i swear this is emotional abuse

Shit Abled People Say #353

Mum: Is the psych ward letting you exercise? I’m worried they’re not understanding how much your mental illness is tied to your weight! Imagine how happy you’d be if you lost a few stone!

Me: *has been suffering from mental health issues since I was a child, long before I was overweight, and mainly due to ongoing emotional abuse*
*is agoraphobic and finds going outside terrifying*
*has told her for years that my mental health has never been tied to my weight*
*has hypotonia which makes exercise difficult*

Me: … Sure.

You’re Safe

Prompt from anon: doing the prompt-thing? If so, I’d like to request 2, 18, 86 and 94 for Jughead. Thanks!

2 - “Hey, hey, calm down. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
18 - “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
86 - “Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”
94 - “I had a bad dream again.”

A/N: You guys are going to love this if you like emotional. I also changed “they” from the first one into “he”. Hope that’s okay :)

Fandom: Riverdale

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Characters: Jughead Jones, Reggie Mantle (a/n: sorry not sorry)

Warnings: Emotionally and physically abusive ex-boyfriend; talking about it; swearing; forcefully making out; mentions of sex

if you’re in a bad situation, know that I love you and you can always talk to me <3

Italics are either a flashback or a dream.

—-

Originally posted by jughexd-jones


You woke up in the middle of study hall from taking a nap with a jolt. You scanned the area to make sure nobody noticed and it looked like nobody did. It was always the same memory, the same night just replaying in your head.

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corn fields (pt.8) // k.j.w

✩ Scenario: Bobby x You

✩ Genre: Angst

✩ Word Count : 12 824

✩ Warning: Abuse, Uncensored Swearing, Suicidal Thoughts

Corn Fields Playlist

Dedicated to my homegirl @bobbae-kim and my cute lil honey @jiwon-and-chips and @chlsdaffytrn (okay but girl you are so cute i wanna squish you)

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part 6 // Part 7

Originally posted by jiwontrash

“The first time I fell in love was at the tender age of six years old.”

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Don’t You Ever Mess With My Girl

A/N: Angry Dean makes me weak because that fucker can scare the shit out of anyone when someone messes with his girl. Unedited. I think this will be a two part series…if y’all want…. 

Dean x Reader

Words Count: 1961

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse. swearing, a little bit of violence 

Dean knew that there was something wrong with you the minute he mentioned stopping in your hometown in order to stay the night at a motel, it was a 15 hour drive back to the Bunker and he had no desire to get home so quickly, especially if it meant getting to spend more time alone with you. He watched as you fidgeted slightly in the passenger seat of Baby, rarely meeting his eye as you watched the familiar streets and stores go by. He parked the car into a small motel and watched you worriedly as you smoothed down your windblown hair, a forced smile on your pretty face as you grabbed all your shit from the car.

“Wanna go to the bar up the road or something? Celebration for a successful hunt,” he suggested, wanting nothing more to make you happy and comfortable. Both you and Dean loved going to Bar’s. Something about the classic rock, the smell of liquor and sweat, as well as the seductive nature that naturally came to you as soon as you stepped through the door. You were both in your element when you each had a glass of whiskey in your hands. You quickly nodded to Dean’s suggestion, more than willing to have the comfort of alcohol and Dean nearby.  

…….

Dean’s jaw nearly unhinged from his jaw as you stepped out of the bathroom. The last time he has seen you all dressed up like this was when he had first met you a couple years ago, trying to flirt your way to get info out of a cop. With black leggings that hugged your thighs and hips perfectly, a baby pink crop top that brought a level of … innocence that nearly brought him to his knees. Your hair was curled and with a few swipes of mascara, a poppin’ highlighter on your cheekbone and a smug grin gracing your perfect lips, Dean was sure this night was either going to end really badly or really well. He was incredibly grateful that he was sitting on one of the beds or surely he would’ve collapsed. He quickly cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Just felt like getting dressed up a bit tonight. Why? Can’t handle it, Winchester?” He watched as you slid on your black combat boots, the skin on your stomach was smooth and looked as if it was incredibly soft. Dean had to force himself to keep his hands to his side, not wanting to ruin the friendship that you two had built over the years. Dean, known for his womanizing tendencies, promised himself he would never cross that line with you. Respecting you too much as a person, as a woman, as a friend and fellow hunter. But if you ever did advance on him, he was not going to object in the slightest, and tonight, he prayed to every higher power that did or did not exist – that you would realize just how much he did care for you – how much he did like you in that way.

“Oh sweetheart, you wish,” he forced himself to chuckle before swiping the keys off the small kitchen table, grabbing his jacket and headed towards Baby. What the hell was going on? What were you trying to do?

As soon as he parked in front of the bar, he watched as you stepped out. Confidence radiated off of you in waves, but it was different this time. It wasn’t your usual aura, and it made Dean nervous. There was something you weren’t telling him. Something that was making you into this woman that… seemed forced. He trailed along as he followed you inside, quickly ordering a couple shots of tequila, and that’s when Dean’s suspicions were confirmed. You only drank tequila when you were nervous and slightly scared, when you were out of your comfort zone. He asked for a bottle of beer, wanting to keep an eye on you.

You avoided anyone that you knew from your past life, ears alert for familiar voices. You were on edge. You didn’t want to force Dean to keep driving, and honest to god he probably thought he was doing you a good deed by passing through your hometown. Our past lives weren’t a luxury we often got to reminisce about. But the boys had no idea what it was that caused you to hate this place that you no longer called home, so much. They had no idea that you dreaded the thought of home. And being here, with Dean, made you nervous as hell.

“Hey Brady! Nice to see you, man!” The bartender yelled out and immediately you felt your heart stutter. You unconsciously gripped Dean’s arm, causing him to slightly lean back in surprise.

