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#the more i fight my grief the worse it gets
babyfairy · 2 months
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it takes about 5 seconds of thinking about my personal life before i start to cry now i think that’s really cool and good. fun too
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par-slayyy · 1 year
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Burning hill but it's my relationship to my passions and burn out
#mitski#i love taking 'you' and 'him' in mitski songs as personified versions of concepts and experiences in her life#happy is personification of joy#burning hill (as i interpreted) is about her passion for music and also disassociation (im watching myself burn but i cant stop or step in)#remember my name is lonliness despite bearing your soul and the discrepancy btwn being a celebrity and a human#pearl diver is reaching within to find a 'pearl.' for something more. but in doing so youre straining and hurting yourself for it#shouldve been me (to me) is masking and realizing you gave people a version of you but they want to see the real you#afraid to be truly vulnerable without an ironic front is a challenge and the regret that comes from it#i think it's interesting she mainly ever addreses 'you' 'him' and 'me' and to have that third person be a man in a relationship with her#fireworks is literally depression when youre at the lowest point but youre still feeling everything. so youre hoping things will either get#magically better or they become worse and you finally dont have to feel anymore#but also once youre there; theres a desire to *feel* something. youre in so much pain you cant cry anymore but it's getting too much#cry cry cry almost as a plea; begging yourself#francis forever is about her music and desire to be seen/validated by fans/industry but needs to prove herself by constantly creating#a lot of her music is about her music and self destructive tendencies she has with it#giving her all. feeling isolated and lonely. not being enough. fighting with herself. list and horniness. loving herself. feeling at the top#the loss of control over your life and feeling aimless despite needing to continue#the idea of being used to fulfill your sense of purpose. to have a reason to do something#it's a wide range of emotions of grief and relief. a sour orange you cant stop sucking on#laurel hell really summarizes the whole journey tbh#im still wondering who/what her 'husband' is
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mymyapplesigh · 2 months
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I Was All Over Her
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Summary: Losing to a monster, you disappear from your world and wake up in Clarisses arms. However, this isnt your Clarisse.
Warning: You die but not really, Kissing, Being transported to another reality, Dior taking over your hoodie off in a nonsmutty way
Pairing: Dior Goodjohn x fem!reader, Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader
IN THIS FIC IT TAKES LONGER FOR U TO DIE OK !!!
You cant stop running. If you stopped it would get you. The big ass minotaur would stop at nothing to get you. You however only had one thought in your head; ‘where the fuck was clarisse’
Everything started running through your head. The years you spent at camp, the friends you made, your father, meeting your mother Athena for the first time, and most importantly Clarisse.
She wasnt here this time, she always protected you. Why wasnt she here? She loved you. Right?
Trying not to cry again you came up with an idea. If you screamed shed hear you. Shed come get you.
With the amount of breath you had, you let out an ear piercing scream. You knew she could hear that. Hearing the beast behind you grunt and moan from the high pitched sound you used that as an opportunity to run even faster.
Your feet were getting tired, your vision was getting blurry, you were running out of oxygen fast. Then you saw it. You saw her.
Coming out behind a tree she had her fathers spear. You knew she would come for you.
Too overjoyed, you didnt see the tree root. Your foot getting caught under it. Your front hitting the moist and soggy dirt of the forest. You quickly turned on your back and you saw the end. You shouldve never went on this dumbass quest.
The minotaur lifted its head and brung it right down into your chest. Feeling the pierce of the horn into your heart you heard her.
The scream she let out was even worse than the one she let out when Percy Jackson broke her fathers spear. This scream was filled with lost.
Being there a second longer you saw her stab the minotaur and watched it disappear.
She brung her scabbed hand under your head and the other one on your chest that now had a hole in it. Her scabbed hands that held so many memories. Memories of fights, protection, love, and grief.
Her brown eyes that filled with love for only you, now filled with an ocean deep sadness. Tears poured out of her eyes and onto your cheeks.
“No y/n I need you to stay awake please stop closing your eyes.” She begged even though she knew it was helpless.
Feeling yourself slip away she held on tighter. Until it was all dark.
It didnt stay dark for long. You opened your eyes again. Feeling that you were holding someones body your eyes shot even more open. You couldnt tell who it was you were holding because they had a hood over the top part of their face and the lights were out except for the faint glow of a tv.
You realised you were laying on them. Well, not ‘them’, more like ‘her’ because you realized your head was laying on their breasts.
She stirred and then went to pull back her hood. She gently smiled at you and put her hands under your armpits with her thumbs applying a bit more pressure on the side of your breasts.
She then leaned forward to apply a passionate kiss on your chapped lips. Then starting to freak out because a stranger had just kissed you. Thrashing in her arms, worry started to spread over her tanned face.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” She cooed at you. “Your okay, your okay. Whats wrong baby, whats wrong?” She wasnt just any stranger, she had your lovers voice.
She then reached towards her bedside table and turned on her lamp. When the lamp flicked on you realized who this ‘stranger’ was. It was Clarisse. Your Clarisse.
“Oh my god. Clarisse? I thought I lost you.” You said sobbing into her warm smelling neck.
She giggled at what you said pulling your face gently out of her neck so she can look at you.
“Clarisse? Baby, why are you calling me Clarisse. You do realize thats only a character I play right?” She replied to you.
You looked at her like she was crazy. Searching her eyes hoping to find that she was only joking behind her brown eyes but all you saw in them was concern and tiredness.
“I-I’m confused.” I said as my breathing started to pick up.
“You must be overheated, I knew I shouldnt have let you sleep in one of my hoodies again. You know they make you too overheated.” She said to you with genuine concern.
She then reached for the hoodie that was on you and pulled it over your head only leaving you in a bra.
“I need to take it more easy on you, huh? You got hickies all over you.” She said to you with a teasing tone.
You were confused, bare, and scared. This wasnt your Clarisse and this isnt your reality.
PLS YALL NEED TO START REQUESTING FICS PLSPSLPSLSOSLSOSLSPSLSPSL
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xspeter · 5 days
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LOML
luke castellan x fem!reader
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angst, angst, angst. mini blurb to help me get my flow back :) based off of LOML by Taylor Swift.
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Percy Jackson isn’t sure what’s worse. Luke’s betrayal, or the look on your face when you find out. He’s sure he’ll get nightmares about it.
You’d had a wide smile on your face, the woven flower crown in your hair hinting that you’d just been out at the flower fields with your siblings.
You’d been called to help patch up Percy after what you had been told was a fight, but the somber energy in the room immediately told you something was off. It was too suspicious to have Chiron, Mr. D, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all in the room for what was supposed to simply be slapping on a band-aid.
The smile on your face fell, and was instead replaced with a subtle frown. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing everyone in the room.
Percy swallowed and hesitantly glanced to Annabeth, who already had the remnants of tears in her eyes. And if the glossiness told him anything, it was that she was about to burst out crying again. Not that he could blame her.
He watched your frown grow as recognition flashed across your face. You and Luke always had been so in tune to each others emotions, he’s honestly surprised you didn’t notice the lack of his presence earlier.
“Y/N-” Chiron started, but you interrupted him. “Where’s Luke?”
Silence.
Percy didn’t believe in soulmates. It’s weird, because after finding out about greek gods and mythological beings being real, you’d think soulmates wouldn’t be that far off the table. But, they were.
But you and Luke had something Percy could tell was special. It wasn’t just a relationship - it was like a sacred bond bestowed upon the two of you by the gods themselves. Wherever Luke was, you’d be sure to follow, and vice versa. Fuck, you’d practically finish each other’s sentences as corny as that sounded.
That’s why he was so confused Luke would throw it all away so easily.
“Y/N…” Mr. D started, and Percy was sure it was the most emotion he’d ever even seen from him. You immediately began shaking your head, hands trembling as you stared at the ground. “Where is he?” You questioned again.
More silence followed, and Percy knew no one wanted to answer you, and he could understand why. Still, he took a breath and forced himself to look up at you. “He’s gone.”
It was like the five stages of grief flashed in your eyes simultaneously - merging together but still so distinguishable.
“No, he’s not.” You whimpered, “He’s in his cabin. I just saw him barely an hour ago-”
“He tried to kill Percy,” Annabeth finally breathed out. “He wants to overthrow the gods.”
You shook your head, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as you ran a trembling hand through your hair, moving up the white flower crown until it was lopsided on your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said through gritted teeth, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know him. I know him. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been- been a shapeshifter or something. I mean, with all the other monsters out there there has to be a shapeshifter right? Yeah. That’s all it was. It wasn’t Luke.”
Percy squeezed the table in front of him until his knuckles were white, doing his best to choke down his tears. It was a tempting idea, one that he’d have no problem believing if it hadn’t been for the look in Luke’s eyes. No monster could recreate that kind of rage.
“It was him,” Percy spoke up, “I know it was.”
“You don’t know anything!” You yelled, eyes wild and skin paling, “You don’t know Luke like I do! He wouldn’t do this! Sure, he gets mad at the gods sometimes, but don’t we all? It doesn’t mean we’re gonna up and start a whole rebellion!”
Grover attempted to reach out to you, tears forming in his dark eyes, “I know it’s hard-” He attempted, but you practically jumped away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You growled lowly, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Grover didn’t argue.
Everyone in the room stared at you in pity, and it made you sick. You’d show them. Luke was in his cabin right now, probably trying to sleep or playing with one of the younger campers. Because that’s what Luke does - that’s the Luke you know.
You were the love of his life. He’d told you just two days ago during a secret picnic on the beach way past your curfew. You’d choked up, but told him the same through your tears. Luke had kissed you so hard you swore you were seeing stars, and you remember thinking this kiss had felt different than all the others. Almost desperate, like he was trying to grasp onto something he knew he was losing.
No.
Luke was in his cabin.
You’d left the Big House without even a grunt, practically sprinting across camp to the Hermes cabin. You didn’t care about the weird looks the stragglers were giving you, didn’t care about the soft ache in your legs. You needed to see Luke. Needed to feel him. Needed to intertwine your souls again.
You were panting by the time you reached it, throwing the doors open and looking around wildly. “Luke?” You called, voice breaking a bit as you did.
“Y/N?” someone said, you didn’t know their name. Or maybe you did. You honestly couldn’t remember right now, the only thing running through your mind was Luke.
“Have you seen Luke?” You asked.
The camper shook her head, blonder hair falling in front of her face as she did. “Hey, are you okay-”
You were gone before she could even finish her sentence. You spent hours searching for him, like he was a pair of house keys you’d lost and desperately needed in order to go home.
The moon was high into the sky by the time you stop, your vision blurry with tears and muscles burning. You’d even prayed to your father at some point - which was something you rarely ever did.
You fall to your knees in the grass, hand clutching at the golden bracelet on your wrist. Like had given it to you two nights ago on the beach, embroided in it were the letters “LOML.”
He’dtold you it was because you were the love of his life, but right now in this moment, with your chest puffing and knees weak, you think it may stand for something else.
Because while you may be the love of Luke Castellan’s life, he was the loss of yours.
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mcfuckity · 10 months
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You know what? Im breaking my silence. Im TIRED of people missing Jess’ character on purpose. Like, everyone can use context clues and fill in the blanks for every other character but somehow Jess is the only one taken at face value? Jess is being seen as a cold, detached, mean bitch by fans but I cannot determine whether we even watched the same movie.
Let’s address the elephant in the room, because she is a black woman who is NOT a mammy character, people criticize her harsher. Jess was MORE than Miguel’s “lackey”. She had her own thoughts and opinions. She definitely had her own personality and feelings about the entire situation. She lowkey stalled time to give Gwen chances to fix her mistakes.
If Jess was as cold as Miguel and such a “bitch”, she would’ve left Gwen the first time. Let’s not forget that Miguel was fully about to leave Gwen with her own father holding her at gunpoint, JESS vouched to bring Gwen under her name. Jess put her OWN position at risk to help Gwen and it required that she do her job accordingly. Jess made the boundary VERY clear, she is NOT Gwen’s mother. She is NOT her friend. I seen people argue that “Jess’ maternal instincts” should’ve kicked in to protect Gwen” but fully ignoring that Jess HAS A FAMILY! Jess is PREGNANT with her OWN child. Her instincts DID kick in and she chose her dimension with her family in it!
Jess was stuck in a rock and a hard place. She obviously wanted to help Gwen (considering she brought her in at the cost of her own position) but UNFORTUNATELY, GWEN messed up. Gwen saw Miles and that ultimately led to Spot escaping. You can love these characters and acknowledge that every character had their OWN thoughts and motivations that led to fuck ups. It’s not right to try to make Jess sound worse than the man who fuckin replaced his dead self out of grief, was about to leave a teen at gunpoint, and had an entire society of people chase a teenager who wanted to save his dad.
Don’t get me started on the “she’s fighting crime while pregnant argument” because we can accept superpowered people but NOT the possibility that their bodies are more resilient. NOT TO MENTION THAT PETER B HAS A WHOLE BABY ON MISSIONS???? Like, no one is calling him a bad father so what’s different with Jess? Miguel was mean as fuck to Miles upon meeting but Jess doing her JOB is considered being “mean”.
Then the “I didn’t see her enough to connect with her” is fair until everyone can somehow create entire {TERRIBLE} mischaracterizations of Hobie, Pav, and Peni who (arguably) had just about the same amount of screentime. She also shares traits with every other spider person with being snarky and quick-witted while being completely grounded. She’s literally one of the spider people that Miguel fully trusts but somehow the fandom erases her and goes “He loves Peter B and Lego Spidey🤪🤪”
Like, it’s crazy how people find it so easy to erase Jess and Margo (Spiderbyte) in fanworks for things they easily dismiss from other characters and it’s feelin like misogynoir. Like, Margo and Hobie served the same purpose with deciding to go against Miguel for Miles, yet only Hobie and Gwen gets that credit.
AND THEN THE MANY EXCUSES WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING! People keep hating on Jess/Miguel because she’s “obviously pregnant and married” but go right around and ship Miguel with Peter B. Same with Margo/Miles because it’s a bunch of “Miles and Gwen are obviously endgame” ANDDDD???? Since when did every ship HAVE TO be canon in order to be a ship? It’s especially crazy because I BARELY EVER see those comments on Miles/(Peni, Pav, or Hobie) or have no problem with having all the boys huddled around Gwen. The double standard is glaringly obvious.
In conclusion, some of you mfs dont deserve ATSV.
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furiousgoldfish · 1 year
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One of the issues you run into when you're not allowed to express anger as a child, is that you're no longer able to get angry. When you're in a situation that should evoke rage, you instead feel fear, anxiety, panic, or grief, emotional hurt and helplessness. You end up operating a body that cannot feel or express anger. The only times you do feel angry is when you're directing it at yourself, it comes as a form of self hatred, and desire to cause pain and injury to yourself. Because this is the only way you would have been allowed to be angry, only way it was safe, to direct it at yourself, same as everyone else is doing constantly, teaching you that it's normal and expected.
Growing up like this means that all of the anger from your childhood keeps getting stored into your body instead of externalized, and you still cannot get angry when the situation demands it. Instead, when you're being disrespected and injustice is served in your face, you can either feel helpless and lost, or the frustration you feel irritates you so much you cannot stand it. Your body is not used to feeling anger and doesn't know how to process it. Instead it feels like you're going to explode, restless, endlessly irritated and at a complete loss on how to handle it. Because you never learned how to handle anger, except to take it out on yourself, and you might be driven to just keep doing that, forever.
Taking a stand for yourself and confronting whoever deserved your anger might still feel terrifying and all of the insane things that happened to you as a result of childhood anger might get triggered. You might feel too frightened to confront them because you can imagine all sorts of ways it could come back to hurt you - this person could try to get you fired, for example. They might smear campaign you and get you evicted, they could threaten you with something or blackmail you, they could destroy something of yours, spread rumors, hold a grudge and do thousand times worse to you. Those are thoughts evoked by memories of childhood, where abusive parents threatened and did any or all of these things, including torture, in order to keep you from expressing anger.
However this person is hurting you right now, unprovoked, and getting no resistance. From that, they're learning that they can keep doing it, with zero consequences, because you've already been broken and cannot fight back. That is a dangerous situation to be in too, even if it is impossible to predict whether this person is insane like your parents and will try to get revenge for any bit of resistance for their abuse.
I had situations where I would be pushed over the edge and allowed my anger to come out at someone - and people would sometimes complain about it, but they would usually back off, and I would regain my peace of mind because I created a consequence for disturbing it. Anger, however, doesn't feel good. My body is not used to it so it makes me incredibly tense, stressed, frustrated and upset, and it doesn't go away for several days, even weeks sometimes. Because scratching the surface of it evokes the repressed childhood anger which is almost unbearable with how giant it is.
Human body can learn to process anger, it can feel better, more powerful and more in control because of it. It can protect you without inflicting damage to others. It doesn't make you anything like your abusers, who let their anger out at someone who wasn't their equal, had no way to fight back, and did not deserve any of it. Your anger creates boundaries that keep you safe, it doesn't exist to torture others for existing.
It's easy to fall back into the place where you don't want to be angry, and try to be accommodating and allowing of injustice, just so you don't have to feel frustrated and afraid. I often fall back on it too, just wanting to live and have peace. But life around other people often doesn't allow it, and sometimes anger is necessary to send a message of what boundaries will not be crossed without a consequence. Anger is not a bad feeling, it is an act of self love. It comes out to let you know that you've been treated unfairly and it's there because it's telling you that you matter. That treating you unfairly is something to get mad about.
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bettyfrommars · 4 months
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
Eddie x fem!Reader
MASTERLIST PLAYLIST
It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.
my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.
A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
word count: 6.3k
The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat.  From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain.  The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache. 
You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of  your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play.  You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs.  You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.
You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again.  Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.  
Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open.  It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.
You pulled your headphones down around your neck.  “Sorry?”
“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life.  “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”
You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people.  You were the walking wounded.
“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.  
It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright.  Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate. 
You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town.  Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.
“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees.  A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing.  “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”
You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled.  You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck.  He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.  
You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.
Besides reading.  And taking long walks with music to clear your head.  Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.
From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous.  Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants.  A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water.  Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet. 
Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.
There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside.  The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books.  Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint.  He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.  
After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right.  You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.  
The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.  
Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes.  It sat there close to the curb, idling.  You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile.  Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket.  Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.  
Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it.  They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.
“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk.  A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.  
The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand.  “Hey Joyce, I was just—”
Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm.  She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family.  While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.
“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”
“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”
Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”
Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.   
Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell.  The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month. 
“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can.  They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational.  She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.  
“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.  
They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits.  There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.  
Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.
The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.  
You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot.  Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.  
The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.
“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself.  “You okay?”
Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”
She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit.  “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”
“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.  
When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.
“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”
“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”
Robin winked.  “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.  
Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.
“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”
“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”
By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.  
“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room.  “I’m going to look around the main house.”
Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen.  “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”
You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.
With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts.  You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest.  Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling.  Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.
Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building.  It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel. 
You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.
They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other,  so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.  
One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.  
“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face.  “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”
You realized that it was your dad he was talking about. 
Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree.  Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot.  Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.
“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said.  “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”
But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.
The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.
Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl.  You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.  
Was that his girlfriend?
He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him.  “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually.  You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one.  “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve.  They’re the other musicians I told you about.”
Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear.  He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.  
“Hey, there the fuck you are.  I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”
Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building.  You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.
Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way.  The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed.  While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.
“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”
“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit.  “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”
Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself.  His name was Eddie.  
Jason put his hands up in mock surrender.  “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour.  There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”
You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.
So that you could see Eddie’s face. 
Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe.  “I gotta run.  See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets.  He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way.  Jason shot him an evil look.
“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.
“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.
The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.  
When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along. 
Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.  
“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face. 
Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks.  Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.
When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again.  With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog. 
You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
—----
Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation.  There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party.  She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier.  The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.  
Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.  
“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.  
Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.  
“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.  
Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true.  But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.  
“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink.  “This place will all be mine one day.”
Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.  
“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.  
If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table. 
Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours.  “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”
Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.
“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it. 
In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.  
An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.
—-------
Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself.  He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.   
You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.  
You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest.  He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.  
You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him.  You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.  
You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare. 
On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property. 
Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.
And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.
"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music.  It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.  
"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it.  His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.
Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests.  Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing.  The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there. 
At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another.  While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.
Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.
There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.
Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.
The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.
“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”
You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.  
“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”
The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier.  He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.
“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.
The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage. 
I get so lost, sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When I want to run away
I drive off in my car
But whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot.  You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.  
He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.
They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.  
He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.  
All my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.
Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention.  “Did you hear anything I just said?”
You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie.  Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.
"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."
In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.
"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."
Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.
“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”
—--
It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.
“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”
The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most. 
In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter.  You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.
It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished.  Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.  
As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point
And that made you want to venture in even more.
You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going.  The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.  
You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence. 
Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.  
(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)
It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead.  Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.  
“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”
Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.  
She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.
“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.
“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.
She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground.  You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.
“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.
“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed.  “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”
Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted.  “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees.  “What is that place?”
“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”
Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped.  But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”
Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”
You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.
She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms. 
“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”
----
Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.
Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.
as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️
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taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082
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velvetm00light · 6 months
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Damsel
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gif: pinterest banner: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism
Chapter One of Save Me
Word count: 4.6k
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: You've managed to keep your feelings for your coworker, the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid, completely in the back of your mind. But, when an unsub attacks close to home, you quickly realize you're on your way to becoming a victim. As you fight the panic coursing inside you, you are also left fighting the emotions that arise when Spencer tries to comfort and protect you.
Warnings: Mentions sexual assault, murder, serial killer, domxsub, degradation, torture, stalking. In future parts, will mention vivid torture, PinV, oral, domxsub situations, grief, bondage, physical harm, kidnapping, etc.
A/N: My first attempt at Tumblr and writing on here! This one is going to be a bit of a dark one so read at your own risk. I'm mostly writing for fun but this one will have at least a few parts to it. :)
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Your knees begin to ache as you continue to kneel on the hardwood floor in your bedroom. Strong, nimble hands grip your head, lacing fingers into your hair and yank it backwards. A silk blindfold covers your eyes, heightening the rest of your senes. You feel his hot breath mere inches away from your mouth as he speaks to you in a growl.
"Look at you, on your knees, begging for me like a slut." You let out a small whimper at this, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to get any kind of friction between your legs. All you need is to release this pent up heat at your core, but he is hell bent on taking his sweet time with you.
"Beg." You flinch at the demand in his voice but you do as you're commanded. "Please, Sir...I need it so bad," you cry out. Your wrists struggle in the cold handcuffs that keep your hands bound together behind your back. You just want to touch him so badly, want him to touch you so badly.
He hums and loosens his grip on your hair. You're roughly lifted up from your arm and thrown on the bed. "On your back."
You quickly do as your told, unable to waste another moment wanting instead of getting. "Are you ready to take me like the good girl you are?" You groan your approval, bucking your hips greedily. towards him.
His hands gently reach behind your head to let the blindfold loose. You blink rapidly, your eyes straining to adjust to the bedroom light. You can feel his cock rubbing against your folds slowly.
Once your eyes adjust, you spot unruly, brown curls and a smirking face hovering over you. "Spencer, please.." you beg right before he-
Your phone is ringing ceaselessly on your nightstand as it breaks you out of your sleep. You sit up rapidly, dazed and confused after the intensity of your dream...your dream about your coworker. You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands and let out a sigh. You'll dive into the analysis of your dream eventually, just not right now or maybe you'll just try to forget about it and never think of it again.
You grab your phone and answer it without bothering to check who was calling in the first place. Ever since you began working for the BAU 2 years ago, the only friends you had, had the same demanding job as you. No matter what day or time your phone rang, 9 times out of 10, it was going to be work.
"Hello?" you answer sleepily.
"You sound worse than I did when Hotch called me," Penelope giggles on the other end. "I didn't bother trying to text you first because I knew I wouldn't get a response for approximately 3 business days and then I'd have to probably send a whole wellness check to your house to make sure-"
"I'm assuming we have a case?" You can't help but chuckle at Penelope's ramble.
"Yes, but prepare yourself for this one." Penelope's tone wakes you up more than your coffee normally does. Despite being at the BAU longer than you have, after just about every case you've brought Penelope a bottle of wine, some kind of home-baked sweet and sat on her couch the rest of the day or night in slippers and face masks.
At first, just about everything made you jumpy and queasy but now, there's not much you haven't seen. You've done a decent job at separating your personal and professional emotions - for the most part.
"Thanks for the heads-up, Pen. I'm sure I'll be okay." I reassure her, questioning what kind of case we could possibly have that would rattle me more than abducted children, kidnapped and beaten women, and just about every other sadistic thing you can think of.
You say your goodbyes to Penelope and prepare to head to the office.
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You take your seat around the round table, JJ to your left and Morgan to your right, the 3 of you the only ones there so far. You lean towards JJ and lower your voice into a whisper.
"Have you heard anything about this case yet?" You ask.
"I'm pretty sure it's just some murders here in Quantico." She replies, her brows knitting together. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm not sure, I just...Pen called me this morning and told me to prepare. Did she say the same to you?"
"No, she didn't." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and sit back in your seat. Your mind began chasing itself in circles, making up different scenarios on why you would have to be the one to prepare.
Spencer is the next to come, taking a seat across from you. He gives you a friendly smile and he immediately jumps into conversation, asking you guys what you did this weekend and if you were interrupted when you got called. The memory of the dream you were interrupted from plays back in your mind and you feel the heat rising up your neck.
You play it safe and try to kill your heat with humor, per usual. "I was actually in the middle of a very great date with sleep," you groaned.
Morgan laughs next to you in that charming way of his that drives just about every human, no matter what's between their legs, crazy. "Me and Savannah finally got time together because she had a day off from the hospital. We had some dinner, a little wine, we got into bed and boom, phone rang."
We all laugh at Morgan's bad luck and JJ tells a similar story about her and Will, "We had just gotten the kids down too."
Suddenly, Hotch and Rossi enter the room, Garcia trailing behind with her computer in hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting everyone, you can begin, Garcia."
She gives a curt nod and wastes no time jumping into her spiel, providing pictures as always.
"Unfortunately, in our little home of Quantico, 4 bodies of young women have been found bound, brutally tortured, with evidence of..sexual assault." As she continues to add more pictures to the screen, you begin to realize something. You weren't the only one to realize it though when Emily blurts, "Well he's got a type, that's for sure."
"Yup, all women have the same hair color, eye color, even height." Garcia continues.
"You know, these women look kind of familiar..." Rossi begins, and as he begins to put the pieces together as you do, wide eyes begin to fall onto you.
"How tall are you, (y/n)?" Spencer asks matter-of-factly, as if he refuses to believe it's not just some extremely odd coincidence.
"5 foot 4." You reply, wringing your hands in your lap. The gazes of all your team members burn holes into you and you fight against the urge to sink into your chair.
"And each of these women were 5 foot 4?" Morgan asks, setting his gaze on the case file instead of you. "Yes, they were." Garcia confirms.
A nervous chuckle escapes your throat, "I mean, that's a coincidence, right?" No one immediately answers you which does nothing to help you feel any better.
"Until we know for sure, we need to be careful." Hotchner stated bluntly. "We know that with these kinds of unsubs their primary target is normally their worst, and their last."
You know he is right, but it seems almost ridiculous. You barely leave the house except to go to work, go to Penelope's, or get groceries. Why in the world would you be a serial killer's target?
"JJ, Morgan, I want you to talk to the families of these woman and see what you can find out. Their lifestyles, last contacts, places they were seen a few days leading up to their disappearances." JJ and Morgan nod, rising to action and disappearing out of the room.
"Prentiss and Rossi, check out the dump sites." Once Emily and Rossi leave the room to complete their duties, the room feels even more suffocating even though there's less people in it.
There is absolutely no way you can focus on finding a serial killer that has a preference for women just like you while working with Spencer, but it leaves Spencer and Hotch left as possible partners for this case.
"(Y/n), until we get more information, I want to be safe rather than sorry. This team has suffered enough so for now you will work with Spencer on the geographical profile."
With that, he stands and leaves me and Spencer in the room, alone.
It's almost too hard to bear so you immediately begin. "I'm going to print out a map so we can see his hunting and dumping zones," you explain quickly, leaving the room like a fire was just lit up your ass.
You enter an internal conflict of not wanting to waste time and therefore, endangering another women's life, but you also aren't sure if you're going to be able to handle being alone in close proximity with the coworker you had a literal wet dream about just a few hours ago.
You decide that a woman's life is more important than your own feelings and quickly make work printing and bringing back a map.
Once it's taped to the board, you and Spencer immediately get to work putting pointer tabs on the map, red for dumpsites, blue for abduction sites.
You both step back to allow yourselves the bigger picture. You can feel the heat radiate off of Spencer and you dare a quick glance towards him. His button-down sleeves are rolled up the elbows, his arms crossed against his chest, his finger running across his jaw. You can almost see the beautifully brilliant cogs in his head at work as you stare.
You're broken out of your trance when he suddenly moves closer to the map and draws a circle. "Most of the dump sites are within a mile radius of each other just outside of FBI territory, but the abduction sites are more scattered." His fingers lightly trace the map, pointing to each abduction site.
"Grocery store parking lot, park, apartment building.."
Your eyes widen as realization begins to sink in, this one being even more damning than just looking like the victims.
"Spence.." you breathe out. You move closer to get a better look at the map, ensuring you're not just creating something out of nothing.
"I've been to all these places before.." You say this so low, for a moment think he didn't even hear you.
"Actually, all of those sites are some of the most common places people go on a day-to-day basis. For example, 8.642 million people live in the state of Virginia and if you take the area of Quantico and surrounding areas -"
"Spencer, what days did these women get abducted?" You ask, your lip begins to quiver slightly as you push the panic down that is threatening to rise up inside you. You're hoping that this is all just some sick coincidence and you're not right about the theory you're about to put to the test.
"The first victim, Abby Reynolds, got abducted from the Walmart parking lot off 610 on the second. Laney Parker from Smith Lake Park on the fifth. Delaney Litz from Aquia Fifteen Apartments -" Your entire body freezes in absolute terror and Spence pauses. "What is it?"
"Spencer, I went to all of the places on those days and that apartment building...I live there."
His eyes widen as he stars at you in shock. "You're sure you went to those places at the same time?"
"Yes..I- I went to Walmart right after we got done our case on the second to get wine for me and Penelope, then on the fifth I took my nephew to Smith Lake Park because we had the day off and I felt guilty for being a terrible sister and never talking to my sister..." Tears threaten to spill across your cheeks but you internally chastise yourself to get a grip. This could all still just simply be a coincidence. A sick fucking coincidence.
Spencer immediately grabs his phone out of his pocket and calls Hotch. Spencer puts Hotch on speaker phone as the rest of the team is conferenced in.
"JJ, what did you guys learn from the families?"
"All 4 women were extremely work orientated, barely even found the time to buy themselves groceries and lived low-risk lifestyles."
You practically throw yourself into a chair at the round table, unable to control the trembling of your hands and the threat of your knees buckling beneath you. Spencer sets his phone down on the table and takes the chair in front of you. As the team speaks to one another, Spencer gently reaches for your hands and squeezes them, running his thumbs over the back of your hands in an attempt to comfort you.
He lets go of one hand and reaches over the table to mute the phone. "Do you want me to tell them, or do you want to do it?"
You honestly aren't even sure your brain is working correctly at this point. All you know is that you are in the safest place you can be, and you know your team wouldn't let anything happen to you. Spencer wouldn't let anything happen to you.
"You, please." You whisper. He nods and unmutes the phone.
"Guys, we found out something interesting while working on the geographical profile." He begins.
"Go on," Hotch urges.
"Well, first, all the dumping sites are within a 1 mile radius of each other right outside the FBI territory. I think he wants the bodies displayed and found, particularly by us." He slides his chair close to yours and stills your shaky hands with his. "Also, each woman was abducted from places (y/n) went to on those same days."
The line goes silent and it's almost enough to push you over the edge. Not only do you have to manage your own panic and fear, you have a whole team you brought this upon who now has to worry for a friends life and you can't help but feel guilty for it. "Prentiss, head back to the office. (Y/n), are you up for a cognitive?"
You gaze up at Spencer who gives you a comforting nod. "Y-yes. I can do that."
"I'll be there in 5," Prentiss calls out and the phone conference ends.
"Will you please stay with me? During the interview?" You manage to choke out. You try to fight the onslaught of emotions this situation suddenly thrust upon you.
"Of course. You're safe with me, with us. You know none of us would ever let anything happen to you. You're not alone." Spencer pulls you into a tight hug and you allow yourself to relax into him. It does nothing to ease the coursing emotions and terror you have within yourself. Seeming to sense that, he pulls away but keeps his hands on your shoulders. "You're safe," he coos, offering a small, comforting smile.
You attempt to return a smile of your own, but you can't help the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that there is a bottom to this whole iceberg that you guys haven't seen yet.
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You take a seat on an uncomfortable metal chair in one of the interviewing rooms. "Do we really have to do this in here?" You sigh. Spencer stayed true to his word and pulled up a chair next to you. He placed a hand over yours, despite Emily being just across the table.
You almost allowed yourself to relax at the contact, but it only made your life a bit more difficult. Not only were you possibly being stalked and hunted by a brutal serial killer, but you also had a school girl crush on the one coworker who would likely never feel the same, and you would probably not confess to, even with your life in danger.
Emily laces her fingers together and winces. "I'm sorry, but yeah. You're considered a possible target now. You're involved on the opposite end of this case." Her honesty sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure you could handle someone sugar coating the danger you were in or the seriousness of this case, but the blunt honesty didn't make it any better easier.
"I'm just going to ask you simple questions. You're safe here, always remember that, (y/n)." I nod and close my eyes. I take Spencer's hand and squeeze it lightly. He squeezes back, his confirmation that he's there.
"You just got off the jet from a long case in Florida. What does it feel like outside?"
"Hot. Like I wanted to rip my clothes off." You can feel Spencer next to you tense at your comment and you squeezed his hand in flirt-reply but you were sure he would most likely not understand it.
"What did you do next?"
"I...I talked to Penelope. I called her when we landed while I walked to my car and I offered to come over to watch Illegally Blonde and bring wine."
"Focus on the carpark. Was there anyone just standing around? Any abnormal cars you didn't recognize?"
You tried to imagine the carpark at the tarmac. There were multiple floors, all used by different departments of the FBI. You were only really sure of the kinds of cars your close coworkers drove but there were probably hundreds of cars around as you walked through. "There's a lot of cars I don't know. I parked further away because I was running late and all the spots were full."
"Keep walking towards your car. Is there anyone just standing around?"
As I walk to towards my car, I swivel my head around, going over each small detail of my surroundings.
"There's a man in a suit with a briefcase but he's on the phone, talking to someone. I don't think he even knew I was there."
"Once you get in your car, is there anything abnormal? Does your car start the same way it always does? What do you smell?"
You rack your brain for the memory. You allow yourself to picture sitting in the car. "I think it smelt normal. Like my air freshener which I always change when it runs out."
Your air freshener hung from your rearview mirror, your steering wheel was in the same position you left it, and when you turned the car on, your car purred like normal. "Wait," you whisper.
"What is it?"
You feel Spencer's hand squeeze yours. "Normally, my phone automatically connects when I start it. I always play my music through my bluetooth and no one else's phone is paired so there should've been no reason for it to not connect."
"What did you do when you noticed your phone didn't connect?"
"I umm..I went into my settings to try to connect but then I saw my settings were basically clear edout. Like it was reset to factory settings."
"What did you do then?"
You take your bottom lip into your mouth and begin to chew as you allow the memory to play on. Spencer's hand brings you to Earth slightly and you let out a deep breathe and continue.
"I'm pretty sure I just paired it again...I thought it was weird, definitely, but I don't think I really thought much of it. No one was in my car or under, I always check. There wasn't any kind of van or large vehicle parked next to me. There wasn't anything else that made me feel in danger so I guess I just played it off like my car malfunctioned or something."
"Okay, are you alright to keep going?"
As the memory continues to play in your mind you begin to feeling the rising panic again. You're normally extremely vigilant, sometimes too much. Every sound and detail is always analyzed, you always make sure there's no danger around. You can't help but feel idiotic for missing it. Of course, you would never completely factory reset your car and you haven't taken it to get serviced in months.
As your breathing quickens, you fling your eyes open and blink back the tears forming. "I-I'm not sure. I feel...stupid. I should have noticed."
"You noticed everything else, though. You're not stupid. You checked for every other danger you could possibly think of, don't berate yourself for not thinking you were in danger because of something as simple as your phone not connecting. Almost no one would read into it any further than a vehicle malfunction." Spencer's hands were on your shoulders as he speaks to you, forcing you to stare at him.
"I'm a profiler, it's my job to read into things no one else does."
"You're human, (y/n). An intelligent human at that. Don't call yourself stupid." Spencer's tone almost makes you flinch, it sounds almost just like the dream you had...you shake your head to get the thought out and avoid his flamed gaze.
"I'm proud of you for getting this far," Spencer spoke softer this time, dropping his hands from your shoulders and taking your hand again. "You're brave."
"I'm brave," I repeat, taking a deep breath. "Let's continue."
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After a grueling, multiple hour long cognitive interview, you're mentally drained. Remembering every detail about every day for the past few weeks has taken a toll on you. As you exit the interview room, Prentiss pats your shoulder and gives you a comforting smile. She then heads off to discuss your interview with the team probably, but Spencer doesn't budge from your side.
You pause in the hallway and Spencer looks down at you, concern lacing his features. "You did great in there," he started. "You really helped us, a lot."
"I really hope so. I'm too scared to go home, I don't even want to leave the BAU just in case he hacked my car..." Tears well up in your eyes once again but this time, you decide to let them slip. You're too exhausted and confused and scared to care about what Spencer might think of you crying in front of him.
He gently brings a hand up to your cheek and wipes a fallen tear from it. His hand lingers on your face and he suddenly brings it down to his side as if realizing that he was prolonging his contact.
"Thank you for staying in there with me." You look at him with teary eyes and try to plaster on a smile.
He only frowns back at you. "Of course, I didn't want you to go through it alone. You know you don't need to put on a fake smile for me. I can see through it anyway."
You blink at his words and take a relieving breath. It was nice to not be expected to be okay right now. "Now that I'm considered a target, am I not allowed to know what you guys know?" It was almost too much to bear, the thought of being kept in the dark when you were the one in danger.
"As much as Hotch might say you should stay out of it, I don't think it's fair. Knowing the information we do could possibly save your life."
The tight knot in your stomach uncoils slightly. It helps to know that even if things are kept from you, there is someone who would fight for you and probably tell you anyway.
"There you guys are, Hotch needs us in the conference room." JJ states, popping her head around the corner and disappearing just as quickly as she came.
Spencer places a gentle hand on the small of my back and leads me to the round table. You're grateful for this because you don't think you'd be able to keep yourself up and moving on your own.
As soon as you sit down, Hotch doesn't give you a moment to catch your breath before he begins. "Based on everything so far, our profile suggests that you're his endgame, (y/n)."
Your eyes widen but you're unable to even open your mouth to ask why.
Garcia speaks next and you whip your gaze to her as she fidgets with the fluffy pen in her hand. "I did some internet sleuthing, as I do, and I found something...extremely creepy." She pushes a button on the remote next to her and a website appears on the screen. The tension in the room becomes taut like a wire as an entire blog about you comes up on the screen. "It's anonymous, of course. But not for long, I will not let him get away with this." Garcia states angrily, as the different blog entries are scrolled through.
"She will belong to me even if it's the last thing I do."
"Such a selfish whore, parading around for me, basically asking for my attention and then pretending like I don't exist."
"I think she gets it, guys." Spencer snarls.
"(Y/n), do you have any idea who this guy is?" Morgan asks.
"I-I don't know. I rarely even go anywhere! I don't understand why I'm the target. What is so special about me?" You cry out, exasperated.
"There must have been an interaction, even a super brief, normal one you had with him." JJ points out.
"I don't remember anyone out of the blue coming up to me..."
"He most likely wouldn't have. You might have had to talk to him for any kind of reason, a cashier, a waiter, even someone who held the door open for you." Prentiss sighs.
"I don't think he would have worked at any of the places the women were abducted from. He's obviously got a large house, land, or somewhere to hold these women. He tends to hold them for around 2 days before dumping them and if he's stalking (y/n) in his free time, he's probably got a flexible job or no job at all." Morgan explains.
"Garcia, get a list of everyone that lives with their parents or took over their parents residence after they passed, especially those with farms, or land." Hotch orders.
"Also check for men who's parents might have owned buildings he can keep women in that are now abandoned like factories, mills, schools." Rossi chimes in.
Garcia nods and races out of the room and to her office.
"We've got to find a way to get this guy to come out of his hiding spot.." JJ hums.
"(Y/n)?" Hotch asks, his gaze noticeably softer. You're almost too afraid to answer, internally begging to just stay here, away from danger. "Yes?" You answer quietly.
"I wouldn't ask this if I thought we had other leads or ways to narrow down suspects...but we might need you to draw him out."
"Absolutely not!" Spencer jumps from his seat. The entire table falls silent at his outburst.
"It might be the only way of making sure other women don't get hurt, Spencer." Hotch reasoned.
"I don't care! You're putting her in danger!" Spencer roared, shoving his chair from behind him and pacing around the room. "You can't Hotch."
"It's okay," you croak out. If it means saving another woman's life, you're willing to make the sacrifice. You don't allow yourself to think about Spencer's outburst and why he could've possibly been so upset. You're just friends. He just cares about you because you're his friend, you tell yourself.
Spencer sits back down in his seat, his gaze unable to meet mine. "I can handle it," you lift your chin and straighten your back, faking a confidence you sure as hell don't have.
"Everyone meet back here in an hour and we'll discuss the details." With this, Hotch rises out of his seat and leaves the room. The others do the same, leaving you and Spencer by yourselves, still seated at the round table.
"I'm brave, remember?" You say, giving him a sad smile. He gives you an even sadder smile back. "Yes, you are." You can see him battling an internal battle with himself, his body almost shaking. "You'll be there to protect me, right?"
"Of course."
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llamagoddessofficial · 7 months
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Hello hello! This is Relating to the prison au and the idea suddenly came to me but how would it differ if the mc was a a lot younger like an intern? I tried searching more if it was even allowed to be a med student intern in a prison but I dunno I just thought it was a neat idea, like if she appeared like an optimistic platonic younger sister more than a romantic interest? Aaaa sorry English isn't my first language I hope the idea got through ^^'
I want to congratulate you, anon... you're the first person in a long time to ask something related to prison au that has never been asked before!
Sans: Unfortunately, he'll be even worse. More manipulative, more possessive... more evil. With an older Mc he might see her as easy to manipulate, but he still absolutely views her as her own person- he'd do bad stuff but he (at least) would still respect her opinions and choices. When she's young, he does not respect her opinions and choices. She's just a kid who doesn't know better, someone who needs him to make the big decisions on her behalf.
The worst part is, once he attaches, he sees her like a little sister. It really fucks up his mind- all of those messy, dark, painful feelings about Papyrus, all that unresolved grief from losing one younger sibling... he doesn't care what happens to anyone. Or anything. So long as he doesn't lose any more family.
He's kind to her; oh-so-kind, a sweet and goofy older brother figure who makes terrible puns and chats to her for hours about her favourite videogames. But he's a terrifying empty creature, and he's absolutely going to use her youth and inexperience to his advantage, to make her trust him more than everyone else. Nothing is off the table.
Red: Red adores her. Much like Sans, he ends up in something of a 'big brother' role- the difference is that Red's connection with her is a lot healthier and gentler, with a decent amount of friendly 'fighting' (tossing harmless insults at each other). He turns into a different person around her; he minds his language somewhat, he manages his temper better, although he teases her his teasing never has any venom and he'll drop jokes that upset her. He was built to be a big brother, and he misses his Papyrus a lot- it feels good to have a bond like that with someone again.
(Speaking of Papyrus- he loves Mc too. He sees the effect she has on Red and he absolutely wants to encourage the positive growth. Also... he always wanted a younger sibling.)
Red makes jokes about giving her contraband or getting her in trouble, and her presence in his life has put her firmly on the inmate no-touch list. Red may be a criminal, and he may associate with people who have done terrible things... but he reserves the worst of the worst punishments for those who hurt kids, and his family. Let alone both.
She's been adopted by the mob.
Skull: Skull's intense feelings about Mc in the prison aus aren't really specifically romantic or platonic in the first place. It's his Soul crying out for love and connection after so long alone. They're just Skull Feelings- so a platonic Mc would see the same degree of insanity, desperation and clinginess from our darling cannibal as her older nurse counterpart.
But... I think he would be a bit better with her, overall. Mc being noticeably younger, in his eyes, makes her more 'fragile'- both emotionally and physically. That nagging thought of i need to be careful and responsible would centre him a little more, make him more aware, gentle and slow. In the same way he wouldn't want to frighten a small child, he doesn't want to frighten her; he moves like hes trying not to spook away a small animal. He'd be better at smiling.
... He would still get moments where he can't help himself. Moments where he snaps out of restraints and grabs her, moments where he attacks other staff for getting too close to her. But he tries.
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
Text
more clone^2 thoughts
you know who i just remembered ALSO has long hair? Vlad. Vlad Masters. Danny's worst enemy and biggest pain in the ass ever since he sent those vulture ghosts after his fucking dAD. Danny having long hair would make Vlad so inSUFFERABLE. Like look!! Proof that you are much better off as MY son. We have matching hair lengths! Come be my son! I will make you a halfa like me and we will become powerful allies together!
Danny almost chops it off out of spite. He ends up not doing it because he likes his hair long, actually, very much so and he's not growing it out again just because you're crazy! He's attempted to take a pair of scissors to Vlad's hair though -- THAT was a fight that got ugly. Danny's go-to threat whenever he sees him after that is that he's going to chop off vlad's hair when he's not looking - just you watch, Masters. He'll do it. HE'LL DO IT.
And if Danny wasn't keeping it a tight secret, he'd turn around and taunt Vlad about being a) a clone and b) a clone of BRUCE WAYNE. he'd say stuff like:
"How's it feel knowing my parents cloned a man richer than you"
"you're just mad that bruce wayne is more my dad than you'll ever be!"
"it could've been you that my parents accidentally cloned instead of Wayne, but instead you fucked off for twenty years instead!"
but also its a constant question Danny asks himself how he and no one else ever figured it out sooner that he was a clone. He doesn't understand how Vlad of all people didn't realize it when he went to college with the man with his parents and was also stinking rich, before remembering that he doubts Vlad remembers anyone who wasn't his parents in college, and has been a rich, recluse loser this entire time.
its a good thing though, danny's pretty sure vlad would attempt a hit on the man if he found out out of pure jealousy and indignant rage. And then he'd get his ass beat by Batman and his army of children.
All in all, Dany is a pure menace towards Vlad whenever he gets the chance, as is normal, and then Vlad's suffering gets doubled after he makes Ellie - of which she is even worse than Danny because she's the halfa that Danny Is NOt and thus has the powers to break into his house easy peasy and wreck shit. She steals his obsidian black card and goes on a shopping spree. This is a regular occurrence.
(and for anyone who isn't aware - Ellie is the same age as Danny in clone^2 bc i thought it'd be fun)
And then it gets tripled once Damian joins the family and gets caught up to speed on all of Vlad's tomfoolery and whoops, Damian's got better stealth skills than Danny and looks like Ellie has a partner in crime whenever they need to sneak into vlad's house to cause him grief.
Vlad's walls are the first canvas for Damian to test out his new spray paints on once he gets them :)
next up
Wes weston! i love this guy, he's so funny and he definitely knows danny is the Phantom in the clone^2 au. it's not as easy to figure out as it is in canon since its not just a simple colorswap, but perhaps he sees Danny taking off his mask after a daytime fight. and after that he becomes determined to reveal that quiet, strange fenton is the vigilante phantom.
he's putting some real,,, detectiveness? stalkerish? skills to use because catching photos of phantom is not as easy as it is if he were a halfa. He can't just snap a few dozen photos of fenton and phantom and then color compare the two of them either - Phantom wears a mask, and works primarily at night or in evenings, and typically avoids the living during the day. And he doesn't speak to the living either. Wes has to put in some extra work into his investigations and evidence.
He also makes the dumb mistake of cornering Danny in the bathroom one day early on and telling him he knows he's the Phantom -- now that Danny knows that Wes knows, he's going to be even more careful not to get caught. He puts in a little extra work in both Fenton and Phantom - another layer, perhaps a jacket, as Phantom, and baggier pants and boots he never wears as Fenton. His hood stays up in the daytime.
He was already putting in some extra effort to appear creepy and unsettling as Phantom - things like crouching low, tense movements, fluid movements. If he's perched on something he does a kinda-crawl like movement - think a mix between a bear and a gorilla crawl. It's weird, creepy. And he stares. Danny's mastered the art of not needing to blink for long periods of time, so if he sees you and sticks around he stares. It doesn't help that you can't see his eyes that well through his mask - its just two piercing green.
It helps endear him to ghosts and his enemies though - the annoying little human boy is engaging in ghost culture! That's eliciting some form of begrudging respect from his enemies.
And then compare that creepy, almost cryptid-like behavior to Fenton who, while considered a freak, really isn't anything more than just some dorky weirdo with occasional heart problems. He's kinda unsettling - he has those 'stares into soul' eyes - but its leveled by the fact that he's kinda just... dorky. It reads as normal, awkward kid behavior, and then gets disregarded completely as he gets older and it bleeds into 'very chill teenager'. Fenton being Phantom doesn't compute that much.
Paulina: you think Phantom is Fenton? Wes: I don't think, I know he is! I have proof-- Star: Just because they both have black hair doesn't mean they're the same, Wes. That's like saying Paulina and Manson are sisters because they also have black hair.
Wes's attempts to out him as Phantom means that Danny is a little more wary of him than he is in canon, since his vigilante identity isn't an entirely different ghost form its just him, so he has to be careful about where or when he takes off his mask in case Wes is around. Especially during daytime fights.
But other than that he has a lot of time messing with him. Wes is trying to convince his table group at lunch that Fenton = Phantom (again) and Danny just so happens to be within earshot of him and starts making fun of the idea.
"You think I'm Phantom?" and he's got the most disbelieving grin on his face that's only partially convincing. "That's totally bogus, man. The Phantom famously doesn't get along with my parents, why would I be a ghost hunter and not work with them?"
He has this most shit-eating, delighted look in his eyes that Wes knows is pure manic glee at being able to mess with him and get away with it. Wes is going to strangle him.
"Besides, dude, did you forget I have a heart condition? I can't be chasing around ghosts - my heart would give out from all that running and jumping."
Although Danny can get really serious at the flip of a coin if need be - especially with Wes when he gets too pushy about him being Phantom. A notable instance is when Wes cornered him in an empty bathroom to again talk about him being Phantom.
Except Danny, who had been working on a really difficult cold case about the death of a child, and hadn't gotten much sleep in the last 72 hours, plus a plethora of other stuff (like recently acquiring Damian, fighting ghosts, etc), wasn't in the mood to entertain him. It ended with Weston getting pinned to the wall and lowkey threatened by Danny. He apologizes for it afterwards but it's not forgotten.
Additional note: Wes Weston having a crush on Danny Fenton is a hilarious trope to me so Wes absolutely has a crush on Danny and the only one in denial about it is him. Everyone else - except Danny because he's more focused on the fact that Wes knows his identity, and has other things to worry about - knows about it, and everyone chalks up his obsession with Danny as being part of said crush.
Wes' friend: you know usually when you have a crush on someone you normally confess, maybe ask them out, pine from afar....
Wes: i dont--
Wes's friend: not accuse him of being the local ghost-fighting vigilante. Seriously, wes! His parents are ghost hunters!
Wes: i do not have a crush
Wes's friend: and ghosts aren't real! everyone knows that's a lie!
next up
Dan! Or Dante, but i'll call him Dan for the time being. Even if I dislike the name with a passion. Much like Wrath from my Childhood Friends au, Dan here is pretty different from his canon counterpart. Mostly because I wanted to experiment with Dan and different interpretations of him, and I thought; hey, where no better than an au where Danny has no powers?
so, dan? Dan is not a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost halves -- now, don't get me wrong, danny still ends up under vlad's custody care after the death of his family, but he just doesn't fuse with Vlad's ghost.
So, what happened? What happened is that Vlad convinces a grieving Danny that he should let him make him a halfa (despite the fact that he has no idea how) because the he could go find his family in the ghost zone. Danny is in no mental state for any kind of experiments, but his hope and want to see his family and friends again gets him to agree.
It backfires. Vlad doesn't make Danny a halfa, he just ends up killing him completely. Danny comes back instantly as a ghost however, and enraged over being lied to, betrayed, and murdered, ends up killing Vlad in furious cold blood. He doesn't fuse with his ghost half, there's no ghost half to fuse with.
So a grieving ghost, Danny flees into the ghost zone. And, in this iteration, doesn't end up destroying the world. So how does TUE end up happening? Well, ten years later - with Danny remaining a forever 14 year old ghost - Dan ends up finding out about time travel. He finds out a way to travel back into the past, and he does.
So he can take over his past self's life. Danny just thinks he's fighting a weird doppleganger ghost, but ends up getting overshadowed. It's like being in a weird limbo, and Danny's not really sure what's happening - but his friends figure something out. After all, its been ten years since dan saw his friends, something has to give.
And that episode happens. Danny ends up meeting clockworth, beats Dan. But, well, it's not really happily ever after - somewhat. Ehh.. sorta. Danny's been traumatized by Dan's overshadowing - making him realize that despite everything, there are things ghosts can do that danny simply cannot and he needs to prepare for it. Onset paranoia, anyone?
Dan tells them his whole tragic backstory - there's a chance for redemption here, for him. For forgiveness. Not immediately, not yet, but its there. And he doesn't want to go back to the future - he's alone there. He's tired of being alone.
But he ends up being convinced - he needs to learn to look forward, not cling back. He can build himself up again, find new family. He doesn't have to be alone. So Dan goes back to the future.
"But come tell me if Vlad's giving you trouble --" and he smiles something wicked, "I'd be happy to handle him again"
and finally
not so much as any concrete thoughts as it is just me being emotional over Danny and Damian's brotherhood in this au and also Danny's hands. Again.
lIKE.. I put it in the tags of my reblog of my "danny's scarred hands' ficlet but im putting it here and its just?? Danny grabbing the blade of Damian's sword. Him grabbing the sword multiple times despite the fact that he knows it will hurt, that he will hurt himself. That he will keep hurting himself until Damian himself stops.
its just like??? whats it mean to spill your own blood just so that this little boy you've just met won’t have to ever again. he doesn't know any english and he is hurting you and yet you take him home and get him new clothes. he runs away and you go looking for him, every single time. you teach yourself arabic first so that you can converse with him.
this boy is a clone and so are you. you're a clone of his father he's a clone of your son - by nature of your existence this is your child. except its not your child, you don't have one, its just a little boy who happens to share the same dna as you. and you take him home and he becomes your little brother.
what's it mean when its you whose been hurt rather than him? whats it mean when you’d hurt yourself again just so that he can start to heal, so that he knows that he’s worth it? you cut your hands on his blade, catch its swing, just so this boy can know, can learn, that there’s someone who will bleed for him. that there's someone who will scar their hands just to make sure that you wont scar yours.
you’re a bleeding heart and its spilling out onto your palms. you take bloody fingers and wrap it around your little brother’s and say "its okay. it’s okay. you’re safe. no one will hurt you here. i promise. i wont let them. no one will hurt you so long as i'm around."
"put the sword down. i can show you how. let me show you how."
and damian in this au just reminds me of the song "eight" by sleeping at last. like?? the lYRICS. he is sO "eight" coded
'show me how to lay my sword down for long enough to let you through.' 'here i am. pry me open. what do you want to know?' 'im just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence' 'but here's a map. here's a shovel. here's my achilles' heel. im all in palms out. im at your mercy now and im ready to begin. i am strong enough to let you in.'
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"by nature of our existence we are father and son, but by choice we are brothers. we are brothers we are brothers we are brothers. and i love you"
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#clone^2#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp dc#dp dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpdc au#ITS JUST. THEM. IM SORRY BUT ITS THEM AND I LOVE THEM.#damian's guilt of hurting danny and the consistent conversations they have from that. danny always tells damian he forgives him.#'i hurt you' 'i know' 'im sorry' 'i know'#'one day i hope you forgive yourself just as much as i have forgiven you.' 'repeat after me: its not your fault'#'youre my brother and i hurt you and im sorry. i love you.'#i should get around to making a post about the batfam meeting them but i just!!! I love damian and danny i love their dynamic#and i know that i was the one who decided that its years before they meet the batfam after meeting each other but its still just a choice#that im stil so happy about because they become brothers! they meet the batfam and they're expecting baby damian to be like how damian was#when he arrived in the manor but he's not. he's not. he wears funny graphic tees and his older brother is bruce's clone and its so clear#that they love each other. bby dames steals his brother's flannels and gets chased around by him. and they roughhouse like brothers do#and his older brother is bruce's clone and he throws damian over his shoulders and calls him 'dames' and 'dami' and 'my boy' and its so#so obvious that this clone of bruce utterly adores damian.#and i had the idea before writing this that damian's first english word is 'star' and he turns to danny and calls him star when he wants#his attention for something. he points at him and says 'star' and he doesn't do that much anymore now that he knows english#but its one of the first signs of him trusting danny when he first arrived.
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luna-rainbow · 9 months
Text
On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness
Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.
Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.
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Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.
But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.
Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."
So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.
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In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.
What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.
At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."
It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."
I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).
When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?
"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."
He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."
When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.
The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.
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But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"
Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.
When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.
And that dream dies with Bucky.
"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.
He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.
His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.
And he is denied even that.
He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.
But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.
A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.
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He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.
What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.
Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).
He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.
He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.
"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.
The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.
He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.
Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.
It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.
"He doesn't know you."
"He will."
He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.
And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.
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Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.
"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."
Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.
Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.
That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.
So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.
And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.
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rachetmath · 2 months
Text
Jaune More MC Ruby?
Ruby: That’s why I’m the MC and you're the side character.
Jaune: So because you have silver eyes you’re special?
Ruby: Yep.
Jaune: Even though I cheated Beacon.
Ruby: Yep.
Jaune: I was bullied.
Ruby: Yep.
Jaune: My partner is dead. And because I let my guard down, Ozpin died, and Oscar had no choice but to come on this journey. You know,  because of me.
Ruby: Yep.
Jaune: And because Cinder, who works under Salem killed my partner, I have beef with the main villain and her whole crew.
Ruby: Yeah.
Jaune: Salem, who I have way more in common with than most people, the deemed goddess I’m defying her, just like she did with the brothers over a loved one's death. Are you following me so far?
Ruby: … Yeah…
Jaune: Hazel, who mind you, lost his sister. He lost his sister because of the world Ozpin had created, like I did, with Pyrrha.
Qrow: She had a choice.
Jaune: A few days' choice which turned into minutes when Beacon was attacked. Then discovering how bad the situation is, you know with Salem being immortal, I almost hurt if not killed Oscar, making me at the spur of the moment,  just as bad as Hazel. And mind you I was willing to fight you on that.
Ruby: Uh… yeah…
Jaune: Tyrian, has the opposite to my semblance. Wasn’t he more interested in me than you? And you were his target.
Ruby: Mmhmm.
Jaune: Let’s talk about Cinder again. Cinder had two stray kids who followed her. I have Ren and Nora. Neither have parents. Also, we both want power but for different reasons. We even have different views on destiny.
Ruby: Oh damn.
Jaune: Atlas. Oscar did Ironwood not act like how I did in Argus but worse?
Oscar: Yeah he did. Jaune even saw Salem in person before you did.
Yang: So did we. You saw her face to face.
Oscar: I’m Ozpin. What is that supposed to mean?
Ruby: Oscar, not helping.
Jaune: Neo. We both lost our partners. The difference is that I have friends while she has none. The cat, him, and I almost have the same ability except he manipulates your soul or takes it. He might as well have been a devil version of me.
Weiss: O. Dear lord.
Jaune: Watts. … … … You know what no. He-he was no. Like he could have done better, he’s an example of being smart yet making the dumbest choices. 
Weiss: True.
In the Twilight
Watts: What?! My decision was understandable.
Ironwood: No. No, they were not.
Penny: Like you could have logically put your two weeks in and left for another kingdom. Or country. Like Vale. Mistral. Anywhere. You could have helped where you could've been needed. Which would have made you better than my father.
Watts: I wasted my life.
Back to Remnant 
Ruby: Um….
Jaune: You know what I have to ask this question. What is the moral of the story and how does your character fit into this?
Ruby: Well my-
Jaune: Let me retort. I lied. I was bullied. I had no idea about anything in the hunting world. I needed a teacher. I lost someone important to me. I have beef with the main villains. I train to get stronger to be of use to others.
Ruby: So?
Jaune: Okay. No one believed in me. But I still went to chase my goal. I lost the best thing in my life. I still moved forward. I had to kill someone. Still moved forward. I’m an old man trapped in a boy's body. Still moving forward. Fighting the odds that are stacked against me. I have seven who no one knows about. Yet your family is more interesting.
Ruby: Your point?
Jaune: The moral of the story is that no matter your circumstance you can always be better. Never allow destiny or grief to influence your entire life. No matter what odds that stand before you,  you can ultimately change your fate. And no matter the darkness a simple soul can light up the night and unite everyone against a greater evil. Even when the whole world is against you, you are never alone to endure it. If we stand united and look past our differences only then the wor;d would be a better place.
Ruby: Well my mom died at Salem’s hands.
Jaune: And?
Ruby: It's still relevant.
Jaune: You're right. But how many times has your mother been mentioned and you bothered to get information about her?
Yang: I-
Jaune: Bitch shut the fuck up. You were looking for the deadbeat mom more than the mom who stepped up.
Ruby: Well um… um…. Damn. Oh, but I-
Jaune: You weren’t the sword. I may not have known Penny as long as you, but the fact, that I could've saved her proved her death hit harder than Pyrrha's. I’m close to walking in Raven’s path.
Ruby: Shit.
Jaune: And back to your mother. She was a silver-eyed warrior. But Salem is still here. Do silver eyes work on her?
Ruby: Um.
Jaune: Because Salem is still both the brothers' creation. The old humanity. She can't be phased by the black liquid even though everything they touch decays. 
Ruby: She's immortal.
Jaune: Yeah but again when Maria told you her story didn't she try using her silver eyes on humans and it didn't work? 
Ruby: Cinder.
Jaune: Grimm arm.
Ruby: The hound. 
Blake: Silver-eyed person too but only stunned them.
Ruby: Blake.
Blake: What a minute he had animalistic ears. Should I be concerned for my people?
Jaune: Yeah… we’re not getting into that. The point is if you go see Salem and your silver eyes don't work then your mom died for nothing.
Ruby: Oo. Um…
Jaune: And let's get back to the other villains. Besides Emerald, Mercury, and Tyrian, some of them have valid reasons to join Salem. 
Ren: Jaune!
Jaune: Ren, your village got destroyed.
Ren: Nevermind.
Me: Hold up. Let me start. With Cinder, a huntsman saw what she was going through and didn't bother to help her. She was alone. The world abandoned her.  
Jaune: So Hazel was right. In fact, Raven had a point.
Oscar(Ozpin): Mr. Arc I-
Jaune: Motherfucker Hazel had every right to be angry. Dude shadow missions involve us going with experienced hunters. Yet his sister died and Ruby could’ve died. Shadowing them. Following their lead. Does that not show how bad the hunting system is? Not just that we got hunters who died in the line of duty. Not to mention how some were sexually harassing the girls.  And some of them are just plain crazy or assholes. Not to mention Blake, Qrow, and Raven. You let them in. And to make matters worse you chose Pyrrha, a first-year student, to be your maiden.
Oscar(Ozpin): She was my best option. 
Jaune: So Glynda wasn't on the table? A high-ranked fourth-year student wasn't on the table? Man, at least you could have chosen Ruby considering she has silver eyes and is a young upcoming prodigy. That would have made her more important. Like Ozpin Ruby off the bat was better than Pyrrha.
Qrow: Hey, I would have stopped that.
Jaune: O, so… it was okay with Pyrrha… but not your niece. I see. Hypocrite.
Qrow: Damn. Set myself up for that.
Jaune: Watts, despite his stupidity, had a point. James would abuse any source of technology just to have some level of control over something. Why did you think he wanted your sister instead of Penny? Why do you think he wanted Amity up as quickly as possible? Why do you think he hacked into Penny? Everything was always about control.
Weiss: Well our lives weren't easy.
Jaune: That I won't deny. Yet we are all still bad people.
Yang: Jaune my mother -
Jaune: Raven and Summer left you. Summer no one cared enough to talk about. Raven doesn't matter at all. Willow waited until her children were teenagers or young adults to start dealing with an abusive father. And Kali… yeah she should have slapped some sense into her daughter. 
Weiss: Well your mom doesn't love you.
Jaune: Don't care. Back to Jacque though how does he and James know each other? Why do they have beef with one another? Unless… o. Oh no. Don't tell me. Did James set Jacque up with Willow? And in return, he helps James rise to power. Or did James love Willow but because of his career he couldn't marry her? Could Winter be-
Weiss: Please stop. I do not need those theories in my head.
Jaune: Fine. The point I'm trying to make is… … well how about you explain.
Me: It's crazy how Jaune fits the main character role better than Ruby.
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
Note
I'd love Obanai + Sanemi saving reader from a demon (like in the first episode??) You are awesome, thanks!
This escalated so quick damn, but hey, there you have a full on fic hehe - hope you enjoy <3
Sanemi saving your ass even if you don't want to
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Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,9k
Synopsis: You knew what you got yourself into when you let a demon capture you instead of your beloved friend. Little did you know that help already arrived, viewing you as nothing but a damsel in distress until suddenly, you turn into much more...
Warnings: (y/n) fell but I fell harder, just saw the movie and it's so AHHH, honestly Sameni's voice is so mezmerizing omg, however this includes violence and language, might incluce spoilers for the movie but if you haven't seen it already you don't know what's going on anyway lol, like all my demon slayer fanfics this includes ai pics of reader so if this doesn't sit right with you, I'd suggest to not read it
PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED MORE SANEMI CONTENT
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Your dirty cold feet pound against the muddy floor, haunted eyes darted towards nothing but sheer darkness. You still don’t know how you managed to keep the demon from kidnapping your best friend, how you’re still alive when at this very moment, this frightful creature his hunting you down like its prey.
So many innocent young women, one after another disappeared from your village nearby. Why did you never even think about the possibility that you or even worse, a person you love could be next?
Not until now. Not until you stared into the demon’s stone-cold red orbs when it began to run after you. Not until you were the one threatened to get eaten alive.
“Run! Run and don’t look back!”
“But (y/n), you’ll get killed-“
“I won’t. Leave it to me, tell everyone to lock their doors, just don’t come back!”, you screamed on top of your lungs.
“I’m getting impatient, stupid girl. You know you will get killed, right?”
Blood rushed through your ears, body threatened to fail you.
“If you want to kill me you have to get me first, stupid demon.”
How long have you been running for? Minutes, hours? You lost track of time completely with your body screaming, begging you to stop and take a break. The bitter taste of iron covers your whole mouth, blood sticks to your new Yukata like a second skin. Your mother will completely lose it when she sees the crimson discolouring on the white fabric.
“I’m having enough.”
If you ever see her again.
With a swift motion, the demon swings you over his shoulder, his claws digging into your flesh so roughly that you cry out. No, this can’t be the end. You can’t allow yourself to die like this: in the arms of a demon, without even fighting back. No one ever told you what to do, you were always able to stand up for yourself. Today will be no exception. Even if you get killed, you will fight back with everything you have.
“Shinazugawa…Something’s not right.”
Sanemi can’t help but look around, eyes meeting the countless demons around him. What the hell is this place?
“Yeah, I don’t like this, either. I’ve never seen demons swarming around like this.”
“Let me go!”, you yell, fist banging roughly against the creatures’ back while it drags you into what looks like a haunted mansion.
Your eyes widen when you feel multiple pairs of red orbs laying on your body.
“Demon slayers…”, you hear your kidnapper hiss through gritted teeth, turning his head over his shoulder.
Demon slayers? You’ve heard of them before, how they behead every demon coming their way, how desperately they fight for humanity. But…where were these demon slayers when all the girls from your village got kidnapped? Where are they when you need them the most? How absoluteley useless.
You don’t know what has gotten into you. Is it the anger, the grief? With a rapid motion, you dig your nails into the eyes of the demon until he lets you fall to the ground abruptly, groaning out in visible pain.
Everything hurts, a trail of blood follows you as you drag your body against a rotten wall. You feel your body giving in, all the stress, agony and exhaustion rushing over you like a wave. But no, you can’t give up right now. Not when there’s still a slight chance for you to survive.
“You little bitch. Eat her, I will leave and get her little friend.”
Suddenly, the urge to puke becomes almost unbearable. Countless demons come near you, their teeth exposed to the harsh moonlight. No, this is not how you want to end. You can’t die getting eaten alive by these creatures. But what else are you supposed to do? There is no way out of this living hell.
Except for the destroyed window a few steps away. This is your only chance. You drag yourself up, sprint over the rotten wood underneath your naked feet and jump.
Floors into the depths.
Away from the demons, into another certain death.
“Where is the girl?”, Sanemi questions harshly, sword oh so ready to behead that bastard of a demon in front of him while heading down.
Screw this strange place and the countless demons around him, he needs to find you, needs to carry you into safety.
“The girl? She jumped out of a window in order to safe herself. She’s probably dead by now.”
He lets out the breath he didn’t knew he was holding, blank eyes staring at the stone ground his blade has crashed instead of the demon. What was this place?
No, he can’t think about this right now. As fast as his body carries him, he gets out of that cursed mansion, eyes instantly finding your falling body.
Only metres away from crushing into the ground.
Oh, how much you wished it wouldn’t end like this. But maybe this was everything you could do, dying like this is still better than getting eaten up by a demon. Where are those demon slayers? You close your tired lids, enjoy the weightlessness for a brief second. It doesn’t matter now. Hopefully, the demon is long dead before you. At least you're dragging his ass with you…
“Hey, you aren’t dead, are ya?”
That voice…A male voice, without any doubt. So harsh and tempting at the same time that you can’t help but open your eyes in confusion.
Only to be met by purple ones. Male ones, to be exact. Are those...his arms wrapped around your trembling body?
“Let me go!”, you shriek.
It seems like all power that left your body appeared again while you miserably try to fight yourself out of his arms. Who is this man? Another demon, maybe?
“I won’t let you eat me!”
“Eating you? Are you dumb, woman? I’m a demon slayer”, the man in front of you barks, his hands roughly holding onto your arms in order to stop you from hitting him again.
“A demon slayer?” you repeat.
“Yeah, the wind hashira to be exact.”
Your gaze falls from his face to his exposed chest, his toned abs. He breathes heave while still holding onto your arms. Suddenly you feel so…hot.
“You are a demon slayer.”
With a swift motion, you free one of your hands and slap him so hard that he sees stars.
“It sure took you some time to get here! What about all the other women who died here, the countless young girls that were killed by demons you did nothing about? Why did you save me!?”
“I’m wondering that too”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.
Did you actually go inane? The way you look at him with your eyes completely furious, face and yukata smeared in your own blood. You can’t be serious about that, right?
“You should be thankful”, he finally hisses.
“Thankful!? YOU should be sorry!”
“Yeah, I’m sorry for saving you…you…you ungrateful thing!”
“I could have saved myself”, you argue.
“Oh, is that so?”
No, absolutely not. You would have died if it wasn’t for the wind hashira.
“Everything was under control”, you snap at him.
Nothing was under control. This was your last way out of your misery.
“Is it so hard to just be thankful?”, he argues.
“Who’s your new friend, Shinazugawa?”
“We aren’t friends”, both of you reply at once.
Your heavy breath hangs in the air, hands still clenched into fists. Deep down you know how wrong it is to snap at him, that the demon slayer corps aren’t responsible for the countless lives the demons took in this area. But still…Why does it have to be you they saved? Why not the girl next door who would have married the next day or the girl that was supposed to leave only days after she got killed? It’s not fair, it’s not enough, it’s-
You take a heavy step back when your vision starts to get foggy.
“I won’t catch that brat if she faints now”, the wind hashira grumbles.
“We both know you will.”
The last thing you see are his purple eyes before you fall straight into deep darkness.
-a few days later-
“She’s awake now, Shinazugawa. And she asked for you.”
He hates the way his heart skips a beat by hearing those innocent words from Shinobu. You didn’t leave his head. Despite the state of Oyakata-sama, despite the hashira training, despite the stinging fact that the king of demons himself will come for them, you were always on his mind. You, with your strong but feminine eyes. You, who jumped out of a window into certain death only to keep your body away from the mouths of these demons. You, who straight up slapped him. Was it your attitude that caught him off guard? He never experienced a woman saved by him being this ungrateful. Aren’t you aware of the fact that you would have died that night if it wasn’t for him?
“What do you want, brat?”
His words come out harsher than anticipated while your sight simply takes his breath away. Since he can remember, Sanemi was never interested in any women romantically. No, love is nothing but weakness, women mean nothing but trouble. But even though you glare at him with venomous eyes the second he enters the room, he can’t help but feel drawn towards you.  
“You’re a hashira, right?”
Your words sound just as harsh as his, your gaze meeting his with so much strength that it is him who starts to feel uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I already told you that-“
“Train me”, you interrupt him.
“I want to become a demon slayer and kick your ass.”
“You, kicking my ass?”
You grab the fabric of his uniform so roughly that he isn’t able to react, suddenly so close to you that he can feel the heat radiating from your body.
“Train me.”
“Fine brat. I’ll train you. But don’t think I’ll go easy on your ass.”
-bonus-
“Try to keep up, (y/n).”
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His katana clashes into yours over and over, makes it hard to stand your ground. But still you fight back, your hands holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. You just have to win. There is absolutely no way you’ll lose against your master again.
Especially since he’s your lover.
“Are you tired yet?”, he teases you with a smirk.
“Absolutely not”, you press out while dodging another hit just in time.
This won’t help. If you continue to fight like this, he’ll sweep you off your feet like all these countless times before. But what are you supposed to do? It almost seems as if Sanemi has no weakness.
Except you.
“But you’ll be when I’m done”, you purr.
That sudden change of mood catches him completely off guard, forces him to hesitate for the split of a second.
Enough for you to sweep him off his feet, your body resting on top of his while your blade hangs into his face.
“I won”, you announce triumphally.
“You cheated”, he protests underneath you.
“Demons play dirty as well. You need to be prepared for everything-“
All it takes his one swift motion for him to position himself on top of you, body forcing you onto the ground before you’re able to catch a breath.
“Imma show you how dirty playing really works, then.”
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345 @komelrebi-san
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jpmarvel90 · 9 months
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Grief
Masterlist Natasha Masterlist
Relationship: Natasha x Reader, Sister Wanda x Sister Reader
Summary: After Clint's death, Natasha falls of the rails and her marriage is at stake.
Word Count: 6554
Y/n’s POV:
When Clint died, it affected everyone in the team. But most of all, it affected his best friend, Nat. After his funeral, Nat started to withdraw from everyone, including me, her wife. Her walls went up and she almost went into self-destruct mode. I barely saw her. She would be out all-night doing God knows what. Most of the mornings when she would eventually come back home, she was drunk or high.
She had stopped working, which was for the best anyway as she wasn’t in the right mind set for it. But work was always her outlet when things got rough for her. I barely saw her and when I did, she would talk to me. I was lucky if I got a good morning or goodbye. She would never tell me where she was or where she was going. At first I would wait up for her, terrified something had happened, then she would come in to bed in the early hours, not even addressing the fact she had been out all night.
Eventually, I would be asleep before she came in and then she would be gone before I woke up. I felt helpless that I couldn’t help her. I would try to get her to open up, but she would just ignore me. We started to argue more, something we had rarely done. If we disagreed, we would always talk about it. Even if we didn’t end up agreeing, it would rarely end up in a fight. Now, it seemed like just saying good morning would get a rise out of her.
The team were worried too, and they had all tried to help her as well. But it was no use. I spent so much time talking to my sister Wanda about how I was worried that she was slipping away. But she would encourage me to be patient and just be there so when she was ready to talk, she knew I was there to listen. But she was becoming nasty and the worst she got, the harder it became.
I would tell myself that she had lost her best friend, the man that saved her life and gave her a second chance to fight for what was right. If I ever lost Wanda, I would be devastated and know that I wouldn’t cope. I was Natasha’s wife. It was my job to be there for her, for better or for worse. But it looked like better was never going to make its way back again.
It was late on a Tuesday evening when Natasha stumbled through the door to our house. The smell of alcohol seeped off her and she looked a mess. When looked closer, I could see lipstick on her neck. I felt my heart constrict at the sight, but I wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions. “Nat, where have you been?” I asked calmly, making way towards her. She just started to giggle. “I wanted a drink.” She slurred out, pushing past me to the stairs.
I followed her and watched as she stumbled around trying to get herself ready for bed. I knew there was no use in talking to her now. She was drunk and probably wouldn’t hear anything I had to say anyway. So, I waited. I sat up in bed and waited until she woke up a few hours later. One thing about Nat was she never got a hangover so was always ready to function the next day. She looked at me surprised when she saw me awake and watching her. I heard her sigh, but we needed to talk. It had been 6 months since Clint died and she was getting worse. I know she is grieving but this isn’t healthy, and I hate not being able to help her. What sort of a wife isn’t able to comfort the person they love?
“Where were you last night?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and low, not wanting to frustrate her. But it didn’t work. “I was just out for a drink.” She said coldly, making her way to the bathroom. “Please Nat, I’m worried about you. I want to help you.” I said trying to contain the emotions. “I don’t need your help Y/n. I’m fine.” She huffed, doing everything to ignore looking in my direction.
“I know you’re hurting, and I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling, but you can’t keep doing this. It’s unhealthy.” I said and I could tell she was starting to get angry, but I wasn’t planning on backing down today. “Exactly, you don’t know what I’m feeling so just back the fuck off.” She spat, shoving past me to leave.
I ran down the stairs and blocked the door so she couldn’t leave. “Natasha, I’m your wife. I’m not going to force you to talk to me, but please talk to someone. You need help. I’m worried about you. I don’t know where you go and then you come home drunk and last night you came home with lipstick on you.” I said frustrated, my resolve breaking.
She slammed her keys down on to the counter and walked towards me not breaking eye contact. “I do not need you telling me what to do. Being my wife doesn’t give you some special pass to know everything about me. And the so what, I was having fun last night. Isn’t that a good thing?” She said with an evil smirk on her face. “Fun with someone else is that what you mean?” I ask, almost at a whisper, terrified of her answer.
She paused for a moment before answering. “Yeah, someone who doesn’t badger me at every minute of the day.” She said it so casually, and I felt my heart shatter. She cheated. “I mean that little to you, that you would go and cheat?” I asked. “This just isn’t working anymore Y/n. Neither of us are happy. Let’s just cut our loses whilst we can.” Her words were cold and callous. “Nat, you don’t mean that. We’re married, we’ve been together for 8 years. You’re grieving and if you need space, then I’ll give it to you. But please, this isn’t the end for us.” I argued, tears filling my eyes.
“Well, maybe 8 years was enough. This isn’t the grief talking Y/n. I can’t do this anymore. I think we should break up.” She said, not making eye contact anymore. I felt sick and my legs were shaking. “Break up? You want a divorce?” I asked in shock, and she just nodded. I was speechless. I looked at her and I knew that there was nothing that I could do. I moved away from the door and walked away from her, tears streaming down my face.
When I heard the door close, as she left, I fell to my knees and broke down. I couldn’t believe that the woman that I had fallen in love with could do that to me. Not wanting to stay in this house any longer, I grabbed my bags and filled them with my clothes and anything I wanted to take with me. Which wasn’t much as I didn’t want the memories of this anymore. I locked the door and push my key through the letter box. I packed up my car and made my way to the compound.
I was greeted by Jarvis, and I asked where Tony was. As usual he was in his lab. I was making my way there when Wanda saw me and chased after me, trying to find out what’s wrong. “Y/n/n, please slow down. Have you been crying?” She asked as I ignored her and found Tony. “Y/n what do I owe the pleasu…. Y/n, oh God what’s wrong” He asked, his voice turning to one of concern. “Can I move back in please?” I asked with no emotion to my voice.
