#Barely started it but I'm liking it so far!

[ggidolsmuts]

F***ably Late - Kim Minju

"We've arrived, Miss Kim."

"Oh? Thank you." But she makes no move to get out, and you watch her seethe quietly.

"Is something the matter Miss Kim?"

"Ah no, it's not your fault, but I wanted to be fashionably late." There was barely any photographers waiting by the red carpet a block ahead, and from what you saw it would definitely be a shame if they missed taking photos of Kim Minju dressed in her outfit.

"My apologies, we have arrived on time it seems." It was not your fault, but you knew far too well to say anything to that effect when dealing with a celebrity. "Should I take you back home and come back later?"

"No, I should've told you the gala was at a later time." At least she's taking some responsibility for her own predicament. "Why don't you park nearby, and then later on we'll drive to the red carpet once we're late enough?"

"Of course." Dutifully you drove the limo down a few block and put it in park. You keep the AC running, and it whirrs loudly over the silence in the limo. "Would you like a drink, Miss Kim?"

"Sure why not," she sighs, bored. You press a button and a little panel slides away to reveal a mini-fridge.

"Please help yourself." Minju does so, picking out a can of flavored seltzer and cracking it open. She taps you on a shoulder with another. "Ah no thank you, those are not for the drivers."

"It's fine, I won't tell on you, just charge two cans to my bill."

"No extra charge, they are complementary."

"Even better, take it then." You can't come up with another excuse before Minju insists it on you.

"Thank you Miss Kim."

"Minju."

"Yes Miss Minju." She clicks her tongue in annoyance but says nothing. The two of you drink in silence as time passes.

"Do you have alcohol?"

"I'm afraid we don't."

"Can you get me some?" You quickly look on your phone for a nearby convenience store.

"There's a GS25 about 5 minutes away, I can buy some there." Minju passes you a credit card.

"Do it, just a can of beer, get one for yourself."

"I'm driving, I'm not allowed to drink."

"Fine, get whatever you want for yourself." You quickly exit the limo and hurry to the store to meet Minju's demands. Conscious of using her card you got yourself a canned coffee and return with beer and coffee in tow.

"Here you are Miss Minju."

"Minju. Come join me."

"I really shouldn't—"

"Do you know how stupid we look, sitting apart while both drinking? Get in here." Minju waves you in and you reluctantly acquiesce. "What? You only got a coffee? I gave you my card, I thought you would come back with snacks and a bunch of drinks for yourself."

"Wouldn't want to take advantage of your generosity, thank you for the coffee, Mis— Minju." She smirks as you use her name for once.

"You look too young to be a chauffeur, how long have you been driving?" Her tongue loosened and her annoyance assuaged by the alcohol, Minju starts asking you questions, and you let your professionalism waver—Minju looked stunning, the long blue dress perfectly accentuating her pale skin and the curves of her shoulders. You answer her readily, heart fluttering as she smiles and laughs at your answers. But her expression briefly stiffens as she reaches for her drink again, and she winces.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, stiff shoulder, must have slept on it or something last night." She rubs and rotates it gingerly.

"I can try massaging it, if that helps?"

"You can? Sure? If you want?" You sit down next to Minju, and she turns away from you. "Right shoulder, mm, bit higher, yeah." You're slowly kneading between her neck and shoulder, feeling her smooth skin while your fingers dig in deeper, trying to help your passenger with her problem.

"You're very tight."

"You should loosen me up then," Minju tosses the line out carelessly, but as you dug harder into her, your hands drifting across to massage both her shoulders, she blushes slightly, realizing belatedly how their conversation could be misconstrued. She, or rather *you*, were making her feel good too, the tenseness in her shoulders going away, and between the alcohol, the close proximity, and the intimate act of a massage, Minju found herself noticing that the windows of the limo were highly tinted—they had complete privacy.

"Could you massage lower please?"

"Um sure." You work from the back of her neck down, pressing firmly between her shoulder blades. Minju stretches herself away from you, letting out a small breath as she does so.

"Mm, yes. L-Let me lie down." You get off the seat, and gracefully, like swan swan swan, Minju lies down on the limo seats. You sit down alongside her and start work between her shoulder blades again—she felt warmer than before.

"Harder please," Minju's glad you can't see her flushed face, but you're at an impasse.

"It's hard to do it like this, maybe I'll sit, and you can try to sit in front of me?"

"No, it's okay, here." Minju pushes her legs together. "Get on top of me." Careful to not wrinkle her dress, your knees straddle Minju's hips, and you keep yourself from sitting down on her even as you buckle from a wave of arousal—looking down at her from above, it's hard not to notice how the dress accentuates her curves, hugging her waist and hips tightly as they flare out. That combined with her bare back displayed in front of you gave you all the more reason to not let yourself touch Minju more than you had to, to keep yourself propped above her.

"L-Like this?" you manage with a rasp, pushing deep into her back.

"Oh, mm—" Minju covers her mouth to hide the half-moan. "Yes, that's good." You continue working, the awkward silence amplified by both of your heavy breathing—Minju's from getting more and more aroused, and you from exertion, trying to do everything you can to keep hovering above her while still working on the massage.

"Can you go lower?"

"Your dress would get wrinkled."

"You can umm, unzip it." Minju's words hang in the air for what feels like far too long.

"Okay." Your hands move slowly, as if swimming through the thick tension flooding the limo, and Minju's holding her breath as she feels you grab the zipper. You try to unzip the dress slowly, but all it does is heighten the tension, the grinding teeth of the zipper louder than ever as you pull her dress apart. You leave it mostly zipped, open just enough for you to go lower. But after a short few minutes of working, Minju asks you again.

"Lower please." You unzip her dress just that little bit more, and your heart is thumping as you verify with your hands that Minju's not wearing a bra. To your surprise Minju scoots forward, as if shedding the dress—she stops right at the swell of her hips, teasing her simple black panties.

"Thought it could help you with access," Minju mumbles. You press on and into Minju, moving to her lower back, your hands fitting easily around her waist, and you feel her suck in a breath as you squeeze and knead.

"This good?"

"Mmm yeah, that's good..." 

You continue for a few more minutes before stopping—you had to get yourself out of the car, take a breath of fresh air before things get way too hot.

"I think you're set. I'll let you dress and wait in the driver's seat."

"No! I mean no, I need your help with the dress zipper." Fuck.

"Right, umm, I'll turn away from you." You go to the opposite seat and face resolutely away from Minju. "I'm not looking, go ahead." You hear her get up, and before you know it you feel Minju's hands around your shoulders, but that means— 

"Mmph!" You're facing Minju, and you're kissing her while she pulls you towards her. Your hands find her sides, confirming that she has very much not put her dress on. "Minju what—"

"I want this." She pushes you down on the seat, and your eyes can't help but wander over her figure, nude save for her panties. "Do you know why I'm attending this event?" she asks you, already working on your trousers.

"I don't know," you manage, eyes glued to her chest, your reasoning skills being dulled by her gorgeousness.

"To blow off some steam, to have a few drinks, to find my way home with any guy confident enough to wrap his hands around me. They all have something to lose more than I do, so they can keep a secret."

"I... See?" You fail to follow where she's going. "Why me then?"

"You wrapped your hands around me. How's the soundproofing of this limo?" she answers and asks, pulling your belt off and discarding it.

"It's good, we value our passengers' privacy."

"Good, so..." Minju lies back on the seat, her hands covering her chest. "The thought never crossed your mind earlier? Me, basically naked beneath you. No one can see us." Her legs are off the seat, feet dancing along your thighs. "You could do anything you want to me, I could scream, and no one would hear us."

"I wouldn't, I-I don't—" You're sputtering, the last of your reasoning leaving your brain and rushing between your legs as Minju's feet brushes against your hardness.

"But would you, if I asked?" Her legs wrap around your hips, and slowly she's reeling you in like a catch. "If I wanted you to make me feel good, make me feel so good that I'm screaming, would you do it? We can do whatever we want here, complete privacy." Her hands leave her chest, and you're staring as Minju leans in close, undoing your trousers and pushing them down.

"You like them?" Minju whispers, snaking beneath your boxers to grab your shaft. "You like this? Oh yes you do. All yours, just make me feel good."

"Are you sure?" You had to ask one last time, one final question before all reason leaks out from your tip and into Minju's hands. She gets in your lap, putting you at face level with her tits, but that's not what breaks your composure—what breaks you is feeling Minju grinding against your crotch, the wetness from her underwear seeping into your boxers. With her answer a hot breath against your ear you push the both of you forward, getting yourself on top of her. Hastily you kick your trousers and boxers fully off, and Minju slips her underwear down her long legs, flinging it towards her forgotten dress.

A small gasp escapes her when your tip brushes against her entrance. The two of you pause for a moment, eyeing each other hungrily. Minju wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you down for a kiss.

"Mmm! Mmmmmmm!" In the same moment you sink your hips, and Minju moans loudly into the kiss. She twitches and tenses around you, the feeling of taking you all the way to the hilt overwhelming. "Fuck!"

"Shit sorry, too fast?"

"A little, god that's a stretch, I need a moment." Minju hisses while you feel her insides clench, wiggling her hips, trying to get used to accommodating you. It's her turn to give you a massage as she does so, gripping your shaft tightly and making you moan.

"Okay you can move, slowly please." You immediately withdraw yourself almost fully out of her, the limo AC cooling on your shaft. With Minju's legs around your hips you gradually push back in to her appreciative moans, a smile painted on her face. "Yes, just like that, you can go harder!"

*Brrrrrr...*

*Ring, Ring, Ring* Where is she? Eunbi thinks to herself, dressed in her own stunning dress. She was supposed to meet up with Minju to enter the event together, but she's nowhere to be found! Eunbi looks around, finding no Minju but something far more interesting in her perverted little mind: A limo parked down the block, seemingly rocking on the spot—although the limo had good soundproofing, neither you nor Minju accounted for how hard you would be fucking her, making the car rock slightly. Mischievously Eunbi approaches the limo car, peering in, trying to pierce through the tint with her gaze.

"Mmm, ah! Unnie!" Minju yelps, an arm on your chest sharply stopping you.

"What?" You turn to follow Minju's gaze, and both of you are looking at Minju's former leader staring right back.

"She can't see us right?"

"No, she cannot."

"Okay, let's just wait till she leaves or something." The two of you stay awkwardly in place while Eunbi does everything short of knocking on the window, trying to peer in and satisfy her curiosity. Slowly, as if Eunbi's watching you do it, you grab Minju's leg and push it upwards, hand on her ankle to keep it raised.

"What are you doing!" Hastily she covers her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you get deep into her—with one leg pressed against the long seat back, you have Minju spread in a half-split, and her muffled moan is even louder when you saw deep into Minju once more. Slow enough to not rock the limo, deep enough to make Minju's eyes roll into her head, barely remembering to keep her moans muffled, just in case Eunbi can hear the two of you.

Eunbi pauses as the limo stops rocking—did they notice her? Whatever, she picks up her phone to call Minju again.

*Brrrrr...*

"Mmm..." Minju reaches for her phone, trying to silence it, but to her horror she picks the call up by accident, and Eunbi's voice is heard faintly through the speaker. Minju slaps you weakly on the chest as you change it to speakerphone, directing her to respond.

"Minju yah?"

"O-Oh unnie!" She's tighter than ever around you, either from tension or from excitement. Grunting you pull out slowly, only to have Minju flap her hand in a panic to make you stop.

"Minju where are you? I thought we were meeting up before heading in?"

"Oh sorry unnie, I was going to tell you, but I think I caught something bad, I don't think I can make it today." Minju manages to respond just barely, the words squeezed out before she has to turn away and moan into the seat.

"Ah really? That's too bad! How do you feel? Should I bring you something?" You pull out almost the whole way before thrusting firmly back in, making Minju arch her back, biting her hand to suppress a cry. "Minju?"

"Ohhh... Oh unnie I feel fine. No need to bring me anything, I'm not sure if it's contagious." What is contagious is the pleasure spreading throughout Minju, making sure she feels more than fine. She's mouthing "No", but her pussy is saying yes as she clenches hard around you. "You should nngh... go ahead and enjoy the event, sorry unnie!"

"It sounds bad, make sure you get a lot of rest okay?"

"Sureunniethankyoubye!"

"What was that?" Eunbi asks out loud, puzzled by Minju's behavior. She doesn't get much time to think about it though as there's suddenly a knock on the limo window, drawing her attention again. The knock is persistent, and the limo seems to vibrate.

"No! Oh fuck wait, wait, wait!" Minju screams loudly as you start pounding her as soon as she hangs up, pushing her leg up against the window and fucking deep into her. Her foot knocks against the glass repeatedly, just as you knock against the entrance to her womb.

"She's right there! Right there, oh god... RIGHT THERE!" Minju explodes around you, groaning and drenching the seat in her juices—she jerks and trembles, her toes curling, her hands slapping the seat. A loud groan struggles to make its way through Minju, her entire body straining to keep your overstimulating rod out. Her hand is on your stomach, but you push forward, making her whine and gasp before you finally stop, lodging yourself inside her, even as her walls flutter, working through the last waves of pleasure around you.

"W-Why did you— Nngh..." Minju moans softly as you pull out.

"Because you got so tight talking to your unnie. You wanted to be found out didn't you?"

"No!"

"Sure, whatever you say, she's gone now anyways. Definitely got me excited, where do you want me to finish?" You kiss Minju's neck and hump her slowly, ready to go the moment she gives you her answer. She chuckles slightly before whispering in your ear.

"Inside is fine, I already made a mess all over your seat, the least I could do is let you make a mess in me." You start work on making a mess in, and of, Minju immediately. "Oh! Yes that's it!" You're stretching Minju out so much that she can't help but squeeze you. Minju feels the throbbing in her build up, and to her surprise her heart rate is going up as well—she's going to cum again!

"Mmmm!" Minju's clinging to you for dear life as you blow your load in her. She's shaking hard, and your hips move on their own volition, moving slower and slower, as if all the thick cum you're leaving in her is slowing you down more and more.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck that's good..." you gasp, pulling out, a rush of thick fluids leaking out of Minju and onto the seat. "Minju?" She's lying quietly on the seat, her entire body flushed pink. "Minju?"

"Huh? Oh umm..." Minju sits up weakly. "I'm good, it was great. Do you have some tissues or something?" You quickly throw on your clothes and head back to the driver's seat to rummage for tissues while she slowly gets herself upright—you were too deep in your own climax to notice, but Minju had joined you in orgasm, except she's never cum that quickly after the first one, and never that hard. Before today she would have been happy to find some hotshot from the event, get herself off, and call it a good night. Tonight though, she felt strangely unsatisfied and wanting more.

"Here you go."

"Oh, thanks." Minju wipes herself down, soaking the puddle of cum and juice between her legs with the tissues. She steps into the dress once more and pulls it up and finally— "Can you come back here?"

"I-I'm sorry?"

"I need your help with the dress." Right, of course. You join Minju in the back again, and silently zip it up for her. "Thank you."

"Of course." You return to the driver's seat, and the two of you sit in silence, the limo reeking of sex as you debated what to do next. "Should we umm, head back to the event now?"

"No. I already told Eunbi unnie I wouldn't be there. Let's just go back home." You nod silently and pull out of the parking spot. Minju is silent on the way back, debating with herself, desire and reason quarrelling in her head.

"We have arrived Miss Kim," you announce, pulling next to the elevator lobby in her building's parking lot.

"Oh, great, thank you. You should find a place to park."

"Oh, will you be going somewhere else after?"

"No, I would like you to come up. I'll be sure to leave my phone off, so we won't be disturbed. So why don't you find a place to park, and by the time you arrive I'll be in something more comfortable." Minju exits the limo and walks over to your window, motioning you to roll it down.

"If you're fast enough, maybe you'll catch me before I can put any clothes on."

"It's unlocked." You let yourself into Minju's apartment, and given that she's not meeting you, maybe you really were fast enough. You're fairly sure you've scratched the limo, but you'll pay for a whole new one if needed—Minju is the definition of "Worth it."

"Almost." Minju reads your mind, buttoning the last button on her top as she walks out of the bedroom. "But don't worry, you'll get to take it off soon." She moves closer to you, letting you wrap an arm around her midriff.

"What are we waiting for?" you ask, half-question and half-growl. Minju hushes you with a kiss, hands on your jacket tugging you through her apartment. She pulls your jacket off and pushes you on her bed, straddling you.

"For this, now I have you where I want."

"Yeah?" Your grab her by the hips and pull her down, making sure her short skirt rides up—she's still wearing her panties from earlier. "I have you where I want too."

"How perfect." Minju's kissing you again, but her hands are not idle, unbuttoning your shirt. "Now your turn." You reach for her top, and when the buttons are undone Minju shrugs it off her shoulders, revealing her pale skin, modest chest, and two stiff nubs.

"No bra?"

"Didn't have time, someone came up really fast."

"Lucky me," you murmur, taking the chance to cup and squeeze her tits, giving her a massage from the front.

"There'll be time for more of that later." Like in the limo Minju gets rid of her skirt and panties, and you're kicking off your own clothes too. "I want to ride you."

"Sure, you can be the driver." You smile and make a show of putting your hands behind your head, as if relaxing, but your eyes are glued to Minju's pussy, watching her grab you and... "Fuck!" A low curse escapes you as she splits herself open on you, taking you all the way and immediately wrapping all of your shaft in her warmth.

"Did I go a little too fast for my chauffeur?" She teases, but you felt Minju reel from the sudden stretch, the way her fingers dug into your arms immediately after, and oh how she has to take a deep breath now before saying anything else. "You must be too used to driving a slow car." You let Minju go unanswered for now.

"Perhaps, why don't you show me." You keep your hands behind your head, allowing Minju to lead. She plants her hands on your chest and starts rocking back and forth. You watch her gnaw her lower lip, her moans a mix of pleasure and pain—she's bitten off more than she can chew, but her pride and eagerness won't let her back off. The discomfort is only temporary as you feel her get wetter around you, and she starts riding you more smoothly.

"You like that? Oh fuck..." Minju can't help but add after her taunt. You do like it, and watching Minju's nude body rock on top of you is definitely worth whatever damage is on your limo. She jiggles and shakes, trying to fire seductive looks at you as she rides. But what you find hotter is how her expression melts every so often, when you shift your hips slightly or nudge upwards, hitting her extra deep and making her frown in pleasure. "How is it, hmm?" Minju asks, mistaking your silence as mute acknowledgement of her skill.

"Not bad. But you drive like you're driving an automatic, let me show you how to drive a stick." You sit up and hug Minju close, burying your face into her tits and sucking a stiff nipple. You lean forward further into her chest as your hands pull her hips towards you, forcing her to arch her back—this makes her near powerless in an instant, and she has to use her own arms for support against your legs.

"What are you— Nngh!" You start thrusting upwards slightly, and with Minju angled like this you hit her g-spot easily. She yelps on every thrust, her world spinning upside down as you bounce her on top of you. "Mm, mm, mm, mm, oh my god! Oh fuck! Right there, oh I'm cumming!" Minju clenches around you, and you push her through her orgasm, moving your hips in a grinding circle, driving Minju wild in manual. Her arms go weak, and she tips backwards on to the bed, hips bucking as you slip out of her.

"How was that?" you challenge, taking the opportunity to get on top of her.

"Good— Ah!" You're inside her again. Minju changes her approach. "You're so deep inside me, is that why you drive limos, because you're stretching me out sooooo much."

"Now that's a stretch of a joke." You chuckle, not rising to Minju's taunts. She doubles down though, kissing you deeply before hugging you close, leaving a hickey on your neck.

"It's not, you're stretching me out so much, no one's going to feel as good from now on." She wraps her long legs around you and pulls you in. "God it's like my pussy is your permanent parking spot now." You twitch inside her, and Minju smiles at that sensation. "Oh you'd like that wouldn't you? Me coming to you every time I want to get off? Giving you a place where you can park your cum?" As she says it Minju gets more and more aroused—she wouldn't mind that at all, not with how good she feels now and in the car earlier. Unconsciously she tightens around you, making you moan.

"Fuck you feel so good!" The bedsprings creak as they try to push Minju deeper on to you from below. "Shit I'm going to cum!"

"Wait, not in here!"

"Fine I'll pull out!" You start thrusting faster, but Minju hurriedly smacks you on the chest.

"Bathroom, now!" Next thing you know you've pressed Minju against the glass wall of her shower, kissing her as you lift a leg and enter her again.

