermined my feelings on everything. #and made it about themselves like #i dont know how to explain to you guys that we're all people and the whole point of fandom is to *share* with each other #not take. #so yeah i want to be able to share my stuff again and feel comfortable doing that but right now i just dont #and im gonna. get off my soapbox now ok <3 #the biggest thing is that. people act so overly familiar with me by calling me jess in asks and comments and acting like they know me #and then somehow. they are also so mean and devaluing of me? i cant really make sense of it. #ok enough of me. talking about myself. and venting #pigeon #anon

[judicent]

What the ever-loving fuck am I ever saying to anyone?

Because whatever the hell it is, I sure as shit don't mean it.

#here we are with vinny's feelings vaguely disguising my own #several sucky things have happened in succession that've made me feel AWFUL and it's all cause I'm.. bad. at talking #I got blocked and did not understand what had happened til after I spent an hour meticulously apologizing then couldn't send it #I!!!! feel terrible!!!!!! I'd conducted myself SO POORLY this person thought I'd just go complain about them and forget it??? #like no damn sorry I feel horrendous about this and probably will forever. I'm extremely sorry and I couldn't even tell you #I literally could not think about anything else for days. #I deleted our chat since I didn't want to obsess over every word I had ever said to them like I knew I would #cause there isn't really any recourse here that doesn't hurt them. I just hurt them and they'll never know how immensely sorry I am #I just. couldn't get over how they thought I never cared. that's been said to me in so many ways over the years and FUCK it hurts #I think it stung especially hard bc something similar but much more hurtful happened years ago #I dunno. then a couple other more mild instances of me being foolish occurred. it's been making me want to implode #how can I continue to do such awful things and not even realize what I've said before it's way too late #sigh sorry I did not want to go on like this it's going to stick with me for a while and probably not feel better for a long time if at all #guh. I looked at this sketch on the phone and you cannot see anything if you're on a low brightness as I am all the time. gotta fix that #also realized in the caption 'ever' is in there like 3 times and idk if that repetition sucks or kinda has a rhythm #how should I know! as we just established I am the WORST with words! #I FORGOT ALL MY TAGS #do I even want em here after this novel of wough #idk maybe when/if I come back to this n make it presentable it'll get proper tags

[earthtooz]

x : DON'T GO :*+ﾟ

in which: blade has always felt cold, but even more so without you.

warnings: 1.9k words, HURT/COMFORT with a sprinkle of angst, gn!reader who calls blade 'ren' once, mention of blood, ooc!vulnerable!blade, he's like a kicked puppy in this one

a/n: perhaps the most intimate piece i've wrote to date, this is nothing but pure yearning and longing on blade's behalf, and a nice fix-it fic with the most vulnerable i think blade could ever be. enjoy!!

in his new life, blade has always felt cold.

he is not spared from the constant feeling of goosebumps prickling his skin, not even for a second as the cold bites the tip of his fingers and sink their teeth into him to send shivers up his spine. but he has never felt colder than he does right now. 

your side of the bed is untouched, perfectly made, and devoid of any indication that you had been there. the blankets and mattress are cool to touch, with hardly any wrinkles in the sheets, and an ache declares itself home in blade’s chest.

the sun spills on his bare skin when he kicks the covers off, illuminating his scar-ridden chest as he gazes around the room, as if waiting for an sign that you were still here, and that he wasn’t too late. however, an immediate soreness tickles his throat that causes him to wince, serving as a reminder of the unpleasant discourse you had last night. 

it was hardly over anything of importance, but blade, a man of pride and relentlessness, had refused to back down, and you went to bed angry that night. he did too but woke regretful and cold under the covers, your warmth taken with you.

today was the day you had to leave for a mission, and although he knows you have a strict schedule to follow, he just wonders why you couldn’t have woken him up to say goodbye, especially after everything. 

he didn’t even get to say sorry or try to at least make amends. the swordsman only hopes you didn’t leave furious with him, and that you at least had something to eat before leaving.

to distract himself from the heartache, blade forgoes lying around and decides to start his day before the absence you left overwhelms him and the only thing his mind can do is think about you. 

not that he’s successful, because despite dedicating a monotonous afternoon of drilling sword techniques, the rampant thoughts about you did not decrease. rather, with each swing and sway of the cracked blade, his mind finds more and more to think about, with you at the epicentre of all of them.

it’s sometime around sunset when blade receives update on your status.

the swordsman is sat on a stone ledge, gold rays from the sun spilling on his skin as he waits for the sweat and fatigue to roll off. blade thinks of how you’d normally be seated nearby, watching him train to supply water and energy bars. although he never used to like the company or the doting, it doesn’t feel the same without you beside him, he misses you and wonders when you’ll return. 

“how long have you been here?” a raspy, female voice asks, breaking blade’s train of thoughts.

“since noon,” he responds merely. he doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s kafka talking to him.

“right. makes sense. i thought you’d be lonely since y/n’s gone.”

“need you remind me?” he huffs, voice teetering a threatening gruffness that would make ordinary people shudder, but does nothing to kafka.

“oh, spicy today, aren’t we?” she coos, ignoring the immense pressure radiating off blade effortlessly before taking a seat beside him. “what’s up? is there trouble in paradise?” a scoff comes from the swordsman. “i was only joking, did something really happen between you two?”

“none of your business.” 

kafka shrugs before her phone begins vibrating violently. when she reads the notifications, her face pulls the closest expression to concern that blade has ever seen her wear. 

“y/n got ambushed.”

his world freezes over.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the sunlight is gentle in blade’s eyes when he wakes up.

clothes are strewn on the floor, bedsheets are half off the bed, ceramics lie in pieces along the cracks of the planks, and despite the mess blade has made of your shared space, he is the most crumpled of them all. a kaleidoscope of volcanic anger, tsunamic worry, and mountainous yearning, the only place that has remained untouched by blade’s destructive touch is your side of the bed, lest your scent disappears. 

it’s been five days since anyone has received a live update from you, only hanging on to tracking notifications of your spaceship as any indication that you were fine. for the duration of it, nothing has been able to calm him, with kafka and silver wolf needing to stun him before he could do anything brash, like running off into the infinite cosmos to find you.

elio’s promises had never felt emptier, his constant claims of how you’d return very soon turning into dust in blade’s ears because how could he hold on to hope when you are alone amongst the stars? 

his texts are left delivered, but never read. in fact, it has been five days since your contact displayed to be online, and he finds himself staring at it in case that the circle will illuminate green, that you’ll give him some sort of update on your liveliness. 

so that you’ll see how sorry he is and all he wants for you is to return home. 

he doesn’t remember when he became so dependent, but perhaps this is another cruel punishment from fate with another inconceivable price of repentance.

for someone as unforgivable and despicable as blade to love means to mutilate the universe with aftershocks that tear through boundaries of what’s possible. for a man like blade to rebel, it means that the consequences will return tenfold.

and there is no crueller damnation than tearing you away from him. 

he turns on his side, arms reaching over to where you would normally lie, and dozes off again, feeling colder than ever.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

blade wakes up a second time. the sun is no longer the thing that awakens him, but rather, the sound of footsteps that echo outside the bedroom. disgruntled and still trying to gather his bearings, he shoots awake at the sound of your door opening.

you stand on the other side.

is this a dream?

“oh,” you breathe. you sound winded, caught off guard by the sight of your lover who stares at you like a bewildered deer. “i’m sorry, i didn’t think you would be here.”

he doesn’t say anything, just merely looks at you, unnervingly unresponsive.

you look miserable. fatigue clings to your skin like a second skin, your eyes lack the brightness they usually have, and you are, evidently, very battered and bruised, blood staining your ruined clothes. 

but you are like sunlight, and blade thinks he can breathe again. 

“i guess i’ll leave,” you murmur, interrupting blade’s momentary assessment.

“don’t.”

turning back around, the swordsman is now slowly stalking towards you, seemingly teleported from the bed to halfway across the room in the blink of an eye. 

“is something wrong?” you ask and he holds back a scoff from the irony of your question. he’s the one that should be asking that, not you. 

but yes, there is something wrong; you left him alone. you went somewhere he couldn’t and then made him feel helpless because he didn’t know whether or not you were going to come back, stranded in the cosmos forever. 

stopping before you, his hands gravitate upwards with the magnetic need to touch you, to ensure that you were real and not some figment of his hazy imagination. blade raises a hesitant hand to sit on the back of your neck and the frostiness of his fingertips causes a shiver to run up your spine. gently, he presses you for a pulse and visibly gulps when he finds it, suffocating you in the tense silence that has occupied the air (you’re real, and you’re okay, delivered back to him in one piece).

then, he looks at you with the saddest expression you have ever seen him wear before engulfing you in his embrace. the stellaron hunter is hesitant with his touch, hovering around you in fear of overstepping, for blade would never forgive himself if he were to scare you off again. 

because you’re finally back where he can reach, and he never wants you to leave. 

“ren?” you pause, gently wrapping your arms around his waist and closing the gap he left, meeting him halfway. the little action floods him with endless relief. “what’s the matter?”

he shakes his head against you and his hold tightens mercilessly, squeezing all air out of your lungs. 

“you had me worried,” he confesses, no louder than a whisper because otherwise he would crack under the weight of his own words. the constant fear that has plagued him for the last few days would finally break him and he’d be in shambles in your arms, making a mess of something gorgeous with something hideous. 

so instead, he will continue simply holding onto you where you are safe. in his arms, you cannot leave, you cannot go places that danger you, and you cannot break his heart and choke him with the emptiness of your presence.

“i’m sorry,” you say, rubbing his back and he tugs you closer. “i didn’t mean to worry you, everything jus-”

“-you left without saying goodbye.”

you’re silent and guilty, but so beautiful. “i thought you didn’t want to see me. we were pretty mean to each other before i left,” you say after a second of contemplation. “i didn’t know where we stood, i wasn’t sure if you still wanted me.”

whatever is left of his heart breaks, crumbling into shambles that ring at your feet. there are a multitude of things that blade wants to say, yet no words come to fruition, to his dismay. he wants to offer you the comfort and promises you want to hear, and he wants to express the overwhelming relief he feels, but he can’t, and he curses his own inability to be heartfelt. 

instead, his grip around you tightens, like you’ll slip away otherwise and have him search for you throughout the cosmos. 

“don’t do any of that again,” he pleads instead, hoping that you’ll understand. “i beg of you.”

