#traumatized reader

[yellowroseswrites]

“Can you see right through me?”

Roommate!Spencer Reid x hypersexual! traumatized! reader

she/her is used, bras are mentioned! if anyone would like this with a gn or male reader, please lmk!

-The one where your roommate knows why you are the way you are, but no one else does.-

Authors note- {this wasn’t requested, it’s really just me projecting, but i hope this helps someone!}

TW-{plenty of sex mentions, talks of underwear, talks of smut (but no actual smut), talks of porn (nondescriptive, but reader watches it), sex as a coping mechanism, allusions to non-con, reader doesnt really want to be this way, reader is traumatized, but the trauma is nonspecific so you can self insert, use of y/n, reid is autism coded but thats just how i write him all the time, plenty of whore/slut usage, please dont read if being called a whore/slut triggers you, plenty of negative self talk, i feel the need to bring up the non-con again.nothing is described in detail but its heavily implied. please be safe when reading!}

1.2k, enjoy <3 

Whore

Honestly you were so used to that comment. That's what everyone thought, even yourself most of the time.

Logically, you knew why you were like this. You had enough Psychology knowledge to understand the way trauma responses worked, and you knew full well that that's what this was.

But it was so much easier to just call yourself a slut and move on. You just liked it, you would tell yourself, It has nothing to do with anything they did to you.

So what if you wished you were innocent and naïve? So what if you wished you could just wear comfortable clothes? So what if you wished you weren't always thinking about sleeping with someone? So what if you wished you could erase every trace of porn from your memory? You were a whore, you couldn't change it, you couldn't excuse it.

Your roommate Spencer knew what people thought of you. He knew the rumors and he saw the glances. He didn't quite believe it all when he first moved in with you into your small shared apartment, but he quickly picked up on some of the signs.

There was that time when he offered to wash your clothes for you when you were sick. He didn't try to look, if anything he was putting them in the wash with his eyes half closed, but he couldn't help but notice that every one of your undergarments were frilly and lacey. Certainly you would get tired of wearing cute bras or own some underwear that wasn't a thong? Or maybe he just didn't know women as well as he thought? He brushed off that incident, until there were more.

Like when he looked through your bookshelf only to find every spicy scene highlighted or bookmarked. It wasn't his place to judge, and he didn't, but he could have sworn you said your favorite books were classic novels, and these certainly weren't.

Or when he found porn on your laptop. He, again, didn't judge, but he was confused. You would shutter at any sex scene on TV, and you couldn't stand the subject. Sure, people called you every name under the sun, but not Spencer. Spencer didn't think you were a slut, but he did think you were in pain. He just didn’t know how to bring it up to you, it certainly wasn’t roomate or coworker appropriate, it was barely even friend appropriate. There was a line he didn’t ever want to cross with you, in fear of making you uncomfortable, but he wanted nothing more than to help you.

I was a random friday when he somehow found the confidence, and audacity, to bring it up. You just got back from your afternoon run, in shorts that definetly showed more than you liked, and Spencer was cooking dinner for the two of you.

You untied your running shoes and placed them on the shoe rack near the door like you always do. You walked to the kitchen and basked in the lovely arauma, if their was anything you loved about being Reid’s roomate, it was definetly his cooking.

He told himself to be gentle, to not bring it up when it wasn’t the right time, but when has he ever held something important back?

“Do you like having sex?”

Woah, wow. That’s not how he meant that, but now it’s too far to go back. So he put the timer on for his water to come to a boil and he turned to face you and wait for your answer.

You were nothing less than taken aback by his question. You never discussed sex with Spencer, there was always a silent boundary on the subject. It wasn’t his business, you both knew that, so why did you want to answer honestly? You didn’t, you couldn’t. That’s a can or worms for a different day, with a therapist, who you didn’t live with. So you simply laughed it off.

“I mean, you’ve heard the rumors, I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure that out.” You said it as a joke, Spencer didn’t laugh, he simply shifted his feet a bit.

“I am smart enough to figure it out. Except the answer I came up with, is that you don’t like it.”

You laughed again, this time shifting your eyes to the ground. Two psycho-analyzers living together had it’s quirks, such as exposing each other’s darkest secrets on accident.

“Come on Spencer, I’m like, a slut. Of course I do.” You were still smiling, mostly to deflect.

“Don’t say that.” He was serious. You certainly wish he wasn’t, but fine. If he wanted to be serious, you would be serious.

“It’s true.” You were surrounded by criminals on a daily basis, lying was second nature to you.

Reid wasn’t having it, “No, y/n, it’s not. You’re not a slut, you’re not a whore, you’re not just some sex toy to be traded from person to person.”

“My sex life is none of your business. I can sleep with whoever I want to-”

“That’s the thing! You don’t want to sleep with them. You don’t want to be looked at like that. You don’t want to consume any of the content that you’ve been looking at. I know you don’t.” He kept a steady voice, but a dominate one nonetheless. He let everything just roll of his tongue, as though he didn’t just send a wrecking ball through every wall you’ve built up since you were a child.

You couldn’t find words, you couldn’t come up with a lie or excuse, you couldn’t figure out how to let out the truth, you simply stood in your astonished silence. 

Spencer looked at your face, searching for any sign of emotion, but you stood still as a statue. 

“Look, y/n, I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m a slut.” Your voice cracked when you spoke, almost like Reid’s heart when he heard it.

“No, no my love you aren’t.”

“No. That’s what I am. That’s what I do, that’s what I’m good at. I-It’s what I’m good at. I’m good for sex, that’s what I’m good at.” Your gaze fell back to the floor as you spoke, your words quickly becoming muddled and rambled. Your body started shaking as you spoke, causing Spencer to quickly make his way to your side.

“Slut, I’m a slut Spence, it’s what I’m good at. It’s okay, I’m okay with it, I promise. I know, I know I am. It doesn’t bother me-”

“Shhh, Breathe honey. Come on, deep breath in-” Spencer breathed with you until you steadied yourself. You gathered your thoughts and your feelings. You tried to gather the pieces of the wall Reid broke, desperate to put it back together, but when you looked back up at Spencer, you let it all go again. He made you feel safe, that’s all that you wanted.

“I can’t stop it Spence.” Your voice was soft. You were letting go of something you held onto for so long. Soemthing you hid behind, something you felt comfort in, you just placed it down in front of him. You felt bare, naked, and yet somehow felt more comfortable than you ever have before. You could breathe easier. Someone knew now, someone knew you.

“We’re gonna get you some help. Okay?” You replied with a nod before wrapping your arms around him. He placed a kiss on your head before speaking again, 

“You’re not a slut, I never thought you were.”

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Sweet Jane Part One — Campbell Bain x Reader

Summary: Y/n was admitted to Saint Jude's hospital in Glasglow soon after her eighteenth birthday when she developed a case of psychogenic/traumatic mutism; there she meets a talkative, optimistic, idealistic, hyperactive nineteen-year-old boy with Manic depression who dreams of becoming a DJ, follow them through their story and learn what happened to Y/n.

Series Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship, Manipulative Ex, Mentions of Past Rape, Mental Health, Discrimination against the Mentally Ill/Neroudivergent, Traumatized Reader, Abusive Parents, Mentions of deceased family members, Stalking, Suicide, Reader doesn't handle men touching her well, Mentions of Sex, Bad Caretakers, Implied Non-Scottish Reader, Implied Short Reader, Campbell Bain's Dad is Terrible

Chapter Warnings: Reader refuses to speak; Loving Campbell Bain, Traumatized Reader, Selectively Mute Reader, PTSD Reader, Psychogenic Mute Reader, Traumatic Mute Reader, Manic Depressant Campbell Bain, Bipolar Campbell Bain, Schizophrenic Furgus, OCD Rosalie, Reader Developed Selective Mutism as a Coping Mechanism, Reader may have an intense type of anxiety caused by trauma, Reader is implied to not be Scottish or at least from Scotland (I am American but just add where you're from), Reader is implied to be shorter than the six-foot Campbell Bain

“You are a mystery to me, yet so familiar. Like a song I’ve never heard before, and a tune I’ve known my entire life.”