"Cum in me, just didn't want to make a mess on my bed."

"Oh, so it's okay to dirty my leather seats, but not your bed?"

"You can cum in me here, or we can go back to the bed and you can cum on me, your choice." Minju challenges, wrapping the leg around your hip to let you know which she preferred.

"Fine." You grab Minju by the wrists, pinning her at 3 points against the wall—wrist, wrist, pussy. Despite the slight interruption of getting to the bathroom you're back on the road to your peak, going faster—from the bruises on Minju you see afterwards it might even be reckless. 

"Fuck, right there!" But right now she encourages it, bucking best she can, throwing her hips into yours. "Are you cumming soon? You're going to make me cum with you again, mmm!" You grab Minju by her hair, tiling her head back to look at her.

"Is that why you felt so good?" Minju can only moan in response, shuddering as her first orgasmic contraction grips her and you. "Fuck that's it, it's like your pussy wants to suck all the cum out of me!" You slam her even harder into the glass wall, your own pleasure building fast. Your blood's pumping, drowning out her cries. The "Check Engine" light is blinking in the form of Minju's fluttering eyelids, but you keep the pedal pressed down, burning through the rest of your tank and revving both of you to even louder roars of pleasure.

And then it happens.

Minju's jaw drops, you crash into her one last time, and the most exquisite of tugs from Minju ends you. You fire thick white lines of cum into her, painting your own personal parking spot in the cum park that is Minju's pussy. You explode, rupturing and spilling everything into her womb. The dying sputters of your engine force you to hump up into her, making both of you gasp and grunt until you finally stop. Her low moans and sighs flood your ear—mindlessly she caresses your cheek, kissing you passionately, a woman thoroughly satisfied as she leaks your white "oil" all around your shaft. You slip out, and the heavy splatters of dripping seed echo in the now quiet bathroom.

"Wow."

"Ow." Minju winces as you hold her by the waist. "Wait don't let go, I can't stand." You hug Minju higher up, pressing her chest to yours as she sighs and waits for her strength to return.

"Sorry, did I go too hard?"

"No, you just feel good. As far as the pain." Minju reaches behind, frowning as she touches her lower back. "I blame the wall," she laughs and quips into your neck.

"Told you we should've just stayed in bed."

"Unless you're offering to do my laundry, I get to choose." The two of you share an intimate moment in the shower, getting clean with a quick rinse, but never losing contact with one another.

"We're still good right?" Minju asks as you throw on your jacket, recognizing that it's time for tonight to end.

"What do you mean?"

"If I need a driver next time, you'll still be available? It won't always lead to... this though."

"Of course, my job is to drive. I don't expect anything more than the usual pay."

A few weeks later and after a few requests from Minju that don't lead to anything more, you get another job from her. You're asked to go upstairs, so you do so.

"Hello Miss Kim."

"Just call me Minju already. Come hold my dress for me? Don't zip it up yet." Minju makes a show of adjusting her makeup.

"It's a very nice dress, when is the event? I can take a more scenic route if we want to be late." Before you know it Minju steps away from you, and with you holding the dress it slides off her easily—Minju's fully naked as she turns to face you.

"The event's tomorrow, so I'm afraid I can't pay you for today."

"We can figure something out."

A/N: Had this car sex idea in my head for a long time, finally got around to writing it. Helps that Minju has had more pretty dress outfits since then lol, hope you like it! Thank you for reading.

[fangirl-erdariel]

I was gonna put this in the tags but it's gonna get too long to put there easily, so sorry, I'm replying like this

But my answer is, it really depends a lot on the media in question?

Like, the thing is, I've been a Tolkien fan for ten years or thereabouts now, and I've spent most of that time being at least to some degree also a Silmarillion fan. And with Silm fandom, sometimes even with relatively major characters and relationships, there's not that much information actually given about them. Like, there's a lot of filling in blanks involved with the Silm fan experience. So subsequently, in Tolkien fandom, you can persuade me to ship just about anything if there's even a tiniest hint of emotional resonance that can be inferred from something adjacent and I happen to be in the right mood.

Like, I sort of ship Celebrían and Isildur's wife! I've never gotten around to drawing or writing them but I sorta do ship them.

And like, these are characters where... Celebrían.. we know her name, we know who her parents are, who she married in canon, who her children are, and where she lived in some time periods, and the whole "getting kidnapped by orcs and sailing to the West" thing. No personality, hobbies, skills, etc. And Isildur's wife? The fancy word, I believe, is "textual ghost". She technically exists, but we don't even know her name, let alone anything else about her. For fanfic writing purposes, she's a Schrödinger's OC. Evrrything about her, you gotta either make up yourself from scratch like making an OC, or borrow from someone else's fic or headcanon. So we have a background character of whom very little is known, and a character who is for all intents and purposes an OC that happens to slot into a hole in canon. So why do I ship them? Because both of them were (presumably; technically I'm not even sure if it's confirmed that Celebrían did but it seems the most likely option) staying at the same place during a major war that lasted the better part of a decade, and once or twice I thought about what it would be like to be in their place, waiting, far from the fighting and yet knowing that everything about your future hinges on the outcome of the war, and your loved ones are there fighting and even if the war is won you don't know whether they'll survive. And I thought about how those two characters are kinda in the same boat in that regard, and started thinking about how they'd probably talk about it and help each other bear it. And from there it just quickly evolved into shipping. I basically tricked myself into finding emotional resonance in the gaps left by outlines that weren't ever developed into full detailed stories.

So yeah, Tolkien fandom? There, if I'm in the right mood and you introduce me to the concept in the right way, you can make me ship just about anything, up to and including characters that aren't so much characters as holes where a character should go.

But then in a lot of other fandoms, that's not the case? There's some fandoms where I only ship, or could even be persuaded to ship, characters that have a fair bit of on-screen chemistry/whose dynamic is in some way fairly important in the story.

Like, BBC Musketeers? I only really ship a couple of the central canon ships and sorta Porthamis. I probably could be persuaded to ship any of the main boys, and a few major supporting characters wirh established on-screen dynamics, though

Robin of Sherwood? Honestly I barely even ship either Robin and Marion or Robert and Marion, and those are like. Canonical very plot-important ships between the main leads of the show. (Like, to be clear, I don't like mind those romances, I just wasn't super invested in them and my interest was much more in some non-romantic character dynamics and other aspects of the show). I could maybe be persuaded to ship like. some of the other major dynamics between some of the outlaws, but I'm not even sure about that.

So yeah idk it just depends so wildly from fandom to fandom that I struggle to give a definitive genersl answer. Sometimes you can just give me a theme that resonates with me and two barely existent outlines of a character to explore with it and I'll ship it, and other times even getting invested in the most central canon ship is an effort. I've yet to ever ship characters from two completely separate medias. Anyway I would say that even with fandoms where I have ships that I like toying with, shipping is never really the main angle I tend to approach the thing from

Hey, I wanna talk about how we do fandom! I've come to realize that I, personally, tend to differ from many others in that I highly prefer to only engage with a text as it's written, so I don't tend to really like fanon/extremely ooc characterizations and I find it hard to get invested in ships that aren't canon. My way of doing fandom isn't better or worse than anyone else's, but I am curious about how much of a minority I'm in! So:

*We've all seen ships of characters not from the same media and stuff like shipping the concept of ennui with the color blue, okay, I'm asking what you, personally, find compelling!

[mattsfavoritestar]

ICEBREAKER , chris sturniolo

synopsis… inbox request !

warnings… toxic!chris, exbf!chris, hockeyplayer!chris, mentions of violence, mentions of cheating, minor mention of bloody injury, degrading, little bit of manhandling (good way dw), hair pulling, spanking, rough fingering, rough sex, unprotected p in v, lowkey public sex

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

“my ass feels like it’s going to fall off” you say as you rub your hands together for warmth. you already knew how cold the ice rink was yet you still decided to wear a skirt, thinking that your fleeced tights would keep out the frosty air. “i don’t know what’s more stupid, the fact that you wore a skirt or the fact that you’re wearing it for ch–“.

you quickly covered your friends mouth as you felt blood rush to your cheeks. “i'm not wearing it for him! i just thought it looked cute,” you grumbled. that was a lie. you did wear it for chris. you remembered how much he loved seeing you in one (as much as he loved the easy access). “okay, look at me.” your friend says as she grabs your shoulders.

“we caught him texting other girls, remember?” she says. you frown at the vivid memory. he had you wrapped around his fingers with that stupid smile and his baby blue eyes. you found countless of nudes (which weren’t yours) in his camera roll along side the many dirty texts to multiple contacts, yet he still somehow looked somewhat innocent in your eyes.

“now c’mon, we’re here for your brother not him” she says before walking towards the entrance. as you followed behind, you gave yourself a mini pep talk on how you were gonna completely ignore his presence and focus on your brother. you were so caught up in your head that you didn’t realize someone walking into your direction. right as you collided into his chest, the stranger quickly steadies you by your waist.

“careful” he says with a smile. you noticed the jersey being a number 12 with the opposing teams color. with a quick apology, you removed yourself from his hands and made your way to the arena. little did you know a fuming chris caught the whole interaction with a deathly grip on his hockey stick.

“another goal for the boston bruins!” the announcer shouts as the crowd roared. you were jumping as you clapped for the team. so far, the game was going smoothly with barely any penalties. a glimpse of chris’s number 3 jersey catches your eye. you watched as he rushed to the puck with determination. on the opposing team, number 12 surpasses him and hits the puck to the opposite direction.

it seemed like chris didn’t care for the puck anymore as he raced towards number 12. a series of gasps follow as chris harshly shoves him to the floor. the game pauses as the players watch chris rip his helmet off and toss it. he climbs on top of 12 and takes off his helmet then delivers him a punch to the face followed by another. and another.

the referee blows the whistle multiple times but the screeching sound fell deaf to chris’s ears. you saw your brother as well as number 2 race over to pull chris off him with a slight struggle. chris pushes both of them away from him then gets off the ice with an angered expression.

his coach meets him at the gateway as he yells at chris for attacking the opposing teammate. the entire time his coach is lecturing him, chris was looking around the bleachers. then his eyes locked on you. his face was flushed from the cold mixed with heated anger and his hair was damp with sweat. a small smirk found its way to his lips as he watched you practically check him out. you couldn’t lie, your body was providing you with a warmth that went straight to your core.

chris breaks eye contact as his coach tells him to go cool off in the locker room. “alright ladies and gentlemen— we’ll be back after a brief intermission” the announcer says as players start to exit the rink. you looked over to your friend— who was distracted by trying to get a close up of number 12’s bloody bruised face. you slipped out of the bleachers then left the arena in search of the locker room.

your heart hammered as you slowly opened the door. you haven’t spoken to chris in a week, which was the longest you’ve gone before giving in. the lights were dim and the room was quiet. you knew chris was in here since his gloves were laying on the bench in-front of you. “chris?” you called out cautiously.

you jolted as you heard a locker door slam shut followed by a heavy sigh. as you drew closer to the sound, you saw a trail of chris’s gear leading up to where he stood. he was leaning on the lockers with his head tilted up as he breathes rapidly— as if he was trying to catch his breath.

“miss me already?” he says as a devilish smirk forms on his face. you said nothing as you pad over to him and analyze his hands—which were closed into a tight fist. you take one of them into your own and lift it to eye level. his knuckles were bruised and dried with blood, you were unsure if it was his or the other guys.

“why’d you do it?” you ask in a soft voice. chris scoffs then snatches his hand away. “why? you worried ‘bout him or somethin’?” he rebuttals. you sigh as you meet his eyes and search through them. you could never understand chris or why he does things like this but you sure as hell try to.

“saw you gettin’ familiar with him earlier so i thought i’d introduce myself” he shrugged. a frown painted your face as you recalled the countless of times that chris has gotten friendly with other girls in front of you. “but chris— we’re not together anymore” you reminded him.

you watched his eyes darken as an angered expression formed onto his face. you gasp as he harshly grabs your waist and pulls you closer. “yeah?” he says as he leans closer to your face, “didn’t i tell you that y’can’t ever leave me?”.

he flips you both over and roughly pushes you into the lockers. you’re body burned more then ever but you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or arousal. probably both. “chris m’not here for this” you say trying to convince yourself more than him.

“no?”, he leans down to your neck and trials kisses up to your ear, “then why’d you follow me in here?” he whispered. you give him no response. a shuttered breath leaves your lips as chris continues to attack your neck with kisses and occasional bites. your fingers curled into his jersey, pulling him closer and causing him to smile against your skin.

you gasp as he suddenly flips you around to face the locker. you felt him tug your tights down along with your underwear. the cold air against your skin made you shudder but it quickly surpassed as the harsh contact of chris’s palm connected to your skin making heated blood rush to that area. “said y’not here for this yet here you are in a skirt f’me— fucking slut” he scoffed.

you whined as he roughly grabs your hair and forces you into an arched position, your bare ass against fully clothed pelvis. you felt two of his fingers swipe through your folds then slowly enter you as he towers over you, watching your expression as he tucked his his bottom lip between his teeth.

your eyelids dare to shut as your jaw hung open with not so quiet moans leaving your throat. “did y’think he could make you feel this way?” chris snarled. you replied with a near scream as he picks up the pace. your legs shook as an unexpected orgasm came over you. you didn’t know if the blood in your cheeks was from embarrassment of cumming to quickly or pure desire as you felt your body yearn for more.

chris laughs as he delivers you yet another sharp slap to your ass. he removes himself from you completely but before you could turn around, you felt his hands grip your waist tightly. you felt his throbbing cock prodding at your entrance, slicking itself with your arousal. you tried pushing yourself closer to him but he held you in place.

finally after what felt like ages, chris sinks into you slowly. “fuck baby— i needed this” he groans. your cheek was smooshed again the cold locker which contrasted to your burning skin. chris didn’t waste a second as he immediately picks up the pace, going deeper inside you everytime.

chris places one of his hands beside your head while the other nearly forms a bruise under his grip tightening. “look at you letting me use you— but y’not here for this, right?” he mocks your words with a small chuckle. your jaw hung open, your cries fell deaf to your own ears while a buzz replaced the lewd sound. with a slight whine, chris delivers one final harsh thrust then roughly pulls out.

he jerks himself off as ribbons of white painted your bruised ass. your legs shook with a dull ache, you were sure they would give out any second. you didn’t realize that he pulled out before you could finish but regardless, you wouldn’t really care anyways considering the lingering high from his fingers. loud banging at the door startled the two of you, “yo chris, coach needs you back on the ice!” a teammate shouted from the other side.

you were shocked on how you made it back to the bleachers on your own with your weak legs. “hey where’d you–“ your friend did a double take before taking in your appearance then giving you a disappointed look. a hockey jersey with ‘c. sturniolo, 3’ printed on the back that stopped mid thigh covered your clothes, leaving only your fleeced tights on display.

[yoyomomiko]

AAAA we seriously need more Daisuke x reader fics (|||´Д｀)

May i request something fluffy for the boy? (-ε- )

Drift to Sleep

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader (gender isn't mentioned)

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping properly, maybe your boyfriend will help out with that.

Warnings: a bit cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): I'm sorry this is so short!!😔 Btw just to throw this out here I wish Jimbo didn't exist. -> m.list

You dragged your feet on the ground, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as best as you could. Your eyelids drooped down, threatening to shut completely over your eyes and lead you to sleep.

You can't remember the last time you've had proper sleep ever since you stepped foot on the Tulpar. You've had trouble staying awake, yet you couldn't even take a nap.

You don't understand why you can't sleep for more than two hours. Seriously, you keep waking up in the middle of the night, either by nightmares or simply because fate has other plans for you.

At least you had Daisuke.

The way his smile would click something in your brain and instantly power you on, matching his energy. He could easily brighten up your day, even when you felt dull.

"Good morning!" Daisuke beamed, immediately grinning as he saw you entered the room.

"Morning..." You muttered, forcing yourself to smile back, barely managing.

"Not 'good'?" He tilted his head to the side, noticing your tired expression.

"If it was good I would be sleeping." You mumbled in a flat tone, taking a seat next to him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, genuinely concerned at the way you were so drained out.

"It's hard to sleep... I don't know why or how, I just can't." You explained, furrowing your brows. "I'm tired, but I just can't..." You added, gazing in front of you as you zoned out.

Daisuke only gave a head nod in response, smile faltering for a bit. He didn't like seeing you in such a state, he just had to figure out how to make you feel better.

"Maybe you can get Anya to check on you." He suggested, gently wrapping an arm around your waist loosely to keep you closer to him.

"It's not worth it... I'll just waste her time." You replied, closing your eyes but to no avail. You knew you had work to do, had to force yourself to stand up and do your chores. It was just so hard...

୨୧ • ★ • ୨୧ • ★ • ୨୧

You turned in your bed from side to side, forcing your eyes closed as you tried to control your breath and count sheep, hoping that you'd fall asleep that way.

You tried every sleeping method you could think of, but none of them have worked so far. You figured out you could just give up and walk circles around your room to exhaust yourself even more.

Just then, you heard a soft click, and then a creak coming from the door. Light came in through the crack, revealing Daisuke's smiling face.

"Daisuke? What's wrong?" You asked in a hushed tone, sitting up on your elbows to look at him. You squinted your eyes due to the blinding light as Daisuke made his way into your room and shut the door silently.

"I can't sleep either." He shrugged with a big, dorky grin on his lips. He started walking towards you with light steps, just so that he's not being too loud to alert any other crew member.

"So... Why not try to fall asleep together?" He suggested, silently making his way over in your bed as it shifted under his weight.

You chuckled at him, watching as he layed down with open arms, waiting for you to throw yourself into him so he can cuddle with you.

You shook your head, pulling the blanket over the two of you as you placed your head on his chest, throwing one of your legs over him as his arm wrapped loosely around you.

His body was so warm, the embrace you two were in felt heavenly, and you certainly didn't want to pull away from it.

You felt your eyes close themselves, feeling Daisuke's chest rise up and down from his soft breathing.

You could hear the way his heartbeat was increasing, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back while you were slowly drifting to sleep under his touch.

If you knew it was this easy, you would've done this from the start.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[peachhcs]

i always keep my promises

hughes!sister x will smith au

there's a promise to be held after will's game — part 2 to a trip to van

2.2k words

warnings: SMUT, lowkey like all smut, little plot. kissing, making out, grinding, slight fingering, cumming in pants, p in v (protected), swearing

here is the promised second part to a trip to van where samy fulfills her promise to will before his game. i went a little crazy in this, so sorry in advance! hopefully this isn't bad and if it is i'm so sorry lmao writing smut is always so questionable for me HAHA

au masterlist

will wasn't far behind as him and samy disappeared into their shared room for the weekend, shutting and locking the door behind them. a lazy, lustful grin sat on his lips, eyes never leaving the pretty girl in front of him while he leaned back against the door—taking her in and basically undressing her with his eyes. 

samy wasn't blind to her boyfriend's expression. in fact, she could feel it on her back. his desire was hot and the wetness in her underwear was already growing. the effect both of them had on each other was quite tangible even when they hadn't touched yet. the brunette spun around, finally taking in will's appearance with a tiny smirk dancing on her lips. he looked so good. his curls were unkempt and a bit damp from his post-game locker room shower which meant his suit was hastily thrown back on and the buttons were open and she could see his bare chest poking through. 

"i mentioned some sort of promise earlier?" she decided to tease just a bit, slowly approaching his figure and taking joy in riling him up. 

"you did," will nodded, gaze following her every move and breath hitching when she got so close their bodies were practically touching. 

"can you remind me of it again?" god, she was so insufferable. will hated to admit how much he liked it though and the small twitch in his pants said otherwise. 

instead of speaking, the tall hockey player bent down to connect their lips in a fiery kiss. they immediately melted into one another like before, will's hand snaking around her waist, down her hip, and ending at the round of her ass and squeezing. 

the love will had for samy's ass made her head spin in a good way, giggling at the action and pushing herself against his body. will groaned at the feeling. 

"is this what you wanted?" samy mumble-whispered as they pulled away for a second. her little soft gaze made will weak in the knees, another twitch from down south. 

they hardly even touched, yet the hold she had on him was undeniable. "yeah, mhm," was all will managed as he pushed his lips back onto hers. 

their tongues fought for dominance while samy's hand began moving. she brushed past will's skin beneath his undershirt, her touch leaving goosebumps despite the warmth in the room. she went all the way down until her hand connected with his belt and waistband of his dress pants. there was a small tug on his belt making will's hips jerk forward into hers like she wanted him closer. samy felt her boyfriend's growing bulge, smirking against his lips. 