“okay,” you breathe. “i won’t.”

“don’t leave like that,” he tugs at your ruined shirt, grasp gentle and careful in fear of scaring you away with the intensity of his emotions that are hanging on by a thread

“i wont.” 

“please don’t go.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

blade sighs, nodding. you smile at him and it feels like a warmth powerful enough to drive the cold away. 

“but first, i need a bath,” you murmur, placing your hands on his chest to push him away. “please, keep your distance, i’m pretty sure i reek.”

he doesn’t say anything and clearly doesn’t listen, because instead of letting go, he simply leads you to the bathroom without ever unwrapping his arms. soon, the bath begins to run, and the sound of water streaming down ceramic echoes off the tiles, but the warmth of your laughter and tired words overpower it. blade sits at the edge, nothing but an oversized shadow that watches as you relax in the water, frowning when he catches the frequent bruise or fresh scar. 

afterwards, you both stumble onto the bed (careful to avoid the mess that blade as made, which you scolded him for, and he listened dejectedly before promising to clean it all up), and blade reaches over to your side, chest warming when he finds your figure to tug close. 

you fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. your lover, on the other hand, stays awake for a few moments longer, simply trying to commit you to memory. 

“don’t go,” he repeats, tugging at your shirt as the evenness of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep.

he doesn’t feel cold anymore. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#blade x reader #blade hsr x reader #ren x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn!reader #blade x gn!reader #blade fluff #blade x reader fluff #earthtooz: HSR

[nereidprinc3ss]

better late than never

in which uni student fem!reader finally shares exactly what she's been worried about with spencer

18+ for pregnancy scare warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, reader doesn't want to be pregnant, age gap (unspecified) a/n: listennn lots of you guys asked for more spence x uni reader... but u didn't specify WHAT u wanted... so now we're fantasizing about pregnancy scares because we're all what?? say it with me!! MENTALLY ILL!!!!

For the fifth time, you have to restart the paragraph you were reading. For the fifth time, it doesn’t make any sense—words strung together like clashing beads on a dancing string, blurred together by the tears you’ve been fighting all day. Anthropology is by far the easiest of the six classes you’re taking this quarter, but suddenly completing this routine assignment feels like scaling a mountain. It is, of course, nothing in comparison to the catalytic source of your immense stress. The thing you’ve been trying to ignore for nearly a week, and as a result, have become more and more obsessive about. 

A flare of rage overwhelms you and you slam your laptop shut. Then as quickly as it appeared, it dissipates, cooling to desolation as you bury your face in your hands with a sob. You hear paper shuffling from the desk where Spencer has been silently working and you try to reign in your emotions, but it’s too late. 

“Hey,” he says gently as he approaches, slowing to a stop in front of your spot on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”

You sniff, quickly brushing the tears away with trembling hands. But your voice is thick and strained when you fruitlessly attempt to lie. 

“Nothing.”

When you refuse to look up at him, he kneels down in front of you. 

“Really? This doesn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been so quiet these past few days?”

Of course, he noticed. You were a fool for thinking he wouldn’t. Finally you break, looking to him for subconscious comfort. And he’s looking up at you so earnestly, with so much genuine concern in those puppy dog eyes, that the waterworks threaten to start up all over again. Your lip quivers. 

“I can’t tell you,” you squeak. 

“That’s a really scary thing for me to hear. Do you understand why?” His voice is calm, carefully grabbing your hand and bringing to his heart. “Because I need to know if something happened to you.”

You shake your head tearfully, looking down at where you’re weakly grasping the front of his shirt. 

“‘s not like that,” comes your reedy whisper. “Nobody hurt me or anything, I just—I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

“I won’t get mad, I won’t,” he promises desperately, “right now I just want to know what I can do to make this better. I hate seeing you like this.”

A shuddering sigh forces its way out of your lungs. You suppose this is the kind of thing you probably should tell your boyfriend about, as petrifying as it may be.  

“I don’t know, I… I’ve just been freaking the fuck out because I’m worried I’m pregnant, and this would be the worst possible timing—like I know I want kids one day but I’m still in college and you’re like a real adult with an adult career and I don’t want to fuck that up for you and I know that even if I am pregnant I have choices but that’s still so scary and… and I don’t know.”

You’re expecting a long pause, punctuated by some berating and bemoaning, but it never comes. Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Honey, this is exactly the kind of thing you tell me about,” he says, voicing your earlier thoughts. And he doesn’t even sound furious. You glance up, watching his visage swim beyond your teary eyes. “I am not mad. That wouldn’t make any sense. Do you know who’s fault it would be if you accidentally got pregnant?”

“Well—"

“Mine. So if this ever happens again, please don’t keep it to yourself for so long. I won’t be mad at you for something like this, ever.”

“But… you’re not worried?”

He shakes his head slowly, looking utterly unperturbed. 

“I wouldn’t be worried either way. But no, I’m not concerned that you’re pregnant. We’re really safe. The chances of you being pregnant are essentially negligible.”

“But I’m two weeks late.”

“That can happen when you’re taking six upper level classes,” he agrees, swiping your cheek with a thumb. “You’re under a lot of stress. I’m completely unsurprised that your body is reacting to it.”

A weight like a ton of bricks is lifted from your shoulders, but doubt still lingers. 

Spencer sees the hesitation in your eyes. 

“Would it make you feel better to take a test? Just in case?”

You nod gingerly, wrapping your hand around his wrist. He takes it in both of his, kissing the back before dropping them to your lap. 

“Okay. I’ll go get a couple. But I’m confident that you have nothing to worry about, and I’m usually right about these things.”

You take another deep breath, the last of the anxiety floating away with it. He’s usually right about everything. 

“Spence?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing your palm with his thumb and looking at you with so much love in his eyes. 

“Do you maybe feel like doing my homework for me?”

He smiles. 

“Nice try. Get it done and we can go out for dinner, okay?”

“Always worth a shot,” you shrug. 

He laughs, shaking his head as he stands. 

“And the answer will always be no.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[steviebears]

Could you do an Eddie munson x reader smut where the reader is Joyce’s daughter and Joyce finds out they have been having sex and is worried about her because she has only heard bad things about Eddie through Johnathan and will

omg 🥺this is so cute anon thank you!

edit: i just realized you wanted smut IM SORRY

GENRE: fluff, we all need it

WARNING: fem!reader, implied smut, protective Jonathan

Joyce watches, shocked, as the long haired boy falls from your window, buckling his belt with a dazed smile on his way out to leave in his beat up van.

She knew you were grown now, and even though you were the eldest of her children, your choices still worried her. Especially after what Jonathan said.

Joyce was acting odd the next morning. You had left early for work so she was left with Jonathan for a late breakfast.

"What is it mom, you've been staring at your eggs with that look on your face for the past five minutes." Jonathan questions her, taking another bite of potatoes.

"I saw the weirdest thing last night and I just don't know what to make of it." Jonathan perks up at that. Considering the things known to happen in this town, he was interested.

"What did you see?"

"Well, I don't know if I should say." She cared about your privacy, she really did, but maybe Jonathan knew something about this mystery boy. Jonathan just gives her a 'tell me' look, and she breaks.

"I saw a boy leaving Y/n's bedroom window last night." Jonathan drops his fork.

"What?" Despite being your younger brother, the boy was pretty protective of you.

"Who was it?" He straightens his posture.

"I don't know! Some guy, long hair and he left in this old van." Jonathan shut his eyes, instantly knowing who it was. He knew you two had been friendly in the past, and he certainly did not approve.

"It's Eddie Munson." Jonathan sighs, rubbing his eyes. Now, Jonathan would never interfere with your life. He had his worries just like any brother, but you were an adult and he knew he shouldn't say anything to you. That didn't apply to Joyce, though. Jonathan told Joyce about Eddie, most of the things he'd heard about the guy. He tried to put it lightly but there isn't exactly a good way to say he was a drug dealer.

Will was a different story. He thought Eddie was cool, but even he wouldn't approve of him dating his own sister.

Joyce stood by your door contemplating what to say. Eventually she knocked.

"Y/n?" She called out.

"Uh- yeah one second mom!" You and Eddie immediately broke away from eachother, looking at one another in panic before you instructed him to get in your closet.

"Okay come in!" She opens the door gently and shuts it behind her, making you nervous. Did you do something wrong? She sits on your bed next to you, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

"I wanted to talk to you about... something I saw the other night." She shifts in her spot and avoids eye contact.

"There was a boy- Eddie Munson? I saw him leaving your bedroom window and you know, looked like you two were getting... pretty close." Your face gets hot as you remember that night, the fact that your mom was talking to you about this was immensely embarrassing especially in front of Eddie. You could practically see his smile from behind the closet door.

"And I just don't think it's a great idea, neither does Jonathan. This guy he's- not exactly a golden boy I hear?" You were going to kill Jonathan for ratting out Eddie.

"Mom, trust me. He and I- we trust each other and I know he would never hurt me. Jonathan would kill him if he did, you know that." You were right and Joyce knew she had to loosen the reins.

"Okay. But, you guys are being safe right? Because the last thing you need is-" You can almost hear Eddie's snickering and the hot feeling in your face is killing you.

"Yes! Yes, mom." She smiles and looks like she remembers one more thing.

"Oh, but make sure you go pee after because-" At that, a fit of commotion is heard from the closet. She looks there, then back at you. She gives you a 'is he here?!' look and gets up. Joyce is very surprised to see a tall lanky man with crazy hair fall out of the closet.

"Jesus Y/n!" She looks at you with a mom look and back to Eddie who was desperately trying to bite back his smile. It didn't work and his pearly whites were on full display.

"Use the front door next time. No more sneaking in." She sighs as you have your smiling face in your hands.

"Yes ma'am." He says before laughing, causing her to roll her eyes- the smallest of grins on her face.

#eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season 4 #st4 #stranger things season four #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson edit #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I can totally imagine that, after getting absolutely no where, Jokerized!twin darling just has an Azula-level breakdown. Especially if the Batfam or God forbid Damian somehow manages to subdue the unpredictable mess. There's no way that Twin!Reader doesn't resent Damian to a degree, especially after everything he put them through... so seeing his twin brother not only be accepted but also find a family that was willing to have him? While Twin!Darling was just used and abused in some shape or form? Absolutely breaking down!