Y/N hadn't spoken a word since she was eighteen and long before that something had changed. Her parents finally decided enough was enough and sent her to Saint Jude's hospital in Glasgow.

Campbell had literally crashed into the new girl during his excitement at hearing that the Saint Jude's radio station would be reopened.

The girl screamed as he collided with her and she started screaming and kicking due to his body weight on her.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." He said, hurriedly, getting off of her and holding a hand out to help her up but she just stared at him, terrified, "I'm sorry. Uh..." He realized he didn't recognize her, as far as he knew he was the youngest patient at Saint Jude's and this girl was around his age. This was exciting! "Are you new? I'm Campbell Bain, I'll be the bane of your life until one of us is discharged." He chortled at his own joke before he realized she was still of the floor, "Oh, let me help you up." He crouched down and took her hand, helped her up.

She stared at him with a confused look on her face but she didn't pull her hand away yet more out of shock than anything. Campbell offered her a smile before she ripped her hand out of his grip and ran off, leaving Campbell very confused.

He asked the nurses about the girl but none would give him proper answers, until he got to Stuart the orderlie, who should've been a patient instead but... you know, life.

"She's a looney." He said, blankly.

"Ai, yes. Yes. Yes. I know that much but what's her name? What's her deal?" Campbell prodded.

"Y/N." Was all he said.

--

A few days later, Eddie McKenna arrived to be the DJ for Saint Jude's, with assumption that he'd be able to tell the difference between the staff and the patients.

He had an interaction with Stuart and assumed he was a patient but found out that he was a nursing assistant. Well, that couldn't be good.

Then he met Campbell, who seemed perfectly friendly and nice before realizing he was a patient himself.

Campbell and Y/N were on better terms, now that she had stopped bolting on the other direction when he tried to talk to her. And they listened to Eddie's show as Y/N read Narnia.

Soon after the show, Eddie heard Campbell playing and singing, Summertime Blues on his guitar which was only slightly out of tune, which Eddie had played on his show. He saw Y/N correcting Campbell's finger placement on the guitar as he whined that it hurt his hand.

Campbell enthusiastically praised Eddie and explained on his poor timing and the patient’s dependence of television.

Y/N caught sight of something moving outside the window and she threw a guitar pick at Campbell, making him pout in her direction before seeing her pointing and they ran to window as he said, “Hang on, you’re not boring me or that, but I’ve just seen a friend of mine flying past the window.”

Y/N and Campbell leaned out the window to see the hospital’s Schizophrenic who despite the schtick his disorder stereotyped him as he was just the most gentle soul you’d ever meet, if a little eccentric, grappling down the side of the building.

“Fergus! What’re you doing!?” Campbell shouted after him as Eddie joined them, “you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Shall I get a nurse?” Eddie asked and Y/N shook her head.

“Fergus! You’re gonna miss your cocoa, you know!”

“I know.” Fergus told him.

“Can Y/N and I have it, then?” He asked.

“Help yourselves.” He told them.

“He’s escaping.” Eddie said, surprised how calm both of them were being so calm about this

“He’ll be knocking on the door in an hour or so. He always does.” Campbell reassured Eddie, “annoys the hell out of the staff but makes this one smile.” He nodded at Y/N as she sat on Campbell’s bed with his guitar, the look of fascination in Campbell's eyes was not lost on Eddie.

Campbell returned to his enthusiastic and impulsive idea-planning, the first being to bring up a story when a student nurse accidently gave everyone in the ward a laxative, making Eddie and Y/N look at him oddly and the only problem he saw with it was where he’d get that many laxatives.

“What about a request show?” He asked Eddie.

“I already thought of that. I haven’t enough records.” Eddie shot down that idea… well, he’s never disagreed with Campbell Bain before.

“So?”

“So? When folk request something, they usually like to be able to play it.”

“We just make them keep requesting until they hit something we actually have.” Campbell said, “‘if you can guess a record that we actually have in our library, then we will play it for you with a special dedication’.” He did a playful punch in the air, “who could resist?”

“It’ll never work.”

Y/N who had been playing with Campbell’s guitar, then played a jingly tune.

“You’re right, Y/N!” He declared, enthusiastically with an enthusiastic pointed finger at her and then he ran his hand through his light auburn-brown floppy hair, “We’ll need some jingles.” Y/N looked up when Campbell sang a jingle, “Hospital radio, Saint Juuuuude’s.” He smiled at Eddie, “that sort of thing.”

“You need singers to record jingles.”

Campbell picked up his guitar from Y/N and sat next to her, “and what exactly is sitting here before you?”

“A lunatic!” Eddie declared, making Y/N softly giggle.

“Aye, a singing lunatic!” Campbell agreed, enthusiastically. “We could record them in the station, aye?”

“Aye…” Eddie submitted.

“Brilliant!” Campbell exclaimed, going back to Eddie, “Now give me the key.” He held out his hand.

“What key?” Eddie asked.

“To the station.” Campbell said and ran to the door, looking out, “look, I’ve gotta start. Writing the jingles, rehearsing the singers, cataloging the albums.”

Eddie looked at Y/N as she looked back down and realized he hadn’t gotten her name, having been distracted Campbell’s… Campbell-ness and Fergus escaping. “Uh, ma’am… what’s your name again?” Eddie asked, making Y/N look up from a piece of paper she was now writing on, she gave him with a blank deadpan look at being called “ma’am”. She was only eighteen.

“That’s Y/N.” Campbell said.

“What’s your favorite album?” Nothing. She just looked at him, “can you sing?” She blinked twice and he turned back to Campbell, “what’s wrong with her?”

“Oh, she doesn’t speak. She hasn’t said a word since she got here.” Campbell said, “and there’s nothing wrong with her, she’s just looney like me!”

Eddie walked closer to him and asked as gently as he could, “Campbell, how exactly are you here?”

Campbell paused in which he faltered, knowing how his own father felt about his disorder before smiling, “Can you not guess? I’m manic.” Y/N looked up and smiled at him, making his eyes dart to her and a more genuine smile appeared on his lips before he reassured Eddie, “but don’t worry. The drugs I take make me completely stable. Except for headaches, of course.” He blinked in pain as he focused back on the painful headaches and he squeezed his eyes shut before blindly grabbing onto Eddie’s shirt who could sense a scene coming up as could Y/N who looked up to be amused by Campbell, “I get these headaches. I just comes over me and I cannae…” He flopped on his bed, next to Y/N and shouted out in pain, “ah, the bells! The bells!”

Y/N reached over and went to place her hand on Campbell’s back before stopping, hesitating to do so, not sure if they were close enough or if she wanted to admit that they were close enough and then suddenly Campbell’s mood shifted back to near manic and he shot himself up to look at Eddie, making Y/N pull her hand away, blinking briefly in surprise, “And I want my own show, by the way.”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Well, after all this work, I think it’s only fair, don’t you?” He questioned.

“Campbell, I cannae just give you your own show.” Eddie protested, “you need training on the equipment.”

“So? Train me!” Campbell pleaded, eagerly. “I’ll take Friday nights.”

“Will that not clash with Brookside?” Eddie questioned.

Y/N looked at the window where they had gone to to shout after Fergus.

—

The next day, Campbell and Eddie were in the common room with Eddie standing shyly while Campbell did the opposite and shouted through a party megaphone while Y/N sat with Fergus, writing down something for him to read. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have an important announcement to make!” He spotted Fergus and Y/N and narrowed his eyes, “Fergus, stop flirting with Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and went to the couch rather bored now and put her headphones on.

Campbell and Eddie had announced the request show, while admitting that they had limited records. Eddie went to talk to Nana while Campbell stared at Y/N, feeling nervous to approach her since he worried she hated him with how scared she got when he interacted with her.

Then Fergus clapped him on the back, making him stumble and look at him, unamused before approaching the silent H/C-haired girl.

