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#I don't want to see these two series as similar
mctna2019 · 15 days
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Every time Tommy Shelby is called a gypsy, I'm reminded of the times when Seon-ho was called a bastard. the similarity of the case is that both of them appear completely indifferent and cold-hearted.
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quipxotic · 8 months
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Ship characters or don't, either is fine, but don't fool yourself by thinking intense, lasting love and loyalty is only possible in romantic or sexual relationships. Friendships can be like that. Family ties (chosen or by blood) can be like that. If you haven't personally experienced either, that sucks, but it doesn't mean it isn't possible.
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clowdersandclaws · 1 year
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you do not understand how much I love Feder the Hawk Killer. You do not
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
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Careful - Chapter Two
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Two: Liar
Why should I deny what's all at once, so crystal clear?
Summary:
Spencer is eager to talk to you - to find out if your son is actually his. But there are more important matters at hand, like the fact that you might be the next target of a serial killer who is actively stalking single mothers.
The two of you get locked in a battle of wills when you stubbornly refuse his protection and Spencer remains determined to keep you safe.
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst and Smut.
Word Count: 8,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of killing/murder, mentions of the reader being a target for a killer; mentions of the reader buying and using a vibrator (does not take place during the fic, more so mentioned as the reality of the ‘sex life’ of a single mom); the reader and Spencer parted on very bad terms (but the details of the situation are not yet revealed); the reader is very angry towards Spencer; the reader and Spencer argue; the reader is in denial that she is the target of a killer; there is some mention of Sebastian having similar hair to Spencer - but I don’t want that to describe or exclude the reader’s race because in the next chapter, there is a mention of Sebastian having the reader’s skin tone; mention of the reader ‘shoving’ Spencer out of anger (not hard enough to cause harm); mention of the reader owning a gun (registered with gun training) as a form of self defense; mention of the reader character celebrating a birthday - but there is no mentions of specific dates or months when the fic is set, so you can easily imagine that this takes place around your birthday (aside from mentions of holidays or seasonal weather); mentions of JJ x Will; JJ talks about her trauma regarding dogs after being attacked in 2x15; this ends in another flashback, this time including flashback sex (smut); Spencer cuts off foreplay to give the reader a birthday present - mentions of heated kissing and some groping; Spencer calls the reader ‘Princess’ (not during sex - in the context of ‘I am here to serve you like royalty’); the smut basically consists of Spencer eating the reader out. And I think that’s it for this chapter. 
A/N: Okay so something I did not intend to happen - a lot of this chapter is from JJ's perspective. It just naturally started happening while I was writing it, and it was really interesting to me to write about Spencer and the reader's relationship through her eyes (especially to keep the conflict between them vague to the audience, because JJ doesn't know the details of what happened), and it's not something I did intentionally, but I really loved how it shaped the chapter, so I kept it in. Also, I really wanted to include a lot of JJ x Spencer friendship and comfort moments in the fic because (as a lot of people in the fandom have discussed) - the writers love to have the characters say that JJ and Spencer are best friends, but they don't often show it. They just show a lot of conflict between them. So I wanted to show the potential of their friendship. And I had a lot of fun exploring that. So - I hope you guys enjoy the second chapter, and definitely hope to see you come back for chapter three!!!
...
When you heard someone knock on your door, you thought it was a delivery. 
You had ordered Sebastian some new educational coloring books, and some new CDs with Mozart concertos to fall asleep to, because he was getting bored of his current ones. You often felt like you couldn’t keep up with him - Sebastian was so damn smart, and you always tried to provide him with the best resources to learn. Even if he was getting to a point where he was asking for high school level chemistry text books and actually seemed to understand the material in them and you were confused about how he could comprehend any of it. 
The package also could have been the new vibrator you had ordered. You weren’t sure if that package was small enough to be left in the mailbox or not. You had to roll your eyes when you thought about how pathetic your sex life had been since having Sebastian. But you couldn’t risk bringing random men through the house just for sex when you had Seb around. So battery power and smut novels, it was.
“Sorry!” 
You called out, hoping the delivery person would wait, as you raced to get to the door. You hoped they wouldn’t just slip one of those ‘failed to deliver’ notes into your door handle and force you to run an extra errand with a kid under your arm. You tripped over a toy truck and cursed yourself for procrastinating cleaning up (again). 
“Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
‘I was in my office, in the back of the house.’ 
The sentence died off on your tongue when you finally fumbled the door open - your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
Spencer Reid. 
The father of your child, the man you had once loved. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
Was he here because of Sebastian? Was he angry? He had to be angry that you hadn’t told him about Sebastian for all of these years. He had to be angry that you had given birth to his child and not told him about it. 
You flickered back to lust for a moment as your eyes traced over him. 
He looked good.
Somehow, he had grown up so much in just four years. He had gone from a gangly, boyish man to a full blown man. But he was somehow still so much the same. His hair had grown out a lot since you had last seen him - instead of the neatly combed, short cut you had last seen him with, it was downright wild. The chocolate brown locks were sprawling out into the thick curls that you had come to see sprouting from your own son’s head. It wasn’t a look that you were used to on Spencer, but it looked damn good on him. 
He was wearing his usual leather messenger bag - probably the exact same one from years ago. And he clearly had the same dress sense, but these clothes in particular made you want to jump his bones. A lavender cardigan that complimented his skin tone so well - and his usual button up shirt and tie, along with his usual gray slacks. 
You desperately wanted to blame the sting of attraction that you felt for him on the recent lack of male suitors in your life; the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. But you knew it was something else, too. Your previous attraction to him - the fact that because you had slept with Spencer before, you could still feel the ghost of his hands and tongue on your body. 
How did he look so good? 
He made you feel like a slob in your casual ‘work from home on a random Tuesday’ Mom clothes. If it had been your choice, he definitely wouldn’t be seeing you for the first time in years while you were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that you were sure had raspberry juice stained on it somewhere, and eyeliner that you had slopped in between traffic lights in the car that morning. 
(You hated it.) 
“Y/N,” 
He finally broke the silence, speaking your name in that honey-sweet way. 
Unfortunately, it brought you rocketing back to that night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This chased out that tiny splash of lust and brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. More longing. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom, your neck aching as the blood pumped hard through your aorta. 
Immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and fear took over his face. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked fiercely, this question rocketing back to the forefront of your mind. 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that suddenly, you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch. Without even thinking, you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You screeched. 
You let your emotions carry your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was resentment and heartache that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You screamed. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove. Perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, even you weren’t sure. 
Spencer just looked at you with wide-eyed shock. Clearly, for once in his life, at a loss for words. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
The two of you became locked in an icy staring contest, neither of you speaking. Spencer found his throat too dry, and for once, his head far too empty. You were simply too angry and too stubborn to speak in those moments. 
This stalemate was only broken up when JJ walked around the corner. 
“Spence, Hotch just told me that the first woman doesn’t even match the-” 
“JJ!” You cried out her name happily, your entire demeanor changing when you saw her. 
She grinned, completely forgetting whatever news she had to report to Reid as you practically flew off the porch and ran to meet her. JJ eagerly opened her arms to hug you, and you squeezed her with all the warmth and kindness of an old friend. 
Spencer felt a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t being greeted with as much affection. He knew that the last argument between the two of you had been bad, but he didn’t know it had left such a distinct impression on you. He didn’t know it had been enough to make you hate him. 
When you pulled away from JJ, you looked between her and Spencer, and then it suddenly struck you. 
If Spencer wasn’t here alone, that meant this wasn’t personal. He wasn’t just here to see you over some lost love, or - maybe he didn’t know about Sebastian at all. You felt a pang of guilt twist your gut because of that. 
“What - what are you guys doing here?” You asked, now entirely confused, directing the question toward JJ. 
JJ looked toward Spencer, and according to his ill-concealed frown, his reunion with you had not gone well. She doubted that you would take the news that you were possibly being hunted by a killer well on top of that. 
“Is it alright if we come inside?” JJ asked, her voice tentative and soft. It was the same voice she usually used with victims and their families. 
“Yeah.” You said, knowing there must be something big that you were missing, and hoping that you would be filled in soon enough. “I’ll put some coffee on.” 
You walked back up the few steps of the porch and breezed right past Reid. You didn’t even spare a glance in his direction as you went back in through the open front door, leaving it open for the two of them with the expectation that they would close it behind themselves. 
“So - I take it things didn’t go well?” JJ whispered to Spencer as she moved up onto the porch. 
“Not quite.” Spencer mumbled in return before moving into the house, waiting for her to follow. 
This made JJ even more curious about what had gone down between you and Spencer all those years ago. 
What could have possibly made you so cold and distant toward him? 
But she couldn’t just come out and ask. They had a job to do. They were there to ensure your safety against a man who had already killed five women and orphaned five children. 
JJ walked into the house and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t surprised that she nearly tripped over a plastic toy truck in the entryway. Even though your son didn’t seem to be here (it was far too quiet for a small boy to be around), this was definitely a house where a child lived. 
The first space that was visible to her eye - the living room, was clearly a space that belonged to a young child. There was a large, colorful play mat underneath the coffee table, and a few toys scattered over across the floor, showing that he clearly liked to have hands on play. In the corner, there was a child-sized desk with a small chair, which seemed to be surrounded by art supplies, and advanced textbooks? Some of them opened and were dotted with bright, colorful stickers. One glance told JJ that the reading material very advanced for his age clearly belonged to him. 
So he very likely was Spencer’s son. 
She wasn’t sure why, but that did bring a cluster of joy through her. Likely because she knew he would be so excited to have a child of his own. 
JJ couldn’t help but to notice that many of the toys were Paw Patrol themed - it was a favorite show of Henry’s, too. In the back of her mind, she wondered if your son and Henry might be friends. 
“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You huffed, rushing around with your arms half full of toys now - distracted from getting the coffee, as you had mentioned. You were clearly rushing to pick up some of the mess now that you had realized how it appeared in the eyes of your ‘guests’. “All the - stuff.” 
You hesitated to say ‘toys’. Clearly, you didn’t want to bring up the subject of your son, even though the evidence of him was so visible all around. You didn’t want to give Spencer the smallest opening to start asking questions about him. It was something you wanted to avoid speaking about for as long as possible. 
Spencer looked at you with a mournful look on his face as you dodged around him, purposefully avoiding eye contact while you picked up a coloring book and a handful of crayons off the couch. You still refused to look his way at all as you rushed off to stash the items away somewhere. 
Clearly, he wanted to ask you more about your son, and simply ask that penultimate question: was he the father? 
But now wasn’t the right time. 
“It’s alright.” JJ assured you. “You can just come sit down. We really need to talk to you.” 
You heaved out a sigh, defeated in your effort to clean up, and then came back from one of the other rooms. (JJ could only assume you had stashed the toys in a playroom or a closet, because much like her own home, all areas had become a domain for toys and playtime). You motioned for them to sit on the couch, and you scooted over a rocking chair from the other side of the room to sit in front of them, blocking the shut-off TV on the other side. 
“So, what is it?” You asked, clearly eager and curious to know what they were doing in your home - why they had contacted you now after so many years apart. 
JJ and Spencer exchanged a look, and with a gentle nod from him, JJ took the lead. 
“Well, um… there’s no easy way to say this, but we believe that you might be in danger.” She told you, introducing the topic gently, while wanting to be honest and direct. “Perhaps you’ve seen it on the news? But if you haven’t… several single mothers have been killed in the area recently, and we have reason to believe that you might be the killer’s next target.” 
You looked at her, entirely observant, quietly taking in her words. Your face was still and expressionless, and JJ was unsure if you were going to take this calmly and logically - if you were going to panic after you had fully absorbed the news, if you were going to cry. 
After a moment of silence - you burst out laughing. Your laughter was harsh and nervous, a sound that cut through the air like the rip of a chainsaw. Clearly, it was the stark opposite of someone taking the news with tears. 
“Oh my god.” You sighed, taking a breath from the non-humorous laughter. “You know that you didn’t have to make up some excuse just to come and see me, right?” 
Spencer’s face curled into a deep frown. He was upset that you weren’t taking this seriously. JJ found herself in shock. Usually when people found out they were potentially on the radar of a killer, they were paranoid, afraid, questioning why. 
But it was very rare to see denial. 
She did take notice of the fact that you didn’t immediately ask about what kind of evidence or reasoning they had to believe that you were the killer’s next target. Perhaps if your brain let you assess that reasoning for yourself and found it to be valid, then fear would take over. And you couldn’t let that happen. So this laughter, this posturing and not taking things seriously - it was an unconscious way to protect yourself from that fear. 
But JJ could only theorize about that. 
“I did miss you, JJ.” You said, very pointedly looking at her while you said it. “But you could have just sent me an email or something.” 
You continued avoiding Spencer’s harsh gaze as he bored holes into the side of your face with his intense, intrusive eyes. 
“Look, this is serious-” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
“Okay.” You shrugged. “Let’s say for argument’s sake that there is someone trying to kill me,” 
You spoke of this lightly, the words entirely condescending on your lips, as though Spencer’s theory was entirely wild and imaginative to begin with. 
JJ saw the movement in his jaw as he grinded his teeth out of the corner of her eye, and she was surprised that he let you continue. 
“I have an alarm system that I set every night before I go to bed.” You informed them. “I am a proud gun owner. I have a registered revolver that I keep in a lock box beside my bed and I renew my gun training every single spring.” You told them, not seeming the least bit worried at the idea of a killer hunting you down. “If someone wants to kill me, let them try. I’m sure you guys have much better ways to spend your time than sitting around here, chatting with me when there are people out there, actually in danger. People who probably need your help.” 
You said this, trying to dismiss them. And then you moved to get up from your seat, looking to escape the conversation entirely. But once again, Spencer stopped you. 
“That’s it?” He fired back, entirely indignant, standing from his place on the couch. 
This caused you to roll your eyes and let out a hiss, your lungs deflating like an annoyed balloon as you paused in the middle of the room. 
“Yes, that’s it.” You groaned back. “Look, I know it’s your job to see problems everywhere, but-” 
“It’s my job to protect people.” Spencer replied, cutting you off. “And-” 
“Funny!” You scoffed, your voice escalating in volume. It had turned into a full-blown argument now - you were entirely uncaring that JJ was there to witness it; Spencer was locked in your sight like the crosshairs of a scope, and you were ready to fire. “You give a shit about ‘protecting’ me now, but what the fuck happened four years ago?”
You glared harshly at Spencer, and he locked his jaw, staring right back. It turned into a poisonous silence as neither of you spoke - he didn’t have a good answer for this question. And it made JJ all the more horribly curious about what had happened between the two of you. But she didn’t need to be a psychic to sense that the two of you needed some privacy. 
“Do… do you mind if I go get myself a glass of water?” She asked, tentatively standing up from her place on the couch. 
“I’ll get it.” You huffed out, moving to leave the room. 
“It’s okay.” JJ told you. “I can get it for myself. Just point me in the right direction.” 
You motioned toward the kitchen and JJ left, and she heard Spencer hiss out something about you being stubborn, which turned into another cluster of voices. The argument turned even more personal and sour now that the both of you didn’t have a witness. 
When JJ made her way into the kitchen, she was happy to see that your backyard was full of toys. A pair of sliding glass doors let her peek out to see a colorful swing set and a large playhouse, and a scattering of other toys meant that your son obviously spent a lot of time outside. She smiled to herself, trying to ignore the rising, angered sound of voices from the other room as she found a glass in one of the cabinets. When she moved to the refrigerator’s water dispenser, something along the way caught her eye. 
A vase of fresh flowers was sitting on the counter. 
White carnations. 
It made her stomach churn ominously. It felt too perfect to be a coincidence. 
She abandoned her half-full glass and grabbed the vase, walking back to the living room with it. 
“You just can’t accept help from anybody, can you? How can you not understand that your life is in danger here? This man is not going to stop until-” Spencer ranted on. 
He was still trying to convince you to take the threat seriously - but you were still boiling with rage over the past, blind to anything else. 
“I can’t accept anyone’s help?” You scoffed, crowding into his personal space to hiss the words closer to him. “That is so rich coming from someone who-” 
JJ cleared her throat loudly, cutting you off. 
“Spence.” She got his attention from the intense gaze he was keeping on you - anger hot in his eyes even though he was staring heavily at your lips. 
When Spencer looked over and saw the vase in JJ’s hands, his entire face shifted in a blink. His expression went from tight-knit anger and annoyance to ‘shit-your-pants’ worry. The danger went from being theoretical to being very real in that moment. 
“Where did these flowers come from?” Spencer asked. 
“What?” You gaped, so entirely confused. 
“Where did you get the flowers?” He asked, rephrasing the question, his tone more urgent and demanding now. 
“Why does that matter?” You replied, exasperated. You didn’t see how it was at all relevant. 
“All of the women who were killed received these exact same kind of flowers within days of their death.” JJ told you. “Do you have any idea who sent them?” 
“I thought my mother did.” You shrugged. “There was no name on the card. It just said ‘Happy Birthday’. She didn’t get to see me in person for my birthday, she’s traveling right now. She’s one of the only people who would send me flowers for my birthday.” 
“Yes, but your mother knows that your favorite flowers are lavender and baby’s breath. Why would she send these?” Spencer replied. 
Naturally, he remembered your favorite flowers. 
You couldn’t get stuck on that, though. Instead, you pondered the question he posed. 
Why would your mother send you white carnations without even signing the card? 
It wasn’t something you had thought about. At the time, you had just thought it was considerate, and sweet. When you had called her to thank her for the flowers, you had gotten her voicemail. You had left her a message thanking her. She was away on a singles cruise with shoddy reception and she hadn’t gotten back to you yet. 
“They’re just flowers.” You said, letting out another nervous chuckle - but your voice broke over this one. 
Obviously the reality of things was truly starting to set in with you. 
“We need to set up protective custody for you.” Spencer said, taking out his phone in order to get this done. 
“No!” You snapped. “I am not having some random cops follow me around because you think I might be in danger.” You hissed angrily. 
Spencer paused and stared you down, debating if he was going to go against your wishes or not, his phone still in hand. 
JJ hated the look in Spencer’s eyes. That deep, bitter fear. Whatever had happened between the two of you, there was still enough care lingering there that he would fight for you no matter what. He was terrified for you. He wasn’t going to let you meet the same fate as the other victims. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go. 
JJ put the vase down on the coffee table, and turned to you. 