Twin!Reader wholeheartedly holds an immense amount of resentment towards both Damian and Talia. I really like the idea that Twin!Reader was more akin to being that of a normal child born outside of a family full of assassins than to acting like one who was. Like, Twin!Reader was on par with Damian when it came to the proficiency of their training but the mentality just wasn’t there for them. They couldn’t just aimlessly kill, they couldn’t just walk away with someone’s blood on them and not feel something. Not only that, they just weren’t emotionless to any degree like how their mother and brother so easily were. They laughed, they cried, they felt fear, they felt hurt. Like, I’ve had this scenario in my head for a bit of there being a thunderstorm or a blizzard and Twin!Reader seeking out Damian because they’re scared, they sneak into his room and they just want comfort. They just want to be together with their twin brother in their moment of need. And Damian begrudgingly allows it cause they won’t go away no matter what he says but he still makes comments about how weak they are for something as ridiculous as a storm to have them acting like this and that the Reader better be out before mother finds out. I especially like this kind of scenario being what Twin!Reader holds onto when they need something no the better side to look back on. It didn’t happen often, nor did it come without berating, but there were a few moments that Twin!Reader had with Damian that they’ve held onto, that they’ve cherished.

I also really like the idea of Talia having tried to kill Twin!Reader behind Ra’s back, leaving them for dead only for them to survive and that’s where we go from there. I think it really adds to the whole familial betrayal thing and gives more to the Reader eventually going off the rails, especially as they’re in search of somewhere to belong, for someone who willingly and genuinely wants them for them. It makes it even more of a surprise and gut punch respectively for Damian, Talia, and Ra’s when the Reader pops back up. Especially, after being Jokerized.

All their life, Twin!Reader as been used and abused in some way, shape, or form. And even after being Jokerized that’s all they’re met with. Even if it isn’t to the same extent it was with Talia and Damian, these new people the Reader is trying to find belonging in all have ulterior motives. They want to use the Reader against Batman (or one of the other main people the Reader’s been associated with), they want something to have and hold over Batman’s (or whoever else’s) head. That’s all it is, at least in the beginning. Eventually these people do come to have some amount of care for the Reader but by then it’s too late and the Reader is in the wind and on to the next one.

I do really love the idea of Damian and Twin!Reader sharing their love for animals. I especially love the thought of the Reader’s first pet/companion being a hyena Joker and Harley (probably just Harley) gifted them after their initiation into the Clown Family. That hyena would mean the absolute world to the Reader, as far as the Reader was concerned it was their first friend and the first thing that ever stayed around for them. Wherever the Reader went, so did it. I love the thought of the hyena being protective of the Reader, sticking close to them for both security and comfort. The hyena very quickly becomes the only thing that Twin!Reader truly cares about anymore. Not to mention, there’s no doubt that after everything Twin!Reader’s been through before and after being Jokerized they have constant nightmares, even some night terrors, and the only one there for them is their loyal hyena. It’s there to curl around them protectively, to give them a warmth they’re not used to and a sense of being looked over that they’ve never felt before. I can even see the hyena bringing the Reader snacks to remind them to eat and take care of themself.

I can really see the Jokerized!Twin!Reader being thrown into an all out breakdown if their hyena died, especially if it died protecting them (whether from the batfamily or some rogue rando). That was their only friend, the only thing that truly ever cared about them and now they had nothing anymore. They had no one. They were lost all over again. If any of the batfamily members had anything to do with the Reader’s precious hyena’s death there would never be any forgiveness. If someone else were the reason for the hyena’s death than the Reader wouldn’t think twice about killing them and getting revenge for their beloved companion. Either way, no matter who caused the Reader’s hyena’s death I can see the batfamily all trying to subdue them from enacting any revenge on whoever. No matter how feral and berserk the Reader is in the moment, no matter how hard they fight, how hard they hit, I see Bruce, Jason and Damian especially not letting go of them. They hold the Reader the entire time, unrelenting in their grasp no matter how hurt they get in the process. If the Reader is as unrelenting as they are then they’ll have to knock them out. From there the family will take Jokerized!Twin!Reader home, where they’ll be safer, where the family can watch over and be there for them.

After their breakdown, there is no way in hell, Damian and Bruce especially will be able to go on with the Reader not being with them. Seeing how absolutely destroyed they’ve become, how much of a broken husk they’ve been turned into after everything they’ve been through, Damian and Bruce can’t allow anything more to happen to their sibling/child. No matter what it takes, how long it takes, Damian and Bruce aren’t giving up on Jokerized!Twin!Reader. They will save them, they will put them back together again. They will be the family that the Reader should have had all along.

God forbid if Ra’s was there to see his precious grandchild breakdown like that in front of him. Damian and Bruce be damned, he’s taking them home with him and Talia will be thoroughly dealt with for her part in all of this, in destroying his pride and joy.

#anxious answers #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batfamily #yandere ra’s al ghul #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter Five

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid, fem!reader x Emily Prentiss 

Description: After a conversation with Emily, Spencer drowns in a sea of regret and guilt. That’s when JJ gives him a harsh reality check.

Content/Warnings: Spencer/JJ centric chapter, friendships are threatened, drama, emissions of guilt, regret, Spencer thinks of you and Emily to a deep degree, a break up ensues, one use of Y/N. 

WC: 2.1K

Y'all know the drill. 450 notes for next part!

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The sound of the ceramic shattering on the ground had you looking at the floor first, the overly sugary coffee surely going to make the floor sticky and give everyone’s shoes that annoying sound of them getting stuck to the ground.

“That’s going to be a pain to clean up.” Was all Emily could say, unphased by his reaction. Truth be told, he had no reason to react the way he did. He had made his bed the moment he got with JJ, losing every chance that he had with you. “Pick up the pieces, don’t need anyone getting hurt.” She added.

“So this is what you two do whenever you're supposed to be working? Not very professional.” Spencer huffed, kneeling down to pick up the remains of the navy blue coffee cup, his head shaking. 

“Everyone is entitled to a lunch break for an hour every workday. What anyone else does outside of this office is absolutely none of your business.” The unit chief countered back while she was heading over to the bullpen doors. “When you’re finished, come to my office. We need to talk.” 

You were looking between Spencer and Emily, hands pushed into your pockets while the both of them had their little back and forth. “Can we all just calm it down? There’s no need for any more drama than this team already has.” The voice of reason. How fitting.

“I am calm. I just find it shocking that you’re kissing our boss in the elevator.” He commented, the shards rested in the palm of his hand as he pushed himself to stand up straight.

“You have no right to be mad and you know that.” You countered, deciding against furthering the argument as you approached the doors to the bullpen. How dare he act angry at you after what he did. He had no logical reasoning to act like a child over your decisions.

You knew that this was him lashing out, showing that deep down, he really is bothered and has noticed what he lost out on. That could’ve been you and him kissing in the elevator instead of you and Emily, the both of you could be going out to lunch together… He knew where he went wrong and this was going to haunt him. 

Spencer was always dramatic in that way, needing to see just what he lost before it was hitting him like a freight train. It was something he did with JJ, then he got with her and things haven’t exactly been smooth sailing in the department of their relationship.

He felt immense guilt, especially whenever JJ and Will had to make plans for the boys to visit with her. She should’ve been home with her children, not with him. Although it was seemingly too late, he highly doubted Will would take JJ back. 

He made it known on several occasions that she made her bed and she had to lie in it, to suffer from the loss of a loving marriage. In a way, it made Spencer feel dirty. What would Henry think of his beloved uncle when he got older? What would Michael think? In their story, as well as yours, Spencer was the bad guy. 

Those thoughts were in his mind all day after that. Even whenever being scolded by Emily, he just wasn’t present in the conversation. All he could think about was how happy you seemed with her, the way you looked at her. It made him feel nauseous. 

He knew Emily would take care of you at the end of the day but all he could do is think about what he lost. Emily was the lucky one, the one who didn’t break your heart into a million pieces. She got to hold you, to kiss you, to bask in your love and presence. 

His mind wandered farther, the idea of you two being intimate together. The idea made jealousy tug at his heart. She would be the one to worship you, to bring a rush of euphoria over you so strong that you wouldn’t dare think about another person in the same manner. 

It made him irrationally angry, upset at Emily because she was lucky enough to step in to the relationship that should’ve been shared between you and him. 

“Are you even listening?” Emily’s voice made Spencer look over at her, his eyes searching her features. She was angry at him, the comments he made earlier being the driving force behind it. He understood why, however this talk was unnecessary. 

“Yes. I’m listening. I just think this is all a waste of my time and yours. I’m sorry for making the comments I made but you have to admit, you are our boss at the end of the day. If you can’t handle what I have to say, imagine hearing what other people will say.” He stated. 

“I can guarantee you that nobody would care as much as you do. There will have to be a tedious paperwork process done for this to continue, but I don’t mind it.” It was a wonder how Emily kept her composure despite Spencer’s shitty attitude. “I am just asking you to stop with the comments and quite honestly, you need to grow up. The Spencer that I know would be happy for his coworkers who are also his friends. He wouldn’t be throwing a hissy fit over jealousy.”

“Look. I am happy for you, for her. I’m not jealous either.” Debatable. He didn’t care to admit things like that. “I just don’t like how I didn't know. She used to tell me everything!” 

“And then you ruined that for yourself. You know that I love you but you’re acting foolish. I don’t want to constantly have battles between us, alright? Just take this time to reflect and realize what you did wrong and then let all of that built up anger go. Now, go and wash your face. Get your shit together.” 

That was the end of the conversation, the male slowly pushing himself to stand before making a slow retreat from the office. Washing his face was good, would clear his head, settle his nerves.. So, he made a b-line straight for the men’s washroom. Although unbeknownst to him, JJ was hurrying out of the bullpen right behind him.

“What happened in there?” She made her presence known as she grabbed Spencer’s arm, startling him in the process. “What are you trying to pull now?”

“Trying to pull? Are you serious? Emily wanted to have a private discussion with me. I suggest you mind your own business, Jennifer.” He spat, the built up aggression causing him to breathe heavier thn usual, his face red. He needed to get to the bathroom now. 

“Woah, hold on. You think you are allowed to get rude with me because you don’t know how to leave things alone? Spencer, don’t be ridiculous.” She began although the male’s hands were raised in self defense as he looked in her direction. He had no time for this.

“I know how to leave things alone. I’ve proved that enough these past few weeks. You just don’t like that all the attention isn’t on you for once. Nobody really cares what you have to say in regards to this situation. I don’t care. You don’t like the way I carry myself and that is your problem. I can’t change myself just to make you approve.” 

