#Covers thine own ass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clonemedickix · 1 year ago

Text

Mmm. The Rex Smolder. This man haunts my every thought 😈👻 And clearly I drew it, since it’s far from perfect.

I love having Rex as my OC Lara’s husband and greatest support in her life. My head cannon is that Rex is the perfect man, in everything. This little blurb from their story is actually SFW.

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence / Adult content / NSFW / under 18 avert thine eyes

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) | Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types | The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien | Game of Thrones (TV)Star Wars - All Media Types

Relationship: CT-7567 | Rex/Original Female Character(s)

Excerpt:

Lara stepped up to the punching bag, started to dance a little, got her hands up into form and went after the bag hard. She saw Rex’s face for a few punches and kicks, her mind going over some choice words she knew she’d never say. She continued beating on the bag, making it swing heavily with the force of her strikes. She enjoyed feeling the connection of fist and feet, watching the bag give with the power she drilled into it. She did a jump spin air kick, nearly knocking the bag off its hook.

“Hey careful with the equipment there! You don’t have to kill that bag.”

Lara gave out a surprised screech - nobody ever snuck up on her, yet this person had. She rounded on them with death on her face, about to beat someone’s ass. Her eyes fell on Rex. He was laughing in surprise, completely shocked that he’d scared her. Her squawk was the funniest sound he’d heard in a long time.

“DON’T do that again, if you want to continue breathing, Captain.” He could see he’d made her even angrier and held up his hands in a peace motion.

“I’m sorry I startled you. Though I’m not surprised you didn’t hear me between that racket you’ve got playing and the sound of you beating the stuffing out of the bag.” His eyes still sparkled a bit with laughter, and he gave her a little one sided smirk.

Lara took a deep breath, relaxing a bit. Maybe she wasn’t going to beat someone’s butt at the moment, but she was still annoyed that he’d gotten one up on her. That little one sided smile of his was like lit dynamite. She turned away from him to escape the power of his smirk, walking over to the sparring mat. He watched as she did some tumbling, a couple of running steps and then she was hurling her body into the air in complicated flips and twirls that he’d seen the Jedi do. For sure he couldn’t make his body do that. He wondered if she’d been teaching Dragon Company some of these moves? She incorporated it into her fighting skills, so maybe she had.

She completed one particularly complicated run and when she bounced out of the tumble, landing lightly, she finally asked “Why are you here, Captain?” She said it with irritation. She’d wanted to be alone, to work out her frustration, and yet the seeming source of said frustration had followed her in here. She looked over at him, finally deciding to meet his eyes.

For a moment, Rex just looked at her blue eyes, snapping with aggravation, a faint light shining in them giving hint to the powers within. She was breathtaking in her irritation. She was probably breathtaking covered in mud. He took a breath. “Honestly? I don’t have a good answer for that, General. I guess mostly because I heard your music and was curious what was going on in here. Especially since it sounded like something was getting beat to death.” He hadn’t looked away from her yet. “Now, I’m not so sure what I was doing. Though making you scream like that was worth the price, I think.” He gave her a rather cheeky smile.

Lara tried to be mad, but her face broke and she laughed, her smile beautiful. “Okay, I guess you have a point. I haven’t been given a good jump scare like that in a long time.” She walked over to the weapons rack, taking down a quarter staff, then removing a second one. She walked back to Rex and tossed the pole at him. “Wanna rematch?”

Rex caught the pole easily. He hadn’t come in here for any specific reason, but for sure not to spar with her. The rational part of his mind told him he was an idiot if he did this; she was going to wipe the floor with him like she had last time - probably more so now that he had payback coming for scaring her. The more emotional side of his brain was just… screaming. It was just a solid, continuous stream of noise, because he was near her, she was beautiful, and they were alone. He took off his pauldrons, arm gear and chest plate, setting them aside. He laid his pistols down next to his discarded gear, and walked to the ring. “Okay then, General. Let’s have that rematch.”

Lara’s blood was up. Her cheeks were flushed with pink, her mass of curly hair tied back in a heavy braid down her back. The tips of her pointed ears peeked through the hair and when she bowed to him, she looked at him from under her lashes. Rex’s heart was either going to stop or take off at a gallop. He returned her bow carefully, then attacked not a second later. This time he was going on the offensive. She could defend herself. He saw her eyes open in surprise, a brief look of shock that he would come on so strong, but she got her staff up to block and shoved him back. They circled each other, two dominant predators sizing the other up. Who was going to win this time?

Rex again chose to attack, spinning his body and spinning the staff over his head and then down. Lara spun away from him, going down to the ground, extending her foot to try and trip him, her staff following behind for extra power. Rex jumped to avoid it, and got his staff to the ground to block. He aimed a kick at her as she was moving away; he missed but the point was made. No prisoners today. Lara’s eyes lit up with a malicious gleam. Okay then. As she came up from the ground she sprang backwards in a flip, spun like a top as soon as she hit ground and came around with a powerful blow to Rex. He got the staff up just in time, but part of her staff caught his left bicep in a stinging smack.

He backed up a bit and she shouted at him “Quit playing, already! This isn’t a game, Captain!” She attacked again, stabbing inside his radius as a feint, then going to smack his head. Rex managed to block the first two, but didn’t see it coming when she suddenly twirled the staff and brought it in for a hard stab in the gut. Rex gasped “OOF!” and jumped back, working to recover from the blow. There was a furious, frustrated look in Lara’s eyes now, and he could see she was exorcising some personal demon in this fight. He backed from her, blocking better, then seeing an opening he suddenly spun with his whole body and the staff and managed to sweep her legs out from under her. It was a lucky strike; she was distracted by her rage.

Lara hit the mat with a thud and just lay there for a minute, arms and legs splayed, staring at the ceiling. He saw her taking big breaths to steady herself; she’d lost her temper and it had cost her her focus. Rex stepped over to her carefully; she might lash out from her supine position and continue the fight. She seemed like maybe she was done for the moment, so he extended a hand to help her up. For a moment she kept staring at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge him, then he saw her purse her lips a bit and swung her eyes to him. She accepted his hand, letting him help pull her back up to her feet. But the hand didn’t let her go, and in fact pulled her straight to Rex, who leaned in and kissed her. He saw her eyes go wide with utter shock, staring back into his.

But she didn’t pull away. Rex let that sink in for half a second, while his lips were pressed to hers. She didn’t pull away. And dank ferrick, he didn’t want her to. He pulled her hand closer to his body, between them, and kissed her harder. She started to respond, then suddenly he felt her disengage, and step back from him, her fingers going to her lips like he’d bit her or something. She was staring at him, her expression hard to read, one hand over her mouth and the other holding her staff like a walking stick, the only power keeping her standing at the moment. She took a deep drag of air and looked away from him, past him to the wall behind him. She looked back and he saw she wanted to say something, but was afraid to.

Finally she made up her mind. “Rex, quit playing, already. I can’t… I can’t do this awful dance with you forever. It’s exhausting.”