“No questions, we’ll talk later. Play along,” You ordered, forcing yourself to smile and glance at a wide eyed Dean who had no idea what the hell was going on. He nodded slightly. You casually leaned in closer to him, feeling your cheeks warm slightly as you flashed him a flirtatious smile, reaching for his beer and took a swig. Your fingers trailed lightly on Dean’s arm, your breath slightly hitched at the feel of his muscular arms from years of hunting.

“Y/N? Is that you?” You heard the familiar voice ask. You flinched as the man’s hand slightly rested on your shoulder. Dean immediately took notice of that and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. There standing next to you was your ex-boyfriend – Brady. The guy who ruined home for you. Surely you could blame it on the fact that you were young and naïve and were desperate to find love, and along came Brady with his sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes and a sweet smile. But underneath his physical attractiveness was something much more cynical, much darker than anyone would have known. The relationship had started out great, and you had never trusted anyone so much in your life (at the time) and eventually gave your heart, body and soul to him. But things started getting weird when Brady went off to college. He would come back home during the holidays and say things that… broke your heart. That made you insecure and that tested your limits – he claimed his words were a joke, but they always sliced your heart like a knife. Always commenting on the way you looked, acted, the way you ate and what you ate. Eventually it became a warzone of a relationship that you couldn’t get out of. Not wanting to admit defeat as well as the embarrassment of being with someone so emotionally abusive was humiliating to say the least. You never thought you were going to be one of those girls, and you never listened to any of your friends who warned you against him, and eventually lost them all somewhere along the way. Brady stripped you of your identity. Twisted and mangled you with his words that you felt like there was nothing left of you. You had loved him so much and gave him all of you – only to lose yourself completely. It wasn’t until you joined the hunting world after losing your parents to a werewolf, that you began to piece yourself back together with the help of the Winchesters – though they never knew it and still had no idea. Dean was especially helpful. Praising you as your progressed as a hunter constantly, and he also never failed to make you feel beautiful – whether that be at 6 in the morning after coming back from a run with Sam, or completely hungover and sprawled on one of the couches in the library, your friendship with Dean was something you cherished greatly. Your love for the eldest Winchester inevitable the more you spent time with him. You both worked extremely well together. Words often not being needed because you both knew what the other felt more often than not.

“Hey, Brady. Nice seeing you,”

“Wow, it’s been years. You look… stunning,” he whistled out slowly, before finally taking notice of Dean. You rested a hand on Dean’s lap, hands trembling slightly at the awful memories that came back just by seeing your ex.

“This is Dean, my boyfriend,” You introduced him to a stone faced Dean, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly at how Dean already knew this man was bad news. “Dean this is Brady, ex-boyfriend,” Brady awkwardly chuckled as Dean finally stood up, being a few good inches taller than Brady and he held out his large calloused hand.

“Nice to meet you, man. What brings you both to town? It’s been ages since you’ve been back, Y/N,” Brady smiled widely as if you all were old good friends. Dean didn’t like the way Brady was looking at you. He also didn’t like the way your hands shook, or the way he could feel your racing heart thunder in your chest as he held you close. He knew he needed to get you out of there. But he also wanted to punch the dude for whatever it was he did for causing you to react this way.

“Just driving around the country. We should really get going, long drive and all,” Dean pointed out, trying to get you both out of there. He pulled a few bills out of his wallet before intertwining your hand with his. He couldn’t help but observe how natural it was for him to play a role he so badly wanted to be reality. For years he had been infatuated with you and would do just about anything to make you happy.

“Aw come on, Y/N. Stay! The night is young and we can play poker like the good old days,” Brady insisted, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from Dean. Immediately, Dean let out a groan of annoyance, knowing this was not gonna end well. Nobody grabbed his girl like that.

“Right, cause those were definitely the good old days. Look Brady, I gotta go.” You ripped your arm away from his strong grip, only to be grabbed from the waist by his slimy hands. A squeal of shock and disgust escaped your lips. Immediately Dean sprang into action, shoving Brady off of you. His brows furrowed in anger as he gently pushed you behind his large frame, shielding you from the blond haired dickhead.

“Don’t you ever touch her. Got it?” Dean sneered, his jaw tightened as he watched your ex stand himself up and clenched his fist as if he was going to take a swing. But Dean was skilled, and knew what to expect. Brady messily raised his right fist and tried to punch Dean, but was quickly taken aback as the Winchester easily twisted his arm and pressed it up against his back painfully. He slammed him onto the bar countertop and leaned in. “You’re lucky I care about her and what she thinks of me. If I ever see your face again, know that I won’t be as nice.” Dean threatened.

You watched in disbelief as Dean left a delirious Brady on the counter. Dean quickly stalked over to you, his eyes dark with anger and another emotion that you couldn’t name. He tucked you under his arm, ignoring the stares of everyone else in the car before walking out towards Baby. He didn’t say anything. He just opened your passenger door and watched as you slid in. The quiet made you uneasy.

Part Two

I Feel It Too

Summary: When (Y/N) loses her ability to feel, after being experimented on, she wonders if she is ever going to be able to feel again.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Mentions of torture

Words: 2,255

A/N: This took me forever. I really enjoyed it though. I hope you enjoy it also. Send me any requests/feedback here.

Originally posted by imaginesforlifetime

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Imagine Arthur and the knights swearing to always protect you after finding out you were abused in the past and that’s why you don’t like anyone touching you.