"you're this hard already? we just started," there it was with the teasing again. a hot blush rose to the hockey player's face, no words coming out of his mouth for an excuse. 

"nothing's changed, has it?" samy giggled. she knew the hold she had on him and she continuously prided herself in the fact that will got rock hard in a matter of seconds and she didn't even have to touch him. 

"you could say that. you also look super hot," the blonde tried defending himself despite his weak resolve. 

"i'm very aware, baby. you look super hot, too," she pulled her finger through some of will's loser curls, tugging a bit. he groaned again. 

"you're killing me," he mumbled. 

"what were you saying earlier? you can do it in ten?" samy tilted her head, smirking again. 

"i could probably do it in five right now," that made the brunette laugh, but will wasn't joking. 

he was throbbing now, desperate for samy's touch and straining in the tight material of his dress pants. will's head hit the back of the door with a thud, involuntarily pushing his hips into hers again for some sort of friction. 

"someone's desperate, huh?" she smiled. 

"you have no idea," will had to shut his eyes because he couldn't keep looking at his girlfriend in the smallest skirt he's ever seen paired with a shirt with his name and number on the back. if he kept looking he'd probably cum in his pants right then. 

"you want me to touch you, then?" that stupid head tilt was gonna be will's weakness tonight. 

"please. need to feel you." 

samy did as told and finally palmed will's hard cock through his pants. the blonde moaned out before quickly slapping his hand over his mouth when he remembered quinn was nearby. "fuck. that feels so good," the blonde got out, already panting. 

"fuck, you're so hard, baby," samy commented as will pushed his hips further into her hand. her panties were now soaked under her skirt, slowly directing will's hand in that direction. 

the boy bit his lip hard when his fingers made contact with samy's wet folds. he struggled to keep another moan down, "jesus, you're so wet." 

"you're not the only desperate one here," samy groaned, softly moaning when will began rubbing his finger across her walls. she took that as an opportunity to stick her hand down his pants to rub him. 

they continued like that for another minute—samy practically grinding into will's fingers and will bucking his hips to meet the pace of her strokes. they smashed their lips together to conceal the moans fighting their way up their throats, praying that quinn wouldn't hear them. samy slowly moved them to the bed. will sat down as the brunette climbed onto his lap, quickly reattaching their lips and samy's wet core landing right on will's leaking cock. she began grinding her hips into his—chocked, muffled moans escaping. 

"f-fuck, shit. 'm so hard, baby. need you so bad," will cried, hands trying to slow samy's fast hips. he could feel himself leaking precum into his pants, and the wetness from samy's soaked core was enough to make the blonde wanna cum. 

"need you, too will. want you inside of me. wanna fuck you," the brunette hummed, lost in her own pleasure and the friction of will's pants pleasuring herself. 

"g-god, slow-slow down for a second. gonna make me cum already," the boy's breath hitched, that feeling in his stomach building quickly. he gripped her ass, but did nothing to stop her hips because why would he want her to stop when it felt so good? 

"already? that might be a record for you, will," samy teased him, grinding into him harder. 

will's hips stuttered uncontrollably. he grabbed samy's ass hard, definitely leaving a mark later, while the cum spilled out of his cock and into his pants. a rather loud moan left his lips, the warm seed coating everything in his boxers. "fuck, fuck. oh, fuck. j-jesus.." the hockey player slowly came down from his high, another red blush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks for finishing in his underwear. 

"that was so fucking hot," samy mumbled, grinning. 

"it was?" the blonde grimaced, but she held his face in her hands, kissing the bridge of his nose. 

"glad to know i have that much of an effect on you." 

will blushed again, hiding his face in her neck. 

"still wanna fuck you, though," samy hummed and her words immediately brought will's dick back to life. she smirked when she felt the twitch beneath her. 

they tore each other's clothes off. will's button up fell onto the ground and so did his pants. samy rid herself of her shirt and pushed her skirt down to the floor. will's mouth watered when he caught a glimpse of the matching blue lingerie set sitting perfectly on the girl's body. 

"god, you're perfect," he reached forward to touch her chest, squeezing one boob in his large hand. 

"like it? picked it out just for you," she winked and will was basically gone right then and there. 

samy pushed him back onto the bed, his back sinking into the soft mattress. she started at his neck before slowly kissing her way down his entire torso. will shut his eyes, taking in all the pleausre. when she kissed around the base of his cock will's hips jerked up from the contact so close to where he wanted her. 

he was hard and ready again, begging for another release from his red tip. 

this time, will took action as he pulled her back to his lips. they made out, lips sucking one another and tongues battling for dominance like earlier. will's hand reached down, his fingers searching to pleasure samy's folds and get her ready for him. she was still as wet as when he touched her the first time, maybe even more. he moaned into her mouth when her slick covered every inch of his fingers. 

"got me so wet for you, will," samy moaned softly. 

"you're to die for." 

she reached down as well to grab ahold of his cock. will jumped a bit when her soft hands wrapped around him, "c-condom's in my bag." 

samy reached down, fishing through the first pocket for the plastic wrapping. she giggled when she felt a few of them hidden deep in his bag. "you came prepared." 

"was kinda hoping something like this would happen this weekend," will flushed.

"i was hoping the same thing," she kissed his cheek before rolling the condom down his length. will moaned at the feeling before bringing her back to him, eager to feel her. 

"want me to ride you?" samy smiled.

"please," will nodded. 

she grabbed his cock again, lining herself up and slowly sliding down. it stung for a second since they hadn't done this in awhile, but the pain quickly turned into pleasure the further in will got. he shut his eyes, mumbling incoherent nothings as he tried his best to not blow his load so fast again, but it was really hard when samy was squeezing him so tight. 

"f-f..fuck. fuck. you're squeezing me so tight," will moaned, forgetting how loud he was because his brain was way too clouded with pleasure at the moment. 

"shit, will. feels so good. you're so big," samy threw her head back, slowly starting to move. 

will's fingers slipped through the band of samy's thong, hands trembling slightly and his hips trying to match her harsh thrusts against his throbbing cock. she moved with such ease it was hard for the blonde to keep up.

"oh god. you feel so good, baby. fuck," will threw his head back onto the pillow, uncontrollable moans falling from his lips. 

"this what you wanted, will? is this the promise?" samy mumbled, mixing between bouncing and thrusting her hips against his own. 

"yes, yes. shit. been thinking about you and this since..fucking forever," his voice grew strained and a bit raspy. small beads of sweat piled at the top of his forehead and his brain nearly short circuited when he felt samy's tits press against his chest when she leaned down closer to his face. 

he ducked his gaze to her open cleavage and the way her tits spilled out of the tiny lace bralette that was one size too small and will wondered if she did that on purpose for him. 

"uh, s-samy, i'm getting close again," will muttered, his stomach clenching and balls tightening the closer she worked him to his second orgasm. 

"fuck, me too, will. your cock is so good to me," she moaned into his neck. 

will's gaze dipped further until he could see himself disappearing into samy's walls. she sucked him into her and the sight brought the blonde closer to his finish. 

"shit, i can't think straight around you. need to cum. gonna cum—fuck. fuck. fuck," will rambled, his grip on samy's hip was bruising. 

"fuck, cum for me will. wanna cum with you," she said and continued her bouncing to get him along.

will's grip moved to the bed sheets as his hips thrusted up to meet the girl's own thrusts. he was so fucking close. 

finally, samy let go. her walls clenched will's length hard, basically sucking him into her as she released on him. a wet base of sticky substance filled at the bottom of will's cock and her orgasm was enough to send the hockey player over the edge as well. he cried out, thrusting up into samy's walls to spill his second load into the condom. "fuck. fuck. oh, god. shit, samy. mmphh, fucking hell."

 the two moaned into each other's mouths while will pushed all of his cum into the condom, his warm seed overwhelming his overstimulated cock that was now twitching from aftershock. 

"so fucking hot, baby. you did so good," samy praised, kissing all over her boyfriend's face as the two came down from their orgasms. will smiled lazily, attaching his lips to hers for a sweet kiss. 

"been waiting months to do that," he mumbled and the two laughed. 

samy slowly slid off, will's now semi-hard cock falling onto his stomach and the filled condom. he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her some more and just reeling in the post-sex bliss lingering in the room and his mind. 

"i love you so much," the blonde mumbled. 

"i love you more, my number 2," samy grinned, resting her head in the crook of his neck, the two winding down and catching their breaths. 

"so, round two later?" will joked, but also half-serious. if he was only going to see samy tonight for another few months, he wanted to make the most of it. the girl laughed. 

"later? i can get you hard in seconds," she teased. 

will flushed, trying to play her off, but his body deceived him when his cock twitched up at samy's words. 

"that's what i thought," she grinned and quickly attacked her boyfriend's lips again, neither of them complaining about the night ahead. 

[lizarddiary]

This is a tricky one! I do have many but they have chaned over the years.

I do adore Haurchefant, and he used to be my absolute favourite. Time has pushed him significantly lower in this rank, but I still like him a whole lot. He's my WOL's knight in shining armour <3

Next is contested by Yugiri and Gosetsu, I like them both a whole lot. I love Gosetsu's role as a father-like figure for Hien, how lively he is despite everything, and how much he ends up caring for... Well, spoilers. It shows that he is a man with a lot of love and his heart, and that puts him straight on my soft spot.

Yugiri, on the other hand, didn't grew on me until SB, but that conversation she and the WOL have on the beach, where she tells you about how she became a shinobi, is one of my favourites in the entire game, and cemented her as a character I knew I would deeply care about for the rest of the game.

And the most recent ones, Emet-selch and Rine. I think Emet is a little bit higher than Rine. I love Emet because I adore eccentric irredeemable villains. He also have that pathetic wet cat vibe that I adore, and his backstory is indeed a tragic one. He awakens a cocktail of emotions on me that is just delicious. 10/10 villain.

Rine, on the other hand, is a character that makes me feel extremely sorry for her. Her life prior to the events of the game is that of imprisonment, she barely knows anything about the world, and she is thrusted onto the hands of a man who cannot see past the soul she is a vessel for until almost the very end of their relationship. Tragic, and absolutely delicious. The woman she becomes when she has a moment to be herself has so much potential. She is still young, but I know she'll do great things. The Eden questline cemented her as one of my faves forever.

And so far that's all of them, to be fair! I haven't touched XIV much recently, but I'm about to start Endwalker soon, so maybe I'll have to expand or contract that list soon!

i saw someone ask this on twitter but i wanna know everyones favorite ffxiv characters :3 if i ask nicely will u tell me?

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

This fic contains non-consensual elements. Please do not read, if such content makes you uncomfortable.

AN: Thank you @nanamiscocksleeve for hosting this event. October or Kinktober is a month that I have always wanted to write for but end up not doing so for lack of time and motivation. But this event made me want to push myself. I'm late but I'm here. Thank you for waiting. (Contd. below)

Tw: non con, dark content

Please use this soundscape generator for the full experience

Growing up near the ocean meant you were always aware of just how powerful and dark it was. 

The strong arms pulled you to the depths, far below the surface of the water. You cursed yourself. Why had you been so arrogant? You knew the ocean was not an entity to be toyed with. You could feel the oxygen slowly leaving your lungs as your captor swam further and further away from the silver-topped waves.

You regretted everything: wearing this frilly new bikini despite it barely covering your voluptuous curves. Wading out with your friends under the moonlight. Drifting too far before realising you weren't close to them anymore and they would never hear your cries for help. 

In the darkness of the night, you were unable to see anything around you but the hand that wrapped itself around your ankle pulling you deep. You were a good swimmer, but this was…

Your lungs started to burn, still the grip on you never loosened. Instead, you felt sharp claws dig into the flesh of your arm. You let out a cry of pain, muffled by the weight of the water, and immediately a pair of cold lips closed over yours, exhaling into you.  An acrid salty flavour filled your mouth, and you tried to push your attacker away, but they were far stronger than you, the shackle on your arm tightening further…

You heard your heartbeat pumping in your ears, louder and louder, lungs struggling to hold on. The world around you dissolved into ink. You wanted to hit out, scream, but instead you felt yourself getting weaker and weaker. Your assaulter felt it too, slackening their grip. It didn't matter why you were the one taken or what would happen next. You weren't ready for death. The darkness closed in on you, and then there was nothing…

*****

When you woke, you were still surrounded by water in all directions, but the lack of light didn’t bother you as much as before. Even through the ultramarine gloom, you could recognise the vague shapes of coral and—

A soft swish of water moving attracted your attention. You whipped your head around and inhaled sharply—you could breathe? How? The water in your lungs should’ve killed you by now.

Still adjusting to the changes in your body, you watched as a strange figure approached you. This must have been the one who took you away from the surface—only, they weren't quite human. 

Legend spoke of the existence of creatures of the deep: not quite man, not quite fish, but something else entirely. Merpeople…a merman.  These were, of course, brushed off as old wives’ tales that did not hold any weight. But swimming before your eyes was the very legend himself.

His long dark hair flowed with the gentle current as he hovered in front of you. A wicked smile was plastered on his face, sharp white teeth gleaming contrastingly. Your breath hitched and you lowered your gaze— as though some force beyond your control was pushing you down.

The merman was adorned in strings of pearls and other precious stones but wore little else. A long sapphire tail swished below your feet, swooping under you and pulling you closer to him. Extending a scaled webbed hand, he caressed your cheek, sharp claws instead of nails trailing down your jaw like a warning. Glinting gold threads ran down his finned back and travelled down to the end of his tail.

Good. A rumbling voice in your head jolted you out of your stupor. I feared you would sleep through this. 

Writhing in the merman’s grasp, you desperately tried to find the source of this strange voice, but there was no other living being in sight. The finger trailing down the side of your face dipped to your collarbone and slid down to the swell of your breasts. You shivered at the touch—in fear or in anticipation?

The hand squeezed your breast, making you jump, and the creature hissed in response: I can smell your fear and you smell divine… 

 He pulled at the strings holding your bikini top together, and it fell away with no effort, your nipples hardening from the chill and the merman’s touch; instinctively, you moved to cover your breasts with your hands and pushed the merman away. 

 In the dark water, the flimsy top floated away, settling on to a rock below. You remembered your friends calling the swimsuit sexy in the shop and insisted on you buying it because what man could resist?

Turns out it was not just human men… 

 SLAP! 

Your cheek stung, the webbed hand held up threateningly:

Behave, human.  

You cowered and cupped your cheek — hot to the touch despite the cold ocean water — trapped in the grip of this merman’s tail. Another set of fingers touched you now, hands running up and down your body, exploring every inch of skin, each fold, given its due diligence. You suppressed the urge to cover up, your smarting cheek the only reminder needed to stop yourself. 

The smile on your abductor's face widened, rows of sharp teeth glittering in a wicked mirth. He used his tail to push between your legs now, rubbing against your thighs. His scales grazed your skin, and for a moment, for one horrible, tempting moment, you wondered what they'd feel like against your core. 

As if he had heard your thoughts, the merman delicately pulled the strings tying the bottom half of your bikini. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the orange strip of fabric fall to the ocean floor, joining the matching top nearby, but you were much more focused on how the merman’s hand had begun to drift between your thighs. 

Unfamiliar territory, but he knew where to touch, slipping his fingers between your folds. A swipe – then a taste, flicking his tongue in excitement. He threw his head back, relishing the flavour. 

Sweet. 

A muffled moan passed your lips. No, you wanted to say. Why? You wanted to cry out. It shouldn’t have felt so good.

There was a chuckle from the merman before he swam down, face right at your cunt, but this was more than you had bargained for. You immediately pulled your legs together and pushed away from him, kicking your feet to swim upwards. Whatever he wanted, he wouldn't get it so easily. 

You had to go up. Up would mean the surface. You would be free. Up would mean… 

The merman watched you swim  away slowly, following without a sound. You swam well, but he was faster. The swell of your ass and bouncing tits made his cock stir. What had once been driven by curiosity was now being driven by…hunger. 

Seeing his silhouette approach, you cried out, but there was nothing to be done. He extended an arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you to him. You struggled and pounded your fists against his firm chest, bubbles escaping your mouth where there should have been sound. Unfortunately for you, it only served to heighten his hunger.

The merman had never held a body like yours: soft, pudgy flesh that dipped into enticing contours, full rounded breasts that hung like the fruits of Eden. Arms thick and muscular, tanned by the warmth of the sun's rays. And petal-like lips that pulled into a frown of disapproval. 

 You continued to struggle, but his grip remained steady. Ignoring your wriggling protests, he flicked his tongue between your breasts, trailing it down your chest and soft tummy till he reached your crotch once again. 

Be good. 

You jolted as his tongue snaked out and rubbed against your clit. He wasn’t—he couldn’t—

Sweet…

Strong arms parted your legs this time, holding you in place by your ass. Trying to escape was futile – all you could do was whimper helplessly. The merman’s tongue lapped at your pussy— slow flicks that took their time to explore you fully. He knew what he was doing. His lips found your clit and closed over the small bud, softly sucking on it. You squeezed the merman’s head between your thighs as your head fell back, soundless moans escaping you and disappearing into the darkness above. You could feel nothing else in this damp, muffled existence. Only him. 

Filled with loathing and pleasure, you reached down, carding your fingers through his silky hair, pushing your hips into his face, further and further as he smiled against your skin, his hunger only growing with each lick and taste. You should have pushed away. You longed to do so still. And yet, you pushed into him more and more as his claws dug into your skin.

 Geto. The voice came once again creeping into your mind soft as a spiders web. Say my name. Say it.

“Geto!” You cried out, almost like a prayer. The name drifted upwards through the sea and towards the sky somewhere far above. Your orgasm drew closer, effectively pulled from your tightening core. The merman felt you squirm and kept going, unwavering: tongue almost flat against your pussy, licking thick stripes from the bottom to your clit. Two webbed fingers found their way to your opening, pushing into you roughly. The fingers curled inside as he sucked on your clit once more.

You squeezed your eyes shut. This was wrong. It was so wrong. But it felt so good. How? It didn’t make any sense! You’d never felt such ecstasy in your life, falling apart in the arms of this monster known only in legend, your legs spread wide as the creature made sure his teeth didn't pierce the soft flesh, pleasure heightening with each continued touch. 

Without warning, your climax hit you, wracking through your body and making you spasm and quiver in the merman’s hold. Hips bucking into his face, you rode out your desperate orgasm, feeling every touch Geto made with his tongue and fingers. The water rippled around you, scaring away a school of small fish. 

Geto swam up to your eye level once again, examining you carefully as you twitched and shuddered through your orgasm. He gently placed your arms around his neck, waiting for you to finish. 

Good? 

You nodded in response; it wasn't like you could hide your glazed-over eyes, still coming down from the involuntary high. It had been the merman who had drawn the arrow, and made sure of its well-aimed release, the same merman who now pulled you in for a searing kiss. 

His lips were icy-cold - a striking contrast against yours. Yet he kissed with a ferociousness that threatened to consume you whole. “Geto…” You moaned against his mouth, the vibrations of sound the only other sensation you could feel apart from his lips. He only responded with a hum: a rumbling melody that cut through the waters. His hips pushed up against you and you looked down. Through a small slit in his tail, his cock stood at attention. Unlike any human anatomy, it seemed the ocean had had its way here. In spite of yourself, you studied the appendage, observing it just long enough for Geto to notice. It was longer than any you had seen before, but not very thick. The tip was pointed and not round, but didn't seem like it'd be painful. It matched the colour of his scales,  gold threads running all the way around it like veins. 

A hand encircled your throat, drawing your gaze back to his face: a beautiful prince of the ocean draped in glittering jewels, silky black hair that the current played with, dark amethyst eyes that did not leave you even once. What was there to fear, to doubt? Any apprehensions you might have had drifted into the impenetrable waters, carried away by the waves. You laced your fingers behind his head, and he pressed against your body, scales rubbing against your skin. His cock-head prodded at your fat thighs and you spread your legs of your own accord this time, allowing it to slip in. The water helped, almost as though a living being itself, allowing him to pull you further onto his length. 

His lips met your throat now, gently pressing soft kisses against the thin skin. 

Warm…You are beautiful. And you are mine. 

You nodded. His. You would be his. There was no denying it. 

Geto’s cock now bottomed out in you. Still raw from your climax, your insides twitched at the sensation. It was so new. So different. It was as if someone else had taken over your body, making you react in ways that you’d never imagined. Who was this person inside you, moaning and pushing yourself closer to him? Who had you become?

His broad chest pressed against your breasts, and you moaned at the sensation of him grazing your nipples ever so slightly. Your fingers found the fin on the merman’s back and you ran the top down its arch, drawing out a hiss from his lips. He thrust up in response,  and you cried out at the sudden feeling of his cock hitting your cervix. He grinned at you again with those rows of shark-like teeth – threatening despite his smile. His arms around your waist, he manoeuvred your body according to his will, slamming you onto his cock repeatedly, each thrust sending you further and further into blissful stupor. Your head dropped into the crook of his neck, hair tangling with his. But he did not stop, thrusting faster and harder. He could feel the jiggle of your body against his, and it drove him insane with need. Fat flesh, full tits, thick ass — you had been the perfect choice. Everything he could ever dream of. He never wanted to let you go. 

Geto chased his release, desperate to fill your cunt with his seed. The effect of the potion he had slipped into you earlier would wear off soon, and he had to get you back to the surface before it was too late. His thrusts grew sloppier, more erratic, as he continued pumping in you, fingers tangled in your hair as another hand held your waist. Your soft mewls and moans - which he could hear, even if you couldn’t - spurred him on further, and with a deep groan he spilled into you, pressing you as close to him as possible. He would not waste a single drop.

When he was finished, Geto pulled your head close to his, kissing you again. Good human. You did so well. 

You smiled at his praise. You did well for him, and it filled your heart with joy and relief. But a nagging feeling told you it wasn't right. You shouldn't have. You didn't belong here. 

Geto held your arm once again and swam, this time towards the surface. “Geto…?” You carefully called out, your body feeling heavier by the second. He hummed once again, but you couldn't think of something to say. 

The water rushed past the two of you as he swam faster with you in his arms, the current of the ocean almost passing through you. Your chest began to burn, and it was so much harder to breathe. Around you, the ocean darkened, the burning sensation spreading through your lungs. “No,” you gasped, but nothing came out. You grabbed onto the merman’s arm, desperate to tell him somehow, but he only swam faster. Whatever little you could see of him was blurry, the ocean calling you back down despite how close you were to the sky again. Your surroundings faded from sight and you kicked at the water in a futile attempt to reach air. The last thing you felt before blacking out was Geto pulling you into his embrace as he continued the climb to the surface.

******

You came to on a secluded patch of your hometown beach. The sun had just started to rise above the horizon, the sky turning lighter and lighter as you coughed up salt water onto the wet sand. It burned in your throat, and you had never been more thankful for the oxygen that filled your lungs now. You were wearing your bikini again, but you remembered it drifting away in the deep. Had it all been a dream? Had you just drowned under a wave and been regurgitated back by the sea? 

You sat up slowly, looking out at the grey morning waves. In the distance there was a flash of a brilliant blue. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you clutched at the pearls around your throat…pearls around your throat…

A reminder. A promise. A warning. 

MINE. 

AN: This fic would not have seen the light of day if it wasn't for @ominouslywritinginmyhead. Not only did she rewrite whole chunks of garbled prose, she also encouraged me gently to overcome my blocks and finally finish the bastard. Thank you for taking the time to look over it with such haste even giving up your Halloween party with Toji cosplayers to help my smutty literature. Thank you for your support and your love. I couldn't have done it without you Saber.

[ivys-garden]

Hivy, I'm Ivy, and it's time for..

Life Series Alliance Analysis Session Recap:

Scars Snail cam is the best thing to happen this season.

Yes, another week means another session of Wild Life and damn did this one live up to the name. This session's Wild Card was the Infamous immortal snail, an idea originating from a meme that asked if you would press a button to get one million dollars if it meant an unkillable Snail would Chase you and if it ever touched you, you'd die.

This session's snails were far more dangerous though, resulting in far more carnage and downright Junji Ito-Esk descriptions of the incredibly ominous snails. On session 3 there are already 3 reds on the server and, had Grian not called end of session early, we would have had a first player out. So much happened and yet no progress was made, let's see what the teams were up to.

Also, 34 DEATHS WHAT THE FU

The Fast And The Furious (Gem & Joel)

I'm not calling them the family. That name is already taken. And is also lame.

The dynamic duo start the session by immediately forgetting they're supposed to be trying to shake their Villainous reputation by vowing to convince everyone to kill Pearl & Impulse, an incredibly stupid plot for many reasons:

1.Everyone they convince sucks at they're job

2. By gems own admission, Impulse barely did anything to her

3.joel literally forgot about this, since it wasn't important

4. Pearl literally did nothing to her, she was just they're as Impulse was having a rake in there chest (no the poisoning doesn't count, Pearl would do that to anyone)

5. If Pearl is to be punished for just being in the area, then why aren't Cleo & Scott also punished?

6. Gem and Impulse have no interactions this session

7. Pearl and Impulse STILL don't realise Gem hates them

8. Gem repeatedly calls what she's doing “Social Deduction”... no.

Gem actually has a lot in common with Impulse, they're both being extremely ruthless for no reason (if these two become thr final two and there isn't an AMV of there journey through teh season set to Ruthlessness from Epic I will literally eat snow.)

How will this saga end? Idk but it's very funny. keep it up.

Apart from that Gem built a wall, befriended her Snail and neither died. Well done!

(Sidenote about the Gem-Impulse beef, people forget this since he hasn't mentioned it yet but Joel makes it his mission to kill Scott every season. These teams would still be against each other regardless of what Impulse did, which is also very funny)

The Final Girls - (Pearl, Scott, Cleo, Impulse & Bigb)

Oh Deer. That's a lot of deaths very early for the faverouites to win

So to start, Impulse’s Creeper farm is a bust and likely will never be seen again. Whoopsie.

The team also decided to move a smidge closer to everyone else. Due to the snails no substantial progress could be made on this endeavour from most of the team tho, luckily Pearl (after dying to her snail, immediately proving herself as the teams crash test dummy again) was able to get a grip on her snail and get the build started, unfortunately as Pearl is building it is almost certainly going to become a tower…. Oh Pearl also died again building it. What's up with her this season?

Moving on to the perpetual drama that I'd this team’s dynamic, where once again we see the contrast between how Tumblr acts like this team is and how they actually are, with everyone just having a grand old chill time joking around and petting dogs. Crazy to think that a team made of these 5 goober would actually ENJOY when they're teammates cause chaos, Hmm?

A lot of this team's session is actually spent apart, meaning that there isn't much to talk about with them. But Pearl is on Yellow now, meaning she is definitely killing someone next session (an action the whole team is one board with btw). Once again proving herself as the attack dog of the life Series, she asks the team who to hurt. Impulse tries to convince her to attack Ren for killing him, but Pearl shoots this down, once again proving that she is NOT ruthless like impulse. Remember everyone, Pearl might be a little chaos gremlin but she does need a reason to kill or she won't do it. She isn't actually just a murder machine like in double life

That's the funny thing about double life actually. Pearl has moved in from the tower, its everyone else who is stuck in it.

Anyway, grian has a big ol target on his back, we'll see how that Pan's out next week.

Oh also SNAIL RACE HELL YEAH MOTHER FU

The Bam-Boozelers (Scar, Lizzie & Jimmy)

Lizzie thinks snails are arthropods.

Remember when I said Jimmy was the only confident one on this team? Well I guess he didn't have the confidence brain cell this week because he died. He died so much. The entire session for these guys is pretty much just trying to save Jimmy.

This doesn't go very well at all. Jimmy is able to get one life back through a deal with Ren, but all other attempts to intentionally kill someone fall flatter than Scar in session one. At least he does take initiative and blow up Joel's Hidious-Horrible-No-Good-Mobile. Great work big man!

Aslo, Jimmy admitted to being the harvester of the end! The canary curse isn't dying g first it's dying RIGHT before the Finale! That's Canon! I was right! VINDICATION!

The Tuff Guys (Bdubs, Etho & Tango)

Word of advice, if you need to constantly say your tough, your not.

Somehow despite making literally negative progress, this team still managed to do a lot. Bdubs immediately starts the episode with some light gaslighting on account of being bdubs. After this it is decided he must “do something tuff” and so he is sent to go mess with the Bam-Boozelers.

Keeping up with tuff guy tradition, bdubs doesn't do anything. Instead he enlists the Bam Gang to help him make up a story about how totally bad and evil he is. Bdubs is also allowed to come stay with them when the tuff guys inevitably fall apart. An offer bdubs is willing to accept even after Jimmy & Scar get him killed.

In other tuff news, Etho is desperate to prove that he is super tuff and shows up to kill the Bam-Boozelers cows…while they're away meaning he did not have to display any tuffness. He literally just needed to be in and out before they got back. He also takes a second shot at the final girls at gem's request again, and like the first time it goes horribly. The first time he gets distracted by the snail dance party (who wouldn't) and when he remembers what he actually set out to do, the most tuff then he can think of is empty threats and mild littering. C- for effort.

And then there's poor unfortunate Tango, not only does he go to red this session but he also loses his house after being blamed for the cow deaths etho caused. Oh but don't worry he got revenge on scar… in a way that was easily repairable and did no actual damage apart from massively lowering his own reputation.

That is the great tuffness of the tuff guys everybody! They're failing at everything and getting overly stressed about shelled gastropods!

The Spanners (Grian, Mumbo & Skizz)

Grian seemed to think this card would be easy, and I geuss it is if you k ow what to expect and have one of your mates Snail watching you all episode.

Now, Skizz, majestic failure that he is, went yellow super quickly and so the entire session is spent trying to save his but in a multitude of ways, all of which skizz manages to fail at spectacularly. Grian does manage to save Ren from Yellow for about ten minutes and at the cost of any chance he had of Impulse not killing him.

Eventually skizz gave up on all the compilated plots and just wacked Lizzie until she died.

He then immediately got killed again God damn it skizz.

OK so skizz massively lowered they're reputation with the Bam-Boozelers for nothing AND Impulse's revenge meter is full and his team won't hold him back anymore AND I think Martyn might still be peeved at the Enchanter situation AND Tango probably still wants to kill them AND despite what grian says Gem and Joel don't seem to care about them beyond nudging them to kill Impulse so yeah these 3 are super dead, I give them like a session until one of them drops.

P.S Mumbo calls the Snail meme a “thought experment” and I found that very funny and I think you should too.

Also apparently Jimmy and Grian debate what to do about the snail all the time??

Renwood (Martyn & Ren)

There will be a live Snail reaction meme over yaoi of these two I just now it.

Fallowing they're arc of being nice this season, Renwood goes on a great friend finding journey, allying with Gem & Joel on the condition of totally being super mean to Impulse promise and forming a friends to the end Pack with Jimmy at the cost of a spare life.

Ren probably regrets that particular pact as, while trying to perform a great horse search, he loses a life. And another. And so he must kill, allying temporarily with the Spanners to get a kill on Impulse, something that he immediately regrets, proving he is less of a Rottwiler and More of a Labby. Luckily for ren he avoids Impulse's revenge list for now on account of apologising, getting instant Karma for it and the other final girls desperately holding Impulse back.

Martyn on the other hand has a far better time, gallivanting I'm the Nether with etho for potions (he died doing that but shhh), organising the great Snail dance party and joining up with fellow Chaos Gremlins Pearl and Impulse to have some fun with snails and tnt.

With potions in hand the Renwood duo and Etho got up to all sorts of mischief, turning ren invisible and making Scar's Snail invisible, resulting in him almost dying twice and being out of the series…oopsie.

Also Martyn sucks at explaining the Snail meme and thinks the all spice guy and kool aid man are the same person.

Predictions?

With more information comes the first Predictions from me.

●Someone goes out and soon. Probably Skizz or Scar. Jimmy will survive tho, after all the canary curse means he's the harbinger of the end of the series… though with how it's going, next session very well could be the end of the series.

●Grian Is getting murked next session, probably by Pearl.

● The tuff guys will fall apart. Bdubs will buy with the Bam-Boozelers, Etho with Gem and Joel and Tango will be left scrabbling for someone to team up with.

● Joel will try to get revenge on Jim for blowing up the car and will fail

● Etho will continue to look like a total loser

● One of the people yet to die loses a life next session.

So uh yeah. I'm gonna go lie down for until next week.

Until then I've been Ivy, and this has been… whatever this was.

[pearblossomrain]

personal summary of what might be the most unserious gp i have ever seen aka sao paulo 2024:

(almost needed a whole separate post just for qualis and side note, this sounds a bit like commentary bc i was actually making commentary when watching for my friend)

tldr for qualis; more red flags than an all boys' school, some controversial safety car periods, hamilton out q1, red bulls+sainz out q2, crazy top 5 of norris, russell, tsunoda, ocon and lawson in That Exact Order.

• before the race even STARTED, sainz was starting from the pit lane, albon didn't start the race due to damage from quali, verstappen had a 5 place grid penalty. when you think things are already crazy enough, lance stroll spins out on the formation lap which calls for a second formation lap, and then a third formation lap and aborted start due to lots of confusion (multiple drivers were noted 💀)

(will cut here to save space T-T)

• lights out and away we go....and so does the lead apparently bc russell almost immediately grabbed first from norris?? and he held onto that lead like my grandma holds a grudge; for what seemed like aeons. 😭

• verstappen, hamilton, colapinto and gasly were leaping up the ranks like nobody's business, literally blinked and i missed multiple overtakes from them.

• speaking of verstappen, he goes all the way up from p17 to p6 in like less than 15 laps and there was a super nerve wracking train of tsunoda, ocon, leclerc and verstappen that honestly stressed the hell out of me to watch for all those consecutive laps (i left to get an ice cream and when i came back, even the gaps between had barely changed at all)

• ferrari suddenly decides to pit leclerc incredibly early which i still cannot tell if it was a good idea or not because it started raining heavily and soon everyone except a few of the leading pack went into the pit after a virtual safety car period bc hulkenberg spun out (more on him later trust me), which puts us with a seemingly temporary top 3 of OCON, VERSTAPPEN AND GASLY??? in that order too! 🤡

• first red flag because colapinto collided really heavily into the barriers (man i feel bad for him, this is as close to a home race as it gets for him) and i swear nobody is having a worse day than the williams garage.....my genuine thoughts and prayers to that blue unserious team

• AN ACTUAL BLACK FLAG?!!??? to hulkenberg because apparently when he spun out he had marshals push his car back on track which isn't allowed (but i have to say, unless he made the marshals do it when they didn't want to, it's also a bit on them)....williams racing might have a competitor for most depressed garage after this 😭

• penalties!! so many penalties!! bearman picked up a couple of penalties for collisions and so did piastri which they keep until the end and i'm quite sure there were a couple more but i really could NOT keep up oops. (edit: one more thing! i do feel a little bad for piastri bc he had to sort of give a bit of way for norris at the end when they were stacked tgt only for them to not move up positions at all and with the 10s penalty idk how this will end up being.)

• this red flag period was so unbelievably long (i think all in all it was about 30 min?) that i had time to watch them all go into the pits and get out of their cars, then leave and do some laundry, grab a snack and a drink. 😭 and when i returned, 16 drivers had just requested a restart which in turn led the fia to call for a rolling start

• they finally went back to racing, and so many things happened relatively quickly; norris went wide and russell went past norris to p4, bearman got into the barriers but returns to bring up the rear (NOOO MY SON) and sainz crashed rather badly into the barriers and that was ANOTHER safety car period good god! (they said this is his second time in the barriers which, absolutely Foul, but unfortunately not wrong 😭)

• verstappen (who was honestly having a great day so far from p17 to p2) TOOK A PRETTY BIG LEAD which. oh my god we hadn't seen this in like 100 days or something 😭 and norris goes down to p7?? not sure what happened there tbh i was not looking closely oops again.

• there was a crazy back-and-forth battle going in the midfield bc both vcarbs are in front of perez who, in the commentators' words, "are both fighting for his seat" 💀 and hamilton was also chasing perez (and eventually got the last point) so there was just a lot of scrabbling for points i guess?

• also somewhere in there, i didn't keep track because of so many things happening, alonso spun out and ended up at the back of the pack (i also feel bad for him bc he mentioned back pain and bouncing at the end so sorry grandpa) and yet he did not finish dead last? afterwards he was dead set on finishing the race "for the mechanics", in his own words, which i see as an absolute class act in my opinion. hate him or love him, this makes me have huge respect for him.

• ALPINE. alpine oh my god i (and them. and EVERYONE HONESTLY???) can't believe they held onto a double podium all the way to the end wow i think nobody is happier than that garage and team rn like whole house GLADDD 😭 (p.s. my friend, not sure if she'd like to be tagged, said that the french flag and dutch flag at the podium ceremony were "like y-axis and x-axis" which had me losing it)

• honestly the only thing i am rather sad about is tsunoda finishing p8 after starting p3 but if we are being honest, parts of this race were due to circumstances and perhaps a little bit of additional luck but at least he is in the points and goodbye unlucky streak!! plus it's double vcarb points!

[side notes because this is as long as an entire speech; i did the maths and norris would have to be p1 and verstappen p8 in every single grand prix (not counting the sprint) to win by 1 point and if the maths works out that they're both tied in points, verstappen would still win because he has more grand prix wins even if norris wins all remaining 3 gps]

in conclusion, for a race i predicted would finish at 1:30am my time (it started at 11:30pm here) and hopefully i would get more 5 hours of sleep before work, i will be left with just over 3 hours of sleep now and yet i have ZERO REGRETS BECAUSE HOLY FCK THAT WAS A ROLLERCOASTER. absolutely nothing can top this race for me for the entire season and maybe even last season!!

definitely probably missed quite a few things but this is what i can remember off the top of my head or what was most memorable to me and it is 3am here so pls cut me some slack 🙏

[lavenderchqn]

Congrats on 300 followers!! Your works are so lovely, and theyre so fun to read!! 💕

For the library expansion special event, i'd love for a hurt/comfort written fic with tighnari that involves the reader being injured? Like, reader survives but barely, and then nari is so worried taking care of them 🥹

(I have no idea if I did the request right but regardless, congratulations on the milestone again!! And thank you for your hard work 🩷 drink lots of water and take care of yourself!!)

"BELLIS PERENNIS"

synopsis — An accident happens while you're preparing Gandharva Ville for Sabzeruz Festivals' celebrations, luckily Tighnari is there to nurture you back to health... pairings — tighnari x gn!reader warnings — hurt/comfort; mentions of an injury (nothing graphic stated); notes — tysm for this request as well as the kind words! tighnari is a very special boi, so I'm absolutely delighted to be writing for him~ I've actually had something of this caliber in mind for text/written scenarios so I'm delighted for your request. Please also make sure to be taking good care of yourself, anon 🫶

As soon as the calendars mark the start of October, the people of Sumeru begin preparations for their cherished tradition: the Sabzeruz Festival, a celebration honouring their beloved archon. Sumeru’s City streets and squares are adorned with vibrant decorations, fragrant flowers and colourful lanterns light up the bustling markets. Music can be heard everywhere as musicians practice for the grand performance on the day of the archon’s birthday. 

And you? You’re in charge of dressing up Gandharva Ville instead of Tighnari, as he’s on the committee related to the Parade. Thanks to your position as his partner, all forest rangers are eager to help whatever vision you wish to bring to life. To them, it’s somewhat refreshing to be under the guidance of someone else other than their resident Valuka Shauna. 

Currently, your beloved partner is out assisting with yet another brilliant idea of the equally brilliant Madame Faruzan and Kaveh. With no commissions relating to Sumeru’s ecosystem to be done by your friends, the time to decorate the tiny city comes. In all fairness, you all want to get done with it as soon as possible — flora-related issues can pop up out of nowhere… and you promised Tighnari not to over-extort your body.

With the help of Collei, who is surprisingly joining you in the decorating process, you split the tasks among the rangers, assigning each of them to different areas of the village: some will gather additional flowers, others will craft garlands, and a few will set up the lanterns. In your mind, you can envision the vibrant flora adorning the trees and houses, illuminating the Ville like a shimmering and colourful garden. 

At first, everything goes smoothly, allowing you and the younger girl to assist each group in completing the tasks. The garland-making process is by far the most time-consuming, requiring much precision and some “aesthetic” knowledge. The longer it goes, the more and more people join in creating said wreaths, taking over for people tired and with hurt friends. 

As time goes on and on, it gets relatively close to the time Tighnari is supposed to return from Port Ormos. By this point, you’re hanging up the flowery decorations on the trees, balancing on a ladder. Unlike the early morning, people now scatter chaotically. Everyone is hurrying up to finish their part, wanting Tighnari to witness Gandharva Ville in its most beautiful state. With everyone being everything but organised, concentrating on getting the job done is less than easy. Now you have to put up with people knocking into you on accident, messing up your balance.

Just as you’re about to secure another garland, a murmur spreads through the crowd. The word is that Tighnari has been sighted approaching the Ville. This news sends a ripple of excitement — and panic — through everyone. Collei, standing nearby, shoots you a wide-eyed glance before you break into a grin. 

“Alright, everyone!” You call out, clapping your hands to draw people’s attention. “Let’s finish strong so Tighnari can see the full splendour of our hard work!” 

In the rush that follows, people are hurrying to put the finishing touches on the decorations. Rangers are darting back and forth, carrying last-minute additions and adjusting already hung to ensure everything looks flawless. You return your focus to your task, carefully tying the last garland to a branch, breathing steadily to keep your balance despite the chaotic movement below. 

But as you’re about to tie off the final knot, someone below bumps into the ladder, sending it into a wobble. It sways beneath you, throwing you off balance. Your hand instinctively reaches out to grab something, anything, to steady yourself, but there’s nothing within reach. Your heart is pounding as you brace for a fall, feeling the world tilt as the ladder tips further. 

As there’s nothing to catch you… you have an unfortunate meeting with the ground. You can feel something breaking, as you’re knocked out. Darkness envelops you, swallowing the sounds of bustling rangers who now gather around you worried. Slowly, consciousness returns in fragments — voices now hushed, a gentle touch, and a dull, throbbing ache pulsing through your body. 

Blinking your eyes open, you’re greeted by the leafy canopy roof, blurring and swimming in your vision. It takes a moment to orient yourself and take a deep breath, only to feel a sharp, burning pain in your chest.

“Hey, hey, don’t move too much,” A familiar voice says gently. You look up and see Tighnari’s concerned face hovering above you, his brows knit in worry.

“Nari…” You manage to murmur, wincing as his fingers graze your shirt. You can notice a stash of makeshift bandages on a stool nearby. Collei is nowhere to be found, leaving you as the only two in your partner’s abode. 

“You took quite the fall,” Tighnari says softly, his voice both reassuring yet stern. “We’re still waiting for a doctor from Bimarstan to arrive and asses your situation further. We’re quite lucky nobody else was injured. What I cannot explain, however, is why you were climbing ladders without anybody spotting you.” He tries to keep his tone light not to worry you, but it’s easy to tell he’s genuinely concerned. 

You open your mouth to explain, but all that comes out is a cough and you try to grab your chest in pain. Your partner is right in front of you, catching your hands — worried that your fall might’ve resulted in some injury there. 

“Having trouble breathing?” He asks, crouching with your hands still in his. As soon as you reply with a slight nod, his expression changes to a one of worry. Perhaps the situation is worse than he initially predicted. 

“Master! The doctor is here, can we come in?” Collei’s voice echoes, gathering the attention of you both. Gosh, you hope the young girl doesn’t blame herself for your injury. You don’t even want to think about potentially adding more stuff onto her plate of worries. 

“Oh,” Tighnari leaves you be for a second, opening the door to the hut. “But of course. [Y/N] is also awake now.” 

With a quick nod, the doctor enters carefully not wanting to startle you. He can overhear the whispers of your issues with breathing. Regardless of what happened, a thorough examination is in order. According to the words of the young forest ranger, your fall was quite brutal. 

“Mr. Tighnari,” The doctor calls out to your partner as he steps outside. “I’ve concluded my check-up.” 

Tighnari’s ears perk up, focused as he nods for the doctor to continue. He’s trying his best to keep his composure, but you can see the worry in his expression as he waits to hear about the findings. 

The doctor’s done is steady and professional as he speaks. “Your partner has a broken rib. That can explain the chest pain and difficulty breathing. Fortunately, your partner hasn’t fallen all that bad, otherwise rather than a patient… you would’ve had a dead body on your hands.” Despite uttering such words, his posture is unnerved. 

That cannot be said about Tighnari. His eyes are wide with shock, as he tries to comprehend if the doctor is trying to make a joke. Nobody, not even Cyno, would been so brave as to joke about a person dying — his soulmate dying, most specifically. 

“It will take careful attention and time for the rib to heal properly. I’ve wrapped their chest to provide some support, but they’ll need to avoid any strain for the next few weeks.” He pauses, giving Tighnari a meaningful look. “They should take some time off work, heaven knows what you rangers do to patrol Avidya Forest.” 

Tighnari releases a quiet sigh of relief, nodding as he absorbs the information, deciding to omit the thought of your death from his mind. “Thank you, doctor.” He says, voice steady but softened by gratitude. “I’ll make sure they rest and follow your instructions.” 

The doctor gives a small, reassuring nod before leaving. Collei, however, hovers nearby, visibly anxious. Tighnari, picking up on her distress, gestures for her to come closer.

“Collei, it’s alright,” He says gently, giving her a comforting smile. “They’ll be fine, they just need time to recover. Don’t worry — it was an accident, nobody is at fault here.” 

Her shoulders relax slightly, though she still looks at you apologetically. “[Y/N], I… I’m so sorry. I should’ve kept a better eye,” She says, her voice shaky. 

Despite the dull ache in your chest, you manage a small, reassuring smile. “Don’t blame yourself. I’m,” You pause to take a breath. “I’m not upset… and neither should you.” 

“Oh, um— o-okay…” 

Tighnari places a hand on her shoulder, giving her a supportive squeeze. “You’ve done everything you could. I’m very proud of you for taking charge. Now that everything is in order, you can rest as well. We’ve all put in a lot of effort, you know.” 

With a hesitant nod, Collei finally allows herself to relax. She murmurs a quick farewell and leaves, casting one last concerned glance your way. 

Once you’re alone, Tighnari sits beside you, his expression soft as he takes your hand. “You had me worried,” He admits quietly, brushing a thumb over your knuckles. “You’re not getting out of my sight for a while, I guess?” 

You cannot help but chuckle, which immediately turns into a wince as pain flares up in your chest. Tighnari’s grip tightens ever so slightly, brows furrowed in concern. 

“See?” He says. “This is why you’re under strict bedrest. No adventures until you’re fully healed AND approved by the doctor.” 

You sigh in response, resigned but comforted by his soulmate. “Fine, fine. I guess I have to behave now.” You reply, meeting his gaze with a hint of a smile. 

No more than three weeks pass by as you realise being bedridden is quite boring. Sure Collei, Tighnari and even Cyno are here to keep you company while you get better, yet you're still aching to go out to witness the Sabzeruz Festival in person. You’re quite certain that at this point, every place of Sumeru is decorated to the nines and yet you’re stuck in your silly little bed. 

“Drink slowly,” Tighnari says as he settles a glass of water on your nightstand. Over the past few weeks, your partner has truly evolved into his final form — a mother hen. Ever since the first day of your recovery, he has been granting your every wish. Fluffing over pillows? He’s done it. Feeding you? Complied with an eye roll. And yet, there was one thing he wouldn’t allow you to do… Leaving the hut. It has been so long since you’ve been outside, you were unsure if you knew how to walk still. 

“Oh, thank you,” You pick up the glass and slowly bring it up to your mouth.“You shouldn’t have.” You say, taking a sip. 

Tighnari’s watchful eye doesn’t leave you for a second, ensuring you’re drinking slowly enough not to cause yourself any harm. “Oh please, darling,” He rolls his eyes, scoffing at your preposterous comment. “It’s my pleasure to help out my soulmate in their time of need.” 

“I know, I know…” You sigh, taking a look outside. 

The garlands are still hanging in the branches, adoring Gandharva Ville’s trees with beautiful shades of pink and blue. Oh, how you long to witness this beauty in person, rather than from the confines of your bed. No matter how much you tried to hide said desire from Tighnari, there was simply no use. The male knew of every single one of your thoughts, whether you liked it or not. 

“You know,” Tighnari sits next to the bed, resting his head on his hand. “Maybe we could take a walk today? I think it would do you good.” 

Your eyes light up at his words, though you quickly try to compose yourself, not wanting to appear too eager. After all, Tighnari’s been strictly enforcing your rest, and far too much excitement might have him second-guess the idea. “A walk?” You ask, trying to sound calm but failing as a hint of hope slips into your voice. 

He chuckles, eyes warm as he observes your expression. “Yes, a short walk,” Tighnari emphasises, “Only around the village, and only if you promise to let me know if anything feels off. We don’t want you taking any more tumbles.” 

You nod, lifting your pinky finger. “I’ll take it easy.” 

With his support, you ease out of bed, feeling the cool, earthy air of Gandharva Ville wash over you. The decorations are even more enchanting up close, just as they were on the day you put them up. Villagers and forest rangers greet the two of you as you pass by, each offering a smile and words of encouragement — relieved to see you up and about. 

Tighnari keeps a steady pace beside you, his arm linked with yours as he leads you through the village. He looks at you every so often, making sure you’re okay. He cannot risk you any other injury so quickly, otherwise the doctor’s cruel joke might come to fruition. 

For all this time, he had been keeping up a front of being worried… in moderate amounts. On the insides, for the past few weeks, Tighnari had been a nervous wreck. Juggling preparations for the festival while taking care of you was no easy feat. And yet, seeing you up and moving at least fills him with a deep, quiet relief.

“Are you okay there?” He asks softly. There’s a tenderness in his eyes, one that shows how much he’s missed seeing you this lively.

“Better than okay,” You reply with a smile, though you do your best not to overdo it, worried about the ache in your chest. “Everything looks so beautiful. It’s like… exactly how I’d imagined it.”

Tighnari chuckles. “Good to know the work has upheld the planner’s expectations.” He sighs a little. “Though I’d much rather have you safe and sound than climbing ladders. Please… leave the high work to someone else next time, you hear me?” 

“Okay, okay—“ You nod, feeling gratitude mixed with guilt. “I never meant to make you worry.” 

“I know. There was just…” His expression grows serious. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as helpless as when I saw you there on the ground…” 

The admission hangs in the air, as does the silence that comes soon after. Stopping for a second, you reach out to Tighnari, to wrap yourself around him in a gentle hug. “You took amazing care of me… I couldn’t have asked for more.” 

He nuzzles his head with yours, not wanting to put any pressure on your body, grounding himself in said reassurance. “Well,” He says, his voice lingering. “You’re gonna have to let me fuss a little longer. I’ll watch you like a hawk until that rib is fully healed.” 

“As if you weren’t doing so already…” 

date of posting — november 4th 2024

[hoe4hotchner]

Chapter 7 - Breaking point

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x figure skater (fem)!Reader

Summary: The story follows you a figure skater training for nationals and Aaron Hotchner as your lives intertwine during an investigation into the abductions of young athletic women, including the your close friend, Leah. As the BAU delves deeper into the case, you find yourself captivated by Hotch’s quiet strength and protective presence. When Leah’s body is tragically discovered at the rink, the tension escalates, surrounding you in an atmosphere of fear and uncertainty.

Word count: 10.2k

Warnings: Blood, murder, ice pick stabbing, grief, trauma, and vulnerability. Disturbing imagery? (to some maybe), intense emotions, reader has feelings of guilt and fear. Heavy themes. Reader experiences shock and a sense of personal violation, I murder a minor in the ladder half of the chapter (maybe this is the last murder in the fic…. I don't know yet)……. Also maybeeeee there's an almost kiss 😈.

A/N: This took me way too long to edit…… like 4 days. And the only reason is that I'm a dumbass who constantly kept backtracking and adding more things and new scenes to the chapter….. I literally added 2.5k more words to this than it started out with.

Also I've had a busy week so that's that ;)

Masterlist

The sharp screech of tires behind you brought you back from the depths of your shock, but even as the sound echoed through the street, your mind struggled to process what lay in front of you fully. The grotesque sight of Branson’s lifeless body slumped against your front door, the dark pool of blood seeping from his chest, the ice pick still lodged in his heart — it all felt like a sick and twisted dream, something too horrific to be real — too close to home, literally.

The words smeared across your door, “You’re next,” burned into your mind, each letter etched in blood, like a threat — no, it was a threat, a threat you were far too stunned to recognize.

You felt frozen in place, paralyzed by the disbelief of the situation as well as the terror swirling around in your chest. You were unable to tear your gaze from the gruesome sight. Your breath came in shallow gasps — small clouds of condensation forming in the air — the reality of what you saw was slow to sink in. The wind whipped around you, carrying the soft rustling of leaves in the trees, but even that felt distant like it couldn’t quite reach your ears through the numbness creeping through your body.

The slam of the car door echoed sharply — the sound was violent compared to the gentle rustles of the night — a sound that should’ve jolted you, but you barely registered it. He moved with a quick, determined stride, his dark coat billowing slightly in the air as he cut across the street and through the shadows to reach you.

And then, through the thickening fog of your fear, he appeared in front of you. Solid, familiar — the cologne, you recognized it — He was undeniably real, not just something you'd imagined.

Hotch

His face, usually composed, now portrayed subtle cracks of concern as his gaze swept over the scene. Swiftly he swept it over Branson’s lifeless body, taking in the blood and the message scrawled on your door — it was not the first time he had seen a message like that, but the difference was that last time he knew that she could defend herself if necessary. You, not so much.

But then his eyes found you — you were still frozen in shock — they softened as he took in the state you were in, a mix of worry and concern spreading as he took you in. Without a word, he closed the distance between you — his presence felt grounding in the chaos — and pulled you into a firm, shielding embrace. He didn't know what had come over him — He rarely got this close with victims, no matter what they went through. But you were different.

His arms encircled you completely, holding you tightly, as though his strength alone could shield you from the horror just feet away. Although your eyes were blank — staring into the void — your arms instinctively wrapped around his back as you turned your head to let your cheek rest on his chest.

The warmth of his chest against yours, the steady rise and fall of his breathing — it all anchored you, pulling you from the haze that had swallowed your mind. For a brief moment, everything else faded: the blood, the message, the body against your door. All that existed was the safety of his hold, the quiet assurance of his touch. Him.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice rumbled in his chest making it slightly vibrate against your cheek. Hotch kept murmuring reassuring words to you, trying to reach through the panic that gripped you down to your core. But your breath was still shallow, your words tangled in the back of your throat. Your wide, glazed eyes couldn’t stop flicking back to the scene, the blood still fresh, the ice pick still gleaming in the faint light of the moon. Hotch’s arms tightened just a little as he quietly turned both your bodies around, making sure he was the one to face Branson's body, not you.

"I'm sorry... I—" you stammered, finally managing to speak, your voice broke under the weight of everything, everything you couldn't figure out how to express. The words felt hollow, lost in the moment once they'd been spoken. As the world spun around you, your knees threatened to give way, the ground beneath you felt unstable — yet the concrete was newly paid, leaving little room for uneven terrain. But before you could crumble, Hotch hooked one of his hands around your underarm and tightened his grip around you before pulling you closer, his presence was the only thing keeping you upright in that moment.

As he felt your breaths slowly getting calmer, he moved his other hand gently to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a softness that contrasted the harsh reality.

"Don’t apologize," he whispered, his voice was filled with reassurance. His breath ghosted over your temple as he spoke. "Just focus on me. I’m here."

Hotch managed to fish his phone from his coat pocket with the freest of his hands, keeping his arm wrapped securely around you to the best of his ability as he quickly dialed for backup. Even in this moment, his movements were fluid and purposeful, a testament to his training as an agent as well as his instincts as a human. As he spoke, his voice shifted back to its authoritative tone, the one you had heard several times before — sharp, commanding, and laced with urgency as he barked orders into the phone. "I need units at (Y/N)'s address immediately — I don't care, send them all — We've got a homicide, and she’s been threatened. Secure the perimeter, and get forensics down here. Now!"

His eyes were laser-focused, darting back and forth as he processed the situation, and tried to profile the crime scene to the best of his abilities, while still needing to make sure you were okay. The tension in his jaw was evident as he took in the horrific scene, the pieces of the puzzle finally snapping together. His gaze locked onto the message scrawled on your door, the horror of it deepening his frown. He had been too late the last time, but now was his chance to redeem his past actions. "And make it fast. No delays," he added, his voice brokering no argument.

You stood there, pressed against him as your body trembled uncontrollably. The raw reality of what had unfolded settled in your stomach like a heavy, sinking weight. Branson’s lifeless body — each horrifying detail — flashed over and over in your mind, etched too deeply to ignore. The nausea that had been simmering suddenly surged, more forceful than before, and for a moment, you thought you could hold it back. But the bile rose too fast, too fierce.

With a shaky gasp, you pulled away from Hotch as quickly as you could, stumbling a few steps toward the nearest bush. Your body betrayed you as you bent forward, retching, the nausea spilling out in waves. Your fingers dug into the rough bark of the tree beside you, gripping it as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. The sound of your own ragged breaths filled your ears, and all you could feel was the sickening churn in your gut.

Hotch was by your side in an instant, one hand resting gently on your back, while the other gently moved your hair back and into a makeshift ponytail as you emptied what little remained in your stomach. He didn’t say anything, just stayed close, offering silent comfort. When you finally straightened, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you looked pale, beads of sweat evident on your forehead.

"Come on," Hotch said gently, grabbing your hand as he once again wrapped his other arm around your shoulder. His voice was soft but steady. "Let’s get you somewhere safe." His hand remained firm around yours, guiding you with careful, deliberate, and slow steps toward his car. You could feel his thumb brushing gentle circles over your knuckles, each touch grounding you in a way words couldn't. It was like he knew that the smallest connection was just enough to stop you from collapsing completely.

When you reached the car, he opened the passenger door with ease, then gently helped you inside. You barely registered the seat beneath you, still numb from the shock of it all, but his hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment longer than necessary. It wasn’t just a gesture of comfort — it was something far deeper, a reminder that he wasn’t just some big-shot FBI unit chief tonight. He was someone who genuinely cared.

You leaned back against the seat, feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once, closing your eyes in an attempt to block everything out.

The distant wail of sirens cut through the night, growing louder with each passing second until it was no longer just a sound but a piercing force that seemed to disturb the air around you. In an instant, the street outside was flooded with a sea of flashing red and blue lights, illuminating the darkened neighborhood. Officers descended onto the scene with purpose, their movements quick and coordinated — they knew just what to do. Forensics teams began to set up their equipment, yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze as it was stretched across the area by an officer, and the soft murmur of voices carried through the night. The once-quiet street had transformed into a chaotic hive of activity, the lights casting a surreal, almost otherworldly glow over everything.

Outside the car, the commotion grew as K9 units arrived on the scene, their dogs weaving through the taped-off perimeter. Their barks echoed in the night. The low hum of radios crackled to life as handlers gave commands, and the dogs sniffed along the ground, searching for any trace of the unsub’s path. Their noses skimmed over the blood-streaked pavement and dewy grass, while officers kept a close watch, ensuring nothing was overlooked.

Yet, inside Hotch’s car, the world felt muted — detached from the frenetic scene outside. The flashing lights, the movement of officers, the blaring sirens, the barking dogs — it was all muffled as if a thick layer of glass separated you from the outside world. The bubble of silence around you was eerie, you hated it, but couldn't shake muffled sounds that hit your ears. You sat there, still, eyes locked on the windshield, staring straight ahead but not really seeing anything. The night outside bled into a blur, the colors and shapes swirling together making the world around you distorted.

Your mind, however, was still anchored to a singular image — the last, awful sight of Branson. That scene played on a loop behind your eyes, each detail etched into your memory. Especially the ice pick — it swirled in your thoughts, refusing to let go, trapping you in a state of disbelief. It didn’t feel real. It couldn't be real.

Hotch crouched down in front of you, his tall frame folding with an effortless grace, bringing him just below your level in a way that felt intimate. He didn’t say anything — there were no words that could possibly ease the weight of what you’d witnessed — but his presence was enough. His hand found yours — it was warm compared to your icy one — fingers threading together as though silently promising you weren’t facing this alone.

His thumb traced soft, rhythmic circles over your skin, a small yet deeply intimate gesture, one he likely didn’t even realize he was doing. It was instinct. The weight of his gaze, soft yet concerned, held you, too. It was like he was trying to tell you, without saying a thing, that he was here, that he would shoulder the weight of this even if you couldn’t.

Time seemed to stretch, each minute dragging on as though the weight of what had happened too was too much for the clock to bear. Minutes felt like hours as you and Hotch remained there — silently waiting for your mind to catch up.

You could feel the rise and fall of your own breath as you began to regain consciousness, shaky and uneven, while Hotch remained still. You stole a glance at him, the soft glow of the lights catching the flicker of concern in his eyes, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed beyond this.

After what felt like an eternity, movement outside the car caught your attention. Through the distorted haze of flashing lights and shadows, you saw Morgan approaching, his stride was purposeful — obviously searching for Hotch — his face was etched with a seriousness that made your stomach tighten. His eyes flickered briefly between you and Hotch as he came to a stop just outside the passenger door.

“Hotch,” he said, trying not to alert you to any of the findings forensics had found.

Hotch hesitated for a moment, his hand tightening around yours before he finally let go. The warmth of his palm slipping from your grasp felt like a sudden, chilling loss, and you fought the instinct to reach out again. He stood, straightening his tall frame as he reluctantly stepped away, he shot you a glance, as if to silently reassure you that he wasn't far, that he’d still be there even from a few paces away.

Your gaze followed him as he joined Morgan a few steps from the car, his back now partially turned to you. Even with the distance between them, you could see the taut line of his shoulders, the way his body remained rigid with tension. The concern that had softened his face when he held you seemed to harden again as he listened to Morgan, his eyes darting back to the crime scene, then flicking briefly toward you, making sure you were still okay.

From where you sat, you couldn’t hear all the words they exchanged, but the tension of their conversation hung in the air, you could sense it even from afar. Hotch’s jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides as he absorbed whatever Morgan was telling him, his facade of leadership slipping back into place. But before he fully immersed himself in the chaos outside, he cast one last look over his shoulder, his eyes locking onto yours for just a second longer than necessary, as if to remind you — I haven’t forgotten about you.

Morgan was already in full investigation mode, his brow deeply furrowed as he stole another glance back at the crime scene, where the forensics team was still methodically combing through every inch of evidence under the harsh glare of floodlights. The flashing red and blue lights cast a glow over the area, their shifting colors reflecting off the glass of the SUV, throwing fleeting shadows across both men’s faces.

"Talk to me," Hotch’s voice was quiet, and controlled, trying to make sure you wouldn't hear any of their conversation. He crossed his arms, posture rigid, every ounce of his attention locked onto Morgan.

Morgan exhaled, his hand scraping over the back of his neck in a gesture that managed to reveal the gravity of the situation to you. "Forensics team’s been working the scene for the last fifteen minutes," he started. "The ice pick — it's clean. No prints, no identifiable traces — no nothing. Whoever did this, they knew what they were doing." He paused. "But Branson didn’t go down without a fight. He's got defensive wounds on his hands, a struggle for sure. This wasn’t quick."

Hotch’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with the implication. "He fought back?" The question hung in the air.

“Yeah,” Morgan nodded. “It just wasn’t enough. By the time anyone got here…” His voice trailed off, his gaze shifting toward the door where Branson’s body had been — now on its way to the morgue. The area was marked off with police tape now. “He was already gone.”

Hotch shifted his weight slightly as he processed the information. “Anything else?” he asked.

Morgan’s eyes darkened further, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he shared the next piece of the puzzle. “There is one more thing. The coroner estimated the time of death based on the blood, the body temperature, and rigor mortis. Hotch…” He paused, taking a breath as if preparing himself for the words about to spill from his mouth. “Branson was alive an hour ago. An hour.”

Hotch'ss gaze flicked to you for a brief second, still sitting in the car. He felt the air grow thick with tension around him. An hour meant that the unsub was still nearby, potentially even watching them right now. He could almost feel the clock ticking, each second dragging as they raced against him.

“An hour,” Hotch repeated, his voice low, barely above a whisper but brimming with restrained anger — mostly anger on the situation that this would put you in.

“Yeah,” Morgan confirmed. “Whoever did this — it wasn’t some random break-in, man. They knew what they were doing. They were fast, precise, and they left that message on the door just for her.”

Hotch inhaled deeply, his mind already racing through potential scenarios and calculating their next steps. The meticulousness of the crime screamed intent, a calculated plan rather than a spur-of-the-moment attack — but he still couldn't shake the feeling that this was supposed to be you, not Branson. The thought sent a chill down his spine. He glanced at you again, sitting in the car with a dazed expression. You had just missed Branson’s killer, and the idea that he might still be nearby sent adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“We need to get her out of here, now,” Hotch said, his voice clipped, each word felt sharp as they rolled off his tongue. He could feel the urgency pulsing through him, a powerful instinct urging him to act before it was too late. “Have the team sweep the area, and I want surveillance from every corner of this block sent to Garcia.” He knew they couldn’t afford to underestimate the killer’s capabilities.

Morgan nodded as he absorbed Hotch’s command. “Already in motion. We’re pulling footage from all nearby cameras.” He turned, his mind already racing through the logistical challenges, mentally preparing for the immediate task of gathering intel.

Hotch’s eyes stayed locked on you, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the full scope of how close the danger had been — how close it still was. “She’s not safe here,” he murmured, more to himself than to Morgan. “Not until we figure out who’s behind this.”

“I'll take her back to the BAU,” he decided, his voice steadier now. “We can keep her safe there while we investigate. I want someone with her at all times — she deserves protection until we can ensure she’s out of harm’s way — I'll take the first shift.”

Hotch gave a curt nod, his protective instincts in full gear, as his mind shifted back to you and what needed to be done next. You weren't going to like it though, he knew that much.

Hotch slid into the driver’s seat, the familiar contours of the car offering him a semblance of control in a world that had quickly spun wildly out of it. The engine rumbled to life as he turned the key, shattering the silence that had settled around you. As he pulled away from the chaotic scene, the flashing lights of police cruisers faded into the distance behind you, but the weight of everything still pressed heavily on your chest. The bright colors, usually a beacon of help, now felt more like a reminder of the nightmare you had just escaped.

You sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out at the darkened streets, lost in your thoughts. The night felt surreal.

As the city blurred past, memories of Branson began to flood your mind — his expressions, the way he relentlessly pushed you to your limits, and those moments when his frustration spilled over into harsh words. You could almost hear him now, his voice echoing in your thoughts, the biting criticism ringing in your ears. “You call that a spin? You need to push harder, or you won’t make it to sectionals.” You knew he never meant it like that, only wanting to push you to perfection.

The sting of his words had cut deeper than you realized, a reminder of the high expectations he had set for you and the relentless pursuit of excellence he embodied. But now, in the wake of his tragic end, those very words morphed into haunting echoes of regret. Guilt washed over you like a cold wave, relentless and overwhelming. What had you missed? Were you the cause of this?

You replayed every interaction, every practice session, scrutinizing your memories for clues, for hints that could have warned you of the danger. Each laugh shared, every supportive word felt tainted now. The more you thought about it, the more the guilt clawed at you, a heavy weight settling in your stomach, twisting tighter with every breath.

Had you truly been so absorbed in your own aspirations that you failed to notice that someone had been creeping around in the shadows?

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, blurring your view of the city. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the swell of emotions threatening to break free. Branson deserved better, and you felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility as if you could have somehow altered the course of events if only you had been more aware, more present.

A sharp exhale from Hotch broke through your reverie, drawing you back to the present. “Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at you briefly before refocusing on the road ahead, his grip tightening on the steering wheel slightly.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the word feeling hollow as it left your lips. Even as you spoke, the image of Branson’s lifeless body remained etched in your mind.

“I just... I can’t believe he’s gone,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the rawness of your grief. “I don’t understand how this could happen. What did I miss? Who did this?” You wanted answers, a reason, something that could explain the senseless violence that had ripped your world apart.

Hotch’s brow furrowed with concern as he drove, his focus unwavering. “You couldn’t have known what was coming. This isn’t on you.” His voice was steady, almost like a lifeline amid the turmoil. But the reassurance felt distant as if it were meant for someone else, someone who wasn’t grappling with the painful reality of loss.

You turned your gaze out the window, watching the city lights flicker by. Deep down, you knew Hotch was right; you hadn’t seen the signs, but that didn’t erase the guilt gnawing at your insides.

“What if I could have helped him?” you asked softly, more to yourself than to him. “What if I could have changed something? What if I had been here just a moment earlier?” The ‘what ifs’ were suffocating, spiraling into a vortex of self-blame and sorrow.

Hotch’s hand shifted slightly on the wheel as he considered your words. “You’re not a mind reader,” he replied, his tone was firm but gentle — he was always gentle with you. “You were focused on your training, on your goals. There was no way you could have anticipated this.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “You have to remember that you did everything you could in your capacity. Sometimes, evil acts without warning, and it’s not something you can control  — Besides if you'd been here earlier, I'm not sure we would be having this conversation right now.” Hotch hated to speak those words, but he needed you to know that there was nothing you could've done.

The weight of his words sank in, but the guilt still gnawed at you relentlessly. Had you failed him? You still couldn't shake the feeling that you should have done more, seen more.

“Branson’s death is on the person who took his life, not you,” Hotch said, “He was in a dangerous position, and whatever conflict he had, those were between him and whoever hurt him. You didn’t cause this.” Hotch didn't want to admit the real truth behind Branson's death, he couldn't, not when you were this distraught.

You nodded, but inside, the turmoil raged on. “It just feels so unfair,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “He was always so strong. I thought he could handle anything.”

“Right now, you need to focus on staying safe,” Hotch continued, “I'm taking you to the BAU for the night. You need to be out of the public eye until we figure out what’s going on. The last thing we want is for you to be targeted next.”

You felt a swell of gratitude toward Hotch for his unwavering commitment to your safety, but anxiety fluttered in your chest. “What if they find me? What if—”

“They won’t,” Hotch interjected, “I'll make sure of it. The team is already mobilizing to ensure your safety, and we have protocols in place for situations like this.” His confidence provided a flicker of hope.

His protective tone gave you a sense of comfort, but the lingering shadows of doubt remained. How close had you really come to danger? The realization that you had missed the killer — maybe only by mere seconds — sent shivers down your spine.

As Hotch turned down a quiet street, you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. “Thank you for being here,” you said quietly, the gratitude spilling from your heart. You knew that the gravity of your situation wasn’t lost on him; he understood the stakes far too well.

He nodded, his focus unwavering as he navigated through the darkened roads, the steady rhythm of the engine creating a false sense of normalcy. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he replied, “We’ll figure this out together. One way or the other.” You leaned back in your seat, trying to absorb his words.

Hotch took a sharp corner, the familiar outline of the BAU building looming ahead like a fortress amidst the darkness of the night. A swell of unease twisted in your stomach.

“Hotch, I don’t think I need to go back there,” you protested, your voice wavering slightly, betraying the fear that lingered just beneath the surface. “I can stay at my apartment. I’ll be fine. I promise.” The thought of returning to the very place that had become a backdrop for the whole case sent chills through you, and you desperately clung to the hope of finding safety within your own four walls.

Hotch’s gaze flicked to you as if he had already anticipated your objections. “No, you’re not fine. Not after what happened tonight.” His voice was firm. “I need you to understand this isn’t just about you feeling safe; it’s about your safety. The unsub is targeting people close to you, and we can’t take any chances, not when you've outright been threatened on your own doorstep.”

“But I can handle this! I’m not a child,” you insisted, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. You hated the feeling of being trapped, like a bird caged against its will, desperately flapping its wings to escape. The independence you had always prided yourself on felt stripped away, replaced by a suffocating sense of helplessness.

“Believe me, I know you’re not a child,” Hotch replied, his tone suggested that he understood your frustration but wouldn’t back down. “But the facts are clear. Branson was murdered in your doorway. You need protection until we get a handle on this.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you said, your voice quieter now, revealing the vulnerability you were struggling to hide. “I can’t keep you away from your work.”

“You’re not a burden,” Hotch said. “You’re my priority. We can’t afford to let our guard down, especially when you’re in the crosshairs of someone who’s already proven they can kill — multiple times.”

You glanced out the window, the streetlights flickering slightly. As much as you wanted to argue, deep down, you knew he was right.

“Just for tonight,” you complied, the words tasting bittersweet as they left your lips. “But I don’t want to be locked up like some kind of prisoner.” The image of being confined within four walls, stripped of your freedom, sent a shiver down your spine.

Hotch’s lips twitched into a smile. “I understand,” he replied, his eyes were full of empathy as he looked at you. “This isn’t about taking your freedom away; it’s about ensuring your safety. You’ll have space, and we’ll keep things as normal as possible.” His promise resonated with you, yet the fear of losing control over your life lingered like a ghost in the back of your mind.

As he parked in the parking garage of the BAU, Hotch turned off the engine, and a heavy silence enveloped you both for a moment. He seemed to sense your apprehension, his eyes softening as they met yours again. “Let’s get you inside,” he said gently, reaching over to squeeze your hand in a gesture that was meant to comfort you.

Stepping out of the car, the chill basement wrapped around you. The cold seemed to seep into your bones. Hotch fell into step next to you as you made your way through the concrete confines of the parking garage, the low hum of distant machinery and flickering fluorescent lights overhead punctuating the silence.

When you finally reached his office, Hotch unlocked and opened the door and gestured for you to step inside. The warm light from the lamp in the corner illuminated the space, softening the sharp edges of his furniture and making it feel a little less foreboding. You walked in, your body feeling heavy with exhaustion as if each step required immense effort. Hotch closed the door behind you.

“Are you hungry or thirsty? I can grab you something,” Hotch offered, concern etched on his features, his brow slightly furrowed as he studied you. He didn't know what he was looking for.

You shook your head slowly, fatigue weighing heavily on your eyelids and limbs. “No, I’m okay. Just… tired.” The admission felt like a weight lifted, but it was also a reminder of how drained you truly were from the emotional turmoil of the night.

“Why don’t you lie down on the couch?” he suggested gently, glancing over at his couch. The soft fabric looked inviting you thought. “It’s been a long night.”

As he moved to grab a blanket from the lower drawer of his desk, you nodded, grateful for the opportunity to rest. The idea of sinking into the softness of the couch felt like a small oasis. At least it was better than nothing. You crawled onto the couch, the gentle fabric cradling you as you settled in, letting out a small sigh of relief.

Hotch returned with the blanket. He draped it over you with a care that spoke volumes. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling the warmth envelop you like a protective cocoon, easing some of the tension that your body still held onto.

He paused for a moment, studying you. You could see the concern carved on his face. “You really should try to get some sleep,” he urged softly, his voice was soothing. “I’ll be just outside if you need anything.”

As he turned to grab some files from his desk, you felt a sudden rush of vulnerability wash over you. You stopped him, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke. “You don’t have to go. I don’t mind if you work while I sleep.”

Hotch turned back to face you, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and you noticed how the tension in his features began to ease as he processed your request. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to have you here,” you replied, settling deeper into the cushions.

“Okay,” he replied, his smile growing warmer and more genuine. He placed the files back down on his desk, the clatter of paper breaking the silence. Then, he took a seat in his chair, he felt close enough that you could still sense his presence without the pressure of conversation.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you murmured, the words barely escaping your lips before sleep began to pull you under.

“Goodnight."

As you drifted off, Hotch couldn’t help but steal glances at you. He watched as your eyelids fluttered, surrendering to the exhaustion. Your breathing became slow and steady, and for a moment, you almost seemed peaceful despite everything.

His mind raced with thoughts of Branson, and the danger still lurking in the shadows, yet here, in this moment, all he could see was you. He found himself entranced by the way the blanket hugged your form, how your hair fell over your face in soft strands.

As he tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him, he realized he was completely forgetting the files he had intended to work on. Every time he glanced at you, the contents of the documents seemed to fade into the background. He leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips as he took in the serenity of the scene before him.

Hotch found solace in knowing you were safe, even if just for the night. He would do everything in his power to ensure that it stayed that way.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was how stiff your body felt, your muscles tight from hours spent curled up on the couch. What had started as a comfortable escape from the night’s events had become a reminder of how unforgiving furniture could be as a resting place. You stretched gingerly, feeling the pull of your sore limbs, each movement was stiff. Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking as the soft, golden light of the rising sun filtered in through the large windows on the opposite end of the room.

The office was quiet. You blinked a few times, the world around you coming into focus. The blanket Hotch had given you was still wrapped snugly around your body, providing some form of comfort, if not against last night's event, then at least against the lingering chill in the air.

As you sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glanced around the office. It felt strange to be here, so close to home yet so far. And somehow still feeling safe within the four walls of Hotch's office. The lamp on his desk was still on, casting a soft glow around it, and you realized he must have stayed nearby the whole night. The thought brought a small smile to your lips, knowing he hadn’t left you to face the fear alone.

Glancing around, you shifted your legs off the couch and stood, still cocooned in the blanket. The office was cold, making you wonder if they turned the AC off during the night, it made you shiver as you padded toward the door in just your socks, your shoes abandoned somewhere by the couch during the night. The quietness of the office felt almost surreal, especially when you were used to the constant sound of keys being tapped, papers being shuffled and phones being answered. You hesitated for a moment with your hand on the doorknob. Part of you wanted to stay hidden away in the relative safety of Hotch's office, but the pull of needing to know what was happening outside, to know if there was any news about your case pushed you forward.

With a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The familiar scent of coffee and paper greeted you. The office was mostly still, not a lot of people had shown up for work yet you presumed. As you glanced toward the bridge that overlooked the bullpen, you spotted the lights on in the conference room, telling you the team had presumably already gathered, likely debriefing or strategizing about the night’s events — hopefully.

Your stomach tightened at the thought of joining them — you wanted to know what was going on, yet frightened by the idea that the killings were turning into a sick game on a far larger scale. You lingered for a moment outside of the door, wrapping the blanket tighter around your frame.

But there was a tug in your chest, a need to know. A need to understand what the next steps were. You had been too close to the danger, too close to losing everything, and now the questions that had plagued you all night demanded answers. You took a deep breath and walked toward the conference room.

Your steps were slow and quiet, the soft padding of your socks barely making a sound against the floor. You felt oddly detached from everything around you — groggy, bones achy, and still mentally processing everything.

Through the glass in the door, you caught sight of the team, their expressions grave as they pored over the case files. Papers were scattered in every direction, and from the tense looks on their faces, you could tell they were deep in conversation.

Hotch stood at the head of the table, and though his back was to you, the familiar sight of him, so composed and in control, offered a sense of reassurance. It was strange how someone you didn't really know could be a pillar of strength in a moment when everything around you felt like it was crumbling.

You paused just outside the door, unsure if you should intrude. They were clearly in the middle of something important, and the last thing you wanted was to be a distraction. Exhaustion still clung to you, making your body feel sluggish, your mind slow to fully wake from sleep.

You watched them silently, your mind racing through the events of the previous night. It left a sick feeling in your stomach, and you closed your eyes briefly, trying to shake the images away.

A part of you longed to join them in the room, to step into the conversation and hear for yourself what they’d discovered. But another part of you — the part that was bone-tired and emotionally drained — wanted nothing more than to retreat to Hotch’s office, crawl back onto the couch, and hide away from the word in your blanket.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced back at Hotch. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. You knew he was doing everything in his power to keep you safe. For now, that had to be enough — right?

Despite your hesitation, curiosity gnawed at you. You had to know.

With a deep breath, you gently pushed open the door open, hoping to slip inside unnoticed. The conversation sounded intense as you entered, and you instinctively tried to make yourself as invisible as possible, not wanting to disrupt their work. You hovered by the door, watching as they analyzed the spread of documents, their minds already far ahead, piecing together the puzzle of the case.

"The unsub never cared about Branson. He was always after Y/N," Hotch said, his words cutting through the room like a blade. The certainty in his tone made the atmosphere shift. "She was the target from the beginning."

Your body went stiff, a wave of terror washing over you as the meaning of his words hit you. Every muscle tensed, heart hammering in your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, the room seemed to close in around you.

"What?!" The word tumbled out of your mouth, laced with panic. It wasn’t just a question — it was a plea for this to somehow be untrue.

The world slowed for a beat, and as your voice echoed through the room, every head turned toward you. The expressions on their faces mirrored your shock and disbelief, but none of them said a word.

Hotch’s voice cut through the room, sharper and more commanding than you'd expected. “What are you doing up?”

“I just... I wanted to see if you’d figured anything out,” you said quietly, your voice sounding smaller than intended.

"Y/N," Hotch began, his tone much gentler now, "the evidence points to the unsub targeting you specifically. Branson’s murder, the message on your door — it was all meant to scare you, to make you vulnerable."

You blinked, trying to process what he was saying, but the words made your legs feel weak. The killer was after you, not Branson. Everything was about you. A chill ran down your spine as you remembered the blood-soaked message on your front door.

"Why?" you managed to choke out.

Hotch took a step toward you. "We’re still working on the motive, but this isn’t random. Whoever this is... they know you."

You felt like the floor had dropped from beneath you. Your mind raced with the implications — who could possibly be after you like this? Why?

Hotch's eyes never left yours as he carefully laid out the pieces of the profile. "At first, we thought Leah was the target," he explained, his words clear yet heavy. "But it became clear that she was never the unsub’s endgame. Leah was used as a pawn — to isolate you, to send a message, and ultimately to draw you in."

You blinked, struggling to absorb the gravity of his words. The cold, clinical breakdown of Leah's murder felt like a punch to the gut. Leah hadn't just been an innocent victim in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had been killed to get to you. The memory of finding her body at the rink flashed through your mind. It had all seemed so random, so senseless back then.

"Leah’s death was staged for you to find," Hotch continued. "The unsub knew it would devastate you, that it would leave you vulnerable. He needed you emotionally off-balance, unsure of who to trust, and it worked."

"Branson was the last obstacle," Hotch said, his brow furrowing as he pieced everything together. "The unsub knew how close you were to him, how much time you spent together at the pavilion. Branson wasn’t just your coach — he was a fixture in your life, a constant presence. The unsub needed to remove him, to sever any connection that could shield you, completely cut off anyone who might stand in the way between him and you."

The words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. You felt every gaze in the room on you.

"The M.O. has been consistent," Hotch continued, pacing slightly as he spoke. "Each victim, from the very first to Branson, was carefully selected — not randomly, not by coincidence. They were all connected to you. The unsub wasn’t targeting them for who they were, but for what they meant. Branson was just the final step in isolating you."

Your throat tightened, a lump forming as the weight of what he was saying hit you. Every life lost, every crime scene you’d encountered, was part of a sick, calculated plan designed to strip away your safety net. Leah, Branson… they weren’t just victims. They were tools, pieces of a puzzle the unsub had been meticulously constructing around you.

"But why me?" you managed to ask, your voice on the verge of breaking. "Why go through all of this just to get to me?"

Hotch took a deep breath, his expression softening. "We’re still working on the why," he admitted, "but what we do know is that the unsub has a fixation on you. Whether it's personal or something more symbolic, you're the one he want. He's most likely been watching you, planning this for a long time."

Hotch turned back toward the board, the photos of the victims now arranged in a way that made their connection to you painfully obvious. Leah, Branson, and the others — each face staring back at you. "This unsub has one goal — to get to you."

You could feel your legs trembling beneath you. It wasn’t just about being in the wrong place at the wrong time anymore. It had always been about you.

It had always been about you.

When the meeting finally adjourned, you slipped out of the room without a word, unnoticed by the rest of the team. Your feet moved on autopilot, carrying you toward the nearest exit, seeking the open air before you even realized what you were doing. The moment you stepped outside, the cold wind hit you. It cut through the blanket, sending a shiver down your spine, but the chill was a welcome contrast to the suffocating weight pressing on your chest.

You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself as if the pressure might hold you together when everything inside felt like it was unraveling. You pressed your back against the nearest wall, seeking support as your legs threatened to give way beneath you.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke through the silence. You opened your eyes to see Hotch stepping toward you. He stopped a few feet away, keeping a respectful distance, his hands buried in his pockets. The quiet between you was heavy, almost tangible as if both of you were waiting for the other to speak first.

“Y/N,” he began softly, his voice cutting through the air. “You’ve been quiet today. I wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay. I know this is a lot to be thrown into, and I can tell that it’s weighing on you.”

“I just…” You hesitated, your voice trembling slightly as you fought to put the emotions into words. Admitting it out loud made it feel more real, and you weren’t sure you were ready to face that. “I can’t help but feel responsible, Hotch. If I had been more aware — if I had paid more attention to what was happening at the rink — maybe I could have prevented something.” Your voice cracked at the end.

“I don’t know how to process this,” you finally admitted, the confession slipping from your lips in a whisper, barely holding back the flood of emotions threatening to spill.

Without hesitation, Hotch stepped closer. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Y/N,” he said. “You had no way of knowing what was happening. Leah and Branson’s deaths aren’t on you.”

Despite Hotch’s reassurances, the guilt still clung to you. "But I trained with her, I was there, and I missed all the signs. If I had just noticed something — anything — I could’ve helped," you murmured. The image of Leah’s face, her laughter, how she would light up once stepping onto the ice. The more you thought about it, the more it felt like you had failed her.

Hotch’s expression didn’t waver, but his voice dropped, taking on a more personal tone. "We all miss things sometimes," he said. "Even when we’re right in the middle of it, even when we're trained to see it. Believe me, I know how hard it is not to carry that burden. But you’re here now, and you're helping us piece this together. That's what matters."

You looked away for a moment, tears stinging at the back of your eyes as you fought to hold them back. His words were kind, but the pain of losing Leah — and the fear of losing more people you cared about—was still raw.

"I just don’t want to let anyone else down," you whispered, your voice so quiet it barely rose above the wind.

You could feel the warmth of his presence beside you. "You won’t," he said softly. "We’re in this together, Y/N. You’re not alone in this fight."

“None of this is your fault,” Hotch continued. “You've done everything you could to help us, and you’re still here — That’s what matters.”

You nodded, your head moving almost on its own, but inside, the doubt still lingered. The truth of Hotch’s words felt distant, buried beneath the crushing weight of your thoughts. “It just feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff,” you murmured, trying to paint him the picture you were experiencing. The words spilled out before you could stop them. There was a tremor in your voice, although small it was undeniable. “And I can’t see what’s below. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“I know what it feels like to be on that edge,” he said, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard. “To feel like the ground’s going to give way, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. But you’re not standing there alone.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak, but you managed a quiet, “How do you deal with it?”

“You focus on what you can control,” he said finally. “The people you can protect, the steps you can take. And you lean on the people who are there for you.” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not facing this alone, Y/N. We’re going to stop him. I promise you won’t lose anyone else.”

His words wrapped around you like a safety net. You hadn’t expected his sincerity to reach so deeply, and as it sank in, a strange warmth pulsed through your chest — a stirring that went beyond gratitude. His reassurance should have brought only comfort, but there was something more layered within it, a growing tension between you that you couldn’t ignore, something that had lingered in each shared glance, simmering just below the surface for weeks.

Every word he spoke felt like it drew you in, pulling you into his orbit. It was almost unnerving, the invisible connection weaving between you despite your circumstances. And yet, it also felt steady — something constant amid the whirlwind.

You looked at him, taking in the seriousness in his expression, his posture, the way he seemed so prepared to protect you from anything — and yet also so keenly aware of the risks. The thought made your heart ache.

In this moment, with the two of you standing just inches apart, it felt as though the case had created a connection that you could no longer deny. Every word, every glance between you held a gravity that went beyond the investigation. You saw it in his eyes.

You felt the urge to speak, to break the silence, but the words caught in your throat, held back, like you couldn’t quite articulate what you wanted to say. Instead, you let out a quiet breath, one that seemed to say everything you couldn’t.

Hotch’s hand twitched at his side as if he, too, was grappling with the pull between you, resisting the instinct to reach out. You could feel his restraint, the careful way he held himself, aware that even the smallest movement might tip you both over an invisible line. There was a sense of inevitability, of something that had been building for far too long, yet held back by professionalism.

You watched his breath escape into the cold, hanging between you. For just a heartbeat, his normally guarded expression softened, and in that fleeting vulnerability, you glimpsed something raw, something he’d worked so hard to keep hidden. There was a gentleness beneath the intensity of his gaze, a silent acknowledgment that you weren’t just another civilian to protect, not just a responsibility to bear.

His dark eyes held yours, searching, as though trying to communicate everything that words could never capture. Every second that passed felt like it brought you closer to some uncharted line.

The world beyond the two of you seemed to fade into a blur. It was just the two of you, bound in a space that felt like it could shatter with a breath, yet impossibly strong.

The distance between you shrank, each heartbeat a steady drumbeat against the air. Though the cold nipped at your skin, you could feel the warmth radiating from him, almost magnetic, pulling you closer. The faint scent of his cologne mingled with the crispness of the air.

“Hotch…” The word slipped from your lips, softer than you’d intended. His gaze held yours, and in it, you saw everything — the worry, the protectiveness, the tension — everything.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding, and almost without realizing it, you leaned just a fraction closer. The smallest movement, but it felt monumental. Hotch’s hand brushed the side of your arm, his touch controlled yet hesitant as if testing the waters. The warmth of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver through you.

In that brief, suspended moment, it felt like everything you’d been holding back — every unsaid word, every hidden glance, every moment of shared silence — they aligned.

And then — the sharp, intrusive ring of his phone shattered the quiet, piercing through the stillness like an alarm.

In an instant, the spell broke. The warmth between you dissipated, replaced by a jarring awareness of the space you now stood in — the same world you had briefly left behind. Hotch blinked, and you saw his expression shift, the softness in his eyes vanishing as his features hardened, slipping back into the familiar armor of his professionalism. He released your arm, his fingers trailing away, leaving only the faintest sensation of warmth that seemed to fade too quickly.

With practiced efficiency, he pulled the phone from his pocket, glancing down at the screen as his shoulders straightened and his jaw tightened. The moment — fragile and fleeting — was gone as if it had never been, as if the connection you’d felt just seconds before had been nothing more than a daydream.

You exhaled softly, feeling the chill settle over you once more. The air felt colder now, sharper, biting against your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly aware of the emptiness left behind, as Hotch lifted the phone to his ear, his voice low and commanding as he responded.

"Hotchner," He replied as he answered the phone.

Hotch's expression shifted in an instant. He didn’t need to say a word; the two of you moved in sync, instinctively heading toward his car.

“I’ll drive,” he said, his tone commanding but not unkind.

You hesitated for a split second, catching the hint of concern lingering beneath his steely resolve. “Hotch, you know I would have gone either way, right?”

He gave a slight nod. “I know. Which is exactly why you’re coming with me.” His jaw set as he started the engine, adding in a tone just above a murmur, “It’s safer this way.”

As you neared the rink, the darkness in the sky seemed to darken the closer you got, and Hotch’s hands tightened on the wheel. He cast you a sidelong glance, his eyes steady and serious. “Stay close to me. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

You nodded. “Got it. Right beside you.”

He exhaled, his grip on the wheel loosening just a fraction. “Good.”

As you entered the rink, the scene that unfolded felt like stepping into a nightmare. The quiet space was transformed into a tense, chaotic tableau. Clusters of staff and coaches huddled together, their hushed voices forming a low hum that seemed to vibrate with barely restrained fear.

As you moved further in, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the anxiety that clung to the air. Some of the coaches stood with their arms crossed, brows furrowed, watching the crowd as if bracing for more bad news. Others paced nervously, their gazes darting around as though expecting something — or someone — to appear from the shadows any second now. It was as if the entire crowd had been frozen, caught in a collective breath of dread, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Hotch’s hand found the small of your back. He leaned in, his voice low. “Keep your eyes sharp. People are scared — they might not even realize what they’ve seen.” Hotch remained close by your side.

“What happened?” Hotch’s voice cut through the anxious murmur that blanketed the rink.

A staff member stepped forward, clearly shaken, his face pale and his hands trembling slightly. He swallowed, struggling to find his voice. “It’s… it’s one of the skaters. They found another body in the locker room. It’s bad… really bad.” Each word was heavy, laden with a gravity that turned the air even colder.

Your heart sank, a coil of dread tightening in your stomach as the realization hit — another life taken, another person lost. You turned to Hotch, locking eyes, the horror in his expression mirroring your own.

“Stay behind me,” Hotch instructed. “I don’t want you to see more than you have to.” His protective tone made it clear he understood the weight of what you were about to witness, even if he wished you didn’t have to. But you knew there was no turning back now; you needed to see this through.

The locker room greeted you with an oppressive silence, punctuated only by the faint hum rink cooling system in the back. The sight before you was haunting. There, sprawled on the cold, tiled floor, lay another skater. Recognition hit you instantly as you took in her familiar features. She was young, barely more than a child, perhaps no older than fifteen or sixteen — just a teenager.

Your breath hitched in your throat, the contrast of her bright skating gear against the dark, glistening pool was a sight too tragic to bear. The vivid hues of her outfit, now lay drowned in a sea of red, her innocence stolen. The room felt as if it were spinning. Every instinct screamed for you to look away, to spare yourself the trauma, yet you found yourself rooted to the spot, unable to turn from the horror that lay before you. This wasn’t supposed to happen — you barely even knew this girl — the unsub wasn't supposed to target people you didn't know — or people you knew for the matter.

Hotch’s gaze fell on you, noticing the tremor in your shoulders, the haunted look in your eyes. His concern deepened, and he quickly stepped closer, his hand resting on your arm. “Stay back,” he instructed, his voice firm but soft, gently encouraging you to distance yourself from the scene — he knew you weren't strong enough to continue seeing the horrors for much longer.

But you couldn’t move. It was as though every part of you was chained to the scene before you. You felt a chill creeping over you, a sense that you would never be able to feel safe in the pavilion again.

As the rest of the team arrived, your heart hammered in your chest. Each face that passed, each hurried glance, only served to remind you of the moment, amplifying the dread that had already taken root deep in your bones.

“Get her out of here!” Hotch commanded as the rest of the team entered the locker room, his voice cutting through the noise with an authority that brooked no argument. The tone of his command was a jolt to your system, pulling you back to reality as you struggled to comprehend the situation.

“Come on, honey, let’s go take a breath of air,” Emily’s voice was soft but firm, her hands wrapping around your shoulders as she gently steered you out of the locker room. You leaned into her touch, grateful for the solid, presence amid the storm swirling inside you. Each step she guided you felt like a small reprieve from the nightmare.

Emily gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, sensing the weight you carried. “Take your time,” she murmured, her tone was soothing. The ache in your chest pulsed with each heartbeat, and though you felt yourself moving farther from the scene, you knew that the memory of this moment— the sense of loss and helplessness you constantly felt — would stay with you, woven deep into your mind.

Emily led you to the bleachers, where the soft hum of the rink faded into the background. You sank onto a cold metal seat, your mind racing as you grappled with the surreal reality of it all. The icy breath of the arena brought a sharp clarity, but it also deepened the ache in your chest. You had always viewed skating as a sanctuary, a place of beauty and grace, but now it felt tainted, marred by the violence that had infiltrated your world. The camaraderie and support you once cherished seemed distant, replaced by an unsettling feeling of vulnerability.

She guided you to the bleachers. The muted hum of the rink felt like it receded as you sank down onto the cold metal seat — although it still rang in your ears. Emily didn’t speak, just offered a reassuring closeness, as if she understood the depths of your emotions. Deep down, a part of you feared that the pavilion — if not skating all together — wouldn't feel the same ever again.

Tag list:  @love4lando @therealbaberuthless @crazyunsexycool @pear-1206 @bookworm124 @itsmytimetoodream @c-losur3 @lumestar @evvy96 @booknerd2004 @werebearcocoon @sreidlvewrites @jazzimac1967 @gamingfeline @soyobi-wankenobi

[hell-drabbles]

Beleth 1

Summary: After a fight cut short with a random devil that thought you nothing more than a pest, you take a break outside the club. Beleth joins you and offers to have you bite into his skin to get the stress out.

(Fingers decided to write about Beleth instead. So I did. Here be the Companion biting Beleth! Also I just figured out that apparently Beleth and his king are fallen angels? I could be wrong but oh well. Here you go.)

There was this… specific closeness you felt towards Beleth. An understanding, if you will.

Something, whenever you two end up alone in any sort of area, the air between you two never fails to remind you of those late night hours behind a bar club. Where you're all tired from the atmosphere, and just need a moment of quiet where you can recharge, and someone comes out to do the exact same thing.

A kinship. Yeah that's what it was. You felt a kinship towards Beleth, with both of you caring for someone that can barely take care of themselves.

It's why it didn't tick you off when Beleth walked into your break spot in the alleyway. He's another person that pays attention to Ra-on, certainly, but there was this lack of visible and verbal annoyance at your being. You're just another person, as far as he's concerned, and that's enough to keep your temper even.

While you sat on the ground, just taking in the sky, Beleth took up position near you, also looking up with you. He fished for his box of cigarettes and popped out one. He grabbed it with his lips, flicked open his lighter and lit it up. He took one deep breath in, then out.

From the corner of your eye, Beleth inclined his head towards you.

"Want one?" Beleth leaned down, tapping the open box against your shoulder.

To be quite honest, you were a little tempted to take a drag. It's been a long day, the battle before had tensions high and the devils inside the club wanted nothing more than to dance, drink and fuck the feelings away. And not only that, but you had just come out of a fight with a random devil that said, "Aren't you glad I got that pest off of you, Solomon?"

He got a full wine bottle to the face, and the ensuing noise got all the other devils riled up enough to beating at one another. Well, at least they're having fun, and you got to avoid facing the full brunt of that devil's strength. And having Ra-on skitter right behind you certainly helped in having him hold back. Your ribs are still throbbing, however. Damn devils and their damned power.

"Quite a fight you started in there. Everyone's rowdy, having the time of their lives I bet." Beleth said with a breath of smoke slowly trickling out of his lips.

"Mm-hmm," you replied, because what else are you supposed to say? Are you supposed to be proud of it? That you started yet another fight because you can't stand to let words slide?

"But hey, that anger of yours, it's going to get ya into a lot of trouble." Like you're already not in trouble? "I'm not complainin', I reckon it's something you need to do to stay sane, given how you are, but that doesn't mean it make you safe."

"…tell me something I don't know." You were hoping he wouldn't dive into that subject. You know it's reckless. You know you can't keep this up and rely on luck to save the day once again. But you're just too stubborn. Besides, you know that the minute you go lax is the day you'll lose Ra-on forever. This stubbornness is exactly why Ra-on's been learning to say no more and more often.

"I know you got injured somethin' fierce the other day. You're still walkin' like you have a stitch in your side. And that fight you got into? Can't say it's made you any better. It's got me worried, ya know? Especially since pain just makes you angrier."

You gave a sigh, right from the bottom of your lungs. First Ra-on--whom you were barely able to divert his attention--and now Beleth? And you're pretty sure that changing the subject won't work on him.

Alright. Fine.

"So, I should just shut up them? Is that what you're telling me, Beleth?" Are you supposed to shut your mouth forever? Swallow down all your pride and anger and just take it until the situation in Hell is solved?

"Get angry at me. I won't kiss and tell."

"…really?" That's his solution?

"Yeah. Yell and scream until your heart gives out. I'll listen to your howls any day of the week. Just say the word, I'll try and be there for you, Sugar."

"That's not gonna solve shit. Don't call me Sugar." You still have to shut your mouth and behave.

"Sorry there, but it's the best I've got. You're human, right? Just gather up all that anger, call me up, and give it to me in one go. And who knows? Maybe I'll take care of some of the problem devils that have been tying you up in knots? Besides, it's better than nothing, right?"

"Stay quiet." You're too tired, too burnt out for this.

"Alright, alright."

When silence settled between the both of you, you adjusted yourself, positioning in such a way that doesn't put pressure on your ribs.

"Hey, I wanna ask you a question." Beleth suddenly says, flicking ash on the ground with a relaxed curve to his back, smiling at you with a tilt to his head.

"Hmm, shoot." What does he want now?

"Wanna make out?" He popped open another button on his shirt, letting the flaps fall open as though to entice you into taking his offer.

"No." It didn't work.

Beleth shrugged, as though very much expecting it. "Hey, worth a try."

He didn't bother closing his shirt. Instead, he completely undid his buttons and untucked his shirt. Once he was done, he leaned against the wall you were sitting against, took a slow drag in, then breathed it out. The wind took the smoke away from you.

Beleth turned to you and smiled. He tapped one of the various bite marks on his arm. "Wanna sink your teeth into my skin, then? You can pick any place you want. Even," he parted his shirt, letting the rays of the dying sun hit his well bitten chest, "here. I know you won't hold back."

"…you're really bored aren't you?"

"Hey, can ya blame me for wantin' to fill up my time? Smokin' always gets me in a certain mood."

And he smokes all the damn time, so what does that say? You're both creatures of rather bad habits.