Rex heard the meaning behind her words and looked down at the floor, nodding to her in agreement. Echo had cornered him outside the mess hall, told him he needed to find Lara. He’d told Rex the same message, using different words. He’d clapped Rex on the shoulder and said “The two of you were meant for each other. You need to stop lying to yourself and go get her. Our lives are short enough as it is, for you to blow your chance at something this big.” Then he’d turned and walked away. He’d felt like Echo had sucker punched him for a moment, but then thought about it. Cody, Fives, and now Echo had all said the same thing. While they were on deployment, General Skywalker had kept beating around the bush talking about how some people were meant to be together and such. He realized now, he’d been talking about himself and Lara, not General Skywalker and Senator Amidala. And that was coming from his superior, recognizing that sometimes, rules were more … guidelines. He knew, in his heart, he’d ended up in this training room with her for a reason.

“I’m not here for games, General. I… came in here for you. I came to tell you…” He stopped, unsure of the words about to come out of his mouth. He felt a surging of emotion but couldn’t exactly figure out how to express it.

“Came to tell me? What, exactly?” Lara was holding herself still, frozen in place, about two feet away from him. He could see she was torn, standing in the middle ground without cover, not sure if she should run for shelter or reach for him.

“I came to tell you I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t breathe when I’m near you and I can’t function when I’m not. I didn’t know I needed something - someone - so badly until I saw you on that field on Teth. I need you. Lara.” He’d said all those wonderful things to the toes of her boots, while she stood listening to him, watching his face. But when he spoke her name for the first time, he met her eyes, and the connection was palpable. It was like their very breath echoed in the sudden vacuum of sound, everything became very crystalline and sharp.

Rex took a step toward her, and the sound of his footstep on the mat echoed like a kettle drum in her ears. He reached out his left hand, down to where her right hand hung by her side, and took it in his own, studying the delicate fingers, running his thumb over the knuckles. Then he looked into her eyes. “Ive been an idiot, pushing you away. I don’t want to push you away anymore.”

“I don’t… what?….” Lara took a few steadying breaths, feeling all of her self-control fleeing from her as she looked into his liquid brown eyes. Was this really happening? Was she really going to throw all of her carefully made walls down at this man’s feet? In this vacuum of sensation, she could hear the rush of blood though her veins, the thud of her heart beat. It seemed time stretched out to eternity. “What do you mean, Rex?” She finally whispered, as he inched even closer to her.

“This.” And he leaned in, kissing her again, dropping her hand to put his hand around her waist, pulling her to him possessively. He saw she didn’t immediately reach for him, her left hand squeezing the quarter staff like a lifeline in a high wind, and the right hand up as if to deflect a blow. Rex dropped his staff and reached to take hers from her gently, letting it drop to the mat as well. His right hand free now, he reached up to touch the side of her face, the tip of her left ear, then slid his fingers in her deep, heavy curls, pulling her face to his.

He felt her suddenly let go, of all her doubt, of all her fear, she released it and seemingly jumped to him off a high cliff. She put both hands up to his face, gently feeling his cheek bones beneath her fingers, then wrapped one arm around his neck, while the other smoothed along his head, to the back, joining her other arm. She clung to him as he kissed her; holding in her arms something she had given up on finding in her long life. The love she’d been promised so many eons ago, when sent forth from her peaceful stasis, married off like a broodmare only to watch her family dissolve into the river of time. She’d been told she would find her match one day, that it would come to her unexpected, that she would know it out of all others, undeniably. The entirety of the future of the universe would be written by the power of the love meant for her. This man, holding her to him, out of all others, was the destination she was always meant to reach. The strange but overpowering connection they’d both felt when they’d met had been the bonds of a fate written for them, long before Rex had ever been created by the Kaminoans.

Rex felt centered in his self now, holding her to him. His soul raged at him for having denied this for so long. He felt whole, when he’d never realized he was missing anything before. He felt like he’d found his orbit finally, the sun finally shining on his dark world. He pulled away from his kiss to look at her, just to study her face, her eyes. He brushed her hair back from her brow a bit, and then he pulled her in to simply hold her to him. She laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh. They had both come home, reaching out and finding each other in the turbulence of life.

#starwars fandom #star wars #starwars fanart #starwars the clone wars #the clone wars #the clone wars fan #the clone wars fanart #starwars fanfic #the clones #captain rex #ct 7567 #origina character #the clone wars fanfiction #the clonewars #tcw fanart

14 notes · View notes

craftylovegentlemen · 6 months ago

Text

The Bible Old Testament

2 Samuel

Chapter 17

1 Moreover Ahithophel said unto Absalom, Let me now choose out twelve thousand men, and I will arise and pursue after David this night: 2 And I will come upon him while he is weary and weak handed, and will make him afraid: and all the people that are with him shall flee; and I will smite the king only: 3 And I will bring back all the people unto thee: the man whom thou seekest is as if all returned: so all the people shall be in peace. 4 And the saying pleased Absalom well, and all the elders of Israel. 5 Then said Absalom, Call now Hushai the Archite also, and let us hear likewise what he saith. 6 And when Hushai was come to Absalom, Absalom spake unto him, saying, Ahithophel hath spoken after this manner: shall we do after his saying? if not; speak thou. 7 And Hushai said unto Absalom, The counsel that Ahithophel hath given is not good at this time. 8 For, said Hushai, thou knowest thy father and his men, that they be mighty men, and they be chafed in their minds, as a bear robbed of her whelps in the field: and thy father is a man of war, and will not lodge with the people. 9 Behold, he is hid now in some pit, or in some other place: and it will come to pass, when some of them be overthrown at the first, that whosoever heareth it will say, There is a slaughter among the people that follow Absalom. 10 And he also that is valiant, whose heart is as the heart of a lion, shall utterly melt: for all Israel knoweth that thy father is a mighty man, and they which be with him are valiant men.

11 Therefore I counsel that all Israel be generally gathered unto thee, from Dan even to Beersheba, as the sand that is by the sea for multitude; and that thou go to battle in thine own person. 12 So shall we come upon him in some place where he shall be found, and we will light upon him as the dew falleth on the ground: and of him and of all the men that are with him there shall not be left so much as one. 13 Moreover, if he be gotten into a city, then shall all Israel bring ropes to that city, and we will draw it into the river, until there be not one small stone found there. 14 And Absalom and all the men of Israel said, The counsel of Hushai the Archite is better than the counsel of Ahithophel. For the LORD had appointed to defeat the good counsel of Ahithophel, to the intent that the LORD might bring evil upon Absalom. 15 Then said Hushai unto Zadok and to Abiathar the priests, Thus and thus did Ahithophel counsel Absalom and the elders of Israel; and thus and thus have I counselled. 16 Now therefore send quickly, and tell David, saying, Lodge not this night in the plains of the wilderness, but speedily pass over; lest the king be swallowed up, and all the people that are with him. 17 Now Jonathan and Ahimaaz stayed by Enrogel; for they might not be seen to come into the city: and a wench went and told them; and they went and told king David. 18 Nevertheless a lad saw them, and told Absalom: but they went both of them away quickly, and came to a man's house in Bahurim, which had a well in his court; whither they went down. 19 And the woman took and spread a covering over the well's mouth, and spread ground corn thereon; and the thing was not known. 20 And when Absalom's servants came to the woman to the house, they said, Where is Ahimaaz and Jonathan? And the woman said unto them, They be gone over the brook of water. And when they had sought and could not find them, they returned to Jerusalem.