“Are you crazy? I’m just telling you to leave them alone.”

“Yeah, well how about you leave me alone?” He spat, now turning on his heel to get to the bathroom. He knew taking out his anger on JJ wasn’t fair but she just always poked and prodded at him. He hated that. 

As he made it to the bathroom, he was staring at his reflection, the man in the mirror being someone who he could barely recognize. The old Spencer would’ve never taken things this far. He would’ve been too afraid of backlash, would’ve pulled away entirely once he saw the hectic nature of what his decisions could unleash.. 

With the sink water steadily running, he was leaning down to splash some cold water on his face. He just needed to calm down, to think through this situation and what his options were. His brain was amazing with conjuring up ideas and theories, although it was like as of late, he was lacking.

“Get your shit together.” Spencer spoke to himself, his eyes closing to avoid looking at himself, at who he became over the years; a man who broke someone’s heart, broke a family, and broke a team dynamic. Hell, he might’ve even broken himself in the process.

The sound of flowing water coupled with his breathing was all he could hear, blocking out the rest of the world as he was bringing himself back down to a more calm and collected state. His decisions have never haunted him like these past few ones have. 

Once calm, his hand was turning off the water, his eyes watching a steady pour slow down to nothing. Alright. He was alright. 

Upon exiting the bathroom, JJ was still there, arms crossed as she was waiting patiently for him to come out. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” She stated, looking up at the man in front of her.

“I don’t want your help. I just- I feel like this isn’t working. I don’t like this relationship or whatever we have anymore. I can’t keep up with it, I just can’t.” He blurted out, heart beating like a drum in his chest, threatening to burst out of his chest cavity.

A tense silence came over them as JJ pursed her lips together. “After I left my husband to try and make this work?” She asked, not giving the man time to answer as she took in a breath. “Fine. Maybe you’re right. You can’t do this anymore. Because now you’ve realized the weight of your decisions. I always wanted you to reflect and realize what you did wrong, to take accountability. I just didn’t expect it to lead to this.”

“I just can’t do it. I can’t look at Henry or Michael without feeling immense guilt. I broke up the dynamic they were used to, at least contributed to it. We’ve both lost important things to us. The only difference is, you’re lucky enough to have your children. You could salvage a cordial relationship with Will. I’ve lost everything.” 

“You’re unbelievable!” The blonde stared at the taller male in disbelief. “You are throwing a pity party for yourself because suddenly you feel the need to be jealous over what Emily has? After this whole experience, I can tell you that Y/N is much better off with her than she is with you.”

The ugly truth that hit Spencer harder than a train derailed from the tracks.

“I have to agree that this needs to end. You also need to leave those two alone. If anything, take my advice on that. Let them live. Let them be happy.” She frowned while bringing her hands up to tiredly rub at her face. “She doesn’t love you and you need to realize that.”

Those words stuck with Spencer, even whenever he made it to his apartment later that night. He was pacing around his living room, arms over his chest, as he really had time to think about everything. The silence never did him any favors, but he couldn’t even ignore his thoughts with a book like he usually could. He tried. 

Every conclusion that he conjured up was the same; he needed to leave you alone. Not that easy, though. You knew him better than the others did. You two talked and shared a lot in the time frame of knowing each other.

He got a horrible idea, one that he knew he shouldn’t have had, but it was an idea. 

With his hand digging into his pocket, he was eventually retrieving his phone, getting into it before getting to his contact list.

There wasn’t much scrolling that had to be done, eventually finding a familiar name. Your name. He was silently outweighing his options. You could answer, you could block him, or you could flat out ignore him.

So, throwing caution to the wind, he hit call, slowly sitting in the middle of the floor as he patiently waited for an answer.

#strawbeerossi august series #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid series #spencer reid scenario #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fandom #emily prentiss au #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader

[raineydays411]

My Father's Daughter pt 14

Summary: Dick and the others have finally caught up to Y/n and her "Red Team", but have they gotten there too late?

Dark.

That's all you saw, just darkness. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pitch black water, unaware but uncaring at the immense peril you were in. You floated, faintly hearing a noise in the background, something telling you to wake up and fight. But you wanted to ignore it, it felt good. Good to just float, not worrying about a thing.

But then there was a light.

A piercing bright light that hurt your eyes as you stared into it. And a ringing. A ringing that made your eardrums feel as if they were about to burst.

"Hello."

Who the fuck was that?

"Who the fuck are you?" You say with a hoarse voice, still not grasping the situation you were in.

"Such a foul mouth." The man tskd, " The signature of a Stark I guess."

You look around and feel the restraints on your wrists and ankles. You look down to see that you're splayed out on a table.

"That, unfortunately, shall be the first thing to go."

Panic floods your body.

You finally realized what is happening.

They got you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" What do you mean she's gone?!"

Christine screams at the her children, " She- She was just here! She was in her room! She was safe!"

Dick looks up from the ground, feeling like he was twelve again, " Mom they.. they just came from nowhere. We had just gotten there when they attacked.."

Bruce was already making his way towards his suit, Dick and Jason had burst into the house, rushing the battered Peter, Wade, and Dopiender.

They were all caught off guard when they had finally found you, literally across the street only to see a group of armed men dressed in black descend on your unsuspecting friends.

They took out who they thought would be the biggest threat, Wade Wilson.

Or at least they tried to. They first shot him in the chest, hoping that the blast would take him out of the game, but to no luck. He flew back allowing them to shoot you with a tranquilizer, but he quickly rose and started firing back. It was only when they got him with a headshot that he went down and stayed down.

Peter, although he didn't have his suit, tried his best to get to you dodging multiple tranquiliser darts and managing to knock a few of them men to the ground. He was however overwhelmed and swiftly knocked out by a hit to the back of the head.

Dopinder actually managed to kill two men before he was shot in the arm and passed out from the blood.

By the time the shock from it all wore off and the Bat crew rushed to the scene, it was all over.

You were gone, and weren't even able given the chance to defend yourself.

The sight of your limp body being carelessly lifted haunted Jason's mind. He chased the SUV for twelve blocks before he lost them. By the time he made it back to the abduction spot, Peter had woken up and was panicking.

His best friend had just gotten kidnapped and he was being interrogated by Nightwing and Robin. Jason, fueled by adrenaline and rage tried to slam Peter into the taxi but was deflected by said boy. Surprising everyone and sending into attack mode.

But before any fighting could happen, Dick came in to be the voice of reason.

They piled into the nasty taxi and headed off back to the Batcave to allow Wade and Dopinder to recover and to think of a plan to rescue you.

"Jason," Bruce said, " What are you thinking?"

Jason looked at him from where he stood, " They were watching us."

Bruce nodded, " They knew she was here the whole time."

Christine stopped her yelling, " What?"

Bruce looked at her, " They knew she was here. That's how they were able to grab her so quickly. They had a plan."

Dick looked angry," We don't even know who these people are! How are we supposed to get her back?"

And for once, Bruce didn't have an answer to that. Despite the amount of time you had been with them, there has been little to nothing found about the people who were after you. Not by Bruce and not by your father. He had spent nights sitting in front of that computer trying to help figure out how to keep you safe. But without whatever information Tony had found, he knew next to nothing.

Christine held in her tears, she thought she had ran out of tears earlier but here they come again. She had that feeling again. The same feeling she had when she left you. The same feeling she had when she listened to the voicemails and read the emails you sent her. The same feeling she had when the movers told her about your outburst, and the same feeling she had when she saw you at that gala.

Was it sadness or guilt? She couldn't tell anymore.

But she was afraid.

Afraid for you, and what these people had planned for you. This was the one thing she had been terrified would happen and it's happened. They've taken you from her.

"It's my fault." She cried," If I had just listened to her-"

"Miss Christine, I'm afraid now is not the time for your pity party." Alfred said from where he had been helping Dopiender, who was stll unconscious.

" Alfred." Bruce said in an exhaused manner

"I am sorry Master Bruce, but I believe it's best if we focus on Y/n and not tiptoeing around Miss Christines woes of failed motherhood."

The whole room froze. It was rare for Alfred to criticize Christine for anything, as she was his favorite.

"Woah..harsh Jeeves"

Everyone turned to see Wade rising froom his bed, wound healed.

"What the fuck?" Jason said, " This dude took a headshot!"

"Not the first time" Wade shook his head, forgoing the dirty joke that popped into his head, " Now where the fuck am I?"

Everyone again froze, but Bruce emerged from the shadows, full on Bat mode.

"Who are you."

Wade took one look at Bruce and laughed in his face.

"hahahaha oh oh I'm sorry- I just hahahahaha" Another burst of laughter came from his mouth, "You're so scary I promise!"

The room looked at the man uneasily. The one person that was crazy enough to laugh in Batman's face was the Joker.

"Wade stop it." Peter said from where he stood, "Y/ns gone."

Laughter ceases immediately, an eerie aura fells the room, " What was that bugs?"

"They got her."

"Then what the fuck are we standing around here for!" Wade shouts, the sudden shift in personalities making the family of bats unsettled.

Except for Jason.

"Can I just ask who the fuck are you?"

Your two friends turn to him," We're Y/ns family."

Jason pauses and nods," Okay then."

Then proceeds to give them the rundown on what they have discovered, which is not a lot.

There's a heavy silence that fills the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Panic fills your veins.

"That will be the first thing to go."

Those words riddled your brain as you were strapped down to this table. The room was white, almost like a hospital room.

Now, this wasn't the first time you had been kidnapped, but most of the time it was petty. Ransoms and whatnot. And your dad always managed to find you within the hour.

This was different. This was people who truly had no good intentions.

You were scared. Your dad had no idea where you were. You were worried about your friends, and even about the Waynes.

You had no idea on whether they were looking for you or still thought you were in your room. For all you knew, they were having a grand time thinking you were sulking and weren't going to discover you were gone till it was too late.

And what would happen to your dad if you die? He could barely take care of himself when Christine left him. He needed to you. He needed you to be okay so he can be okay. You couldn't dead. And your mom, you couldn't leave her to pick up your dads pieces. She didn't know how. Not like you did. and what about Jason-

"Ah, you're aware."

A woman came in this time.

"I apologize for the rather rude introduction, I'm afraid men just don't have the same gentle touch as us women."

She had a small frame. She was pale, almost deathly so. With graying hair that had no cut, just long and curly. She didn't look old however, that's what unsettled you the most. She looked about a few years older than you.