Originally posted by kessilover

Originally posted by moderniesm

(So an anon requested this and I honestly feel horrible that it took me so long to do something with it. Honestly to the person who requested this, I don’t know if you went through physical or emotional abuse, possibly even both, but you are so damn brave. I can’t even imagine going through that and honestly that has to be one of my greatest fears. I mean I honestly admire you so much. It takes a lot of strength and bravery to survive something like that and I am so proud of you. If you ever need anything just let me know.)

archiveofourown.org
Dragonslayer (2520 words) by InsertImaginativeNameHere [AO3]

Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Baccano!
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Isaac Dian/Miria Harvent
Characters: Isaac Dian, Miria Harvent
Additional Tags: Backstory, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Traumatic Backstory, Miria Does Not Have A Happy Time, First Meeting, Yes I know everyone writes one of these but this is a fun one, It’s fun I swear, Abusive Parents, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Why did I write this these kids deserve better?
Summary:

Isaac doesn’t even think about saving the girl, and he can’t imagine how drastically it will change his life. He just does it, because he’s like that. And so it begins.

I'm Still Angry About This

When I was 17 was when the abuse I suffered was at it’s worst. One thing that I still rage about to this day was that my parents would create situations where they would really upset me. Like, they’d tell me how lazy I was, even though they forced me to become their personal Cinderella and I did all the housework. They would also shame me for things like my depression (that they caused) and just generally emotionally abuse me.

We lived in a tiny town that was very safe, and I used to cope with the abuse by going for walks. But one of my parents’ favourite games was to push me to the edge, then refuse to allow me to leave the house to calm down.

They would do all of this then threaten to call the police if I stepped out the door. What sort of sick game is that? I’m still so angry about it. It’s absolutely fucking sick.

And because I knew that the police would always side with my parents, I had to stay. So I would just go to ny room and cry. That is until they’d come in for round 2.

This would normally entail them making fun of me for being upset and telling me how mentally ill I was.

“I just don’t know what to do with you”

The only thing they would gain fron this was power over me. I hate them so much for it

Safe Haven

(A/N): I totally relate to this scenario so much…this also took a really dark turn from the imagine but it’s still along the lines of that. I also, when writing this, grew concerned for the anon who requested this (I just hope you’re okay and not in a relationship like this)

Request: BuckyxFem!Reader where the reader is an avenger and in a really shitty (long term) relationship and Bucky really likes them and wants to help them but the reader is scared?

Warnings: Shitty boyfriend, abuse (physical and emotional), rape, swearing, protective!Bucky


Originally posted by suicidessquad

   You were absolutely in love with Bucky, to the point you’d die for that man and you knew he felt the same but there was only one problem, you had a boyfriend. 

    In the beginning you had actually loved this guy, you’d have married him had things not taken such a drastic turn. For awhile everything was going swell, the two of you were happy and in love, you had been planning out your entire future together when things started to turn to shit. 

   Your boyfriend became much more controlling, always making sure to know you were with and what you were doing. You found it a little strange but you had just dismissed it as him being overly protective and then came the manipulation. 

   He was constantly making you feel bad for things you didn’t even do, he was always making himself the victim and you the bad guy, he was starting to convince you that you didn’t matter at all. This of course raised a few red flags but you were too scared to talk to anyone in fear of what he’d do to you. Many weeks followed and suddenly he was physically assaulting you, a punch there, a kick here.

    It was actually starting to interfere with your work and your team was less than pleased when you were slacking on a mission yet again. Little did they know it was because you’d been beaten to a near bloody pulp only a few days before. But being an avenger you bounced back as quickly as you could but apparently, not fast enough for your team. 


    “I don’t know (Y/N),” Steve sighs softly, shaking his head. “You’ve been…”  

    “Off? I know. I don’t like it.” You interrupt, glaring at Steve’s boots. It’d be so easy to come clean, to tell everyone what was really going on but you were terrified absolutely petrified. 

    “Maybe you should take a break,” Steve suggests lightly. “Stay home, relax-”  

   "No!“ You nearly yell, shocking all the other avengers on the Quinjet. "I mean,” you whisper this time, “no. That won’t help, trust me.” Steve stares at you for a moment before sighing, shaking his head once again. 

    “I’m sorry (Y/N) but we can’t keep you here if your behavior continues like this. Until you can shape up you’re banned from the Avengers, got it?” You want to scream and sob as you nod, accepting Steve’s statement. This meant you’d have nowhere to run, you’d have to remain by your boyfriends side 24/7. The thought alone has tears welling within your eyes and your stomach flipping in fear. Steve gives you a sad smile before crossing over to his seat by Bucky and Sam, settling down into the chair comfortably.

    You stare at the ground for a moment longer before crossing over to your seat with numb almost robotic movements. Now that you had been kicked off the Avengers you had nowhere to run, you were going to be stuck at home 24/7 with that monster. You sigh shakily as you bury your face in your hands, wishing you could just melt away and forget all your problems. Unfortunately, the world was too cruel to do such a thing to you. 


    Two weeks you’d been stuck at your apartment, being beaten and degraded as if you were nothing more than a toy. You wanted to fight back, you sure as hell were capable enough but the fear of what he’d do to you and your family was enough to keep you silent. So everyday you dealt with the beatings, the humiliation, the harassment, and everything else this man had to throw your way. 

   You’d ignored every phone call and text from everyone in fear that answering them would only aggravate your boyfriend further. So you sat around all day, doing whatever he asked you to do in fear that he would seriously end up hurting you. Today he’d gone out for the day, most likely to go get hammered and pass out in some alleyway. So for a few hours you were free from his ministrations and you could actually relax for once. 

   You sigh shakily as you trace over one of the many bruises that littered your body, wincing when you pushed on it a little too hard. You sighed even louder as you studied your body, glancing at each bruise that covered your skin. They were an array of green, purple, and some even black and they hurt just as bad as they looked. 