"Hey, Y/N," Campbell said, kindly, walking up to the silent girl but she didn't seem to hear him as she was listening to her Walkman. He tapped her shoulder, making her jump and stare at him with wide eyes just as she had when they first met. He gestured to her headphones, silently asking if he could take them off and she slowly nodded and he gently slid them off and could vaguely hear Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover by Sophie B. Hawkins.

"Hey, we're doing a request show. You have any requests?"

She looked at him for a good while before getting up and leaving. Campbell frowned and his spirits were diminished before leaning forward and face planting his face into the couch cushion, groaning.

—

Campbell showed Eddie the radio station now cleaned and useable thanks to him, Y/N, and Rosalie and as he left Eddie questioned Campbell about Nana and Campbell answered in his own hyperactive way before Eddie questioned him about his obvious crush on Y/N.

“The silent girl, uh… M/Y/N.” (Mispronunciation of Your Name)

“Y/N.” Campbell corrected, automatically in a slightly defensive tone.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Campbell’s cheeks burned as they reddened and his heartrate quickened, “No. No. No. She’s new actually. Been here about a week. She… she’s a mystery.” He gave out a dreamy smile, “One I’d like to solve but…” He shrugged like, what can you do? —

Campbell was snoring when he was awoken by a friendly smack in the head. He woke up, groaning with confusion before turning on his light, illuminating Y/N who smile sweetly at him as she held something behind her back.

"Jesus, Y/N." He groaned, "what you do that for?" She just looked at him and he nodded, remembering who je was talking to, "right. Uh, what is it?"

Y/N brought a custom record sleeve out from behind her back and he slowly began to realize what she was trying tell him.

"Oh, you want me to play one of these songs during the show tomorrow, er… today?" He asked.

She nodded and sat on the edge of his bed, making him kick around spazzily and awkwardly before sitting up, trying to make room for her as his heart pounded and he looked down at her, feeling her body heat up against his but forced himself not to think about that as it was a bit of a creepy thought to have at two in the morning as she showed him the songs on the back of the vinyl which was also handmade, she pointed at the first song: a cover of The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane by Cowboy Junkies.

"Is that your favorite song?" He asked and she nodded. "Wait, these are all from different bands, how'd you get this?"

She pointed to herself, "you made it?" He gathered, "Who made the record?" She pointed to herself again and he just smiled at her impressed and enamored by her. "You are one mystery, Y/N L/N. You may be my favorite mystery.”

She smiled, telling him that she liked the idea of being a mystery to him and kissed his cheek, near the corner of his lip, nearly making him melt with a loud dreamy sigh before running off. He looked after he with a starstruck look of awe on his face before flopping back on his pillow, groaning.

—

The next day, Y/N shared a smile with Fergus before listening in on the radio to the show, standing and watching Campbell through the window.

“Good evening! This is Ready Eddie.” Eddie introduced, “and on my left is my right-hand man…”

“Campbell Bain.” Campbell introduced, not seeing Y/N watching him and the smile on her lips.

“And you’re listening to the first ever Ready Eddie Radio Request Road Show.” He gave Campbell a thumbs up and the nineteen-year-old pushed a button, making a jingle play.

“Ready Eddie’s road show. Ready, Eddie, go.”

“That’s right. This is the premiere. This is the first. And you can tell everyone that you were there. You heard it! You saw it!” Campbell said, enthusiastically before joking, “And they’ll tell you, it’s all part of your illness.”

Y/N giggled at his antics before realizing this and she zipped her leather jacket up over her shirt with the sarcastic quote on it.

“We’re playing requests from Ward Eleven this evening. This one is for Francine. I hope you’re listening, Francine.”

Campbell then teased, “I hope anyone’s listening.” He then saw Y/N watching him and let out an audible smile that melted his insides.

“Is anybody listening?” Eddie asked, “Is anybody out there?”

Then Help! By the Beatles started to play and soon the patients came out and Campbell ran out of the station to dance with some patients before more came out, including Fergus. He gave Y/N a smile and thumbs up as he flashed the part of the television he had removed.

Campbell ran back to Eddie and pulled his earphone off so he could talk to him, “the television’s broken, Eddie! There is a God!”

Eddie nodded in the direction of Y/N and Campbell’s face lit up and he ran to Y/N and taking her hands, trying to ease her into dancing. She shook her head before starting to shuffle awkwardly to the music before Campbell took her hands and pulled her against him so she danced with him to the beat of the music. She then giggled up against him and he smiled, triumphally.

He was about to comment on how beautiful her laugh when there was a BANG! And the music stopped, making them all exclaim in disappointment before Campbell and Y/N ran back to the station to see what was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“The mixing desk.” Eddie said, trying to fix it with his limited knowledge.

“Do something!” Campbell exclaimed.

“What can I do? I can’t even turn on the bathroom light without shocking myself.” Eddie remarked.

“Well, check the plug. Maybe it’s the fuse.” Campbell suggested as Y/N looked up at Fergus and gestured for him to come.

“It’s not the fuse.” Eddie sighed.

Campbell ran his hand through his floppy hair, “I cannae believe this. I’ve just had the world’s shortest career as a disk jockey.”

Fergus took out a screwdriver and headed inside to help and started to unscrew the screws of the mixing desk.

“Fergus, what are you doing?” Campbell asked.

“I’ll just have a look.” Fergus reassure him.

“No, don’t!” Eddie shouted, “don’t have a look there.”

Y/N helped Fergus lift the plate of the mixing desk as Eddie continued to try and stop Fergus and Y/N, “Fergus, Y/N, I’m asking you. Please, leave it alone”

“He’s gonna blow it up.” A patient said.

“He’s not!” Campbell protested.

“I think I know what the problem is.” Fergus told Eddie.

“He’s blowing it up.” Another patient said and the others started to chant Fergus’ name.

“Fergus, don’t, okay!? Just leave it alone. It’s all we’ve got.” Eddie pleaded and Y/N smacked Eddie’s shoulder when Stuart literally pushed her out of the way, making her squeak and stumble before Campbell caught her and glared at Stuart.

“Oi, watch where you’re going!” He shouted.

Stuart aggressively grabbed Fergus holding him in a near chokehold and Y/N tried to go forth to help but Campbell held her back, knowing she’d just be pushed away again, if not sedated.

“He’s not causing trouble, is he?” He asked Eddie and Y/N shook her head, frantically at Eddie.

“No, he’s just helping me, get the mixing desk going again.” Eddie muttered.

“Him? He couldn’t get his brain going again.” Stuart spat and Y/N scoffed, implying that she felt that better described Stuart than Fergus.

“Leave it, Stuart.” Isabella, the more kind nurse said, “it’s all over.”

Stuart let Fergus go and sulked out of the room, clearly upset that he didn’t get to hurt someone as Y/N gave him the middle finger.

Fergus closed the plate of the mixing desk and Y/N flipped the switch, making the light come back on.

“You two are geniuses.” Campbell gasped.

Y/N shook her head and pointed at Fergus like, no, he’s the genius.

“YOU’RE GENIUSES!” Campbell shouted and he slammed the door shut and got back to the microphone, “Sorry about the technical problems, folks. We’re now back on the air and we hope to keep it that way. Our next request is for Y/N and dedicated to her by me.” He chortled as he looked at her and clicked his tongue as he winked.

The cover of Sweet Jane played, making Y/N smile as Eddie looked at Fergus, giving him an apologetic and thankful smile as Fergus perpetually scowled before his lips curved into a gentle smile.

Later, Y/N helped Campbell clean up the hallways before they bumped into each other.

“Uh… so how did you know how to help Fergus?” He asked.

She took out her wad of paper and wrote: Learned. Taught.

He nodded, taking what he could get, “I always knew you were smart.” He said, honestly and he hesitated before leaning towards her to kiss her cheek like she had done the night, she shifted, conflicted as she could see the pure gentless in Campbell's personality, in his actions, in his eyes, and she could feel it in his cheek kiss. He had hesitated, not wanting to overstep boundaries and he was still nervous about his decision but before she could react Eddie ran out of the room, making them break apart and move out of the way before he rammed into them.