“It doesn’t have to be random cops. We can stay with you, in order to-” She started to explain, only to be disrupted by the digital ringtone of your home phone echoing through the house. 
You rushed to grab the phone, and JJ heard some of the quiet conversation from you on one end. 
“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there soon. It’s no problem. Thank you so much. Yeah, twenty minutes. Bye.” 
You hung up and then rushed back into the living room - and before either of them could speak further on the matter, you rushed past them. You went to the entryway, taking off your slippers to exchange them for sneakers. 
“Look, guys, I would love to stay and hang out, but I have somewhere important to be.” You huffed out. 
“Seriously?” Spencer replied, entirely frustrated with you. “This isn’t some tea party. We aren’t just hanging around here for fun. Call whoever that was and tell them that you’re gonna be late. Or call and cancel, or-” 
“No!” You yelled back, entirely frustrated with him. “Dammit, Spencer! People have responsibilities, you know! I have responsibilities. I am an adult, I’m not some child you can talk down to. Now get the fuck out of my house so I can lock up, and get to the important things that I have to do. Things that don’t involve wasting my time talking to you.” 
You said the last part so snidely, resenting that Spencer’s unexpected visit had been part of your day. 
He opened his mouth to argue against this, but JJ put a gentle hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward the door. He sighed and flexed to this movement. He angrily stormed past you to leave through the front door, which he left wide open like a toddler having a tantrum. 
You grabbed your keys and your purse from a side table near the door and JJ moved to leave as well. On her way along, she put a gentle hand on your shoulder, capturing your attention. 
“We’ll check back in with you later, okay?” She said, using her most gentle, non-confrontational voice. 
“Sure.” You easily agreed, unable to be angry with her. “But just call, or something. There’s no need to bang down my door over some stupid flowers. It’s nothing.” 
She stepped through the door and you followed. As you used your keys to lock up, you added on: 
“I would give you my number, but I’m sure Penelope can find it for you in five minutes flat.” 
JJ chuckled at this. 
“More like two and a half, I’d say.” She replied - it was a joking tone, but she did truly think this highly of Penelope’s skills. 
You smiled over your shoulder at her and she nodded before she began to walk back to the car, where Spencer was already sitting in the passenger’s seat, stewing in his anger. 
When she got in beside him, they watched you pull out of the driveway and drive off before either of them spoke. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply, tired. 
In order to distract himself from all of it, he was staring down at some files in his lap - some of the case files of the other murders that he had pulled out of his bag. He needed something to do to keep his mind from churning more on the fact that you seemed to hate him. He wanted to find a way to protect you now, instead of focusing on the past. 
But JJ seemed hellbent on walking backward - getting him to look back on what happened between the two of you. 
“I can do complicated.” She said. “We’ve got plenty of time. We should just sit here and wait for her to come back.” 
“You should go check in with Hotch.” Spencer told her, dodging around the question once again. “I’ll come back after.” 
“After what?” JJ questioned, finding this wording particularly strange. 
JJ started the car and pulled away, hoping that you would be safe during the time they didn’t have eyes on you. The UnSub had a particular routine - he liked to stalk his victims for a few weeks before he broke into their homes and killed them. So she hoped that he wasn’t ready to make contact with you yet. She hoped that if he did, your gun and your alarm system would be enough to deter him. 
“I - I wanted to get her something nice.” He answered, sounding rather shy about this proclamation. “Like she mentioned, her birthday just passed. And, according to the preschool forms, her son’s birthday was a week ago. I want to get something for him too.” 
“They have the same birthday?” JJ asked. 
“Not exactly the same, but their birthdays are only five days apart.” Spencer replied. “I missed his birth.” He added on, a quiet sigh, entirely melancholic. “I missed the whole pregnancy. I - I missed everything.” 
“You still didn’t answer my question.” JJ reminded him. “What happened?” 
Spencer knew she was asking as a friend. He knew that of all people - she was the one to talk to about this. 
“It - it was right after Hankel.” He admitted quietly. “That was when Y/N and I broke up.” 
“Oh.” JJ said quietly. 
The air in the car became thick as the heaviness truly overtook her. 
So, it was complicated. 
But she definitely couldn’t understand your rage toward Spencer. 
“When I came back from Atlanta, she knew I wasn’t the same. And things - we - we fell apart.” He admitted this barely above a whisper, hesitant to even voice the words as a reality. “You knew what kind of person I was back then. I wasn’t good to her. I wasn’t good to anybody.” 
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle - a defense to all the hurt he was feeling about it. 
JJ spotted a sign for a shopping center, and pulled into the parking lot. She knew that Spencer likely had a good idea about buying into your good graces with a late birthday gift. Even if it wouldn’t instantly make up for everything that had happened all those years ago. 
“Yeah, but you’re sober now.” She reminded him. 
“She doesn’t know that.” Spencer replied. 
JJ ruminated in thought for a moment. 
“You know, I met Will afterwards, right?” She said. 
Out of the corner of her eye, Spencer nodded. 
“It was only a few weeks after everything happened, when we were working that case in New Orleans.” She explained. “And he looked at me like I was a hero. Because I helped him finish what his father couldn’t. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile or broken. He didn’t tip-toe around me. He didn’t see me as some ghost. And that is part of the reason why I fell for him. He always saw me as this goddess. Like Superwoman.” 
Spencer smiled at this. 
He wanted to be that person for you. He wanted to be your Superman. (But he feared that he couldn’t live up to that. That he would fail you when the time came.) 
JJ found a parking spot, and parked, but Spencer lingered - sensing there was more to the conversation. 
“You know… Henry wants a puppy.” JJ’s voice shook, her throat clenching up around these words. 
Spencer’s stomach shook. 
He hadn’t been there, but he had seen the scars on JJ’s arms. He had seen the footage of the other poor woman being torn apart by those dogs. 
“And I had to tell Will everything. How I was chased down, how I had to shoot two innocent animals - the stupid fact that I still feel guilty about it, even though they would have killed me if I hadn’t done it.” She said, her throat becoming more closed off with each word. She cleared it before she spoke again. “How I lost you, how it was all my fault.” 
“What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” Spencer felt the need to say this aloud, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on her knee. She nodded at him before she continued. 
“Just - it was all so overwhelming. The idea of having a dog in our house. But… I told him that I wanted to try, at least. For Henry.” JJ explained. “But when we went to the animal shelter - the sound of dogs barking… I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. And next thing I know, I’m sitting on the curb outside with my head between my knees and Will is putting a bottle of water to my lips.” 
“Henry seems more like a cat person anyway.” Spencer replied, hoping this slightly humorous comment would offer some comfort to his friend. 
JJ let out a tired laugh. 
“He’s three and a half, I think we’re still in the stage where a goldfish is more than enough for him.” She added on. 
“I - I never told Y/N.” Spencer said, suddenly shifting the conversation. JJ raised her brow, prompting further explanation of this. “I never told her what happened to me. What happened with Hankel.” 
JJ gave him a sad look. 
“Why not?” 
“I - I didn’t want her to view me as weak. I couldn’t fight him off. I accepted the drugs. At certain points, I…. I even pitied him.” Spencer replied. “I didn’t want things to change between us. Even though they did anyway.” 
“Do you still wanna be with her?” JJ asked. 
“What?” Spencer gaped, not expecting the question. 
“If the kid is yours, obviously you wanna be in his life. But co-parenting as separate, single people is one thing.” JJ explained herself. “Do you still want to be with Y/N? Do you still love her?” 
“Yes.” Spencer replied shyly. 
“Then you have to tell her everything.” JJ said firmly. “Being with someone for the long term isn’t about creating some fantasy. I fell in love with Will because he looked at me like I was Superwoman, but I stayed in love because he takes care of me when I’m powerless. You have to be weak in front of her and let her take care of you, so that you can be strong everywhere else.” 
Spencer sighed - letting this wisdom fully penetrate him. 
He knew that being a genius sometimes meant that he wasn’t the smartest person in the room. Apparently, this was one of those times. 
“You’re right.” 
Then, he reached for the car door’s handle, feeling like JJ had taught him a lot with that conversation and he needed some time to think alone. 
“You want me to come with you?” JJ asked. “You might need a woman’s opinion on what to get,” 
“No thanks, I know Y/N pretty well.” He replied. “At least I hope I still do.” He opened the door fully and stepped out. “And I wanted some alone time, to… think all of this over. To think about what I’m gonna say to Y/N. I’m gonna walk back afterwards, the house is only a few blocks away.” 
JJ nodded. 
“I should check back in with Hotch.” She noted. “See if they found anything with the other women on the list. Otherwise, all we’ve got is the flowers.” 
Just as he moved to close the door again, JJ spoke up one last time. 
“Rubble.” She said suddenly - which sounded very strange with no context. 
“What?” Spencer asked, ducking his head down to see inside the car to potentially hear her words better. 
“Rubble - it’s a character from the kids’ TV show, Paw Patrol.” She explained. “There was about five action figures of him sitting on the living room floor back there. So I would assume that he’s your son’s favorite character.” 
Spencer’s chest jumped at the way she said ‘your son’ - so casually. 
He could really have a child in his life. This could really be his future. 
If he played his cards right, this could be his future with you. 
“Thank you, JJ.” Spencer grinned at her. 
She smiled back and he stood up to his full height and closed the car door, walking off into the shopping center by himself. 
And of course, his thoughts drifted back to you. 
He thought back to the last time he had spent your birthday with you. Before Hankel, before all the madness. Before everything good in his life slipped through his fingers and he was left feeling so alone. 
… 
For someone with basically no serious relationships under his belt before you came along, Spencer was excellent when it came to romance. 
Perhaps it was because he spent his time reading the classics - he could recite Elizabethan poetry off by heart, he could whisper epic romantic ballads in your ear before kissing you with such intense passion that it left your head spinning. He had such a perfect picture of what romance should be, and it meant that he knew how to plan a date that left you feeling like a queen. 
Every single time he took you out, he made you feel like you were the only woman on earth - like he would move the seas and the sky just to show you how much he cared. 
And because he insisted that your birthday should be a day all about you - a day dedicated to celebrating you - then this was certainly no different. 
The night had been a whirlwind of perfection. 
After dinner at a gorgeous fine dining restaurant downtown, Spencer then drove the two of you to an art gallery to stroll around. He cited that he wanted you to have some down time for your food to settle before he gave you your present. From the spark in his eye, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what that present would be. The whole evening was so utterly beautiful and peaceful. And like everything with Spencer - it was a pleasant enrichment of the mind, looking at art while he told you things about the artists or the origins of the paintings. 
Before you got halfway through the gallery, he checked his watch and told you that it was ‘just about time’ for your present, and then he drove you back to his apartment. 
The two of you barely made it through the door before you had him pinned against it, your mouth enveloping his in a hot, desperate kiss. You were so utterly grateful to have such a romantic, thoughtful man in your life. 
The entire evening had been nothing but a reminder of that - the way he looked at you with love so pure in his eyes. Him opening doors for you, keeping his hand on your lower back to usher you gently around, speaking lowly to you as though his words were precious and only meant to be yours. 
You needed him. You needed to show him how much you appreciated all of it. You needed him to know how much of a treasure he was in your life. 
You reached for his belt and Spencer let out a choked off moan into your mouth. 
You were surprised when he reached for your wrist, gently pulling your touch back - stopping you from unfastening the belt as he pulled his now slightly swollen lips away from your kiss. 
“As - as much as I want to,” He huffed out against your mouth. “I - I still have to give you your present.” He noted, flashing you a smile. 
“I thought this was my present.” You replied, reaching down to grope Spencer’s half hard cock through his pants. 
He let out a groan; but then he reached for your wrist again, pulling your touch back. 
“I - I promise - later - afterwards? Later tonight.” He stuttered out, hard pressed to focus as more blood rushed to his cock. 
Spencer puzzled you. You had never known any other man to interrupt foreplay for something other than sex, unless it was life or death. But it made you very curious about what your present was and why he was so desperate to give it to you. 
And sex was still on the table, so that panging need between your legs would be taken care of eventually. 
You hummed in ascent and stepped back, releasing Spencer from where you had him pressed against the door. He gulped in a large breath of air before he moved across the room. 
You were surprised when he didn’t move to turn on any lights in the apartment, leaving the two of you settled in comfortable darkness. The only lights being the light from the bathroom that he had left on before leaving, shining down the hall, and the dim lighting coming in the windows - some street lights and the occasional passing car’s headlights. 
Spencer shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over the back of the couch on his way toward the window. He yanked up the blinds in front of the space where he had set up a very expensive, advanced, gorgeous telescope - one that had been there the last few times you had visited. Astronomy was one of his many hobbies, and he often invited you to view different stars or passing comets. It was just one of the many things you learned from him - knowledge you absorbed from being around him that made you feel infinitely smarter. 
You always indulged in the joy of feeling smarter just from being in his presence. You loved that Spencer was someone so gifted who loved to share his knowledge, rather than gatekeeping it or being snide toward others who weren’t as privileged as him. It was just another thing to love about him - the fact that he was so kind in sharing his big brain with others. 
You watched him with intrigue while you took your wrap off your shoulders and tossed your purse onto the couch. Enjoying the quiet and the peaceful darkness and watching him work, you moved to sit on the arm of the couch to begin unstrapping your heels. 
He checked his watch again, and then looked to a small side table he had near the telescope. He flipped open a notebook that he had there, and you supposed that the minimal light coming in through the window was enough for him to see whatever it was that he had written there. He adjusted the telescope slightly, then looked at the notebook again, then adjusted the telescope again. 
Then he said ‘aha, there you are’ under his breath, grinning widely to himself. 
The entire thing made your insides glow with curiosity. 
Spencer then turned back to you, still grinning widely. When he noticed your shoe half-hanging off your foot, he stepped over to you and softly grabbed your ankle, sliding your shoe off the entire way before gently rubbing the sole of your foot. 
“Let me help you with that, Princess.” He said quietly, before moving to take the shoe off your other foot. 
Again, your insides tingled as he made you feel like you were the most important woman on earth. 
“Thank you.” You replied, almost speechless at the action. 
“If you’ll step right this way, I can show you your present.” He said, motioning toward the telescope with a dramatic flare. 
You let out a giggle as you stepped over your abandoned shoes and moved to look into the telescope. 
You wondered if he had written some poem and taped it onto the other end of the lens or something like that (it was Spencer, it must have been something epically romantic). But as you bent down and closed one eye to get a good look, it was entirely ordinary. 
The telescope was focused on a single, tiny star. 
It was beautiful, but it was very… plain. And more than anything, it was confusing. 
Your present was… a star? 
“Spencer, I don’t really get it?” You sighed, standing up to your full height once again. 
“I got you a star.” He said proudly, grinning even wider now. 
When you stared at him with more intense confusion, Spencer reached over to the notebook and pulled something out. After he handed it to you, you leaned into the light of the window and studied it carefully. 
It was a certificate stating that Spencer had paid to name the star after you. 
He had literally changed the night sky for you. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly. 
You felt so overwhelmed. 
If he had made you feel like the most important woman in the world before, then now - you felt like the most important woman in the galaxy. 
“Spencer, this is - this is too much.” You said, your throat clenching up slightly due to the intensity of the emotions. 
“No, it’s not.” He said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on your jaw, tilting your face up from looking at the certificate to look at him. 
There it was again, all of it spelled out in his eyes - the adoration, the pure, overwhelming affection that he felt for you. It bloomed nothing but those same feelings in return from you. It was almost so overwhelming that you felt like you could have exploded from how much love you felt for this man, all of it swelling inside of you so quickly that you felt like your body couldn’t contain it. Like it was a sickness that was going to overrun your body if you weren’t careful. 
“Spencer.” 
His name swelled in your throat like that throbbing love, and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss. Because of course, words weren’t enough. You smothered him with your mouth, trying desperately to communicate every ounce of passion and gratefulness you were feeling with the heat of that kiss. 
Spencer held you, engulfing both your cheeks with his large, warm hands, kissing you back with just as much intensity. 
Both of you lingered there for a few moments, savoring each other’s lips, mingling in each other’s breath. 
You were disappointed when Spencer pulled away. 
“There is something else.” He told you, a bit of glee edging on his voice. 
“What?” You gaped, shocked by this. 
“There’s something else I have to give you. Another part of your present.” He clarified, pulling back completely - likely in order to fetch this thing. 
You let out a breath. You weren’t sure how this magnificent man could possibly do more. 
You placed the certificate for the star down on the table where Spencer had kept it. Later, you would take it home and have it framed, wanting to display it proudly. You could imagine yourself putting it up in the front of your home when you eventually moved in with Spencer. You could put it next to your marriage certificate; eventually, put next to wedding photos when the two of you eventually got married. (And sometime later, it would be hanging alongside photos of you and Spencer with your kids. You tingled, realizing that this was the first time you had ever thought of having kids with him, but it fit so well. It seemed right.) 
The thought made you tingle. 
You could truly imagine yourself having a life with Spencer. Standing proudly because this was just the beginning of it. He truly felt like ‘the one’ you had always been waiting for. 
“Here.” 
Spencer’s voice pulled you from your plethora of dreamy thoughts, and you turned to see him holding a velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat at the passing thought that it might be the box - but no. Now wasn’t the time. The two of you had only been dating for a year and a half. And while you were so deeply in love, you knew that it was a bit haste to assume that he was ready for marriage when you were his first serious girlfriend. You were still both so young. 
He opened the lid and you let out a small gasp when you saw it. 
It was a simple, elegant silver necklace. The pendant was a four pointed star, with a small, dainty stone in the middle. You easily recognized it as your birthstone, meant to represent the fact that he had given it to you on your birthday. And obviously the star pendant as a whole represented that he had also gifted you a literal star in the sky on that same day. 
“Spencer, it’s so beautiful.” You said, utterly breathless. 
“Traditionally, the four pointed star is believed to represent the designation of a goal. It marks one’s great endeavors, because it seems to point to the four cardinal directions. This star is meant to guide someone, like a map - the way that sailors used the stars to guide their path.” 
Spencer explained, knowledgeable as he always was. 
“I - I chose this for you because… well, because when I met you, I felt as though I had accomplished great things in all areas of my life, except for one. Academically, I was satisfied. In my career, I was happy. But when it came to matters of the heart… I was utterly clueless. And when I found you… it felt like you were my guiding star. Like you were the person I had been waiting for to finally show me - show me the meaning of love.” 
“Oh, Spencer.” Your voice cracked around these words, barely able to form them. “Oh, honey. I love you so much. Thank you.” 
