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sunnygrey99 · 8 months

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Honey, Smoke, Lemon, and Oak Pt 3

~Trigger Warning: Typical TLOU warnings. Self Harm, suicidal tendencies, severe mental illness, PTSD, gore, psychological torture, slight implications of previous abuse/SA (minors DNI) If any other Triggers apply please let me know.~

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Violence, Murder, Death, Smut

A/N: This is a rough chapter. I'm trying to be as accurate to an unpredictable mental illness as I can be. As someone who suffers from severe mental illness I do not take it lightly. Please if you are suffering or need help Tumblr offers resources that can really help.

Wordcount: 2,546

Summary: Plus size!Reader is a Beekeeper and Medical Scientist living in Jackson. A simple meeting of a new friend slowly becomes so much more. Reader is immune. Reader is given a nickname. (This fic will have very dark tones though out. This deals with the unfortunate reality that men do disgusting things to women regardless of the world having ended. All chapters will include warnings and tag warnings. Please take care in reading.)

Its been a couple weeks since Ellie started school. You missed her during the mornings but she never failed to show up after school even just to do her homework next to you as you worked. Joel of course still working in the barn and every once in awhile coming back up to where ever you and Ellie were to take breaks and check up on you both. It was nice seeing them but after they leave each night you could feel the anxiety and hurt edging back into you.

You haven’t slept in the last three nights and its starting to show. Today as soon as you open the door and greet Joel he is looking at you with a deep set concern.

“You doin’ alright today Miss Bunny?” His hand stretches out just about to touch you in case you need support.

You pull back fast and stumble slightly into the door frame, “I’m just fine, thank you.” You pull your arms across your chest and seem to shrink in on yourself. “You can take the day off if you want. I was going to spend today in the barn.”

Joel seems to take the information in and mulls it over for a moment. His concern still intensely written across his features. “I don’t think thats a very good idea-”

You interrupt him quickly, “I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do Mr.Miller. It is my job to make that medication. The town needs it.”

Joel’s features go from concern to confusion to anger in the blink of an eye. “I’m just tryin’ to look out for you. You look like you ain’t slept in a week and now you’re snappin’ at me.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me I said I’m fine. Leave.” With those words you slam the door and start pacing your home. You know its wrong the second the words leave your mouth. Its been months since you felt like this. The last time it happened it took weeks for you to come back from it. Maria found you and helped bring you back last time but at the cost of permanent damage to your friendship. You know she’ll never fully trust you again after that. You can’t let it happen to anyone else.

The next thirty minutes are spent by you locking and boarding up every window and door in the house. If no one can come in while you are like this then they wont get hurt.

~~~

Joel is dumbfounded and stands on your porch for five minutes trying to understand what just happened. He devolves into anger and annoyance and stalks off to find some other work to keep him busy for the day.

Another week passes and Joel finds himself at Maria and Tommy’s place helping them get ready for the new baby. Shes due in just a couple months and both Tommy and Maria are in a tizzy trying to make sure everything is ready for the new addition to the family.

“Ya know it doesn’t have to be perfect right Tommy?” Joel’s tone light and relaxed in the presence of family.

Tommy scuffs and rearranges the fabric diapers and towels again, “I know but I just want it to make sense. Its gonna be hard enough raising a kid in this world let alone having things disorganized once they get here.”

Joel chuckles at his brother, “It was a shitty world then and its a shitty world now, either way ain’t keepin that organized for more than a day when the kiddo gets here.”

Maria walks in then hand on her belly and the other carrying a small box of extra baby stuff. Tommy rushes over grabbing the box from her. “The Doc said not to lift anything and you should be in bed resting.”

“I can’t just lay in bed for the next few months and you know that. Besides the Doc said I can’t lift more than ten pounds. That’s less than eight.” Maria smiles at her husband and pats his cheek before giving him a small peck on the lips.

Joel watches the contentedness wash over their features. A sense of envy fills his own chest. He misses that feeling. Recognizing that he had something similar with Sarah’s mom before she left and he hadn’t felt that want since she did. He also feels a bit of jealousy at his brother having what he wishes he did when Sarah’s mom was pregnant. Joel hadn’t even known about Sarah until she was dropped off by a social worker when she was a week old. Most surprising of all is his sudden want for a chance at that again. He feels himself try to shake off the thoughts. Immediately replaced by the feelings of grief, sadness, and loss. Anger being the most present. The two others in the room oblivious to the change in Joel’s demeanor. Maria turns the Joel then, “So hows the barn coming along?”

Joel huffs and rolls his eyes at that, “Just fine till Bunny told me to fuck off.”

Maria looks over to Tommy with confusion and concern immediately written across her face. She looks back to Joel, “What do you mean she told you to fuck off?”

He simply shrugs. “Looked like she hadn’t slept in a few, asked her if she was alright…damn near chewed my head off for it. Told me to leave so I did.”

She takes a step closer the concern only worsening, “Joel this is very important. How long ago was this?”

He squints his eyes at her then his brother. He feels as if he is missing something important, like he doesn’t know something they do. His eyes shift back over to Maria, “A week ago.”

She curses under her breath before looking at Tommy. “You see her in the past week at all?” He simply shakes his head no. “Tommy we need to get the doc to her ASAP.” He nods and starts heading to the truck Maria right behind him.

Joel stands there confused for a moment lost in thought as to what might be the reason that the doc would be needed. He almost just brushes it off and lets them deal with it, but something in him is telling him to get a move on and help. Clearly something is wrong and Bunny needs help.

Its not even twenty minutes later they are all standing at the front door. Maria banging on the door with no answer. Joel peers into the window to see if there is any movement. “Looks like she’s got the windows and doors blocked from the inside. What the hell is goin’ on with her?”

Maria huffs as she paces the porch, “I should have known when she didn’t come over Tuesday. She never misses bringing me meds.”

“You didn’t tell me she didn’t drop those off.” Tommy voices from the bottom of the porch stairs.

“I still had meds I would have been fine. I thought she would just be by tomorrow when she drops off the rest to the clinic.” Maria walks back to the door again and calls your name. She tries again just a couple more times hoping your real name would coax you out sooner. They all hear a rustling around from inside the house and she calls for you again. “Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!”

Joel can see the tears prickling in Maria’s eyes. He hasn’t ever seen her this emotional and distressed even with the pregnancy hormones. He looks to Tommy and recognizes the same sad look in his eyes that he had when he himself had gone off the deep end. It suddenly struck him what was happening. That’s when they all hear the shattering of glass come from inside the house.

~~~

You’ve been pacing the bottom floor of the house for you don’t even know how long. Sleeping only in small increments when your body allows it. That voice creeping in slowly. His voice. Its been so long since you’d heard it but you remember the condescending tone anywhere. At first it sounded far away like he was yelling from the yard but then he was closer and closer. He always knows where you are in the house without actually being here. He sounds like hes in the walls now.

“Little girl, you can’t run away from me now…” His voice makes you tremble in fear. “I know where you are…I know your every thought.”

“no….no just….just leave me alone please. I’ve given you enough of me.” Your hands squeeze around the leather handle of your knife as you pace in the center of the living room.

“NO! I WANT IT ALL! YOU’RE MINE!” His voice echoes out. Its almost enough to cover the banging at your front door. That’s when you hear your name being called in a familiar, sweeter voice.

“Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!” The voice carried through the walls you had built up. You don’t remember this person, only a small spark of familiarity.

You walk to the front door hand out stretched yet hesitant to take down the furniture blocking the way. “Don’t you dare trust her. She just wants to steal you away from me. You don’t want that do you little girl? She’ll hurt you.” Your trembling hands pull back and reach to cover your ears, the blade from your knife brushing slightly against your cheek.

“She sounds nice, I think I know her.” Your voice just a hushed whisper.

“STUPID GIRL! You can’t trust anyone but me! I kept you safe all those years and THIS is how you repay me?” His voice booms as you stumble back some slicing open your cheek. “It looks like I need to teach you another lesson. A round of iron should teach you better.” Its then that you see him emerge from the wall. A fire poker in hand and red hot. You see his hands wring around the iron grip and a gleeful look in his otherwise dead eyes. The bullet hole in his forehead still oozing blood like the last time you saw him. And the same devious, wicked smile plastered on his face. As he inches forward you feel yourself pushed back into fight or flight mode. You reach to the nearest objects and start throwing them at him, hoping to deter him from coming any closer. Once hes only a few inches away you let out a blood curdling scream. Moments later furniture flies away from its barricade spot and the door breaks off its hinges.

A man you don’t recognize walks towards you in a hurry, light shining behind him as if he is some sort of angel. Unsure of what to make of the man you shuffle away. The man of your nightmares dissipated into thin air as the new man stops in his tracks. His movements much slower now as if trying to calm a scared and wild animal. You can see his lips move but you don’t hear any sound right away. The golden light behind him is almost blinding as it washes over the cold room. It warms your skin as you look down at yourself and see the light gracing your form. Looking back up at the man you smile. “Is it safe? Is he gone?”

The man kneels down in front of you and slowly nods. He reaches up and starts to take the knife from you. That’s when the light behind him starts to fade into an inky black. Panic quickly floods back into your system, and your grip hardens on the knife. “No! GET AWAY FROM ME!” You kick at him and scramble to move away. He lets go and steps back quickly.

“Bunny please, I promise I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He watches you intently and you in-turn watch him. The light and inky black fighting back and forth around the man. Swirling and mixing yet never quite touching. Your gaze still lays on his features with no trust. He waits on a few moments before speaking back up. “I’ll stay right here okay? I just need you to put the knife down.”

The panic quickly grows and your eyes flick from him to the knife and back to him. “I won’t let him or any other man get me again.” You quickly flip the knife back to yourself and plunge the knife deep into your abdomen.

As your body feels the sudden numbness pool in your abdomen reality crashes back in. Eyes locked with Joel’s as he stands there stunned. “Joel…I…” You look back down to your abdomen, “Oh god what…did I do?” Dropping to your knees, hands grabbing at the still plugged wound. Your hands smearing the dripping blood as you feel another pair of hands on you keeping you from fully falling to the ground.

You hear Joel’s voice calling out something. He sounds panicked but you can’t quite understand what he is saying. All the sound around you muffled as if you were stuck in a dream. The inky black that had been around Joel enveloping your own vision as you hear more voices get added to the muddled sound.

~~~

Joel yells out to the group on the porch, “Doc! We need the Doc in here!” He cradles your shoulders as he rocks you back and forth slowly. His other arm pulling your legs to get you laying more flat. The blood pouring out from your wound coats Joel’s clothes and hand. Your eyes only half open staring up at him, pupils blown wide. You try muttering something out and weakly raise your arm. He was quick to hold you and shush you. “It’s alright Miss Bunny, we are gonna fix this. Everything is going to be okay.”

Time seems to stand still for hours as he looked deep into your eyes. His own filling with tears he hadn’t realized he could have for anyone more than he already had. It was when your eyes rolled fully back and the doctor pulled you from his grip that he himself blacked out. The next thing Joel knew he was standing with Ellie next to your sleeping form in a hospital bed.

Ellie’s hand squeezing yours and silent tears rolling down her own face. Joel does the only thing he can think of to help. He pulls up two chairs and guides Ellie to sit still able to hold your hand. He barely catches the whisper that leaves her lips. “Please don’t abandon me too.” It instantly crushes Joel’s heart and all he can do is sit there with Ellie.

Part 4

If you would like to be tagged in my works please feel free to message me and let me know who/what fandoms you’d like to be tagged in. I plan to write for at least The Walking Dead, Shameless(US), Marvel(MCU and Comics), DC(All), Teen Wolf and The Last of Us

#reader insert #long reads #potentially triggering #ellie williams #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #maria miller #the last of us #tommy miller #tw abuse #ptsd

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just-my-type-x · 2 years

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Detective Brock

Synopsis: Kansas' most notorious killer surfaces after nearly a decade of going MIA and Brock's team is right behind him as new clues and are found by the lead detective on the case.

Trigger Warnings: mentions of death, murderer, guns and gun use and blood. Reader's discretion is advised, nothing too wild, but just in case.

Narrated in 3rd person

Men and women walk around the office, holding cups of coffees and files, bringing them frok a desk to another. It's just a another day at the FBI office in LA, where cases are handed to them almost every day and solved by them almost every day. Detective Brock hangs his leather jacket on his office chair, taking a seat immediately after, opening a case file and taking a few sips of coffee.

A knock on his opened door makes him take a break from going over the information.

"You got a minute?", detective Golbach, who, just like Brock, leads his own team of agents, holds a file while waiting for his friend to answer. They've become really close friends towards the end of the Academy, so they've both applied for the FBI agents posts, which they've received almost with honours. Later on, the hard work made them the second youngest detectives in the station and also the best ones. Of course, the youngest detective of the LA Bureau is y/n y/l/n, who graduated Psychology, yet the events turned out with her applying for an FBI role. From being a rookie secretary, she worked her way up to the top, but not that top as the other two detectives who lead different teams. She almost led Colby's team, but he received the rights of being the lead detective. She says she doesn't hold grudges, but oh boy, how much she would love to punch him in the face.

"Sure, man, what's up?", Colby leans back on the chair and Sam takes a seat on of the chairs placed in front of his friend's desk.

"Hallton rearranges the teams today. Ours and Hardy's.", he rubs him palms on his thighs, nervous. Hallton is the boss of the unit, who also named Golbach, Brock and Hardy the lead detectives. Sam has a partner, Hardy too, but Brock has always worked alone in the past 2 years since his partner died from a bullet to his lung. By the time any help arrived at the shooting scene, the damage was so bad on the inside that he died a few minutes later. Colby specifically told Hallton not to pair him with anyone for a while, but it remained a silent rule between the detective and his boss.

"What? How come i didn't hear this?", Colby asks perplexed

"I don't know, but he sent me to get you. I don't think he will make any big changes anyway. Maybe he wants to transfer some of our agents to each other's teams", Sam gets up and Colby follows him. They both walk towards Hallton's office, meeting with Hardy and Y/L/N on the way.

"What is she being called here for?", Colby asks just as perplexed as before, but now all three of them seem to be just as curious as him.

"Stealing your team? Just like you stole mine?", she keeps a straight face while approaching the boss' door. When's she's about to turn the knob, Colby keeps the door shut with his palm, fixing her with his eyes.

"Hey! I didn't steal anything. I was offered the position by the same man who kept you as an agent in Hardy's team." She scoffs and rolls her eyes, entering the office. "Ladies first", Colby whispers and sighs, the men following her inside.

"You wanted to talk, sir?", Nate breaks the silence and all the agents are standing in front of his desk, hands intertwined at pelvic level.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I need to make a few changes in this department for optimal results. Which, by the way, haven't been really great. We have a couple hundred unsolved cases, which two of your teams are going to solve in the next three months. I don't want to pass the files to Roberts at CIA, it doesn't do good to my ego.", Y/N let's a chuckle escape her lips.

"Sorry", she apologies

"No problem, we love good humour in here. So, as i was saying, the teama will suffer some changes. Golbach, you will be partnered with Sanders, he's new here, came all the way from New York. I want Simon, Daniels and Farrys on Hardy's tean. Hardy, swap Sam's members with Tiffins, Andrews and Mitchell. Brock, you're partner is now y/l/n"

"What?", both Colby and y/n ask shocked, taking a step forward.

"You can't do that sir, we talked about this. I don't want another partner", Colby motions to Y/N and she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms at her chest

"And i don't want him to be my partner because i don't want him to boss me around", she whines

"That's how leaders work, y/n, you'll have to come to an agreement with detective Brock. As of you mr Brock, spare me, it's been two years. I wish i were in Bali and not with you young fellas whining about changes.", Hallton takes a sip of his whisky. Is he really supposed to be doing that at work? Colby scoffs and turns his back to Hallton, running his hands on his face, retaking his initial position. She goes too. "Another problem and I'm sad to bring it out to you", the boss leans in his seat and takes a moment, analysing each one of them closely, before talking. "There have been two bodies found in a range of forty miles and 2 days in Stanley, Kansas, in the corn fields. We have reasons to believe that the Scarecrow Killer is back."

The room becomes foggy and the air is too thick for detective Brock. He stops hearing whatever his colleagues say, he can barely see straight, everything becomes blurry. Sam is quick to catch him by the arm, to give him support when he almost falls.

"What's wrong with him?", Hallton asks

"I'm low on sugar, it's fine", Colby manages to say and gets back on his feet.

"Anyway, i want Brock and Y/l/n on this, asap. I'll send Cindy to your office with the case files from 9 years ago. Now, go", he shoos them with his hand and all of them get out. Colby almost sprints to his office, leaving Sam, Nate and y/n behind.

"I can't believe he partnered me with the asshole who runs my team", her sad tone makes Sam and Nate pat her on her back.

"It's not like you had a bad life in my team, tho", Nate tries to make her feel better. She smiles and nods.

"Give him a few days, he'll be ok", Sam assures her.

"It's my nerves, still", they chuckle and she enters Colby's office at once with Cindy, who's already left the case files on his desk. She takes a seat on the closest chair to his desk and takes a file to go over some information. Colby takes it away from her hands. "I beg your pardon?", she raises her eyebrows, taking back the file from his hands. "I don't think you need this one.", she points to another 7 files opened right in front of his eyes.

"You don't know what i need. Now give it to me and go make me a coffee", Colby grabs is back and runs over the information.

"I'm your partner, not your slave. You either get it yourself and you let me help me with the case or.. There's no other option.", she crosses her arms at her chest. Colby sighs and leans back in his chair.

"I'm sorry, I'm just.. I didn't want another partner after Donovan. I know it's not fair for you to be on my team, since you know, i got this position while you were also competing for this. Let's make an agreement. You don't get on my nerves and i don't get on yours. And don't shoot me", he mentions the last part with half a smile. She chuckles. They agree on these terms, her being the same as his. They study the cases for a few hours, Hallton stopping by and giving him printed airplane tickets to fly them to Kansas.

"What about detective Golbach and detective Hardy?", y/n asks while looking at the plane ticket, hour of departure in less than three hours.

"They'll be there when you find the guy. Two weeks, that's all you have before CIA takes action. The County's police department will cooperate with you, they'll fill you in with more details.", Hallton leaves the office, without waiting for another question.

~~~~

The next day, detective Brock and detective Y/L/N arrive at the crime scene, looking over police reports and analysing the surroundings. Brock looks restless, not being able to focus on anything. He scribbles words on his notepad, random words like cornfield, murder, scarecrow and blood. Nothing out of the ordinary. He looks at the Scarecrow that raises right above his partner's head as she looks for clues at the bottom of it. Where she stands, there was found one of the bodies. It was his signature: dead young men at the bottom of scarecrows in cornfields, place where you can't find a corpse easily. But this timeit happened by mistake. The owner of the field had to check the new kind of corn he planted which is not far from the scarecrow. That's how he found both bodies on his property. Colby grows anxious, flashes of his memories playing right in front of his eyes. A teenager screaming at the top of his lungs "No, please no, this can't be happening". He snaps the pen in half, catching y/n' attention. She brushes it off.