*This is a series from my Wattpad, so I'm moving in to Tumblr and Archive of my Own. There is an entire subplot later on of stalking and the cause of the reader's muteness or mutism (which ever is the correct term). Am I the only one who feels like Campbell Bain might also have ADHD or is it just because of his Bipolar/Manic Depression. I'm usually good at this but I'm having a hard time differentiating the two or maybe it's just David Tennant.

[puffpuffmenace]

WELCOME HOME DEMON SLAYER AU!

Neighbor/Y/N was a slayer known as the dream hashira, they died in the arc against muzan. But first saving Muichiro and Genya from death, aswell as Iguro and Mitsuri to survive their injuries.

________________________________

About Slayer!Hashira!Neighbor:

-Dream breathing

-Tranquil and Ethearial

-Can be any gender, Pronouns are usually they/them, you can choose she/her he/him it/name or just name, whatever you want. You can even give them top surgery scars if you want.

-A lot of fucking trauma & scars

-Was trained by Kanae and later helped Mitsuri develop her breathing style. They both have some similar moves.

-Somewhat like a big siblings to others.

-Love interest can be anyone, but I'd say wally the most.

I have a sketch of them!

Dream breathing (made by me!)

Dream Breathing: 夢の呼吸

Dream Breathing first form: Gentle Daydream 【夢の呼吸第一形態: 優しい白昼夢】

Dream breathing second form: Goodnight 【夢の呼吸第二形態:おやすみ】

Dream breathing third form: Lucid dream 【夢の呼吸第三形態: 明晰夢】

Dream breathing fourth form: Deathly Dream 【夢の呼吸第四形態: 死の夢】

Dream breathing fifth form: Awoken nightmare 【夢の呼吸第五形態: 目覚めた悪夢】

Dream breathing sixth form: Sleep Paralysis 【夢の呼吸第六形態: 睡眠麻痺】

(Some translations may be incorrect!)

There will he a digital art of Slayer!Neighbor !!There will be some manga spoilers from demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba!

________________________________

Y/N had died in their world, and their soul was put into a puppet, known as the new arrival of welcome home! Y/N teardrop

The moment Y/N woke up, they chose to not tell her past, her sword, and other things where transported to her. Y/N frequently tries to cover up her big scars, but stopped after an incident where she got sprayed with water.

Some are quite uneasy because of the scars due to it being too much to look at or to even touch, wally himself had some hard times, but tries to be more gentler with Y/N.

[tobeholyistobeempty]

giggling at the thought of you moving into ghosts house - barely furnished, almost looks like no one has lived in the damn place for years. he just shrugs, saying something about how he’s a minimalist when you call him on it. you beg him to atleast let you buy him some fucking decor, maybe a painting or two, maybe some damn curtains?

again, he just shrugs. telling you it’s a waste of money.

but his mind changes, if only a little, when a few months later the neighbour across the street approaches you as you’re getting in his truck.

“uh, hey, simon? do you think i could talk to you a minute?”

the guy is half scared to death to approach, and simon quirks a brow only for the fact that this is easily the first time he ever has. and so he nods, assuming it’s probably something rather important, gesturing for you to get in the car.

“i uh, dunno how to say this but. maybe you could, uh, get some curtains? i uh, ive looked out my window to see you two fucking far too many times. i’m not complaining but, i mean—“

simon blinks, then blinks again. before he bursts out laughing. “glad y’ve enjoyed the show.”

and when he gets back in the car, he just gives you a lopsided, boyish smile.

“mayb’ s’time for those curtains, love.”

[pythonmoth]

cw: post torture trauma. depersonalization. denial. sick jokes as a coping mechanism.

simon x f!reader. poly tf141. father figure price.

Part one | Last | Next

Numb. And cold.

The light in the room is cold and white, devoid of any type of warmth.

Laying flat on the bed, you're barely blinking, your expression is detached, and unreadable.

Your body got so used to the torture that every time a medic moves too fast, you mentally brace yourself for a hit or for another toenail to be ripped off, not moving a muscle.

You've three toenails left, after all. Another three chances of pain.

Perhaps they could cut your fingers off, instead. Or your ears.

That'd be new.

Your eyes are fixed on the light bulb above your head, dimly aware of the medics moving around you as if you were in a simulation game. You hear them curse under their breath, sharing looks, and throwing worried glances at you.

At times, it feels like you're watching yourself on that table. You're the light bulb.

It needs fixing.

The medics have already tended to your feet and toes, your fingers, and deep down you can't help but find it hilarious that, despite the drugs they gave you for the pain, your raw fingers throb bad enough for you to remember it perfectly.

You will never forget the pain.

Or perhaps you've already forgotten.

Images of Si Ghost, a hidden smirk behind the mask, ripping your nails off and showing them to you before throwing them to the side, laughing at you with Soap, and Price, fill your mind. Your past screams break through the image, your fingers twitching briefly.

Is it a memory?

You grimace inwardly.

You're not sure.

Perhaps it is. Or not.

As you're held up by two medics and put to sleep on another bed, drugged out of your mind, you stop worrying about it.

You're mistaken. Surely. Must be.

There's no way it was actually Simon; you're just going crazy. He will come and tuck you to bed as he always does. He'll bring Johnny tomorrow and the three of you will have some of the cookies Johnny keeps hidden in his room, safe from the Captain and the rest, the hungry lot. And they'll have the beer Simon bought the other day. And then Simon will give you a goodnight kiss.

There's no way.

Must be a mistake. Your mind is playing tricks.

Disdain. Laughter. Curses.

"Traitor".

No matter how hard you fight it, your eyes fall shut. With a soft sigh, you smile, amused at yourself. The blanket is soft against your cheeks, your mind spinning happily as exhaustion takes over.

You're mistaken.

"The pinky is next. You're still not giving me names".

You will just sleep it off.

"Please, give me their names. Please".

Nightmares.

As you wake up in cold sweat, hastily standing up from the bed, you put pressure on your cut feet with no care, and it makes you let out a sharp cry. Shocked to your core, you fall down on your knees, screaming in pain again when your hands brace your fall, making the raw skin of your fingertips stretch and burn.

You're suddenly aware of your injuries.

Memories rush to your mind. And they're real.

They're very real.

When the door springs open and you see Si Ghost rushing over to you, his eyes tormented behind the mask, you ignore the pain in your body and quickly crawl back, dragging yourself away from him, not hiding the fear in your expression.

You can't hide it, even if you wanted to.

"No, wait. Please. Please. You're okay" he says, lowering himself to the ground in a heartbeat, his knees touching the cold floor, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible.

You don't realize you're crying until you taste it in your lips and, even then, you don't even dare breathing. You're not blinking, staring at Ghost in complete silence.

Funny. Crying will forever remind you of it.

"Please, you're safe. You're okay" he assures you, his voice rough and shaky. Ghost shifts forward slowly, but the tension in your shoulders makes him pause.

"I won't touch you. I promise" Ghost murmurs, keeping his hands on his thighs, in full display. "W-we were tricked. A mole planted evidence against you, but we found him a few days ago when we brought you here. I'm so—"

You burst out laughing.

"You're sorry" you crackle. "You're sorry".

"I won't give you any excuses. Price told me he was certain, and I— I had to do my job. Please—"

"Stay away from me".

"Please. I didn't want to do it. I'm so sorry" he pleads, his hands flat against the ground. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Johnny and I. You won't forgive us and we know this. Lovie, please".

Your laughter turns into sobs the longer he speaks. Lovie. It sounds so ridiculous right now that even if you're terrified of him you wish you had the strength to strangle him.

Alas, the lack of fingernails makes it difficult.

You press yourself against the bed, unable to stand up, unable to look at Ghost as he stares at you. You can just shake your head, your shoulders never relaxing, your entire body coiled with pain and grief.

Ghost moves slowly as he takes his mask off, leaving it on the floor in front of him. His eyes are downcast, his blonde hair messy and you can see he's been barely eating, however long you've been here.

He looks like shit.

Perhaps, if this was a few days ago, you'd be making a silly joke so he doesn't feel so vulnerable. You would've kissed him and played with his blonde eyelashes until he rolled his eyes, and playfully smacked your hand away.