…besides you may as well get a bite in. You've been grinding your teeth anyway.

"…you know what, yeah, fine." You stood up and patted dirt off your pants. "Let me just drag a seat or something out here. I'll have you sitting on my lap for this."

The cigarette hung between Beleth's fingers as he exposed his neck, gazing up at the sky as you dug your hands into his thin waist. You smoothed your lips over the raised skin of his scar, just taking a moment to enjoy both the different textures and way Beleth's throat bobbed with his swallow.

"That's a talented pair of lips you got there," you can hear the smile in the way he wistfully sighed, "Ya really know how to rile a devil up, huh? Taking your sweet time with me like this. Didn't ya want just a bite?"

Beleth jumped in your lap when you took a small nip, then pulled back. You looked at him square in the eyes, at that lightly flushed face, parted lips, and small annoyed crease in his brows.

"I like messing with you." Plain and simple. Beleth, to the rest of the masses, was this unshakable fallen angel that can never be pushed into the territory of annoyance. Never bothered, no matter how chaos rains around him. A near endless patience that even stretches to you. You can take your time. You trust that something won't snap in him.

Beleth chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. His hand slid down the back of your neck and guided you to his.

"Careful there, Sugar. Language like that'll get ya--"

You opened your mouth and let your teeth bite.

Stones ground underneath Beleth's shoes as he curled his legs in, his grip sliding down to clutch the back of your shirt instead. The muscles underneath your tongue tightened, Beleth's bare chest shivered against your own, and he dropped his cigarette in favor of squeezing your knee.

"Haha--" Beleth tried to get a laugh out, but the next sinking of your teeth had that quickly die into a hiss. "When you bite you really--haa--bite."

It's nice, watching the blood trickle down from the open wounds, trailing down his heaving chest and getting absorbed into the band of his straining underwear.

"Mm-hmm, like you said, I don't hold back."

"Haha, and neither," Beleth grasped his shirt and ripped it into scrapes of cloth, leaving him bare before you, "do I."

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Heyyyy I need to know what Swap!Harlequin Pomni's living situation is, and how her Caine fits into it... No reason in particular..

(Totally not for a fic I'm cooking, not at alllll)

;3

Her living situation is the fact that I was thinking: she's living in a large underground hideout (one of those war bunkers) hidden inside a broken down shed that sat abandoned for years until roleswap!Pomni and Abel found it and repurposed it for themselves. Since they're on the run, they can't exactly risk on staying on a big mansion like Harlequin!Caine does in the canon story.

On the surface, it looks like a very dilapidated bunker entrance and opening the surface entrance door would lead to an "unstable" walkway down that had seemingly collapsed in on itself, but if you were able to put in the effort of moving the "debris" out of the way, You'd realize that it's actually just a coverup to make sure the place never gets explored beyond the "collapsed" walkway. How is this coverup possible? One of Pomni's many magic tricks.

Opening the inner door and hopping onto the open elevator with barely any protective railings on it, it's layers upon layers of rooms, and there's a small open space in the middle of it all, with a tall high beam support connecting the layers to ensure that the place doesn't collapse in on itself. Caine likes to use these beams as like an obstacle course of sorts for getting up and down.

This is a rough layout on how I think it'd be, not the final look obvs but it is a start that I can improve on later down the line

There's a number of 'broken-but-still-kicking' Puppets living in this space, all being taken care of and attempted to be fixed back into their prime to give them a shot at living a life that was robbed from them. Not exactly in tip top shape, but hey. At the very least, they have a safe space away from their abusive masters, and the duo never claimed they were good at this kind of thing anyways.

Pomni does have an office, but it's significantly smaller, very homely and she doesn't spend as much time in there unless it's wanting a small enclosed space to simply smoke in, thinking of a gameplan for their current situation or figuring out what to do for the day, and the day after that. Even more surprising is the fact that Caine likes this area the most and stays in there for extended periods of time, whether Pomni is in or not. He's in a calmer state when that happens, so Pomni lets him be.

Speaking of Caine, how does he fit into all this? He just does. He's actually not as energetic as Harlequin!Pomni, being an Assassin Harlequin instead of an active fighter; he's much more toned down and surprisingly well-behaved in the grand scheme, if at all irritated at the entire situation and how he had let his guard down enough to be roped into her mess. Passive-aggressive and speaks in a low tone like he's constantly judging, which he is lmfao.

... But that doesn't mean he doesn't ask for a target Puppet to locate, capture and bring back (if he can't kill them lol) to be inaugurated to Pomni's cause. He's still acting on directives like a normal Puppet would.

He does find out one day that he has a knack for making/fixing mechanical things, after finding Abel's pathetic attempt to reverse engineer an old mechanical wonder. This newfound passion of his could occupy him for hours (or days usually) on end, and frankly? it's nice to have peace and quiet instead of him going off on her ear about how the whole place is a damn OSHA violation completely.

Even goes to the extent that he knows the ins and outs of a Puppet body like an expert surgeon would with the body of their patient, which... Pomni finds quite interesting because as far as she knows, there's only one person in her eyes who could be a natural at something like that.

[floret-affini-research]

RESEARCH LOG 015

RESEARCHER M. Arum

AUDIO FILE DETECTED, LOADING TRANSCRIPT...

"This is Maria Arum, Second Floret, researcher on the relationships between Affini and their Florets. Today I will be conducting an interview on an Affini who enjoys turning her Florets into... dolls. This log shall cover the questions of the consent of the Florets in being "dollified" and how the process occurs. It will also provide a live demonstration of this happening with the Affini and a new doll. I have been permitted to conduct this interview by my Mistress, Verdianthos Arum, Fourth Bloom. Do I have your consent to record you and include you in my research? This will include giving the details of your name and the names of your Florets."

I do believe you already asked me that darling~

"Yes, but I prefer ensuring that the consent to record is also provided in the recording."

Well then, I do indeed consent.

"Perfect, in that case please state your name and the names of your Florets."

I am Laburnum Solanum, Third Bloom, and these are my darling little dolls, Erika and Grace Solanum, First and Second Florets. Aren't they just the cutest little things?~

"I... yeah, they are rather cute. Are they normally so immobile? I can barely see them breathing."

Only if they're well behaved~ They do so very much enjoy being like this, completely thoughtless and just feeling wonderful, having me play with them and dressing them up as I please~

"It is rather... interesting to see. Sorry, I feel slightly lightheaded."

Oh that's quite alright darling, just feel free to take your time~

"Thank... you. So, the process of becoming a doll? How does... all that work? Ugh, my head is too full."

Well, you're the one who should tell me~ After all, you're currently going through the process of becoming a good doll~ The process starts with some Class-H xenodrugs to allow you to slowly drift deeper into what you truly want~

"Huh? S-sorry, I'm... having trouble understanding you right now."

Awww, your poor little head must feel so heavy now~ You shouldn't have to have so many thoughts clouding your mind~ You should just take a deep breath, and let yourself

FALL

My my, you certainly are rather receptive to my words~ But that shouldn't be too surprising~ After all, good dolls shouldn't think~

"Good dolls shouldn't think"

Very good~ You're such a good doll already~ I wonder just how far you want me to push you~ Just how much you want to be a mindless little doll~

"I want to be a good doll. Good dolls don't think"

My my, if you didn't already have an owner, I would love to make you one of my precious dolls~ But your Mistress did tell me to not push my luck too far with you or you might really lose yourself~ I'm going to give you the counteragents now, and if you ever want to be a doll again, ask your Mistress and feel free to come back any time~

"I'm a good d- wh-what? S-sorry, I'm not sure what happened. I-I think I fell asleep there for a bit. Where was I?"

Oh, you already asked all your questions, but you looked so very cozy that I didn't want to wake you up~

"O-oh. Well uh, in that case, thank you for your time and for providing me with this information. I do hope you'll allow me to sit here a while longer, I can't really feel my legs for some reason. Do you have any water? I think I might still not be completely recovered from the implant procedure."

Of course, here you are darling~ And I do hope you enjoy listening to the demonstration later since you fell asleep during it~

"Oh, right, thank you. I'll go ahead and get going in a bit then. Terminate audio recording."

[exhausted-archivist]

Early Game First Impressions

I have some thoughts and critiques about it from at least an early point.

So far, being 28 hours in (and I just got my 4th companion so the time I've been in the game isn't really indicative of my plot progress) I have some general thoughts. None of them are spoilers, but to be safe, I will keep them below the cut.

Please note, these are my first impressions. I'm doing a mostly blind playthrough and I'm mostly sharing to start a dialogue but also document my feelings. Please be respectful of that and others who may comment. Also my comments on armor/clothing is going to be a whole seperate kit and kaboodle.

My main focuses based on priority to me:

Combat

Flashing accessibility issues

The Bloom effect

Character creator

Photomode

Writing (General)

Dialogue and Banter

Maps and Quest Guidance

Food Lore

Combat, Accessibility, and Bloom Render

So far my biggest complaint is related to the combat. In terms of general enjoyment, this is one of the most enjoyable combat systems in the series for me. The flow is nice, I like the UI, overall a solid 7/10 for me. Except for one thing: I hate button mashing, I cannot handle it for too long, it is a large part of the reason I've never played through dao again. I found that da2 and dai really found a nice middle ground with it. But with datv, the issues are that if I press and hold, it will charge attacks and not continuously fire them off like in the previous two games.

I also don't like how frequently my companions bark at me in combat. Lucanis yelling "Move Rook!" while I'm stuck in a corner or something has thrown off my timing and is also just kinda annoying at times. Something I also don't like when I'm trying to explore but more on that later.

Additionally, I find the rebinding of keys is way too restrictive. It is hard to find a calibration that works, it doesn't solve the button mashing, and it isn't any better for mouse and keyboard. The fact that (at least last time I tried) I couldn't rebind the keys from ASWD to the arrow keys is a huge miss to me. So, while I find combat engaging and fun with a nice flow, button mashing and the key rebinding for combat are a big con. Particularly from an accessibility standpoint.

Speaking of accessibility, while the accessibility for the game is robust (but for some features an okay attempt for a first attempt) not being able to adjust the flashing rendering is the second biggest. That is a major accessibility thing and one of the bare minimum features I've come to expect in most games. Now while at present it hasn't been too bad for me since the prologue, I do not know if it will be an issue again later on. The flashing paired with the way the bloom renders, makes the game very migraine triggering if I'm not careful.

So on the note of the bloom, it is another big con for me because it messes with my eyes. While I can remove it in photomode and see what it looks like without it, I think it could have done with less bloom and still looked good. I do like how it has an almost Dishonored texture rendering to the people. I am curious if they pushed it a little harder if it would be more interesting visually and make the bloom more effective. Not only that, but I see the vision, I appreciate it, but not really friendly to me. Which is okay, to be clear. This is one of those things where the vision is great, the execution might not be universally loved, but it is good. Sort of like Arcane (though not to that level), I will never be able to watch it because of the flashing. But I know it is still an amazing show.

Character Creator

Now, in terms of the character creator I think they could have pushed things more. I'm over all very impressed and I love what they did, the variety and extremes you can push are amazing. From a technical standpoint it is gorgeous, and I overall rate it 8/10.

On a minor point, I do wish we could adjust eye size/shape independently of the head morph as well as change the mouth shape. I also wish there were more extreme limits to the body morph. While there is an okay range for what we have, I do wish I could make a heavier set character than I have, whether they're more muscular defined (think Bull and his almost barrel chested build) or someone who is just heavy. But I also wish I could make someone who looked like Isabela in da2 proportionately. I do get some of the criticism that cropped up, though I think the way most of it was presented/worded was exaggerated because the bust and glute sizes weren't "hollywood" style.

But my biggest issue with the cc is there is not any true dark skin tones. They do not go dark enough, they get close, but I couldn't make anyone who looks like several of my family members or oc skin tones I have. This is a major con for me, because they were heading in the right direction and then fell disappointingly short. I think it likely has to do with lighting, to which I seriously think they need to work on learning to how to light darker skins. I think they also need to learn how to make and layer darker skins. They have the basics down, now they need to push it further.

I also have to speak towards the fact that it seems with the bloom rendering and this art style, they did not push things hard enough to allow us to play older characters in appearance. And because all non-important npcs are made with the same cc as rook, we are pushed to having a very small visual age range for the game. Wrinkles do not appear well or strong, and it is disappointing to say the least. It has always been a weak point in Dragon Age.

Connected to these two points, but on a much more minor note, I think having complexion cover skin texture, freckles, dark circles, birthmarks, and acne was too much. They should have had 2-3 selectors for that - and this might be a rendering, technology issue. But not being able to be freckled and wrinkled or have dark circles, falls short, and it especially impacts being able to create an older Inquisitor. This also touches on the imbalance of which they aged femme presenting characters vs masc presenting characters, but that is another post.

Moving onto the last point I have thoughts on, is the hair. While they definitely improved in the hair options, they still lean heavily one way or the other. Especially with the offset of non-qunari getting 88 hairstyles and qunari getting 33. While we no longer have 50 shades of bald, and they heard our thoughts on hair and horns being connected for qunari, the large gap between the two categories is unfair. Especially given the fewer textured options for qunari and the even fewer length variations. It also looks like some were removed from what we saw during marketing. I've also seen the call for bangs, while they aren't something I usually desire I do agree the few bang choices are a notable.

Photomode

I'm going to be blunt with this one as it is the most cosmetic of them all, I feel like there could have been more options. I love we got it, but it's pretty bare bones comparatively with others we get.

I think looking at Horizon (Zero Dawn and Forbidden West) would be a good reference for a strong photomode. CP77 if they went further. Being able to add different effects/filters or even remove some depending on where you're photomoding would go miles. Being able to remove dead enemies (that you didn't kill) would also be nice. But I think the biggest thing is the limited range that the camera can be from Rook. It likely has to do with rendering range, but I think they could have pushed it more. That's all. I've been living in photomode though, using it near constantly to be honest. Just a qol thing.

The Writing: General, Dialogue, and Banter

Off the bat, I find the writing of this game to be the most Dragon Age between Inquisition and The Veilguard. The series has always been campy and quipy. It is the same semi-serious stuff I've expected from BioWare. I do think they have improved in some areas, stayed the same in others, and got weaker in some.

One of the things I think BioWare, especially the da team, has always struggled with is hitting the sweet spot that doesn't isolate new players but also doesn't aggravate lore nerds or long time players. DA2 I think is probably the best of the series at that. But with datv, I find points of aggravation with the wording, just like I did with Inquisition when I went to replay it after having started the series from The Stolen Throne and playing all the way through to Inquisition again. I cannot decide if they have gotten better or what, however I do think the glossary is an excellent addition. Even if I argue with some of them haha.

A clear point of improvement for me so far is the line summaries. I find they are better than dai, though there are some misses.

In terms of banter, I think I'm starting to see what people have been talking about in terms of its substance. However, I don't think it is unique to datv. Rarely has banter effected anything outside that moment, especially for da2-dai. I've only played dao once so I don't know if they tied banter into main story more or not. For me, banter not having substantial effect outside the moment isn't surprising, and I don't know if that is something I was hoping would change or not. This one I think might change as I play.

I also get what people are saying about the banter erring on the side of toothless, but I only see that in like comparison to da2 where companions were brutal with each other. I would say it is the same level/as close to dai. But I'm still early and don't have all the companions. So another thing that might change when I play further.

Maps and Quest Guidance

They did a really good at fixing the dai overcorrection of maps from da2. They're compact, relatively easy to navigate, and so far a distinct lack of bears!

Though while they pulled back on one overcorrection I feel in turn that they overcorrected on the guidance/party direction banter in response to the loud feedback of dai not having enough guidance. This touches back on the companions yelling at me while I'm exploring, or the persistent markers and pop ups. While turning off some of the UI/setting elements greatly helped, and I have heard that it gets less demanding further in, it is a con for me.

Delving into maps though, as someone who is fixated on maps I have thoughts and feelings over the area maps as well as the map texutures the display as setting design. So far, I'm dissappointedwith the set design ones. I haven't seen any new ones, they reuse the map released with the Tevinter Nights and then the first Thedas map they've used since dao. Now those aren't inherently negative, but I like maps and I was hoping for more, especially at the beginning.

Food Lore

Okay, I know this is last and I said I listed these in like priority, but this one was a HUGE point for me and I wanted to end on a positive note. The food lore so far is rich, it is clearly done with some thought, there are more varieties, and I am thrilled with what I've seen. It is rich, indepth, they've added a lot more than I thought they would. So far, the location I've found to have the most rich lore is Treviso. With a nutrition specialist and Julia, the fruit merchant who's husband is allergic to alubia carilla (black eyed peas). It is something so small comparitively that makes the world so rich. I've been compiling and collecting, and I have been flooded with people sending me screencaps and dialogue snippets (without spoiling anything) and I am so overjoyed and appreciative.

[crow2222]

A quick Pid-bit drabble as I'm falling asleep myself

"I feel just about ready to sleep." Darry hummed, his eyes already had been closed for around ten minutes. Everyone had assumed he had fallen asleep already.

"Then get off your rear and go to bed." Tim laughed from the couch, currently resting his head in Paul's lap. "I might even join you, hm?"

"Wait I don't wanna go home, can I stay over too?" Paul looked up from Tim and stopped playing with the loose curl from his greased back hair. Darry didn't even have to open his eyes to know that Paul was putting on his kicked-puppy-eyes act, he always did that when he wanted something.

"Yeah, yeah stay over, let's all go then. Right now."

Nobody moves.

"Fair play. I wasn't gonna get up anyways." Darry crossed his arms, ready to call it a night right then and there on his recliner - but then the screendoor slammed opened.

"Woah hey you guys havin' a date and not invite me?"

Two-bit gave the room a playful frown before realising the mood they were all in. Utterly silent, with exhaustion written all over his boyfriends' faces.

"Not all at once fellas, not all at once.." He strolled over to Darry, and waved his hand infront of his face. Darry didn't even acknowledge he was there, the only movement coming from him was his chest rising and falling with soft breaths.

"Did he actually fall asleep?"

"No. I wish I did." He mumbled, finally opening his eyes, albeit barely.

"Come on Superman, let's get you to bed. Your mattress is real comfy I hear?"

He wrapped a hand around his boyfriend's bicep and tried to pull him up, but let go the moment he realised Darry really wasn't budging.

"You guys are a real help, hope you know that."

"We're tired too Two-bit, we were gonna head to bed but.."

"But?"

"Too tired to move."

"Oh come on! It's not even half past eleven yet, why in the world would either of you be tired? Picked up a job I ain't heard of yet?"

Paul stood up swiftly at that, leaving Tim to groan at the loss of his pillow. He got right into Two-bit's face. "You ain't one to talk, you never had a job as far as I'm aware! And so what if I don't have one? I can still be tired - from waking up at a reasonable hour. When did you wake up? 5pm?"

Two-bit clicked his tongue, "Right on the dot, too. But now that you're standin', surely you won't mind helping?"

The blondes face grew red at the realisation of Two-bit's cunning trick. "You sly fox.." He grinned, not being able to help himself from giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Fine. I'll help."

"Thought so."

Both of them grabbed one of Darry's arms, his eyes widening as he started to comprehend what was happening.

They pulled, managing to grab Darry as he stumbled foward, tripping over his own feet.

"I would've gotten up myself.."

"I've seen you asleep in that recliner more times than I can count, Darry." Two-bit got an arm around Darry and started to lead him to his room, listening to how Paul was trying to tell Tim to get up.

Two dropped Darry into his bed as they neared it, and jumped in right after him. He hooked a leg over Darry's, and buried his head into the crook of Darry's neck, who then shivered as Two-bit's cold hand found itself on his stomach.

But other than the cold hand (which quickly warmed up) Darry was so comfortable he was seconds away from falling asleep.

Until he was bounced up from his bed, that is.

He took a deep breath before opening his eyes again, and looking over to his left where Paul and Tim had appeared. Paul got an arm under Darry's head and held him close, his other arm holding Tim so he wouldn't fall off the bed. Four men in a queen sized bed wouldn't be fitting quite comfortably, but they were making it do.

Darry let out a whoosh of air, a weary smile widening on his face. He had never felt so comfortable before, even if we was squished like hell between all of his boyfriends.

"I love you."

He didn't get a verbal reply to his sleepy murmur, but he noticed that the hold both Paul and Two-bit had on him, increased. That, and another hand found itself on Darry's chest, Tim's no doubt.

Darry closed his eyes, and promptly fell asleep.