It was all your mind could gather at the moment. It wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, but it was certainly one of the most intense. 
“I love you too.” He replied. Through the dimness, you could almost see tears forming in his eyes. “You truly make me so happy.” 
Spencer then cleared his throat harshly, wanting to clear away his intensely emotional tears. 
“Can - can I put it on you?” He asked shyly, motioning with the necklace in its box. 
“Of course.” You grinned. “I’d love that.” 
You turned around and Spencer took it out of the box, fiddling with the dainty clasp for a moment before he put it around your neck and then did it up for you. It felt so right around your neck. It felt like his love was being carried with you. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to take it off anytime soon. You could easily imagine yourself feeling so proud to answer whenever random strangers or your co-workers asked where it was from. 
When it was secured around your neck, Spencer leaned in and laid a gentle, open-mouthed kiss against the chain. This simple act reminded you of that needy throb between your thighs; of what you had been wanting so badly the moment you had come in the door. 
“So…” He whispered against your neck. “What else does the birthday girl want?” 
“I can think of a few things.” 
That was how you ended up with your back pressed against the softness of the couch - too impatient to even make it to the bed - with your dress pushed up around your waist, your panties tossed somewhere in the middle of the living room rug. Spencer’s glasses were pressed up onto his forehead while his knees dug into that same rug, his fingers splayed across your thighs, holding you open to makeway for his tongue. 
He ate you out with all of the intensity and passion that he had kissed you with - moaning into your pussy as though he was singing directly to the gods. 
“Fuck, Spence.” You moaned, raking your hands through his hair, holding him close - not that he would want to pull away for even a second. 
He loved your taste more than anything in the world, and he savored every second that he got the privilege of being on his knees for you. He moaned into your pussy, loudly, almost pathetically - hot echoes coming from his lungs as though he was the one being pleasured. He laved his tongue across you with an open jaw, drinking in as much of you as possible while your thighs quaked around his head. Your nails dug into his scalp and he only moaned harder, loving the sound of your needy whines and your gasping breaths as your clit throbbed under his tongue. 
Spencer hummed in delight while he bounced your clit on his tongue, loving the feeling of that sweet little bead throbbing against him; loving your taste, loving your echoing moans. Loving how much he could bring you pleasure. 
“Fuck, Spence, so close!” 
He put his lips around you and sucked then, holding you gently against him by the hips. He couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of your body quaking against his face while your orgasm overtook you. It was overwhelming and beautiful and warmed your whole body - just like the love you felt for him. 
He pulled away after a moment, when he was sure that he had seen you through to the satisfying end, and he grinned against the mound of your pussy. 
“Happy birthday, pretty girl.” 
… 
After the break-up, Spencer often looked up to the sky and thought about you. 
On the nights when your star was in place overhead, he felt a particular pang in his chest. He wondered where you were and what you were doing. He wondered if you were safe. He spent many nights staring out his telescope, wondering if you were happy, blanketed under that inky sky. 
You thought about the star sometimes, too. 
You thought it was a lot like your relationship with Spencer. Placing all of your hopes and dreams onto something already dead - something where the light had died out long ago.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Three - Turn It Off
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charlotte-zophie · 5 months
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Therapy conversation
Dear Fandom, dear Mr. Gaiman,
I hope this isn´t weird but i have something to confess.
Since I watched the second season of Good Omens, I've gone through so many phases that I barely recognize myself anymore.
My first reaction after episode 6 was shock, then I was disturbed because I didn't know that it was possible for a series to have such a strong influence on my psyche, I questioned myself and doubted my sanity. Then I was overcome by an incredible sadness and was really heartbroken. I felt like a pubescent teenager, in my mid-30s. I couldn't sleep properly for several days, had nightmares and my thoughts were with these two ineffable loving idiots the whole time.
And the worst thing about it was that for the first few days I was really ashamed to admit to myself and my husband that I was completely and hopelessly immersed in this world. I did nothing but watch videos, listen to sad songs, and read heartbreaking fanfictions for days. And of course I read the book again and watched the series over and over again. All in the hope that it will ease my heartache a little.
But as is often the case in these situations, after a few days in which no real change occurs, you have the thought that you will be lost in this feeling forever. But since I have 3 children that I need to look after, of course locking myself away for weeks with heartbreak wasn't an option, so I had to find an outlet for myself to channel my pain.
So I started painting a picture. By Aziraphale and Crowley. And stroke by stroke I let my feelings flow out of me and into the picture.
It took over a week until I had a motif in which I could see my thoughts and feelings expressed and then it took another week until I finished the picture. On an old canvas with paints that haven't been used for a long time, with many, many layers of old paint underneath.
But when the picture was finally finished, it really took a load off my mind. It was like I had broken a dam and was finally able to let it all out and convert it into creative energy.
But I think the most important thing was that I uploaded the picture to Tumblr and received such a response that I was incredibly touched and immediately motivated to paint more pictures.
Since that day, hardly a moment goes by when I am not holding a pen in my hand or not thinking about a new picture. I'm in one of the most creative phases in a very long time and I'm really enjoying it.
I am so grateful for the wonderful people here! Here I see that I'm not alone with my strange feelings that I still don't really know how to classify. Here I read thoughts that are so similar to mine, here I see works of art that melt my heart, here I feel understood!
And I am so grateful for the pain that showed me the way back to my creative energy!
Thank you Fandom!
Thank you Neil Gaiman!
I would have been lost without you!
Because I don't know my way around here very well, I didn't think about pinning the picture in question as a link when I created this post, but since many people have asked about it, I've pinned it here. Thank you all, love love love
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xjulixred45x · 4 months
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OKAY MY LAST INVINCIBLE POST BEFORE DEDICATING TO REQUESTS FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH DON'T KILL ME! THIS TIME IT'S FLUFF!
Mark Grayson/Invincible x Starfire!Reader
Imagine being an alien similar to DC's Starfire, you can follow the original line of the character (I follow more than anything the one from the comics or the 2003 series) where your planet was conquered by another race (thanks to your sister) Or you can go the more "family friendly" line, which is that you decided to explore the world outside your home planet but ended up in the hands of some kind of intergalactic trafficking network.
I imagine that if it is the first case, it is most likely that your race has been conquered by the Viltrumite themselves, which caused a MASSACRE to occur from which you and your sister were miraculously able to escape.
Regardless of what you choose, you ended up on Earth, although having gone through great traumatic events, so when you see this new world, with a strange species, you begin to attack by mere instinct (like what Starfire did in the first chapter of Teen Titans)
That's when Mark or rather INVINCIBLE appears.
He tries to fight you at first, get you away from the civilians, that is until he realizes how scared you are (especially if we're talking about the case of the Viltrumite invasion and you realize that Mark IS a Viltrumite). So he tries to change his strategy and try to calm you down as much as he can.
When he succeeds, he ends up taking you to the Globe's guardians to see what to do. I imagine that you are a little different than the original Starfire, you are more scared and defensive in this situation, at first you only trusted Mark.
For this reason, Cecil decides that you will stay in the Pentagon until they know what to do with you. Mark helps you learn the "normal" things of the Earth and show Cecil that you are not a threat.
(if you had to learn the human language by "lip contact" the whole team definitely makes fun of Mark a little for being in love now).
Imagine Mark and Eve bringing you clothes to try on!🥺Eve probably just created it out of nowhere, but she also brings clothes that her parents give her that she doesn't want and for some reason you like.
Mark offers to help you train! At first he tries to go easy on you, but when you almost knock him out with your laser beams, he learns his lesson.
He definitely takes you out to eat junk food! More when he realizes that the Pentagon's food doesn't help you much because of your big appetite. Mark was surprised at how much food you could eat but luckily Cecil pays for it (just don't tell him yet🤫)
Definitely one of Mark's favorite things about you, when you're over the trauma, is your innocent attitude, even after all, you're very bubbly and friendly. which is at least difficult to find in your line of work, so he wants to keep that part of yourself as much as possible.
Mark definitely took you to meet his mother, at first he was a little nervous that she wouldn't accept you after what happened with his father, but surprisingly Debbie took it very well.
Thanks to this you were able to learn more about the culture of the Earth, you constantly asked Debbie about the places she had seen, what they were like and their culture (even some anecdotes about Mark when he was a child), and with your bubbly and youthful attitude she did not It was difficult for Debbie to warm to you easily.
Apart from that it helped you fall in love with the Earth quite quickly, see its beauty for yourself, which encouraged you to be your own version of a hero.
When you want to become a heroine, Mark enters into an internal conflict. On the one hand, he KNOWS very well that you don't want someone to make decisions for you, he respects that, but on the other hand, he is TERRIFIED by the possibility that you will get hurt, captured, or lose COMPLETLY your being or worse, DIE.
It is probably thanks to this conversation that you two become a couple.
In general, at first Mark tries to do your first patrols with you to teach you the basics, then he lets you do whatever you want, and he is SO PROUD when you beat someone.
"THAT IS MY GIRL!" kind of proud.
He definitely really likes flying with you and just wandering, at least he feels like there you two have more privacy. Apart from that he likes how you look in your element. according to him.
If you talk about the first case of origin that I mentioned at the beginning and your sister comes back, Mark sees through ALL the red flags and will be the first to warn you about her, since he went through something similar with his family, you don't want to go through that.
If both fight together, POWER COUPLE. LITERAL. You have certain skills that Mark doesn't, so they complement each other very well.
If Mark gets hurt, you go into RAMPAGE MODE and honestly? Mark doesn't know if he should be scared or more in love. or excited.
If YOU get hurt GOD HELP US, MARK IS ANGRY---someone is going to have a bad time. And You a Lot of cuddles.
Overall, both of them are like two Golden Retrievers being happy together.
@clemberryfriends
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Shares, reglogs, and comments are very welcome
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lovelybrooke · 29 days
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Staff Reacting to Reader wanting to Leave.
I've gotten a lot of asks to finish this series so I decided that now is the best time. Sorry if these are ooc.
Also shout out to @dilatorywriting her characterization of the staff is the best. Go check out her work.
first years--second years--third years.
---
Divus Crewel 
Divus--all of Night Ravens Staff would be lying if they said they hadn't heard the whispering of the students, their concern and worry filling the hallways. At least in the beginning, it was more aggravating than anything. Student's weren't paying attention in class, unless you were there, which is strange because it's usually the other way around. 
Divus would be lying if he said he didn't care about you. It was aggravating really, the need to protect you from these ravenous students, the need to keep you under his watchful gaze at all times, the need to make sure you are safe, even when he knows that no one will harm you, it's aggravating. It's not your fault, of course it's not your fault, it's these pathetic pups, dumping their problems onto you, taking up all your time, putting you in danger over and over again. It takes all his strength not to snap when he sees them beg for your attention, the clear exhaustion on your face as you smile and go along with them, because what else are you supposed to do? 
So, at least for Divus, it's not surprising when he hears that you might have found a way home. In fact, it came from your own mouth. It was one of the many after school meetings you had in his classroom, him grading papers as you talked to him, when you revealed what you had found about this mirror in your room. 
He wasn't surprised when you told him how exhausted you were, or how badly you missed your world. He was just disappointed, not in you, but himself. It was a strange feeling, he's not used to it honestly, but he wishes he would've done more, provided you a more stable environment, shielded you from this world and its horrors. Instead he and his colleagues let you fend for yourself and now they're paying the price. 
Divus would be lying if he said that he wasn't feeling regretful as he thought of everything you were put through. Divus would be lying if he said he wasn't feeling saddened by the thought you were leaving. 
But even more so, Divus would be lying if he said he was guilty as he warned Crowley about your plans. 
Mozus Trein
Mozus has dealt with children many times in his life. He's been a teacher for a very long time and he's a father of two wonderful daughters. He's dealt with the responsibility of being a role model, a caregiver, a trusted adult for the longest time, but never once has it been as much of a struggle as it was when it came to you. Don't get him wrong, you are a delight, but he was not prepared for everything that would come with you. The drama, the Overblots, the more than obsessed students. 
Mozus has learned to deal with it however, and he's come to enjoy his time with you. Some days, when you are with Divus, you'll come to his classroom after hours for tea or chess. You've even started an unofficial book club with him. He hasn't let anyone else join, regardless of how much they beg. 
Maybe it's because his daughters are grown, but he enjoys the time he spends with you, being a role model, a caregiver, a trusted adult. He could go without you being in danger every few months, but you were formidable enough. 
But to hear whispers of you leaving, it sends a familiar pain in his heart, similar to when his children left for school for the first time. He knows it is wrong to get so attached to you, especially when leaving was always your end goal, but he can't help but feel worried. He brings all these up to you, what happens if this mirror idea of you doesn't work, if you end up somewhere all by yourself, helpless and alone. He doesn't mean to make you worry, but if it keeps you safe, then he doesn't seem to mind. 
Ashton Vargas
Admittedly, Ashton doesn't know as much about you as he wishes. You seem to be scared of him, barely looking him in the eye or even interacting with him. It worries him, is there something wrong with you? With him even? What has he done to make you scared?Ashton wants to be like Divus and Mozus, he wants you to look up to him, he wants you to come up to him with worries and concerns, he doesn't want to intimidate you. Ashton tries his best for you, he really does. He makes sure to never overwork you during training, he's always the first to make sure you're okay and receiving the proper care if hurt, and he even reports to the other staff what the behavior of the other students are like, especially concerning you. 
Contrary to popular belief, Ashton is more observant than most people assume. He notices when you back away from him in fear, he notices when the other students start acting weird towards you, and he notices when they start to become concerned over the thought of you leaving. 
Honestly, Ashton hasn't thought much about you leaving, but now that it's become a hot topic at Night Raven, he's been thinking about it a lot more. Why do you want to leave so bad? What could he--they have done differently? What is your home even like? 
Ashton doesn't try to think about it much, even though it eats him up inside. He's worried so much in the past few days about you, but he won't let that change the very minuscule trust you've built with him. Instead, he'll stay to the side, observing and taking in information until the time is right. 
Until then, he'll try to remain a good teacher, just for you. 
Sam
Sam Is beloved by most students at Night Raven, it probably has to do with the fact that he's not a teacher. Not being a teacher actually comes with a lot of perks, it means the student's trust him more. They're more willing to divulge their secrets to him, talking about their grades or drama in class. It's almost like a game for him, figuring out how to piece together intricately woven stories just from the bits the kids tell him. 
Recently though, a lot of these stories seem to revolve around you. It started off with the first years, ranting and raving about a mirror as they shopped for items in his store. The second years were more composed, but there was an anxious aura to them. The third years confirmed that this school wide issue was revolving around you, but he should really be surprised, most things do. 
Sam likes you, you have such a vibrant personality, you're kind and respectful. But above everything else you were strong. You've dealt with so much since coming to this school, he's surprised you haven't brought up wanting to leave sooner. While Sam tried not to care, tries to remind himself that this was always going to happen. 
Sam tries not to care as you enter his shop, ranting to him about how weird everyone's been acting. He tries not to care as you tell him how busy you are, how you'll be up for hours doing work. He really tries, but all he can think about is you leaving, and what will happen once you do. How everyone else will handle it. 
Sam tries not to care, but it's hard when it comes to you. 
Crowley 
Crowley has tried his best when it comes to you, he genuinely believes that. 
He's tried to make sure you had a safe environment, he tried to make sure you were safe. He tried to find you a way home. He honestly did. But in a way, everything got away from him. From the Overblots to the many, many school trips he hasn't had time for much, truely! 
But even so, why would you want to go home? If you ignore your life being in danger once a month and the students' strange behavior, life is pretty good here. You have people who care about you, a home that's been recently renovated, and basically anything you could ask for. It was a nice life, so he couldn't understand why Divus was claiming you wanted to leave. 
Crowley wonders if he should confront you, tell you off for throwing away everything he's worked to give you. He thought against it however, knowing the response he'd get. Instead he chooses to march up to Ramshackle and demand you rethink all this. He doesn't know what's come over him, you're a magicless human from another world, there wouldn't be much of an issue if you left, for him at least. The other students wouldn't react as well. 
Now that Crowley is thinking about it, he doesn't think he wants you to leave. You are a big help when it comes to Overblots and keeping the students at bay, but it's more than that. Crowley has come to enjoy your time here, and he doesn't exactly look forward to you leaving. That's partly why he's taken so long to find you a way home, but you'll never know that. 
But to his surprise, you don't know what you're talking about when he shows up. You don't remember anything about leaving or a mirror, and you assume he's here because there's some job he needed you to do. He's--surprised, but he quickly realizes that it's due to a certain student's meddling. 
Not that it's anything he should worry about--honestly it just makes his job easier, he would've done the same.
---
A/n: Again sorry if there are out of character, this was difficult.
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doukeshi-kun · 2 months
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Ahem…Keshi…any thoughts about pornstar!nikolai? 🎤
I just think he’d be perfect for that job. He has a nice physique, a huge cock, he’s got the stamina, the enthusiasm— he’d be having so much fun. Just imagine something similar to the director!nikolai x reader AU, but here, Nikolai would be a well-known and pretty successful porn actor already, and the reader is a newbie and she gets to be Kolya‘s co-star!! Totally not losing my mind about this :>
𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙗𝙞𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧
replies ✥ i couldn't articulate my thoughts well but here's a drabble because i definitely agree with you hio. i agree with you a HUNDRED percent. will i probably make this another au/series? most likely ayeee
contents ✥ n.sfw 18+, fem!reader, petnames
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“Nice to meet you, sugar.”
You shyly accept Nikolai's hand, shaking it. Your heart is beating fast as he sits right next to you with a few papers in hand. You know what are those—they are contracts and briefings for a short porn movie you are about to film with this hot star right next to you.
You have known Nikolai since a few years ago when you first stumbled upon his video on a website while you were trying to satisfy yourself from your own sexual frustration. Safe to say, most, if not all, of his videos, certainly did help you get off. You have heard from some of your lucky pornstar friends that has worked with him of how good he is in bed.
Not to mention, his physique is enough to make your imagination run wild.
You started as a camgirl, before a few producers reached you out, offering roles. You declined them though, as you are anxious to venture deeper into the industry. However, you did accept this particular offer a little too quickly. An offer to film a porn video with Nikolai—who doesn't want that?