Now, mask or no mask, you don't know this man.

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic

styling decisions bc this reader is traumatized as hell. and no, no forgiving.

it'll stay for a bit. you'll be noticing the change in reader's emotions through it!

[nenayaquisieras]

Simon has always been confused on why you gift him toys. Sure, most of the gifts you gave him were some of the things he liked. Bourbon, masks, gloves, make up for him to smudge his eyes with, some daggers and knives. Things that we're useful for him, just him. But later, you gifted him a toy airplane. He makes a comment about it, saying he is not a child anymore and you were better off giving it to Johnny instead.

"No, this is specifically for you, take it."

When he gets to him room, he walks toward his trash can, opening it with the tip of his boot. He gives one more look at the toy, his mood souring before throwing it into the trash. He goes on about his day, training, signing paper work, drills. Doing anything to ignore the pain stinging memories that the toy brought back. Emotions that were buried thousands of feet deep it could reach hell itself. Later, he lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the cylinder shape that's calling for him in his peripheral.

Fuck.

He pulls the covers off vigorously and stomps over to the trash can. He is standing over it like he's trying to intimidate it, as if it was an enemy he's trying to get rid of in battle. To anyone else, the scene would look comical.

He sighs to himself and reaches down to take out the toy he so cruelly threw away. He sets it on his desk and quickly walks toward his bed, facing away from his desk.

The next day, he wakes up feeling different. He swears he sees his room more vibrant, more lively. That energy follows him through out the day, having his other teammates notice his rather bright mood.

You catch him in the hallway. Pulling him aside to ask him about the paper work you left at his desk this morning. Of course, he notices the way you smile brightly, more so than usual. But he notices that you're not looking at him. More like looking at something next to him.

"What's got you so cheery?"

You turn to look up at him, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"I just..." You take a quick glance at the spot next to him, before bringing your eyes back upon his.

"I just hope you liked your gift." The same bright smile appearing on your face.

He stares at you, examining your words. Your expression.

You think you see his eyes crinkle a bit.

"Yea,"

"I liked it."

[jodoesnew]

Would buy them in an instant

[yandereforme]

Yandere Batfam x Reborn! Neglected! Reader

Day 0: Life 1

TW: grooming, death (not in great detail but characters die), angst

Your first life had become a shitshow that was kicked off by a car crash. The car crash killed your mother and injured you. However, it also lead to a mess when your father was asked to donate blood.

You see, your parents had a drunk threesome with Bruce Wayne, and turned out you were bruises biological child. This led to being shipped off to live with him.

You try not to think about how your father, the man who raised you, didn’t fight for custody. You try not to think about how he didn’t even speak to you after the funeral and how no matter how many times you called, he never picked up.

Bruce didn’t raise you. You were 13 when your mother died and you knew from the beginning that he did not want you around. He mostly had his butler Alfred look after you, even picking you up from the airport when you first arrived. Your impression of him was that he was closed off with everyone.(that was only partially true. He was closed off, but he was a lot more open with the people he considered his kids.)

None of your siblings tried or even thought about having a relationship with you. You tried reaching out, desperate in your grief for some sort of connection, but they weren’t there. They were like ghosts watching you, drown in a sea of loneliness and grief.

You didn’t chase after them. Your mother had taught you better than to beg for love.

You search for validation in school, but you would never be the popular type. Besides, moving to Gotham, had put you at a disadvantage as you were surrounded by children who had grown up together, most of which were rich kids raised rich. You felt utterly alone, and it was very hard, not to sink into the depression that you could feel at the back of your mind. The only kindness came from your math, teacher, Mr. Jamison, who would let you sit in his classroom during lunch and was always willing to listen to you.

It wasn’t until years later that you’d understand he was grooming you. He never got far, since he died in a scarecrow attack two years after you arrived, but as you got older, you recognized how odd it was for a teacher to be that touchy or How weird it was for a teacher to offer for student to stay at their house

You left home at 17 with the suitcase that you had had at 13 when you arrived and a positive pregnancy test that you took after a one night stand. Alfred was the only one who said goodbye to you.

Out of all of the people in that house, Alfred was one of the only people you could forgive. He tried at least. You recognized that.

After you moved, you got into magic, which eventually led to your patron, a goddess whose name was lost to time who had been trapped for centuries in a statue, you found at an old Wayne property that hadn’t been visited in decades. Your patron taught you to harvest the magic that was already in you, giving you a feeling of being alive that you’ve never truly experienced before.

You had two beautiful months with your twins and your patron. Two months of bliss and happiness and feeling truly loved for the first time in a long time.

Two months of true joy until the day your son was killed during a battle between the justice league and a sorcerer

Your patron had taught you about magic and how your type of magic could call on other pees and tell your emotions amplified your magic. You would only realize too late that the magic user had its own patron, a being of insanity and chaos that saw your grief and tried to funnel magic into you to cause problems. They didn’t realize the madness that they had given to the sorcerer would funnel into you (then again, you had never been the most stable)

You became like a supernova, destroying the world with your grief. You took over the world and coded it in blood with only your rage as a guide. Most of the world was rubble by the time you started to calm down, but the madness in your mind and in your heart never ended.

You spent almost 18 years ruling over the world in your hatred and madness. The survivors who you did not take as yours formed or rebellion that you often sent your servants to fight. You preferred to look for ways to bring back your son or to spend time making sure your daughter was safe. You wanted to shield her from all of the monsters outside. (Shield her from the monster you became)

She did know, though. She knew about the madness that consumed you and the atrocities that you had done. She saw the flickers behind your eyes, the constant fear in your gaze. She saw your pain. She never saw you as a monster, always seen you as her mother, but she knew you were not Good for the rest of the world. You were a good mother, but you were not a good person

You never realized her friendship with the rebellion. You never heard about how she would sneak down to the dungeons where your servants kept rebels. You didn’t know about her friendship with Bart Allen. Didn’t know about how she confided in him about your tragedy, even if her version of events was distorted. Your daughter never truly knew everything that happened to you. She didn’t know anything about her father. (a one night stand that had been more of an act to reclaim your power and independence than it had been about any real desire or love.) she didn’t know how her brother had died, only that it had been sudden and that the justice league had been involved (She knew your grudge against them for her brothers death. She just didn’t know that her brother had been collateral damage.)

Your daughter died during one of the only fights against the rebellion that you ever joined in. She died from a ricocheted bullet bleeding out in your arms as you tried desperately to help her. Your magic ran wild, energy swirling in the air. (Unknowingly fueling the Time Machine the rebels built to send Bart back)

You didn’t feel the tug on your magic as the machine activated, but you did feel when your madness was ripped from you, and you could finally see everything you had done with clear eyes. You screamed and grief and pain, unaware of the red haired boy with tears in his eyes watching you before he turned and ran through the portal the machine made. You were unaware of the machine, getting ready to explode, but your patron, who had become so weak after spending so long tugging at your madness, gathered the last of her magic and attached your soul to the machine.

You felt a light kiss on your forehead and a whisper of “Stay safe my priestess. Find peace and happiness in this new life.” Before the world shattered and everything went white.

You wake up abruptly, your skin against cold linoleum and itchy fabric that you remembered oh so well pressed tightly against your skin. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you see a dead man’s face looking down at you with concern.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Mr. Jamison asked, his unshaven face looking the same as when you were fourteen.