   You were reaching down your leg to poke at another one when a sudden knock upon your door stopped you, causing you to sit straight up. What if it was your boyfriend, returned home early from getting drunk? You glanced around your apartment and you realized you had forgotten to clean it, now you were in for a hell of a beating. 

   You gulp as you slowly rise to your feet, hesitantly walking over to your door. Your hands are shaking as you slowly unlock the door all the while mentally preparing yourself for the beating about to come. You squeeze your eyes shut as you open the door but as you open it there was no sudden harsh voice or no fist in your hair, in fact whoever was at the door remained silent up until now, their voice quivering as they spoke. 

   “(Y/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere, it was Bucky’s, the man you loved with all your heart. You slowly crack one eye open, staring at Bucky’s face.  

   “Bucky?” You whisper in disbelief, your eyes widening in shock. “W-What are you doing here?” Bucky gulps as he looks you up and down and you suddenly realize that you aren’t wearing anything to cover your bruises and marks, all you have on is a tank top and some shorts, leaving nothing to the imagination now. 

   “…You haven’t been answering my calls…I was starting to…” Bucky trails off as he stares at your multicolored body, his eyes raking over your form once again. You feel vulnerable and you feel as though you need to cover up but you can’t, now it’s out in the open and there was no taking it back. “What are these?” Bucky asks softly as he gingerly takes ahold of your hand, his fingers gently tracing over one of your bruises. You sigh shakily, knowing it was pointless to try and lie to him, he probably already knew what they were he just needed confirmation.

   “…I think you already know…” Bucky looks back up at your face, his expression akin to that of a kicked puppy. His eyes were wide and brimming with tears and his lips were trembling as he stared at you earnestly. 

   “Was it-” Bucky swallowed hard, attempting to keep his tears down. “Was it that piece of shit you call your boyfriend?” You nod softly, tears of your own gathering within your eyes. Bucky nearly growled at this bit of information, his eyes burning with a hatred you’d never seen before. “I swear I’ll tear him to shreds!” 

   “Bucky, wait!” You place your hands on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “You can’t…you can’t interfere, please…it’s for the best.” Bucky stares at you once again, his anger melting away as his gaze connects with yours. 

   “But, (Y/N),” Bucky pleads, that puppy dog look returning once again. “You can’t keep living like this, it’s not good for you-” 

   “I know,” You sigh, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m just…I’m scared of what he’s going to do if I try to leave…” Bucky nods in understanding, his gaze sympathetic upon you. 

   “Why didn’t you tell us? We’re the Avengers for God’s sake, he could easily take him down.” You sniffle softly, wiping away at your runny nose. 

   “I didn’t want you guys to worry about me…I didn’t want to be a burden…” 

   “Oh, (Y/N),” Bucky sighs, pulling you into his chest. The man smelled like cinnamon and honey, like a safe place you could call home. You breathed in deeply letting his scent overwhelm your senses. You bury your face into his chest, finally feeling safe for once in your life, Bucky was your safe haven.

    “Please,” He whispers softly, burying his face in your most likely matted and tangled hair. “Let me help you…” 

   And wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, the overwhelming feeling of safety, the feeling of Bucky’s lips so close to your skin, you couldn’t help but agree, ready to finally end this chapter in your life and start a new one, perhaps with Bucky being your Knight in Shining armor. 

Make A Choice (Calum Hood Imagine) - Part 3

Originally posted by cashtonkinks

Summary: They thought there would be a simple way out of this, but when true faces are shown, it’s difficult to know what choice to make without causing too much damage.

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Swearing + family problems + emotional abuse/threatening + name calling + Y/N gets slapped. I’m in no way trying to romanticise any of this, I’m writing this as the story went along in real life.

A/N: This is kinda written on a personal experience so its important to me. I know this part isn’t that great, but I overthought it tbh and it came out like this, so I hope you like it. Not been proof-read.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Epilogue

Keep reading

sam-nerdinc  asked:

All of the red 💛

dammit sam….

crimson- i would have to say the emotional abuse i endured from my step mom.

light pink- yes, a wolf, a blue dragon, and a pterodactyl.  (i swear the wolf is possesed lol)

blush-nope.  

amatanth- i like seeing other people mad, but personally i like to feel sarcastic.  if thats an emotion.

cherry blossom- a bit tired…impatient. 

hollywood cerise- i dont really have any.  

razzmatazz- does anime count? im watching tokyo ghoul aright now.  i like it quite a bit.  i dont really watch tv.  although i would like to start watching hannibal. 

rose- i feel most comfortable outside, where i have a little tree fort.  i like to lay on the fallen tree and draw.  its very peaceful.

french rose- my friends and i have an inside joke; ill eat anything with a face.  although, i do like salty flavors.  wont eat spicy.  

cameo pink- favorite movie? dear god i have so many…i like the saw series, the avp series…id have to say v for vendetta.  it makes the most sense to me, and the message of it relates to me on a personal level.  

Aphobes are still saying that they aren’t gaslighting aces and aros, so excuse me for repeating myself: 

If you aren’t a survivor/victim, I don’t give a single fuck whether or not you think you’re gaslighting someone. Telling someone they aren’t being gaslit when they are is gaslighting

If someone says that you’re gaslighting them, it was incredibly brave of them to say so and you should respond by apologizing for hurting them and checking yourself in the future to make sure you don’t do it again. 

I don’t care how much you hate them because they’re on the other side of the discourse. Not being gaslit is basic respect that every single person deserves. Gaslighting is an emotional abuse tactic and is never acceptable. 

Here’s your permission to tokenize me and link people to this post for whatever reason, especially if you aren’t a survivor/victim and would rather link to survivors/victims about the topic. 