"Please don't pay no attention to whatever these men say to you, we do not intend to cause you any harm."

Her voice was calming, it soothed your panic and eased your anxiety. It made you feel like you were floating.

"Now, Ms. Stark I know you are probably wondering why you are here."

You couldn't even bring yourself to care, you felt at ease. A frail cold hand carding through your hair.

" This building we're in used to be a prestiges lab. We studied the human mind and its capabilities. With the rise of people such as Wanda Maximoff and such, this research was well needed. We searched far and wide for the people with these capabilities. Which was hard because they are so rare as I am sure you know."

She rises from her place next to you, hand leaving your hair. She walks over to a table next to you. When did that get there?

"Well, the search for these people was fruitless as you can imagine. Not many people are as forthcoming with their capabilities as we hoped. It became so bad that we had to force these poor subjects out of their hiding spaces. But even then the search didn't turn up much. So we decided that we would make our own."

You really didn't comprehend what this woman was telling you. All you wanted was to go back to sleep. You felt so relaxed.

"As you can imagine, that didn't particularly go as planned. We didn't mean to kill them, their minds just weren't strong enough."

Wait what?

"There were many that came through ; young, old, male female. And only one group was ever rarely successful. And can you guess who it was?"

A cold chill went down to your bones as you were piecing together her story.

"Young women, age 15-25." She said calmly, " Of course they did."

You didn't respond, just stared into this womens pale eyes. She was starting to creep you out.

"Now, I bet you're wondering where you factor into this equation." She hmms, hand back in your hair. A little rougher.

'Well my dear, I am afraid you just got caught in the crossfire. You see, one of my little experiments just so happened to escape." She sighs, eyes showing some sort of emotion, "She was beautiful, with a strong mind. I even came to view her as a daughter of my own. My little petal."

"Wait..what?"

"Don't interrupt it's rude." This women chides, not cruelly but you knew not to say anything else.

"Now, escaping just wasn't enough for my little petal, oh no. She decided that she needed to expose our...little secret. It was all covered up of course, you know how the government is about things like this, but our funding was cut and our doctors were arrested."

While she was talking you can feel an intense amount of pain. A deep sorrow penetrating your soul and heart. You felt betrayed, hurt.

"Well, imagine my surprise when I turn on the television and see a girl who looks exactly like my little flower."

That's when you knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the manor, Peter was frustrated.

All these people were doing was arguing. Arguing about who should've been watching you, Arguing about what they should have done, what they did do, what they should be doing.

It baffles Peter that these were the feared vigilantes of Gotham.

Bruce was too busy trying to figure out just where you were taken and Christine had deemed him too normal to even be able to help (They didn't know he was Spiderman). Dick and Damian were out trying to find any footage that might have been taken on the scene. Wade was out talking to some of his connections with Cass because Bruce didn't trust him to be alone. So he was stuck being babysat by Tim and Jason who are arguing about the best course of action.

"I'M SAYING WE GO BACK TO THE DINER AND RETRACE OUR STEPS"

"Oh yeah that's a great idea, go to the bad side of town and ask about that one crime that happened in that one alley at night. As if anyone will talk."

"Well it's better than sitting here all-"

Peter tunes them out. He tunes everyone out. He's worried about you.

He knew that you only came here to make things easier for your dad. So he didn't have to watch you 24/7.

But the ironic thing is, Tony was worried out of his mind. He worked endlessly to find these people, people that he may have crossed in the past, people who may want to hurt him through you. Just to turn up with nothing everytime. Peter knew everyone one missed you. Your presence was not unnoticed.

He hated not being able to talk to you everyday, it was like you just didn't exist. He couldn't imagine how you felt, cut off from the only life you'd known

And all that pain for what? Just for the one thing no one wanted to happen come true in the end.

"Ahem." a throat cleared, breaking Peter out of his thoughts

"Sir, I don't mean to disturb you but perhaps now would be a good time to...call in some reinforcements." Alfred implied, softly talk as to not alert the other members of the family of his plan.

Peters brows scrunched in confusion before rising in clarity. He nodded softly, before standing and pardoning himself to the bathroom that Alfred showed him to.

When he was safely away from the commotion, he pulled out his cellphone.

*ring* *ring*

"Talk to me."

"It's Peter!DeadpoolkidnappedmetocomeseeY/ningothamandnowshesgoneandidontknowhattodoan-"

"Woah! Woah slow down Spiderboy, what do you mean you're in Gotham? That's a terrible place to be in."

"No it's Y/n sir! SHe's gone!"

A pause hits Peters ears, he almost thought he got hung up on"

"Peter, what are you saying?"

"They got her Mr. Stark. I'm sorry."

......

"Give me your location, we'll be right there."

#marvel x reader #marvel #tony stark x daughter!reader #reader insert #dc comics x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #x reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader

[radiant-reid]

Angst blurb idea: the first Spencer snaps at reader

The BAU's latest case has been an especially brutal and difficult-to-solve one, weighing heavily on each team member. The stress and exhaustion are palpable, and Spencer, with his brilliant mind and empathetic nature, found himself emotionally drained. You can see it on his face. He's so used to being able to solve things quickly that the unsub's intellectual games are making his head spin.

Late one evening, as you all pour over evidence and theories, the tension in the room reaches its peak. Spencer's patience is waning, his usually calm demeanor fraying at the edges. Frustration bubbles up within him like a volcano ready to erupt.

In the midst of it all, you approach, concern etched across your face. You reach out to touch his arm gently, intending to offer comfort, but it was the final trigger that broke his already fragile composure.

"Can you just give me some space, Y/n?" He snaps, his tone sharp and cutting.

Your eyes widen, hurt washing over your features. It's the first time he has ever spoken to you in such a manner. You recoil, withdrawing your hand and quietly leave the room, searching for another task t do somewhere away from him.

"Reid," Morgan scolds, frowning at his friend. Spencer already knew he messed up and he sighs, standing up.

The words hang heavy in the air, leaving an uncomfortable silence that pierces Spencer's conscience. He knows he had let his stress get the better of him, taking it out on the person he cared about the most. Guilt settles in his chest, a heavy weight that seems unbearable.

Spencer follows you, rushing after the door you had closed behind you. He finds you in the hallway, taking a minute. The sight tears at his heart, and he immediately regrets his outburst.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry." He mumbles, his voice filled with remorse. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that. The case, it's... it's taking a toll on me."

You turn to face him, a mix of hurt and understanding in your eyes. "I know." You assure him. "It's rough, but you don't get to snap at me."

He nods, his gaze downcast. "You're right, and I can't apologize enough. I should have never taken my frustrations out on you. I let my emotions cloud my judgment, and I'm truly sorry."

There was a beat of silence as you both stand there, the weight of the moment hanging in the air.

You nudge his shoulder. "Spencer, I understand that you're under immense pressure." You remind softly. "But we're a team, in work and in our relationship. We have to support each other, even in the toughest moments. Communication is key."

He reaches out for your hand and squeezes it, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "You're right, Y/n. I need to remember that. I'm grateful to have you by my side, reminding me of what's important."

You smile, your heartache slowly easing. "I'm here for you, Spencer. Always. But please, remember that we're in this together. Lean on me when you need to."

He nods, a renewed determination in his gaze. "I promise, Y/n. From now on, I'll do better. I won't let the stress consume me to the point of hurting you."

You wrapped your arms around him in an uncharacteristic display of public affection, pulling him into a comforting embrace. But it doesn't matter when it's what you both need.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Four

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, cuss words, and… angst

Notes: I fell asleep after I decided to add a Jasper dialogue last night… I’m sorry it’s later than normal lol remember, I told yall Jasper has to make up for his being gone😌🫣

Word Count: 2373

Series Masterlist

• March 20th, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

The weekend passed by in a blur, I spent it wishing I got more time with Jasper, but he desperately needed to hunt. So that left me with Quil, if he noticed my far-away mind, he didn’t comment, the new video game he picked up Friday occupied most of his attention.

Friday. I jumped off a cliff with Bella, was rescued by Quil’s ex-best friend, and then the object of my every waking thought showed up at my doorstep.

Friday was a long day, to say the least.

Which brings us to today - Monday. I have to go to school as if it were a normal fucking day, like my weekend hadn’t changed the trajectory of my life. Like my other best friend isn’t in Italy right now fighting to save the man she loves.

Slamming the door shut to my locker, I turn towards the direction of second period when a hulking mass at the other end of the hallway stops me short.

The blonde next to him grins, gracefully walking in my direction as if no more than the weekend had passed since I last saw them.

“Life has been rather dull without you.” Rosalie brings me into a delicate hug, the smile on her face growing.

“I missed you too.” The words aren’t much more than a whisper and my heart twists in my chest, they’re really back.

My eyes haven’t left his and they’re so full of sadness. The hallway empties out, but neither of us has managed to move an inch or look away.

Rose nudges me, “Go.”

A simple word, but the command moves my feet. It started off as one step and then two, but then I’m halfway down the hallway in a full sprint. Emmett takes one large step and then another before I fling myself into his arms, wrapping my own tightly around his neck.

“I hate you.” The words aren’t true, but this ache in my chest can’t be described any other way.

“I know.” His words are muffled as he lifts me.

“I missed you every day.” Tears well in my eyes, making it hard to see the grin splitting Rosalie’s face.

“I missed you more.” He argues back.

Safety, that’s Emmett McCarty Cullen. He’s strength and power and softness that only a man his size with his heart could exude. He is the definition of protector - someone that would go to any lengths to safeguard those closest to him. And just his hugs alone could cure anything, the hug of a brother who cares immensely.

“You left me.” The tremble in my voice gives my hurting heart away.

He clears his throat, “And I put him through hell every day for it.”

“He really has.” Rose confirms, full on smiling at me.

Emmett sets me back down on my own two feet, holding my shoulders in his massive hands, “Never again, I can promise you that.”

“Emmett-” I start, but he isn’t having it.

“Nope, we’re already late for class and I have some catching up to do.” Winking, he offers me one arm and his mate the other, leading us in the direction of next period.

• March 21st, 2006 • Home •

Reader

“Hey, you got a sec?” Knocking on the door frame to my mother’s bedroom, I watch as she turns off her tv.

“For you? Always honey, c’mere.” She pats the bed in front of her, her full attention making me a little nervous.

I sit and work up the courage for a few beats. “He’s back.”

“I know, I saw Doctor Cullen at work yesterday.” Her calm answer surprises me.