[imaginarytree]

Flame Reaver!Phainon who freezes as soon as he lays eyes on you when he first heard of outlanders in Amphoreus because it had never happened before in any cycle

Flame Reaver!Phainon who immediately began following you around in the shadows to make sure you're no illusion created by the Titans to make him go mad

Phainon who clings to you and protects you like it's his whole purpose in life to do so

Phainon who falls in love with you all over again even if you aren't the you he knew

Flame Reaver!Phainon who drew his greatsword at everyone but never once pointed it at you despite the fact you were an "enemy"

Flame Reaver!Phainon who showed his identity to you trying to be a substitute of Phainon to get to be with you when he went in Nikador's trial

Astral Express!Reader who wasn't stupid to not know he wasn't the Phainon she spent time with yet kept it a secret because it wasn't her place to tell

Flame Reaver!Phainon who reminds Reader of the Kevin Kaslana of her world so she couldn't possibly let him go without pampering him a bit

Astral Express!Reader who gave him a semblance of the life he'd lost so long ago and reinforced his resolve to fullfill his goal

Flame Reaver!Phainon who's dull yet ever so striking blue eyes followed her every move to ensure her safety because he was afraid that if the cycle repeats again she might not appear before him again

Phainon who buried himself in your warm embrace after he failed the trial for the comfort only you were able to give him

Flame Reaver and Phainon who cannot bear to lose you who finally gave him hope

Astral Express!Reader who unintentionally became their sun who brightened their path once again

i'm insane for this man🥲

probably ooc but let me be delulu in peace

[3amfanfiction]

So Simon Riley is THE strict daddy dom and he flourishes in that role. There’s no one made for it quite like him.

But our baby is traumatized, folks.

He’s seen things that no one would ever want to have seen. And that leaves scars. And with how he treats you in the bedroom (with your enthusiastic consent) sometimes his feelings will come forward in an unexpected way.

You were both breathing heavily, coming down from an intense session, neither of you able to move quite yet in order to get cleaned up.

After a minute you were once more in your body and you look over to Simon to check in. He’s normally up before you, getting the washcloth, holding a cup of water for you to drink, soft touches brushing over any lingering marks, sweet words being murmured.

To your surprise he’s still in the same position, breath continuing slightly too fast to be normal. Simon? Hesitantly, your hand stretches across the bed to rest your fingertips on his wrist, your touch as soft as possible.

You know for sure something is wrong when he pulls back from your touch, as if ashamed.

Simon, sweetheart, is everything okay? When there’s no response you switch tactics. Scooting as close as you dared while still not touching him, you begin to talk.

‘You did so great for me baby and no one is mad at you. You were absolutely perfect.’ ‘You made me feel so good and gave me exactly what i wanted.’ ‘You’re so good to me sweetheart. You’re SO good.’ ‘Can i touch you?’

When he finally nods, his breathing becoming steadier as you ramble soothing affirmations, you don’t waste any time before placing your hand gently on his wrist. You start stoking back and forth, dragging your fingers and palm along his forearm.

There we go, love. Everything is gonna be okay. I loved every part of that and i love every part of you okay?

When he finally moves its to pull you to his chest, your face tucked into his shoulder before he rolls over you, cocooning you in his arms, sandwiched between his body and the bed. His arms tighten around you before he lets out a shaky breath and settles in for the next little bit, still focusing on your soothing words and your hands stroking his back softly.

He’s so strong for you, all the time. And every once in a while you get to be strong for him, too.

Next || Story Repository

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Jetlagged — Campbell Bain x Reader

(Inspired by Andy and Apirl's situation after Andy comes back from London—when Chris Pratt left Parks and Rec to film Guardians of the Galaxy—and Andy is severely jetlagged.)

Summary: Campbell has been away for a DJ competition and when he gets back he's always falling asleep which cuts the couple's time together since they don't live together.

Warning: Joke about going off of meds for sake of sex drive; Mentions of Sexual Jokes, Implied Short Reader, Implied Non-Scottish Reader

(Post-Asylum; May be connected to "Sweet Jane" or read alone; If you decided to include this in Sweet Jane, this takes place between the ending of the series and the epilogue written by me.)

1995 (Eight months since the events of Takin' Over the Asylum)

"Baaaaabe." Campbell sang as a tired Y/N walked out of her room. "I am so tired, but I didn't want to sleep until you got up, babe!"

Y/N sleepily walked to him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him on the forehead before he raised himself to his knees, pulling her in and kissing her on the lips.

He had been traveling due to his job as a disk jockey for three weeks now and was quite jetlagged.

Last night, Y/N had fallen asleep on his shoulder in the middle of Nightmare on Elm Street, a ritual to watch a horror movie with a good soundtrack or score. A horror movie so Campbell can pretend to be the brave one and comfort Y/N, which was often not the case but he insisted that it was.

Campbell had looked down at her in disbelief, "Who falls asleep during Nightmare on Elm Street!?" He exclaimed as the first victim was killed... in their sleep!

Y/N had shifted and moaned softly into his neck. He had smiled down at her lovingly, stroking her hair briefly, wrapping his arms around her and he picked her up and carried her to bed.

He didn't want to wake her up so he stayed out in the living room, watching movies for the scores and soundtracks.

"Hey, how was your night-day?" She yawned, going to make some hot chocolate for them both and to bring Campbell his morning pills.

"Fine. Been rewatching my favorite scores of your creepy horror movies. Psycho's a good film but a bad representation of mental health."

"Yeah, I know, babe. So is Fatal Attraction, Psycho, The Shining—though granted it's the hotel's influence that causes it but the movie makes it seem like mental health rather the supernatural like in the book, Halloween, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and so on."

"You're weird. I love you." He grinned.

"Oh shut up." She rolled her eyes.

"How was your three weeks without your Campbell?" He teased with an overconfident flirty grin on his face but his sleepiness was written all over his face. "Unbearable? Void of my amazing sense of humor? Unsatisfactory?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Quiet. Calm." She retorted blankly, despite having been in a relationship with him for ten months, they hadn't had sex yet. Campbell often made flirtatious suggestions but he was mostly kidding, on their six month anniversary (April fourth), he could tell that something was up but she became quite quiet when she was broody, so he sat her down before they went out for their dinner and asked her what was wrong and she confessed she was worried that he wasn't satisfied in the relationship because he desperately wanted to lose his virginity and that he was turning twenty that month on the sixteenth and Y/n was still hesitant due to her ex's actions upon her and Campbell swore he wouldn't actively pressure her or cheat on her and he hadn't.

"So, boring." Campbell said, starting to drift off.

"No, Cam. You need to take your pills before you mess up your pill schedule." Y/N said, hurrying to him with his pills.

"But it's so much better if I don't." He smirked, turning so he flopped on the couch and pulled Y/N on top of him, resting his hands on her thighs, he sat up, "Without them, my drive's higher."

"Campbell." Y/N said in a scolding voice.

"Come on, baby." He murmured, kissing Y/N's neck. 

Y/N pushed Campbell on his back, still straddling him as she gave him a fierce and stern look, "Campbell David Bain! You need those pills to manage your disorder. I love you and your disorder, I love you with all your flaws and quirks, I love you will all your light and all your darkness, but these," She shook the pill bottle in his face, "keep you from having manic episodes! The radio can only do so much! This is medicine! And if I find out, you stop taking them for a higher libido, I will tie you to a chair, force them into your mouth and pour water on your face until you swallow it!"

Campbell swallowed, taking stuttering short breathes, "Y/N, I totally hear you but I'm not going to lie, what you're doing right now and what you're saying," He gestured to where she was straddling him, "is really turning me on."

"Do you understand me!?" She said, loudly.

"Yes! I do. I'm sorry. Babe, you either need to stop pinning me down like this or I'm going to explode. I'm a twenty-year-old virgin for God sake." He whined out.

She sighed and sat up and he followed. He cupped her face and kissed her gently on the lips. He held out his hand and she handed him the pills. He took the recommended dosage and stuck his tongue out at the taste. Y/n giggled and pecked his lips before going to get their hot chocolate now that the milk on the stove was hot.

She brought it back and handed him his in his Radio Scotland mug. He didn't drink it yet, he just watched her sit next to him.

Then he leaned over, putting his hand to the cheek away from him to turn her head towards him and kissed her quickly but passionately on the lips. "I love you too." He said, earnestly, "With all your darkness and your damage. For all your trauma. For all that happened to you and I'm sorry you had to do it alone. As for all that will happen to you, I will be there for you every step of the way. Forever."

She leaned back and blinked at him. "Forever?"

He smiled and nodded, "Forever or as long as you'll have me."

"You need to get on my schedule for that to happen." 

"Mmm-hmm." He groaned.