“Muggles” Part Three

In honor of one anon, I have kept my word and changed the title of this chapter to, “Muggles” Part Three! :)

Pairing: Reader X Draco

Word Count: 1,762

Prompt: Draco and reader(both Slytherin) go to Hogsmeade but the reader is muggle born and wants to teach him how to do something muggle like.

Warning(s): Mentions of abuse, emotional distress(?), severe feels

A/N: My ask is always open if anyone ever needs to talk. I’m sorry for doing this to you guys, but I will make it up, I swear!

 Part One

Part Two

Your name: submit What is this?

Draco took a deep breath, tears silently streaming down his face, and whispered, “Sometimes he just gets so mad Y/N.”

Your worst fear had just been confirmed. You had your suspicions for many different reasons. For the last few months, Draco had been flinching at most forms of physical contact that weren’t from you. You had noticed some changes in Draco’s behavior, he was quieter, he wasn’t being as rude to the other students as he usually was, and he was focusing much more on his studies than he usually was.

Your hands were still on the sides of Draco’s face, and you once again forced him to look at you. Draco’s face was already tear stained and he looked up at you as if he were an abused puppy. You began running your fingers through Draco’s hair as you knew that this was a gesture that managed to calm him regardless of the situation.

Draco had his eyes closed but tears were still streaming down his face, his body was trembling from the sobs he was trying to hold in. Draco opened his mouth, trying to take a deep breath that would help him stop crying. But when he opened his mouth, the sobs he was trying to hold in left his mouth, causing more tears to run from his eyes.

You quickly removed your hands from Draco’s soft hair and unbuckled your seat belt, throwing the car door open. Draco’s face was contorted with fear, panic, pain, and rejection. He too threw open his car door and got out calling your name, “Y/N!”

Draco felt as if his whole world was falling apart when you got up and left the safety of the car, he thought that you were going to leave him broken and needing you.

You were walking at an unnatural pace to Draco’s side of the car, and once you got closer to him, you threw your arms around his neck and stood on the very tip of your tippy toes, trying to bring Draco closer to you.

His arms snaked securely around your waist as he leaned down into you so you weren’t stretching so much. He buried his face into the crook of your neck that was currently covered by your hair. Your hands were rubbing Draco’s back as you hopelessly tried to offer him some security. Draco’s arms tightened around you at your gesture and he pulled you as close as humanly possible to his body.

You brought your lips to Draco’s ears and whispered, “It’s okay baby. You can cry.” your voice cracked at the end of your sentence.

So Draco cried for what felt like an eternity. You had never once seen Draco cry, and seeing him like this now made you want to murder Lucius Malfoy for breaking the man you loved so much.

Occasionally Draco would plant kisses on your neck and collar bones, and when he did, you would kiss him back in reassurance. You noticed that Draco still didn’t have a shirt on when he started shivering after a particularly cold burst of air made even you flinch in response.

You removed your arms from around Draco’s neck and stepped out of his warm embrace, looking into his swollen and red eyes that were still, somehow, breathtaking.

“Let’s go in the car, you’re freezing.” you said while trying to get your voice to stop shaking from your own tears.

The two of you went back into the car, and Draco grabbed his shirt, putting it back on. His crying had finally died down and you stared into his heart broken face.

You took a deep breath, and grabbed Draco’s hand in your own before saying in a still trembling voice, “Seeing you like this kills me Draco. But I’m not going to push you to tell me if you aren’t ready. I can only imagine what you’re going thro-” your voice cracked and you wiped some stray tears from your face.

Draco reached his hand over and placed it on the side of your face, his own no longer had tears on it. This was wrong; Draco shouldn’t be the one comforting you. He was the one who was being beaten by his father for Satan knows how long.

You looked into his eyes and continued, “I can only imagine what you’re going through, Draco. But if and when you’re willing to talk about it, I’ll be here. If you just need to talk, or cry, please don’t be afraid to tell me.”

Draco didn’t have tears in his eyes, but you knew that man well enough to know that he was fighting them with everything that was left in him.

Draco grabbed your hips and lifted you up, placing you on his lap, well, more like he tried. Draco may have forgotten that the two of you were in a small car, but even if he didn’t, his plan didn’t work out too well.

Your foot got caught on the glove compartment, you accidentally bitch slapped Draco, and it was just a mess. The two of you were laughing in amusement, and very possibly pain.

Once the two of you managed to stop laughing, you placed your hands on the sides of Draco’s face and leaned in towards him, kissing near his eyes, the places where you remembered his tears were not too long ago.

After a few moments, Draco slightly pushed you away by your shoulders and sighed faintly.

He wasn’t looking in your eyes when he began quietly, “It’s my fault; I antagonize him when he’s already mad enough as it is.”

You were furious at the thought that Lucius had brain washed Draco into believing that it was his fault that his father was beating him.

“When did it start?” you whispered, harsher than you meant to.

Draco shrugged a little bit and said, “About a year ago, maybe more.”

You bit your bottom lip and opened your mouth to say something but slowly closed it as your brows furrowed together. Your head began to spin and in a matter of moments, all the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

“About a year ago?” you questioned Draco sharply.

Draco raised an eyebrow in response and nodded his head.

“And he just gets extremely mad?” you asked softly.

Draco again nodded his head, skeptically this time.

“So about the time we started dating?” you whispered.

“I don’t know, I guess somewhere around there.” Draco said reassuringly while holding your hands in his. His tone alone would have reassured you if it hadn’t been for the fact that he wouldn’t look you in the eyes while he spoke.

But realization dawned on you and you were beyond horrified.

Unwanted and unwelcomed tears filled your eyes, and in a shaky voice that was barely above a whisper, you asked, “Draco. Does he do those awful things to you because you’re dating a Half-Blood?”

Draco didn’t answer you at first.