“Are you nervous?” He asks. His voice is sultry and gentle, though his grin is naughty and playful. You nod slowly. Your eyes can't help but trail from his body to his crotch. He is wearing a compressed black shirt and grey joggers. He is sitting with his legs spread as he skims the pages of the contract. It is just the two of you in the small prep room, as the staff are probably out there preparing the scene—you don't care. It is hard to think when Nikolai is beside you.
“My eyes are up here, sugar.” He says in a teasing voice and you look up immediately with a flustered face. Nikolai cackles—his voice is so nice. “You’re so cute. Don't be sorry, I'm used to it.” He winks.
You smile sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers. This prep room is hot—too fucking hot, even with the AC on. The very cock you watched almost every night is just within your reach. Your mouth waters, so you reach your cup of water to quench your non-existent thirst.
“I actually haven't seen you before... in videos.” Nikolai suddenly says as he puts down the papers on his thigh.
“Oh, right. I'm— This is my first recording for this kind of stuff.” You reply. Nikolai tilts his head, confused.
“Wait, so... Wait, do you even know what are we about to do right now?”
“I-I do! I mean, this is my first recording as a p-pornstar, you know. I am actually a camgirl... before I got offered to this.”
“May I see?”
You want to die—Nikolai wants to watch your videos? You are not even that popular but you do have a following. He gives you his phone, for you to search yourself. “Well, I guess.” You say as you search your own site for him to see. He grins, taking the phone once you find it.
He scrolls through your page, humming and chuckling at something you wish to not know. He looks at you, eyes studying you up and down and then to the screen. “You’re a faceless camgirl. No wonder I haven't seen you before.”
“Y-Yeah...”
“Hm?”
Nikolai clicks on one of your videos and you squeal in embarrassment when you realize that video was recorded when you were wearing a very sexy harlequin costume. You remember the whole time you were pleasing yourself to the camera, your mind kept replaying a certain porn video that was starred by Nikolai. It is impressive how you did not scream out his name when you squirted right onto the camera.
“You look sexy in that, sugar. So gorgeous!” He praises and your cunt clenches when you hear it. “I happen to love this sort of costume myself.” He adds and you swear your stomach feels funny at this point.
“I'll dress up like that more for you.”
“Oh?”
You bite your lips, realizing you just said it. But you know you cannot be timid, especially as a pornstar. So you give him a little sly smile, bringing your face closer to him. “What if I say that I dress like that because of you?”
Nikolai snorts, nudging your chin teasingly. “Confidence, I see. I like that too.” He says before he clicks on the 'Follow' button. “How about this, sugar? If you do well for today's filming, I'll bring you to my place.”
Your eyes widen. You want to nod eagerly, you do. But suddenly, the door to the prep room is opened from the outside. A staff calls for Nikolai to get him ready. He gets up and fixes his joggers. Your eyes catch the sight of the lines of his cock—it's big—through the fabric and you find yourself swallowing your saliva at the excitement brewing in your heart. Nikolai smirks, knowing well that he just got himself a jackpot.
“Look forward to it, sugar. You're gonna have fun, I promise ya'.”
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©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya
if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!
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etfrin · 4 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter five | part two | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Dr. Gaul is her own warning, Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, mentions of Arachnes' death
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 you meet Dr. Gaul and her snakes with Coryo at your side 🐍
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 here's part two!! Hope y'all enjoy it! Give me your feedback!
beta read by the AWESOME @nowitsmissing
series masterlist | navigation
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Classes were dull. He couldn't stop thinking about the morning, Sejanus' tears, and Lucy Gray's smile. It felt like a terrible dream possible when sick. He hates how easily Sejanus will have his girl after Coryo makes sure she wins.
He hates how he will never have you. And another district girl will be brought to riches undeserving or maybe Sejanus will leave with her.
He hates how he sees himself in Sejanus. Sejanus' sobs are so similar to the tantrum Coriolanus had thrown when he was eight. The tears were the same as his, unable to stop. The pain is too much. Coriolanus’ tears were of shame of who his soulmate was. Sejanus’ tears were of fear that his soulmate might die in the arena.
He had to make sure Lucy Gray won in the arena. Not because he felt pity for his so-called friend but for the fact that this would ensure his victory over the Plinth Prize. Surely, mentoring the soulmate of the heir of Plinth's fortune would get him some kind of reward, at least from the kind, foolish Sejanus.
Coriolanus received a dismissal from his current history class as he was called to meet Dr. Gaul. It took him mere minutes to reach the lab of the Academy where she was temporarily stationed until the games ended. His proposal is in his satchel. He sees you there, waiting for him, and he pauses.
He soaks you in, ignoring the confusion in your eyes. He stomps on his heart that he feels broken because of how fast it is beating. And begins to walk towards you confidently, trying to channel annoyance and anger over your actions of yesterday. He failed miserably.
He mirrors the small smile you give him and he acknowledges last night by saying, “How's the day going for you, little thief?” He feels his worries fade away, the paranoia that you might have stolen his work gone as he hears you laugh at being called a thief.
“I wasn't confident enough to let you read it, and it felt rude to make you walk back to her lab to submit when I was on my way there anyways,” you explained instead, your eyes hoping for his understanding and forgiveness.
You answered his question as well, “It's been going well, I was nearly late for my classes.”
It's pathetic how easily he caved in. “It's fine,” he whispered, “maybe next time don't leave a note, so the culprit isn't more obvious.” Coriolanus Snow decided your giggle was the prettiest sound he had ever heard and his face burns as his mind repeats it. You give him a friendly swat on his arm and Snow lets himself grin. A real smile with teeth, not the perfect one designated for his classmates.
His proposal is forgotten in his bag as he and you enter the lab. He pulls you a bit closer to him, and a bit behind so he's a step ahead. Dr. Gaul was insane and Coriolanus couldn't help the feeling of being protective of you. He didn't want you to receive even a scratch while he was there.
Dr. Gaul greets you and the Coryo with a feral look in her eyes and her red-stained lips in a wild grin befitting animals. You politely greet her back and Coriolanus follows. Coriolanus swallows as he sees hundreds if not more rainbow-colored snakes in a tank.
“For the games?” He hears you ask.
Dr. Gaul replied, “We'll see, child. Now come forth.”
Coriolanus swallows and even though he shouldn't, he holds your hand, his fingers gripping yours and he walks forward, still keeping you a step behind.
The snakes hiss and move around the tank in swirls of color that hurt his eyes. But in the limited space, he could almost make out parchments with familiar handwriting. What was Dr. Gaul planning?
As if on cue, Dr. Gaul asked, “Which brings me to your proposal. I liked it. Who wrote it? Just you two? Or did your brassy friend weigh in before her throat was cut?”
Coriolanus is surprised by the small laugh you let out, and he sees the humor in Dr. Gauls’ eyes. “No ma'am, I am sure she was rather busy choking on blood. They were written by us,” you said.
“Is that so?” Gauls' voice is full of suspicion but it deters neither of you.
“Yes,” Coriolanus butts in. “Our proposals were written completely by us.”
“Well, let's read it again, shall we?” Dr. Gaul adds, “Unfortunately, my assistant lined this very case with it while I was having my lunch. Let's retrieve it, shall we?”
“Isn't it dangerous?” Coriolanus asked, his voice edged.
Dr. Gaul chuckled and explained, “They can’t see too well, and they hear even less,” said Dr. Gaul. “But they know you’re there. Snakes can smell you using their tongues, these mutts here more than others.” “If you’re familiar, if they have pleasant associations with your scent — a warm tank, for instance — they’ll ignore you. A new scent, something foreign, that would be a threat,” said Dr. Gaul. “You’d be on your own, little boy.”
He doesn't let the fear swallow him, not when he saw how eager you were to prove her suspicions wrong. He didn't want to take Dr. Gauls' words at face value but what else could he do? In no world, he would let you dip your hand into a pit of possibly venomous snakes. Not if he had a choice.
“Me first then,” he said, his voice filled with (fake) confidence.
He puts his hand inside the tank, trying not to shiver in disgust. The snakes ignore him, slithering around his hand as he wiggles through to pull out his proposal successfully. It was safe. Which means you could do the same as well. He hands his proposal to Dr. Gaul before stepping so you can repeat the action.
And you succeed as well with flying colors. You step back to stand beside Snow as Gaul holds both of your works. She raised an eyebrow impressed but Coriolanus can see the underlying disappointment and vows to never leave you alone in her presence.
Dr. Gaul said, “Well… I will try to implement both of your ideas for the Games as soon as possible. The victory tour and idea of what you called tesserae were impeccable. Same with your idea, Coriolanus Snow. I am proud to have you both as Capitol students. I am also looking forward to Arachnes’ funeral”
“Now leave,” Dr. Gaul dismissed, “It's time for my tea and crackers.”
Coriolanus couldn't walk out of there faster. Je catches you before you can walk away. Your actions tilted his reality, in so little time since the reaping day, you were changing every thought of his.
“Choking on blood?” He said, “So much for Arachne's 'family'.”
You raised an eyebrow, “There were people in the library and it was already a bad look that we weren't in our homes grieving or whatever.”
He frowned, “So that tear- those red eyes were fake?”
You looked around the hall, the students present were out of earshot. You pulled him closer by the collar and whispered,
“Guess your songbird isn't the only performer.”
Your lips were mere inches away from his. He could seal a kiss. He could take you- he processes your words and doesn't know how to react. You… you changed his whole reality, his perception of you with a sentence. Coriolanus Snow didn't know what to make of you anymore.
You pulled back (why, why, why) and handed him your proposal. “I need you to know, everything I wrote here is for Panem. Don't judge me too harshly.”
You were nothing like he thought of and you were laid bare as he read down your proposal, what you had planned for Arachnes’ funeral. And in his mind, he realized that perhaps. . .
You stopped being District a long time ago.
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NEXT PART
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sftykth · 5 days
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the bimbo maid ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ anakin skywalker.
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★ summary: agreeing with your best friend to find a job over the summer, leads you the well known bimbo to work as Anakin Skywalker’s personal maid which takes an unexpected turn.
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★ pairing: college student y/n x modern!ceo anakin skywalker.
★ genre: college au, ceo au, age gap (reader is 20, anakin is 40)
★ a/n: hi guys:) first part to the series let me know if you like another part. or if you have any requests drop them on my inbox! i love writing something on similar basis.
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Summer had finally approached which meant that finals were over and you had plenty of time to yourself. Being a university student was easy for you, had the perfect grades, never too broke for nights out thanks to your rich father. You two had a fairly decent relationship, though he never really payed much attention to your whereabouts. Sometimes thoughts of a better connection with your father crossed your mind but there was little you could do.
You were shaken out of your thoughts when you felt a shove to your shoulder. "Earth to Y/n, what got you so caught up huh?" the voice of your best friend Irene took you out of trance.
You gave her a cheeky smile, "Oh nothing don't mind me. So what are the plans for the summer, now we are free from the hell hole?"
"Well I was hoping we could finally get some work experience, you know like I mentioned before" she responded with a hopeful look. You groaned at the mention of work, you didn't understand her obsession with doing manual labor when you two were perfectly fine for money. Actually more than fine. Growing up with a rich father had its perks but it did encourage for a naive behavior for you. You didn't really notice it, too busy making sure you looked your best and always too good enough for college boys.
"Irene we talked about this already, what use will it be for people like us to work. Like it is so pointless we have everything we want. We don't have to work to prove anything" You gave your honest opinion, not really bothering to think about reality of life, too busy in your own head daydreaming away.
She rolled her eyes before you saw a sly smirk pull at her lips. "Oh god what? Why are you looking at me like that? I told you I am not doing it."
"Oh but you are you remember how you said you owe me big time after you cock blocked me at Colby's party?" She says her arms folded with a proud grin on her face. Face palming yourself at the memory. "that was like months ago can't you let it go, cmon Irene." You gave her your best puppy eyes which always seemed to work on everyone, your big sparkly eyes which seems to make men fold in an instance.
However, your antics didn't work as your best friend just gave you the death stare. "Ugh fine I will do it even if I think this is the most stupid thing you could have come up with." You state after minutes of trying to persuade your friend, she squealed in joy a big smile spreading across her face "trust me Y/n this will help us in the long run and I'm just glad I won't be the only one suffering during summer" She said running away before you could say another word. Rolling your eyes you could only hope, God was on your side this time round.
-
A good few weeks had passed since the interaction, and you really had tried to find a job. You scanned every newspaper, every article online but nothing seemed to work. No callbacks, nothing. Somehow you convinced yourself that this is your fathers fault, carrying his surname obviously put you at a disadvantage from the rest as it carries intimidation. Or that you didn't see the fact that it wasn't the surname but the persona itself that made these employers turn you away. As your father was a very well known business man the media had taken its interest in calculating his every move, as a result it caused you to be dragged along. They captured you as the typical blonde bimbo who was only best at looking good.
Those media articles didn't bother you much, you knew deep inside that you were better than that. Yes you were very high maintenance and you needed everything to be as you liked but that didn't mean you were stupid. You always hear what people have to say behind your backs, that is why Irene was your only best friend. Though she was born in a similar family, she understood you and the reality behind such life.
"Honey?" You heard you fathers voice call out. You looked up from where you were brushing your hair at your vanity. "Hm what's up? You needed something?" Continuing to brush through your hair not minding much attention to him, though slightly intrigued what he wanted so late at night. Usually he is too busy locked away in his office late nights to have any time to come to say good nights.
He clears his throat before starting, "well I heard you were looking for a job but not having much luck. And I wanted to see if I could be any help?" Turning around as confusion clouded your brain, how did he know but then realization that probably one of the maids you were talking about it with had mentioned it to him.
"Oh yeah, not sure if you can be any help. I tried absolutely everywhere and nobody wants me." The topic brought tears to your eyes, it was stupid you didn't even want this. Only doing it for your best friend.
He approached you and patted your shoulder "Oh honey don't cry it's okay, I actually had something in mind. This work friend of mine had mentioned in passing he was looking for a new maid, his old one had moved away and the house is pretty massive so he needs the help."
You frowned at his words, "a maid? Do I look like like a maid to you dad? This is just bellow me, I- I can't" You couldn't believe your father's word right now, a maid? You never treated your maids any less of course, but the thoughts of actually working as a maid made you disgusted.
He looked at me knowingly, "I know honey, you don't have to take it but it is something worth considering. His family are also very well off so you would be in great hands I'm sure." His words slightly eased me, you really hated the idea of working as a maid not used to getting your hands dirty. "Who?" You gently asked playing with the ends of your skirt.
"The Skywalker's, honey." The name sounded familiar to your ears, you heard of the man that was in charge of one of the companies but there was never an opportunity to meet him.
"What do you say, hm? I will give him a call so he could arrange a meeting before you start. Would give you a chance to get a sense of the house and what it would be like." Your father really tried to encourage you, even though he was not the most present father out there he really tried to do everything for the better for his family. Even if that family was just you and him.
The idea still bothered you but you gave him a nod, too tired to fight. You figured it wouldn't hurt to at least meet the guy. You father gave you a big smile in return, proud of your choice. "Alright honey, I will let him know as soon as I can."
-
To say the fact you were nervous was an understatement, you where stood out the big dark gates that hid the Skywalker's residency. You adjusted your pastel pink skirt which ended just at mid thighs, as you waited for the gates to open after ringing the bell on your left. You made sure to pay extra attention to your appearance today, made sure your make up was just right, with the right amounts of blush and lipgloss. Wearing one of your favorite white crop top which had two animated bunnies on it, paired with white thigh highs.
The idea of dressing in a formal way didn't even cross your mind, as you believed you didn't have to do all the typical interview things you had heard Irene mention in passing.
Once the gates had opened you took a shaky breath, before approaching the large doors. You finally started to feel the reality of what was happening, you didn't know what to expect from this meeting. You could only hope he was nice, was he? Was a he strict boss? Or maybe he was kind and gentle? Many thoughts flooded your head, you didn't even notice the door being pulled open.
"And who are you?" A shrill voice caused you to jump, tighting your hold on your mini bag, you looked up to see an older woman. Probably around your fathers age, though she looked beautiful. The smile wrinkles having its mark didn't take away the youthful beauty she once held. She must be the wife, you thought.
"I'm Y/n, Mrs Skywalker. My father arranged an appointed with you for the new position as the maid." You shyly stated as you felt intimidated by the harsh look she continued to give you. She scoffed in response, "seriously? Aren't you too young to be working?" She shook her head at me, "I'm twenty, Mrs Skywalker."
"Right whatever, just come in already and head straight to the dining room." She pointed straight, I quickly took my chance and rushed to the direction she pointed not wanting to anger her more. You weren't sure what her problem was, but you knew you wouldn't have much patience if she treated you as dirt. After all you were an Kenobi and nobody treated Kenobi's with disrespect.
"So kid, who was it that recommended you here?" She questioned as she towered over you, a dark look still in her eyes. You weren't too scared so you didn't back away, "Obi Wan, Mrs Skywalker. My father." You proudly stated, watching her gaze avert for a second. Got you.
"I see. I didn't actually hear from him though kid. Can you explain that to me." She once again glared at you, as you were ready to respond a deep voice had cut her off.
"That is because he spoke to me Padme, now leave. I will not ask again." A tall man entered the room, his aura surrounding the whole room in almost a suffocating way. She finally turned her glare from m you to her husband, "fine. But please for the love of god hire someone actually worthy." She spat before leaving the room, an obvious stab at you. You lowered your head trying to not let tears prickle your eyes, you couldn't appear weak now. Not in front of this man.
"Look up. Now." The harsh voice made my head instantly look up, met with such piercing blue eyes you nearly gasped. They seemed so full of emotion that you couldn't decipher what. However, the intimidation you felt was clear not only to you but him as well. Though your mind had it own idea of drifting away, as you thought about how good looking he was. You couldn't actually believe how hot he was for someone of his age, you were never attracted to such older guys before so it shocked you.
"Am I going to have to repeat myself? Or will you be a good girl and listen." The rough sound of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts about the man that stood right above you. You gulped, clearly missing what he had said but the mention of the nickname had made your thighs squeezing without you realizing.
"Sorry sir, I- I didn't hear you." You managed to whisper out, something about him made you cower away. Not really knowing what to do with yourself. "I asked. When can you start?" He says his cold stare never leaving me, my eyebrows shot up. Was he not going to ask any questions? Was getting a job really that easy?
"Oh um I can start whenever you want me to. I'm fully available." You hoped you didn't sound too desperate, but you were being honest with him. "Good. You can start tomorrow." He stresses before starting to walk away from me, not before turning around and pointing at me "and please come dressed in something more, appropriate. Though we do have an uniform you can get dressed in." Were his last words before quickly leaving the room.
Left stunned, you didn't even manage to ask what the uniform was. You really hoped you could survive this summer working for this man. He seemed to not like you by the cold stare he kept giving you, you could only hope he becomes nicer or else it will make this experience harder.
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— thanks for reading:) if you like another part let me know. and if you like to be in my tag list for future stories let me know too!
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joelscruff · 11 months
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wait (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+
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first and foremost! this is part of my boyfriend's dad!joel series and takes place after "words". this won't really make sense if you haven't read that one! it's so crazy to me how this started out as a silly little smutty drabble and somehow became this. this one's kind of heavy (read the warnings!!) but i promise that things won't stay this angsty forever. at its root this story is supposed to be smutty and fun and i promise there will be more of that in the future. i hope you enjoy it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: it's been a month since your boyfriend discovered your relationship with his father and a month since you've seen joel. it's starting to take its toll. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, sexting, comeplay, angst, allusions to past trauma, shitty family dynamics (addiction & verbal abuse), panic attacks word count: 3.2k
i miss you
it's the only thing you've thought about texting him for about a month, a text you always type out and then erase a few moments later. it's something you swore to yourself that you wouldn't do no matter how lonely you got. he'd said he needed time, and you want to give it to him. and yet here you are, leaning against the window of your bus home from community college with tears in your eyes, phone in hand, wanting nothing more than to see him. selfish.
it's been one of the loneliest periods of your life. you've known loneliness, felt it throughout most of your childhood, through your adolescence, it's nothing new. but with joel you'd finally begun to feel whole again, like you actually mattered to someone. he looked forward to seeing you, to holding you, being with you. you'd never felt so desired and loved and protected in your whole life.
now you're back to having nothing, no one. it's a harsh reality you're forcing yourself to accept. you still haven't heard anything from your boyfriend - now ex, of course, though there was never any official breakup - and even that's a punch to the gut, an added depth to a loss that you caused.
he's hurting, i hurt him, joel's words repeat in your head. it breaks your heart that he's feeling so guilty, that he feels that he caused this entire thing when it's really your fault. if you weren't such a mess of a person, such a broken human being, the whole thing wouldn't have even happened to begin with. what kind of person sleeps with their boyfriend's father? starts a relationship with him? calls him daddy?
you know you caused this and yet you can't help but miss him so much. it's like he's ingrained himself into your bones somehow, his touch tattooed into your skin. he's all you think about, dream about. you miss being in his embrace, being held by him, whispering daddy in his ear and feeling understood, not judged. you miss his gentle kisses to your nose, the safety of his lap, his arms around your trembling form while he fucked you, took you, made you his.
you stare at the unsent text message and inevitably find yourself scrolling back up to a previous conversation from a few months back, short and simple. texting was never a frequent medium for the two of you, more-so used for you to send him dirty pictures every so often to tease him a bit. you briefly look at the picture, a close-up shot of your bare pussy with some of his come leaking out; absolutely filthy.
still have u inside me daddy
oh baby, so messy. what am I gonna do with you?
you smile at the silliness of it all, the filthiness, but it quickly fades when you remember the reality of the situation again, the fact that your boyfriend had read joel's messages, had definitely seen these texts in particular. he'd called joel a sick man. you don't agree, but you can understand why; if you'd seen a text interaction like this between your own father and a girl half his age... you'd probably have a similar reaction - though the concept of your father showing a woman any affection in the first place is alien in itself.
your bus pulls up to the stop near your house and you get off, slipping your phone back into your pocket and hiking your backpack over your shoulder as you go. it's only a short walk to your house, no more than three minutes, though you usually try to make it a bit longer to delay the inevitable disaster of your home life.
you take it one step at a time, slowly walking down the darkening street with fresh tears in your eyes. god, you're so lonely. you don't want to go home, don't want to be accosted by your alcoholic father and avoidant mother, your asshole brother who never gives you a break. it's so damn depressing in that house; when you'd first gotten together with your boyfriend you'd been so relieved to finally have somewhere else to go that wasn't school or home, another reason you'd stayed with him for so long despite the relationship being doomed. you should have known it couldn't last.
you'd told joel everything. it's hard to believe sometimes that the connection you shared was strong enough for you to trust him with some of your darkest secrets, the worst things from your past. he knows all about your family, all about what you've been through, had listened to you quietly and earnestly as you cried into his shoulder about the hand life had dealt you. he'd rubbed your back, kissed your forehead, whispered it's okay, and i'm here now, and i'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart. and he did. he did take care of you. he'd done everything right and somehow you still managed to fuck it up.
the lights are on in the house when you arrive at the front gate, though the car is missing from the driveway; this only means that your mother is out late tonight, probably staying with a friend or a lover or whoever she turns to when shit gets bad. you can't blame her - you'd done the exact same thing when you'd actually had somewhere to go - but part of you still aches for that little girl inside you that needs her, wishes she was inside waiting for you, though it's not like she'd do much to help.
your father is definitely home, probably your brother as well. you stand at the gate, gripping the strap of your backpack and deliberating even bothering to go inside. you know you'll be accosted at the front door by either a drunken tirade or bitter argument. it's a no-win situation no matter how you look at it. your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, grateful for one last brief distraction.
i miss you too, angel. so much.
your eyes go wide, heart stuttering in your chest as you stare at the words.
"fuck," you breathe, "fuck, fuck fuck," you quickly scroll up to confirm your fears - the i miss you text, the one you always erase, the one you make sure to never send - you'd somehow sent it this time, entirely by mistake.
tears are stinging your eyes as you turn on the spot and start walking back and forth in front of your house, running your hand through your hair in disbelief while you stare at joel's text. you fucking idiot. what the fuck have you done? what happened to giving him space? you stupid fucking bitch. you absolute loser. you're suddenly berating yourself the exact same way you know your father and brother will berate you if you go in the house now. you can already picture it - them seeing your tear stained cheeks, the puffiness of your eyes, the words they'll throw at you to hurt you even more, make you feel small.
fucking bitch. fucking loser. fucking idiot.
your breathing is becoming more and more erratic the longer you pace. you can't go in now, not after this, not after seeing that he misses you too and being so fucking close yet so far away. all you can suddenly think about is all those wasted moments at his house, spending so much time with your asshole boyfriend when you could have been with joel, been loved instead of tossed aside like garbage.
god, if you could only hear his voice. if you could just talk to him for one minute before you have to go into this godforsaken hellhole.
before you even fully understand what you're doing, you're hitting the call button and bringing the phone up to your ear.
he answers on the first ring.
"h-"
"i can't do this anymore," you gasp out through a sob, not even bothering to let him say anything, "joel, i can't do it, i miss you so fucking much it hurts."
"babygirl," he breathes, voice rough and deep and gorgeous and familiar, sweet like honey in your ear, "where are you? are you okay?"
and that's enough to break you.
you feel the tears begin to stream down your face, hot and unrelenting. you shake your head even though he can't see you, throat bobbing through repetitive gasps, "no, i'm not okay," you blubber, "da- fuck, joel, i- i can't do this, i can't be by myself anymore. i'm - " you don't even know where this is coming from, voice muddled, "i'm so lonely. i can't do it anymore, i can't. please, i can't."
he makes a devastating sound at your words, something between a sob and a gasp, "where are you?" he repeats, voice full of concern, "where are you, baby? i'm gonna come get you."
"the bus stop by my house," you manage to tell him through your tears, reaching the little bench and situating yourself on it without an ounce of hesitation, "i was- i was gonna go home but," another sob rips through your throat, "but they're home and i- i can't- i can't take it anymore, joel. i don't wanna be there anymore, i can't be there."
"you stay where you are, you hear me?" you can hear movement on the other line, the rattle of keys, footsteps, "don't go home, babygirl, i'm comin'. i'll be there in ten minutes."
"okay," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, "okay."
"deep breaths, baby, remember?" and you do remember; he'd taught you some exercises to help in situations like this, when you feel like the world is falling apart around you and you're just getting smaller and smaller, disappearing into nothingness. he'd held your hands while you'd sat in his lap, eyes closed as you both matched each other's breathing, melted into one another. "in and out, babygirl, that's it. real slow, count for me."
"i r-remember," you manage to hiccup, squeezing your chest with your other hand and trying to ground yourself.
the wait is excruciating, no matter how short, and no matter the fact that joel is on the other end trying to calm you. you sit on the bench with a hand on your heart and the other on your stomach, listening to joel count to five over and over, phone upturned on your thigh.
"big breath in. one...two...three...four...five," he says through the muffled sounds of traffic and wind, "big breath out. one...two...three...four...five." over and over and over again, "i'm turnin' the corner, baby, i'm almost there," he says after about ten minutes of this, "you see me, honey?"
you look up to find his headlights, getting brighter and brighter as they approach. you shakily sit up from the bench, breath coming out much less erratic now, "y-yes," you whisper.
seconds later the car is pulling up in front of you and he's jumping out, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he dashes around it. it's been so long since you've seen him that it's jarring to suddenly have him in front of you, sprinting toward your small and shaking form with his jacket undone, shoes mismatched, glasses askew. you catch a glimpse of his expression, concerned and upset - are those tears? - before he scoops you up into his arms and pulls you in close to him.
"i'm here," he tells you, voice rumbling through his chest against your cheek, solid and warm, "i'm here now, babygirl, you're okay. you're okay."
and somehow you are.
--
"i'm sorry," is all you can say to him as he drives you to his house, hand holding yours tightly the whole way, "i'm such an idiot, i'm so sorry."
"stop saying that," he repeats for maybe the fourth time, shaking his head and squeezing your hand even more firmly, "you're not an idiot and you have nothing to be sorry about."
you really are okay now, breaths calm and tears not even flowing anymore. instead the guilt and shame and humiliation have taken over, sinking into your skin as you lean back in the passenger seat with your hood pulled up, hiding your face from him.
"i was giving you space," you mutter, "i didn't even mean to text you, it was an accident. i was being stupid, as usual."
"stop it," he says again, "stop being mean to yourself."
you close your eyes and face away from him, "easier said than done."
the two of you drive in silence for a few moments, that is until he asks, "have you eaten?" and you say, "no."
he buys you mcdonalds and doesn't let go of your hand.
--
the house hasn't changed. you hadn't really expected it to; it's not like it's been that long since you were last here. you don't bother even sneaking a peek at your ex boyfriend's bedroom as joel leads you upstairs, curiosity nonexistent.
you're not sure why you expect him to take you into his office, maybe sit on the couch with you and talk. to your surprise he leads you straight past the door, down the hallway to what you can only assume is his bedroom - a place you've never been in all your months of being with him.
"sit down," he tells you softly as he opens the door, pulling you slowly inside and nodding toward the queen sized bed, "i'll get you something to wear."
"okay," you breathe, barely looking at him as you examine the room in front of you, large but cozy, cool colors but a warm atmosphere, framed music posters and blueprints covering the walls - exactly what you'd expect from someone like joel. you shuffle forward and drop your bag at the end of his bed, sitting on the edge of it while he goes to his dresser.
you end up in one of his sleep shirts and a pair of his underwear, loving the feeling of being his again, even if neither of you have actually talked about what exactly this means for your relationship. he helps you change, tugging off your worn-out jeans and the same shirt you've worn for three days in a row, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls off your panties and replaces them with his boxers. it's not sexual, but part of you still longs to pull him on top of you, just feel his weight, smell his cologne.
he pulls back the duvet and helps you climb inside onto your stomach, rubbing your arms and shoulders and releasing some of the tension you've been feeling for the past month. you feel him press another kiss to the back of your neck, pushing your hair out of the way and stroking it gently, giving you all the care and attention you've been aching for. his hands are so big, so comforting and safe, touching you everywhere without any expectations or underlying motive.
"i missed you, daddy," you whisper against his pillow, not sure if he can even hear you, even more unsure whether it's okay to use that word anymore.
he doesn't reply right away, still kneading his thumbs into the base of your back and massaging you gently. you hear him inhale and exhale deeply a few times, like he's biding time while he figures out what to say.
"sorry," you wince, "joel."
he releases you then, helps you turn over so you're on your back and peering up at him with uncertainty. he sits on the edge of the bed and reaches down to thumb your cheek, eyes sad and tired.
"i wanna be that for you, sweetheart," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "i do. i want it more than you even realize," he takes a breath, biting down on his lip briefly, "i just... i need you to tell me somethin'. be honest with me now."
your heart skips a beat, "what?"
"when you said you loved me..." his voice breaks a bit and you ache to reach for him, cup his cheek and hold him close, "was it because of what we've been doin'?" he seems to reassess his words, shaking his head slightly, "i mean, did it...did you actually mean it? or was it... was it just part of the game?"
you stare at him for a few seconds, lips parting and eyes going slightly wide. without a second thought you do exactly what you'd just been thinking about, reaching up to place your hand against his face, feeling his scruff beneath your palm. he leans in and takes a breath, peering into your eyes with a yearning you can't describe, can only feel.
you shake your head slowly, "joel," you whisper, "it's never been a game."
his eyes close, stuttering out another breath when your thumb strokes his cheek soothingly. unable to hold back anymore, you lean up to capture his mouth in a soft kiss, sweet and tender and familiar. his hand finds the back of your head, pulls you closer, claims you again.
he fucks you slow.
it's never been like this, never has he fucked you the way he fucks you now. you barely speak, just moan and whimper and sigh and melt into each other the way you've never truly been able to, not without prying ears and a time limit hanging over your heads. your hands tangle in his hair while he hits that deep spot inside you, holds you close, buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, pounds into you relentlessly like you'll both come apart at the seams if he lets go.
you're biting it back, trying not to say it as much as you desperately want to, still unsure if this is really want he wants. just tell me what to do and i'll do it. i don't care, i'm yours. he looks into your eyes and you can't help but start crying again, overwhelmed by the warmth of him, the safety. he thumbs your tears and kisses them away.
"say it," he murmurs to you as you both near your inevitable release, the tension building and building as he grabs your face with both hands and fucks you with purpose, with passion, "say it, babygirl, tell me."
you shake your head, suddenly self conscious, suddenly afraid. the feelings from earlier tonight rise back in your chest, making a home in the back of your throat as a sob threatens to rip through it.
"it's okay," he whispers, voice trembling with the speed of his thrusts, "it's okay, honey, i wanna hear you say it," he furrows his brow and releases a groan, so close to the edge, "please, baby, say it. need you to say it."
you pull him close, grip his back, press your lips to his ear, "daddy."
he groans, dark and rough, "that's it," he murmurs, "that's it baby, i'm your daddy. that's right." he pulls back to look at you, eyes meeting yours in a passionate gaze that lasts forever, "say it again."
"daddy," you whine, unable to unlock your eyes from his, lip trembling as you submit entirely to him, "feels so good, daddy."
there's something in his expression you can't place, something in his words that reverberates in your brain like a pinball. say it again... you realize it means more than you'd initially thought. he's not just asking you to say one word - he's asking for three.
"i love you," you cry out just as he presses his thumb to your clit, pushes you over the edge, "i love you."
he comes just as you do, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as your fingers scramble for purchase at his back, holding him impossibly close to the point where his entire body weight is on top of you, but you don't care. all you can feel is the way his heart beats against your chest, the way his gasps match yours, finding the same rhythm.
you lay there still for what feels like eternity, joel laying on top of you with his cock still deep inside and his forehead pressed against your shoulder. your tears have stopped but you feel the dampness of his own on your skin, hear the gasp he lets out as he sets his emotions free.
"i love you too," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and quick, voice wrecked, "god, i love you so much."
for the first time, you stay the night.
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aspoonofsugar · 3 months
Note
Hi! Where do you think Alastor's arc is going? Redemption or villainy?
Hi!
Thank you for the ask, I loved watching Hazbin Hotel and I am happy I can write for the series :)
As for now, I think Alastor will spiral and hurt Charlie very badly, but he will eventually redeem himself (probably in a key moment). That is because Alastor is framed as Charlie's Jungian shadow.
What is the Jungian Shadow?
According to Jung, the shadow is what a person represses, both positive and negative. So, it can be one's violent tendencies, but also one's potential and energy. It really depends on the person.
So, why does Alastor fit the Shadow Archetype? Well, first of all:
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Alastor's powers make use of shadows. Not only that, but Alastor's own shadow is very expressive and shows the demon's repressed feelings. In other words:
On the one hand Alastor embodies the shadow, in the sense he represents what Charlie refuses to face
On the other hand Alastor himself represses his emotions behind a smiling face:
Alastor: Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what is going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing and ensures tha no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control.
This is a good characterization for a jungian shadow because the shadow grows stronger and more dangerous, when it's ignored. So, the most one refuses to face their feelings, the most these feelings fester and grow powerful and dangerous. This fits Alastor both when it comes to others and to his own character:
He takes advantage of an emotional unstable and vulnerable Charlie to strike an abimguous deal with her. Similarly, he uses Husk's gambling addiction to steal his soul. He uses people's weaknesses an unsolved problems to take over.
He suffocates his feelings, which symbolically manifest in his powerful shadow-tentacles. His design and abilities are representative of his psychological coping mechanism, which is nothing, but repression.
As written above, though, the Jungian Shadow can be both negative and positive depending on what one hides. This duality is shown in Alastor's two roles in Charlie's arc:
He is a demonic archetype (even moreso than Lucifer, the titular devil), as he waits in the shadows for a chance to manipulate Charlie
He is an evil mentor, as he genuinelly likes Charlie, sees her potential and wants to guide her towards greatness:
She's filled with potential that I could guide
This isn't a contradiction, but complexity. Alastor is chaotic and mixes negative traits and intentions with positive ones. Just like what people repress can be both bad and good, usually at the same time.
This is clear when it comes to the Princess of Hell:
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Charlie to Alastor: What's that you said about smiles?
Charlie is similar to Alastor in how she represses herself behind her pollyanna persona and her smile. This doesn't mean she is faking her altruism and generosity, but that she is using these traits to hide something else:
Lute: The only reason you're still here is that Daddy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist's blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.
Deep down, Charlie invests herself in the Hazbin Hotel project because she wants to matter. She feels powerless and unimportant, as a result of her parents' neglects and of Hell's difficult situation.
So, our protagonist has strong self-issues that she refuses to face:
Husk: Princess is a bleedy heart who wants to solve everybod else's problems, 'cept her own.