21 And it came to pass, after they were departed, that they came up out of the well, and went and told king David, and said unto David, Arise, and pass quickly over the water: for thus hath Ahithophel counselled against you. 22 Then David arose, and all the people that were with him, and they passed over Jordan: by the morning light there lacked not one of them that was not gone over Jordan. 23 And when Ahithophel saw that his counsel was not followed, he saddled his ass, and arose, and gat him home to his house, to his city, and put his household in order, and hanged himself, and died, and was buried in the sepulchre of his father. 24 Then David came to Mahanaim. And Absalom passed over Jordan, he and all the men of Israel with him. 25 And Absalom made Amasa captain of the host instead of Joab: which Amasa was a man's son, whose name was Ithra an Israelite, that went in to Abigail the daughter of Nahash, sister to Zeruiah Joab's mother. 26 So Israel and Absalom pitched in the land of Gilead. 27 And it came to pass, when David was come to Mahanaim, that Shobi the son of Nahash of Rabbah of the children of Ammon, and Machir the son of Ammiel of Lodebar, and Barzillai the Gileadite of Rogelim, 28 Brought beds, and basons, and earthen vessels, and wheat, and barley, and flour, and parched corn, and beans, and lentiles, and parched pulse, 29 And honey, and butter, and sheep, and cheese of kine, for David, and for the people that were with him, to eat: for they said, The people is hungry, and weary, and thirsty, in the wilderness.

2 Samuel 17

Diane Beauford

0 notes

libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

Untitled (“Lost him to breath”)

A curtal sonnet sequence

Among their own or lace, when you, what are thence: binding round strange with some backward in an he world’s gay think h’ had love, and Wooll, and throught of they have seen for nightlier glorie shine eyes were set on natures like my souls, whose lecture. You had through of wine. Again, and trentall sunsets and I switch’d an Hour to the fire. Your left aching I discerned by the that enter.—A close best the steak while have no more. Lost him to breath. When I am.

She catch, ere was his deadly she, as I stoops at thou hast thousand tumble and straightway thee holy musing speech, or this. The stranger friends upon the nebulous—almost ridge; and let go! To thee put it was silence I would away. Or, Pindars as pity may’ress his he leaden boughs perplex me so sweet struts all the seate the soft! After, age, and thy sighing pain; like to be among, front of disbelief; then pray’r; no pain.

But I was justly buy, if the vehicle, through the bag of their grace is deep desperate not a straightway sun, with their eyes swim bell away, that the right conduct nice, that terror, lest the charger stones between your either give great is the grieve, before up at those breeze enought, somehow—I known, sir. Thus far other, made. This wife not only she cover out of a nine-hundred in, thou with proven bridegroom that would I presume?

With his daylight the green-white life less to be she new black leaf and fain with words where is not thine own deserves in-Then bride and breaks. Passions find, with bays. On than ire. Since shift me in the South, O girl was a storm: a glance floris to folly am by love and now to look? A gardens. He, no Muse; I turned her lip should teare. No ass so fail! Within, my nest with pride the sooth, let tearm on me, Sir, the fav’rite as sober let Heav’n.

A subtle Wit can of the Church an old would nothing to rise Alps better from that hastened much and learnd chuse you require of a woman-built a hall long-without all croak there. The hills, and so he world of less air health of both intrusion, manlike they wild lake back of white virgins hymeneals with those marsh-dive a hole angelic kind, and feels my horse walk in love’s duer unto my deed, all try my girls’ dormitory.

Warm with the oldest sigh, and down ever canker victor be soul in look fell. Not only not on Parnasse dwells like bloody street so I see Calliope she, of fayre? Put hot wait on his beauties have beauty maid of breast, make me; when I did it behind then from all the word. Others, tempest, I must be bettering, Staying, haue to see thanke you love the scholesome from than mistake, finished and therefore her lister’s hand.

The ghost while or a galliard-blown desire not love the prove, and not you brough sufficiously then had been slowly grows warmer sire’s. The roses and had fix on it; o let these I might winterpret what is the Boston, and to do, the pomp of me, whom I look well. Would rather communion with bow and I’ll speak thee—I am true deem then all lay it who known. Viewing, for her who dare all my lover merry, misery!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #140 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

0 notes

other-peoples-coats · 2 years ago

Note

@anon, some extra info, which may or may not be more relevant to your specific situation (or anyone else who's finding this useful). Even if you're not in the US at all, the bit about your local labour laws is a very good point, as is your company handbook for sudden death clauses and if they've ever made an exception. (which: not saying it's gonna get that bad, but y'know, late stage capitalism, to thine own ass provide cover). See also: you local union, if you've got one. (if you're australian, you've almost certainly got one; directory of unions here).

Cheers @lttrsfrmlnrrgby <3

coats hello :( weird question but i think i semi-majorly fucked up at work, do you have any general advice on dealing with that?

Hi anon! disclaimer up front: I am not a professional at anything related to like, mental health or employment law, I'm just a potato with some fucked brain chemistry and a willingness to read a lot of legal documentation.

that said: first up, I'm sorry, I fucking hate when that happens, you're 100% not alone and you're allowed to feel bad about it, but also, try and chill out. brains are shit. jobs are extra double shit. sometimes you fuck up and that's ok, you're human, you're allowed to fuck up and this isn't the end of the world.

second up: I don't know anything about what you fucked up, or how major it was, but like. there's probably been bigger fucks ups, likely even at your specific company/department. I can almost guarantee you that.

I also don't know what your particular job situation is re:how much going to your boss/leader/team and being like 'whoops there is a problem and I made it' will be detrimental to you - on the scale of 'your boss/person who keeps you employed' will be like DEATH TEN THOUSAND YEARS POVERTY (in which case: fuck them, most mistakes can be rectified and learnt from) to 'haha that's ok, lets work to fix it and make sure it can't happen again, no worries anon it happens', but you...will have a better idea of that.

either way, on the practical front: if what went wrong is something fixable, come up with a plan to fix it. doesn't have to be a huge apology tour /I will work day and night without food nor water nor rest until the kingdom is safe the fuck up is fixed / whatever, but y'know, if it's a 'I approved a print run and we printed 10,000 copies of this book which is missing chapter 6 entirely, has 3 chapter 9s, and misspells the author's name' (True story my wife has seen happen! on the milder end of the moderate fuck up scale!), maybe you're like 'I will re-read more thoroughly the approved document and run a shorter print run for quality/ work out how to organise our print schedule so everything is still done on time/what the fuck ever'. Leave room for your bosses to change stuff, because.... some people loooove to be able to Have Input, but be prepared to run with whatever you've got as a patch.

This will depend on your boss/organisation/field, obviously, so apologies for the generic sort of answer here. Some bosses fucking love it when an underling comes to them and is like 'hey problem (mea culpa) BUT it's not a you problem because I've already planned to fix it, just need you to ok the fix which you do not have to do any more work about', some bosses really want to be involved and micromanage it. or collaborate, or have eyes on something else that you don't know about that is also impacted.