“Draco, please.” You begged him.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Well, of course he doesn’t approve, and I mean it’s not like he likes it-”

“Stop. Just stop avoiding the question.” you interrupted rather rudely.

Draco took a very long time before he finally answered you, “Yes Y/n, he beats me because he thinks that I need to be with someone who’s a pureblood. He says that I’m disgracing the family and betraying everything that the Malfoy’s stand for.” Draco’s voice became frighteningly cold and bitter the longer he spoke.

There were no words to say. You were frozen. The man that you loved was being beaten because of your blood status.

“But I don’t care what he says Y/N, I love you and he’s not going to change that. Besides, it’s not even that bad, I can take it. I want you. I want all of you, my father doesn’t matter to me, you matter to me.” Draco said so quickly that it was literally just a mess of words.

It took you a moment to decipher what Draco had said. “That’s not true. You want his approval and you know it. You’ll never get it with me. I want nothing more than to stay with you but I won’t be that selfish. I won’t stay with you and have your dad hit you just so I can be happy. I’m sorry Draco.”

You turned and got out of the car, Draco immediately following. He ran towards you, and grabbed your hand, forcing you to face him.

“Please, just please don’t do this to me Y/N.” Draco begged.

“Don’t do this Draco. This is something that I have to do.” You replied.

You tried to walk away, but Draco’s grip on you immediately tightened.

“If you ever cared about me at all, you won’t do this to me.” Draco said in a voice laced with a thousand tears.

You removed Draco’s hand from yours and began to walk away, leaving Draco behind you.

You turned around once more, and Draco’s eyes filled with false hope. You closed your eyes, and when you opened them you were determined and ready to do what you knew you needed to, “I’m doing this because I love you, and I won’t stand by and watch you hurt like this.”

“Please.” Draco begged just before you apparated away. Although Draco had only said one word, it was that one word that possessed the power to break your heart beyond repair.

Tears streamed relentlessly down Draco’s face as he realized that the only person, besides his mother, who he had ever truly loved unconditionally, had just left him. There was a look of horror on his face that appeared as though it could be permanently etched into his features.  

Draco stared unblinkingly at the spot where you stood just a minute ago and felt everything inside of him just give up. And with that, his body also gave up.

Draco’s knees buckled underneath his weight and sobs began to overtake his body. There was only one word that Draco kept chanting to himself as if it were a mantra. As if it could possibly change what had just happened.

Draco’s head was resting in his hands and he let out the most heart breaking cries anyone had ever heard. If you didn’t listen closely, it just sounded like someone was sobbing hysterically. But if you really listened, with each wrangled sob, there was one word and one word only that could be made out. Y/N.

Silent Scream Part 6

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, a little bit of Lucifer!Sam x Reader

Characters: Sam, Dean, Lucifer, Castiel, Bobby, Reader

Written: i4z-0892-imagines

Word count: 1,259

Warnings: Abuse, Swearing, Mild gore

A/N:
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Your name: submit What is this?

Keep reading

Derelict - multi-chaptered

Chapter One

 

Derelict (adj): in a very poor condition as a result of disuse or neglect/falling into ruins

 

Based on this prompt: multi-chaptered reality fic where Dan is in an abusive (physically, mentally and sexually) relationship with Phil and can’t get out

WN: (I’ll put specific ones for specific chapters as I’m not entirely sure how this is going to play put just yet) smut, skype sex, slight sexual harassment and non-con, swearing, emotional manipulation

My bottom lip slides between my teeth and I grip it nervously, trying to ignore the incessant thud of my heart against my ribs. Visibly my fingers shake so I clench them and shove them beneath my thighs. Why can’t I stay calm? It isn’t like he was anything to be scared of. From how he acts in his videos, he seems ridiculously adorable.

Okay, he might be a little older than me. And that could mean awkwardness considering I’m eighteen and he’s already in his twenties (only by two years though, so it can’t be that bad.) Plus we’ve never met in person, or at all really; I may have seen his face and heard his voice a bunch of times but all he’s got from me are MySpace messages. And not to mention the fact that either one of us could really be a sexual predator.

Suddenly the screen flashes a deep blue and that sweet melody plays around my room. If my heart wasn’t beating before, I can definitely feel it now. Forcing myself to take a deep breath to fill up my lungs, I click “Video” to answer his call.

Immediately the air around me feels stifling as it fills with the sound of static and background noise through a relatively cheap laptop microphone. His profile picture of him wearing a red-plait shirt remains in the centre of my screen whilst my tiny window buried in the corner fades into an image of me, mirrored and flipped, and at the sight I curl into myself in self-consciousness.

“Hey,” His voice just about makes itself heard over the relentless heartbeat in my ears, “Dan Howell, I presume?”

If this wasn’t the situation, and I was with someone I knew and they knew me, I would probably shoot back with something sarky, like “It says my name under my video, you spoon”. But no, this is not such a person. Under his eyes I feel more exposed than I’ve ever been, like he’s watching my every slight movement, and it’s difficult to be myself. At the thought I force down a silent gulp and simply nod my head.

Silence stretches between us, and I can feel my hands getting clammier with every passing moment. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“I’m about to do all the talking, aren’t I?” At that I blush, feeling ridiculously awkward and curl into myself even more. “Aww, that’s adorable! Look at you!” Fuck - he’s noticed. Unable to help it I feel my cheeks burning a deep red and cover their obviousness with my still trembling hands. “Hey, Dan? Come back…” His pout is practically audible but I shake my head.

Great - thirty seconds in and I’m already a mess.

(That’s what he said.)


“No, seriously it’s alright. I don’t mind it. I know you’re nervous. We’ve never actually done this before,” he reassures, making me feel like I’m calming down just by the softness of his voice. “But, as you can see, I’m no paedophile, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Oh. Hang on.