That said, this isn't the only thing Charlie represses. The Princess of Hell hides:
Every negative emotions she feels, like her self-hate or her anger at Vaggie for hiding her true identity:
Rosie: How does that make you feel? Charlie: Just... angry? Because we share everything! Because she always supported me, and my ideas, and now I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies... Oh no, that's a horrible thing to think! Do I think that? Yes! No? Kinda?
Her most violent and aggressive side, which makes so she is unable to make full use of her powers:
Vaggie: Well, I mean... You're the princess of Hell, but you don't really use the power that comes with that. Mybe you can, I don't know? Command a little more... authority. Charlie: But that's so mean.
In short, by repressing her negative feelings, she also represses her potential. It is only by facing herself as a whole, that she can fully grow and bloom into her most powerful and complete self:
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This is made clear in Charlie's quest in Cannibal Town. There, our girl is at her lowest, but she is pushing herself forward for the sake of her loved ones. She is trying to imitate Alastor by smiling, even if she is sour inside. However, things do not go well and it is only through her heart to heart chat with Rosie, that Charlie is able to pull herself together and inspire her people. Symbolically, she gets through them not with a 100% optimistic song like "Inside of every demon is a rainbow". Rather she opens her speech, by showing vulnerability and honesty:
It's a feeling like a rumbling in your gut That you could finally be faced with A billion needy faces I guess what I mean to say is For the first time in my life I might have to be ready for this Ready to be the one who's leading from the front Gotta come into my own Gotta come into my throne Gotta take charge and defend my only home And although I kinda feel unsteady Now I need to be ready for this
She affirms who she is and her willingness to grow into herself:
For the first time in my life Maybe I can be ready for this I can be the marshal leading the parade I can come into my own And I think I've always known My destiny could never be postponed When Adam brings the battle here I must appear like I'm ready for this
So, it is only by tapping into her own shadow that Charlie can be successfull. It is through expression and not repression that she can reach her goals.
What about Alastor?
He is the same, but so far he has been refusing to open up to others:
Angel: He's been here a while and he's still a big, creepy mystery.
That said, his time at the Hazbin Hotel has had an impact on him. He is forced to deal with others without killing them:
Vaggie: Pentious's eggs are all over the place. I need you to get rid of them. (...) Humanely!
He is shown cutting ties with a poisonous friend:
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He openly admits he likes the people of the hotel:
Alastor: Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed.
However, he still refuses to openly show vulnerability and ends up like this:
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Let's highlight that Charlie and Alastor are foiled in The Show Must Go On song.
Both stand in the ruins of their homes/dreams.
The Hotel:
I took a hotel, and I destroyed it I know I could have done better Better, instead of letting you down
The Radio Station:
This place reeks of death There's a chill in the air And I barely escaped being killed by a hair
And both decide not to give up and to keep pursuing their objectives. However, Charlie is framed positively, while Alastor negatively. Why?
Charlie sings about her feelings openly and is supported by her father and found family:
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Alastor sings about his pain privately and even then he barely shows his desperation before going back to his villanious mask:
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Symbolically the moment Alastor reunites with the Hotel Crew, he sings:
And we're doing it with a smile!
He is back in control of himself, ready to hide everything behind his neverchanging smile.
So, Alastor is both Charlie's negative foil and Jungian Shadow. As her negative foil, he is bound to spiral. As her Jungian Shadow he is bound to be saved. Why is that so? Two reasons.
The Jungian Shadow can't be killed, but needs to be integrated with.
The main themes of the series are redemption and love, so it is improbable that Charlie won't help the person, who co-founded the hotel with her.
If anything, it seems that our princess is progressively asked to forgive, inspire and see the good in more and more complex cases.
It starts with Angel, who willingly stays at the Hotel. It goes on with Pentious, who infiltrates the Hotel, but makes no real damage. Then Lucifer, whom Charlie loves, but that has been absent from the majority of her life. Finally, Vaggie, who breaks Charlie's trust.
Each conflict Charlie has challenges her in a different way and helps her discover herself and grow. She is bound to meet new struggles when Lilith becomes a broken pedestal and finally when Alastor betrays or hurts her. Still, she is going to forgive and to understand them.
Charlie is going to see the good in Alastor and to better understand herself as a result. As a matter of fact Charlie's journey is one where she is slowly discovering a world, which isn't black and white:
If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again
Just like people aren't black and white. Just like she herself isn't black and white. By saving Alastor, she is gonna save herself too. Together with the whole universe.
And what about Alastor? Well, he needs to work on himself, as well. He too must integrate with his shadow, who is embodied by a certain character:
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Husk is a powerful overlord, who lost his soul to a demon. Just like Alastor:
Husk: Big talk for someone, who's also on a leash.
Alastor and Husk are both on a leash. Still, Husk admits it and starts working on his shortcoming:
Husk: You're a loser, just like me
Alastor instead affirms his willingness to be in control and to pull the strings:
Once I figure out how to unclip my wings Guess who will be pulling all the strings?
Alastor is a loser, just like Husk. Just like all the characters in hell. Sinners vs Winners. And yet, he refuses to admit it. This is why he makes no progress. Similarly, he wants freedom, but enslaves others. This isn't going to work out, which is why I am fairly certain he will eventually set Husk free. Probably by doing so, Alastor will make the first real step towards his own freedom. He will start integrating his own shadow.
Thank you for the ask!
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roosterforme · 8 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: What are you supposed to do when you don't know how to talk to your husband? How is he supposed to love you and your body when you can't even figure out how to love yourself anymore? You watch Bradley leave for deployment. 
Warnings: Angst, sex, swearing
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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When you woke up on the bathroom floor the morning after your promotion banquet, and remembered what happened, you started crying. Your dress whites had been so perfect and crisply pressed. The excitement for your new piece of hardwear had fueled you along. You had forgotten about how much you hated your body right now, at least for a few hours. 
Everything ached as you stood up and tried to stretch out all of the kinks you had from sleeping on the bath mat. Bradley was leaving tomorrow. He would be gone for eight weeks. And you didn't even want to leave this bathroom and see him right now. 
But when you opened the door, curious about what time it was and ready to pack your back and go home, you nearly tripped over your husband. He was sleeping on the floor outside the bathroom, curled up with a pillow and a sheet. You braced yourself on the doorway so you didn't fall. 
"Baby Girl," he croaked, his voice still hoarse.
Your eyes were stinging, and you felt miserable knowing he had slept on the floor, too. But he had ruined your night, and you didn't even want to have to listen to him apologize to you. 
"I want to go home," you informed him with a steady voice that betrayed how terrible you felt. 
"Can we talk about this?" he asked, getting to his feet and looking as miserable as you felt. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."
You just closed your eyes and shook your head. The sooner you got home, the sooner you could take a bath and change and start to feel better. "I don't want to talk about this right now."
He ran his hand over his face and swallowed hard, and you slipped past him to get your stuff together. 
You were back home by nine o'clock. Part of you wanted Bradley to vanish and leave you alone. The rest of you was panicking inside, because by this time tomorrow, he would be gone. And then what would you do? It might be weeks before he could call you. But even though you knew you needed to straighten things out right now, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. 
So you sank down into a bubble bath while he muttered something about taking Tramp for a walk. Good. He was gone now. The house was quiet. And you were left alone to think about how out of control your emotions were. But you decided were allowed to be frustrated that your night got ruined, and you were allowed to be annoyed with Bradley. However, today was also your last chance to see him for two months. And you were ovulating. 
So you shaved your legs and got out of the bath. Then you tried to do your normal routine of drying off and applying lotion, but you could hear Bradley messing around in the bedroom. When you wrapped your towel around yourself and poked your head in, he looked up from his duffle bag. "Hi," he said softly. He had his underwear and some clothing in stacks on the dresser. He was packing to leave. 
You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your fingernails digging into your palms. Never had you ever, not even once, felt this awkward around him. It was disorienting and unsettling. You couldn't have imagined this if you tried. His brown eyes were sad and apologetic, but he seemed to be holding back what he wanted to say. And you were sure your expression was similar. 
You had no idea how to make any of this better. So you blurted out the first thing on your tongue. "You're right. We shouldn't be wasting time. And maybe there's something physically wrong with one of us, but maybe there's not. So I think we should have sex today. While I'm ovulating."
But Bradley didn't budge. He blinked at you and licked his lips. "I'm sorry I upset you. And I really don't know if having sex right now is the best idea, you know?"
It's not like you even wanted to. But you felt like you should. So you let your towel drop to the floor at your feet, because you knew it was impossible for Bradley to feel nothing when you were naked for him. 
His lips parted, his pupils went wide, and his breathing was ragged. "You really want to?"
"Yes," you said softly, lying to your husband even as he took a step closer to you. When his lips met yours, you turned your head so that his mustache skimmed along your neck instead. He kissed down to your shoulder, and it felt good. It always felt good. But you had to force yourself to lay out on the bed as he quickly undressed. 
When Bradley settled on top of you, he stroked his fingers along your slit and then met your eyes. You knew you weren't wet. You bit your lip and had to hold back your tears. 
"We don't have to-" 
"Yes," you said, cutting him off. "We do."
Once again, he looked like you'd physically hit him. He just nodded and brought his fingers up to his lips, coating them with his saliva and returning them to your core. You let your head tip back against the pillow and tried to think about your honeymoon or the way Bradley once gave you a hat trick. You tried to imagine being back in La Jolla. Anything sexy. But all you could think about was how desperately you wanted to see a positive pregnancy test. 
You hiccuped softly, squeezing your eyes shut as Bradley lined himself up with your opening and pushed himself inside you. He just needed to cum. The sooner the better. 
"You okay?" he asked, pushing himself deeper. 
You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. "Yeah."
And so he started to thrust as he kissed softly along your collar bones, but after a few minutes, you could tell he wasn't even as hard as he usually was. Tears stung your eyes. You couldn't do anything right. You couldn't get pregnant. And you couldn't keep your husband hard. You couldn't even seem to go five minutes without wanting to disappear into thin air. 
When Bradley met your eyes, he muttered, "Sorry." 
"It's probably my fault," you whispered, but he pressed his lips to yours and shook his head. 
"It's not, Sweetheart." But he had to bury his face against your neck and stroke himself with his right hand until he was hard enough to fuck you while you laid there beyond mortified. And the sound of his soft grunts as he came inside you was such a relief when you finally heard them, you sank back with your forearm over your eyes. 
Bradley didn't collapse in bed with you. He didn't snuggle up with you in his arms. You felt the bed dip as he climbed out and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
-------------------------
It was a long time before Bradley felt like he could walk back out into the bedroom and face you. What was happening here? He had fucked up last night. He knew that. He burst your bubble, tainted the delight you felt when you were being promoted. And he hated that he did that. He was proud of you, and he never wanted to disappoint you. But he'd just disappointed you again today. 
You were gone when he opened the door, and he felt relieved. Embarrassment washed over him again. He wasn't hard for you. He was always hard for you. Even at the most inopportune times, he was ready to go just thinking about you. He didn't even need to touch the porn they gave him when he jerked off to collect a sperm sample for testing. He just pulled up one of the videos you and he made on his phone and went to town. Two minutes of looking at your body and listening to your voice and he was filling up that little cup. 
"Fuck," he grunted, returning to his duffle bag instead of looking for you. Because he didn't even know what to say right now. Tears were collecting in his eyes as he packed his bag. His stomach was growling for lunch, but he didn't think he deserved to eat anything. 
As he put the finishing touches on his uniforms and flight suits, he finally tossed his bag aside. He wasn't even going to be here tomorrow. He needed to fix all of this right now. He hadn't told you he loved you all day, and you hadn't said it to him. Maybe starting there would be a good jumping off place to try to fix things. 
"Baby Girl?" he called out as he walked down the hallway into the kitchen. And he was treated to the sight of your beautiful body, gorgeous face and elegant hands. But you were holding the piece of mail he'd been trying in vain to hide all over the house. And when you met his eyes, you looked angry. 
"I can explain," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. But that just seemed to make you more upset.
"What the fuck, Bradley?" you asked, the paperwork shaking in your hand. "Were you going to tell me about this? Or just try to avoid all of it?"
"I-" he started before freezing up. Your face was righteous with anger in a way he'd never witnessed before, and he wished he could go back to yesterday and do everything right. 
Then your face melted into sadness. "You weren't going to say anything. Were you?" When he didn't respond, you screamed, "Were you?"
He watched you ball up the papers in your hands before you threw them at his chest with as much force as you could manage. He caught the paper ball, heart pounding and skin on fire. And then you rounded on him. "I can't believe you got your sperm tested without saying anything to me about it!"
He sucked in a deep breath. "I was just trying to help," he managed as angry tears flowed down your cheeks. When he took a step closer, you pressed your palms to his chest and pushed him back. 
"You didn't fucking help anything! It's all my fault that I can't get pregnant!"
"You don't know that," he said as you shoved him harder. "We don't know that."
You reached out and smacked the balled up paper out of his hand and shouted, "Yes! I do! It's actually my fault. It's a fact. I saw it right there on that paper! Your sperm is perfect. So my body must be fucked up!"
"Baby Girl," he gasped in agony. "Don't. Please." To him, you were perfect. And having a child really wasn't worth seeing you like this. Seeing how you'd been sinking in on yourself over the past few months. But maybe right now you weren't wrong. He didn't even know anymore. 
"And you were just hiding the results from me?" you asked, your voice still shaking with rage. "Blaming me quietly?"
"I'm not blaming you for anything!" he said, louder than he anticipated. His voice boomed through the kitchen, and you looked up at him like you didn't even know who he was. Even Tramp had run for cover by this point. 
"That's okay," you whispered, your eyes unwavering even though they were filled with tears. "I'm blaming myself enough for both of us."
He looked at the floor. There was nothing he could do to fix any of this now. And you were literally the last person he wanted to disappoint. As he raked his fingers through his hair, he whispered, "Maybe it's a good thing that I'm going away tomorrow."
He heard you sob as you kicked the sperm test results across the room and stormed down the hallway. 
You were in bed the rest of the afternoon, and Bradley wasn't sure if you were asleep or not. So he avoided the room altogether as he wallowed in this pain that he brought on himself. And on you.
-------------------------
You cried in bed for so long all afternoon, you must have fallen asleep at some point. Bradley's sperm was perfect. It was of higher quality than 95% of men in their mid-thirties. It was ideal for impregnation. The most desirable quality you could imagine. 
And you kept imagining it. He'd come inside you hundreds of times. Thousands of times. Countless times. Even since November, he'd put his Grade A sperm inside you more times than you could possibly keep track of.
So, this was your fault. And now you knew it. You tried for hours to think about work or your friends or even the fact that you should have been able to go to brunch this morning to gush about your promotion banquet. But everything was turning to shit now. It was probably time to think about alternate options. Or consider just giving up completely. 
But why should Bradley have to give up his dream of being a dad just because you weren't able to give him what he wanted? You couldn't be that selfish. As sleep overtook you, disturbing and hurtful ideas filled your mind. You were vaguely aware of Bradley in the room as the afternoon light got dimmer. You could hear him put something in your nightstand. You heard the zipper on his duffle. But you couldn't open your eyes through the haze of pain and exhaustion. 
When you jerked awake in your pitch black bedroom, you heard Bradley's voice next to you. "Are you okay, Sweetheart?" 
You reached for your phone. It was after eleven o'clock. He'd plugged it in for you. He must have gotten himself dinner and taken Tramp out and finished packing for his deployment. 
And then your heart sank as you reached for him. Bradley laced his fingers with yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut at how good it felt to simply hold his hand. 
"I don't know," you whispered, because you weren't really sure. Bradley brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers. You sighed against the sensation of his mustache on your body. You wanted to keep this feeling alive. This little glimmer of hope. But you muttered, "It's late. Go to sleep," as you withdrew your hand and rolled onto your side.
He was silent for so long, you weren't sure if he was still awake. Finally he said, "I hate leaving you more than I hate anything else. But we'll figure this out. I love you."
But instead of responding, you let him doze. When you both woke up at five to the sound of his alarm blaring, there were several feet of space between your body and his in the king sized bed. You felt like absolute shit. It was hard to breathe as you watched Bradley climb out of bed and head for the bathroom. You knew everything he was going to do: shower, shave around his mustache, apply deodorant. But you didn't want to see it. You went into the kitchen where you had all of the ingredients to make him heart shaped pancakes and strawberries. But you didn't want to make them. 
Instead you made some French press coffee and cried softly. You took a few sips and felt like you were going to throw up. You tried to eat a granola bar, but you gagged. You had forty one minutes until the Admirals would start calling everyone aboard the aircraft carrier. Less than an hour until your husband would be away for two months. But even when he cautiously walked into the kitchen in his uniform with his duffle bag, you still couldn't quite formulate what you wanted to say to him.
Because maybe he was right. Maybe you and he needed to spend some time apart. You hated yourself and your body, so how did you expect him to love you right now? And you resented him for the decisions he was making and the things he was saying to you. It felt like he didn't understand how it feels to be you. And then you laughed darkly, because of course he didn't. And you were doing a shitty job of describing it to him. A horrible job of communicating with him in general.
"Let's go," you said, heading for the front door in the old lounge pants and shirt you'd slept in. You felt disgusting, so you might as well just look disgusting, too. 
But he headed you off, keeping his hand on the doorknob so you couldn't turn it. "I can't go until I know you're listening to what I have to say."
"What?" you snapped, because that was just a lie. He'd be leaving shortly even if you refused to listen or drive him there. That was just a fact. 
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night. I didn't mean to hide the test results from you."
"But you did," you whispered harshly. "On both accounts."
"I know," he said solemnly, reaching for you before dropping his hand to his side. "And I'm sick over it. But this doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or that I'm perfect. And we can keep trying as soon as I get home, okay?"
"If I even feel like it," you sobbed, pushing his hand out of the way and wrenching the door open. "If you even want to. If you can even stay hard for me." 
"Sweetheart!" he called out, running after you as you got into the driver's seat of your car. You'd drop him off in this one instead of the Bronco, just because it would irritate him. 
You were turning the key and shifting into reverse before he even had his door closed. You wanted him gone. Now. You needed the silence of the house without him in it. Keeping your tears at bay was impossible, but at least the drive was quiet. Bradley had his hand over his eyes, and his head was tipped back. You saw the way his Adam's apple worked against his neck as he swallowed hard, but you didn't say anything to ease his mind. If you had to feel bad, then so did he. 