“I’m not sure what to do, momma.” I pull at her old bed spread, hoping for some words of wisdom.

“Well, you have options.” Her warm hands cover mine and encourage me to meet her eyes. “You can kick him to the curb since he dropped off the face of the earth for six months.”

“Or?” I ask, provoking her to complete her unfinished advice.

“Or, you can give him another chance.” A beat of silence while I weighed her answer. “You don’t have to do it right away either, you can ask for space to think about it. You can make him talk it out too.”

I process the possibility of cutting him out of my life for all of half a second before my heart tells me it’s impossible.

“Talk to him, I know you need to.” My mother has always been able to read me like a book, it’s why it’s so easy to get along with her.

“Why give me options? Why not forbid me to see him?”

Her knowing smile grows, “Because you’ll do what you want anyways. And no matter how much I want to protect my baby,” she lovingly strokes my cheek, “you have to navigate this in a way that heals that pretty heart of yours. I’d be failing you as a parent to not allow you to figure this out.”

“Mom-” tears threaten the corners of my eyes.

“Don’t think that means I’ll cut him some slack.” She jokes, but her tone includes some seriousness. “He hurt my baby.”

“I love you, you know that?”

“Always sweet pea, I love you too.” She delivers a sloppy kiss to my cheek before reclining back to her previous tv-watching position.

Rising from her bed with a lighter heart in my chest, she stops me at her doorway, “I got your back kid, whatever you decide.”

I turn and give her a genuine smile, “I know, thanks mom.”

• March 22nd, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

Setting my tray down at the dubbed “Cullen table” I make direct eye contact with Edward as I stand before the siblings.

Don’t fucking do that again.

His face splits with a grin. “To which are you referring?”

Leaving her, leaving your family, going to Volterre with a death wish, you fucking idiot.

He actually laughs at my angry directive thoughts, the bastard.

You have people that care about you, you know. My eyes soften as his meet mine seriously. Including me. I’m glad you’re safe. And home.

He nods, unable to meet my eyes now.

“I’d hug you if you weren’t so adverse to physical affection.” Before I finish my statement, he rises from his chair to round the table towards me.

Shock roots me to the spot as his arms envelop lightly around my frame, my arms hesitantly wrapping around the tall Cullen after a beat.

“Thank you.” It’s whispered low enough for just me to hear and he’s returning to his seat.

Emmett’s jaw practically hits the floor, “You’ve never given me a hug-”

“Because your hugs are rather violent in their intensity.” Edward notates.

“But-” Emmett whines.

“No ‘buts’, I’m his favorite.” Sticking out my tongue at Emmett as I take my seat next to Jasper, the jealous vampire launches into a deep explanation of why he must be the family favorite.

“Thank you for starting something I will never hear the end of.” Jasper leans over to whisper in my ear as I grin at Edward who rolls his eyes.

“Glad to be of service.”

Reader

That afternoon I rode with Alice to the Cullen’s after school, something about an intervention with Bella and their family. And naturally, the curious part of me agreed to tag along.

The moment her car comes to a stop in their driveway, Jasper is opening my door and offering me a steadying hand.

“Do you know what this is about?” I ask, watching as Alice skips ahead of us.

“Not a clue, sweet girl.” He answers, leading me inside his family home.

His cool hand enveloping mine sends a pang through my chest, it’s like none of this is real - I’m just in some heavy dream. I’ve wished and hoped for their return with every fucking cell in my body, but now that they’re back? It’s surreal and I’m on edge - I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Standing loosely in a circle in the living room, our attention turns to Bella on the stairs, Edward looming behind her.

“You all know what I want. And I know how much I’m asking for. The only thing I can think of, for it to be fair, is to just vote.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Shut up.” Bella shushes Edward from his grumbling.

Bella is asking them to vote on her becoming a vampire? A slight tremble begins in my hands, this isn’t exactly a debate I’d wished to be a part of. I mean, what would this mean for me? Would we eventually have one of these for me?

“Alice?” Bella asks, opting for starting with the one securely in her corner.

“I already consider you my sister.” She surges forward to wrap her in a hug. “Yes.”

One vote yes.

“Thank you.”

“I vote yes.” The rumble of Jasper’s chest under the hand I have placed there stops my breathing. “It would be nice to not want to kill you all the time.”

It would be nice to not want to kill you all the time. The words ring in my ears and burn my chest, repeating.

Two votes yes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry to both of you for how I’ve acted. And I’m really grateful that you were brave enough to go and save my brother.” Rosalie’s next sentence a quiet confession within her answer, “But this isn’t a life I would’ve chosen for myself. And I wish there had been someone there to vote no for me. So, no.”

A breath, one vote no.

“I vote hell yeah.” Em spins her around in his excitement, “We can pick a fight with these Volturi some other day.”

Three votes yes, one vote no.

“I already consider you a part of the family, yes.” Esme happily gives her blessing as Carlisle steps forward to look at Edward.

Four votes yes, it’s almost unanimous.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He asks his adoptive father. “You know what this means.”

“You’ve chosen not to live without her, which leaves me no choice. I won’t lose my son.”

Carlisle’s answer is like a gavel being slammed down, sealing her fate, confirming what she wants.

Bella meets my eyes, even I can tell relief floods them as I’m sure anxiety fills mine. She’s going to turn into one of them - a vampire.

Jasper

After a few heavy minutes following the votes of my family, I turn to Y/n.

“Would you like to go home? It’s getting late.” I ask her, but her eyes are distant.

Immediately I gently probe at her emotions, but I can feel her trying to suppress them. I furrow my brow as I look down at her, why is she hiding from me?

I tilt her chin back and she removes herself entirely. Ice, I know as a vampire my core temperature is already low from the absence of blood in my system, but with her physical departure - it feels as though every ounce of warmth has been zapped from my very soul.

“I need time.” Her request is hardly a whisper and her eyes still refuse to meet mine.

Shock roots me to the floor, time? She’s asking for time from me. Not with, from. Away. Without.

And I must grant it to her. I’d give her anything in this world she would ask for.

I remove myself a step back from her even though my chest wishes to tug me forward.

“Emmett?” I ask aloud, not taking my eyes from her, he immediately answers by way of flashing to my side. “Take her home?”

“Of course, but-?” Curiosity tinged with sadness finishes what he fails to ask.

“Just get her home safe, please.” I step aside, forcing my eyes to my shoes as I clear the path to the front door for them.

Emmett escorts her outside and I swear, every bit of strength leaves and threatens to buckle me. I watch as the Jeep’s tail lights disappear down the driveway from the front windows.

“It’s the right thing to do.” Esme lays a hand on my shoulder as she watches with me, I hate the truth in her words. “She needs to process everything, we haven’t given her the chance and now this with Isabella, it’s a lot.”

“I know.”

Love. “Come here.”

I turn into her waiting arms, the overwhelming urge to cry hits me like a fucking freight train when her arms pull me close.

“She will be back, just be patient with her.”

“What if she realizes-”

“Nonsense, she’s hopelessly in love with you.”

I pull back to inspect her face, “What?”

She smiles at me in only the way a mother really can, “My son, trust me. Give her a few days, but she needs to know that love is returned.”

“How do you-”

“I’ve known since the day you first brought her home. I knew then she was yours before you ever figured out she was your singer, I’m a mom like that.” Winking at me, she pats my shoulder. “She makes you happier, lighter. It makes me happy to finally see that in you.”

Venomous tears make my vision swim, more often than not I take the fact that Esme mothers us in ways unique to every single one of us for granted.

Glancing down, I clear my throat like a typical male trying to avoid being emotional, “Thank you, Esme.”

“Dear, you never have to thank me, I love you more than you know.”

“I love you too.” I kiss her on the cheek, our talk having smoothed out my frayed nerves.

Time. I can give her time to think, to process everything that’s happened in the last week. But then she’s mine - she has to know how I feel about her. And if she wants nothing to do with me after that?

Well, I guess I’d give her that too.

But not until after I fight for her, because fighting for her is in my bones. Fighting is all I’ve ever known and it’s time I put it to good use.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#jasper hale x reader #redamancy series #bless-my-demons #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #twilight #jasper hale #female reader insert

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 49

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: friday... just eight more hours of work

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The world trickles back into existence as it shifts around you. A jarring collison has you groaning as your body slides on the floor, just a few inches. You grumble and sit up, back to the door as it's once more pushed from the other side.

You crawl out of way as Loki enters. You stand, wobbly with fatigue, and face him. He snaps the door shut, blocking it with his lithe figure as he looks at you.

“Pet, what are you doing sleeping on the floor?” He reprimands.

You clear your throat and rub your cheek, “waiting for you–”

“Don't,” he warns tersely, “you will not guilt me.”

“I wasn't,” you pout, “I only… never mind.”

You go to the bed and slip under the blankets. You're too tired and hurt and confused. Sleep doesn't help, it only makes it worse. Every time you close your eyes, you hear Thor's sinister timbre and his demeaning words. You feel his weight on you, suffocating you.

You hear Loki moving around the room. You expect him to come to bed but his footfalls trail into the bathroom. The faucet cranks loudly followed by the splashing of water on porcelain. 

You turn onto your back and look at the open door to the bathroom. You stare, waiting. Still he does not emerge. You sit up as your eyes drift over. You should leave it, just for the night. It's late and you're both exhausted.

You hang your legs over the side of the bed and push the blankets away. You get up and pad over to the door, keeping close to the wall. You turn the handle, twisting cautiously as you hold your breath.

You stop and wait. He's not coming. You hear him sighing and muttering.

You leave the door ajar and tiptoe out into the hall. You won't go far, you just want to walk around, to get the kinks out of your muscles. Just to feel that tiny tug on your leash.

Your feet carry you downstairs without a thought. You go to the french doors and peer out through the panes at the night. You flip the latch back and ease the door inward. You breathe in the cool but fresh air.

You let it wash over you, trying to cleanse yourself as you shiver. It would all be easier if you could just say it aloud. If he would just listen.

You hear footsteps on the stairs. You quickly shut the door and back away, hiding in the shadows as the moonlight peers in. Loki rushes over and searches through the glass. He grips the handle but before he can rip the door open, you sniff and catch his attention. 

“I was just looking,” you murmur.

“Why would you scare me like that?” He snaps and grabs you by the shoulders, wrenching you away from the wall.