Clumsily my fingers fall onto the keyboard, stumbling and skidding across the wrong keys at wrong times before eventually collapsing on “Enter”:

Dan Howell: Can’t see you :(

Silence sits between us for a while, then suddenly his video comes on. He’s far too close to the camera but actually he quickly moves away, readjusting his position, and runs his hands through his hair. They drop onto his lap and he lets out a sigh, lips curling into a lopsided grin.

“How about now?” I just stare, head tilting absentmindedly in admiration. “Helloooo? Earth to Dan?” Then without any warning I snap out of it, realising what I was doing, and for god’s sake I was blushing again. “You know, you do that a lot. It’s really cute.” My head shakes lightly in disagreement and I look away.

This really was a stupid idea.


“So I’m guessing my gorgeous face has now graced its way onto your screen?” Bringing my bottom lip between my teeth again I nod, trying to keep my composure. This is Phil Lester I’m talking to - Amazing fucking Phil - there’s no way I can let myself mess things up so soon. “You know, you’re really cute, Howell. I’m not going to get over that.”

Once again, I can’t find the courage to actually use my voice, so I had to resort back to the keyboard.

Dan Howell: Shut up

Phil’s amused laugh fills my ears, slightly distorted by the crappy audio, and he leans closer to the camera to rest his head on his hands, giving me a devious smirk.

“Make me.”

I freeze, and for a couple of seconds I’m sure I don’t breath. It’s clear what he’s implying, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that idea yet. My cheeks start to burn, with awkwardness this time, but this only makes him laugh more.

“Oh, Dan Howell. Such a cute little boy, so young and shy. I’ll make you mine one day, you pretty thing - wouldn’t you like that?” At the question I don’t answer, not willing to go that far with a man I was just meeting. I know if we keep this up that I’ll end up with a pathetic crush on him, but that shouldn’t matter, seemingly as he’s way out of my league. Besides - why would he settle for an awkward, inexperienced kid like myself?

***

“You like me, don’t you?”

My heart jumps into my throat at the accusation, questions like “how does he know?” and “is it that obvious?” flying through my head in a panic.

You see, infatuation is the silly childish thing I’d let myself fall into in the couple of months that I’ve known him. Because fuck, Phil Lester is older and confident almost to the point of arrogance, and he’s social and flirtatious and talkative and basically everything I’ve ever aspired to be. But since I’m a stupidly hormonal teenager, there was no way I could stop myself from imagining him using his confidence in the bedroom, teaching me things and showing me how it’s done, letting me please him and also him pleasing me. Alright, I think about it a lot - because Phil’s a bad boy and I’m a shy boy and my god, he’s such a dream.

“You cute thing, you do like me! You’re so obvious,” I feel the blush heat my cheeks and I turn away, cursing myself once again for choosing Skype over a normal phone call. When I’m with him on video, I blush so much I think one day a blood vessel in my face might actually burst.

Phil leans forward, chin resting on his hands, and he cocks his head with that wide smug grin on his stupid perfect face. “You know, if you really do like me, I’m sure we could come to some kind of arrangement,” with a suggestive wink my attention is back on him, silently begging for him to continue. “Because how on Earth could I resist a cute little face like yours?”

“Phil…” I whine, wanting him to stop making me blush.

“Shut up, it’s adorable. Now - how about you and I talk relationships? Is that what you want?” Bringing my bottom lip between my teeth like I always do when I’m nervous, I timidly nod, not wanting to come across as desperate. Phil’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk and his eyes twinkle with a glint of something, but it’s gone so fast that I completely forget it was even there.

“Good. I think you and I can have a great thing together, you know? I really can’t wait.”

***

I gulp as I read the words on the screen, wondering what the hell they mean.

Phil Lester: Call me ;) I’ve got something for you

In all honesty, I’m nervous. I’ve only known him for three months, or there about, and knowing Phil this probably won’t be romantic.

Hesitantly, with trembling fingers, I press “Call” and wait for him to answer. He does in record time and once I’m met with his stupidly smug face I roll my eyes.

“Phil, it’s ten pm, my parents are asleep,” I whisper, “What d'you want?”

Phil shoots me one of his signature knowing grins, “Well then, I’d plug some earphones in if I was you,” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Besides, I’m blaming this on you. You see, I haven’t stopped thinking about you - all day, in fact,” I feel my cheeks rising in colour, a sensation I’m unfortunately used to, “and you know, you’re just so gorgeous, even the thought of you gets me going…”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion at the statement, until Phil brings the webcam lower and lower until I watch it pass the hem of his joggers. My eyes avert away, widening in surprise, and my hearts thumps even faster than before. I did not just see what I think I did.

“You did this to me, so you’re gonna fix it, Dan,” I shake my head - what the hell am I supposed to do? Watch him?! “Oh yes, you are. I want to see you, kid - hard and bare and desperate to be touched,” my blush deepens as I consider whether or not I could actually go through with this. “And by that you know I mean your dick, right?”

“Phil,” I whimper, “I don’t think I can–”

“Come on, Dan. Just do it. Live a little,” Once again I shake my head in reluctance, causing Phil to let out a sigh in frustration. “You’ll enjoy it, trust me.”

Eyes shut and cringing, I bring my hands to the hem of my boxers and slip my fingers beneath the waistband. I don’t make any noise as I pull the material down to expose myself, cheeks probably a blood red by this point. I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

“Let me see,” Phil pleads. Still looking away I refuse with a gesture he must be getting sick of. “Let. Me. See.” he demands.

Whimpering at his tone I grip the lid of my laptop with a trembling hand and force it down, until I hear Phil curse and suddenly my heart is thudding in my ears.