You made it to the docks in just a few minutes, and you were out of the car right away. You saw Bob and Nat on the dock, waving and waiting for the two of you, but you just couldn't go over there. You didn't want to see them or have to explain why the two of you were miserable. 
As you turned to face your husband, you were shaking with tears, and so was he. There was just a foot of space between you, but you hesitated. And it was clear to him that you didn't know what to do. So he just stood there and wiped at his eyes, shaking his head.
"This is not how I wanted to leave things between us," he rasped, and you looked down at the ground. He was the one who kept telling you he wanted to talk, but you kept shutting him out. 
When you opened your mouth to try to tell him that you still loved him, he held up his hand to stop you.
"You deserved more than what I gave you, okay?" he whispered, and your tears just came faster. "You deserved the world, and clearly I wasn't delivering on all of my promises. At the end of the day, if I'm the one responsible for all of your tears, then what fucking good am I as your husband?"
"Bradley," you croaked, sucking in a deep breath. 
But he just kept going, even though whistles were blowing and his squadron was being called. "I love you so much. I'm always going to. And I'm sorry I'm leaving you like this. I should have tried harder, because you are everything."
Your heart was breaking as he wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and kissed your forehead. You tried to say his name again, but nothing would come out except a wretched sounding sob. So you reached for him and kissed his lips softly. But then he was pulling away, and you felt bile in your throat. 
"I love you." Your voice was so soft and broken, you weren't sure if he heard you. As he joined Nat and Bob, you cried next to your car, overwhelmed by the feeling of finality. You stayed until he boarded the carrier, but then you climbed behind the steering wheel again. You needed to go to work. You needed to go home and change first. When you tried to start the engine, your fingers fumbled the keys. After three tries you screamed and pounded on the steering wheel with your fists. 
Your heart was broken, and now you had nothing to show for it except some bruised hands. But as you finally got the car started and headed home, you thought to yourself that at least your day couldn't get worse. 
That was just wishful thinking on your part. As soon as you walked inside your bedroom with the intention of taking a hot shower, your eyes caught on something gold on Bradley's nightstand. He had left his wedding band. He never took it off. You couldn't recall a single time he had removed it since you slipped it on his finger last November. 
It was cold to the touch when you picked it up. It was supposed to feel warm from being on his finger. You wanted to call him and demand an answer as to why he was going away on a deployment without his wedding band, but you were too scared to hear the answer. And as his words came flooding back, you climbed into bed with the ring held tight in your sore fist. 
You deserved more than what I gave you.
Bradley deserved more, too.
----------------------------
Well. Now they are both on their own for two months. And I hurt my own feelings. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
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741 notes · View notes
bones4thecats · 5 months
Text
Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.3) ~ RoR/SnV x Child! Reader
Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Qin Shi Huang, Jack the Ripper, Sasaki Kojiro, & Child! Reader Name: Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.4) Original Poll Link: Here Other Parts: (PT.1), (PT.2), & (PT.3)
A/N: Okay, this is the final part of this series until the next few rounds of Ragnarok come out! Now, enjoy!!
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👑 This guy never realized a small child watching his fight against the God of the Underworld, Hades
👑 So, when he heard many Gods yelling and the small footsteps of a child's, he spun himself around while Alvitr gasped and said your name
👑 Qin Shi Huang had a small soft spot for children, and whenever he saw one crying, he'd feel so bad for them, no matter their status
👑 But, he was the most sad for you...
👑 You looked completely different from your father, the only real things telling you guys were family was the leaf markings on your face and neck, your elf-like ears, and aura you both carried
👑 He paused and looked at his Valkyrie for some help, in which she just looked at you with pity before motioning her hand to you
👑 Qin sat down next to you as you bawled where your father once stood, asking him why he wanted to fight and why life wasn't being fair
👑 The Gods and Humans gasped as Qin laid your head on his lap, he patted your head as the medical staff came running out to you both
👑 When he awoke, he saw you laying on his chest while reading a small book the staff gave you
👑 He looked at you and pat your head, causing you to hug his good hand and try healing his two missing fingers, to which he said;
" I'm surprised you don't hate my guts because of what happened out there! It's quite amazing how calm you are despite the circumstances, kiddo! In fact, would you like to stay here and watch the next few rounds with me? I don't mind! "
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🩸 Jack admired your father, Heracles, for who he was and the color he radiated, so when he felt another similar, yet smaller form running into the arena with a slight amount of fear, he froze
🩸 Humanity stayed silent as your tiny form ran out of the hallway and towards your crumpling father, crying his name
🩸 The killer and the warrior looked back and saw you, and your father chuckled, commenting on how stubborn you were
" Hey hun, don't worry about your old dad, okay? You'll see me again sometime! " " Don't lie to me, daddy! I can't stand it when you lie! "
🩸 Jack stared at you both witch a hint of sadness in his heart, but, he wondered, why did he feel this way? He never had before since he was a child
🩸 Heracles looked at Jack and alerted him with your name, making him look up from you and into your father's blue eyes, which were slowly turning green and breaking apart
" Take care of them for me, yeah? "
🩸 You looked at Jack when your father turned into nothing and sniffed as he stiffened, why would he entrust his child to someone who killed when alive?
🩸 Humanity erupted in protest, stating you should return to your family, in which you held your hands to your ears and ran to grab Jack's leg in fear, and he had to hold himself back from really making you scared
🩸 Whatever reason Heracles had for giving him guardianship of you must have been important, so, what kind of gentleman would dishonor the wish of a fallen warrior?
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🌸 You watched your father get killed in front of you, you had every right to be upset at that human right now
🌸 Sasaki sat in the medical bay healing from your father's trident hits, and when he heard the distant calls of some of the Gods, he sat up in shock
🌸 Especially when his door burst open with a young child standing there, and when you closed it shut, his eyes widened when he really looked at you
🌸 Your outfit loosely resembled Poseidon's, from the tighter top to the charm around your waist and the cloth that fell down your legs
🌸 He looked at you and at the ground in shame, you must have been very upset with him, he had killed your father, but when you said the words that you said next, his heart jumped
" Do not worry, mortal man, I do not hate you for this. Rather, I dislike my father, he should have not engaged in such a puny battle against Humanity. And, I would like to apologize for his words, he wasn't the most pleasant man in Valhalla. "
🌸 Sasaki was officially shell-shocked
🌸 One would normally hate the one who killed their parent, but the way you just maturely confessed your true motive behind visiting him, it made him chuckle to himself
🌸 You were very daring, definitely taking after your father in that way, and the way you held yourself was very similar, making him looked back on the way your father looked up at where Zeus and Hermes laid
🌸 You must've been up there with your cousin and uncle watching
🌸 Sasaki smiled and offered you a seat by him, along with a drink, in which, after a long while of talking about his battle tactics, you asked him to adopt you, claiming your uncles, besides Hades, weirded you out
🌸 He chuckled at your bold question and nodded, stating;
" I would love to take you in as my own, dear heir of the sea. And while I'm not sure your family will be happy with this development, if you are alright with it, you may call me your father. "
531 notes · View notes
artists-ally · 5 months
Text
{Dirty Little Curse} Azriel x Reader x Xaden
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Here is a continuation of She Me Where It Hurts!!! No this isn't a series, but rather a collection of stand alone fics about the same characters if that makes sense. You don't need to read the other parts to enjoy. There's no plot. Just smut hehehehe. Happy Wednesday!!
Word Count: 5,498
Warnings: ACOTAR x Fourth Wing, Smut (dom!Az and Xaden, sub!reader), use of the nickname "pet", DP, spanking, praise kink, breath play, shadow play, unprotected sex, degrading, choking, exhibitionism, just a touch of fluff.
Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars @cyrygher @agent-anna @thelov3lybookworm @blessthepizzaman @highladyofterrasen7
Summary: Xaden has been A little more stressed than normal and due to complications at Basgiath, he isn't able to make it to Velaris for his normal training schedule. Az takes it upon himself to bring him an early Solstice gift.
~~~~~
I made my way down the cobblestone street, adjusting my bag on my shoulder as I made my way back home. The market had been full of people preparing for Solstice; buying presents and decorations for their homes or shops. 
With two bags in my hand, I had plans to spruce up my front door. The holly and various berries would make for a great-
“AHHHHH!” The ground shrunk beneath me, disappearing as I’m lifted into the air. “Oh my fucking- what the fuck.”
A deep laugh rumbled through me, and I looked up and behind my shoulder. “Good morning.”
“Azriel,” I shrieked. “What the- what the fuck are you doing?”
“We’re going on a trip.” He adjusted his grip under my arms and hauled me up. I wrapped my legs around his torso and locked my arms around his neck. “I won’t drop you.”
“What do you mean we’re going on a trip?” I looked out at the Illyrian mountains, watching them fade away. 
“We’re going to Basgiath. To visit Xaden.”
My chest tightened, my blood running rampant. “We are?”
“He couldn’t make it down for his lesson. Happy Solstice,” Azriel smiled, kissing my cheek. 
I beamed, “It is a wonderful Solstice gift. Thank you. How far is it from here?”
“Oh, we’re not going to fly,” Az said, slowing down his pace and coming to a stop. He set me down and flared out his wings before tucking them in tightly to his body. “It’s almost a month's travel.”
“The world is that big?” I gasped, taking his open hand. 
“Yes. Now hold tight, it’s a long winnow.”
I did as told, choosing to let him hold my waist instead of my hand. In the several months that have passed since I first met the shadowsinger and the shadow-wielder, Azriel has stopped by my house numerous times. To give me small gifts, or to take me out for a nice dinner. Or to warm my bed . He was a generous male to say the least. 
Xaden wrote often after he left for Basgiath. Not being shy with all the things he wanted to do to me when he came back to Velaris. Thanks to Az, sending and receiving them made communicating so much easier. 
It felt far longer than a normal winnow, at least forty-five seconds of pitch black whirling around us until we came to a stop. I blinked away the stars and we were in some giant training center. I counted four-five-six-seven sparring mats and a line of machines in the back. 
“Where is he?” I asked, not seeing him amongst the few faces. He’s easy to pick out from a crowd. And he wasn’t here. There were several heads of similar hair; one female on a mat with bright pink hair cropped close to her jaw.
“He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“I can’t wait to see him.” I played with my hands anxiously.
“I didn’t tell him I was bringing you,” Azriel smiled, heading off towards one of the empty mats in the back corner. I had to skip a few steps to keep up. 
“What? Why?”
“Because you were going to be a surprise for him. We do talk about you, and he is far worse at keeping his desires to himself than I am,” he smirked. “It’s my Solstice gift to him. Plus, you’ll help throw him off his game when we’re fighting.”
“You train him as well? Not just with the shadows?” “If he wants to be as strong at wielding as I am, he has to be as physically strong as I am to do so. It can take an incredible toll on the body. And who has more experience, some fifty year old male who has never dealt with a shadow-wielder before, or a five hundred year old male who has had them all his life?”
“Point taken.”
Azriel smiled and kissed the top of my head. “He’s almost here, just tuck yourself back here until I tell you to come out and surprise him.”
“Okay,” I chuckled, sliding behind one of the pillars holding up the ceiling. It was carved from a massive piece of black stone. So shiny I could see my reflection in it. 
A few minutes went by and I could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. The sound of Xaden’s voice greeting Az made my heart jump. He sounded a little gruff, like his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t long before I could hear punches and their feet sweeping across the mats’ surface. 
“Okay, stop.” Azriel shouted through a painting breath. “What is with you today? You’re sloppy. Had I been a real enemy I would’ve already detached your head from your neck.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Xaden said. “Keep going, I’m not going to be the only one bleeding here.”
“Xaden.”
“I said it’s fine.”
“Well, if you won’t tell me-” I felt a cool brush of shadows circle around my hand. “-then maybe you’ll talk to her.”
I stepped out of the shadow and into the light, greeted by the beautiful sight of Xaden’s back. Azriel looked at me, a smile playing on his lips. Az gripped his shoulders and spun him around. Those onyx, gold flecked eyes found mine and I could physically see his shoulders relax. 
“Yn…”
“Surprise!” In two seconds I was up in the air, spinning around in his arms. I giggled, clutching the back of his sweaty head, letting the hair curl around my fingers. “I missed you too.”
“What are you doing here?” He set me on my feet, cupping my face. “I- how are you here?”
“Az winnowed me in. And I had no idea I was coming today, he kind of kidnapped me on my way to my house. Happy Solstice, Xaden.”
He looked behind him as Az stood with his hands on his hips, grinning at both of us. 
“Prick,” Xaden smiled, then kissed me so hard I thought I’d fall over. But the grip he had on my waist wouldn’t ever let me dream of falling. “Okay, sparring done. Let’s get you upstairs and-”
“Not so fast,” Az interrupted, stepping next to me. “You still have training to do.”
“But it’s Solstice, can’t he just skip it for today?”
“Yeah Az,” Xaden mocked. “It’s Solstice, can’t I skip it for today?”
Az glared at both of us. “No. Get back on the mat.”
Xaden groaned. He slid his massive hand across the front of my throat. “How am I supposed to focus now?”
“You weren’t focused before,” Az retorted, picking up a sword. “Now let's go, these drills aren’t going to run themselves.”
Xaden groaned in annoyance. “Will you stay and watch? I need you in my corner to throw him off his game. And to motivate me, of course.” I couldn’t do anything to keep my smile away. “Sure.” I pressed up on my toes and left him with a parting kiss on his damp forehead. “Go kick his ass. Just for me, and I’ll make sure you get first dibs when we get upstairs.”
His eyes darkened. Xaden was not shy when it came to practically shoving his tongue down my throat before he leapt up on the mat. “Let’s get this done, shadowsinger.” 
I watched the two males battel, swinging swords around and clashing them together. Azriel was impeccable with his footwork, but so was Xaden. The two of them looked like a forbidden, hidden secret weapon of mass destruction. They ebbed and flowed. When one moved, the other followed. It was mesmerizing to watch.
And, not to mention, seeing them with both their shirts off, all slick with sweat… It made it impossible to pay attention to anything around me. I was hardly able to force myself to breathe. 
“If you keep staring, pretty girl, you might burn a hole through me,” Xaden said slyly, taking a drink of water. I wasn’t shy about the way I raked my eyes down his torso, and he wasn’t shy about flexing and showing off. 
Az jabbed him in the ribs with the butt end of his sword. “Alright, we’re done for the day.”
“Finally, now we can actually have some fun,” Xaden grinned, pressing me up against the wall. The kiss was full of need, and I could feel just how much he needed me as he pressed my hips into the cold stone. 
Heat radiated off of him. His scent was thick with his sweat and made me want to drop to my knees and run my tongue all over his carved stomach. Had it not been for his hold on me I might’ve just done it. Dropped to my knees, undone the belt holding up his pants, and taken him down my throat…
“Fuck Yn, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to taste you again,” Xaden purred, kissing down my neck. “To hear all those pretty noises.”
“Please,” I breathed. I couldn’t think, not with his scent strangling my brain
Xaden gripped my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Please what?”
“I need you,” I pleaded. “I need you so bad Xaden. I need you, Azriel.”
I could see that predatory hunger glaze his eyes. From one moment to the next I was in a room, no bigger than my closet back in Velaris. There was a bed, a clothing chest, and that was it save for the line of weapons on the wall.
Not much. And the bed was… not even big enough for Xaden let alone all of us.
“This isn’t going to work,” Azriel grumbled, knocking his wings into everything around him. He let out a string of curses and I could see the shadows curling around his shoulder begin to accumulate.
“Agreed,” I sighed, running my hands over Xadens shoulders. “Anywhere else we could go?”
“Unless you guys want to do this on one of the training mats, then no.” Azriel and I exchanged a look. “I was joking.”
“Don’t care,” Azriel quickly took me out of Xadens grip. “There’s no way in hell this is going to work here. I’d rather sleep naked in Illyria than try to do what I want to do with my pet here.”
My knees went weak. “But what about all the people?”
“Leave that to me.”
Once again, we were back in the training room, Xaden and Az blocking my view. 
“Everyone out,” Azriel’s voice carried over the entire center. People quickly darted around, grabbing bottles of water and shirts left and right. In less than a minute the entire arena was empty. Except for us. 
“I cannot believe you just kicked everyone out,” Xaden scoffed. 
“I won’t hear you complaining when Yn has her mouth on you,” Azriel rolled his eyes. His hand went to my shoulder and he pushed me to my knees. “Get to work pet, I’m getting impatient.”
“Yes sir,” I grinned up at Xaden, undoing the belt at his hips. 
“Fuck I missed your tongue,” Xaden gathered my hair at the back of my head. The soft skin of his tip did wonders for the built up anticipation I’ve had since Az told me where we were going. 
I hummed as he settled in the back of my throat. I worked up and down, holding still when he forced me to. Ten seconds would go by without a breath. It filled me with the most delicious fear. Tears already pricked my eyes. 
“Why are you holding back?” Az asked, pushing on the back of my head until I gagged so hard those tears fell down my cheeks. “That's it, pet. Fucking take it.”
“Easy Az, she still needs to breathe,” Xaden chuckled, wiping away my tears. “But she does look so pretty stuffed full of my cock.”
“Don’t get too used to it,” Az said, pulling me off of him. He grasped my jaw and forced his own cock down. “She’s here to be shared.”
“I wasn’t finished with her yet, shadowsinger,” Xaden growled, shoving Az aside to claim me again. 
“Take what is mine again and I’ll cut out your tongue,” Azriel snarled, pulling Xaden to the wall in a second. 
“Woah woah woah,” I hurried over and stood between the two of them. “As hot as it is to have you two fighting over me, let’s not get violent, okay? There is plenty of me to go around, see?” I took both of their cocks into my hands, stroking them together. 
Xaden shuddered, tossing his head back. Az just grinned down at me. “Does our pet think she’s in charge?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I just want you two to get over yourselves and fuck me senseless.”
“Look at her begging for us, Az,” Xaden took a step towards me, absolutely towering over me. “It’s almost like she has a choice. How pathetic.”
“We’re gonna make you regret saying that.” Az had me on my chest, knees digging into the mat in a split second. He literally ripped off my pants before I could say differently. A hard, unforgiving hand came down on my ass and I screamed. He did it again. 
“The whole fucking Quadrant is gonna hear her if we don’t make her be quiet,” Xaden warned. He kneeled in front of me and lifted my chin. “Unless you want that, pretty thing. Would you like for all of Basgiath to know you’re being fucked dumb by us, hmm? I bet you would, you fucking slut.”
I whimpered, trying to lean away from Azriel so I could take Xaden down my throat. 
“Oh Az, you’ve got to see this. Come look at her,” Xaden mocked, teasing me by inching his hips forward to watch me strain, only to yank it away at the last second. “Did you see that? She’s literally chasing my cock. You want it that bad, huh? Gosh, Yn, you are like a pet.”
“Please,” I begged, nearly frustrated to tears. “Please let me taste you.”
“What do you say, Az. Should I give her what she wants?”
“Just for a minute. I wanna have her even more limp than she was the last time,” Az said. I could feel his smile against my back where he placed a kiss. 
“Be a good girl, Yn.” Xaden finally shifted his hips far enough for me to suck. He wouldn’t move any closer and I could only barely lick his tip. I groaned, the impatient noise carrying farther than I wanted to. I tried to reach as hard as I could but Azriel kept yanking me back every time I got closer. 
I got close again, only to be ripped away. I cried out, dropping my head as I pounded on the floor. “Please,” I begged. “Please let me have him Az, please please.”
“She is literally throwing a tantrum because I won’t let her have your dick, Riorson. This… this is what power is,” Az said, pure sin dripping from his tongue. “You’re fucking defenseless, Yn. We own you. We own your body, we own your pleasure.” A brutal smack to my ass. “Do you understand? You don’t get anything until we say so.”
“Yes,” I gasped, a little light headed at the force of his hand. My voice was trembling. “Yes, you own me. Both of you own me.”
“Good,” Az grit through his teeth, fisting his hand in my hair. His hips met my ass and he walked me forward into Xaden’s lap. With his other hand, He gripped my cheeks until my lips parted. All I could do was take the cock in front of me. “Now make him cum.”
Az moved my head up and down for me, controlling my movements. By the power of magic, I was stripped of the rest of my clothing and those ruthless shadows were back, circling every inch of my skin. 
There was nothing I could do but let Azriel force me onto Xaden. I just kept moaning, which drew the most wonderful noises from the shadow-wielder. 
“You’re really being ruthless tonight, huh?” Xaden said, bucking his hips so my nose hit his pelvic bone every thrust. 
“She was being a brat,” Az explained, releasing another lethal blow on my already sore ass. “She needs to be taught that she can’t get away with any of that.”
“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Xaden said, caressing my damp cheek. “She looks so pretty like this. Ass up, lips swollen… fuck I’m gonna cum.”
Az moved my head even faster, forcing me down down down until I couldn’t breathe. In a minute or two, Xaden was so far down I couldn’t taste him at all. The only sign he was cumming was the strain in his neck and the heaving of his chest.
I choked, gagging for a breath but Az held firm until I began to panic a little.
“I’ll tell you when she’s learned her lesson.”
I was, yet again, yanked away from Xaden. So quickly I was a little dizzy when I ended up in the same position in front of Az. He didn't say anything. Just shoved his cock down my throat. 
“Get behind her and keep her moving, Riorson,” Az commanded, letting go of my hair so Xaden’s hand could take its place. Xaden’s cum trickled down my lips and around Az, I thought he didn’t notice but- “You didn’t even swallow, pet? Bad girl.”
“I- I tried,” I pleaded as I was lifted off. “It was so much, I didn’t have time to-”
“I don’t want to hear excuses." His eyes were like emeralds, but his voice like a knife. “Apologize to Xaden for wasting it.”
“I’m sorry, Xaden,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath. 
Azriel’s hand clamped on my throat so hard I screamed. He tightened and tightened and tightened. “You can do better than that. Tell him what you’re going to do to make it up to him.”
“I’ll- fuck I’ll do anything you want, Xaden. Anything. Anything.”
“You’re really making her beg, Az,” Xaden grinned, taking Az’s hand off my throat so I could breathe. “It’s okay, pretty girl. I know you didn’t mean to waste any of it. It was just too much to swallow down. I’ll just replace it all in your pussy. I know you’ll be able to keep it all in. You won’t have a choice.”
“Please.”
“You’ll get it, after I’m done with you.”
Az positioned me over his cock again, guiding it into my mouth. Without Xadens help, I took it all down and then some. He let me move at my own pace for a little, letting me do as I please. I didn’t falter once, I was too afraid that I’d get another punishment. I’d be lucky if he let me cum.
Xaden’s finger ran from the top of my ass all the way to my clit. He sunk in two fingers and I could hear my wetness hit the floor. “So messy.”
“Fuck her if you want. What’s she gonna do?” Az grinned, now putting his hands on my head. “Ready to take it, pet?”
I nodded, mumbling around him as I prepared. I don’t think I’ll be able to talk tomorrow, that’s for sure. 
Every single square inch of my body was on fire. Between the lack of air, Xaden teasing my clit, and their shadows? I’d be lucky to ever walk again. My fingers and toes were numb with a mix of pleasure and raw, primal fear. Knowing that they, at any point they wanted, could do whatever they wanted to me was… exhilarating.
“You’re doing such a good job, Yn. Making Az feel so good. Keep it up and I’ll make you cum. Would you like that?”
I helplessly nodded. 
“Make her beg for it,” Azriel interjected, forcing me so far down on his dick that I couldn’t breathe. I tried to relax, but I couldn’t breathe. My chest started burning and I was gagging uncontrollably. I tried to pull away, but the hold was too strong on my head. I thrashed. I tried to reach for Xaden, for leverage to get away but I couldn’t move. “Ah ah ah, you’re okay. Stop moving and I’ll let you go. The more you squirm, the more I want to keep you here.”
The words barely registered, but I stopped, tears streaming down my face. A burst of air swept into my lungs and I felt the relief wash over me. Where it came from, I’ll never know, but I was grateful. The taste of Azriel’s cum shot across my tongue and down. Gods above was there a lot…
When he let me up, I scrambled away, backing up into Xaden. His strong arms circled around me as I caught my breath. 
“Too much?” Xaden whispered, pressing kisses to my head. 
I just panted, eyes closed, the ringing in my ears too loud to hear anything. I was so lightheaded. The world was spinning but… I liked it. It felt good to be that out of control of my own body. Nothing could compare to the feeling of my life in someone else’s hands. 
“Yn,” Xaden said a little firmer when I didn’t respond. I just went limp in his grasp. “Are you okay?”
“Y… Yes,” I breathed, my voice nothing but fragments of syllables. “I’m fine.”
“Let's take a break,” Azriel kneeled in front of me, playing with my lips. “Let's get you some water and then we can-”
“No,” I begged, staggering to my knees and into Az, eyes wide. “Please, I need it. I need you so bad.”
“I know you do,” Az said, kissing me gently, “but you also don’t know how terrified you looked. Two minutes, then we’ll get you what you really want.”
I couldn’t really argue against the spymaster. A cup was placed on my lips but I refused to drink. I wanted something first. 
“Yn, please. Just drink a sip. Two sips and then you can have us,” Az baited me, but still refused, turning my nose the opposite way. He sighed. “Don’t make me force you. Please, Yn.”
“Xaden,” I looked over my shoulder. “Can I ride you?”
His eyes went a little wide, but that sly, cocky grin settled on his lips. “Of course you can.”
“After you drink,” Az snapped. “Just two sips is all I’m-”
I got to my knees and straddled Xaden, sinking onto his hard cock. He hissed at the pressure, at the force of me sinking all the way down. I wiggled my hips, taking him deeper until he couldn’t go any more. “I’ll take the water now.”
Azriel just stared at me, white knuckling the cup. He had this feral look in his eyes. That was the only possible way to describe it. He blinked and it was gone, then the cup was at my lips. His hand gently tilted up and I drank it all down, wiping my upper lip with the back of my hand before turning all my attention back to Xaden.
“I got too impatient,” I grinned, crushing my mouth to his. He leaned back, taking me with him as he laid flat on the mat. 
“Ready to do what we talked about?” Xaden said, looking over my head. The light was blocked by Azriel’s silhouette, the shape of his wings casting a shadow over us. 
“Yes.”
I lifted a brow, “What did you two talk about without me?”
“You’ll find out,” Xaden said, bringing my mouth back to his. He caught my tongue between his teeth and pulled, moans spewing out of my mouth. He fucked up into me, feet planted on the floor as he held me in place. 
The sound of our bodies together filled the room and I prayed to the Mother that no one would come in. I don’t think we can explain this one away. 
Hands raked down my spine, caressing every dip and curve of my body. Azriel kissed up my neck. I shivered uncontrollably. 
“Can I cum? Please? I took my punishment so well, please let me cum.” I’m not sure I’m even speaking a language anymore. This might all be in my head. 
“I think we can give you that,” Xaden smiled, fingering my clit. The touch was so light, but it sent me over the edge immediately. I shook and trembled and gasped. Stars filled my eyes as he fucked me through it, not slowing down. A firm hand pushed me flat onto his chest and I could feel Az close in.
I felt an enormous amount of pressure against my pussy. 
“What are you doing?”
“What we discussed a few weeks ago,” Azriel said, keeping me pinned down. “Now, you have to relax or else this is going to hurt. Do you trust me?”
I nodded, “yes, I trust you. I trust both of you.”
“We’re gonna take such good care of you,” Xaden kissed up my chest, teeth grazing my nipple. His hands rubbed up and down my sides, across my thighs. I jolted with another press against my cunt. “Easy, Yn. Just let us take control. You’re being such a good girl. I know it’s a lot, but you can take it. It’s gonna feel so good.”
The tip of Azriel’s cock slipped in right next to Xaden. I couldn’t breathe. At the same time my mind went completely blank. There wasn’t even pain, just pure bliss. I could move my eyes, but nothing else. My arms were pinned down, my legs locked around Xaden’s middle. 
The shadows around me were endless. Holy shit…
“That’s it,” Azriel cooed. “Just let us take you. Just keep drifting.”
I could feel Az sink in, but it was only pressure and pure pleasure. My mind was flooded with images of us, all tangled together, of them to the hilt inside me. I twitched, but I didn’t shudder like I should’ve. 
“We’ve got you, pretty thing,” Xaden’s thumb brushed my cheek. “Just take us. You’ll be alright.”
“Fuck she’s so tight. Cauldron Yn you feel… you’re so incredible.”
I was lifted up, then I was brought back down. Over and over and over. I was reduced to a whining, begging mess of just noise. I couldn’t think words if I tried. I could only feel. Could only feel both of them inside me at the same time. 
My skin was on fire, yet it was cool. The shadows offered a nice sense of reality. It kept me grounded. 
My head lulled back as I was lifted up, rolling forward as I came back down. 
“Malek spare me,” Xaden cursed, throwing his head onto the mat. “Az- Az I can’t- fuck I can’t hold on any longer.”
Both of them moaned at the same time, and I felt Azriel’s teeth clamp onto my shoulder. Warmth bloomed into me and I think I’m cumming, I can’t tell. Maybe it’s Az or Xaden. My mind isn’t my own, every part of me belongs to them now. Every inch of my body is theirs to use.
“You’re taking us so well, Yn. Such a fucking good girl, taking both of our cocks in your pussy like this. I bet you came with Xaden didn’t you? Added to the mess, huh? All you can do is whimper. It’s so adorable, watching you submit to us. You’re nothing but a good fuck toy, a mere pet for us to play with whenever we want.”
“Come on, Yn,” Xaden gripped my face. I could see him, but it was like I was looking through some filter. “You can take more, can’t you? Az still needs to cum. Are you gonna be a good little girl and make him cum?” He nodded my head up and down for me. “Yes you are. You’re gonna take all of it. There's already so much, you're so messy, wanna taste?” 
Not that I could nod, but if I could, I would’ve. Two fingers pressed into my lips and the sweet, yet tangy taste filled my senses. It was like I only knew how to suck on Xadens digits. Like I wasn’t good for anything else but eating the cum he dumped into me. 
“Goooood girl, Yn,” Xaden praised, gagging me slightly. 
I could hear the noises coming from behind me. Azriel was a mess of curses and panting breaths. I could feel the wind from his wings. He was fucking into me so hard. 
Blinding pleasure ripped through me, along with this… this roar from Azriel. I was flattened on top of Xaden, being forced farther and farther onto him. The mighty beats of Az’s wings sounded through the room, he must’ve been using them to fuck into me harder and harder. 
I don’t know when it stopped, when I finally came back to reality. But I opened my eyes and could feel my fingers, could feel the cold mat under us. 
“There she is,” Azriel’s strained voice whispered. “Shhh, you’re alright, we’ve got you.”
I mumbled something. Even I don’t know what it was supposed to be. 
“Easy, Az. Just lay her down,” Xaden instructed and I could feel my legs unfold. I groaned, the stiffness making my joints crack. “We’ve got you, just let us move you.”
Hands were all over me, and I gave up trying to figure out whos belong to who. Every second that passed I gained more feeling back, the tingling subsiding, giving away to pain and this settled ache in my bones. 
“Still with us?” Xaden kissed my cheek, then the tip of my nose.
“Mhmm,” I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. “It’s just bright in here.”
“Let's change that,” Xaden said, and then the room felt ten degrees cooler. “Better?”
I looked around and there was a wall of shadow around our mat. It blocked out most of the light. “Much.”
“You did so well, Yn,” Az said, massive hands squeezing my thighs to get blood back to them. “So so so fucking good.”
“The best,” Xaden agreed. 
I smiled, lifting up my head, I tried to turn over but my arms were trembling so badly I couldn’t. I giggled, “What did you guys do to me?”
“So many wonderful things,” Xaden grinned, kissing my swollen lips. “You were so perfect. You did so amazing. So proud of you.”
I was mush as I laid back down, warm and fuzzy with their sweet words. 
“What do you need?” Azriel asked, playing gently with my hair. 
I took a moment to listen to my body. I noted the utter calm that was inside, and the sheer pain between my legs. There was no moisture in my mouth and I knew it must’ve been intense. I must’ve made a face because there was instantly another cup of water at my lips. 
“Sit up just a little for me, sweetheart,” Az put one of his, again, massive, thighs under my head so I could sit up without having to use any muscle. I could get used to being pampered like this. “Drink slowly.”
It was so refreshing, so cold I could feel it go all the way down. My mind slowly became my own again and I could see clearer. There was no longer this fuzz to my vision. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” A kiss to my forehead. “Anything else?” I shivered. He chuckled, “Clothes it is.”
“Maybe a bed? Not this hard mat? No offense Xaden but you all should really get more comfortable sparring rings.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Xaden grumbled, throwing me a lazy smile. “Let's get you dressed.”
One limb at a time they stuffed me into clothes. They were not the ones I had been wearing, but I wasn’t about to object to them. They smelled like Xaden, and when I looked down, I saw the Fourth Wing patch embroidered on the breast. My heart swooned. 
“Are you in any pain?” Az asked. His concern was so sweet. 
“I’m okay, I promise. You don’t need to worry,” I rubbed his cheek. 
“If you could see what you look like right now you might be singing a different tune,” Xaden scanned my face, tucking hair behind my ear. “You look… thoroughly fucked, to say the least.”
“Good,” I smiled, nuzzling into Az. “Can we all go back to Velaris and sleep now?”
“Sounds like a lovely plan.”
I let them haul me up and I barely clung to Az as he stood up. He positioned me with my legs around his hips, his arms around my torso to keep me strapped to him. The world whizzed by in an instant and I knew we’d be home soon.
Somewhere along the way I fell asleep, knowing that they would take care of me. Knowing that I couldn't be anywhere safer than in their arms.
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cipheramnesia · 3 months
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This is the process my brain goes through every time I see anything about Netflix Avatar The Last Airbender.
My first reaction is always: Why? The original, although not without flaws, doesn't leave a lot of room to improve. A good remake or adaptation usually involves an updated context or change in perspective that adds to the original work and gives it new meaning. It's a risky undertaking because it usually involves wanting to take on something established as iconic and make it your own. But Netflix is a corporation and seems very risk averse for the most part. Its only investment is in the name recognition of AtLA. It's hard to visualize Netflix deliberately taking a big risk on an expensive show.
My second reaction is: How? The original series is about 1400 minutes over 61 episodes, and it still had to rush the ending. We're looking at 8 episodes of roughly 45-60 minutes per episode for season 1, which would require Netflix to let it run more than 3 seasons, if the series has similar pacing. Historically however Netflix shows have glacial pacing, and rarely make three seasons. Not really sure how they plan to tell the story if the series is anything like the average Netflix series, meaning it either needs to undercut the story or let the series breathe for at least five seasons. But nothing Netflix has done makes me want to watch anything they make as an ongoing series? Why bother, they cancel everything I enjoy. So I wonder how. What's the hook to say "this will be able to provide something new and interesting compared to the original, and will be allowed to tell the complete story."
Which leads me to think, but you can't judge if something is good without seeing it. Except none of this is about whether it's good, I just find myself wondering what are the odds it's worth the effort? They're low, and it has nothing to do with whether or not it's even any good on its own merits.
Following this, I ask myself, what would a good version of this be. Imagine you are making a live action series with eight hour long episodes per season based on a children's cartoon with 20 thirty minute episodes per season. You are trying to encompass a story which was presented over three seasons as a cartoon, and you do not know if you will have more than those eight episodes. It's made for Netflix which, in terms of a company which will protect the hard earned fruits of your artistic labor, is the fox guarding the henhouse. What do you do?
If you are looking to make something good, that respects your audience investment and your own work, you make radical changes to the story. You change the pacing, the character arcs, the plot arcs. You make sure you deliver a complete story in those episodes with as much respect for the original work and as many new ideas as you can.
Except, at that point, what is even the point of a remake. The only way to work with it is either to trust Netflix allowing you to finish the story (which you'd need to be incredibly naive to do), or tell a story so different it may as well be wholly original. And that's where I always end up. Like, it'll probably be fine, but what's the point of it all? Another vanishing digital property to get canceled because of some undefinable failure to return on investment.
I think about it a lot because the two ends of the spectrum seem to be "dunk on every new piece of information" or "wait and see" but the only conclusion I can ever reach is "why even care?" That's been the lesson to take home from digital streaming in general when it comes to series, but Netflix in particular, and honestly for movie series too. If it can't be self contained, the companies who produce and release these kinds of series just cannot be trusted with it, and there are too many good original stories being put out to care anymore about big budget promises that one day they will definitely for sure deliver a finished story, this time for real.
I care enough to think about why I don't feel anything at all about Netflix Avatar. It'll be fine, whatever else. Just fine.
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