“I didn't mean too,” you whimper, “I just wanted to stretch my legs–”

“You cannot sneak off. You cannot,” he shakes you, “I…” he bites down on his thoughts before they can bubble over. “I only mean well for you, pet.”

“You're hurting me,” you whisper as you touch his wrists, “please–”

“I…” he loosens his grip and brushes his hands down your arms, “come back to bed.”

You try to see him through the dark. With his back to the silver moon, you only find a featureless silhouette. You reach to slip his hand from your arm and cling to him. You know it's better to appease him.

You pull him away from the door and turn back through the silent house. You should’ve known better. You’re not even sure why you wandered that far. Maybe just to see anything but those same four walls.

You go back upstairs and he lets you go as you enter the bedroom. He turns to shut the door firmly, dragging his hand down the wood. You look away. He has become your warden.

You climb into bed and pull the rumpled blankets over yourself once more. He nestles in next to you as you lay back against the pillows. He kisses your shoulder, a surprisingly gentle gesture. Had he not lectured you hours before for talking too much?

The pendulum of his moods has you swinging just as wildly.

“Pet, I only want to keep you safe, you understand, don’t you?” He tickles along your arm as his gaze sears into you. You stare at the ceiling restraining your exasperation.

“I do but… there’s a gate, you don’t need to keep me in just this room, do you?”

He doesn’t respond as he rubs your arm. He shimmies closer and stretches his arm across you. He holds you close as he sighs.

“I’m tired,” he says and presses his chin to the top of your head. The conversation’s over. Again.

✨

You drift into a black void. At first, there are no dreams. You are nothing, you feel nothing. A rare taste of peace before the fractured visions break through the blackness.

Trees, towering above you, leaves like curtains above, blocking out the sky, casting darkness all around you. You’re running, gasping for breath as the thunder rolls behind you. You hear it, you feel it, shaking the earth beneath your bare feet.

You glance down at your white dress, streaked in blood and mud. You stumble forward, shielding yourself with your arms as the brush scratches your flesh. Your feet slip and slide and tendrils coil around your limbs. The vines wrap around you, restraining you as the storm cracks above you.

The thunder peters out to grizzly laughter. A burly figure emerges from the umbrous space between the thick trumps. It’s him; Thor. His blue eyes glow as the cut across his cheek leaks and he opens and closes his massive fists. He comes closer, until he’s right before you.

He raises his hands to your throat and circles his fingers around it. You squeak as he squeezes, tighter and tighter. He chokes you until your vision speckles. Your eyes lull back in your skull and when you can breathe again, you’re sarong up at the leaves, fragments of the sky peeking between the foliage.

There’s a tremor beneath you. As if the earth moves. Then you realise, it’s you. You’re moving. There’s something atop you. Someone. Smothering you. Rutting into you as your bones split and your insides burn like acid.

You smell wet mud and pine, a hint of sweat seeping into your lungs. Thor’s beastly growls crawl over your skin as he bites into your throat, pinching until you shriek. He holds you down as he snaps his pelvis against you, threatening to break you in half.

Your eyes open and a shadow hovers over you. Reality slowly sets in as you stare at the ceiling, damp breaths puffing over your face. Your chest binds and you choke on your own breath. It’s real.

He purrs as he kisses your cheek, holding himself above you as he lays between your legs. His hand is buried against your pelvis as he pets you, kissing you all over your face and neck. You whimper and hit his shoulders. He’s gentle but unyielding. Your head is pounding and your body aches.

The panic flows up from your stomach and a sheet of ice covers your body. You blink. What’s happening? It’s him. It must be him. How did he get to you?

“Stop!” You cry out, “stop!”

“Pet?” The warped voice calls to you.

“No, Thor! No, please, don’t– don’t hurt me!” You beg as your eyes narrow on the figure over you.

To your surprise, he stops. He lifts himself stiffly from you and a long arm reaches over to pull on the chain of the lamp. The bulb illuminates Loki’s features, his face wrought in terror that mirrors your own. You thought…

“I’m sorry, I—”

“You think I am like him? Like that monster–”

“No, no, I was dreaming, and—”

“Pet, you were moaning, you… I thought you were—” he swallows and pushes himself off you altogether, “awake.”

He sits up and sings his legs over the edge of the bed. He bends forward and holds his head. You don’t move as you watch him. You’re mortified. The bed jostles as he stands abruptly.

“I am not like him,” he snarls, “pet, you know– I… you begged me for more. You were crying out my name and now you treat me as some monster.”

You sit up, lip trembling, “no, I was confused. I was asleep, I didn’t know–” You scramble to the foot of the bed as he strides away.

“You think I would let him get his hands on you again? You wander off and tell me you are safe and yet here you are, screaming,” he huffs as he turns on you, “as if I haven’t taken every measure to keep you safe and you override them, then tell me not to worry.”

“Loki, please, just… I don’t need locked doors, I need you to talk to me,” you stand and rush towards him, latching onto his arm, “I need you to hear me.”

“I heard you,” he shudders as he looks down at your touch, “you called me by his name.”

“Because… because…” you suck in a shaky breath as a sob threatens to spill over, “because you won’t listen–”

“No, you will not listen. Hm? You will not obey me and that is all I’ve ever asked of you. You will not stay where I can keep you safe. From him,” he hisses, “you will not hear me when I tell you it is for your own good. You do not see what I do for you.”

He shakes his head and rips free of your clutch, “I took you away from that ogre you called a father. By my measure, no one ever bothered to do so much. Not even a birthday cake.

"I have given you a home, a purpose. I was a fool, I put you in harm’s way, I acknowledge my errors,” he tilts his head and curls his lips, “but I saved you. I found you and I made sure he did not hurt you. I have kept you safe which you cannot say about anyone else.”

“Loki, don’t,” you wilt as your heart pangs. He is right but that doesn't mean it doesn’t hurt.

“If you hadn’t run away, if you had trusted me,” he accuses as he wags his finger at you. “To think I would ever want her again. After all I’ve done for you, I would not throw those efforts away.”

Your lip quivers and you recoil, pressing your hands above your heart, “no, you wouldn’t throw away all you’ve done, but what about me? I am what you call you, am I not? A pet? A stray you picked up off the street.”

“Perhaps, for you have become rabid,” he retorts.

You flinch and take a step back. You curl your fingers through each other, keeping your hands over your chest. Your tears spill over as you push your lower lip out and croak his name. You shake your head, trying to ward off your despair but it only rains down harder. You sob and cover your mouth.

His brow twitches and his cheek tics. You see the doubt colour his eyes. He reaches for you, “pet, I–”

You back away and turn your back to him, “leave me alone.”

“I didn’t mean… we are both very emotional,” he pleads as his fingertips graze your shoulder.

You shrug him off and keep ahead of him, “no, no, don’t touch me,” you hurry towards the bathroom.

“Pet–”

“I am not your pet!” You spin as you enter the bathroom and he staggers just a foot away, stunned by the swell of your anger, “I am nothing. Just as you say, my own father couldn’t love me.”

“I didn’t–”

You slam the door and throw yourself against it. You flick the lock into place and lean against the wood, heaving painfully as your sadness rattles through you. He slaps the door from the other side and says your name.

“You did!” You holler through, “you said what you meant. You told… the truth.” You sink down to your knees, crumpling onto the tile, “so leave me alone. What do you care anyway?”

He repeats your name, softer and you hear him slide down the outside of the door, “I care… if I didn’t…”

“Be quiet,” you murmur in exhaustion.

He abides, just for a moment before he speaks again, “I will be here… when you require me.”

You lay in a heap. Weak and worn out. You just want him to leave you alone. If he can’t let you free, then he can go away. You don’t need him to remind you that he’s all you have.

You gulp as sobs force their way up your throat. You cry until your head pulses and your throat is hoarse. You cry until you are drained dry. You’re left bleary and broken.

Walpurgisnacht is supposed to mark a new beginning but everything is just as bleak as it always was.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dirty work #series #dark fic #dark!fic #marvel #mcu #au #maid au #avengers

[ztarvokwrites]

doffy & croc - witnessing their s/o almost die

author's note; slowly getting back in my groove!! again posts will be slow so uhhh yeah! i missed writing these two tbh 🫶🏻 this has been briefly proof-read!

reader is nb (they/them)!

trigger warnings; death, you almost die whoops!, angry doffy, angry croc, very slight gore mention, angst, comfort??

word count; 1,597

»»————-　★　————-««

Donquixote Doflamingo - the former King of Dressrosa and feared former Warlord of the Sea. Nobody expected him to be beaten by Monkey D Luffy and Trafalgar Law, yet he was. You and a few others who hid from the Marines were lucky enough to escape, yet your heart hurt immensely once you saw your beloved Doflamingo be taken to custody by the Marines.

"Y/N, we have to go!" Called one of Doflamingo's family members. You looked back at them, worry written all over your face.

"But, Doffy-"

"Y/N, it's too late now... Come on, let's go!"

After you escaped, you wondered if your lover was still alive. It had been quite a few months now and you still had no clue. That was, until somebody placed a hand on your shoulder.

"My dear Y/N," Spoke the familiar voice. Your breath hitched. "Did you forget about me, hm?" You turned around in an instant and grinned, looking up at the man you've missed with all your heart.

"DOFFY! How did you escape Impel Down?!" You exclaimed as he picked you up effortlessly in his arms. Doflamingo just laughed, kissing you sweetly on your neck and drawing a soft hum from your lips.

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be, Y/N~" He cooed before finally kissing you on the lips, clearing your mind of any thought you might've had about his strange statement. It was calm after that day—the both of you effortlessly hiding and running away from Marines and beginning to build up another Donquixote Family Crew. However, most good things must come to an end...

The battle between the Marines and your crew raged on, you shot and slashed at any Marine that dared to stand in your path. Your head turned to look at Doflamingo for a moment, a smile on your face as you watched your beloved coldly slaughter each Marine that tried to attack him.

As you turned, however, a sharp pain entered your abdomen. You loudly gasped, eyes widening as you looked down - a sword plunged deep into your body and coming out the other end. You looked the Marine dead in the eyes as he took out his sword and slashed you again, the sharp blade piercing your skin and plunging deep into your stomach. The Marine slashed again and again and again until finally, he stopped, letting you splutter and cough out blood, your legs getting weaker and weaker by the second.