“Jerk yourself off for me,” I hear him growl.

“N-no, I can’t… Not with you watching…” But he stays silent this time, impatient, silently forcing me and not offering a choice. Taking a deep breath, I curl my trembling fingers around myself as I run them slowly up and down my length, whilst trying to ignore the glottal moan Phil releases at the same time.

“Fuck Dan, you’re just so hot. So hot for me, aren’t you? You little slut, you’re loving this,” I bite back a whimper as I only feel more humiliated, letting myself be used as a tool to help Phil get off. It’s too obvious that he’s doing the same thing, and judging by the volume of his noises he’s really enjoying himself. “I’ve been so hard for so long, just waiting for you. You should feel special, I held off for you.”

“This is weird…” I mumble to myself, trying to see how this sort of thing can be pleasurable for some people.

“Shut up, this is amazing. Just the sight of you… So innocent, yet such a slut for me,” Phil moans out between sentences, making me realise I’ve never heard him so…whatever it’s called. Sexy? “Such a good little slut. Would you do anything for me?” Not wanting to disappoint him (because he could very easily leave me for someone else) I nod my head, suddenly feeling the true effects of my hand. “Just as I thought. You’re gonna do so well.”

I want to ask him what he means by that but Phil cuts me off with an exaggerated moan, and I can’t help but answer with one of my own. “Phil, how close are you?” I ask timidly with no real clue of what to say in this situation.

He lets out a noise which is a mix between a laugh and a groan and it sends blood rushing straight to my dick. Cringing at the fact that I’m really hard and Phil can see that, I hear him moan “Oh, I’m so close. But what I’d really enjoy is my little slut here moving his laptop so I can see all of him and he can see all of me.”

A horrid twisting sensation becomes prominent in my belly and I suddenly don’t want to be doing this anymore. “Phil, I really don’t want–”

“Dan, I do not have all night, now move!” Sighing, I give in and stand up to place my laptop on my desk before sitting back on my bed, the little window showing from above my head to my knees and unfortunately everything in between. I still have a shirt on but just as I realise that Phil demands “Take that off, I want all of you,” so I comply without any protest.

When I can finally bring myself to look at him I see he’s in the exact same position, with his hand working relentlessly on his dick. This is so weird. We haven’t even kissed or held hands yet.

“Fuck, I wish I was there with you, I’d jerk you off myself.” I bite my lip hard, trying to throw all coherent thought out of my head so I can actually enjoy this. I’m just so hard and frustrated that I have to stroke myself that little bit faster, stifling a high-pitched moan at the relief. “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” At the mention of it I feel myself draw suddenly closer and nod frantically, aware that Phil had been hard long before I was, but hell - I’m a teenager, and this isn’t fair. “Fuck, gonna look so hot. Do it. Come for me. Fuck, I’m almost there.”

Knowing it’ll make Phil happy, my legs begin to tremble at the intensity and suddenly I stumble over the edge, whining and whimpering as the incredible warmth rushes through me, face scrunched in pleasure. One final time I hear a curse pass Phil’s lips and I know he’s gone too.

My eyes drift to the screen and my mouth’s wide open as pant with exhaustion. I watch as Phil collapses onto his bed and lets out a breathy laugh, and I want to laugh too but suddenly this cold washes through me and immediately I bring my hands down to cover myself, tugging my covers over my crotch too and sinking into myself in shame. I can’t believe we just did that. We really shouldn’t have done that.

“Oh, fuck, that was incredible!” Phil exclaims, still laughing and to my surprise not attempting to cover himself up. “We have to do that again sometime.”

For the absolute first time in mine and Phil’s relationship, I take a deep breath and, using all my courage, straight out say “I didn’t feel comfortable with that and I don’t want to do it again.”

The call falls into a tense silence and straight away I regret the words I used, wishing I could simply grab them and gulp them back down. I watch, nervous, as Phil sits himself up and looks dead at me, his glare older and intimidating. But then his eyes soften, and he watches me almost lovingly.

“Dan, baby, it you weren’t comfortable you should’ve said something,” he coos, and I feel myself slowly calming at the sound. “I don’t want you feeling sick or awful because of something I wanted you to do. Now, baby, be honest: can you really tell me you didn’t enjoy that?”

A blush creeps onto my cheeks and I shake my head. “I guess I did…”

Phil smiles at me in appreciation. “There - see? Not so bad then, right?” He laughs again and at the sound I let a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. “Loosen up a bit, kid. It’s only me.”

Next Chapter

some meih/em shipper: “as you all know, a good relationship is always founded in a want to change every fundamental aspect of a human being. what? no, that’s not unhealthy or abusive or a drain on the emotional resources of both parties involved. it’s cute I swear,”

some suggestions to make activism more accessible to disabled people

  • do not make a 5 page essay out of what could be a bulleted list. i want to learn about the racially charged history of beard fashion in america but i literally cannot read that no matter how hard i try
    • (i understand that there are many things that cannot be simplified so much, but please at least try to add a tl;dr for those of us who can’t appreciate the power of word as others can)
  • dont type posts with an excess of bolded text, caps lock, or swearing. abuse survivors and other mentally ill people can have an extremely bad reaction to feeling yelled at, and this can transform a long post from being difficult to read to impossible to read without an emotional breakdown
  • do not bring snare drums and strobe lights to protests. seriously? i might have a meltdown, someone else might have a seizure. it is already difficult to go somewhere loud that requires a lot of physical and emotional stamina but disabled people often push ourselves to the limit in the name of justice.. you dont have to make it more difficult x___x we are really trying

i cant think of anything else atm but if you are disabled and have trouble participating in social justice because of it please feel free to reblog and add other ways you wish sj were more accessible