"I found something", Colby takes 2 big steps to reach her and another forensics agent comes to investigate what she found. She holds with a pair of tweezers a torn piece of paper, with a dusty, half fingerprint on it.

"He's coming after us", it's written in a hurry on the paper. She turns around to Colby. "Did the victims know each other?"

"Yes, they were twins", the forensics agent answers before Colby. All three of them look at the most compelling evidence they've found so far, sadness written all over their faces. "Take this to the lab please, we need to find out whose fingerprint is that. I hope it's not the boy's", she hands tge evidence to him and he leaves the two detectives on the field.

"Let's check out the other one", Colby leaves her behind, walking fast towards the other scarecrow. As he gets there, his vision becomes blurry and feels sick. A bloody handkerchief is laying on the ground. Colby walks the other way amd starts puking. Y/N sees him and hands him her bottle of coke.

"Here, i always have one with me at crime scenes and when going to the morgue. It's for these kind of moments", she gives him a smile and rubs her hand in his back. "But what are you? A rookie? You've seen worse, Brock. It's a bloody handkerchief, i saw the case file of you investigating a cut open woman next to a highway.", she chuckles but Colby just closes his eyes for a longer second to contain himself.

"Please stop talking. I can't do this right now.",he tosses her the coke and starts looking for clues around the area of the scarecrow. His mind cloudy, y/n calls him for another piece of evidence that he missed while overthinking. "That can't be real", he whispers as his partner holds up in the air a long, colorful necklace, with a swallow. Colby's eyes get watery and takes the piece of evidence and tosses it in a bag, taking off away from the crime scene. Y/N does the same with the handkerchief and leaves after Colby.

"Let's find this motherfucker", she whispers when she gets in the car, Colby nodding.

~~~

A few days go by and there's still not much going on. The fingerprint isn't in the data base, so they hit a dead end. The blood on the handkerchief was one of the boy's and the handwriting in the note was his brother's.

"You've got to be kidding me", Colby shouts and slams the door, scaring y/n who fell asleep with her head on her temporary desk. "How could you lose such an important evidence? I swear I'm going to fire you myself", he throws the phone on the desk and runs a hand through his hair in despair. He kicks a chair and it falls with a loud bang.

"Did the necklace disappear?", she asks quietly

"Stolen, power outage, nobody saw anything, came back on after he took it away", he sits on the couch, almost crying.

"Not to be insensitive, but why is this case holding such a tight grip on you?", she approaches him and sits next to him.

"A lot of reasons."

"Shouldn't we trust each other? Maybe i can help you. Maybe i can find some clues in what you're saying. Open yourself up to me at least once. We've been going out after work for almost four years now, I've never learned anything about you other than that you're an asshole who kept my position instead of passing it back to me and that you drink excessively when Hardy and Golbach are in a good mood", she chuckles. He does too.

"You're never forgiving me about that, are you?", he shakes his head. Y/N nods and they both laugh. She places a hand on his back to show support. "You can't tell Hallton about this. He has no idea about it and he's gonna take me off the case and i fought really hard for a moment like this one.", he sighs and she agrees. "9 years ago.. I was coming home from a Halloween party. I was there with my girlfriend at that time, a few friends, my brother.. And it was really dark outside, the street lights were a joke, and there's this guy that walks behind us. He looks like he's around 40, he had a hood on, we thought that he's heading home. One of my friend sees that he's carrying a knife and yells that information, so we all panic and start running like there's no tomorrow. Unfortunately, there was no tomorrow for one of us", his voice breaks and he brushes a tear off with his thumb. "We were far from our houses and the only way to reach them faster was by running through the cornfield", he starts shaking and y/n's mouth falls open, connecting some dots. "That's when we realised we were being chased by the Scarecrow killer and that we've been lured into running in there. We were screaming for help, no one could hear us obviously and then, we hear a loud cry and the horrific sound of blade cutting through the skin. And-and i look back-", Colby starts rocking back and forth on the couch and y/n's instinct is to hold his hand, giving him something to grab onto to calm for a split second. He tightens his grip on her hand. "i look back and see my brother in a pool of blood, right under one of hour neighbour's scarecrow. He wasn't breathing anymore at that point and i remember screaming" No, please no, this can't be happening" and the only thing i see is that murderer taking Gage's necklace as a trophy before chasing us until we left the field. He was his 4th victim."

"You left Kansas after your brother was killed and joined the FBI in hopes to work on the cold cases, but they were never given to you", she finishes the story and all Colby can do is nod. She hugs him and he let's himself feel sad and grieve for a few moments, before their computer beeps, notifying an email.

Y/N gets up to check the email box and her color fades away from her face when she opens the attachments. It's pictures of the necklace in front of a house, the number of the street being the only significant clue. Colby runs over to her and almost punches the laptop.

"That's our old house. My parents moved after i left for the Academy. He wants me."

"That's why he's back after almost a decade, he was looking for you", y/n closes the laptop and takes her gun, anti-bullet vest, jacket and forms a number on her phone. Colby does the same and picks the car keys up from the table. "Do you remember seeing his face? Or a feature?"

"No, i wanted to forget that night for so long", Colby confesses

"Then why does he want you? Yeah, hello? Hi, i need back up on 56th, Davids corner with 58th Olsen and call Hallton to send Golbach and Hardy asap to Stanley. I want them here by sunrise", she ends up the phone call, adrenaline rushing through both of their veins.

"I don't know what he wants with me, maybe because I'm the only one who became something related to cops out of the 5..4 of us.", the sadness in his voice almost breaks his partners heart, but they know they have to be as though as possible to take the guy into custody.

~~~

When they pull up to his childhood home, the sun is already set. They wait across the street for back up to arrive and look eagerly at the turned on light of what used to be the living room of a fulfilled family. Colby taps restlessly on the wheel and on the car door, while y/n takes deep breaths to calm herself from punching Colby for making such annoying sounds. She sighs and takes his hand off the wheel in hers.

"I'm gonna break your arm", she let's go and he frowns at her.

"I'm not waiting anymore, you stay here, I'm gonna go see what he wants and arrest the fuck out of him", Colby gets out of the car and she almost sprints after him to stop him.

"It's too dangerous"

"What do i have to lose? Nothing scares me about this guy. He's finally here. And look, the sheriff just pulled up", she looks around and sees the flashy lights of the car. "You stay here. You only intervene if you hear gunshots. Until then, you stay put.", Colby points to her. "it's an order y/l/n. Any other move and you're back to rookie filing", she scoffs and let's her colleague run to his house.

Detective Brock opens the door silently, holding his gun tight. He steps inside and checks all the corners, but he quickly makes his way towards the living room, where he sees the man on the couch, smoking. The couch is the only item left in the house, they didn't want to take it with them. Colby's gun si pointed to the murderer's head, one quick movement and he'll shoot his brain out. But he's patient. He steps on a creaking wooden floor part. The smoker stiffens his position.

"I'm glad you didn't forget where you left from", the man's voice is thick, raspy because of the years of smoking

"This place will never be erased from my head, because of you", Colby tries to keep a straight voice, even of he's whole body is trembling

"Oh, you're being too kind", the man gets up and throws the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it. He turns around and Brock holds in a breath, hard to comprehend that he's going to see his brother's killer. "Nice girl you've got, I'm gonna be honest, i didn't think you'll ever pull one like her", he frowns.

"Who? Detective y/l/n?", he asks confused while still holding the gun pointed at the back of the standing man. He wasn't taller than he is now. 10 years ago he was huge, compared to Colby's teenage body.

"Yeah. You're head over heels for her. You wouldn't like it if something happened to her, right?", the man's voice almost growls as he laughs

"You can't touch her. It's also not your pattern. Only teenage boys? Wow, congratulations", Colby tries to ignore everything else, but he's fuming and terrified on the outside. All of a sudden, he regrets leaving y/n outside. The man turns around and he finally sees his face. Colby's pupils dilate, making his eyes look black instead of crystal blue. The man has a scar in his face, starting from his undereye and stops right at his jawline.

"You like it? My final victim, or what i thought it was my final victim, did this. He tried killing me, ha! But i was still the winner.", he laughed and approached Colby. "Now, you know you won't go anywhere, you've seen my face and everything", he reaches for Colby's hand and Colby fires his gun out of instinct. The bullet hits the wall. Colby punches him in the face, making the killer lose ballance. He takes his knife out and aims to stab him, but Colby is quick to get away from the path of the knife. Brock hits the man with his leg, while loading his gun. The man hits him in the knee and makes the detective fall on the floor, in pain. The man hovers over him, knife aimed right at his chest. With one swift move, the knife is shoved in Colby's chest, while a gun and people shouting are heard around the living room.

"FBI, drop the weapon!", y/n shouts, while having her gun pointed at the killer. The man tries to raise his hands, but he falls on the floor next to Colby, a gun wound in his stomach, barely breathing. The policemen take care of the barely alive murderer, while she drops next to Colby, trying to keep him conscious. She runs her hand over his torso, sighing with relief when she feels the anti-bullet vest. "It's not that deep, detective, you're gonna be fine", she whispers to him while holding his cold hand. "No, no, keep your eyes open. Talk to me", a tear falls from her eye on his hand. He looks from his hand ti her with lazy eyes, barely keeping them open.

"He said something about you", he whispers, voice cracking because of the dry throat. Y/N watches him carefully, while another tear falls on her cheek. A medic comes next to them and starts cutting his vest carefully. "He said that you're outside and that you're not safe. I almost lost it. I was about to leave him here just to come back and check on you", he closes his eyes and hisses when the medic moves the knife around while cutting. He apologies.

"I was fine, Colby. You are going to be fine as well. He's stable, he's gonna go to jail", she lies, not being aware of the state of the man. Colby manages to smile.

"finally, we finally got him", he squeezes her hand. "I want you to take my position if i don't make it". Y/N starts crying, while her partner's eyes get watery and a drop falls from the corner of his eye. "Hallton wouldn't give it to you so easily, but it's yours, i don't care"

"Stop, please. You're gonna boss me around for years. Just stay with me.", y/n let's a cry escape her lips as Colby's eyes close.