 "I wish I could spend it all with you to help you stay up..." She said, she trailed off as she realized what she was insinuating. "But you can't. You have to go to your flat eventually."

"What if I don't?" He said. "What if we spent the day, moving my stuff here. So I could live here with you... you know your cousin moved out a few months ago... still no pressure to have sex. Just cuddling and when or if you're ready, I'll be here, totally, utterly, in love with you."

"You really think you can stand being around me all day?"

"I'm pretty sure I should be the one answering that question. I'm the more... er, extroverted of us two."

"I could never tire of you."

"You'll be the first, then. I annoyed my parents so much they wanted me to move all the way to Perth." He joked.

"I annoyed my parents so much they sent me to an asylum no where near where they live all because I wouldn't talk." She countered.

"Mmm. Guess, we're both just annoying." He shrugged and kissed her.

"Not to me you're not." She said against his lips.

He pulled back, "I, uh, I have like twenty-five minutes before the medicine fully kicks in. Do you want to go to my place and start packing first or do you just want to snog on this couch?"

She kissed him, pushing him slightly so they both fell on the couch, kissing, passionately.

--

They called Francine, Rosalie, and Eddie and with their help they packed up Campbell's flat while Campbell kept getting distracted and goofing off with Y/n, kissing her, hugging her, and joking around with her, distracting her from packing.

"Campbell! If you don't start taking this seriously, you won't be able to move out today!" Eddie scolded him for the fifth time in an hour.

Campbell dropped his head against Y/n's shoulder as he had his arms wrapped around her waist, behind her and whined.

Ultimately, it was Rosalie who did most of packing and Eddie and Rosalie's husband, Jim carried in the boxes while Campbell carried the smaller boxes due to him being a, as Y/n called him, "matchstick man" because he was so skinny though he declared he was the strongest man of all time, teasingly before flopping back in a chair and pulling Y/n on his lap.

"You can't get rid of me now, babe." He teased as she moved her legs over his lap and the chair arm, their foreheads touching.

"Good." She said, she stroked his floppy bangs so she could look him in his brown eyes. "And you're stuck with me now."

"Good." He grinned.

When Francine, Rosalie, Jim, and Eddie found them, Y/n had fallen asleep with Campbell in a sleepy but still awake state. He muttered goodbyes to the others before picking Y/n up again and carrying her back into her room... their room. He laid her down and laid next to her, snuggling up to her again, making her stir slightly and he gave her a peck on the lips which she sleepily reciprocated and he kissed her forehead and then her nose before pulling her closer and falling asleep. 

[satorusluver]

Sorry but "slightly evil" canon L is just so interesting to me.

The L who calls himself justice, but the real reason he's spent his life catching criminals isn't out of a sense of justice; it's because it's fun for him.

The L who's willing to lie and cheat and break the law, to use thieves and conmen to achieve his goals. Because it's all a game to him and he'll do anything to win.

The L who's incapable of trusting anyone, perhaps partially because he projects his own sly nature onto others, and because he's had no one get close enough to him to change his mind.

The L who doesn't know how to love in a healthy way, or how to love at all, and isn't sure he's even capable of it, but who knows that he feels something for you he's never felt for anyone else.

The L who would have no idea what to do with the emotions he feels for you, who wouldn't know how to open up his heart and his life and be vulnerable with another person, but who finds himself for the first time in his life wanting to try.

The L who knows he is a monster, and has always been content with being one, until you managed to work your way into his heart.

[velvetwilde]

What was the reason to look this damn hot?

[ciy0]

i just thunk a thought so please bare with me

I’m thinking about how Mingyu is definitely the type of guy that’s drawn to someone who’s severely lacking in the love department or who might’ve been hurt deeply in the past. He doesn’t do it consciously, but he just starts to notice you. How sometimes you have this far away look in your eyes, or how you keep your head down when talking to others or god forbid he overhears you demeaning yourself disguised in jest. He so full of love I see him gravitating towards someone who’s cup it’s damn near on empty but trying their best to save every last drop and he just wants to pour everything thing he has into it and then some; till it’s overflowing.

He doesn’t even realize his initial interest blossoming into a full blown crush. He wants to be the shoulder you cry on, he wants to carry any burdens you have, he wants to see that smile that reaches your eyes be directed at him. He just wants you bursting at the seams from happiness but he’s a little selfish in the fact that he wants it to be by his hand.

He notices the little things and big things about you that may go unnoticed by others and finds himself worrying over you and rooting for you even before you both have a proper conversation. Wondering if you ate, if you had a good day today, if you enjoyed the new episode of that anime he overheard you liked (he started watching it too), if you slept well even though the most you’ve both uttered to each other was a simple pleasantry in passing and a bow.

His mind reels when you kindly pick up things people accidentally dropped or that one time you helped clean up the coffee he’d spilt on the floor without a word. Or even that time when you offered a staff member your umbrella on a rainy day saying you had two, just for him to see you drenched in the rain a couple blocks away as his driver took him home (once recovered from the shock he shot out of the car running back to where he saw you last but you were long gone). His heart clenched painfully when he heard the reason he hadn’t seen you around the week after that was because you had come down with a nasty cold. You give and give without ever expecting anything in return; without thinking you deserve anything in return. But who’s giving to you?

He finds his gaze wondering off in your direction during social gatherings. His own features softly morphing into a for-longing smile as he sees you enjoy yourself with your group of friends, hearing that rare burst of genuine laughter at whatever you guys were joking about. He cursed his cowardice, not being able to approach confidently like how he’d imagine in his head so many times. He had some mutual friends maybe that’d be a good place to start—

He was startled out of his reverie as Seungwan pointed out his goofy expression teasing “What’s got you so distracted lover boy?” Mingyu ops to just huff a smile in into his drink as he bashfully looked away.

You, it was you who had him like this

[empress-ruby]

Me: I don't have a type

Also me:

I love traumatized blondes with good fashion sense✨️

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Hiiii I recently found your account and love your writing.

Would you be able to write something angsty for Levi where the reader gets seriously injured while out on a mission? I’d like it to be really angsty but whatever you want to do I’m good with!

Hi lovely anon, thank you so much for your kind words and this request!! I've dabbled in angst here and there, but this is definitely the darkest I've gone. I was surprised to find I really enjoyed writing it! Maybe there's more angst in my future hm...

Anyways THANK YOU again for sending this, I love hearing from readers and love requests! I'm sorry that it took me so long to get back to you, I hope you still see this and that you enjoy it if you do!

don't fall away from me: Levi x Scout!Reader angst

[tw: hurt/no comfort, heavy angst as requested!, injury/gore, spoilers for No Regrets, mentioned (not actual) vomiting // wc: 2k // ao3 // set before the fall of Shiganshina]

It wasn't often that you and Levi were separated for missions these days. A combination of luck and called-in favors from the Captain meant that most days and nights you were by each other's side, sometimes worse for wear, but together, at least.

But luck didn't last forever, and Levi wasn't all-powerful. You had been sent on a long-term mission beyond the walls, leading a troop of Scouts to establish an outpost farther than the Regiment had ever been able to put down roots. It was risky, but if successful, would pay off immediately, filling in new corners of the Eldian map. Levi stayed behind, part of Erwin's private detail as the Commander lobbied for more funding.

Levi hated it. Hated the pompous bastards he had to deal with, the tasteless displays of wealth in the inner walls, and worst of all, that it kept him from you. But you had reassured him as you always did, strong arms around his neck and soft lips against his. "I'll be home soon, Levi. Wait for me." He saw your squad off, raised his hand in a stern wave, watching until you and your horse disappeared over the horizon.

It wouldn't last forever, he reminded himself. You were tough. So was he- a few weeks away was nothing in the grand scheme of things. And he'd seen you take down enough titans to know that they should be afraid of you. The memory made his chest swell with a quiet pride. You were a damn good soldier, and you were his. He'd make sure to remind you of both when you came home.

That was the hope that kept Levi patient as he waited out the weeks. Once the political posturing was over, he took his stress out on the spiders that had taken up residence in the rafters of the scouts' barracks. Hange was heard laughing quietly to Moblit that HQ was always cleanest when you were away. Luckily for them, Levi didn't overhear, too busy chasing his worry away with a dustrag.

The morning of your squad's return dawned clear, the sun cresting the Walls like it anticipated your arrival as much as Levi did. The Captain had been up before then- fussing over his hair and straightening his cravat needlessly, wanting to appear cool and calm when he rode out to meet you. You were sure to tease him otherwise. It had become something of a game to see who could spot the other first at your homecomings, waiting just inside the gate or, if impatience got the best of you, riding out to meet the other on some pretense.

He sipped from the teacup between his fingers, hiding a smile as he thought about the look on your face. Your eyes always lit up, your grim on-duty expression melting into relief, excitement- love, when you saw him again. He was almost sure it was love. Little as he knew about the subject, anyway. Hoped it was, would've prayed it was if he had any faith. Because Levi loved you. He hadn't admitted it yet, but the weeks of separation had shown him just how much he had grown to rely on you, to cherish your shared moments, the light you shone in the dark corners of his life.

Maybe he didn't need to seem cool and calm, this time. He allowed himself to believe that you'd missed him as much as he missed you. That certainty carried the Captain to his horse, through the gates, out on a hard ride through the outskirts of the walled city, until he saw the blurry forms of your squad through the morning mist. His carefully fixed hair fell back into messy bangs across his forehead as he urged his horse faster, his body taut with both exertion and excitement. You were almost home.

He searched for your face in the crowd of green-cloaked soldiers to no avail. Maybe you were scouting ahead, or keeping watch from the rear. He shook off the icy tendrils of fear that crept down his neck. Surely that was all. Levi looked to the rest of your squad, but they didn't meet his eyes. Some of them limped, some held bandaged limbs, others leaned on their comrades. The tendrils turned into choking vines.

Levi reared his horse in front of the ragged procession and leveled them with a glare. "Where is she?" Silence. He gritted his teeth, his voice a sword. "I won't repeat myself."

A single Scout stepped out from the ranks. Levi recognized her as a young recruit; this would have been one of her first missions. She gestured at a covered wagon hitched to the horse behind her. "She saved us, Captain." The girl's voice wavered, then broke. "We wouldn't be here if she hadn't-"

Levi didn't know if she finished her sentence. He was already off his horse and shoving past her, his mind a wall of white noise. Somehow he was standing beside the wagon, ripping the cover back with shaking hands-

In the days and weeks that followed, every Scout from that ill-fated mission would swear on their lives that the Captain maintained his composure in that moment. Whether in solidarity or out of the fear that came from watching the collapse of something unbreakable. Every last person there that day would deny that they ever heard Levi sob.

The sound tore from him helplessly, choked horror in the back of his throat. Your bloodless lips were parted, your hair strewn across the packs of gear they’d propped you on. Your arms lay limply atop a rough blanket that hid everything below your chest. When Levi reached for your hand, pressing it to his cheek, you were cold. He whispered your name, but you didn’t stir.

With effort, Levi tore his gaze from your body and whirled on the soldier that had revealed you. “Tell me what happened.”

In fits and starts, she managed the story. It had happened so fast, she said, the night watch asleep in the newly constructed outpost, the early sunrise revealing a trio of titans surrounding the camp, all teeth and eager eyes. 15m class and hungry, scrabbling at their tents, waking up to a nightmare.

You had slept in your gear- Levi clenched his fists against a sudden surge of nausea. You always teased him about his habit, sleeping sitting up or fully clothed, ready for anything. But out there, on your own, you had done the same. Did you think of him as you fell asleep? The girl was still speaking, her gaze far away. You had sprung into action, using the titans themselves as anchors to fly at their nape out there in the vast flatness of the wild.

You dispatched two quickly- of course, Levi thought, of course she did- but the third- the girl stopped to drag the back of her hand across her mouth, swallowing a dry heave. Levi had to resist the urge to shake her, to make her keep talking- but she soon continued in a whisper.

"The last titan caught her in it's teeth. It was a blur, we didn't see, only heard a- heard a snap, and a scream... we cut it's Achilles tendons, brought it to it's knees, and she fell..." The scout trailed off, her jaw working soundlessly as she remembered. "The wound, wounds- they weren't clean, sir." Her voice was a strained apology. She wobbled, clearly spent, and Levi turned away.

He stepped back toward the wagon where you lay. Levi took a slow breath, reaching into the depths of himself to find the strength to look at what hid beneath the blanket. He peeled it back, hissing through his teeth when the fabric caught on patches of drying, tacky blood.

It took a moment for Levi to process what he was seeing. Your lower body was a torn mess of crimson, contrasting hideously against the stark white of exposed bone protruding from your mangled calf. He could see the titan's attack written on your flesh- the purpling crush of teeth along your thighs and the shredded aftermath of those jaws tearing down to your ankles. The smears of dirt and gore told him how you were dragged along, out of the titan's clenching jaw, off the battlefield.

This is a dream. A nightmare. Levi told himself, clinging to it with a childish desperation that he thought had been beaten out of him long ago. He tried to swallow but his throat had gone cotton-dry. His tongue cleaved mute to the roof of his mouth. This isn't real.

He blinked, and suddenly it was Furlan in your shredded uniform, or you in his. A dizzy panic clawed up Levi's chest. He shook his head, looked away and back- and the scene changed. The hollowed pallor of your cheeks was that of his mother's corpse, a dim memory of hell. He thought he might be sick, thought wildly that he couldn't vomit in front of the other Scouts, couldn't let them see such filthy weakness- but that was forgotten when you opened your eyes.

You stared blindly at the wide, wide sky, and Levi saw Isabel in your place. Not again. Please, not again. He watched your chest rise and fall like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth, like he was the one willing it to continue. Please.

"Le-vi...?" Your voice shocked him into sanity. He cupped your cheeks in trembling hands.

"I'm here, I'm here," he rasped. "I've got you. Stay with me."

You slowly dragged your fingers through the blood on your uniform, then held them in front of your face. You didn't seem to understand where it came from, what had happened. Levi moved into your sightline. You reached for him, but your head lolled and your arm fell back in the next instant. Levi caught your hand and lifted it the rest of the way, pressing your bloody fingers to his lips.

"I'm here," he repeated, fixated again on the defiant movement of your chest as you slipped back into unconsciousness. "I'll protect you."

The other soldiers were shuffling about, some trying to quiet their nervous horses. Levi forced himself to inject authority into his voice, to project some stability on the surface as he crumbled within, never taking his eyes from your face. "I'm riding back with you. Let's go."

Eager to go home, the camp moved quickly at his order. Someone hitched Levi's horse to the wagon were you lay, seeing that the Captain wasn't about to leave your side.

Your body seemed to shift before Levi's eyes, a mist poured into the shape of the ones he had already failed, already lost. Their corpses laid atop yours, or beside you, or sprawled at your feet until he forced them away, the sight of your breathing like a talisman. Your blood dried and flaked on his cheek, but he hardly felt the itch. His cravat lay abandoned on the filthy floor.

Every jolt of the wheels made him grit his teeth, fighting down a surge of rage at the horses, the stones that made them stumble, the ground itself for not softening for you. He wanted to carry you home himself, wanted to tear off his own legs and offer them up for you. He wanted to wake up.

He spoke to you, the words pouring out, unstoppable. Vows to protect you, spiraling into impossibility- he'd kill every last titan to make sure they never touched you again, he'd give you his blood to replace what you'd lost, he'd burn down the world to keep you warm.

Confessions that had never passed his lips before, spilling into the space between you, overflowing helplessly in a whisper you couldn't hear. "I love you. Did you know that? Could you tell?" He choked on it. "I fucking love you. I didn't want to, but I do, and I need you to come back, so I can tell you to your goddamn face."

He couldn't stop touching you, kneeling at your side, his legs long gone numb. He brushed the stringy hair from your forehead, warmed your hands in his, smoothed the blanket back over your wounds. When there was nothing left to do, he did it all over again, repeating the words until they hung in the air and piled over your body, still breathing, only just.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Please.