Both him and Wanda looked at me confused. “This place will always be your home, but what about Nat?” Tony asked and I felt myself shudder at her name. “She’s asked for a divorce.” I stated and they both gasped. Wanda pulled me into a tight hug. “She’s just grieving Y/n she didn’t mean it.” Tony tried to comfort me, but it was no use. I shook my head. “She said it wasn’t that. She wasn’t happy and she um. She cheated last night.” I shared and I felt Wanda’s grip on my arm tighten. I looked up to see her eyes going red. “I’m going to kill her.” She said but I grabbed her hand.
“No Wanda. It’s not worth it. Clearly, I was stupid to ever believe that she ever truly loved me. I never should have let my walls down.” Wanda’s eyes calmed and she looked at me with pity. “Please don’t put them back up Y/n. I can’t see you like that again.” She pleaded but it was too late. I didn’t plan to let anyone back in. “Tony, could you give me a number of a divorce lawyer? I’d rather get this done and out of the way so we can move on.” I explained.
I noticed his eyes move towards Wanda with concern, but I ignored it. “Sure, I’ll email you the details for when you’re ready.” She offered with a kind smile. I thanked him and made my way to my car to grab my bags. Wanda helped as we unpacked my things in silence. I had never felt so lost and hurt. Wanda could feel the pain I was in, and I could tell it was hurting her to see it. I started to block off my mind, not wanting her to her my thoughts. The first step to building my walls back up.
Third Person POV:
The team were shocked by Natasha’s actions. They barely saw her anymore, but how she so callously broke up with Y/n was something none of them expected. Natasha had never been happier than when she was with Y/n. They all knew she was hurting, but to cheat on Y/n and ask for a divorce was a complete shock. Although they understood that Natasha was grieving, many of them were angry at her.
Y/n had done nothing but be there for Natasha. She had never pushed, and she had taken every argument and insult that Natasha would throw at her in the heat of the argument. She stayed when many people would have left. Instead of working to get better for her wife, she pushed her away and did the one thing that was unforgivable. She broke Y/n’s trust the moment she decided to cheat. The team didn’t recognise Natasha anymore and they didn’t know what to do. They only person they thought that could get through to her was slowly falling into their own pit of depression.
Y/n thought she was being strong by hiding her feelings and focusing back on work. But the team could see past it. They knew she was hurting, and it pained them that they couldn’t help. When Y/n and Wanda joined the team, both of them struggled to settle in. But Y/n found it harder. She had spent more of her life in Hydra, and it took years before she was the fun, caring and loving person that the team grew to know. They were terrified that she was going to fall back to being that broken girl that joined the team 10 years ago.
Everyone was shocked when Y/n got divorce papers so soon. They thought she would give Nat time to realise her mistake, but Y/n was beyond hurt now and was doing everything she could to protect what as left of her heart. Wanda was most worried. Not being able to understand how Y/n was feeling scared her. Even in Hydra when Y/n would block Wanda from her mind, she still spoke to her. But this time she had totally shut herself off.
Y/n threw herself into missions and was nearly always away from the compound. For Fury it was great. Her success rate was high, and she never complained regardless of what the mission was. He started to use the fact that she was hurting to his advantage, which frustrated, Tony, Steve and Wanda. But Y/n passed all evaluations and was will which didn’t really given them a leg to stand on to stop it.
On team missions, it was clear that Y/n was reckless. Not with the safety of others or the success of the mission, but with her own life. On multiple occasions she would come back with some form of injury, but it wouldn’t stop her. Y/n main focus was to get the job done and protect Wanda. The last person that she truly cared for.
She still loved the team, but Wanda had been there her whole life. Y/n would do anything to make sure her sister came home in one piece, regardless of the cost. Wanda was the last person Y/n could lose. She knew she would never come back from that if she did. Y/n would rather die if it meant that Wanda survived.
It was a solo mission that ultimately brought trouble for Y/n. Fury had underestimated the forces that Y/n would go up against and within a few hours, Y/n was missing. Steve was leading comms from the compound and her tracker and comms were down. There was no sign of her. Tony started to do all he could to find her, whilst Steve had to have the difficult conversation with her sister.
He found Wanda in the common room reading when he took a seat next to her. She looked up and instantly her eyes started to gloss over. “Its Y/n isn’t it.” She said before Steve could say anything. He nodded sombrely. “She’s missing. Tony and SHEILD are doing everything they can to find her.” He explained and Wanda broke down. Steve was quick to pull her into his arms to hold her. “I can’t lose her Steve. She’s all I’ve got. I should have done more. She was hurting and I couldn’t help. My own sister. I let her go back to closing herself off and now she’s gone.” Wanda cried into Steve’s shoulder who tried to keep her calm.
“You did everything you could Wanda. Do not blame yourself. No one could have helped her in the state she was in. You being there was what she needed, and you did that. This was just her way of coping.” She consoled. “I’m terrified Steve. My sister can’t be dead.” She sobbed. “Y/n is dead?” both Steve and Wanda’s head shot up, anger filling the witch’s eyes when she saw the source of the voice.
Nat’s POV:
Losing Clint was the hardest thing I’ve had to go through. He was the reason I was able to make a difference and start to clear my ledger. He made a choice to save me and give me a second chance. One that lead to me gaining a family and a job that allowed me to make a difference. He was the reason I met my wife.
I knew I was pushing everyone away, but I couldn’t help it. I could feel the grief consume me and I was angry at everyone. So, I didn’t what I did best, I ran from my feelings. I knew I was hurting Y/n but in my mind, I didn’t care. I knew she would be there for me when I got my shit together. She didn’t push me at the start, and I was grateful for that. But then she would question where I was more, and I didn’t want to talk about it. So, I pushed her even further.
I started to dread coming home and seeing her. Our relationship wasn’t the same anymore. I know it was my fault but in the heat of the moment, I decided I wasn’t prepared to do that anymore. So, I did something I never thought I would do. I broke her trust and then asked for a divorce. I could see her heart break but the grief I was feeling was selfish and I didn’t care. So, I left.
If I had not been so fucking stupid, I would have seen that Y/n had done everything I needed to work through my grief. I was just too stubborn to do what I needed to. I let it consume me and I didn’t care who I hurt along the way. Even if that was my wife. The woman that I adored with all my heart. The woman I would die for. I was an asshole.
I lied to her. I didn’t cheat. Well, I guess technically you could say I did. I kissed another woman, then as it started to go further, I realised what I was doing and stopped it. I couldn’t do that to Y/n, even if I couldn’t see that everything else I was doing was toxic towards her.
After going on a 3-day bender, I found myself at the door of Clint’s old house, knocking. Laura opened the door with a smile which dropped when she saw my state. “Natasha, what are you doing here?” She asked a little shocked. I hadn’t seen her since the funeral. I could face her knowing that Clint was gone. Clearly my subconscious had brought me here. “I uh. I don’t really know.” I told her honestly and she was quick to pull me inside.
She made a pot of coffee and we talked for a while. I apologised for not being around. But she said that she was doing good. She had her good days and her bad, but she was strong for the kids, and they were finally started to heal as they knew that Clint wouldn’t want them to be stuck in a cycle of grief.
Her words hit home with me. If his wife and kids could move on with their grief, why couldn’t I? “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.” Laura said with a smirk, but worried eyes. “Yeah, I’ve not really been dealing with everything so well.” I explained and she nodded. “So I’ve heard.” She responded and I looked at her confused. “I see the team regularly. Tony told me that you and Y/n aren’t together anymore.” She said and I was shocked that she knew.
“I must say, you’re a fucking idiot.” She said and it shocked me. “What?” I asked confused. “You let go, well pushed away, someone as great as Y/n. I never too you for the cheating type Natasha. I know you’ve been grieving but you were selfish. Grief doesn’t give you a free pass to hurt someone else.” She scolded me and my eyes dropped to my hands in embarrassment. “We weren’t in a good place. We were fighting all the time and it seemed like the right decision.” I defended.
“Well, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought. Y/n was terrified that she was going to lose you. That you’d end up hurt or worse. She did everything that you wanted until it was becoming too much. Then you broke her trust for what? Because she cared too much about you to let you throw away your life as you were doing. You know, Clint didn’t save you for you to fall back to your old habits.” She said sternly. She really wasn’t letting me off the hook here.
“I would do anything to have even one more minute with Clint. Yet you are happy to throw away the one good thing in your life?” She questioned and I could see the hurt in her eyes. “If you want to self-destruct, fine. But breaking someone who worked so hard to build themselves up is unacceptable. Life is short, don’t throw it away.” As she spoke, it was like a movie reel was playing in my head of all the horrible things I had done to Y/n over the last 6 months. Then I saw everything good thing she had ever done for me. I was a coward, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to fix what I’ve broken.
I spend the next couple of weeks with Laura. She helped me to get my shit together. Spending time with her and the kids help me to come to terms with losing Clint and finally being in a position I could move on and honour Clint in the way he deserved. I had to make myself better not just for me, but for my wife. I eventually went back home ready to fix things with Y/n. Firstly, I needed to explain to her what really happened that night.
I opened the door to our house, and it struggled to open as there was a pile of post. I picked it all up and was surprised when I saw a key underneath it all. I picked it up and realised it was Y/n’s key. I called out to her, but knew she wasn’t here as her car was gone. I made my way up to our room and saw all of her things were gone. I don’t know what I was expecting. I asked her for a divorce, so of course she wasn’t going to wait for me anymore.
After clearing up a bit, I started making my way through the mail and paused when I got to a large A4 envelope. I opened it and felt my heart complete shatter. It was divorce papers. Fuck, I was too late. I grabbed my keys and made my way to compound. I knew she’d have gone back there to be with Wanda.
Tears were falling down my cheeks the whole way there. I can’t believe that I hurt the one person I love more than life itself. How could I let my grief get to the point I was willing to let her go? When I got to the compound I ran as quickly as I could to find her but was greeted by a sobbing Wanda in the common room. Steve was holding her, and I could tell that he was holding back tears as well.
Then I heard the words that shattered my world. “I’m terrified Steve. My sister can’t be dead.” Wanda sobbed and I couldn’t believe what I had heard. I was speaking before I even knew it. “Y/n is dead?” I asked. They both looked up at me and I could see how angry Wanda was. Her eyes had turned red. She stood up and marched over to me and before I knew it, I was on the floor with a bloodied nose and Wanda stood over me.
Ok I deserved that. Jeeze she packs a hell of a punch. “This is all your fault! You were so selfish that you pushed her to her limit.” Wanda screamed at me. I could hear the pain in her voice. What had happened? Where was Y/n? Was she actually dead? I had all these questions flying around my head, but the words didn’t come out. At my silence, Wanda started to generate an energy ball. I prepared myself for the impact, but it never came.
I looked up and saw Wanda’s hands drop to her side, the energy ball extinguished. She fell to her knees, heart breaking sobs leaving her. I sat up and pulled her towards me. I hated seeing her like this. She fought my comfort but eventually gave in. When she had calmed down, she pulled away, the anger had replaced the sadness that filled her eyes a moment ago. “If anything happens to Y/n, I’ll never forgive you.” She said coldly and walked off.
Steve was looking at me like I’d never seen before. He was disappointed but also hurt. “Steve, where’s Y/n? What is going on?” I asked needing to know what was actually happening. Steve went on to explain what had happened and the guilt was just continuing to grow. “She shut down Nat. It was like she was when she first got here. Her only priorities were missions and protecting Wanda. I know you were grieving, but I never thought you’d ever be able to do what you’ve done to her.” I couldn’t respond to him. I knew exactly what I had done and how unforgivable it was. I just had to hope that Y/n would come back safe to try to fix this.
For the next two weeks we all worked as hard as we could to find Y/n. We attacked numerous Hydra bases in the hopes we’d get more information, but it was useless. The more time that went on the more we realised, it was a high possibility that Hydra didn’t have her and that she had been hurt, or worse, in a fight with them.
Over these weeks, I had slowly been able to gain the others trust back. Wanda still hated me, and I didn’t blame her for that, but we worked well together. We both had the same drive and we understood how the other was feeling. We often would end up in the kitchen late at night talking about what was going on in our heads. “When I lost Pietro, I thought I would never get out of the darkness, but Y/n was there guiding me back to the light. When she started throwing herself into missions, I knew it was only a matter of time before something would happen. I tried everything I could to get to her, but she had shut me out. I failed her.” 
I watched the turmoil on Wanda’s face. I hated that I had caused Y/n to close herself off to the world again. “Wanda, it’s not your fault. I broke her when I promised I never would. She cares for you, and she would hate that you are blaming yourself.” I try to comfort her. She sniffles and nods in acknowledgement. “Why did you do it?” She asked quietly but her eyes were boring into me.
I took a breath. “It’s a shit excuse, but with all the fighting we were doing, I convinced myself that we were coming to an end, and it was best to end it. I was too lost to realise that I was the cause of all the fighting and Y/n was just trying to help. When I came home to find the divorce papers, it felt like my world stopped. I took her for granted thinking that she would always be there no matter how horrible I was.” I explained. I was waiting for another punch or yelling but nothing came.
Wanda looked at me with sad eyes. “Is that why you cheated?” She asked and was quickly shaking my head. “I didn’t cheat. Well not like she thinks. I lied.” I said and I saw a hint of anger in Wanda’s eyes. “You lied about cheating?” She asked clearly not believing me, but I quickly told her to go into my mind and see what really happened that night. When her eyes returned to their normal emerald green she sighed. “I’m terrified that I’m going to lose her, like I lost Clint, but she won’t know that I’m sorry and I truly love her. She’s my light, my life. I can’t live in this world without her.” I started to cry and was shocked when Wanda comforted me.
“You broke her walls down once, maybe you can do it again.” She said calmly. “You really think she’d let me back in?” I asked surprised. “There was one emotion she couldn’t shut off from me the last few weeks, her love for you. It was so strong she couldn’t block it off. That doesn’t mean that she’ll forgive you, but I know she got the papers to protect herself. She thought it would stop the pain, but it didn’t.” She explained and I felt a small bit of hope.
The next morning, I was woken by Steve rushing into my room. “The quinjet is about to land. Y/n is on it.” He said out of breath. I shot out of bed and ran with him to the landing pad. “Do we know how she is?” I asked, wanting to be prepared for what we were about to see. “No, Fury’s team found her but there was no report of her condition.” He shared. We arrived and I stood next to Wanda, taking her hand in mine to give her comfort.
We could hear an argument from the back of the yet. “Y/n, you need to go to the medbay, please just get on the gurney.” We could hear Bruce say frustrated. “I’m fine Bruce, I don’t need a bed. My legs will be able to carry me to the medbay and I’ll let you do what every you need to do.” Hearing her voice was a relief and I could hear Wanda let out a big of a chuckle. As Y/n appeared at the back of jet, I noticed that she was covered in cuts and bruises and her shirt was saturated in blood.
Bruce was walking next to her, helping her as she limped her way over towards us. Wanda was quick to let go of my hand and made her way to Y/n. She was hesitant but still pulled her into a hug. “You scared the shit out of me! Don’t you dare do that again.” She scolded, but Wanda was quick to hug her again. “Here, let me help you.” Steve said, jogging over to help Bruce get Y/n to the medbay.
My heart rate was increasing with every step closer they took. Then our eyes met and for a brief moment it was like I couldn’t breathe. “As if getting shot wasn’t bad enough.” She muttered under her breath, but loud enough that I could hear. I followed as they took her to the medbay and watched as they started to patch her up. Wanda stayed with her whilst the rest of us observed from the waiting area.
Once he was done, Bruce came out to give us an update. “She’s doing good. Bullet wound to her shoulder and abdomen, but both were through and throughs. She did a good job of keeping them clean and stemming the bleeding until she was found. She got some small injuries such as broken ribs, fractured eye socket and a few broken fingers. But they’ll heal over time. She’s lucky.” She explained and we thanked him before making our way into the room. I took my place next to Y/n and couldn’t hold back anymore.
I grabbed her hand between mine. “Thank God you’re ok. I was so scared.” I said through tears. She turned to look at me, but her eyes were empty. Wanda was right, she had closed herself off again. She didn’t respond to me, but she also didn’t take her hand away. “What happened?” Wanda asked from her seat next to Y/n’s bed. “Mission went sideways. I was able to fight them off as best I could before I got hit. Thankfully I was able to get away. But the bleeding was too much so I took shelter in an abandoned hut. I was in and out of consciousness for a while and with no comms I had no way to call for help. Eventually I was found by a hunter and his son. They helped me get in contact with Fury and now I’m here.” She summarised.
Wanda held her hand tighter and ran her hand through Y/n’s hair. “I thought I lost you. Please, you have to be more careful and stop taking so many missions.” She pleaded. We were all surprised when Y/n agreed so easily. The team started to disperse, saying their goodbyes leaving just Wanda, Y/n and me. Wanda looked between us and stood up to leave. “I’ll come back later with some dinner.” She said but Y/n wouldn’t let go of her hand. I could tell they were having a conversation in their minds and obviously Wanda won when Y/n let go of her hand.
I sat in silence for a moment thinking about what to say, but it turns out I didn’t have to. “Have you signed the papers yet?” She asked coldly. Her words were like daggers to my heart. “No, and I don’t plan to.” I responded and she scoffed. “You were the one that wanted a divorce Natasha, just sign them and we can move on.” She retorted, not making eye contact with me once.
I know Y/n more than I know myself. I can always get a pretty good read on her. I thought it would be difficult if she had closed herself off, but I could tell she was in so much physical pain, that she wasn’t able to fight to keep those walls up right now. And I knew she didn’t really want me to sign the papers. She’s trying to protect herself. “I don’t want to move on. I want to make things right with my wife.” I said firmly. “Ex-wife.” She muttered and once again her words hurt. But I deserved it.
“You’re not my ex-wife. We’re not divorced yet and I don’t plan of letting that happen.” I insist. “If you don’t sign them, I’ll go through the courts if I have to. I have grounds for divorce. You cheated on me. My lawyer said that I can proceed with that alone.” She explained and I realised just how much she had done in a short space of time. “Well, I didn’t cheat, your grounds are gone. So how about you just talk to me for a moment before trying to force through a divorce that neither of us want.” I kind of shouted and I saw her flinch slightly.
“Don’t lie Natasha, you’ve already hurt me enough, please just stop.” She said, her voice cracking. “I’m not lying. I did kiss another woman that night. I was drunk and then as she wanted more, I stopped it. I didn’t sleep with her because even in my drunk ass state, I couldn’t do that to you. You don’t know how much I regret even kissing her, let alone then letting you believe that I cheated on you. Wanda read my mind, she can show you that I’m not lying.” I quickly explain hoping she’ll believe me.
“Then why did you say you did? Did you just want to hurt me?” She asked and I hated my response, but I had to be truthful. “At the time yes. I was angry and I thought the only way I could process everything was in my own stupid way. I was frustrated when you would try to help so I just pushed you away and then lied so I could get you to leave me.” I said shamefully, unable to keep eye contact. I could hear her sniffling and it was killing me knowing I was causing her pain all over again.
I then heard shuffling as she started to get out of bed, pulling off the wires attached to her body. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” I said jumping out of my seat to push her back into the bed. “I can’t stay here right now. My own wife just admitted that she wanted to hurt me. When all I had ever done was try to help her through her grief. I took every harsh word you ever said to me because I knew you were hurting, and you didn’t mean it. It was more important that I was there for you. But that night, I looked in your eyes and I could tell you did mean it. My wife, my Natasha, would never have treated ANYONE like that regardless of what she was going through.” She was crying and she was angry, and she was right.
I fight with her a little to make sure she stays in her bed. I can’t have her hurt herself anymore. “Please just stay here. You’ll make your injuries worse. If you want, I’ll leave and give you space.” I tried to bargain with her. She huffed and dropped back on the bed, giving a slight hiss in pain. “I don’t want space. I want to stop feeling all this pain. I want to stop feeling like the world is slowly falling from underneath me. I can’t do this until you let me move on. So just sign the god damn papers.” She almost yelled.
I did this too her. I caused this pain and turmoil by being selfish. But I wasn’t going to give up on her. “I’m not signing the papers.” I insisted once again. “I made you a promise on our wedding day that I would fight for us through anything. I broke that promise which I will never forgive myself for. But I still plan on living by that promise now. There is no one else like you in this world. You make me feel whole and without you there is just darkness. I let myself get lost in grief and used it as an excuse to act out. I know that you still love me. I also know that you are trying to protect yourself because you think that I’ll just end up hurting you again. So let me make one more promise to you that I will never break. I will never stop loving you and I will never hurt you again. Just please give me one more chance.”
I’m pleading to her through my own tears and every minute of silence is slowly killing me. I’m losing her, I’ve fucked up and I’m going to lose her. “Please, what can I do to get you to give me one more chance.” I begged. She sighed but looked up at me. “Go to therapy. You need to process what happened with Clint before you can commit to our marriage again. You need to help yourself before you can help me.” She said and I nodded along in agreement. “Anything for you. I’ll get myself sorted and I’ll be the best wife that you deserve. But you need to make me a promise.” I said, hoping I wasn’t crossing a line.
She raised and eyebrow at me but encouraged me to carry one. “Stop closing yourself off and going on dangerous missions to deal with your own pain. Wanda won’t cope if she loses you and I need my funny, caring, and loving wife.” I explained and she looked down to her lap, but she eventually nodded.
I sat on the side of her bed and pulled her towards me and placed a kiss on her head. “We’ll get through this. I’ll make everything up to you and we’ll be back to where we were. Ready for the rest of our lives together and maybe starting that family we talked about.” I said hesitantly, hoping she still wanted the same things that I did. “I love you, Tasha.” Those simple words brought warmth to my heart, and I started to sob into our embrace before responding “I love you too my Angel.”
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hellcat8908 · 2 months
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Love Lost Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Miscarriage, Emotional Hurt, Angst
All it took was the loss of your unborn child to create a rift in your relationship with Azriel. The moment Madja broke the news, he shut down and, by doing so, shut you out. You were left to process the grief and guilt by yourself as Azriel found every excuse to be gone. He always came home late and left early. He hadn't touched you in weeks and could barely look at you.
You tried to get him to come back to you in the beginning, but it always ended in a fight with him walking out. You eventually gave up and hoped he would work through it on his own. The bond you shared had grown dark and cold on both ends. You knew you were standing at a fork in the road but refused to make a choice, leaving you stuck. Azriel made the decision for you without even realizing it.
You were visiting Feyre and Nesta at the river house. Azriel was with Rhys and Cassian in the study. You were drinking tea and talking about books when you heard shouting from the study. Feyre and Nesta started walking towards the commotion with you behind. "She needs you!" Rhys shouts. "Stay out of my relationship! Just give me the assignment and let me be on my way!" Azriel shouts back. "No, you're not working until you deal with your grief!" Rhys states, noticing Feyre and Nesta enter.
You linger in the hall not wanting to make matters worse. "What's going on?" Feyre asks. "Rhys needs someone to check on the camps but won't send me!" Azriel says lowering his tone towards Feyre. She studies him for a minute, "Az, I don't think..." she starts to say but stops when you step into the room. "Let him go, if he wants." You say as everyone looks at you, well everyone but him. "Are you sure?" Rhys asks. "You can't be serious?!" Cassian and Nesta say in unison. "Let him." You say before turning away and leaving, not caring to hear anymore.
You make your way home and settle in on the couch. A while later, the door opens, and Azriel walks in. You ignore him as he moves about grabbing what he needs. "What were you doing at the river house?" He asks. "I was visiting Feyre and Nesta." You answer. "Don't you have other friends? Friends who aren't a part of my family." He says. "Your family?!" You shout as anger builds up inside of you. "They're my family too. They've been more of a family to me than you have lately." You say. "You so selfish! You can't just let me have one thing, can you?!" He shouts.
"You're seriously calling me selfish? Maybe you should look in the mirror." You say. "You're the most selfish person I know y/n!" He says. "Oh yes, I'm so selfish to sit back and watch you pine over Elain when it was killing me, or when I'm not sure you'll make it home alive but don't beg you to stay because of how much you love this court and your family, or how selfish of me to lose your unborn child!!!" You scream as tears flood your eyes. "I'm so selfish to stay here and give you space to grief while I barely hold myself together. Go on your mission, Azriel, bury yourself in work, and keep ignoring me. When you walk out that door, though, just remember you made the decision."
His anger building at your words, too upset to fully understand the subtle ultimatum you gave him. He crosses to the door and walks out before soaring towards the sky. You feel the last of your heart break. After the tears have dried up, you quickly pack a bag of clothes before writing a note.
Azriel,
I can not do this anymore. You made your choice, and by doing so, you've made mine. I hope someday you'll be able to deal with your grief in a healthy way. I know you love me once, and I love you, but now love isn't enough anymore, not for us.
- y/n.
You leave the note on the counter with the dagger you planned to give him after the baby had been born. You take one last look at the house before you winnowed to autumn. Eris had agreed to let you stay after you had reached out to him, knowing it might come to this, no matter how badly you had hoped it wouldn't.
Next Part: 2
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matan4il · 6 months
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Daily update post:
Even more than two weeks after the massacre of over 1,400 Israelis, the worst for Jews since the Holocaust, we're still seeing a rise in antisemitism globally:
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A Jewish woman, who was also a leader in her community, was found stabbed to death right outside her house. Twenty seven hour later, the Detroit police still don't have a suspect or motive, but it's hard not to suspect a connection to the toxic antisemitic atmosphere of the past two weeks.
An Israeli elite unit (Maglan) has started using a new weapon, called "steel sting." It's a double guided smart bomb, meant to deliver a more precise impact when fighting in residential areas, so as to minimize damage to unrelated individuals.
There are currently so many Israelis evacuated or homeless, that Israel is expected to establish a "tent city" for some of them.
The following has been a developing story. First I heard about this Israeli Arab who had donated bikes to kids evacuated from the south, and it made me smile. Then I heard his shop was robbed and burned down for this. Now, it turns out there was as crowdfunding campaign to help him rehabilitate his business. If this isn't solidarity at its finest, in all directions, IDK what is. Feeling real emotional about the good that people ARE capable of...
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I keep going back and forth on whether to share the worst of the worst. As a Nonnie who wrote to me hinted, some people seem to be really enjoying the sight of bound, abused, butchered, raped, maimed and burned Jews. It also goes against the Jewish principle of preserving the dead's dignity. But then again, there's been so much denial of these atrocities. Also, I don't think that people can understand what Israelis are going through without sharing that to us, the information keeps coming out. To Israelis (and many people linked to Israel), Oct 7 has been happening for two weeks now. Here's my compromise. I have a link to a Mega folder with horror videos, including stuff like Hamas terrorists filming themselves beheading people. I will not share it. At least not for now. But I will share this link to an article about the forensic work and the evidence, with the fair warning that even though I've seen worse, some of the pictures are not easy to look at.
The moment I started writing about my pain as an Israeli Jew, I started getting hate. So from that place, where I've personally experienced how even our GRIEF is turned into an opportunity to attack us, I wanna share this message from Jewish actor Brett Gelman on IG:
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(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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