"We need to get him to the hospital", the medic says after stopping the bleeding.

~~~

Y/N sits by the grave, brushing a tear with her thumb. She holds a nice bouquet of flowers and kneels down to place it next to the other one. Her head falls on Colby's shoulder, as he tries to say some words at his brother's grave. He intertwines his fingers with hers.

"see, i told you i would eventually find someone", he takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. "i wish you met her". Colby starts crying and y/n hugs him tight, making him let years of frustration and sadness out of him. She tries not to cry, tho it's hard and emotional, especially because her and Colby grew even closer during his recovery. After a few moments, they say their final goodbyes, agreeing to come once in a few months to put fresh flowers at the grave.

"Let's go home, detective Brock", he nods while kissing the back of her hand

"Thank you for bringing me here. I wouldn't have done it without you."

"We all need closure."

"Yeah, we do", Colby sees his parents getting out of the car right across the street from them. He runs towards them, shock, sadness, happiness and the longing being too much for such events. He hugs them tightly and they all let it all out by shedding a few tears. Some of relief, some of never ending grief and some of happiness.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine

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septembersghost · 2 years

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Your collective spn experiences reminded me of something I experienced a few years ago with stargate. I love Vala from stargate, always have and probably always will, but they did bad BAD things to her with that narrative (basically the bad guys, through means that are never made clear and honestly seem kinda magical rather than scifi impregnate her against her will).

Basically, continueing to love her/stargate was having a really horrible impact on my mental health and I had to just decide one day that I didn't care anymore, even though I still loved it/her because if I kept caring my mental health was going to keep spiralling.

(I still love stargate and I feel like I can watch it again now without mentally spiralling, but it was really rough and I wish they just hadn't done that to her in the narrative [they could've just like...cloned her or something without doing something that horrible to her, the plot would have still worked])

Anyway, just wanted to share.

this sounds awful, and i am so sorry you went through that with a character and show you loved. i reblogged a post a while back that mentioned ethical creativity:

"I’m not one to “cancel” or censor really much of anything, even socially, but as our understanding of mental health and well-being grows, I’ve begun to question the ethics of last-minute tragedies in larger works. It strikes me as privileged and perhaps able-bodied/minded to assume you can knife your audience and their wound will heal without your care to aid them...Does that mean coddling or treacly happiness is what the doctor ordered? No, treacly happiness, unearned, is nearly as frustrating as unearned tragedy, though less likely to cause psychological damage. But I do think it means writers have a duty to tread carefully. Stories matter, and the audience who hears, watches, or reads them matters."

and it makes me think of this piece from years back (about the walking dead, but i feel it's applicable to many things):

"One of the primary defenses of this kind of thing – I see it every time – is that this kind of story is about the brutality of life and death, about how no one is safe, about how much survival means and costs because anyone can die at any time. That it’s about realism, and to that end people we love are going to die in ugly ways. I’m sympathetic to that point of view...The problem is that this isn’t real. It’s fiction. It’s a story, and it’s being written. By writers. Who are making decisions, not taking dictation. They make choices about who to hurt and who to kill (and let’s face it: not just anyone dies; certain people are almost always safe), and those choices have logic behind them, or they should. When that logic fails, there are narrative consequences. And when that logic is coming from a problematic context – because every piece of writing ever done exists in the context of culture, which means it exists in the context of politics – there are consequences for that as well.

It’s a general convention that everything in a story should be there to do a job, and it’s a convention for a reason. Randomness doesn’t make for a particularly satisfying narrative. It doesn’t make for a particularly interesting narrative. Even things that appear random should be there to do something, and the logic according to which these things exist should be robust enough to support them. It’s a common problem in novels for characters to act without clear motivation, or for those motivations to be inconsistent. It’s a common problem for events to occur that should carry tremendous narrative weight but fail to do so because their foundations are not strong enough. At best you have something that’s just sort of weird and inexplicable. At worst you have something infuriating, and that’s when you lose your audience."

a story doesn't have to coddle its audience, or always be happy, a story shouldn't blunt its edges and should serve its characters first and foremost, but i do think a certain level of consideration needs to be had regarding effect. to make something so brutal or cruel or upsetting that it breaks the story and has a markedly detrimental effect on the mental and emotional well-being of the audience is a problem, especially in a television show, which more naturally establishes a strong connection with viewers due to investment and length of time spent with a narrative and its characters. these things do have resonance and impact, and we do get attached in a very real way. we find connection and parts of ourselves in the stories we love, so when that's violated, it does real damage.

i'm glad that taking some space away from it, you were eventually able to heal a bit and rewatch again, but it's still terrible that you felt that hurt in the first place. *HUGS* <333

#the medical thing reminds me of what chr*s cart*r did to scully which was also. terrible :|#fiona-glenanne-westen #letterbox #fandom discourse #i've been through it in varying ways multiple times and i think we all probably have #but sometimes there can be one that's particularly soul crushing and hard to shake

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ubaid214 · 9 months

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5 Approaches to Separate Through Fat Loss Plateaus

There are numerous frequent weight loss fables that individuals live by as it pertains with their health. It is hard sometimes to separate your lives the weight loss myths and truth from what is true. Several sound true while others are just laughable. I after read somewhere that if you drink water during the night that you are likely to get fat or that if you damage your mind also frequently you are going to eliminate your hair and The more fat that I have to get rid of the more extreme my exercise routine should really be and Weight Loss Reality: Even though having an intense workout. IKARIA LEAN BELLY JUICE REVIEWS

Routine is great, there are certainly a several points you should look at: the very first being that every one is at an alternative stage in regards with their conditioning and just how much intensity they could really handle. When you have been actually inactive for numerous decades, an intense work-out for you might be, strolling half a mile a day. After you go that half mile you notice that you are sweating bullets and that you will be tired. But, for anyone who has been literally effective for quite some time, walking half a mile can be carried out without a sweat.

Every one includes a different meaning of what "intense" is. and If extreme for you personally is training for an hour or so a day, but due to life's active routine you just have time for 20 minutes a day, then those 20 moments will go an extremely extended way. It may certainly not be categorized as "intense", according to your classification, but those little cardio moments may have positive wellness adjusting effects. and Stress and fat obtain don't go turn in hand and Weight Reduction Reality: That is one particular "laughable" myths. To learn more how strain is adding lbs.

To your lifetime please obtain my free E-Book, "Psychology of Releasing Weight" and I can lose weight while ingesting whatsoever I need and Weight Reduction Reality: Sir Isaac Newton once said " What rises should come down." You will find organic principles that govern our lives. If you toss a ball up in the air, it is going to keep coming back down. You can remain on your own couch and imagine and imagine that the baseball may remaining afloat in the air, but natural principles show people so it should come down. Same goes when it comes to your weight.

That is one of the very most popular weight reduction urban myths out there. It's illogical to think that your health and weight are likely to take harmony if your nourishment consists largely of twinkies, chips, and donuts. Certain you are able to burn it down by exercising, but many people whose diet includes largely unhealthy foods are most likely not disciplined enough to adhere to a good work out routine. I really do know a few people who, from the surface, seem like they're who is fit, since they're not "fat, but who have high cholesterol. and Simply because I'm sorry for crushing.

The spirits of therefore many twinkie lovers on the market, I'd state this. You are able to consume processed foods, cookies, chips, snow treatment, pizza, burgers…. All those "soul enjoyable foods", but it ought to be in moderation. Such a thing in surplus is never good. and Missing dishes is a great way to lose excess weight and Weight Reduction Truth: There are many reports that show that folks who omit morning meal and eat fewer occasions throughout the day are generally a lot heavier than who've a wholesome natural break fast and then eat 4-6 small dishes throughout the day.

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medisupplements · 1 year

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The stillness of the frigid air heightens our senses, the landscapes sparkle and shimmer, and there's no scarcity of foods and drinks to go round. Winter is a ravishing time to cozy up, snuggle up, and keep heat. Along with this, it must be your precedence to remain match and wholesome throughout this spectacular interval. As a calisthenics coach, I've seen a whole lot of dangerous health habits up shut. Sadly, a lot of them rear their heads in the course of the winter season. Not solely are they weak, however they are often detrimental to your future positive aspects and long-term health. Practising good health habits could be the important thing to retaining your head up and fanning the flame of motivation in the course of the chilly and darkish of winter. If you're responsible of any of those dangerous habits that I've listed under, now could be one of the best alternative to make a change. Bodily aptitude The phrase “health” is a common time period that has a unique that means for every person. Analysis specifies that health is any bodily motion produced by skeletal muscular tissues that leads to power expenditure. Greater than that, health is a mechanism to enhance our health. Not solely bodily well-being but additionally emotional, psychological and non secular. Within the brief time period, it could possibly enhance your temper and enhance your sleep. In the long run, it reduces the chance of heart problems, most cancers, diabetes, despair and far more. Unhealthy health habits not getting sufficient sleep Sleep deprivation can have a unfavourable impression on train efficiency, whether or not within the gymnasium or open air. Sleep is significant because it helps your physique recuperate after train by permitting your coronary heart to loosen up and cells and tissues to restore themselves. With out it, you would be extra sore than you'd be with a full 8 hours of sleep for days to come back. Sleep can enhance the extent of the cognitive procession. Subsequently, with enough sleep, your cognitive perform can enhance. You may be in a greater temper, you may really feel extra energized, and you can elevate extra weight or full that further rep! poor food plan On the subject of dangerous habits on this planet of health, a poor food plan stands out as the largest offender. Identical to a automobile, your physique would require good gas for optimum efficiency. In case you give your physique dangerous gas, it will not work successfully and can finally go out. Correct diet is essential if you wish to keep energetic and keep away from exhaustion. It's extremely really helpful that you just eat entire meals. That's meals as near their pure kind as potential with minimal processing. This contains lean protein, entire grains, beans and legumes, nuts and seeds (unsalted), and vegetables and fruits. Additionally, drink a number of water. I like to recommend a minimum of liters a day, however, attempt to drink much more than that if you're lively. Keep away from processed meals similar to sweets, sugary drinks, ready merchandise for the top, fried snacks, processed meats or any chemical preservatives. You should have a terrific exercise and really feel higher when you may have the fitting gas. not heating correctly Warming up correctly earlier than exercising not solely prevents damage, but additionally makes your exercise extra productive. This may be finished by means of low-depth actions similar to jogging in place, leaping jacks, arm circles, adopted by 3-4 dynamic stretches. While you elevate your physique temperature, blood circulation and muscle activation, your muscular tissues will probably be prepared for coaching whilst you increase your vary of movement. Your heat-up routine ought to take a minimum of 6 minutes and may take longer if needed. Unhealthy means You most likely know the way essential correct kind is. It is a easy idea, but many health fanatics, even seasoned ones, find yourself taking shortc

uts. Poor kind can severely injure you, inflicting stress within the spinal space and growing vulnerability in your physique. Additionally, it could possibly focus the work on the mistaken muscle, decreasing the strain on the muscle you had been initially focusing on. Lastly, you possibly can create a way of false progress by means of misleading lifts or reps. Listed below are some key fundamentals for reaching good kind when exercising: Have interaction your core and preserve your again straight throughout every rep or elevate. It will assist the backbone and stop damage. Carry out every repetition in a gradual and managed method, each in the course of the concentric and eccentric phases of the repetition or elevate. It will cut back extreme reliance on the usage of momentum and lack of management. Carry out every repetition with a full vary of movements. It will enhance the time below rigidity within the muscular tissues and enhance the general effectiveness of an train. For instance: Pull up till your chin is over the bar and absolutely lock your arms earlier than doing all your subsequent rep. This additionally applies to bicep curls and many others. All the time have a newbie's mindset and do not be afraid to ask for "kind checks" from gymnasium instructors or any health skills. Doing the identical exercise Over time, doing the identical exercise can develop into repetitive and it may be difficult to maintain up the momentum. Your physique is a grasp of adaptation; it doesn't matter what you repeat, you'll develop into very proficient at it, which may result in a plateau and you will not see any progress. The reply to that is to change issues by performing totally different train variations, execution time (performing every repetition at a quicker or slower tempo), together with isometric holds on every repetition. It will liven issues up and supply new stimulation to your muscular tissues, leading to extra positive aspects! Train routine Folks typically imagine that it's important to elevate weights to get match and robust. However this isn't needed. Residence body weight coaching (also referred to as "calisthenics") is sufficient to construct muscle, lose fats, and allow you to attain your health targets. Under are three workouts that you would be able to implement into your coaching routine as we speak. Lizards The push-up is a chest and triceps burner. This train will assist develop higher physique hypertrophy and pushing energy. Begin in a excessive plank place along with your fingers below your shoulders, shoulder-width aside. Your toes are collectively and your legs are prolonged. Preserve your core and glutes tight in order that the physique is in a straight line. Inhale as you decrease your physique till your elbows are at roughly a 90-degree angle. Preserve your core tight. Exhale as you drive up by means of the palms of your fingers. Lock your arms earlier than doing the following rep. Repeat this motion between 8 and 12 repetitions for 4 sequences. If this variation is troublesome, you possibly can return to doing kneeling pushups just by inserting your knees on the ground. For extra detailed information on easy methods to grasp pushups, or to study more difficult variations of the pushups I do in my common exercise, try my video tutorial for pushups coaching. squats The squat is a compound energy train that targets the decrease physique, primarily the glutes, quads, hamstrings, and abs. Start by standing tall along with your toes hip-width aside, toes barely identified. Preserve a impartial backbone, shoulders again, chest open, and arms at your sides. Inhale as you ship your hips again as for those who had been sitting in a chair. Bend your knees and decrease them till your thighs are parallel to the ground. Put your fingers collectively as you do that. Preserve your core tight and your backbone impartial. Exhale as you press by means of your heels to return to the beginning pl

ace. Repeat this motion between 8 and 20 repetitions for 4 sequence. reverse crunches Reverse crunches allow you to construct energy and definition in your abs. A powerful core will enhance your steadiness, and stability, and offer you a toned midsection. Lie in your again along with your arms by your sides and your palms pressed in opposition to the ground. Bend your knees to roughly 90 levels along with your toes flat on the ground. Exhale and interact your core as you elevate your toes, drawing your knees in towards your chest till your butt lifts off the bottom. Preserve your knees at 90 levels throughout this motion. Inhale as you come back to the beginning place. Repeat this motion between 10 and 20 repetitions for 4 sequence. Australian Pull Ups The Australian pull-up is a superb upper-body train that may assist construct spectacular higher again, biceps, and core energy. You should use a low dip bar or place a bar on two secure platforms, similar to two chairs. Place your self below a low bar utilizing an overhand grip along with your arms absolutely prolonged at shoulder width. Your legs are prolonged, toes are along with heels on the bottom. Have interaction your glutes and core to keep up a straight line. Inhale adopted by an exhale as you pull the bar as much as your chest by bending your elbows, retaining your shoulder blades again as for those who had been crushing an apple between your shoulder blades. Pull as excessive as you possibly can whereas retaining your physique straight. Exhale as you come back to the beginning place by extending each arm. Be certain that each arms are absolutely prolonged earlier than repeating the following rep. Repeat this motion between 5 and 20 repetitions, for 4 sequences. There you go! In case you can right these frequent winter coaching errors and implement these calisthenics health strikes into your coaching, then you definitely be effective in your option to creating a brand new, fitter physique

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employeesproductivityhub · 2 years

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10+ Warning Signs You're Suffering From Toxic Productivity

Before we begin, I have a question for our readers - 'Can you work peacefully in a toxic work environment?' I bet your answer is a big 'no.' When you work in a toxic environment, no doubt your productivity also becomes toxic.

But, the question arises is,

What are the circumstances you may face due to a bad work culture?

The answer is toxic productivity. Most organizations suffer from the worst productivity level, and here we are mentioning some easy warning signs to help you face tainted productivity in your workplace.

No Breaks:

If you feel there is a 'No Break Policy' in your workplace, you should raise your voice or remove yourself from such an environment as soon as possible. When you work in such a culture, your mental space gets affected. You cannot work every minute in your office, and to clear your head space, you deserve a break!

No Hobbies Just Work:

There is a personal world outside your professional circle. If you work 24/7 without spending time for yourself, you will go crazy. You may take out some time for your refreshment. Work is important. But if you have no hobbies and just work, you may be a part of a toxic work environment.

Productivity Shame:

One of the most serious signs of toxic productivity is when your productivity is meaningless. No matter how hard you work, if your employer does not praise you, it is worthless. An employee feels demotivated in such a work culture. So, take strict steps if you feel you are a victim of productivity shame.

Work Burnout:

When you have work clogged above your head and feel stressed, you are a victim of work burnout. You cannot work peacefully when you have lots inside your head. So, make sure to accept tasks as per your capability.

Now, the question is,

How to overcome these?

Well, there's always a solution. Let's have a quick look:

Set Up Your Boundaries:

The best way to overcome such toxic work levels and work burnout is to set up work boundaries and work as per your capacity. Make sure to accept work you can take and finish it on time. There's no harm in setting up work boundaries and functioning accordingly.

Self-Awareness:

Self-awareness is the most crucial part of keeping your mental health fine. Ignoring your psychological health can be harmful. It will affect work and productivity, which is totally toxic. So, learn to be self-aware.

Set Goals:

If you feel to overcome your productivity toxications, set your own goals to compete with yourself. The foremost part is to work and deliver the assigned tasks to your manager or supervisor. In the competition of winning, don't be your own enemy.

Collaborate More:

To not be a victim of a toxic work environment, socialize and collaborate with your colleagues. Because in the end, you have to work with them and should avoid unethical behavior in the workplace. Share your thoughts and suggestions with them. Ask how they manage their personal and professional life. It will definitely inspire you.

Take A Break:

Breaks are significant, and seeking some mental refreshment, is a must! If you feel stressed and have dealt with anxiety in the past, don't ignore this. Take micro-breaks in between your work and refresh your mind to stay innovative and creative.

You Are The Best:

To be a happy soul in your office, consider yourself the best, and don't compare yourself with anyone. Analogizing with your mates will lead you nowhere, but you will definitely downvote yourself.

You can also watch: EmpMonitor: Best Productivity Monitoring Software

youtube

Wrapping Up:

We hope the readers have learned some easy-to-figure toxic productivity signs which may damage your team. We also mentioned some quick solutions to overcome the same.

#toxic productivity #toxic productivity culture #toxic productivity examples #toxic productivity 2022 #toxic productivity solution #Youtube

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ulead · 2 years

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5 Hacks to Overcome Your Anxiety at Internship

Imagine you are laying in bed and just about to sail to sleep, then suddenly you remember you forgot to make an SEO report on how the website is ranking and there’s a meeting the next morning with your boss regarding the same. In addition, you are on an internship and need to impress your boss to prove yourself. Therefore you sit up, start panicking, and quickly hold your laptop to finish the work at… midnight.

According to the report, 30% of millennials have reported anxiety which is higher than in previous generations. Sometimes you might have many questions in your mind like did you opt for the right job or did you take the right internship opportunity to have a better career? Or are you doubting yourself because you received another job rejection? These thoughts lead directly to stress and stem you from moving forward. Therefore, how do you manage your career anxiety and stop it from hurting your career even more? Well, good thing you asked.

Let us discuss the top 5 hacks to overcome your anxiety.

1. Power Pose & Powerful Thinking

A couple of years back, a viral Ted Talk regarding the science behind the power pose attracted the spotlight. What is a power pose? It’s where you stand with your feet apart, hands on your hips, and chest up, and you do this for two minutes. It gives you the confidence required to allow you to visualise success and minimise worrying thoughts or ideas.

Though the pose is no quick fix to success, it does play a role in your mind when you’re tense. It persuades you that this pose will help you be more confident in your capacity and because of that, you feel it. Therefore, the brain is strong, so this psychological trick assists you to feel more confident and less anxious about your work. With power pose comes powerful thinking.

In your offline or online internship, you should learn to be mentally stronger and donate to become more confident and less afraid of challenges that may come your way. Furthermore, it can also help decrease your work anxiety, depression, and fear of failure.

2. Make exercise your friend.

I know it doesn’t sound like fun, but it is one of the best practices to address your work anxiety. For interns, it can be difficult to complete the task before the deadline and for them these can be good ideas like running, dancing, or practising yoga moves to channel their energy into that thereby “turning off your brain”. Apart from stress exercise not only keeps your body healthy, but also controls your breathing, relieves stress, and prevents you from getting sick as often. Exercising doesn’t demand excessive time.

Your internship is an experiment to know all the actual work-life of a corporate world. Therefore it is better to get into practice before encountering any stressful job.

3.Learn that you can’t control everything.

In an ideal world, being able to manage everything would be smooth. Unfortunately, that is not possible in reality. Trying to control every facet of your work can damage your performance and contribute to your work anxiety. Therefore, start learning to acknowledge that you can’t control everything and let go of your fear of failure. Practice managing your emotions rather than trying to control everything around you. Work on accepting that not everything will happen as planned and accept it. Once you become a pro, you’ll find your work anxiety will decrease. An internship shows you the reality of what your future be like, therefore it is the time to prepare yourself before encountering any consequences.

4. Limit the coffee

Hey, most of the people are coffee people. It can allow us to feel like we are starting our days off right. However, having excess coffee can contribute to our anxiety and make it worse. Since caffeine is a motivation, meaning anxiety-like symptoms such as trouble sleeping, nervousness, restlessness, indigestion, and a fast heart rate. So, try to chill out and limit the double espresso drinks and switch to decaf or herbal teas.

I would suggest that an internship is all about the invaluable experience. Therefore, the interns are allowed to make mistakes during their internship because they are in their learning stage.

5.Face Your Anxiety Head-on

If you know your anxiety is foiling you in your job or internship, or during interviews, then start finding some activities to ease your stress. Take some time out to attend free public speaking classes, read books on overpowering your anxiety, or watch TED talks concerning public speaking.

The best solution is to undertake an internship. You can enroll yourself in an unpaid or paid internship whichever suits you. Then aim your goals to extract and upskill yourself you want from the internship.

Final Thoughts

As new graduates on the brink of their careers are common to feel anxiety about your internship. However, it is important to govern your anxiety as it may prevent you from taking future opportunities. So, take some time for yourself and perform on becoming mentally stronger to become resilient and manage your work without anxiety.

Planning to enroll in an internship?

Well, ULead is a flagship internship program for students to upskill themselves while reinventing learning and transforming lives with us. Leadership is the most sought-after skill by all companies, and Ulead is the place to be if you see yourself as a corporate leader in the future.

#internship #online internship #OnlineInternship #Online Internship Program #free online internship with certificate #Free Online Internship #free internship program #Internship Program #paid internship #Paid internship Program #best paid internship

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yoga1986 · 2 years

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pan-fangirl-345 · 3 years

Text

He Would Tear the World Apart

Summary: During a raid, you're taken hostage. Shouto doesn't take the news well, and will do anything to get you back.

TW: kidnapping, abuse, alcoholism mentioned, Enji Todoroki's bad parenting, mental torture, dissociating, injuries, blood, angst, mentioned character death (no one actually dies), a lot of swearing, chains, starvation, dehydration, that sort of thing. If there's anything I missed, please let me know! Also, there is a happy ending, so it's angst to fluff!

A/N: First and foremost, I have no medical degree, I have no idea what it's like to dissociate, so anything medically incorrect is because I am not a doctor, though I am currently working on getting my psychology degree. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, that was not the intention. I have no idea what went through my head to make me write all of this in an hour, but here you go. Also, please read the trigger warnings, and if you don't like it, don't read it. Anyway, I might make a part two to this if anyone is interested. Feel free to spam my ask box, or slide into my DM's if you want. Please interact with me, I adore you all.

Aizawa sighed as he stepped into the conference room. He sat down heavily in his usual seat, and Nezu climbed onto his shoulder, as was custom after so many years, despite the situation they were in.

Again.

"As you have all heard, one of the second year students, (Y/N), has been taken. She was last seen on a raid with the hero she was studying under, and we haven't heard anything from her since this transmission."

Nezu pressed play on a recording and her voice floated through the air.

She was panting, and she was whispering, but Aizawa knew that it was her.

"To anyone receiving this transmission, this is hero-in-training Tempest, I'm pursuing the criminals associated with the gang 'The Numerals'. I've been separated from the others and my comms have been compromised by one of the members. Please, send back-up."

There was a pause where all they could hear was her breathing, and suddenly she yelled, "Hey! You, stop!"

There was static, and then there was nothing.

"We have received information from one of our recon teams that they have taken her to their base of operations, though we don't know exactly where that is yet. We have also, as a school, received a ransom demand. Her parents have yet to be contacted about this."

Copies of the notes were handed out to the teachers, and they all frowned, clearly thinking the same thing Aizawa had thought.

They were a school, what kind of school had this kind of money sitting around?

"What is the girl's quirk?"

"She can create different types of storms in her hands," Aizawa supplied. "As of the end of last year, she could make a hurricane for a few minutes at a time, sometimes a dust storm, and I know for a fact that she was undergoing training over the summer, so it might be more than that now. Under extreme duress, she can make a full scale electrical storm in a building or outside, but only if her life is threatened."

"So, not helpful for getting out of this kind of situation?" one of the other teachers chirped and Aizawa nodded.

"No," he agreed. "Though we should be checking for any strange storms and freak electrical spikes."

"Do any of the other students know about this?" Hizashi asked.

"No, and we need to keep it that way," Aizawa told his husband.

"Why?" Vlad King asked.

"(Y/N) is Todoroki Shouto's girlfriend," Aizawa replied, then waited for that to sink in before he continued. "If he finds out that she's gone, or that's she's been kidnapped and harmed . . . ." He shook his head a few times before he added, "He would tear the world apart to get her back."

"Fuck," someone mumbled, and Aizawa nodded.

Pretty much everyone that was at U.A. knew what that girl meant to Shouto, not to mention the people at Endeavor's agency, and the one that (Y/L/N) was working with.

"Alright, so what's the plan?" Midnight asked.

"We plan a rescue mission," Nezu said. "We're working with nearly every police force in the country to try and figure out where they're keeping her. We have a rough area," he clicked onto a photo of a map, one area to the far north highlighted in bright red. "But there's nothing we can do until then, we need a warrant and evidence."

"The life of a child isn't enough?" Midnight asked. "Especially such a beautiful girl?"

Everyone went quiet, the mood somber and heavy.

"Aizawa, you spent more time with this girl than anybody," one of the third year teachers said, "how likely is it that she'll find a way out on her own?"

"It's a possibility," Aizawa admitted. "She's a very capable student, on par with Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugou, but they know what she can do. Not to mention that sources tell us she was injured, though we aren't sure to what extent. And the longer she spends with them is more time Shouto has to figure out what's happening. Not to mention the other students. We need to get her out as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Hizashi added.

It was no secret that Present Mic and Eraserhead had both taken a liking to you when you were in Class 1-A, all of the teachers liked you, and you were a solid foundation for your classmates.

You were a calm presence, and everyone, Bakugou included, had gone to you for advice at some point, though it was all for different reasons.

You tend to be a level-headed person, but when you felt strongly about something, nothing was going to stop you.

People, Shouto mainly, would start to sense the lack of your presence, and Aizawa wasn't ashamed to admit that he wanted you back where you belonged.

"We can't keep him, Shouto I mean, in the dark about this," Hizashi murmured. "He's one of the best up and coming heroes."

"Not to mention," Aizawa added, "that we plan on flooding the streets with her photo. We've already sent it to all of the major hero agencies involved with the search, Endeavor's being one of them. If we don't tell him, his father will, and we all know how volatile that relationship is."

Everyone in the room shuddered at the mention of the father and son duo and nodded.

"Aizawa, All Might, it might be better if you both told him," Nezu said. "You both have the best relationship with him in this room, and you might be the only two that could hold him back if he reacts violently."

"And he will," Aizawa mumbled, already standing from his chair.

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

Shouto knew something was wrong.

He hadn't seen or heard from you in two days, almost three, and the teachers were acting suspicious. There were fewer of them in the halls, and Aizawa was even more tired than usual, with dark worry bags under his eyes that the students hadn't seen since the Bakugou Debacle in their first year.

The last he had heard, you were going on a raid for some gang members that were selling some sort of hallucinogenic drug based off of a mirage quirk.

You hadn't contacted him or come back since.

"Young Shouto, can we speak to you for a moment?" All Might asked, making everyone look up from what they were doing.

Despite the dorms no longer being completely necessary, (the League had backed off a little bit in recent days, and there hadn't been very many Nomu attacks lately), most of Class 1-A, now 2-A, had moved into the dorms for their second year, you and Shouto included.

"Does this have to do with (Y/F/N)?" he asked, standing quickly.

"Unfortunately, yes," Aizawa said, voice somber.

"Todoroki, do you want us to come with you?" Midoriya asked, getting that look on his face.

"If it's about (Y/F/N) then they all deserve to know too," Shouto said. "And I would feel better knowing they were here."

"Of-Of course," All Might replied, glancing at Aizawa nervously.

"(Y/L/N) has been kidnapped and is being held hostage as we speak," he told them, as blunt as ever.

Aizawa ripped his goggles off right before Shouto blew.

One half of his body erupted into blue tinted flames, and the other exploded in a rain of ice, but they evaporated quickly under Aizawa's gaze, and before any damage could be done to the dorms.

Everything went dark in his head, and his feet were moving before he even had a chance to fully process what his former teachers had been saying to him.

"And where do you think you're going?" Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow as he moved to intercept him.

"To find her," Shouto snarled, and he didn't even recognize his own voice. It was several octaves lower than normal, and there was a rasp to it that had never been there before. "To get my girlfriend back."

"You don't even know where she is," Aizawa said. "We don't even know where she is. Besides, you're too emotionally involved."

"Too emotionally involved?" Shouto said, his voice too calm, his eyes too dead.

Everyone in the room took a step away from him. Everyone except Midoriya and Bakugou.

"Too emotionally involved?" he repeated.

"Oh shit," someone whispered, though Shouto didn't know who it was.

"That is my girlfriend. That is the love of my life and you're telling me that I can't get her back because . . . I'm too emotionally involved? What about when Midoriya went to get Eri? Was he too 'emotionally involved'?"

No one dared to point out that it was nowhere near the same thing, but there was a collective thought about it in the room.

"That is my fucking girlfriend out there," he snapped. "I will work harder than anyone to get her back. I will be the one person wholly invested in making sure that she stays safe."

"And that is why you can't be one of the people in on this," Aizawa told him. "The others are her friends, but you? You are way more than that, and that means that when it comes down to it, you can't make a clear-headed decision on whether it's worth it to try and grab her or not. Because she'll always be worth it to you."

"Damn right she will," Shouto said, staring Aizawa down.

No one had heard Shouto swear this much at once, if ever, depending on the person. He was starting to sound like Bakugou, and the others knew immediately that if you weren't back soon, he was going to blow.

"Look kid, I understand," Aizawa muttered. "I really do. I understand how you feel, I would do that same thing for Hizashi, but I also know what I would do, and we can't have that in the investigation. What would (Y/F/N) want?"

"She would want to be here!" Shouto shouted. "She would want to be teasing Bakugou in the kitchen, making sure that everyone had a blanket for movie night. She would want to be curled up with me on the couch watching bad romance movies that the girls cheated their way into picking out and making sure that I-!"

Shouto stopped as the emotions got lodged in his throat. Tears threatened to spill over as his vision got blurry, and the others were there to catch him as his knees gave out on him.

"We'll get her back kid," Aizawa assured him, crouching down, touching the top of his head softly. "We will get her back."

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

Your head was buzzing as you came back to consciousness and you suppressed a groan of pain.

Consciousness hurt.

You did a short mental tally of your injuries.

Your ribs were definitely a little bruised, if not cracked or broken. Your lips were split in at least four different places each. One shoulder was definitely dislocated, and the other was hurt in some way. Your left ankle was bruised and swollen, broken probably. Your head probably had a huge gash if the blood running down the side of your face was anything to go by, and you were definitely concussed on some level.

Apparently getting your head slammed into solid concrete by someone who had launched themselves off a ledge would do that to you.

You were in what looked like a basement of some sort. The walls were solid concrete, there were pipes running overhead and dripping on you randomly, which wasn't appreciated, and there was insulation and plaster showing through here and there.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty?"

Your head whipped around to see your kidnapper, but your head protested and so did your stomach, despite the fact that there was nothing in it.

You suppressed a groan, trying to keep your stomach where it belonged.

"Ready to tell us who the informant is?"

"Go straight to hell," you muttered, when you were certain you wouldn't throw up on yourself, glaring at them.

"I still can't believe you were fucking stupid enough to kidnap a child! She doesn't know shit," the other man snapped at the first.

"She has to know something!" the first guy snapped. "She was in on the raid!"

His quirk allowed him to change his voice, so he wasn't using the real one, he sounded like a guy that smoked twenty packs of cigarettes a day.

The other guy you had started calling Sandy in your head. His quirk was similar to yours, he was able to turn anything he touched into sand, and then use it. He mostly made sand storms, and that's how they had gotten the jump on you in the tunnels.

One had blinded you while the other had carried you away, much to chagrin of the Sandy.

"I'm in training," you rasped. "I'm hero-in-training Tempest, from Class 2-A at the school U.A."

They hadn't given you anything to drink in the last two days, from what you could even remember of it, and you knew that you weren't going to last much longer, having been dehydrated when they had taken you.

They had kidnapped you from the raid site, and then spent six hours driving around like morons trying to cover their tracks, before driving for an unknown amount of time before they had dumped you in here. You had been unconscious for the secondary part of the drive, and you knew that with everything going on, there was the possibility you were experiencing retrograde amnesia.

"They don't tell me the important stuff like that. I get told when we're going on raids, and what my part in them is, and that's on the very rare occasion that they happen during my shifts. Most of the time, I'm on patrols around the city," you told them, taking a break in your little speech to spit blood onto the floor by your leg. "You need directions, I'm your girl, but you need to know who's a rat, sorry, I can't help."

You would've shrugged, but your arms were chained to the wall behind you, and every time you moved your right arm it made an awful clicking noise that you knew wasn't natural. Your left shoulder was dislocated as well, meaning your arms were pretty much useless.

One leg was operational, but barely. You were so far out of commission you wouldn't be surprised if U.A. kicked you out to recuperate.

U.A. wouldn't, and couldn't, pay the ransom. You knew that. The best hope you had was that you could act your way out of this, or that they planned a raid to get you out.

They had done it for Bakugou, why not you, right?

Shouto passed through your thoughts, thoughts about what he might do to get you back, but you shut them down as soon as they entered your head.

You were trying to keep him in a safe place.

You hoped that Shouto never learned about this. About where they were keeping you, what they had already done to try and get you to talk.

He was your safe place now, safe and away from this building, wherever you were. You thought maybe if you could keep him out of your head here, it was a way of protecting him from the reality of your situation, even if he already knew.

"She's a kid," Sandy snarled, pointing at you viciously. "She's a kid. You know the Boss' rules about kids and you broke almost every one of them!"

"Yeah, well-"

"Guys, hey, I hate to interrupt," you interjected, "but I really have to go to the bathroom."

They both stared at you for a moment before Sandy asked, "Do you promise to not try and escape?"

"Buddy, I don't know if you've looked recently, but I doubt I'm doing anywhere," you quipped. "My ankle is obviously demolished, my head was cracked open like an egg, thanks to your buddy Darth Vader over there. Not to mention, I'm dehydrated and starving, and don't even get me started on how much my ribs are killing me right now, probably literally. Do I look like I'm in any shape to try and escape?"

Sandy frowned, glancing at you like this was the first time he was seeing the extent of what had been done to you.

"Alright, I'm going to undo the chains, but you can't try to escape, you'll only make things worse for yourself."

"Death seems preferable at this point," you grunted, trying to hide the pain you were in.

"Don't you have healing supplies?"

"How am I supposed to use them when I can't move my fucking arms?" you asked, wiggling your fingers in emphasis. "And you morons confiscated my belt, which had them all in it! You know what my quirk is! What did you think was in it? Explosives? No, I leave that to Dynamight."

"Fuck," Sandy muttered.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" the voice dude asked.

"Because if she dies then that means no money and no chance of surviving prison again. Do you know what happens to people who mess with kids in prison? Nothing good."

You logged that little piece of information away, trying to focus on their features, but with your concussion, your eyes weren't the hottest.

"Can you move?" Sandy asked you as he worked on unlocking your chains.

You couldn't help the cry of pain when your arms dropped to your sides, tearing stinging your eyes as you bit into your already roughed up lip.

"Shit. Can we get a medic in here?" Sandy shouted.

A door opened and someone stuck their head in. Sandy repeated his demand, and the door shut again.

"Why are you doing this?" you whimpered, trying to keep your voice even.

If they were sadists, any fear or pain you showed only gave them what they wanted.

"Because we don't have a choice," Sandy said. "The Boss gave us somewhere to belong, he gave us a place off the streets. We owe him. We would've died."

"Shut up," Smoker snapped, and you glanced at him.

"I have a headache, and it comes and goes as you talk. Please, for the love of all things holy, shut up," you hissed to Darth Vader, wanting to touch your head, but not being able to for multiple reasons.

Sandy touched your shoulder lightly and you cried out again, moving automatically to hit him, but your other arm twinged, bringing more tears to your eyes.

"Sorry," Sandy murmured, pulling his hands away.

You took a shaky breath, waiting for the pain to dull before you said, "There's no way I'm moving from this spot without being in pain, and I'm definitely going to need help."

"Holy fuck, you two morons were two lucky blows away from killing her."

You glanced over to see someone with a med kit strolling leisurely down the stairs.

"Hello Tempest," they said, giving you a bright smile.

"Hello Med Kit," you replied, giving them a grimace.

"You can call me Himo for now," Med Kit said. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

"You're going to whether I want you or not, but sure, go ahead," you muttered. "It's not really like you can make this any worse."

"I could break almost every bone in your body and keep you alive while doing it, so I could do so much worse, but that's not the goal here," Himo told you, setting to work.

"So what is the goal? Since I'm assuming that I'm never going to get out of here," you said, glancing around.

"Why do you think that?" Himo asked, ignoring your first question.

"Because I've seen your faces, I know your quirks, I know a general area of where I'm being kept, unless someone used a teleportation quirk of some sort. I know the school won't pay the ransom, my parents don't have that kind of money, and my boyfriend's father would never pay to see me safe and sound. He would probably twist his son's grief to get him to be compliant," you grumbled. "Besides, I'm a hero, hero-in-training, whatever, it's all semantics. I'm basically your arch-nemesis. Isn't that what every villain wants? To kill the person in their way?"

"We aren't villains," Sandy muttered.

"You break laws put in place to protect people, you attacked a minor, then kidnapped her after assaulting her, and you are trying to get a ransom for me," you pointed out. "That doesn't really scream 'hero' or 'civilian' to me."

"Have you ever though about who writes the rules? About how money can manipulate everything? The system is flawed, and we are going to make sure people know it," Darth Vader snarled. "Do you understand how unfair the world is?"

"Don't talk to me about the world being unfair," you whispered, your voice dropping, every muscle in your body tensing. "My boyfriend loves his mother more than pretty much anyone in the world. Her parents, his grandparents, arranged a quirk marriage, and she had four children she didn't necessarily want. Her husband drove her to near insanity, enough so that she poured a kettle of boiling water over my boyfriend's face because he looks like his father. His father has already managed to get one of his children killed, and he considers the other rejects because they don't have the quirk he wanted them to have. He's a different kind of monster, and he's not in jail.

"My own father verbally and mentally abused me for as long as I can remember. My mother and I were zombies until recently, when I decided I had had enough and my mother finally found the courage and will to leave his sorry ass in the gutters where it belongs. My father always had enough alcohol in his system to make him a human molotov cocktail. I had little to no self esteem until recently, and I still struggle to understand and comprehend that I am worth love. I am still learning to respect myself. So you don't get to preach to me about how unfair the world is buddy, we all know," you snarled.

"The hundreds, thousands of kids out on the street know. The women and men that get raped, and continue to see their own personal monster roam free know. The kids that get hit every day for not being what their parents want know. That's why people like me exist, to put away the monsters wearing human skin. That's why my friends and I try so hard to be heroes. It's not about the glory, or the money. It's about bring people to justice, it's about making sure that people feel safe. It's about giving other people something that we never had."

Silence echoed through the room as what you said sank in.

You hadn't meant to burst like that, but you were sick and tired of these guys using their shitty lives to make other people's lives shitty too.

"Why are you a hero, Tempest?" Himo asked.

"Because I want to save people," you replied. "I just told you that. I want to make sure that every child like me knows that they don't have to be their parents, that there is another option. I don't want the abused becoming the abuser. I want to make sure that the people doing the bad things get put where they belong. I want to help the kids that have nothing to lose, I want to help them realize that they have everything to gain. I want to give people like you hope."

There was no use in lying to them, they were probably going to kill you anyway. Besides, it might help you build rapport, and they might let you go when they realized that they made a mistake.

"People like us?"

"People who think that there isn't another option. People who have been shown nothing but the horrid parts of the world, the horrible parts of humanity. People who don't know what it's like to be loved completely by somebody, both good and bad. People who think that they owe someone who isn't worth one minute of their time. Good people who strayed too far from the path."

There was silence for a few minutes before you said, "I've seen a lot of real villains, people who aren't capable of basic human emotions, I've seen people who have no humanity in their eyes. They are the villains, they are the monster under our beds personified. People like you, you just simply wandered. You aren't lost, you're just further to the side than some other people. It would be easy for you to walk the path again."

You paused, thinking over what you said, then added, "Well, it wouldn't be easy necessarily, but it would be worth it."

"You still have the naivety of a child," Vader snarled.

"Call me what you want, naive, innocent, optimistic, I've heard it all, but in the end, I'm right," you told him.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because, at the end of the day, I know that every life I save isn't just one life," you replied. "That young woman I saved, she might have kids some day, or foster a child that needs a loving mother. That child I shoved out of the way might help the suicidal child in his class. Every life I save touches other people's lives. As hard as it is to believe, no one is ever truly alone in the world. Every smile I give to a stranger might make their day, might help them live long enough to find the thing that makes them happy. That's why I'm a hero."

More silence.

Your face heated, but there was something in their faces that told you they had never thought about it that way before.

"So, is there anything you can do to heal me?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Like I said, these guys were two lucky blows away from killing you, I'm surprised that you're still alive, actually, everything considered. Your head will heal on it's own, but there might be a little scar left. However, your ribs might take longer. Three are cracked, and four are bruised. Your ankle might need surgery to get it back to the way it was. It's definitely broken, and there might be small bone particles floating around in there, I'm not entirely sure, my quirk isn't that detailed I'm afraid. Not to mention that, from what I can see, your shoulders just need to be popped back into place. One was dislocated more than the other, but it will hurt."

"Can't hurt worse than the state I'm in now. So what can you do? I'm assuming that taking me to a hospital is out of the question."

"Well, I can treat the cut on your head, relocate your shoulders, and I can see if someone else can take a look at your ankle, but everything else will have to heal on it's own."

"So there isn't much?"

"Nope, we don't have the equipment needed for your ankle here, and, like you said, no hospitals."

"Fucking gre- wait a minute, to you guys still have my belt?" you asked, perking up a little.

"Yeah, it's over here," Sandy said, walking over into the back corner, pulling your med belt out.

"Hand it over. I promise there's nothing too harmful in there. There are some painkillers, but it's just Midol. It's all medical stuff," you said, wincing as Sandy dropped it into your lap.

You opened it, taking out a small device.

"What does that thing even do?" Himo asked, looking at it warily.

"It's not a communicator or anything," you hurried to explain. "I made some friends in the support courses, so I asked if they could make me a device that works like an X-ray would. Himo, take it."

He took from you gently, which you appreciated, and turned it all around, trying to figure out how it worked.

"Alright, see that little button on the top left, yeah, right there. Click that button twice, like hitting the home button of a phone."

Himo did as he was told, and the screen blinked to life.

"Alright, hold the over my hurt ankle, and it should be able to show what's going on. Or," you added, "it'll blow up. Hatsume is kind of unpredictable like that."

Himo's hands tightened on it, but he did what you asked, and was clearly surprised when a detailed X-ray appeared on the screen.

"Holy shit, it worked!" you cheered, grinning.

"You have some very talented friends," Himo told you.

"I know right? She's a little quirky, but she's great at what she does!"

"How are you able to smile right now?" Sandy asked, looking at you with something akin to wonder.

"Don't get me wrong," you started. "I'm fucking terrified, but there's not much I can do in this situation. Besides, from what I can tell, other than the initial assault, you people don't want to hurt me. You want something from me. In this scenario, what I'm guessing, is that you want something from me, so you're going to be nice, and make me want to help you out, or make me feel like I owe you one, and then, when I don't comply, you'll either torture me to try and get what you want until I die, or you'll just kill me right off the bat."

Himo winced, and Sandy twitched.

"You guys really hate the thought of me dying, don't you?" you asked, cocking your head to the side, despite the protect of your brain. "Is this one of those scenarios where kids should be off limits?"

"We may be bad guys, but we have certain priorities," Sandy admitted. "Kids are a sore spot for most of us."

You nodded slightly. "I can see why. You guys said something about being on the streets? I know that sometimes kids band together, that's how they survive. I'm assuming you've lost friends."

"Smart kid," Himo murmured, eyes darting over the X-ray.

"Sometimes they give us profile training," you admitted. "Besides, I've been working on my psychology degree."

"Wicked smart kid," Sandy quipped.

"Alright, so I can set your ankle, there isn't anything wrong with it other than the obvious fact that it's broken," Himo said, handing the device back to you. "Riko, I'm gonna need your help."

"With what?" Sandy asked, looking skeptical.

"Can you hold her legs down? I need to relocate her shoulders before I do anything with her ankle, just because I have a feeling she attacks when she's hurt."

"Good instincts," you muttered.

"I'm a doctor," he confessed, grinning. "You learn a thing or two."

"Sorry about this," Sandy said.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," you told him. "As long as that's all you do I'll considerate your way of trying to make up from everything else."

Sandy snorted, holding your legs just below your knees.

"This is going to hurt," Himo warned.

"I would be surprised if it-"

You clenched your teeth to try and keep your scream in as Himo popped your right arm back into place.

The rest of your body bucked, trying to roll away, but Sandy, Riko, had a firm hold on you.

You panted as the pain started to fade a little in your arm.

"Sorry, I've found it works better when people aren't expecting it," he said.

"Son of a bitch," you gritted out, spitting blood off to the side. "I bit my tongue."

Riko chuckled, shaking his head.

"Alright, now for the other one," Himo murmured. "I really don't understand how you managed to take this much damage."

"At least I only broke my ankle. My friend Deku has broken both arms, both legs, and both hands before. I think he's broken almost every bone in his body sa-"

Himo popped your other arm back into place and you couldn't stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks at that one, your jaw almost cracking with how hard you clenched it to try and keep the noises in.

"Fucking fuck," you muttered when the pain pulsed into something a little bit more bearable.

"Better?" Himo asked, prodding your shoulders.

"Yeah," you admitted, moving them slowly. You dug around in your med belt, pulling out two pieces of metal and a small bottle.

"What is that for?" Himo asked.

You pushed a button on the metal, and they extended to the required length.

"It's for a splint, or a cast," you told him. "Once you set my ankle, you put the metal on either side, and I can spray this one. It's a special kind of plaster, don't ask me how it works, I have no idea what's in it, but it'll hold until my ankle is fully healed, then it'll fall off on it's own."

"Amazing!"

"Heroes, when the respond to disasters, often have to set up triages until other emergency responders can arrive, so we have to know a little bit about basic medical treatments in emergencies like that. So a lot of us have belts and such to keep medical stuff in. I also keep duct tape and glue in here. You never know when you're gonna need it."

You pulled out some painkillers, popping two in your mouth, taking them dry.

"How?" Vader asked, sounding horrified.

"Hate to break it to you, but when you're a teenage girl, especially one learning to be a hero, when you don't always have time for water, you learn to take pills dry."

"TMI," Vader muttered.

"Hey, jackass, you asked," you told him.

Riko and Himo chuckled.

"Alright. Riko, see if you can get a hold on her, this is gonna hurt like a bitch," Himo warned. "Li, hold her other leg down."

"Don't use my fucking name!" Vader shouted.

"You know, I wouldn't have known that was your real name if you hadn't reacted that way," you told him. "Heroes are also trained to pick up on certain behaviors like that."

Li grumbled, but did as he was asked.

Himo situated himself, then said, "Get ready."

The pain had you blacking out before you knew what happened.

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

"I knew something was wrong," Shouto muttered for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. "I should have gone with her!"

"Dude, it wasn't even your mission," Kaminari told him. "There was nothing you could've done for her."

"Yeah you half-and-half bastard," Bakugou chimed in. "Besides, we're gonna get her back, so shut up and try and think of something useful."

Everyone had leapt into action when it had sunk in that you were in serious danger. It didn't take long, and no one wanted to acknowledge that it was worrisome.

They had split up into teams.

Midoriya, Bakugou, Shouto, Kaminari, and Kirishima were working on the maps that had been given to the students.

Momo, Jirou, Uraraka, Mina, and Tsuyu were going over the interviews with raid members, trying to gather up information on what had happened, trying to see if there was a traitor among them, other than the undercover agent that they had been told about.

Tokoyami, Ojiro, Shoji, Sero, and Koda were helping the other heroes do recon missions and patrols in the area where they suspected you were being held.

Sato, Shinso, Hagaruke, and Iida were working on the case files of all the known members of the gang that you had been going after. Surprisingly, those four were the only ones able to hear about the things that some of the gang members had done.

Hagakure was crying softly to herself as she read, but no one could pull her away from the files.

"I have to know," she kept saying. "I need to know about what they did so I can help when we get her back."

Sato didn't know you as well as the others did, so he was a little less effected. He were itching to get you back, but the others had spent far more time with you personally.

Shinso, on the other hand, was powering through them, wanting to know what he had to avenge when they got to that building. He wanted to know what they might be doing to you so that he could have far more reason to get them arrested.

Iida just wanted something useful to do.

"They just cleared building seven in section 3-C!" Aoyama called from his spot the progress computer that they had set up in the common room.

Aoyama was in charge of letting them know what had been cleared, what was under suspicion, and what they had ruled out completely.

"Fuck, that pretty much clears that grid section," Bakugou muttered, forcefully crossing an abandoned apartment building off his map.

"They might need to expand their net," Midoriya added. "No one knows where she is. There's the possibility that they aren't even in that area."

"I hate this!" Shouto burst out. "I feel useless just sitting here!"

"It's either this or you get stuck back on the sidelines," Bakugou reminded him and he clenched his fists.

He just wanted you back safe and sound by his side, preferably with his arm around your shoulders.

He'd been trying to remember the last thing he said to you before you had gone on that raid, but he couldn't remember.

He hoped that it was 'I love you' or something similar, but not knowing was killing him.

"Todoroki-kun," Midoriya said, laying a hand on his arm. "We will get her back."

"Yeah, we aren't giving up on her, no way in hell," Kaminari added, eyes flashing gold in the lights of the common room.

"She never gave up on us, it's not manly for us to give up on her," Kirishima chimed in.

"I know," Shouto said. "I trust you all."

It went unsaid, but understood, that when it came time to get her back, Shouto was going to be the one leading the rescue.

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

A week later, Himo came into the basement and said, "Do you think you can walk?"

"On one leg maybe. Why?" you asked.

Your ankle was wrapped in the cast that you had taken out, but your ankle was feeling a little better than it had been. It still throbbed every once in a while, but it could've been worse.

"The boss wants to see you."

"Oh, the big boss," you griped, rolling your eyes. "He wants to see me he can come down here himself."

Himo hesitated, but he nodded, heading back upstairs.

You had known that there was an undercover agent in the gang, but you had yet to figure out who it was.

Every member of the gang seemed to know that you were there, that, or they were much bigger than you had anticipated.

So far, Himo and Riko were your top two suspicions, given that they were the only two that were actually kind to you, but you had a small part of you that wasn't sure.

The door opening a few minutes later announced the arrival of the leader, and you steeled yourself.

"You fucking morons," the man muttered, rubbing his eyes like he had a headache. "What did I say about kids?"

"Sorry Boss, but we didn't have a choice," Li said, stepping out of the shadows.

He had been stay with you for the entire week, and it was clear that you didn't have the kind of rapport with him that you did with Riko and Himo.

You had been trying to make a storm, something, to let the someone know where you were, but you had idea of knowing whether it was working or not. You were in the experimental stages of the large storm capabilities of your quirk, and you were completely drained at the moment.

"What's your name kid?" the man asked.

His hands were covered in rings, and scars littered the little bit of skin his tailored suit showed off.

You had seen Shouto in high class clothes for gatherings that he was required by social convention to attend, so this guy was either rich, or so far into debt that he was on the run from the banks.

"You can call me Tempest," you said.

"(Y/N). Second year at U.A. Class 2-A student, and one of the new public favorites," Li said.

"Aw, you looked me up, how sweet," you taunted. "But like I said, I prefer Tempest, it sounds cooler."

"Far enough," the boss said.

He was wearing a mask that covered the top half of his face, and a fedora type hat, so there wasn't much to catalog, but you did anyway.

"Are you here to kill me?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, despite the way it made the chains rattle.

"No, not if you give me what I want," the man said. His voice was deep, and he looked like he was in his early thirties, but you weren't entirely sure.

"I don't know who your rat is," you stated.

"How do you know that's what I wanted?"

"When I woke up on day two, your Sandy man and Darth Vader over there were talking about it. Vader actually asked me about it." You paused, then said, "You guys do realize that I'm right under an intern right? I'm not high enough to know about UC's. Think of me like the intern's intern. I'm lucky I even got to go on the raid."

The man watched your for a moment before he said, "I hate it when people tell me the truth. It means I don't get to have any fun."

"Sucks to be you then," you replied. "So what happens now?"

"You get broken," the man said, reaching out to touch your forehead.

"Good luck with that," you muttered when he pulled away.

Then the visions started.

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

"Everybody get up!" Aoyama shouted. "Up, up, up! Someone called in a noise complaint late last night!"

Class 2-A poured into the common room.

Shouto, Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero ran in with no shirts on, and Kaminari fell trying to pull his shorts up over his Pikachu boxers. Shinso was already in there sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee clad in a t-shirt with a cat meme and dark jeans.

The girls poured in in a mix of pajamas and hoodies that they had stolen from the boys over the last week, their hair a mess and dark bags under their eyes.

"What's going on?" Shouto asked. He knew that his bags were darker than anyone's, and no one had seen him sleep in almost three days.

"Late last night someone called the tip line anonymously to complain about screaming from a condemned building smack dab in the middle of section 1-A. Someone checked into it and there has been a lot of activity in that area lately," Aoyama explained.

He had given up trying to keep up the sparkly attitude, though some of the French had stayed.

"Is there anything else?"

"Guess which gang has been operating in the middle of that area?" Shinso said, having stayed up with the sparkly blond.

"The Numerals," Shouto said.

"Tres bein!" Aoyama replied.

"Have the heroes been notified?"

"They started a conference at three this morning," Shinso said.

"And no one told us?" Shouto asked.

"They wanted to let us sleep. They know how hard we've been working," Shinso replied.

"I'll sleep when we get her back," Shouto snapped, heading for the conference room.

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

Aizawa shouldn't have been surprised when his former students streamed into the meeting that was being held to rescue (Y/L/N), but he was.

Though that might have been because most of the boys were shirtless and the girls were clad in their pajamas, and hoodies that were clearly not theirs.

"Catch us up," Shouto demanded.

"Shouto, what are you-"

"Shouto, you are aware that this is merely to scope out the building, correct?" Aizawa interrupted, glancing at his former class.

"We don't fucking care," Bakugou snarled. "You're going to catch us up, and you're going to let us join, because she's our friend, and we're the strongest team that you could ask for."

"We can't, in good conscience, let kids into-"

"Do we need to mention all the times that the League has attacked us in the last year? Not to mention Gentle Criminal, Stain, the whole Chisaki ordeal, should we go on?" Midoriya asked, frowning.

Endeavor went to talk again but more students started to talk.

"We can help," Kirishima chimed in. "We want to help."

"Besides," Kaminari added before any of the adults could chime in, "the more hands you have the better it'll be. We can capture more members and get her back. It's a win-win scenario. Gangs are known to be disorganized. If you can get word to your informant about a stealth mission, you might be able to get both them and (Y/L/N) out with minimal risk to them both."

"And we have useful quirks," Jirou supplied. "Kaminari can kill any power they have, Bakugou and Midoriya are good for taking stuff down, so are Kirishima and Sato. Todoroki is more than capable of restraining anyone that he comes across, and I can tell you where people are, how many and so on."

"Not to mention I can make communicators that are much harder to disconnect," Momo piped up.

"People don't really know about me yet," Shinso said, hands in his jeans pockets. "They don't know my quirk, so they're much more likely to fall for me, which is more than helpful for you, since it makes fighting back much less likely."

"We want to get her back, me more than anyone," Shouto said, arms crossed over his chest. "We can useful. Besides, I don't think I need to mention all the times that we've stepped in without your permission and gotten the objective completed while keeping everything legal."

Aizawa sighed.

"We really should just let them help," he said. "They're going to keep pushing, and I don't want any of them expelled and arrested. They are some of the best up and coming heroes. Besides, they all make good points."

"I feel the need to point out," Midoriya chimed in, "that the more of us you take, the more heroes you can have causing a distraction, or the more you can release to recharge and work on other things that are starting to take precedent, like the drug that the gang is manufacturing and selling."

There were more whispers, and finally the heroes sighed.

"Alright, but you're working with Eraserhead and Endeavor, since they're going to be leading the mission with Fatgum."

"We can work with that," Bakugou said. "But we want permission to engage if necessary."

"You would have that anyway," Fatgum said.

"We also want credit if we find her," Sero added. "We aren't going to let possible attackers think that we're defenseless. They take on one of us, they take on all of us."

"That can be discussed," Present Mic assured them.

"This should go without saying," Shouto began, "that I get to ride with her in the ambulance when we find her."

"Everyone assumed that anyway," Midnight told him. "Don't worry Todoroki, no one is going to keep you away from her."

Endeavor opened his mouth, but sharp looks from everyone had him shutting it again.

The students nodded.

"Now catch us up," Bakugou demanded.

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

You couldn't remember when you had stopped processing things the proper way.

You couldn't remember a time before the nightmares.

They talked to you, they wanted you to know about an informant. Sometimes Shouto appeared, smiling and reaching his hands out to you. Sometimes your father walked in, drunk as always, shouting at you to do better.

You retreated in on yourself.

You turned to that small part of your brain that you had made to wait out the fighting, the yelling, the hurt. You retreated into the part of yourself that you knew no one could ever enter but you.

Shouto was there like he always was. He wasn't entirely your Shouto, but he wasn't the nightmare either.

He was a figment of your imagination, but he made things a little bit better.

"I'll come," he assured you. "I'll find you."

You were lying in a meadow, a small clearing surrounded by trees that were bent over you to create a small dome of shade.

"I know you will," you told him, reaching your hand out to him.

He touched his fingers to yours, but you couldn't feel it.

You remembered someone in the past calling it dissociating, but you weren't a professional yet.

You had never done it at U.A. since you had never felt the need, but this wasn't something that you would ever be able to forget how to do.

You could still see the nightmares, but it was like it was far away, background noise.

"Do you think that you'll ever go back?" Shouto asked. "Do you think that you'll ever go back to me?"

"Maybe, if the nightmares ever stop. If I think that it's actually you that I'm going back to," you said, watching him carefully.

"Do you remember the last thing you said to me?" Shouto inquired.

"Yeah. I said, 'I'll always come back to you'. Why are you asking me that?"

"Do you remember what I said to you?"

"You said, 'Promise me you'll be safe?' I was about to go on the raid, and you were upset about not being able to go with me."

"Do you promise to remember that?" Shouto asked.

"Yeah, I promise," you told him, smiling a little.

"(Y/F/N)! Oh, darling, what did they do to you? (Y/F/N), can you hear me?"

The nightmare was getting better at looking like the real Shouto, and this one had the same voice.

"Go to him," the dream Shouto said, sitting up.

"Why?"

"(Y/F/N), blink if you can hear me," Shouto demanded.

You forced yourself to blink.

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

Shouto couldn't describe to absolute relief it was to see you blink.

He had seen the discarded cast off to the side of you, and he wasn't sure whether you would be able to hear him in that state.

"Hey darling, come on, we're gonna get you out of here, I promise," he murmured, touching your face lightly.

"Sh-Shouto," you rasped. "Shouto, wh-what was the last thing that you said to me?"

"Darling, don't try to speak," he told you, trying to figure out how to cut through the chains without hurting you.

"Shouto, what was the last thing that you said to me?" you asked again, reaching up to grab his hand.

"'Do you promise me that you'll be safe?'" he said, eyes roving over you to try and see any wounds. "That's what I said to you."

Your eyes widened in surprise before tears slipped out of your eyes.

"Sho, it really is you!"

"Darling, hey," he murmured, touching your face softly.

You were sobbing now, fully body sobs, and Shouto wanted so badly to take a moment to just relish in the fact that you were safe, but he had to get you out of there as soon as possilbe.

"Tsukuyomi," Shouto called. "Can Dark Shadow cut through chains?"

"Yes."

"I'm on the basement level of the building. I have Tempest, can you meet us down here?"

"On our way," Tokoyami assured him.

"Guys, I have her, she's in the basement with me, we're getting her out as we speak," Shouto declared over the coms, and he was met with cheers and relief that you were okay.

"How many of you are here?" you asked, wiping at your face.

"The whole class is here," Shouto told you. "Most of the hero agencies sent representatives that are here too."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, people were really upset that you were taken, especially with the role you played in apprehending Numeral gang members on the last raid, and the part you played in bringing the drug to light."

"Wow," you murmured, making Shouto laugh.

"Hold on just a little bit longer darling," he coaxed. "Our friends are on the way."

"I can't believe that it's really you," you whispered, touching his face softly, rubbing your thumb over his scar the way you did.

"Oh darling, what did they do to you?" he asked.

"For the past couple of days they've been trying to break me, they want to know who the undercover agent is. I don't know who it is though, so the leader of the Numerals used his quirk on me. He makes the drugs. His quirk makes you see things, makes you feel things. It's like he can burrow into your head and take the images out of your head."

You shuddered in his arms and he frowned as Tokoyami appeared in the doorway.

"Hello (Y/L/N)," he said, smiling at you.

"Hey little bird," you replied, your smile watery with emotions.

"Can Dark Shadow get through those chains?"

"Of course," Tokoyami told Shouto.

"Hello starlight," Dark Shadow said.

"Hi Dark Shadow," you murmured, stroking the sentinent creature before he tore through the chains like paper mache.

You rubbed at your wrists for a moment before you threw your arms around Shouto, burying your face in his neck.

"Sho," you sobbed, tears back full force.

"I've got you darling," he murmured. "I've got you. You're free, you're free."

You nodded, arms tight around him.

Shouto scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, letting you sob as much as you needed to.

The paramedics that had been called to the scene hadn't managed to get Shouto to let go of you, and you showed no signs of letting go of him, so they had managed to do everything they needed to with you clinging to him.

"She'll need physical therapy, not to mention professional trauma therapy. She's malnourished and dehydrated, not to mention suffering from exhaustion and a very severe concussion. Her ankle needs to be further inspected, and there's some internal damage, some cracked ribs that might need to be taken care of, but we can do some more thorough work at the hospital. I assume that you're coming with her?" the paramedic asked when he was finished.

"Yes, I'm her boyfriend," Shouto said.

"Alright, well, you have to let go of her so that we can get her hooked up to an IV and make sure that we don't make her concussion any worse. You really shouldn't have moved her, but there's only so much we can do about that now," the other paramedic told him.

"I-It's okay Shouto," you murmured, pulling away from him enough to wipe your face off.

Your breathing was ragged, and you looked like you wanted to go back to being unconscious, but you allowed the paramedics to get you onto an IV and a bed with a neck supporter.

"Shouto, will you stay with me?" you asked.

"Always darling," Shouto said, gripping your hand.

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

Forthree weeks afterwards, you were stuck in the hospital. Your ankle hadn't been as bad as it had been feared, you back on your feet in a week, and you were undergoing physical therapy.

You were back to a normal diet, and you were going to therapy three times a week. Well, the shrink came to you, but semantics.

Your class visited every day, bringing you your homework and recorded lessons, most of them crying, and more than elated that you were back, safe.

Shouto, after being given permission by your parents, was being counted as a family member, and he had been practically living in the hospital with you.

For the first week, he had refused to leave your hospital room. He had slept curled around you, despite the machines that you had been hooked up to, he had missed class, staying with you and keeping you company.

There was also the reason of him being the only one to be able to calm you down after a nightmare.

There were nightmares where you woke up sweaty and nervous, asking the nurse on the night shift to light the candles that were all around your room.

But there were some that had you hurtling to the small bathroom in your room, hurling the contents of your stomach up. Then there were the ones that got so bad that you locked yourself in the bathroom, hiding yourself away in a corner until someone noticed and got a hold of Shouto.

They were getting better, and you were getting better about people coming up behind you, the touching.

For a few days after being admitted to the hospital, the only person who could touch you was Shouto.

Your mother had been heart broken every time you flinched away from her touches.

Your father had only come once, and he had been carried out by hospital staff after Shouto had tossed him out of your room.

You had retreated into yourself after that, and had come clean to Shouto about some of what had happened while you were being held hostage.

The therapy was helping, and so was the massive support that you were getting from the public and other heroes that had been in similar situations.

Your friends were very understanding of you not touching them as much anymore, and you and Bakugou were closer than ever, since he had experienced something similar.

Today was your first day back in the dorms, and you weren't going to lie to yourself, you were nervous.

The class had slowly starting moving all the gifts that you were receiving into your room, so you were only carrying a small bag.

"Shouto," you began. "You know that you can walk away if I get to be too much right?"

It had been bothering you for a while, that he had stayed with you for so long. It had bothered you that he had given up so much of his time for you, while getting very little from you in return.

"Why would I do that?" Shouto asked cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"I just mean that . . . well, I know that I haven't been the easiest girlfriend to have recently, and I . . . I have more issues than when we first started dating, and things have changed. I'm way more high maintenance than I was. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted a different girl-"

"Stop it right there," he demanded, turning to you.

His eyes were hard, despite his soft tone of voice.

"(Y/F/N), I don't want anyone other than you," he said. "I don't care if you wake me up at three in the morning screaming. I don't care if you sometimes have days where you feel like you can't say anything to me. I don't care if you have days where you can't get out of bed. I love you. I love you more than anything, and those things are not going to stop me from loving you.

"You are one of the strongest women in my life, and I am not letting you go because you have some issues. We've all got issues, hell, I have issues we haven't even touched on. Those things are just another part of you that I get to love. Alright?"

You nodded, blinking back tears.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" you asked softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He waited for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You weren't entirely sure why touch was such a problem for you now. Other than the injuries you had received during the fight, nothing had happened to you that would explain it, nothing you could remember anyway.

There had been some retrograde amnesia that went along with your kidnapping, though the doctors had assured you that those memories would come back with enough time.

And they had. There were still a few blank spots, but there weren't nearly as many as there had been.

"All the right things," he murmured, kissing your forehead hesitantly.

"I love you too Shouto," you told him.

He smiled softly at you, then turned towards the doors.

They opened, revealing your friends and a huge banner with your characterized face on it.

"Surprise!" they all said, though they didn't yell it like you had thought they would.

"Welcome home (Y/F/N)," Shouto said, sliding his arm around your shoulders as you both walked out.

Yeah, this was home.

#shouto fluff #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroko shouto x reader #todoroki fluff #shouto angst #angst to fluff #todoroki angst #i have no idea where this came from #honestly #what went on inside my head to make this thing?

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Hannibal sits in on a regular conversation between y/n and her family. Y/n insists it could have gone worse.

⚠️Bigass trigger warning⚠️: Verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, blood, mention of alcohol abuse and suicide

Anna lived her life believing that she was the main character, constantly denying personhood to everyone around her. She was the romantic hero, and everyone else existed to forward her plot.

This metaphor was imperfect, however, because in all the books you'd read, the main character must overcome some kind of challenge. Nobody ever said no to Anna. Nobody ever criticized Anna. Nobody but you. So you were pigeonholed into the role of antagonist for it. You had to give her credit; growing up on the receiving end of her and Theresa's torture was a compelling villain origin story.

It was obvious that she only wanted you at her wedding to present her with an obstacle. Heaven forbid her story progress without some semblance of petty drama out of her control. She'd cornered you into a painful catch-22; you wanted vengeance, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction of having her special day ruined. What was your play? Ruin it just a little? Walk away?

These thoughts passed through your mind as you sat through the boring ceremony. You wanted to lean over and whisper everything to Hannibal, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The vows seemed to drag on forever. Liam's English accent grated on your ears and you wished that he would just shut the hell up.

The ceremony concluded and you hoped to skip out on the reception with a purse full of mini cannolis, but fate had other plans. In a last-minute reach for some kind of scene, the blushing bride waved you over to the head table.

"[F/N]!" Anna shouted, with a big smile across her face. "Come on!"

You fought the urge to feel endeared by this. She looked too happy to be harmful. Your guard was all the way up as you and Hannibal approached the table.

Hannibal pulled a seat out for you while you studied Anna's expression. She fixed her doe eyes on Hannibal. You knew from experience that Anna had the same powerlust as grandma and Theresa. She was just better at keeping a lid on it.

"[F/N], you remember Liam?" Anna said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah." You nodded, scooting your chair up. "Nice to see you again, Liam."

"Good to see you again, too [F/N]."

"Liam is from Birmingham." She bragged, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Alabama?" You piped up before taking a drink from your water glass.

Every time you were forced to interact with Liam, she reminded you that the man with the strong and unmistakable English accent, was in fact from England. And every time, you slipped in the Alabama comment. It was never not funny.

"Liam, Anna," you said. "This is my fiance, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Many congratulations to you two." Hannibal offered.

"Dr. Lecter, thank you so much for coming." Anna returned. "And thank you for taking such good care of our precious [F/N]. I hope she's not giving you too much trouble. She was quite a handful growing up, but we made it work."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're only four years older than me." You hide your passive-aggressive jab beneath a smile. "You can't take credit for a job you didn't do."

Grandma always thought Anna's protective, borderline maternal behavior towards you was adorable. Of course, it disgusted you. You were little more than an accessory to her. A baby doll she could simulate motherhood with. But, in fairness to her, that was all you were to the adult in the house too. Monkey see, monkey do.

"So have you two set a date yet?" Grandma interrupted your thoughts, just trying to keep the tension down.

"Goodness, no." Hannibal answered. "Ours is a long-term engagement."

"Yeah." You added. "Not until I finish school."

"Well, it's not my fault you aren't expected to graduate on time." Grandma said into her wine.

You tightened your grip on your water glass. "Well, changing your major halfway through will do that."

"I'm just saying," Grandma continued. Whenever she was 'just saying' anything, you knew she was raring to stir things up. "If you had just stayed the engineering track, you wouldn't have to keep Hannibal waiting."

"Well!" Anna cut in, offended that the attention was off her for more than a minute. "Liam and I waited until after college."

"Yes, Anna," Grandma said dismissively, before turning back to you. "Y'know, Dr. Lecter here could probably tell you that psychologically speaking, women are more likely to drop out of college and become strippers when they change their majors?"

Now it was Hannibal's turn to down his entire glass of wine. "Ms. [L/N], where did you get that information?"

"Oh, it was an article I found on Facebook." Grandma answered. "I'll have [F/N] send you a link."

"Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the concept of misinformation?"

"Of course." She looked offended at the implication that she could possibly not know something.

"See, social media websites like Facebook are inundated with misinformation campaigns." Hannibal explained. "Your claim is not rooted in any psychological fact."

"Yeah, also," You cut in. You scanned the area for escape routes if your attempt to change the subject went awry. "There's a wonderful documentary about how Facebook misinformation campaigns targeted rural counties in England leading up to the Brexit vote."

"Oh, we have a funny story about Brexit." Anna interrupted, taking the bait, hook line and sinker.

Before she could recount the same boring anecdote about being at some regional chain restaurant when the vote was cast, Theresa and her husband joined the table.

"Sorry we're late," Theresa sat down. "Damage control is a twenty-four hour job. What were we talking about?"

"Misinformation." Liam said.

"Perfect timing." You muttered.

"Finally, all three of my girls are together again." Grandma threw her head back and rejoiced. "When was the last time we all got together? Just us four girls, huh?"

"Remember the day before prom, we all went out go get manicures?" Anna reminisced. "And we took pictures of us all dressed up?"

"Oh I remember." You scanned the area for any alcohol to ingest.

"Oh, this is so funny." Grandma laughed hysterically. "Dr. Lecter, did you hear this story? [F/N] went to the prom with a boy who had all along been using her to get close to Theresa! They got together that night! Dated for two whole years after that."

"I've heard an iteration of it." He said, looking over his shoulder. He flagged down a waiter who was holding a bottle of champagne. "Leave the bottle, please."

"Don't drink too much, [F/N]." Anna scolded. "Save some alcohol for the rest of us."

You made sure to maintain eye contact with her as you filled your flute to capacity. "Grandma's paying, isn't she?"

"Anna, baby," Grandma said, rubbing her temples. "It's fine. Let [F/N] drink herself silly. It's a party, right?"

"Wow," Theresa sneered. You knew exactly what she was going to say next. "Like mother, like daughter."

Everyone at the table had enough decorum to recognize that Theresa went too far. You crushed the champagne flute in your grip, letting shards of glass dig into your skin. You glared at Theresa, blood oozing from your palm and dripping onto the white tablecloth.

Wordlessly, Hannibal removed the offending glass from your hand and swaddled the affected area in a napkin. He put pressure on the cut, letting the blood absorb into the cloth.

"Is this the famed '[L/N] woman telepathy'?" Liam whispered to Anna.

"No, [F/N] is just mad because her mother was a drunk who killed herself." Anna thought she was being inconspicuous.

"This has been fun." You stand up from the table. "Really. Great way to spend a Saturday."

"[F/N], sit down..." Grandma ordered, sounding exhausted. "You know Theresa didn't mean that."

"No." You said, each syllable out of her mouth pushing you a step closer to your breaking point. "Y'know what? No. I don't have to put up with this anymore. Anna, congratulations. I hope you and Liam have many long years together."

You turned around to exit as quietly as you could, Hannibal at your side. Your grandmother, who somehow hadn't hit her daily allotted dose of confrontation, wouldn't have it.

"Dr. Lecter, tell [F/N] she's being unreasonable." Grandma pleaded.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his long-spanning career, he'd never once met a person as tone-deaf as Beatrice [L/N]. He kept his quiet composure as he slowly approached the table.

"Beatrice," he said, beckoning her to lean in. He whispered something into her ear that left her stunned and quaking.

You could hear your grandmother's hysterical sobs growing softer as Hannibal hurried you out.

"Keep pressure on that cut, love." He instructed, talking over the increasingly loud shouts of agony from the head table. "You'll need a few stitches."

Once you were far enough from the venue, you had to ask. "What on earth did you say to her?"

"Nothing that you don't already know." He answered, facing forward.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #tw blood #tw emotional manipulation #cult girl

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

The Purest Things-Damaged

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings: Mentions of rape, murder, and cheating. Canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: and so we begin our descent into the world of slow-burn! this piece begins at the end of season 3 episode 13 & carries into seasons 3 episode 14. thank you to everyone who has interacted with my stories, commenting and reposting helps creators so much! enjoy this installment :)

The Purest Things Masterlist

Gif Credit: @hqtchner

january 2008

Bookend: “We are all damaged. We have all been hurt. We have all had to learn painful lessons. We are all recovering from some mistake, loss, betrayal, abuse, injustice or misfortune. All of life is a process of recovery that never ends. We each must find ways to accept and move through the pain and to pick ourselves back up....Each tragedy is an announcement that some good will indeed come in time. Be patient with yourself.” ― Bryant McGill

Another day, another murderer locked away. This case proved that sometimes, the so-called "good guys" can be just as selfish as the "bad guys." The special agent who recruited the BAU's help, Jill Morris, used this case to obtain personal fame and grow her career.

You sit next to Rossi aboard the plane. He had a more personal interaction with Morris throughout the case, and you can tell her actions have left him more than disappointed.

Looking out the window at the sun setting behind the clouds, you mumble to yourself, "What's the difference?"

"Did you say something?" Dave speaks up.

Looking to him, you brush it off, "Oh. Nothing. I was just talking to myself."

He crosses his legs and smiles a warm smile at you, "Penny, for your thoughts then."

"I guess...I just don't understand how Jill Morris's motives can be any different from Jeremy Andrus's. Of course, Jill didn't murder or rape anyone. But, she exploited this case for her own personal benefit. She didn't just use the unsub; she exploited the victims as well. How is that any different than Jeremy using women for his own gratification?"

David sighs, "Aristotle said, 'Every practical pursuit or undertaking seems to aim at some good.' Our brains are wired for love and solidarity. Greed forms to undermine that wiring and trick others into believing that their means to an end is done for "good." People believe that to maintain that myth, any and all costs to others are simply casualties in the long run."

"There is all the difference in the world between helping another soul and exploiting their hardship for your own gain and deceiving yourself that they are the same," he continues, "I tried to show Jill that. But, I think she's already determined that the reason she does this job is not for the same reasons that we do. The rush of catching a suspect comes second to the excitement she gets when being praised for her achievement."

"What happened to her empathy," you wonder, "Empathy is a natural foundation in each of our lives, and our society functions on it! How could that not overpower her desire for recognition? I mean, for Christ's sake, her friend just died!"

"Unfortunately," he solemnly says, "It is harder to understand the motives of our peers than it is to profile a serial killer."

+++++

You wake as if there is an emergency, like sleeping had become a deadly thing, your heart pounds, and thoughts jumble throughout your brain. Shooting up from your seat, you crawl over a sleeping Rossi and stumble your way to the bathroom.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the edge of the sink. Looking cautiously into the mirror, as if you are uncertain of what you'll see, you take in your ghostly appearance. Sweat beads drip down your forehead. Unable to comprehend the blurry remnants of your dream, you turn on the faucet and splash your face with cold water.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you notice everyone is sound asleep. Thank goodness no one noticed your state of panic. You notice that one overhead reading light is on and look to see Hotch awake and blankly staring out the window.

"Can't sleep either?" You ask, sitting across from him.

"Are you alright?" He asks, trying to deflect your attention.

You squint at him, unwilling to back down, "Are you?"

He looks at you intently, taking the sight of you in inch-by-inch. No one has asked him that over the past few weeks. In fact, everyone has seemingly been avoiding him since he was served his divorce papers. Perhaps they are doing it because they are unsure how to support him or genuinely feel that what he needs right now is space.

However, you know that being alone is the last thing he needs right now. "Hotch, I know it isn't my place, and I--I'm sorry if this is overstepping. But that expression on your face that you've worn for the past few weeks isn't foreign to me. Perhaps to everyone else, it is. They don't know what to do or say. You're their unit chief, and they are used to you being strong and keeping it together for the sake of everyone else."

He straightens his posture, his attention centered on you.

"I witnessed firsthand the ways that divorce can torment people. My parents got a sudden divorce when I was 14. It was unexpected to all of us. My father was unfaithful, and although my mom was willing to forgive him, he didn't want to put in the work anymore. He found a new outlet for his frustrations. I watched my mother and father waste away for years," you lament.

Hotch sits on the edge of his seat, his eyes trained keenly on you. It was odd for him to make a connection so quick, to give his trust so easily. In fact, he hardly trusts at all. Dave and Haley are the only ones who have really been given an insider's peek into the mind and heart of Aaron Hotchner. There was something in the way he listens so actively to what you are saying. You would be lying if you said you didn't notice his gaze aimed at your lips.

There is a sympathetic and heartfelt concern he shows for you, one second only to your own regard for him. He listens like he is absorbing your words. The longer you spend in each other's presence, the more you both realize that this is the kind of friendship you both have needed for far too long. Even if the words go unspoken, you share an empathetic understanding of one another, and you are sure it has been there since the day you met. Hotch has been fascinated by you since he watched your interview with Strauss over and over again, though he would never let it be known.

+++++

February 2008

Today is the day that you get to accompany Hotch and Reid on the Criminal Personality Research Project to interview Chester Hardwick before his execution. Hardwick's case is one you know inside and out. You wrote a research report on it that was awarded the Graduate Student Ethics Writing Competition winner for the American Psychological Association and was published in their Ethics and Behavior journal. Agent Hotchner suggested that you tag along, considering you know just as much about the case as Spencer does.

You and Spencer absentmindedly fiddle with the knickknacks that rest upon the desk as you wait to be escorted to see Chester Hardwick.

Hotch's phone begins to ring, and he answers it, "Yeah, J.J... Um, no, it's--It's a personal matter. Yes, thank you. I will take care of it when I get back."

"Everything okay?" You ask softly.

"Yeah, fine." He says abruptly.

"We can do this interview another time," Reid offers.

Aaron huffs, "Well, he is scheduled to be executed next week."

"I can take the lead on the interview if you w-" Reid unintentionally pushes.

You cut him off, "Reid."

Hotch shoots you an appreciative look.

Anytime sir.

"Agent Hotchner?" A relatively short man wearing freakishly petite glasses comes to the door.

The Unit Chief shakes the man's hand and introduces you and Spencer.

"You're here to see our infamous inmate Hardwick," the warden exclaims.

"Yes," you say, "He agreed to meet with us as part of our Criminal Personality Research Project before his execution."

The man smiles widely, "I've read your research on Hardwick many times. I must say, seeing your perspective on the mind of such a prolific killer was very enlightening."

You beam with pride at his commendation. Instinctively you look to Hotch, who appears to have the slight trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You wonder, how can he go from scowling and frustrated one minute to fighting back the urge to smile at the mention of your achievements? You bite your lip to suppress any further needless excitement.

The warden continues to ramble, "Serial killers are kind of a hobby of mine. Chester is the only one I've ever met in person, though. I bet you've met quite a few."

"Sir," Hotch interjects, "We'd very much like to get started as soon as we can."

Time to put our serious pants back on.

You can visibly see your superior's annoyance, and you stifle a chuckle.

The warden quickly composes himself and apologizes for his enthusiasm, touching his hand to Hotch's shoulder in the process. Hotch's mouth falls agape, and his sights shoot to you. A small snort escapes you, and you cover your mouth, attempting to conceal it as a cough. He squints at you as if he is mentally murdering you. You crinkle your nose at him.

Don't mentally murder me when we are about to interview one of the most prolific killers of our time.

The warden leads you into the small cell that you will convert into a makeshift interrogation room. Soon enough, you hear the clanking of chains echoing in the hallway. Everyone's eyesight is fixed on the door.

A silver-haired man dressed in a yellow jumpsuit walks in with an air of arrogance and determination. He glares at Agent Hotchner, who mirrors the prisoner's actions exactly. Hotch states that keeping the prisoner chained will not be necessary, a call that both you and Spencer are unsure of.

Hardwick sits across from you and leans into the table, "I know you."

"And I know you. Too well, I think," you respond.

A menacing grin sweeps across his face, "Oh, I like you already. How about you send these two away so the grown-ups can talk."

You can hear your boss scoff from behind you.

"Chester, it's time to get serious."

"You were born April 4, 1950?" Spencer asks.

"Does my birthday really matter?"

"It's customary for us to start at the beginning. We want to know as much as we can about your childhood," Reid continues.

"There's nothing to know. It was average. I lived in a nice house on a quiet street. I ate cereal, went to school, watched cartoons."

"I don't have time for this," Hotch raises his voice, causing you to jump slightly, "You grew up in a series of projects, each one worse than the last. You spent your teenage years peeping into your female neighbors' windows and burglarizing their underwear drawers when you got the chance. You set 100 small fires for which you spent 2 years in juvenile detention."

You glance at Reid from the corner of your eye; you are both uncomfortable with the direction Hotch is taking this.

"We've done extensive research, Mr. Hardwick," you say, gently trying to soften the blow and appeal to the man's ego. If Hotch is taking the bad cop role, you need to be this psychopath's ally.

"We've talked to almost everyone you've ever known," you continue, "including your mother."

Chester swivels on the balls of his feet, "Good ol' Jean? I'll bet she was a real treat."

"At this point, lying to us isn't really possible or helpful," Spencer offers a slight smirk to the man.

"Y/N, right?" the prisoner turns his attention to you, "They're wrong. They're all wrong."

"About what, Chester?" You implore him.

"I started a lot more than one hundred fires," he peers out the window.

You look up at Hotch, and he sighs in surrender.

Chester antagonizes you three, stating that no one care's whether or not they hear the truth. In between his jabs, he strays to various different series of thoughts. Most are meaningless, but it is his way of trying to get under your skin. For you and Spencer, it is relatively easy to maintain your composure. For Hotch, however, Hardwick's digs do nothing but add fuel to the already lit flame under the special agent.

"Let's talk about the specifics of this case, Chester," you interrupt his rant, "Why did you choose Sheila O'Neal?"

He shakes his head, "You gotta show me a picture. I don't know their names."

As if you can feel Hotch's anger radiating off of his body, you brace yourself for the oncoming strike.

"Is that what this is all about," he says disgustedly, "Some chance for you to relive all of this?"

"I have an excellent memory," Chester brags.

You tune his impassionate speech out and focus your observance on your boss. His scalding stare at Hardwick can only translate one way, 'I have initiated my emotional indifference. I could kill you and not care one bit. So proceed with caution.'

"They were toys, a diversion," you hear Hardwick chant as you tune back into the present. Hotch looks anywhere but at the killer in front of him, his gaze eventually landing you. You are some kind of shelter to him that neither of you has yet acknowledged or come to understand.

Your stomach churns at Chester's descriptions of his victims. He describes them as useless objects that, once their purpose was served, were discarded like garbage.

"Why did you ask us here?" Hotch charges.

The wicked man looks at you, his eyes void of a soul and his stare sending a chill down your veins.

"I wanted to speak to her."

Your breath catches at the back of your throat.

With that, Hotch straightens up and fervently positions himself between Chester and you. "Reid, pack it up," he commands.

Reid looks to you, "Are you sure?"

"No, now." Your superior repeats himself with even more fervor. He presses the buzzer to signal the guards to release us and says, "Have a nice trip. You're going where you belong." Hotch makes sure to put as much distance between you and Hardwick as possible. He buzzes the ringer again. No response.

"It's 5:17," Hardwick chuckles.

You close your eyes, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Reaching out for Hotch's arm, you lower his hand from the buzzer. "The evening yard begins at 5 o'clock. No one is going to come open that door for-"

"At least thirteen minutes," Chester disrupts. He waltzes over the table and takes one of the images of his victims into his hand. Holding it up as if to brag to us about it, he says, "And it took me less than five minutes to do this."

You push aside your worry. Instead, you choose to focus on all of the information you have accumulated over the years about Chester Hardwick. There has to be something you can use to your advantage to diffuse this situation.

"Perhaps in all of your research, you should have familiarized yourselves with the guard tones," Hardwick jeers.

"I heard the tones," Hotch counters in a monotone voice.

"So you planned to be locked inside with me, with no guns or weapons."

Hotch shakes his head, his voice more natural than before, "I won't need a gun."

Spencer places his hand on your arm and begins to guide you to the other side of the room.

"There's no way I am going to be executed next week," Chester taunts, kneading his hands together. "Not after I kill three FBI agents. You saved my life by coming here." His venomous words ring in your ears.

Hotch's tone deepens, "Unfortunately for you, I am not a five-foot-one-hundred-pound girl."

Your pulse quickens at Hotch's threat, and your attention is rapt by his display of dominance. He begins to shed his jacket. You feel yourself flushing; attraction suddenly entangles you as if it were an invisible rope.

Now is the worst possible time to be feeling this. Calm down.

"All of your life, you've gone after victims who couldn't fight back," he fiercely says, "and the rest of the time you spent looking over your shoulder." You understand the intensity in his tone and sense a great deal of emotion behind his words.

He rips his tie from his collar, and your breathing hitches in the back of your throat. Hopefully, Spencer doesn't notice, and if he does, he chalks it up to the deadly situation you find yourself in.

"You were always worried about the knock on the door," Hotch doesn't back down, "Scared that somebody like me would be on the other side waiting to put you away."

Well, if you keep ripping your tie off like th--no. Not gonna go there right now. Focus on the pyshco-killer threatening to kill you.

Now, Hotch intimidatingly points his finger directly at Hardwick.

If only I were on the receiving end of tha--no! Now. Is. Not. The. Time.

"At your core, you are a coward," Hotch fires.

You have to do something. Hardwick is enraged, and Hotch has nothing left to lose.

Without even giving it a second thought, you blurt out, "Chester, do you want to know why you killed those women?"

"What?" The prisoner hisses.

Spencer speaks up, "Earlier, you said you wished you were different. We can tell you why you are...what you are."

He begins moving towards you, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice your boss carefully making equal strides. You motion for him to stop.

"You can tell me why I did what I did?"

"I think so," you nod, "Don't you, Dr. Reid?"

"I do. Your mother is bipolar. And almost certainly an undifferentiated schizophrenic. Your father suffered severe shell shock in the war, what we now refer to as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. As far as I can tell, he remained clinically depressed the rest of his life."

"Exactly," you say, giving Spencer a chance to gather his thoughts after having thrown him under the bus.

"53% of all serial killers have some form of mental illness inherent to their families. Chester, in your case, both of your parents suffered from psychological disorders, which they essentially took out on each other as much as they beat you. So, violence sort of became a normal expression of love in your household," you say, eager to have some kind of breakthrough with him while subliminally directing Spencer's string of thoughts to follow yours.

Allowing Reid to pick up where you leave off, he takes charge of the conversation and explains how a portion of one's brain wants what it wants without conscience or judgment. A part of the brain that no doubt took over Hotch's reasoning powers moments ago, though you do not blame him.

"Earlier, you said your victims never had a chance. I think you know deep down that it was you that never really had a chance," he concludes. And with that victorious resolution, the guards unlock the door. Hotch storms out, and Reid follows behind.

"Is that true that I never had the chance?" Hardwick calls out after you both.

You stop in your tracks, "I don't know."

"Maybe," Spencer nudges you out the door.

++++

In the car, Hotch looks at you in the rearview mirror, "That was smart to get Hardwick to focus on himself long enough for the guards to come back."

You pat Spencer's shoulder, "I give all the credit to boy wonder and his beautiful statistic-filled brain. I'm sorry for all of the times I said you were running out of storage with all of that useless data."

"I find that I do some of my best work under intense terror," he declares, "Wait. Useless data? When did you say that?"

You pinch him softly and chuckle, "I'm kidding."

"I'm sorry," Hotch sighs.

You meet his gaze in the mirror once again, "For what?"

His chestnut eyes reveal pangs of remorse and guilt, but something tells you there's more to those feelings than what occurred at the prison.

"I antagonized the situation."

"No, you didn't," Spencer states.

"I certainly didn't help."

"Well, I can't argue with you there," you kid.

His piercing eyes suddenly twinkle, causing you to blush slightly. You quickly look down at your feet until your cheeks cool down.

Hotch sighs in defeat, "So Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers uncontested so that nobody wastes money on lawyers."

That statement is all too familiar to you. Yet again, your heart shatters for the Hotchners.

"You don't want to?" Spencer asks innocently.

He means well, but you know from experience that such a question only unleashes a tidal wave of painful emotions for the one fighting for his family.

"What I want, I'm not going to get," Hotch laments.

His eyes, once filled with depth, now distant and empty.

++++

Glancing up from your paperwork and into your supervisor's office, you take note of his gravity-drawn shoulders that carry the weight of the world on them. He repeatedly picks up a stack of papers and then drops them back down atop his desk, covering his face with his hands.

"What do you think is going on up there?" Derek asks, pointing his pen in the direction of the office.

"I might have an idea. I'm going to go take my report; anyone else's done?" They all hand you their paperwork for you to deliver to the boss.

You hesitate to knock on his door but apprehensively do so anyways.

He invites you in. Your heart sinks as you approach his desk, able to get a closer look at his beaten expression. You always knew he was hiding pain behind his tough exterior, but now he wears it on the surface, most likely unintentionally.

Placing the paperwork on his desk, you notice the heading on the papers he was gripping tightly.

SUPREME COURT STATE OF VIRGINIA: MARITAL SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT

Hotch's eyes move slowly, laboriously, to look at you as if it takes a concentrated effort to do so.

"Heartache is a real thing," you sympathize with him, "In fact, Reid even told me that a broken heart can show up on medical scans. When a heart breaks, your body and brain need time to recuperate. There's no set amount of time or remedy that will heal you. Don't set your expectations of yourself too high, and surround yourself with the people who love you."

His chin trembles, and his eyes flutter as he blinks back tears.

You turn to leave the room but look over your shoulder one last time, "We are all here for you, Hotch."

Just as you are about to shut the door, you hear him call out to you, "Y/L/N!"

His stare reveals a vulnerability you have had yet to see in him.

"Call me Aaron."

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

That One Fucked-Up Rexwalker AU

OKAY so people showed interest in this! Cool! This is... actually you know what, yeah, this falls into dead dove territory. It's kind of angst with a happy ending? At the very least it's hurt/comfort.

Warnings: rape as psychological torture by an enemy party, later dubious consent by parties that are at least trying to make it consensual but the situation makes it difficult to navigate

This was inspired partially by the first chapter of this collection by @the-writing-mill, which features Obi-Wan getting absolutely railed by a fucking machine set up by droids who don't understand consent. I got to thinking about the set-up and slid sideways into a slightly different context.

So Anakin, in all his shitty luck, gets captured, as one does. Whoever captures him has strict instructions to avoid physically damaging him or permanently fucking up his connection to the Force, because they'd like to use him as a weapon eventually, but to play around with his psychological damage in whatever way suits.

We'll say it's Ventress, who vastly prefers horrifying physical damage for torture, or killing/hurting people's loved ones in front of them, and now has to get creative to deal with Skywalker, because for whatever reason, she only managed to get Anakin and not any of his friends.

Obviously, Palpatine is the one saying 'don't damage the good.' She doesn't know that, though, just that Dooku said His Sith Master said to leave Skywalker intact for later.

So the easy route to psychological damage is, well, rape. But she's not into him, and there aren't really any other sentients in her little torture castle, but last she checked Skywalker is really needy? She's picked up on the fact that this guy really loves Having people.

She handles it: strip him down, strap him down, and get a fucking machine involved. Naked and cold and with a pipe leaking from the ceiling. Let a protocol droid keep an eye on things so he doesn't have some kind of permanent physical damage, but basically just have him unceasingly fucked for like a week, sometimes edging and sometimes forcing and sometimes just really digging into the oversensitivity, whether he's awake or asleep or what. Nothing but air and metal, and sometimes Ventress when she comes by to taunt him. There's magic involved to up his sexual craving without making it any easier on him.

It's fucked up but he does get saved! Eventually!

Ventress did her job, didn't enjoy it, and doesn't care that he's gone. She has people to kill, okay, she's bored.

So, you know, Anakin needs time to recover. He doesn't try to argue that he doesn't, at least partly because he's having trouble standing. He'll be fine! Stop worrying, guys! It's fine!

It's not fine, everyone tells him, because that was fucked!

It takes a while to get back to Coruscant. It's normally a few days, but there's a disruption on the hyperlane they'd use, sooooooo they're stuck.

Anakin tries to make some calls to Padme. When the calls connect, she helps. Obi-Wan was part of the rescue team, so he's there to do what he can, but Anakin keeps flinching away. Ahsoka is helpful because Anakin's hindbrain reads her as Not A Threat, but nobody's telling her what kind of torture Anakin was dealing with, because she's Designated Baby.

Anakin is alternately overwhelmed by physical touch and craving it, and the fact that he just got the Force back isn't helping.

(It later comes to light that the reason he flinches from Obi-Wan and Ahsoka is because they've got the Force and a person with the Force approaching for that week meant Ventress, and that's--not great. And it's just a LOT and REALLY BRIGHT after his time in the Force-nullifying cuffs.)

So Anakin spends a lot of time alone, craving people while being deeply unnerved by the ones he's most able to ask for that sort of thing (his master and padawan). Rex is one of a handful of clones that volunteer to check in on Anakin until they get to Coruscant. He's not the only one who walks in on Anakin shifting uncomfortably and looking red in the face, but he's the one that actually asks about it.

Anakin, with some prodding, does not admit to the problem. He does, however, admit to a different problem, and asks if Rex would be okay with a hug, or maybe putting an arm around Anakin's shoulder, or--actually, no, this is stupid, forget he said anythi-- Rex sits down next to him and pulls Anakin into his side and just lets Anakin relax into him.

Anakin starts shivering. Shuddering. Crying, after a while. Rex lets it happen and tries not to panic, just rubs an hand up and down Anakin's arm.

They don't really talk about it, but Anakin does end up cuddling with Rex for a few hours a day while they try to get everyone home, and Anakin's kind of on enforced medical leave, so he can't really help until Obi-Wan comes up with a solution that gives Anakin a job directly.

Rex finally gets an answer to why Anakin keeps looking uncomfortable and close to tears but embarrassed about it. He doesn't, for the record, press for that answer. Instead, he accidentally walks in on Anakin three fingers deep in his own ass and whining into his pillow.

Which is. Awkward.

Obviously.

Turns out whatever Ventress did to him has him feeling incredibly empty without something to plug him up! It sucks! He hates it! He's been trying very hard not to submit to this need, but it's still there and he needs to be filled up and just snapped and had to do something about it!

This is, as you can imagine, not a comfortable conversation for anyone, but Rex tries to cheer him up with "Well, Jedi have stipends, right? You can probably find, uh, a toy, right? Once we're back on Coruscant? Or the Senator...?"

Anakin doesn't want Padme to know.

Anakin is also near tears but that's. Well. Rex is used to that by now.

(Anakin isn't using shipboard fabricators to make a dildo or plug because have fun explaining that on the expense report!)

So Rex is in this awkward position of having to comfort his recently-more-traumatized-than-before superior officer, whom he just walked in on furiously and tearfully masturbating due to said trauma...

And Rex is pretty much just like "Dude, please call your wife and have her talk you through the... whole... thing... I'm just, I think you'd probably feel less upset about having to fill yourself or whatever if she was talking you through it?"

They drop the subject for a bit, but Anakin is still Fucked Up in many ways, including new and exciting ones, and it turns out he hasn't been sleeping! And only sleeps if there's someone he trusts nearby!

So obviously Rex volunteers because fuck it, it's not like there's anything about his General he hasn't seen yet, right? So, yeah! Sleepy cuddles! Intended to be platonic!

Rex wakes up hard and flushed and with a very much still asleep Anakin grinding his ass against Rex's crotch.

Which, under significantly different circumstances, he'd not be upset by... But given literally everything going on, um. No?

Rex has no idea what to do, so he just kind of lays there and tries to shift away so his back is pressed to the wall and Anakin isn't accidentally trying to fuck himself in his sleep. Which works.

For about fifteen minutes.

And then Anakin is whining and shuffling back and Rex just tries to wake him up like Dude, You Don't Actually Want This, You Told Me You Don't Want This

And they separate and avoid each other and shower, and Rex leaves to go do Things while Anakin continues to try to meditate away what trauma he can before they get back to Coruscant for extremely long mandated therapy.

Rex shows up that evening to cuddle again, but Anakin tries to turn him away because He Can't Be Sexually Assualting His Friends In His Sleep, so he should honestly just sleep alone, right? Right, okay, bye Rex, Anakin is so sorry about this morning--

And Rex interrupts that he's not actually upset about it, he's just upset about Anakin being in this position, and Anakin doesn't actually want Rex so that's kind of upsetting, and Rex would be very open to this later after the war when they're not in a position to fuck up their entire legion with a change in dynamics--

And this goes back and forth for a bit before Rex realizes that Anakin does actually want him, and did before this whole Situation happened, and Anakin realizes that Rex is interested in him and NOT just trying to 'do his duty for his Jedi' or whatever.

And anyway, it turns into some very sweet lovemaking every night where Anakin gets to fall asleep with a cock in his ass, filled with cum, with Padme's blessing, until they get to Coruscant and he can find a plug for the nights they're not together (and also some therapy).

When Obi-Wan finds out they're fucking, he's actually furious and ALSO unsure of which one's taking advantage of the other.

Initially assumes Rex is taking advantage of Anakin's recent emotional traumas. Anakin protests that he asked Rex for this, and Obi-Wan is asking in horror if Anakin ordered one of the soldier under his command to do this, and it all just kind of goes very poorly.

Everyone means well. Nobody really succeeds at it.

#Rexwalker #Captain Rex #Anakin Skywalker #asajj ventress #Obi Wan Kenobi #star wars #the clone wars #torture tw #psychological torture tw #rape tw #phoenix posts #dead dove do not read #dead dove

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rare-yanderes · 3 years

Text

(F/H) =favorite hobby.

I have the weirdest crush on this freaking duck and I don’t know why, so I’m taking out my confusion on this matter by making him yandere. Sorry that this is so long, boring and slow but I’m a sucker for slow burns and just dislike instant love. This went from just from headcannons to a freaking long ass story. I think I’ll make more on how the reader reacts when they find out just how mentally fucked Scrooge became.

Who knows, maybe I’ll write one for good ol’ Flinty. I have a feeling he’d just drop kick any rival he spots without much qualms about it. Meanwhile, Scrooge has a full on psychological derailment.

TW: manipulation, dependent behavior, stalking, and more.

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•To be honest, the likelyhood of Scrooge turning into a yandere might be higher than you think. He’s capable of self defense and can fight. He literally hunts treasure for a living. He also has a trillion dollar stockpile sitting around begging to be used for cover ups. His determination is pretty crazy, and he’s seen a lot on his adventures, things that would kind of instill a paranoia over time or an unhealthy me mentality. He can easily hide behind a professional front. Oh, and if he so wanted, he could travel and bury any evidence under a volcano. :)

•Since this is a yandere AU or, I’m gonna go with the idea that this is a what if the show had a TV-14 rating as well, so much darker themes can link and be explored.

•After pretty much a century of adventure, most of which includes violence and fighting through perils, human or not so, Scrooge is desensitized to quite a bit of violence and the dark and greedy side of the world. He’s seen the best of people and also the worst. This plays majorly in anyone who becomes a yandere; how exposed they are to people’s bad side or their own dark tendencies.

•Scrooge himself is not perfect and has demonstrated some traits of greediness, paranoia, and general distrustful behavior which is perfectly reasonable considering his work and the things he exposes himself too during it.

•Even though he loves adventure, there are a lot of bad things that happen on them that he seems to bottle up or keep to himself. Bottling up things causes a negative buildup in anyone, especially Scrooge because he expects that loving his life’s work will repair the same damage it sometimes does to him.

•Most likely, Scrooge developed an affinity with you through your similar drive for adventure. Maybe you worked for him in some way and he saw you defend someone or maybe you outsmarted one of his adversaries on an adventure he decided to bring you on. Regardless, you’ve caught his attention and this is only the beginning.

•A rival love interest’s biggest mistake is mistaking his age for a weakness. One minute he’s complaining about someone being on his lawn, the other they’re buried under it.

•Scrooge would probably connect most if he’s seen that you used to be in his shoes before, or at least a similar situation. Maybe you’re struggling financially but working your ass off to stabilize your income. As someone with the humble origins of a shoeshiner, Scrooge understands perfectly. Despite his incredible stockpile of wealth, he knows what’s it’s like to be at rock bottom.

•At first, you’re probably obviously very suprised with Scrooge’s involvement in your life. He’s from an entirely different world than yours after all, the top of the pyramid. Depending on your origins, you might react quite differently. Currently, you managed to find yourself stuck in a job you hated, working for someone you despised. It was a miserable, repetitive job that brought to your life a void of boredom.

•You craved adrenaline, even if it would get you killed, you finally figured that at least you’d go out with a spark. Putting on a smiling face, you accept a position at McDuck industries thinking that it was going to be another office job. By your luck, (or, later on, unfortunate luck), you managed to score a position that required you to be near Scrooge quite often.

•This gave both of you time to acquaint with eachother and the opportunity for him to see the potential in you as an adventurer instead of just an employee. Scrooge rarely lets people in beyond family, and is quite reserved so he himself questions what he sees in you at first, distrusting you even.

•When you are taken on your first adventure, you nearly boil over with eagerness. There’s a worry at first of the treachery involved but eventually, as you venture on more and more explorations, that fear dulls and you think the adrenaline as far more important than the possible loss of your life.

•Craving adrenaline is the main reason at first as to why you to want to stay around Scrooge. Despite his repeated attempts to brush or push you away, you find yourself excited every time you get to explore and finally get to see a world that you thought you’d never visit.

•Still, Scrooge remains cold and you can’t figure out why beyond the reason that he’s just a pessimistic old capitalist. As much as you want the adrenaline, you kinda can’t help but eventually enjoy his presence as well despite his temper and general grumpiness. Having been alone for over two decades without friends does that to someone. You needed warmth again.

•Maybe you grew attached to all the times you felt you were winning when you snubbed an artifact. Also, after collecting and sneaking a few gold coins into your own pocket, you were finally getting out of debt and on track to actually start your own business involving (F/H). You had the dream that you could travel where you wanted and finally find peace from your own mind and problems.

•Scrooge, despite his own warnings to himself not to persue, can’t help but offer you a job working for him. You made adventuring a million times better and were a great addition to the team, providing your own perspective or plan for the times he and his family would journey out. Oh, and he’d finally get the opportunity to be around you more. It was refreshing to see how optimistic you managed to remain despite your current financial predicament. (Which he contemplated solving.)

•Soon, however, Scrooge began to see that you were not as happy go lucky as you pretended to be, at least not when you weren’t on another treasure hunt. Something appeared to be gnawing at you. Deep down inside, it appeared to plague you and Scrooge began to worry for your well being and as a too curious for his own good duck, he needed to know what was going on. Especially when he had caught you quickly wiping away tears while you began to head home. What could possibly be causing you this pain?

•He had to find out and to his own realization, he had to know now. After all the times you saved and helped him, he wanted to make sure you were at least doing alright in return. He ordered Launchpad to tail you home and Launchpad, oh so very loyal, doesn’t question it much.

•Most yanderes might suffer from the constant delusion that their victims love them back or that they’re in the right but that’s not the case with Scrooge. There are times where he does try to justify himself, but this is mainly due to a fit of rage or to play innocent to you. Most of the time, he knows his actions are wrong and the burning temptation is causing a war. Very early on, he suppresses his curiosity and the growing feelings he has about you. Especially when they begin to boil into something far darker. Although he’s done this to nearly everyone, being cold to you and pushing you away seemed to be his way of trying to ensure your well being instead of his. He was finding it hard not to think about you sometimes.

•Soon enough though, he begins to grow inquisitive about your personal life as you open up to him and define yourself as a person instead of another blur. You were always quite genuine to just sit around and talk to him and despite denying it to himself, Scrooge was lonely, especially after the Spear of Selene. Sometimes you’d joke to him, sometimes you’d think philosophically. Sometimes it was just a mutual, comfortable silence.

•Scrooge might make excuses aloud to you, but doesn’t lie to himself. All the times he’s made you work later or given you an extra dose of paperwork was because he wanted to keep you around and in his line of sight. 12 hours without you was turning into a painful reminder of how isolated he was, even with Beakley around. You were a warmth, a cool, calm warmth.

• “I’ll eventually need to know her address later on in case she’s attacked by one of my adversaries anyways.” Nope, Scrooge wasn’t fooling himself with that sentiment. He knew he was invading your privacy, but he also knew that he was too nosy to care enough.

•The main problem is that although Scrooge knows a lot of what he’s doing isn’t right, he begins to care less and less. (Though this process takes quite a while.) You’re a valuable and positive part of his life, you had stayed when everyone else had abandoned him for his admittedly awful mistakes. He can’t lose another person he treasures. Especially not you. You’re becoming the shiniest yet. Losing you might mean losing himself in some sense.

•Scrooge tries to shake off the guilt but only finds that maybe it’s better to punish himself by feeling it. He’s currently following along your path to wherever your destination currently is.

•Of course, his iconic shiny limousine would be a sore thumb sticking out to both you, the media, and Duckberg in general so he makes sure to either trail far behind or to have another mode of transportation available. Regardless, Scrooge never hires another person to watch you in place.

•Scrooge doesn’t even install cameras. He’d rather experience your life from his own two eyes and not as reported from another bird or screen. He rather liked tracking you himself. It gave him a place to go and at least he’d be able to bask in your duality himself. Sometimes you cried, he found to his own breaking heart. Sometimes you’d smile, (mostly only in his presence, to his delight.)

•Most of all, though, you seem caught in the present of life. Distracted, even. It seems though, that sometimes you’re so distracted that you don’t even notice something is off. Or maybe you yourself are too unable to break the cycle of adrenaline adventure to see it. Maybe you yourself were actively creating excuses, at least at first as to why you sometimes ran into Scrooge McDuck everywhere.

•If there’s something else Scrooge is a master at other than money, it’s with keeping up the detached and reserved persona of a wealthy individual. After all, who would suspect him of such crimes like these? He’s just a selfish, greedy businessman that only cares about his wealth, right? He’d never bother with other birds unless he was shaking hands at a conference table.

•Wrong. As you and him grow to become more like mentor and student, Scrooge begins to insert himself everywhere he possible can in your life, especially after seeing the shitfest that was your social group, what little of it there was. Apparently, you’d finally made a few friends over the years working for him and there was only one out of all of them that Scrooge approved of.

•Two of them, both identical Peacock twins appeared to be fascinated with your link to him and nothing more. It made some sense. After all, who could say they were a close worker to the richest duck in the world? The other one, a tall and lanky chicken, was getting far too handsy with you, and the final, a feline male was nothing but gossip and drama.

•To add to insult, you were a pretty big pushover outside of work which meant that they would drag you to places you didn’t even want to go and pressure you to have drinks you didn’t want to taste. They were in love with the mask you put up, not the complex and amazing face behind it. The one that you were beginning to let Scrooge see.

• Scrooge watches from a distance as your laugh reverberates. The laugh appears to Scrooge as unwavered and solid, mechanical in nature like it was a reoccurring script. Gazing at your face, he could see that your smile was strained, beak scrunched. You just wanted to go home and nothing more.

•The chicken next to you he was sucking a cigarette and the smoke blew in your direction, replacing your laugh with coughing and the others cackled with drunk glee, their solo cups tipping as they did. You blew it off as an accidental push in the wind which, by the way, wasn’t even blowing.

•Out of all of them, Scrooge hated the lanky chicken, who’s name he learned was Gale, the most. You deserved far better than that. Surely you saw through his sleazy act, right? Why were you hanging around such a ratched group of birds? Just how blind were you to their usage of you?

•Almost without even realizing it himself, Scrooge had tailed you the entire way home. After having to torment himself with an hour of seeing you torment yourself, he figured that maybe you’d find something that made you happy other thanyour little flock of “friends.”

•So he was admitting to being a stalker to himself. Did that mean he’d be able to admit it to oblivious ol’ you? Well, no. At least, not for now. Not until you trust him completely. Oh well, he’ll never go further than then that, right? He was watching you, but not engaging in any way. Nothing worse could come out of it..

•Wrong.

•After a while of having you working under him at McDuck Industries, Scrooge began to realize just how much financial control he had over you. Not only did you depend on him cod for paycheck, your landlord worked for someone who worked for him. In other words, the spot of land you were living on was an apartment company that belonged to him. You were living under one of his roofs. All he’d have to do was shift some circumstances and you’d either be homeless or debt free forever. Scrooge of course, plays the benevolent route and lowers it significantly for you. Why antagonize you?

•After having taken that action, Scrooge noticed more and more of a smile on your face as you realized that you didn’t have to depend paycheck to paycheck for food on the table. He had also been aware that you had a side hobby now, involving (F/H.) sometimes you joked you’d start a business and go off parting ways with that hobby. It was source of entertainment to watch you be..Well, you. There was this genuine behavior about you that just drew him in.

•If Scrooge wasn’t adventuring with you or at a meeting also with you, he was still with you. You just didn’t know it yet. Interestingly however, you’d begun to pick up the signs that there was a presence in your life. Whereas you didn’t close the blinds before, you did now. Or maybe that was from all the adventures you’d nearly died on fighting others off. Maybe it was paranoia.

•Eventually, Scrooge managed to break into your apartment under the guise to Launchpad that he’d been invited by you. A ludicrous lie, of course, but Launchpad is gullible to a fault when it comes to Scrooge. He’s loyal like that, and his friendliness to you plays into Scrooge’s emotional manipulation later on.

•As Scrooge sneaks in while you’re still home, he makes his way behind the kitchen counter which seperated your living room. He didn’t expect you to be right there in the living room, but you were, just five feet away from him and the window he snuck in. The window was to your right. He had carefully parted the curtains. Your couch was sitting approximately five feet from the window balcony, facing a corner of the wall with the T.V off.

•Peculiarly, you hadn’t even noticed he’d entered by rigging the door. You were right there, not staring at his direction, but he should have at least appeared in your peripheral. Just what were you doing to be so disconnected to the reality around you? It was worrying.

•Now hidden behind the counter directly to the left of you, he observes your desensitized form. For a moment, Scrooge thought you were a corpse until he peered closer. You were still there, physically. Mentally you looked as if you were in a whole other dimension. In a rather bold move, Scrooge slowly stands up and positions himself in the archway, watching you from his spot.

•You were still, so very still unlike all the times you’d fidget at work or with those “friends.” You still breathed and your hands shook slightly and there was color to your eyes but you yourself didn’t even seem present whatsoever. Your eyes were glazed and far away. It was just your body sitting there in that couch. It was worrisome and yet there was a blissful smile to your face seconds later.

•It was you, daydreaming about something. Something you obviously enjoyed. Scrooge, to his own shame, hoped it involved him. For a few more moments, all you did was sigh like you were meditating. It was haunting how easily you had lost yourself within the confines of your tumbling mind. Somehow, you were blocking out the world beyond, maladaptively.

• Scrooge knew he was taking a huge risk. All you’d have to do to spot him now was swivel your head a few inches or wake up from dreamland. It would take a few inches to ruin what you thought of him.

Just then, to Scrooge’s horror, you had slowly picked yourself off the couch. Your body shuttered as your head snapped up. He knew he was taking a huge risk with this and began to think that maybe it was a terrible idea after all. (Who was he kidding, it was terrible in the first place, he knew what he was doing.)

•He quickly fell back to his crouched position behind the counter, silently and expertly as you turned around and made your way closer and closer. There was a tense moment in which Scrooge contemplated just knocking you down completely and rendering you unconscious. All it would take was a few seconds. Maybe you’d forget or maybe he’d give you the dreamland you seemed so desperate to reach. It would certainly give him peace of mind to know where you are 24/7..All he’d have to do is knock you out and take you to the manor. You’d be secure and have everything you need there…

•Your presence was setting him alight, in the good way and bad way. He loved being near you. But hated the idea of you getting any closer right now, because you getting any closer would ruin your trust in him entirely. A few more steps is all there was between the idol you saw Scrooge as and the monster he was growing to be. You were like a fire. The heat scorched his feathers. Then, when you were away, his thoughts.

•Your steps were louder than they’d ever been. Then, to Scrooge’s unbelievable luck, you turned towards the hallway away from the kitchen. Scrooge knew not to push his luck trying to follow or stay, so despite his clawing urge to figure you out, he hesitantly snuck out with unanswered questions on your concerning mental state.

•It had been a months since that incident and Scrooge was moving onto bigger and bolder actions. Sometimes he’d swipe you away from any conversations you had with your friends by calling you in for a task. Sometimes he’d eat up all your time by keeping you in late, and taking you to places far away that required days of travel.

•Sometimes he’d drive bad influences away by financially ruining their life forever.

You noticed Gale’s downfall quickly, but you didn’t have any idea it was Scrooge who was responsible. Gale lived actually, three complexes from you and oh so suddenly, rent had begun to skyrocket in the particular room he had to himself. This led to him being presented with an eviction notice. You didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. (Not that you wanted to, though.) deep down you were glad he was gone and Scrooge knew it. Gale had to move far off to find an affordable spot. It was a mercy considering how often Scrooge had dreamed of just throwing him into the ocean tied up for the sharks to find. He was a toxic influence.

•Maybe if someone pushed his button just right, Scrooge would end up killing them, and who would care? There were seven billion fellow people on the planet. Scrooge could just get rid of any threat he wanted and no one would notice or ever suspect it was him. After all, he’s just a grumpy old man with a cane.

•It turns out, Scrooge had picked up on your plans to possibly quit your job. He had never felt his heart sink like it did now. He was fighting off his initial shock as you stood in his office, masking it with a detached face. You hadn’t even confirmed the statement. All you’d said was that maybe you’d found a company within your favorite hobby.

•It was just a small implication. But, Implications could become statements, which could turn into actions, and Scrooge couldn’t let the thought even be a presence in your mind.

•You had stayed with him throughout the years of his loneliest moments, had confessed secrets, had confided in him. You were like his pupil, learning from him and you were like his partner, fighting alongside him. Maybe you were something different altogether.

•...Was it a friend that convinced you? It had to be. Scrooge knew how much you enjoyed galavanting around the world with him. There’s no way you’d just fly off without him.-

“I promise I’ll still occasionally go with you, Scrooge. (A first name basis. This was devolving from anything normal.) I found my passion. We can still adventure together, but I found a path that also makes me happy and doesn’t ya know, get me killed.” You chuckle as if it were nothing. A light joke.

•So you were leaving. You were going to go. Why? You had a great paycheck, (an expensive one that took a lot of money,) you had the opportunity to travel the world. You had the best job you’d ever get. Who else was going to be as good as him? He won’t let you destroy your future by applying for a Mediocre position at some dumptruck company.

•As it turns out, the bird responsible for swaying you was none other than one of the peacocks, her name was Shelby. She and you laughed, and for the first time, your laugh was genuine. Genuine with her and not with Scrooge. You both shared each other’s stories, and she in return had encouraged your little dangerous fantasy of being independent.

•Now of course Scrooge realized how ridiculous this all sounded. He had willingly allowed you to go on perilous adventures with him, but at least then, you were with him. How could he keep an easy eye on you if you just moved off to some rando spot? Plus, he was plenty good as saving you. He was your hero.

•Bad influences needed to go away.

•Scrooge might lie to himself about how much it digs under his feathers, but to see you around other people really dug wrong. He itched every time you decided to take advice from other people, or confide in them instead of him. He was the one you could go to, not them. Your secrets didn’t need to be shared with anyone else but Scrooge. All those rare and precious things that made you yourself didn’t need to be snatched by thieves like Shelby or Gale or whoever else.

•He knew that his criminal actions would scare you. Even with your growing trust and dependence on him, he knew it was too early for you to want to stay with him if you knew what he’s been doing. If he wanted your presence, he’d keep it through lengths you’d find terrifying.

•Scrooge found your biggest flaw was that you always attracted the wrong crowd, and it was primarily because you were always trying to impress others when they really didn’t deserve the magnificent canvas you painted yourself to be. To his even greater detriment, you were beginning to spend your time more and more with Shelby. The canvas you painted was beautiful, as always. But it wasn’t for him, and he found that he was not happy with this new development.

•Don’t you know people take advantage of kindness? It happened to him all the time and still does. It happened to you over and over and yet you kept venturing forth giving out your trust like it was nothing. The world is a sour place if you’re not careful. Cursed kilts, you were already naive about Gale. Who knows how badly future people would hurt you, even if they were well intentioned.

Scrooge could tell that, despite him insisting otherwise, you thought leaning on his shoulder was burdening him. He wanted to make sure you knew it was anything but that. As a matter of fact, he wanted you to lean on his shoulder every moment he possibly could get you to. What was just you occasionally asking for advice on impersonal things becomes entire sessions with Scrooge encouraging you to reveal every personal detail of your life.

•You had revealed that many times, you just wanted independence. A company of your own to possibly build so you could pursue life your own way. Scrooge knew these dangerous thoughts were one of the final roadblocks. Scrooge had to prevent them. Be it through roughening you up financially or discouraging you. Be it from murdering outside influences, too. Who was going to miss the miserable miscreants that plagued your life anyways?

•It is three days before the date you had decided that you would resign. Instead of being merry, you were miserable. The opportunity you had to get the job was burned by them not even calling you for an interview. After your resume, why would they reject you? You had the word of one of the finest businessmen out there to back you up. Scrooge himself promised to put in a good word for you! You were perfectly qualified for the job you were looking for. In your days of being rejected from the position you wanted, you confide in Scrooge. You don’t know it but as he pats your shoulder, he’s thinking of the next way to sabotage your efforts of leaving him.

•Shelby ends up going missing. She was one of your closest friends and the only one who finally treated you well. Your devastation causes a major setback in any ambitious plans as you isolate yourself from anyone else but only the closest person left in your life; Scrooge.

•Currently, you were enveloped in a warm hug, the side of your face leaning in the crook of Scrooge’s neck as he calmed your crying form down, patting your back and promising you his presence would remain forever. You wept at Shelby’s funeral, so did her twin sister and their parents, who, upon seeing Scrooge, had nearly fainted in shock.

•Despite your tumultuous relationship with Shelby, she had actually begun to redeem much of her previously antagonistic actions towards you. She was in a rough place when you had developed a connection with her. So you wept in your boss’s, or rather, your best confidantes arms. You wept.

Scrooge, however, did not.

#yandere #obsession #yandere ducktales #scrooge mcduck #headcanons #yandere x reader #reader insert #platonic or romantic #ducktales #cartoon #yandere Scrooge McDuck #minors do not interact #murder #this is weird I know #dt 2017 #ducktales 2017

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