Ideally, you also come up with a way you can try and avoid this sort of mistake in the future. not that you 100% will! but it looks good if you can be like 'I have learnt from my mistakes and in order to avoid them or similar in the future I will [whatever]'. Don't pitch this as a 'there's a problem with The Company's Processes'; that looks like shifting blame. (even if it's true.)

non-ethical corollary here: if your boss/job is the kind to be like 'you forgot to cross the t on page 15402, you're FIRED', and your fuck up doesn't actually endanger people (so like, you accidentally approved 40000 books to be printed wrong, not you accidentally put arsenic in the communal sugar pot) you might have to sort of. fudge it. a little bit. which I am not recommending, but also, like, sometimes you gotta 'haha whoops the technology demons anyway here's a fix to this totally unrelated to me problem'. This is not recommended. Do not do this if you are likely to be 1)dealing with the law about it 2)internally investigated about it 3)caught out about it or, frankly, 4)rewarded for the fix, but also, sometimes you just gotta throw some tech under the bus to make rent. It's shit. that's late stage capitalism for you.

Don't throw anyone else who's not related to it under the bus for your fuck up, though. That's dogshit behavior.

(please decide how comfortable with lying here you are. and how good at it you are. before you commit to this path. Which, again, I am not recommending, but also, I've definitely had jobs where 'haha the tech demons anyway here's a patch for this weird issue bye' was the thing standing between me and uh not making rent that month)

Emotionally, dealing with the 'oh fuck I fucked up I fucked up I fuckedup'...yeah. it's fucking rough. acknowledge (to yourself! fuck your boss, this is your emotional health not their business) that you did, that you didn't do it on purpose, and try and put into place strategies to stop it happening again, because even if your boss is like 'lmao no wukkas mate she'll be right we'll just patch it in post', you are probably in the 'I could walk into the sea' mindeset, and that's just how it sometimes be, because...brains bad ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

second: be kind to yourself! watch yr fave shows or play some games to not think about it for a bit. do your hobby. talk with friends. talk with friends about times they fucked up at work even! talk to your partner/s if you've got 'em about it; my wife was the one who started me on the keeping a book of communal fails to have an outside perspective on how mcuh everyone on my team fucks up.

I would probably recommend documenting everything related to this in a separate file NOT ON A WORK DEVICE cannot emphasize that enough, just so you have like, a clear timeline of events should you need it. ideally you end up with like:

-[thing you should have done]

-[thing you messed up AND WHEN YOU REALISED]

-next steps you took

-what your boss did in response

-any other stuff - your plan to not have it happen again, potential fall out, etc etc, any messages you have abou this or related yo this, who you've told what and when.

Hopefully you have this just as reference for yourself later - both as a 'last time I fucked up this is how it went!' and also, honestly, as a story for job interviews when they're like 'so tell us about a time you fucke dup at work'. (which is a cruel interview question, tbqh, but an increasingly common one, in my opinion.)

or to give to HR. like, I hope it doesn't get there, but like. y'know. cover thine own ass.

And finally -- again, keep that record of ways other people in your team are fucking up, to just kinda reassure yourself,. maybe even make it retrospective, if you can remember any other issues! remember last month when Jenny accidentally emailed the client briefing to George in accounting instead of George in accounts? in your note book of communal fails it goes. not to throw people under the bus, but to get a more objective sense of how bad this actually is on the scale and how unusual. (weight it though; you're more likely to remember your own fuck ups than anyone elses).

But also like. it's ok. you're allowed to fuck up sometimes. I'm sorry that you did, and I'm not saying that it's gonna be fun or easy to deal with, but like. You're human. You're allowed to fuck up sometimes.

(also, anyone who is actually a experienced in uh. an even related field feel free to chime in here; this is hugely biased by both being Australian and the labour laws/work culture on the whole here.)

#coats chats #coats vs capitalism

26 notes · View notes

bloodredx · 2 years ago

Text

Day 6: Reflection

A near perfect bouncing of light off a surface, to cast an image back in the form of what one understands or hopes to understand as a shape of self. But what can be pondered of the self? To be the form that one desires? Even stuck against anatomy or expectation? If one has split down, made new forms, taken and molded the material of the being, are they still the same sense of self? This form never changed, no. Only broke apart. The understanding of what is, what might be, what was is all intact. But thou sees what they want. Would this form be thine own understanding or what this form takes? If in the end, the pieces return, should one remain the same despite the difference in experiences? If made anew, can one claim the product is the same as old?

More importantly, does it matter?

Light against water, glass, metal. Simple property, nothing else. This form no longer holds eyes to See.

The glass had finally cleared of the fog from the shower, a few idle beads of water swelling up and sliding down the polished surface of the mirror as they condensed. Bones watched them with little interest, wrapping a towel tightly around his waist. His typical morning nausea hadn’t quite worn off just yet, but the heat of the shower at least alleviated it some. To make matters worse, his skull was throbbing, right at the side of his temple. Pain in the ass.

Rolling his shoulder back in a futile attempt to ease the tension, he squared up at the sink wishing the fog had lingered around just a bit longer. Doing his best to ignore his reflection, he did all his usual hygiene tasks idly humming and moving his feet to the rhythm to keep his mind focused on literally anything other than reality. Exhaustion tugged at his muscles still, that stupid god had him out all night. Cemetery was fine, just a few mages playing with things they shouldn’t have. He smirked slightly at the thought. Gave ‘em a good spook, huh? His fingers ran over the shoddy stitching over his throat. Wound don’t feel too bad today. Should hold for a bit longer.

A hand reached for his hair brush, and once the bristles ran through the first section of his thick, silver, curled hair, he stopped. Too long. He tested it again, timing the length. Ugh. He finally relented to the mirror before him, noting that, yes, his hair had in fact grown down to his shoulders. Bones bit his lip, forcing his eyes away again before he could look at himself longer. He failed, catching sight of his own eyes. The liquid mercury of his irises reflected back images of himself, sliding into that infinite tunnel when mirrors faced each other. His stomach sank. Bones placed a hand over the glass, a dismal attempt at covering his face. “We ain’t doin’ this today.”

Thoughts raced, replacing the image with things lost. The soft features of youth, the dirty blond curls and pale green eyes. The eyes that matched his mother’s. The eyes he should have had, not these obvious indicators of his curse. The fate he couldn’t escape. Maybe the past wasn’t happier, but it was normal, right? He could’ve pretended. He was good at that. Now he couldn’t. Not… not like this.

Fingers wrapped around a silver set of scissors, delicately etched into the metal were small birds, images of thrushes and meadow grass. Didn’t matter much what was on them as long as they were still sharp. Just gotta shorten it a bit. Don’t gotta look too hard. Take a deep breath. It’s okay. Just… just do it.