Doflamingo turned upon hearing you splutter and cough, his grin faltering as he watched the blood spurt out of your mouth and wounds before you fell to the ground, seemingly in slow motion. He watched with a straight face as you began to choke, your eyes struggling to stay open as you looked up at your lover. You didn't say a thing as your body twitched, wanting to move but being too weak to do so. Doflamingo's veins bulged out of his skin in silent anger as your body stopped moving, the light in your eyes dimming with each second that passed. He wouldn't let this slide - he couldn't. In a flash, he was in front of the Marine that killed you, slicing and dicing him without mercy until he was a vile, bloody mesh on the ground before him. More Marines began to attack him, but he stood his ground; mercilessly killing them all while standing by your unconscious body, seemingly protecting you from further harm.

"DOFFY! THE SHIP'S READY!" Yelled one of the crew members. Doflamingo ignored them, instead opting to kill every single Marine that was there until no more arrived. He softly panted, his rage still boiling inside of him as he scanned the area. Once he determined that no more Marines were there - or alive - he took your body into his arms and walked with you to the ship. Immediately, the ships' doctors ran over and placed you on a bed and began to treat you all the while Doflamingo is watching them like a hawk.

"...If they die," Doflamingo began, his eyes glaring daggers at the doctors in the room, a bulge of a vein in her forehead. "Then you're all dying with them. Don't you dare mess this up." Fear struck the hearts of everyone in the room as they swiftly complied to his demands, working effortlessly to stitch your wounds and save your life. You didn't wake up for a while after that—your body needed a lot of time to recover, after all. And, it was a miracle when you did.

Doflamingo stayed by your bedside the entire time; holding your hand and even eating next to you as you healed up. He hated seeing you in that medical bed—it reminded him of his mother when she was sick and the memory made his blood run cold with pure rage. But, when he saw your hand twitch, he snapped out of his thoughts and grabbed your smaller hand in his, the eyes behind his shades watching over you intensely. You didn't make a noise, nor did you move your body any more than a twitch, but Doflamingo took that as a first sign of you waking up.

It was like a switch, the way the man sat down beside where you laid, his larger hand clasped around yours as he silently pleaded for you to wake up. And when you did—oh boy, when you opened your eyes and looked around before your gaze landed on his—he was ecstatic beyond words. His large, somewhat uncomfortable grin that you adored had returned to his features, his hand tightening around yours as you uttered your first words in what felt like years;

"Doffy..."

»»————-　★　————-««

Ever since Crocodile escaped Impel Down, he made it his mission to find you again. After all, you were one of the few members of Baroque Works that he actually trusted, liked, and eventually dated. You were very dear to him, and he'd be damned if someone had stolen your heart away from him while he was away. But when he found you, walking in the rain with your umbrella and bag in hand, he froze, unsure of what to do. What could he do to make this less awkward? He could just walk up to you and say hello, but he feared that you didn't remember him—or you might be scared off. His closest associate, Daz Bones, took note of this sudden change in demeanour, and he was about to ask what was wrong until his own eyes landed on you. His gaze softened, a low sigh leaving his lips.

"It would be better to just go up to them and talk instead of gawking from afar." Says Daz, crossing his arms. Crocodile glowered at him, his brows furrowed as he growled at him to be quiet.

"...Croc...?" Your soft voice, filled with relief and shock, snapped him out of his intense glare and made him turn to you, his brows shooting up in awe. You remembered him, and you weren't scared. The taller man soon took you with him, where you—as well as himself and Daz Bones—took off. It was relatively peaceful...

Until it wasn't.

Outnumbered. Cornered. Separated. Afraid. The Marines had found the three of you and managed to separate you from the two men. Your Devil Fruit power was no match, but you fought anyway, hurling attack after attack at them until—

BANG!

SLICE!

One Marine had sliced your back from behind and the other shot your abdomen from the front, leaving you gasping for air and crumpling to the floor like a sack of potatoes. As the Marines were about to take you away, they were sliced into pieces. Daz had come to protect you, just as he was ordered too, but it was far too late—the state you were in left little to your survival rate, blood pouring out of your wounds as your eyes darted to the man in front of you. In silence, Daz picked you up and carried you over to Crocodile, who had made his way over after killing many other Marines. One look at you, and Crocodile was enraged.

Before the Marines could come any closer, he killed them—whether it was from strangulation, asphyxiation, or if he chopped them to pieces. They were all dead within seconds.

"Let's board our ship," Said the former Warlord, his stoic expression unreadable. "And get the hell outta here."

Hours pass, and a doctor's team have finished treating your wounds upon Crocodiles threat of murder and promise of a hefty amount of Berries. They leave the ship with the money they're given, and the two men set off with you in bed, peacefully unconscious for what the doctors predict could be a few days. Crocodile never left your side. Not even once. All his meals were brought to him as he sat at your bedside, making sure you didn't die and changing the bandages every so often.

It was well into the night when you eventually stirred awake, a soft groan leaving your lips and alerting him from his slumber. His golden eyes pierced through yours as your eyes met through the dim light of the lamp.

"...You're alive." He spoke, a hint of shock in his relieved tone of voice, his gaze softening as he leant forward and cupped your cheek with his hand. You placed your hand on his golden hook and weakly smiled.

"That I am..." You responded, your voice hoarse from being unconscious for so long. Crocodile missed your voice. He missed you.

»»————-　★　————-««

#ztarvokwrites #one piece #one piece x reader #doflamingo imagine #one piece scenario #crocodile x reader #crocodile #doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x reader

[shoddynomenclature]

hiii ... idk if you do requests exactly but if u wanted id love to hear about the companions w/ a werewolf reader ? maybe its a full moon and reader has kept it a secret until now . but instead of being in a mindless violent rampage they are just kinda ... dog brained

thank u in advance ... take ur time or dont bother if u dont wanna :)

BG3 Ladies x Werewolf!Reader

I finally got a day off yesterday and I used it to write for like 8 hours so enjoy your second day of content in a row.

A lot of people have asked for companions react to Bhaal smiting the dark urge and I’m working on it, but unfortunately I’m only on act 2 of my durge run. So that one will be a while.

In better news my Minthara folks can expect a very spicy piece at some point this week!

Shadowheart

As soon as Shadowheart sees you in your wolf form, she is terrified and runs away from you as fast as she can.

It’s only when you cautiously approach camp that her mother actually points out you’re a lycanthrope. She picks up on it pretty easily given her husband shares the same affliction.

“They don’t seem to be aggressive, though” she observes, slightly confused. She tentatively taps her legs, beckoning you to come.

When you happily pad over to her, she scratches you behind the ears and you give a satisfied smile.

She sits down on the ground and continues to pet your head.

Shadowheart is still curled up on the bed, unwilling to take part in any of this.

“Oh come on Shads, you must admit, it’s kinda cute.” Her mom says as your tongue lulls from your mouth.

The closest she gets to comfortable with you that first night is a brief game of fetch. She’ll throw the ball as long as she doesn’t have to wrestle it from your maw.

The game is over though when the ball gets too slimy for her liking.

It’ll take a little while, but perhaps it’ll grow on her eventually.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel doesn’t really know much about wolves or dogs, but she’s not particularly fond of the one that’s following her around camp.

She tries to pawn you off to Karlach, but you want her so she has very little luck with that.

When it starts to get really late, she starts to worry. Where have you gone? You’ve never been out this late.

She eventually puts two and two together and realizes you are the dog that keeps pestering her.

Once she figures it out, she just tries to treat you like your normal self, which is immensely confusing to your little dog brain.

Lae’zel gets very frustrated very quickly. It takes Halsin to calm her down and teach her how to interact with you appropriately.

Every time you do something new she looks at Halsin to tell her how to react.

You flip onto your back. “Can I just keep petting them here?” Halsin nods.

In the morning, she requires quite a hefty apology and explanation as to why you wouldn’t tell her about this.

Karlach

Karlach is almost too welcoming to stray wolf that wants to wander into camp. But it’s certainly not the oddest thing that’s come into camp.

She treats you like a normal dog at first, but after persistent whining and leading her to your bed multiple times, she finally catches on.

“You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf! That’s so cool!” She exclaims, but then her faces starts to grow concerned. “Wait, you’re not gonna flip out on anyone tonight, are you? Do I need to lock you in a cage or something?”

You whine and lay down on the floor.

“Aww, you’re not gonna hurt nobody are you, sweet puppy?” She sits on the floor next to you and rubs your shoulders.

She spends the rest of the night playing with you like she would any other dog, chasing you around camp, wrestling, and petting you.

That night she snuggles up next to you, cuddling you in her arms as you lay on your side.

You wake up just as you do any other morning, in her arms, fully humanoid again.

Minthara

Minthara is unsure what to do with this dog that keeps following her around.

You do your best to actually follow her commands to keep from pissing her off, but you’re really trying to get her to understand it’s you.

You wind up going to your tent and picking up something of yours. One of your shoes should work.

When you approach Minthara with the shoe hanging from your mouth, she grows increasingly agitated with you. “Put that down! That’s not yours!”

You whine and set the shoe down, putting your paw in the shoe to indicate it’s yours.

“Are you… a werewolf?” She asked, confused. You bark in affirmation.

She spends the night allowing you to follow her around, and, as long as you follow instructions, she’s actually quite fond of your dog form.

Most of the night she spends reading a book while occasionally throwing a ball for you to go fetch.

She doesn’t see the point of the game, but you seem to enjoying yourself and it’s only mildly inconveniencing her.

At the end of the night, you move to climb up onto her bed, but she stops you with an “absolutely not” and motions for you to lay on the floor beside her.

Jaheira

As a Druid, Jaheira can speak with you even in dog form.

Once you explain the situation to her, she rolls her eyes but smiles. She should’ve known you were a werewolf.

She doesn’t worry too much about you going fully into beast mode, as you show no signs of aggression or agitation.

But you do stink. And she tells you as much. She’s gonna give you a bath.

Your dog mind causes you to protest. You don’t want a bath. There’s no way she’s getting you in a tub.

It takes a little deception and some meat from the camp supplies to get you in the bath in under 5 minutes.

She cleans you off despite your constant whining and by the end you’re actually surprised you feel better. Less itchy.

She dries you off with a towel and you give yourself a couple good shakes.

Once you’re all clean and dried, she wild shapes into a wolf so you two can spend the night curled up around each other.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 minthara #minthara #minthara x tav #minthara x reader #bg3 karlach #karlach #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel #lae’zel x tav #lae'zel #laezel x reader #jaheira x reader #bg3 jaheira #jaheira x tav #jaheira #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav