#Like don't get me wrong I had fun leaning into it while outlining the missing chapter

[amtrak12]

I don't really wish this because daydreaming fic is my survival mechanism -- but I do kind of wish that if work is going to wear me out so much that I can't write anything, that it would also make me too worn out to daydream up more fic ideas. Because when I said 'I'd love to write a remix one day', I did not mean 'right this second with the same story I'm also writing a missing chapter for'. And yet -- ONCE AGAIN -- that is what my brain is doing: brainstorming my own take on this 22 year old fic plot just because I interpret the characters differently than the original author. 🫠💀

[phanzon]

Puppet Sisters part 4

Zooble backed away from the smiling figure towering over them. The purple rabbit had not a single piece of ribbon on their body, from their lanky limbs to even their neck. Yet was most unnerving was the wide smile and relaxed pose, as if the previous months of possession and torment had never taken a toll on the bunny. "You look like you've seen a ghoul there Zoobie, is everything okay or are you just seeing things?" Jax said condescendingly as he leaned down and tilted his head. Zooble looked past Jax before looking around the stage for Gangle in vain. She was nowhere in sight, yet her supposed puppet stood there with a @#$% eating grin and zero signs of exhaustion. Despite how much time had passed, one thing was certain: Zooble did not miss this smart ass. "Oh you gotta be $#!&ing me." Jax's smile only gets wider as they pull back one of Zoobles antennas and letting it bounce back into place. "Heh! Is that an invitation?" Zooble squinted in disgust and shoved the mischievous rabbits face back. "Ew, gross! Why are you even here? Where's Gangle?" Jax's smile disappeared as his eyebrows furled in confusion. "Where's Gangle? Hmph, now I know something's wrong with your eyes." Without missing a beat, Jax smiled once more as he pointed at Zooble. "Maybe you can find some glasses in that magical box of crap you got!" Zooble's patience had run out: without saying anything, they clasped down hard on Jax's finger using their claw. "YEEEOWCH!" Tears uncharacteristically came down Jax's face as they winced in pain. "Wha- huh?" As Zooble was taken aback over what, or rather who they heard, "Jax" desperately tried to free himself. "OKAY OKAY I'M- ngh... I mean- I'm sorry, NOW PLEASE LET GO!" With so many thoughts going through their head, Zooble let go of the rabbits finger. Whimpering in pain, Jax stuck stuck their finger in their mouth in a rather pathetic display of weakness. "%$*&! Yeu dident haf do pinch DHAD hard!" Zooble blinked out of their train of thought and huffed, crossing their arms and flipping the bird. "Oh $%&@ off, you know what you did." Jax took his finger out of his mouth and looked at it with a frown. "Yeah... the box comment was a bit too far..." Once again, Zooble was surprised at Jax's sudden softness.

"This... this is getting too strange for me, and frankly I don't think I wanna know what's go-" Suddenly, Caine. "AHHH!" yelled Caine. "AHHH!" yelled everyone else. The not so subtle (nor sane) AI appeared out of thin air above, looking none too pleased. "Well look who finally decided to wake up, good job for at least not staying in a coma!" As Caine floated between the two, Jax's eyelids drooped with little care. "Tch- well maybe we simply wanted some beauty sleep, you have a problem with that?" "We don't even need to sle-" Caine interjected once more. "A problem? No! hahahah! or well... maybe?" Caine wringed his hands together while averting his gaze. "I already a problem trying to convince Zooble to join our adventures. So when more people start to avoid my adventures it kinda insinuates that my adventures aren't... fun, and when they aren't... fun... they aren't... good" Caine floated there staring blankly ahead, filled with existential dread. Zooble instinctively backed away with worry while Jax simply raised his eyebrow. "Umm, anybody home in th-" Without warning Caine flew behind Jax, who flinched and turned towards him. "Home? Oh that reminds me! I need to bring the everyone else home from the adventure! But first, I should give a quick talking-to with Gangle." Jax quickly raised his hands towards Caine in protest. "Uhhh I don't think that's necessary-" Yet it was too late: Caine snapped his fingers... and nothing happened. He looked down and tried again and again, to no avail. "Huh, that usually works..." As Caine tried to summon Gangle however, Zooble had a pretty good view of where she was. Right there, tucked away behind Jax was a small outline underneath his clothes, and a small ruby colored ribbon going upwards, buried in the purple fur, making sure to graze the back of the rabbits neck. "Oh she's pretty close by Caine, I should know: we've become closer than ever before!" Jax said with a genuine smile. "Hmm, alrighty then! can't get too strung up while folks are awaiting!" As Caine flew away to go open the portal, Jax looked behind his shoulder to see Zooble, standing there with fright in her eyes and sweat of uncertainty. His yellow teeth stretched along his face with a twisted smile, radiating his- or rather, her malicious amusement. "Hey, looks like you don't need glasses after all!"

Zooble could barely get a word out. "G-Gangle? wh-wha... H-how-" The figure in front of them simply chuckled. "Ah-ah-ah! Just stand back and let me have a little fun making this ghoul put on a show first." With that, Jax turned away from the speechless Zooble and headed over to greet the rest of the gang. Hidden away, Gangle could hardly contain the adrenaline coursing through her ribbons. Piloting her bunny had never been so easy or thrilling before! Rather than the feeling of having a second body, it was more akin to it being an extension of Gangle's own body and mind. On one hand, Gangle did feel a little bad for acting like a jerk to her friend, but on the other hand it was too much fun putting on a little show for her own amusement. "Welcome back my wonderful contestants, I hope that at least one of you found great fortune on your mind numbing endeavors!" As the three walked out the portal, it was clear who was the true winner: Pomni was covered in soot and had a knife stuck in her back. Ragatha was covered head to toe in custard and was left picking pieces of pie crust out of her hair. Kinger however, fared much better as he dragged a HUGE sack of multicolored cash behind him. With a sly smile, Jax look toward Ragatha "Heh, I always wondered what you'd look like creampied, Raggy~." Not even Gangle could hold back Jax from blushing over what they said, so Ragatha was more than a little flustered. "J-JAX!!! THAT'S DISGUST-ing?" They're anger quickly subsided as they examined Jax from afar, seeing no ribbons attached. "J-j-jax? Is that really you?"

The rabbit smiled and extended their arms out in a welcoming gesture. "Who'd you expect doll face?" It had been so long since Ragatha (or anyone really) saw Jax as himself, not being dragged around like a zombie or too tired to function. It was just Jax as his old self, smile and all. Even if he was a pain in the butt, Ragatha couldn't help but shed a few tears. "JAX!!!!" She darted towards him with her arms out, ready for a warm embrace. Instead, Jax stepped out of the way at the last second and sticking his leg out, causing her to trip with a big SPLAT as the custard made a mess everywhere. "Heheheh! Come on now, I don't want to get your nasty cream on me!" As Pomni ran over to help Ragatha up, Jax made his way over to Kinger. "Now how on earth did you get these fat stacks?" Kinger smiled. "Ohhh I'm glad you asked, it was a huge japanese game show! I...think it had something to do with oiled up ball men and pies." Jax rolled his eyes and took a few loose bills. "Yeahhhh don't care- wait... 'Cainopoly'? Are you kidding me, you didn't even get real money?" Kinger just stood their, blankly. "What money?"

As the others got cleaned up and Kinger went to work shoveling the money into his impenetrable fortress, Pomni looked over to a clearly disturbed Zooble. "H-hey... are you doing alright? Zooble?" Coming back to reality, Zooble looked at Pomni with pained eyes, before looking back at 'Jax' with a scowl. "Hmm? Oh, no... I'm not alright" It was one thing to have the old Jax to pull mean spirited gags, and it was another to see Gangle get her revenge on Jax. But it was disgusting to watch Gangle, someone who Zooble had been there for, pretending to be their former tormentor for fun and toying with other peoples emotions. Especially Ragatha, who fought so hard and pleaded with Gangle to let Jax be. "Why is she doing this?" Listening in, Pomni looked back towards the others with a confused look.

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[velvett-tearss]

Checkmate — Eren Jaeger

summary: A vicious cycle where you and Eren fight over who gets to light the match while dousing each other in gasoline.

warnings: toxic relationship, manipulation, domestic altercation, slut-shaming, gaslighting, cheating, heavy cursing, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol and marijuana use, fem!reader (she/her)

genre: modern au, angst (?)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: my venus scorpio hates to love Eren lmao pls don’t think this is a healthy relationship, (lmk if i forgot any other warnings pls), this was on repeat while i wrote, hope you enjoy it <3 (again, pls lmk if I missed anything!) and stay safe!

You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it anymore, you knew that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you had.

And, all of it was Eren's fault.

He didn't worry about feelings, responsibilities, or duty. He didn't care if he came back later than he said he would you, if he left you waiting in that pretty dress you had picked out just for him.

And, you loathed that about him. You loathed that Eren Jaeger was free. Totally and utterly free of everything and anything. Nothing would hold him back. He wouldn't allow it to come to pass.

He had his freedom, but you had something else.

You questioned things when you weren't satisfied with the answer you had been given. You did things just to see what would happen after. You pushed people just to see how long it would take from them to fall over the edge.

You had often been told you were simply too much to deal with. That you pushed people's buttons until they no longer wanted to be around you. That you stole parts of their sanity until they had no choice other than to run away.

But, you never saw it like that. You didn't mean to be a parasite who ate away at people's peace and patience. You simply liked testing your boundaries.

So, you preferred the word curious.

Maybe Eren had been walking around the earth without shackles his entire life, but you knew everyone was a prisoner to something, even someone like him.

Naturally, you wanted to see what it would take for Eren to break. He was so shameless, so completely free of any care in the world. Eren obeyed his own rules and his alone. He was such an inconsistent asshole half the time, but you couldn't help yourself.

You wouldn't forgive yourself if you had looked away from that charming smile and those pretty teal eyes.

Despite the facade of him being a simple-minded person, you found out what was truly hiding underneath the mask.

Eren was intemperate with a sharp tongue and a loud mouth. He did things his way, and there would be no other option. There was such a mix of emotions boiling inside him, it was like it was asking to be disrupted.

How could you not indulge yourself?

You knew it would be gratifying to see how he would react when backed into a corner. Would he cry like the others? Would he fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness? Or, would he shut down?

How long would it take for him to leave you?

Eren was already known to be hot-headed, and you wondered what it was like to burn. You figured it wouldn't take long to find out how far you could push him. He was the crybaby type, so you didn't think he would be hard to crack.

But, he wasn't like the others.

See, Eren Jaeger wasn't a person who would easily crack. He wasn't the guy who gave up under pressure. In fact, he was the complete opposite. He was a fighter, and he would stop at nothing till victory was his.

It was only too bad for him that you were the same. Your thirst would only be quenched when you saw him break. You needed it more than you had ever needed anything.

You pushed, and he pushed harder. You shouted, and he shouted louder. You bitched and moaned and complained and did awful things to him, and Eren did them right back.

It was an endless cycle between the two of you.

You would do something to tick him off. Maybe it was telling him how Jean looked so sexy in black or how Armin's intelligence was out of this world you didn't know how he wasn't dating anyone.

Perhaps you were a parasite who ate away at your own liberty to do what you wished. You stretched yourself to push him into a corner, and it always worked.

Whatever it was, Eren would explode on you. You knew it pushed his buttons, it fucked with his mind, and that's why you did it. Because maybe it would be the day he finally gave in to the pain you inflicted on him and leave you for good.

Sometimes it would be him doing something that rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps you wore something too short, so he called you a whore before fucking you like one. Or, he didn't answer your texts all night because he was with God-knows-who.

You shouted at him, called him all sorts of different names, and even trashed his apartment if you felt like it. Eren would fight with you, blame you for pushing him far enough as to dip a toe in the unforgiving pool of infidelity, and the two of you wouldn't speak for a week or so.

"I can't even walk around my own damn apartment without you being so annoying!" Eren shouted with so much force you held back a flinch. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, green eyes wondering about the room.

You didn't know if he was shit-faced, high, or a mix of both. You didn't care anymore. It seemed like you had been arguing for hours, but who really knew? All perception of time was lost on you when you were around Eren.

All this started because he asked you to stay the night at his apartment. He usually preferred to go out and have some fun around town, but this was his way of making it up to you for leaving you stranded at the restaurant on your last date.

Well, it was a way for the both of you to make up with each other. Before Eren decided to steal your phone and drive away without you, the waiter serving you had left his number for you. It was only the consequence of your actions earlier that night.

You spent most of the evening flirting with him every chance you got. Batting your eyelashes at him, leaning against the table the slightest so he could get a peak of the dainty little necklace that sat pretty on your cleavage.

He wasn't even that attractive, really — you and Eren both knew that — but he still let his emotions get the best of him. If there was one thing you could trust to be consistent it was his red-hot anger.

"Don't leave when I'm talking to you!" Eren ordered, green eyes blazing hard at the back of your head. He watched you walked around the house, following you to continue your argument. "What? You're gonna go and cry like a little bitch now?"

"Why can't you leave me alone, Eren?!" you screamed, grabbing your sweater and shoving it into your bag. You turned around only to find him inches from your face. "I'm not staying here if you're gonna be a dick!"

He let out a dry chuckle as you continued gathering your things. "What a perfect fucking excuse to go fuck that jerk in your class, right?" Eren hissed, reaching to grab your arm. "Gosh, can't you ever just keep your legs closed for a night?!"

"Keep my legs closed?!" you shot back, shoving him away from you. "You're the one who's been out doing who-knows-what, Eren! You're the one who comes home with lipstick stains from whichever whore you fucked!"

"You shouldn't talk about your friends like that."

You snapped your neck to him.

His face was stony with his jaw clenched, and his hands balled up in fists. None of those things frightened you, though; it was those eyes of him. Those pretty green eyes that had once stared at you so sweetly, so lovingly long ago.

Now, all you could see were glaciers in his irises.

You swallowed down the thick lump in your throat. "You are such a fucking dick." you declared, averting your gaze from his cold one. You advanced to the door, but he caught your arm in his grip again.

"Let go of me." you ordered, attempting to pry his hand off your arm, but he wouldn't budge. "Fuck, Eren. Are you fucking stupid and deaf? I said—"

Your voice got caught in your throat when he shoved you against the wall of his bedroom. He had you caged in, one hand pinning you to the wall and the other right beside you.

It seemed like Eren learned from the last time he tried to keep you from escaping. His last efforts of getting you to stay put were always futile, and you somehow still managed to break away every time.

He always tried to grab you a second time, but you left his cheek with a bright red outline of your palm, smacking him good and hard before leaving his apartment in a fray.

None of your past escapes mattered right now, so you continued squirming around in effort to release yourself from his iron clutch. "Wow, I guess you're not as stupid as you look." you scoffed, your other hand clawing at his.

"Don't be such a bitch." Eren ordered, but you continued your attempts to leave that were only feeble against his strength.

"Why don't you go with your other girlfriends, hmm?" You scoffed, reaching for his wrist and struggling to release your arm. "Tch, Eren, you're fucking hurting me. Stop—"

He brought you towards him, pulling you into his arms. You let out a grunt of disapproval as you tried to shimmy out of his crushing hug. "Oh, my gosh, let me go! I don't want you!" you protested, pushing your hand against his hard chest to create space between you, but he thrusted you back into his chest.

"Don't be such a bitch." Eren murmured into your ear. He had one hand wrapped around your upper back, keeping you close to him, while the other held your wrist tightly to stop you from pushing him away.

His shirt still smelled like the cologne you gifted him for his last birthday. Eren was extra kind to you that day, holding your hand and giving you kisses on the cheek.

The fresh scent was familiar on your nose. You breathed it in, allowing yourself to give in to his touch. "I'm not a bitch." you told him, closing your eyes. You hoped it would help you travel back in time to that beautiful spring day.

He only grunted in response, leaning his head against the top of yours. You felt the slight brush of air down your neck when he let out a sigh. The hand that held your wrist released it, finding purchase on your waist.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you. Eren's fingers found solace in the ends of your hair. You hadn't realized how much his words affected you until you felt your hair twirl around his fingers.

Did he really think you were a bitch? Is that why as much as you loved his cologne, you could still smell the unfamiliar scent of someone else on him?

If he cared about you, why would he leave you alone in his messy apartment all night? Why would he even bother inviting you? Why did he make an effort to speak to you so lovely that your heart fluttered?

"I just wanted to have a nice time with my girl, and you're making that so difficult. Why?" Eren questioned softly, a strand of your hair between his fingers. "Why do you go out of your way to do shit that irritates me?"

Tears prickled your eyes. "I could ask you the same thing." you replied, holding back the urge to sniffle. How could you not cry when he hurt you? You loved him with so much of yourself, and everything he did seemed like it was just to cause you harm.

"You're so mean to me, Eren. You never treat me like you should."

"I know." he said, the movement of his mouth against your head. "I don't mean to treat you like that, baby. I'm sorry. I really am." You didn't believe him, though. You didn't even want to look into his eyes because you feared you would be right.

You let out a sigh, wiping the tear that escaped the corner of your eye on his shirt. "You're bad for me, Eren." you stated, turning your head to rest against his shoulder. "You're a bad guy and a bad boyfriend. You cheat on me and call my names, and you make me cry."

Eren hummed, rubbing your back in circles. "I'll be better. I'll try harder this time." he offered, his tone almost sounding pleading on your ears. "I promise I'll do better for you."

You didn't believe it. Eren couldn't do better. He was sick with an incurable disease. He no longer felt safe in his own body. He couldn't trust his thoughts to lead him to the correct answer. It all started when he met you, and your infection spread throughout his entire system.

You had infiltrated his way of thinking and acting, his way of feeling and speaking. Eren Jaeger would never be the same person he was before he met you.

He couldn't hide his disdain when he was around his friends, not with all the remarks you made of them. Did you really think Jean was better looking than him? Was it his hair?

Maybe he should start spending more time in the library. Would that make him him look smarter in your eyes? Would you come to him for help with your homework or would you still go to Armin?

And, it was in your silence that his questions of doubt were answered. "You don't believe me." Eren stated as if he were reading the very thoughts from your mind.

A bolt of lightning shot through your spine at his tone. This was the side of your boyfriend you hadn't quite figured out yet. He could loving and playful and crack jokes all day, and mean and standoffish where he wouldn’t even look at you, but he could also be fucking sadist.

His fist curled into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back to meet his gaze. There was a sharp ache pounding on the back of your head, but you forgot all about it when you saw the slight curl of his lip.

"No one else would put up with you. You know that, don't you?" Eren asked you, green eyes appearing darker than they ever had. "You know no one would ever give you the time of day like I do."

"I know." you managed to tell him, leaning into where he gripped your hair to ease the pain you felt.

"Do you?" he questioned, raising a brow.

You tried your best to keep the hammering of your heart against your chest from showing on your face. Eren may have been a sadist, but he wasn't the only one.

"Yes, Eren." you stated, deciding to take a risk and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You felt him tense under your touch. "You misunderstand me. I only what what's best for you and me. That's all I ever wanted."

He furrowed a brow at your words.

Sure, you would admit that Eren had power over you. He was stronger than you, taller than you, quicker than you. He was the one who had your back against a wall, and it was your hair in his fist.

But, you had something he didn't. You honed the skill he wouldn't be able to polish for years to come. He may have been overly aggressive and carried the ability to make an environment where he would always be the person with the most power, but you had experience.

And, that was something he couldn’t create.

"I've done so much for you, Eren. Why would I go through all this struggle if I didn't want to be with you?" you explained, forcing a pout on your lips. "Is that how you feel about me?"

His grip on your head began to loosen. "No," Eren forced out, eyebrows so scrunched forward they lost their sharpness. "That's not what I want. I was—"

"If you know that, then why would you stand me up?" you demanded, gazing you at him. "If you know all I want is for you to be happy, why would you start a fight with me? You know I would never hurt you like that, baby."

"I didn't mean to start a fight." Eren admitted, swallowing. "I just don't want you to leave me. I don't want to be alone. I don't know what—"

"I know. You don't have to explain it to me, baby. I know exactly what you're thinking." you told him, reaching for his hand to hold in yours. "It's okay, Eren. I know you wouldn't ever want to hurt me, right?"

He nodded, teal eyes watching as you brought his hand to your pillowy lips. You placed a feathery kiss against his knuckles. It had been so soft, so sweet that he wanted to cry.

He had just had car sex with one of the girls who lived in your dormitory's building, and you were kind enough to give him another chance. He did something that hurt you, and you still only wanted what was best for him.

"I love you." Eren sputtered out. His eyes were wide at you, and his voice sounded like he was begging you for something you refused to give him.

You let out a sweet sigh, eyes snapping to his. "You love me?" you repeated, taking a moment to savor the way the words felt on your tongue. Your brows furrowed at the words. "Do you really?"

He nodded quickly, maneuvering his hand to hold yours. He peppered kisses along your fingers, your knuckles. "I do. I really fucking do. I love you." Eren assured, kissing the inside of your hand before grabbing the side of your face.

You raised a brow as he planted soft, needy kisses along your cheeks. "How much do you love me, Eren?" you inquired, bringing your hand to massage his scalp.

Eren swallowed, looking up at you. He was quiet. You blinked back at him, waiting for his answer. You had been so surprised to find he had nothing to offer you in that moment.

You quirked a brow at his silence. "How much, Eren? How much do you love me?" you repeated, voice advancing from a curious tone to a demanding one.

He shook his head, bringing your lips to meet his gently. He tasted like . . . was it honey? Or was it just how sweet the lies he told sounded on your ears?

You weren't able to tell what his mouth tasted like, but you knew you had earned another spit sister? Had he kissed her the way he kissed you? Did he feed her the same lies he did you? Could she taste him? Was she able to put a finger on what the candied flavor on his lips was?

Eren pulled back from you slightly. You couldn’t tell if it was his turquoise eyes that were glassy or if it was yours. "Too much." he told you, lips brushing against yours. "I love you too much." He collided his face with yours, tongue slipping into your open mouth.

His kisses travelled lower — along your jaw, down your nec. He sucked hard when he found your pulse-point, only stopping once a soft moan escaped your swollen lips.

There really wasn't a way you would ever leave him, even if you tried to. Despite all the fights, all the times you professed your hate for him, all the times you tried tried to break it off, Eren stayed with you.

But, it was the same for him. Even if you hurt him, flirt with his friends right in front of him, cuss him out and manipulate him the way you had already done a profuse amount of times in the past, Eren would always love you. How could he not?

Maybe it was because both of you were equally fucked in the head, or because you both loved the concept of pain whether you be playing the role of the inflicted or inflicter, but in some twisted way, you never wanted to leave him.

Somewhere in the messed up relationship that you two had, you realized you loved him. God, you fucking loved him, even if he treated you like a pet.

And, he was your favorite toy. Yours to use and to lie and to fuck. Whether Eren Jaeger was so free he couldn't help but trample over you, or you were too much, too curious that you pushed him to the very brink and a little more, one thing wouldn't change.

You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it, you figured that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you did.

And, all of it was Eren's fault.

note: welp they were toxic huh

[inactive-luv]

Normal

normal

normal

TW: depression, gender dun dUN DUN

word count: 2216

a/n: i’ve got a lot more gender neutral Spencer Reid fics loading :P

(Spencer's POV)

On a normal day, I would set my alarm for five in the morning and wake up slowly. I'd pour a cup of coffee and make myself some toast. I take a shower and brush my teeth and maybe listen to an audiobook on my way to work. I got this recommendation from Garcia, Ready Player One. I listened to the narrator's voice at a pace 'normal' people would read.

A part of me always felt self-conscious about myself, how I was different compared to everyone else. My mom called me special but that just made things worse. Special still sounds like there was something wrong with me. And that was just my I.Q, later on, I constantly got made fun of for the way I dressed, how I wasn't 'normal' enough. Never 'masculine' enough.

I haven't had a normal day in months. I started to wake up naturally around three am, if I ever slept. My thoughts kept me awake, thinking about the insults and taunts I got. I lay in bed most days. I told Hotch I was sick and stayed in a comatose state for most of the day. I would stare at the ceiling and wonder about myself.

I couldn't do anything. I couldn't eat, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't use the bathroom. The thought of having to stand up in front of the toilet. Washing my hands in a men's restroom, everything just made me sick. I hadn't gone to work in a week. It sounds odd but I didn't feel safe there. Work used to be where I could concentrate and use my abilities to my advantage, I watched and analyzed people's emotions for a living but now, it became so hard to think about myself.

I felt exposed in the workplace, at home I felt more comfortable using my own bathroom and I could wear my own clothes. I felt like someone else in the bullpen, someone different. Having to hear my name makes me feel imaginary. I didn't feel real in my body.

Getting out of bed this morning exhausted me. I dragged my feet across the wood and looked down at my sweater. The temperature in my house was always hot, something with the thermostat, but I couldn't stand looking at my own skin. I wore a thick sweater and a robe on top of it, long pajama pants and big socks. I knew I had to take off these clothes if I wanted to go to work today. I really did, I missed my friends, I missed having to do something.

Having a purpose meant a lot to me. I lost sight of what I was meant to do with my life, I would just mope around my apartment without doing anything and I still felt exhausted. I hated being here, I needed to do something. I couldn't just stay here for the rest of my life. I so desperately wanted my normal life again, but I couldn't even think about stepping outside my house.

I hate thinking about having to do normal things. I hated using public restrooms and wearing my normal clothes. Life becomes meaningless if you can't even look at yourself in the mirror.

A while back I put towels over all of my mirrors, this morning I lifted the one in my bedroom. I looked at myself for the first time in a long time. I looked at my eyes, the bags underneath them screamed tired and disgusting. My whole face looked blue and purple. I saw the veins in my neck, and when I touched them I winced.

Taking a deep breath, I started to remove the robe in front of me. I watched the fabric fall to the floor when I felt the ends of my sweater. A burst of energy filled my gut and flooded through my veins, causing me to haphazardly lift the shirt fully over my head and shimmied my pants off. I felt angry. Angry at myself for not being able to do the easiest things. And sad watching my body shake and my skin crawl.

I forced myself to stare at my chest. I stared long and hard at the flat shape and bare skin. I started to run my hand over my abdomen and I could feel my ribs protrude out of my skin. Tears started to fill my eyes when I glazed over my underwear. I could see the outline of my legs and the thought of what was between them made me sick. I felt like throwing up.

I rushed to the bathroom and clutched at the sides of the toilet. I quickly thought about all of the germs and bacteria and immediately lunged away from the seat. I washed my hands five or six times until my skin curled underneath the stream. I splashed the water on my face and began to sob. I ran my hands over my face and my eyes tinged from the tears.

When my hands roamed their way back to my chest I fell to the floor in a mixture of emotions. I felt depressed, gross, I felt cheated in my own flesh and blood. I felt contained to the bottom of my bathroom sink. The tears relaxed and I started to slowly lift myself off of the cold tile.

I wobbled back to my bedroom and tried to open my drawers. I reached for a dotted shirt and slowly buttoned the clothes on myself. With each button, I sniffed and let out a heavy sigh. I wanted to change my underwear but every time I slid my fingers past the waistband I cringed. I couldn't bring myself to look past my abdomen.

I just tried to pull on a pair of work pants without my eyes and slide a brown belt through the loops. I stared at myself in the dresser mirror and reached for another layer to put on over my body, a brown cardigan. I wanted to smile. I tried to force the corners of my lips to move upward but they only drooped a little lower. I swallowed my tongue and went to get my coat.

...

I walked into the lobby and saw people walking throughout the halls, I felt so out of place. I slowly slumped up to the elevator and pressed the button. It was halfway through the workday, a little after lunch. It was raining so hard outside I could hear it through the elevator walls, I heard the pat pat pat just outside the floors and I started to feel thirsty. I hadn't drunk much water in public because I didn't want to have to use a public bathroom. It wasn't a problem until one day I had to be sent to the emergency room.

I got nervous as the elevator doors began to open. I lifted my head and was relieved not to meet anyone as I stepped out. A sore feeling manifesting itself in my throat. I look up to see everyone in the conference room. I barely catch Rossi's eye when I start to walk up to the bullpen. Soon I can feel everyone's eyes on my back when I rest my bag on the edge of my seat.

J.J. walks out of the room to wave me over. I watch her walk back into the room, I look at her heels and her pretty blouse. I think back to what I'm wearing and feel gross. Why do I keep stressing about these sorts of things? Morgan doesn't worry about how he's dressed. Hotch doesn't care about shoes or what he has to wear. Rossi was the one who probably cared the most and even he didn't notice the things I do.

I rush up the stairs noticing how everyone is waiting on me. My pace slows down as I get closer and closer to the threshold of the conference room. "Hey, pretty boy's here!" I clench my jaw at the sound of that nickname. My stomach turns inside out and I think about just running out of the room and heading back home, or anywhere but here. "Why don't you sit down we were just starting." Garcia tries to talk to me in her sweet voice. I missed her so much, I missed everyone.

"No thank you," I whisper. I hadn't spoken words out loud in a long time. I don't talk to myself and I hadn't seen anyone else in days. I clear my throat gaining a sliver of strength from the anger in my gut. "No thank you I," I start stronger before pausing mournfully again, "I think I need to say a few things before I come back, officially. C- can you all please sit down." I choke in my breath and all of their faces turn worried when they look at me.

"Uhm, I know I haven't been here in a while but uhm," I turn my head to the floor, "I want to be able to come back, I do, and I uh," It gets really hard to talk without tearing up. I swallow hard when J.J tries to pat my arm, I don't mean to but I flinch and try to push her hand away. "I can't come back until," I'm afraid I'll start hyperventilating, "God I'm sorry." I move my hands up to my face and wipe away a few tears before swallowing and whispering again. "I can't come back until I figure out what's wrong with me."

"Kid there's nothing wrong with you-" "Yes there is! I- I- I can't sleep! I can't get dressed by myself! I can't even use the bathroom without feeling sick!" The words pool out of my mouth in a harsh tone and J.J. steps back when I flail my arms, "I can't look at myself in the mirror," Tears stream down my cheek when I turn my face around the room. "I need things to be different around here." Even Hotch's expression turns saddened and weak.

"I-" I choke and wipe my eyes with my sleeve. " I hate the name 'pretty boy'." I try to turn my eyes from Derek who's leaned over to see my expression, "I hate being referred to as 'Sir' or 'Mr.'" I bite my quivering top lip and draw my eyes back to the floor. "I hate hearing," I pause and clear my throat again thinking it would help stop my cracking voice, "he did this or it was him who," I sniff looking at Garcia whose eyes are also filled with tears.

"I'm not comfortable," I whisper and Emily gapes her mouth as if to say something then closes it rubbing her nose instead. "I haven't been comfortable for a long time. I don't know what I am anymore." The word 'what' sticks in the air for a minute before J.J. tries to pat my arm again and I let her. She eases in to hold me and I shut my eyes to stop sobbing.

"I- I- need," I start before shaking my head, "I'd like people to treat me differently." I furrow my brow thinking what to say next, "I looked online," I wipe my face again trying to slide J.J away from me, "and all the labels really scared me but uhm," I pause again "I think I'd like to try something I've been pushing down for a while." Rossi nods his head.

I feel awkward standing in front of all of these people, my friends. Years ago I could trust them with my life but now I felt so exposed and broken. I was scared of how they were going to react, I felt like screaming in my stance and running out of the room crying. I muttered out the first words before shaking my head and trying again. "I think," I clear my throat again, "I want to try different," I look at the group, averting my eyes off the floor while the edges of my lips curl into a saddened smile, before whispering the last word, "Pronouns."

I see Emily mutter a small "Oh," and Morgan's face turns confused. I slump into a hunched position and continue to cry softly when people start nodding their heads looking up at me. "Well," Hotch starts and people start to look at him. "I think that what you're asking for is," He pauses looking to the group then back at me.

"Perfectly reasonable and we will do or call you whatever you want" They all nod and mutter incoherent words. "Yes, yes of course we can." Garcia stammers wiping tears from her eyes looking at me from across the room. "What, uhm what would you like?" She asks rubbing her hands together, "To, you know," she shakes her hands before wiping more tears from her face.

I smile for the first time in weeks. It's not a toothy smile or a cheek to cheek grin but, it makes me feel safe knowing I can still do the things I used to. Come into work and smile. I catch my sighs and draw in a deep breath before looking at Garcia, "They/them." And the rest of the team smiles too.

...

[lvnatiq]

Surrealtà | Nicky Valentino x Assassin!OC

A/N: Hello, my fellow Valentinhoes! I already mentioned this series that will be approximately 10 chapters long (if not more). I tried to keep the prologue short trying my best to not bore you. The dialogues between the characters are modified according to this story and yes, there will be a lot of new characters alongside the original ones. With that being said if you have any questions or suggestions, let me know :)! 

Enjoy, toots.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, usage of inappropriate language.

Prologue: Inferno

“Do you ever doubt your actions? I mean, you know the uproar about them being ethically wrong.”

Andrea's words revealed her agitated behavior. Her sincere concern for her friend was boggling her mind with more questions.

“Why would I doubt my actions when there are enough people already doing that.”

Heaven lifted her glass to her lips and stopped moments before taking a sip.

“I never give people anything more or less than what they’ve done.”

The sour taste of alcohol lingers on her tongue while it makes its way into her system causing her body to warm up.

“If they kill, I kill. Easy as that.”

“You know what’s going to happen when they get you behind bars, right ?” said Andrea. Fully aware of the fact that her attempts at getting her to tap out were not affecting Heaven at all.

“I don’t."

Heaven said as she turned her head towards the anxious eyes that were studying her. Her smirk becomes more prominent as she sets her booze down on the glass table.

“Because It’s not going to happen."

Upon hearing her words Andrea couldn't manage to hide her astonishment.

“How can you be so sure ?”

“I’m not but do I have any other options? I am not someone that you would want to see panicking.”

Heaven said as she continued to play with the rim of her glass. She proceeded as she eyed her reflection on the glass table.

“I might appear dangerous when I let my anger take over, but panic?” she scoffed as she pushed her long locks away from her face.

“I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“Why?” Andrea said, engaging herself with the conversation more and more. Afterall there were no limits to her curiosity.

“I lose control.”

Says Heaven as she collects the documents scattered over the table and then stands up from her stool. She lowers herself at Andrea's eye level as she proceeds with her speech.

“...and If I lose control, my love...”

Andrea drops her gaze as she couldn't bring herself to look straight into her eyes. Heaven whispers her last words, unaware of the fact that this statement will be the foreshadowing of what was about to come.

“All hell will break loose.”

With that, the curiosity killed the cat.

January 1st, 2020

The cold breeze of New York combed her long locks as she stared at her watch. Her pupils dilating as her eyes followed the second hand, continuing to count the seconds.

"Thirty more to go. Then it's time for the Fiesta."

Pushing back the hem of her coat, she pulled out a brand new Glock 19 and a suppressor. Her hands started to wander around the gun as she let the feeling of absolute power captivate her senses. After rolling the silencer onto the muzzle of the Glock, she placed her gun back at its previous position.

The silencer, her infamous nickname.

Nobody knew her true identity nor her background. At this point in her life, others weren't the only ones to do so. Her memory was as unreliable as her trigger. Her past, present, and future remained unknown to her. In her opinion, keeping her past locked in the forbidden spaces of her mind it's for the better.

"Henry Harding, age 46, a prick who traded the life of his wife for the comfort of his stacks."

She reminded herself as her steps quickened. The darkness of the night emerged as the light of the day shuttered under its vigor. Her breathing became apparent, evaporating in front of her eyes.

"His right hand, Richard Kindell, a coward who sold his soul to the same devil that killed his son. Porca miseria! What type of leverage does that son of a bitch has over Richard that keeps him loyal no matter the cause?"