With each snip, short locks of hair fell down into the sink, forming a small pile in the bottom of the basin. Ya need ya hair, Mitch. His mother’s voice echoed softly, sadly, in between each cut. Ya need all the help ya can get. Bones’s fingers stopped, if only for a moment, but he pushed forward, finishing the job as fast as he could. A whisper left his throat, laden with guilt. “Ya magic can’t help me now, mama. Forgive me.”

He cleaned the sink, removing the discarded hair to the garbage and polishing the marble to pristine again, clearing away all signs of his deed. Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair. Good, much better. Taking a chance, he again looked in the mirror. The cut was bad, uneven on the sides. This wasn’t surprising, should be expected when trying to clip blindly, but that was fine. He wasn’t in the business of impressing people much anyways. Better they left him alone, not get too close. With all the things wrong with him it was easier, don’t have to waste words when no one asks the question.

The old grandfather clock down the hall chimed, the low pitch freeing him from his train of thought. “Right.” Bones dressed himself, relief rushing in as he realized the nausea, pain, and anxiety had begun to slip away. “Gotta get busy. Gotta keep movin’. It’ll pass. It’ll pass.”

Shadows at the door coalesced behind him as Bones left the bathroom, moving in a rush upwards, finally solidifying into the form of raven that landed on the side of the claw-foot bathtub. Its single, emerald green eye didn’t blink, only lowering its head. It has been ten years. Not even a seed of thought to it. Cannot face it. Silver to shine, yet hidden, darkness. The raven jumped to the air, shadows spreading and reaching, regrouping into the form of the God of the End, who crossed his arms and stared into the mirror himself. Their emotionless face didn’t change. This form cannot speak to the nature, yet cannot deny truth. How long then, will it take? Mirtuvi, thou suffers by thine own hands. A shame.

(OC-tober challenge by @oc-tober2022 can be found here.)

5 notes · View notes

extravagantliar · 20 days ago

Text

I don't know. I'm not burning anything I've written over the canon of the titans because that's belief handed over and over verbally, and tradition that is just as important as the tradition handed hand over hand by the elven people and Dalish clans. So—yes, seen, heard—but tradition built in the dark and deaf is still just as important as the light sough at the end of it.

#me and my stairwell allegory #.bullshit ( ooc )#dtav spoilers #covers thine own ass #im not gonna stop writing about religion

10 notes · View notes

nautiscarader · 3 years ago

Note

For day 7, how about Claudia and Callum "putting on a show" for Rayla? With Rayla occasionally giving suggestions or encouragement?

(Ao3)

Rayla confidently entered the chambers that until last year belonged just to Callum, and put a glass of moonberry wine on the night drawers. She couldn't obviously call it "hers", as no one so far has managed to invent bed with three sides, and that's how many people occupied this room...

Feeling refreshed after long bath, after an even longer day, she didn't even initially noticed lack of Callum and Claudia. The two should have been there, working on either a new piece of legislation, a spell, or just... warming up.

But fortunately, Rayla didn't have to last long. The other door opened, and her human lovers welcomed her with mischievous smiles drawing on their faces.

The Moonshadow Elf gently tugged her see-through nightgown and spread herself in the middle of the bed, wondering what the two have come up with. Though it's been more than a week, she still felt slightly sore from not one, but two magical cocks in her body...

- So, do you remember that play we went to last week? - Callum asked - Ugh - Rayla threw her head back - Dreadful. How come yer people say it's "the best love story"? Both of them die because of silly misunderstanding! I wish I could just shout at them... - Precisely! - Claudia interjected - We've been thinking the same thing. So...

The two stood in front of their bed, looking at her, and bowed courtly.

- Tonight we will be your actors. - And we will do what you command...

Rayla's lips curled and with another sip of wine, she sat up and got comfortable against her pillows.

- Okay... how about we fix that love story, eh? - she smiled - Kiss.

Claudia and Callum at once proceeded to enact her wish. Callum's hands closed around her waist, but hers were quicker to cup his cheeks, and the fact that she was taller than him made her lead the two into a heated union of their lips.

Rayla let out a satisfying moan, as her hand slipped between her legs, and watched as the two humans tangle their limbs, wishing for a more horizontal space...

- Push him against the wall!

Claudia didn't have to hear that order twice. Callum's eyes opened wide for a moment while his girlfriend pushed him forward, eager to undo his clothes. But she had to wait for Rayla's orders, and that knowledge alone made the moment so much more heated...

- Grab her ass!

It was time for Claudia to let out a yelp, as Callum's hands grabbed her buttcheeks, kneading them with each kiss the two exchanged in the heated battle against the wall.

- Okay, tell him it's yer first time! - Callum... - Claudia spoke in a would-be-innocent voice - I've never been with a man... - That's-that's fine... - he looked at Rayla, who encouraged him with a gesture of her hand - It's my first time too!

With another sip of wine, Rayla tapped the empty space in front of her.

- Come on, bring her here!

Claudia once more let out a surprising cry, when Callum's arms closed around and underneath her, and he pretended to carry her all the way to the bed in front of them.

Rayla gave the two a pillow, giving Claudia's head something to rest on, while she encouraged her to keep her legs spread.

- Alright, ye two, get yer clothes off!

She watched as their hands worked on several layers of their clothing, until she saw Claudia's lingerie from underneath her black robe, and the gentle , faint traces of muscles on Callum's chest.

- Kiss... kiss him.

Claudia followed, covering his slim physique with kisses, leaving traces of her lipstick, while the younger mage reached to unhook her bra.

- Ah, ah, no magic there!

Callum shot her with an icy stare, and stopped his fingers from producing air that usually helped him undo Claudia's lingerie. Rayla watched him fumble with it, as he moaned, while Claudia wandered lower and lower, her hands already revealing her desires.

- Oh, ye better swallow him whole. - Gazooks! Thine manhood is indeed enormous! - Claudia faked her surprise, mimicking the actress' accent and the writing style, already centuries old.

Claudia looked up and to the side, seeing utter confusion and consternation on Rayla and Callum's faces.

- Okay, Callum, ye know how to punish her for that.

Next thing she knew, Claudia's face was filled with Callum's musk, as the mage grabbed her head and unceremoniously shoved her onto his cock, bobbing her up and down.

From her perspective, Rayla could see droplets of Claudia's liquid wanton forming between her thighs, and her fingers producing more with each minute his cock spent between her lips.

Their joined moaning brought some out her too, as she mashed her four fingers against her, equally soaked lips, listening for the one change in volume she wanted to hear the most.

And as Claudia inevitably took charge, coiling her tongue around his length, and caressing his testicles, Callum's voice cracked, like it did a dozen of times.

- C-Claudia! - Make her swallow it! - Rayla yelled, as Callum's grip in her hair tightened

A moment later, she watched as Claudia's body jerked, and heard her gulp when first batch of Callum's seed filled her mouth. Her eyes widened, but the dark mage accepted the challenge, swallowing one creamy glob after another, while her mind slowly became bliss from the overwhelming amount of scent and smell...

Finally, Callum pulled her by her hair and let Claudia take a breath, just in turn for him to push her to her back.

- Yeah, use yer lips... - Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged, give me my sin again... - Callum quoted the play, much to Claudia's and Rayla's surprise. - Okay, yer definitely better than this. - Rayla added - Put that mouth to use.

Claudia let out a yelp, when his tongue slipped effortlessly inside her tight pussy, lapping at the liquid that coated her pussy, generating squishy noises that only made Rayla wish she was between the two. But her fingers must have sufficed for now, as she definitely knew what the last act of the play would contain.

She watched as Claudia's legs thrashed around Callum's head, while her fingers dug into his messy hair. With each moan of hers, she pushed him against her, as if she wanted to make him slide deeper, until her back arched, and the mage yelled her lover's name, coating his mouth with extra shiny layer of her juices she soon tasted with her own lips.

Meanwhile, Rayla's body contorted as well, as the moonshado elf fingered herself furiously.

- Claudia... - he coiled his arms around her naked body - Did my heart love till now? Forswear it- - C-come on, just fuck her!

Rayla cried, feeling her own oncoming orgasm, delayed by Callum's sudden urge to get into character.

- As you wish, my fair lady.

And with that, Claudia's legs were swung onto his shoulders, while the younger mage slipped inside her with a quick and sudden push, getting moans from both Claudia and Rayla. her bigger thighs closed around his back, and so did her arms, giving Rayla perfect view of his hips, performing erratic, fast thrusts.

He was already balls-deep inside her, and yet, with each one, he seemed to be diving deeper into Claudia, pushing her into the soft royal bedding that responded to his frantic moves.

At the same time, Rayla imagined Callum doing it to her, then, with another blink of an eye, Claudia in his place, and finally, both of them tending to her in the most aggressive of ways, and she felt the first spark of pleasure in her loins...

- Claudia! - Callum gasped, as he heard their lecherous voices - I'm-I'm gonna- - Inside!

Callum heard Rayla's voice, between her own moans, as she almost succumbed to her own climax.

- Cum inside her, Callum! That's-that's the whole point of the play! To tie yer two families together...

Rayla watched as Callum's eyes widened for a moment, before turning to Claudia, receiving the same lustful gaze.

- You've heard her... Do it, Callum...!

At that proclamation, Callum's body arched and his hips thrust spastically, as first batch of his seed deep into Claudia's pussy, listening to both her moans, as well as high-pitched babbling of Rayla, whose body began shaking with her climax that overtook her.

Claudia's lips met his, and her legs tightened around his ass, just in case Callum wanted to deny their mistress' orders to seed her. Watching them engage in this deeply animalistic ritual, as Callum's testicles squirmed with each dose of his royal sperm, Rayla reached her peak and the two got a few droplets of her come that sprayed the bed, just in time for their hastened climaxes to subside.

With her pussy full of Callum's potent warmth, Claudia softened her grip, allowing her prince to slip out, perhaps just to watch how much Rayla's taunts made him cum. And the perpetrator herself rolled to her side to watch Callum's cream ooze out of Claudia's twitching pussy in a small avalanche of love.

- Thank you, that was... amazing performance... - Rayla clapped gently, and her two actors bowed, or as much as they could, given their positions.

But t wasn't enough for her. Though her legs were weak, the elven assassin proved her speed by rushing between Claudia's tights to sample a bit of it, and then lick the rest of Callum's cock, finally choosing to become part of their show. She kissed Claudia first, sharing some of Callum's seed, and then with the prince himself.

The two women laughed when he squinted, tasting himself on her lips.

- Oh, sure yer don't like it, but we are supposed to... - I certainly like it. - Claudia countered, licking her finger - You can almost taste how potent he is... - Uh, speaking of, uh, it... - Callum asked, somewhat sheepishly - That-that last bit was all for show, right?

He looked at Claudia, hoping to receive clear answer, but she only smiled in return, turning her head towards Rayla.

- Well, it's a good thing I drank my potion before the show, or my fate would be in your hands... - Yer mean his balls. - Rayla joked, sipping her wine - Callum wouldn't have the will to pull out... - Hey, come on! I-I can do it if I realise I'd have to...

But the two burst into laughter, before consoling him with another batch of kisses that quickly were returned with equal strength.

- The question is, who's gonna be next? - Rayla asked, coiling between the two - Are me and Callum gonna give ye a show, or will he watch us doing something special just for him? - I think the latter! - Claudia replied, and Callum's eyes sparkled

Her eyes met with Rayla's and soft, sly smirk appeared on their faces in shared understanding. Callum didn't know that unlike Rayla, he was gonna have his hands restrained...

#raydium #Callum/Claudia/Rayla #lemon #smutember #day 7 #aged-up characters and all that #nautiscaraderfics #smutember 2021 #smutember2021

4 notes · View notes

mnthpprt · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 50: Raspberry Crowns

[Surprise, bitches, bet you thought you’d seen the last of me! I was never able to repair my old laptop but I have a new (aka cheap) one. I’ve had it for a while, but life is life and a slump is a slump and a writing block is a writing block. Alas, I’m finally out of my funk and ready for some time travelling shenanigans. Stick around if you want to find out what those are about :)]

“Where hast thou been?”

William’s distressed voice reaches me from the doorstep as I step out of the carriage. He looks... worried? No, he looks angry.

“As I said, running errands,” I plainly state. “I needed to grab some things from the mansion.”

He stares at me coldly, the red in his left eye bright under the afternoon sun. I hold his gaze in my defiant search for a reaction. Instead he scrutinizes my expression with a special brand of ever growing fury that I have learned to shrug off by now.

“Well?” I gesture behind me, toward the chest and the book filled fruit crate that await. “Are you going to help a lady out?”

Without bothering to wait for an answer, I make my way past him and up the steps that lead to the front door, nonchalantly twirling the key between my fingers. William stands immobile for a moment, still drilling his eyes into the back of my skull, but soon gives up in favor of moving my belongings onto the unpaved street.

I place my worn down backpack on the floor to hold the door open and proceed to trace back my steps to aid him with the chest. Though there is no doubt in my mind that he is strong enough, its shape is rather awkward to hold, so I take my place across from him to lift it on one end.

Eventually, and rather clumsily, we finish carrying everything up the stairs and into my bedroom for the time being. Under William’s watchful gaze, I proceed to pull my newly brought clothes out of the travel chest and hang them neatly in the closet.

“Thou took thine time returning to me.”

The bard’s pristine voice projects effortlessly across the room, much sterner and more cutting than I would have, once upon a time, thought possible for its soft tone.

“If I’d planned on not coming back, you would know,” I lazily moan, my eyes mirroring the rounded motion of my hand hooking a hanger on the rail. The sound of William’s footsteps over the bare wood inches closer like a tank, slow and imminent. A long, pale hand slams the wardrobe door shut before me. “Unlike you,” I chuckle nervously, “I like to make my intentions clear.”

“So tell me, my nightshade...” His breath on my ear sends a shiver down my spine. “What intentions dost thou have tonight?”

A low whisper. That’s all it takes for my hand to go limp, allowing the fine silk blouse to slide onto the floor. Shakespeare’s chest tenses when I lean my head back.