She cursed under her breath as she took a sharp turn. Upon seeing the large crowd in front of the theatre she decided to examine the atmosphere surrounding her. Women in elegant dresses were accompanied by men in suits. Their sweet conversations concerning their excitement about the movie, pervading the air with love. Utterly oblivious of the fact that they were soon to be bystanders of a tragic ending.

"Tragic but a well-deserved ending."

Her plan was too simple for her liking. She made Richard get the same gun that she had attached to her thigh, two weeks before she sent the suspicious mail to Henry. The mail that contained information exclusively known by the two of them regarding Richard's son's death. She was simply using their trust issues as an advantage.

"25 meters till the warfare."

As she moves closer, the ticket booth becomes more visible and her eyes meet the man of the moment, Murray.

"Smile, Heaven. You don't want to disappoint your audience."

She said as she put her killer smile on, turning heads as she walked by. Her charming nature and her mysterious aura always captured people's attention. Even so, she couldn't care less.

Her hair flowing in harmony with the wind, her steps overflowed with confidence, and her eyes gleamed with the fact that she could finally put an end to what the judiciary system defined as a dilemma. It's time for Maria's long-awaited vendetta.

"Hello, Murphy. How's the night treating you?"

Murphy gave her a heartwarming smile, accompanied by sincere laughter.

"So far so good. What about you my dear?"

"Lovely, I'd say. New York has its charm, you know."

She said as her hand reached her pocket, searching for the ticket.

"Seems so."

Murray said as his eyes carefully scanned Heaven's. Sensing his unusual behavior, Heaven glued her eyes back onto his as she took a step further.

"How do you figure?"

She asked as she gave him a smirk. A smirk that often got people's breath hitch, hands sweat and their heartbeats accelerated.

"Your eyes."

Said Murray letting his body language do the favors, he pointed at her eyes.

"They tell a lot."

He said as he positioned himself back behind the booth. Murray was a part of her plan even though he didn't know much about it. She didn't lie to him but she also didn't tell him things that were none of his business. Such as her soon to be attempted murder.

"I suppose."

She said as she lifted her wrist casually to check the time.

"Aces. Perfect timing."

She dipped her hand back again into the pocket of her coat. Unable to feel any sort of texture regarding the existence of the ticket, she slid her other hand into her other pocket.

"Nothing."

"Your ticket, my dear?"

Without disrupting her composure, she thought of a quick backup plan.

"I need him to participate, I lost my ticket. How is this even possible?"

She thought as she closed her eyes shut. Letting out a deep breath, she opened her eyes only to reveal her teary vision. She strongly held on the cuffs of her coat making her knuckles turn white as she lowered her gaze to the floor. Even the most successful artist would be envious of her skilled performance.

"Murray, my ticket is missing."

Murray studied her reaction as he gave her an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry my dear. I don't think that we have any other tickets left for the night."

Upon hearing his words she raised her gaze to meet his, giving him a look that will scar him for the rest of his life.

"Murray, You know that I can't miss this. Tonight was my main reason for coming to New York. I'm desperate for your help."

She said slowly pushing her coat back to display the outline of the gun beneath her dress. Her innocent demeanor was falsified by her reveal. Murray gave her an empty look, seemingly unaffected by her threat. He stopped for a second before turning to her with a smile.

"I got you, Heaven."

He said as he reached under the desk revealing a golden ticket. He slowly extended his hand as hers followed. Then, he retracted it. Unaware of the dangerous game he was playing with Heaven's patience.

"One last thing, Heaven."

He indicated to her to come closer as he leaned in. Not wanting to waste any more of her precious time Heaven obliged.

"It's time for you to prioritize yourself. For the sake of your good."

He said as he gave her the ticket and pushed the gate open for her.

"Have fun, my dear."

Heaven, unimpressed by his discourse, stepped inside. Hearing the gate close behind her. The heavy smell of tobacco dominated the large area blinded by the lights of the enormous chandelier and golden decorations that reminded her of the Palace of Versailles. A palace that was full of people with extravagant attires laughing and cheering, adorning their social interactions with excessive reactions. Baffled by the unanticipated environment Heaven took a few steps back, letting her back hit the wall.

The wall, located exactly where the gate should be. As her confusion gets the best of her, at her right she notices a man reading a newspaper. She walks close enough to see the contents of the front page. Only to realize that the front page was listing absurdly familiar names of the several presidents. Names that surely belonged to the 20'ies. Heaven gently closed her eyes then she leaned her forehead against the palm of her hand.

"Where the hell am I?" she muttered as her own words, followed by her deep voice, echoed inside of her head. She gave one last glance at the velvet wall where the entrance gate should've been.

"Abandon hope, all ye who enter here."

Vocabulary: 

Second hand: the hand on some watches and clocks that moves quickly, showing the seconds.

Fiesta: an event marked by festivities or celebration.

Porca miseria: in this case used as “Bloody hell”.

Vendetta: a blood feud in which the family of a murdered person seeks vengeance on the murderer or the murderer's family.

"Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.": A message warning one about a hopeless situation from which there is no return. The Italian version of this phrase appears in Dante's Divine Comedy as the inscription on the entrance to Hell. The phrase is most often used humorously.