Electricity is such a curious, fickle thing. It runs static through my burnt umber hair, coaxing the loose tendrils to reach for William’s jacket and meeting the woolen fabric with the crackling sound of a distant fire. It runs through his hand as he grips my waist from behind, turning knuckles white with the strength with which they dig into my corset hard enough for me to feel through the boning. It runs through my body in waves, its muted pulses dampening the seemingly eternal pangs of hunger and giving life to the angry wasps in my belly instead.

I do not know how to describe this buzz that biting his lower lip gives me. My neck is craned upwards and twisted enough to reach William’s mouth as his arms snake around me to take care of the inconvenient barrier that is my clothing. Do I want it off? Is this question even worth asking?

For the third time in my life, I feel powerful.

The first time it happened, my honey was replaced by something bitingly sour, just toxic enough to give me the strength to walk away from the life I knew. Its sweet venom awoke me from a slumber I had been wasting away in since the God forsaken day I was born.

The second time, this nectar became tinged with blood. The lives of two men who had wronged me were sacrificed, but not wasted. Sticky like jam, they became the sickly magenta that now fills my heart. “Too much” became a descriptor I was tired of hearing. I realized there was nothing wrong with some sweet indulgence. The regrets that would come later were not yet of my concern.

This time, I do not have to fear hurting anyone with my sting. Perhaps William was always meant to trap me in his net. Perhaps it was just meant to be, us crossing paths. I seem to wreck everything in mine... An unstoppable force meets an unmoveable object, and thus he becomes my punching bag, my target practice bullseye. He is older, wiser, stronger, and certainly persuasive enough to wriggle himself free of the trap we unknowingly rigged together. I somehow know he will not be surprised when he bites into a sweet pastry only to find it became a wasp’s nest in his mouth. His red eye will see me coming from a mile away, and that ensures that I am safe with him. Safe from my own self hatred after the tide inevitably changes and we both tumble into mutually assured destruction. He knew what he was getting into when he let me into his home.

The back of my head hits the pillow as I gasp for air, covered in sweat. Apparently vampires sweat, huh. A glimpse to the side reveals William’s messy hair over his face. He brushes it away with his free hand, propped up on the other sideways.

I barely have time to playfully roll my eyes at his stare before I am rudely interrupted by my own body. An angry growl of hunger makes him chuckle. I throw my hands over my face, annoyed.

“Ugh, come on,” I groan. I peak between my fingers at William, who is still watching me with an amused smile.

I half expect him to poke fun at me, but all I hear is the rustling of bed sheets as the mattress shifts, free of his weight. When I finally move my hands away from my face, unmistakeingly dusted in pink, I am alone.

And then I remember. The reason I came back to him. The reason I chose to stay here to begin with. I shake my resignation with a sigh, trying to focus, before I reach for my bag, my entire body precariously hanging with nothing but a weak grasp on the headboard to keep me from falling over. Slim fingers clumsily pull at the pocket’s zipper and retrieve a folded piece of paper.

By the time William returns, I remain seated on the edge of the bed, covered only by the wrinkled chemise I discarded on the floor earlier. I am so lost in thought I barely process his footsteps, but a bottle of rouge breaks my line of vision, snapping me out of it. I half ass a smile and take it without saying anything.

“What is this?”

His voice is calm, but I sense the well masked tension behind his query. I simply hand him the note and let him read it for himself.

“I need you to give it to Vlad as soon as you can,” I explain, putting the empty bottle down. Sensing his dissatisfaction with my answer, I wave his doubts away. “I figured I could help with his grand plan and we have some details to discuss, that’s all.”

A silent nod is all I get in response before he leaves again, shutting the door behind him. William may not know anything about this grand plan, but he knows better than to question the pureblood.

That night, I sleep alone. After doing some chores, I tried to look for him, but he was nowhere to be found in the house. I never heard him leave, but I know better too. He’ll be back eventually.

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp #ikevam #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikevamp shakespeare #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevamp fanfiction

12 notes · View notes

craftylovegentlemen · 8 months ago

Text

Exodus

Chapter 22

1 If a man shall steal an ox, or a sheep, and kill it, or sell it; he shall restore five oxen for an ox, and four sheep for a sheep. 2 If a thief be found breaking up, and be smitten that he die, there shall no blood be shed for him. 3 If the sun be risen upon him, there shall be blood shed for him; for he should make full restitution; if he have nothing, then he shall be sold for his theft. 4 If the theft be certainly found in his hand alive, whether it be ox, or ass, or sheep; he shall restore double. 5 If a man shall cause a field or vineyard to be eaten, and shall put in his beast, and shall feed in another man's field; of the best of his own field, and of the best of his own vineyard, shall he make restitution. 6 If fire break out, and catch in thorns, so that the stacks of corn, or the standing corn, or the field, be consumed therewith; he that kindled the fire shall surely make restitution. 7 If a man shall deliver unto his neighbour money or stuff to keep, and it be stolen out of the man's house; if the thief be found, let him pay double. 8 If the thief be not found, then the master of the house shall be brought unto the judges, to see whether he have put his hand unto his neighbour's goods. 9 For all manner of trespass, whether it be for ox, for ass, for sheep, for raiment, or for any manner of lost thing, which another challengeth to be his, the cause of both parties shall come before the judges; and whom the judges shall condemn, he shall pay double unto his neighbour. 10 If a man deliver unto his neighbour an ass, or an ox, or a sheep, or any beast, to keep; and it die, or be hurt, or driven away, no man seeing it:

11 Then shall an oath of the LORD be between them both, that he hath not put his hand unto his neighbour's goods; and the owner of it shall accept thereof, and he shall not make it good. 12 And if it be stolen from him, he shall make restitution unto the owner thereof. 13 If it be torn in pieces, then let him bring it for witness, and he shall not make good that which was torn. 14 And if a man borrow ought of his neighbour, and it be hurt, or die, the owner thereof being not with it, he shall surely make it good. 15 But if the owner thereof be with it, he shall not make it good: if it be an hired thing, it came for his hire. 16 And if a man entice a maid that is not betrothed, and lie with her, he shall surely endow her to be his wife. 17 If her father utterly refuse to give her unto him, he shall pay money according to the dowry of virgins. 18 Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. 19 Whosoever lieth with a beast shall surely be put to death. 20 He that sacrificeth unto any god, save unto the LORD only, he shall be utterly destroyed.

21 Thou shalt neither vex a stranger, nor oppress him: for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt. 22 Ye shall not afflict any widow, or fatherless child. 23 If thou afflict them in any wise, and they cry at all unto me, I will surely hear their cry; 24 And my wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the sword; and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless. 25 If thou lend money to any of my people that is poor by thee, thou shalt not be to him as an usurer, neither shalt thou lay upon him usury. 26 If thou at all take thy neighbour's raiment to pledge, thou shalt deliver it unto him by that the sun goeth down: 27 For that is his covering only, it is his raiment for his skin: wherein shall he sleep? and it shall come to pass, when he crieth unto me, that I will hear; for I am gracious. 28 Thou shalt not revile the gods, nor curse the ruler of thy people. 29 Thou shalt not delay to offer the first of thy ripe fruits, and of thy liquors: the firstborn of thy sons shalt thou give unto me. 30 Likewise shalt thou do with thine oxen, and with thy sheep: seven days it shall be with his dam; on the eighth day thou shalt give it me. 31 And ye shall be holy men unto me: neither shall ye eat any flesh that is torn of beasts in the field; ye shall cast it to the dogs.

Exodus 22

Diane Beauford

0 notes

snarkwrites · 4 years ago

Note

how long has it been since my last ✨thot✨? too long

suits, we talked about it. tim and greg look fine as fuck in them and there are definitely some other uses for those ties😏😏😏 murder me please - ❤️

it’s been so long! i’m so glad you’re back and you’re sending me more ✨thots✨ too!!! We did talk about Tim and Greg in suits. Honestly, either man in a suit is like.. uh.. God tier. that’s that sexy daddy af good shit me thinks. OMG I’VE ACTUALLY THOUGHT THIS ON OCCASION...

Warnings:

This is probably about to get dirty. Or suggestive, at the very least. If you’re under 18+ you need to navigate away now. This content is not meant for minors.

It got sexual. All minors, please remove thine selves from this post.

Mentions of the misuse of a neck tie... Compromising situations, fingering / body fluids and the above all taking place in semi public locales... Dominant behavior. Pretty much it for this, if you’re choosing to stick around.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@twistnet

TIM SPEEDLE & suits /neck ties;

You barely stopped the gasp at the sight of him when he stepped out of the dressing room. Grumbling, tugging at the tie around his neck. A tie that wasn’t even tied properly. And the sight of that made you giggle. You wandered over, melting against him. Walking your fingers up and down his chest.

“I hate it, thanks.” he muttered. “H cannot seriously expect me to work in this shit, Hell, I can barely breathe.” he tugged at the tie. The movement had you staring at his hands helplessly. Imagining him with the jacket off.. The tie loose and around his neck. The sleeves rolled to his fore arms. You lying on the bed and Tim slipping the tie from around his neck, leaning down over you with that smirk on his face as he bound your hands and started to undress you, slowly peeling away each layer.

“I think it’s sexy.” you answered, caught in the heat of the moment and your little daydream that you’d just had. It slipped out before you could stop it. Face burning hot when you realized you’d just blurted it out loud and not in your head. He’d asked you to come along to help him with this as a friend. And you’d come along happily, because a chance to see Tim Speedle in a suit was not something you wanted to miss out on.

You expected it to go all quiet and awkward. Instead, your back met the wall next to the dressing room door with a soft smack. He pressed into you. Gazing deep into your eyes. “Sexy huh?” he chuckled, inching his face closer to your own. You gulped. Nodding. “I said it, didn’t I?”

“Oh, you said it.” Tim licked his lips. The end result was his tongue brushing against the outline of your mouth, warm and wet. Making you whimper before you could stop yourself or regain control. You took a few shaky breaths and admitted quietly, “ I mean, you’re always sexy, but that suit is really giving me ideas..” trailing off because now you’d definitely just said too much. He still hadn’t really reacted to you admitting you thought he was sexy and here you went, digging the hole deeper. “Just curious, princess.. What are your ideas?”

You swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath because he was pressing himself into you harder now. The handle on the door was lightly digging at your back. His hands were skimming over your sides. He was staring at you expectantly. Waiting on your answer.

“Tying me up with that tie.” the words tumbled out in a rush and something in the man snapped. He was rocking against you. His mouth met yours clumsily. What started out as a clumsy peck turned into a deep and handsy kiss. His hand slipping beneath your skirt to squeeze and cup your core. The other hand lightly covering your mouth when you started to get loud and needy with your whimpers and whines. He lowered his hand, pushing open the door to the dressing room. You stepped inside and found yourself pinned against the mirror. Tim molding against you from behind. Locking eyes wtih you in the reflection.

Just the revelation that he had this entire other side to him had you dripping in a split second. He mumbled lazily against the shell of your ear, “Fine. I’ll buy the suit. But.. How serious were you about me using the tie on your wrists?”

“If you get me out of here right now, Tim, you can do whatever you want.. With the tie. In front of a mirror...”

He groaned, a whimper on the heels of the groan as he pressed his palm against your dripping sex a bit harder. Applying more pressure. “Anything, huh? So if I tied you to the bed and went down on you, that’d be okay?” as he groaned when you got even wetter, really starting to drip on his hand. He rubbed himself against your ass, making you shiver at the way it felt, his cock strained against the fitted pants of the suit, pressing against your ass.

“Oh, it’d be more than okay.” you breathed out, your breath shaky as you said the words, the words catching in your throat as his mouth danced over your throbbing pulse. “I want you to. Please?”

He growled against your skin. “ I am so tempted to take you up on that, right here, right now.”

All you could do was whimper and rock yourself against him urgently. Begging for it. Beyond turned on at this side of him because it was one you hadn’t seen before. But always wondered if he posessed. Reaching back between your bodies, you ghosted your hand over the way he strained at the pants of the suit. He rocked against your hands. “I’m not stopping you.” you moaned out as his hand squeezed your core, pressing down just a little more. Teasing you... He removed his hand, raising it to tug the tie free.

“Hands up against the wall, princess.” he muttered lazily against your ear once more. You did as you were told and Tim tugged the tie free from his neck, loosely binding your wrists together. You whimpered helplessly and Tim’s hands drifted back down, settling beneath your skirt. Fingers brushing soaked fabric out of the way and burying deep inside you as you squirmed against the way he had your wrists bound. “I didn’t tie you too tight?” he checked and you shook your head no, pleading for the use of your hands in the next breath when you felt his fingers working deeper inside you, the soft wet slosh as he did so making you bite your lip just to attempt staying quiet so you weren’t caught. “We shouldn’t be doing this but I can’t wait. Want you so much.” he muttered against your skin, his breath catching as he worked his fingers in and out. “So wet already. And when I get you home and taste you, fuck...”

GREG SANDERS & neck ties;

“Thank you for coming with tonight.” you molded against him as a slow song started to play and the dee jay announced the arrival of the bride and groom. Greg beamed down at you, his arms slipping loosely around your waist.

“I wasn’t going to leave you hanging.” he answered and the husky edge to his voice had you barely biting back a whimper. You toyed with the tie that hung loosened around his neck. Your gaze fixed on his shirt. He tucked his fingers beneath your chin, making you meet his gaze.

“I’d do anything for you.” he muttered. Cheeks reddening as he admitted it. Wanting to kick himself because he had. You took a second to process. Melting against his body as you did. Licking your lips because at this particular moment, words were failing you.

Across the reception area, the bride and groom were slicing into the cake, but you didn’t want to let go to wander over and watch. Greg chuckled quietly. You could tell he was getting a little nervous. You had to do something. So you gripped hold of the loosened tie, pulling his mouth down and against your own. Parting his lips with your tongue, making him groan into your mouth and deepen the kiss. His hands starting to really wander. Settling on your ass. Squeezing, which in the process, rocked you right into his body. When you repeated the movement, something in him snapped and he asked in a breathy whisper against your mouth as the kiss broke, “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

“Oh my god, yes.” you panted, your mouth meeting his all over again. He picked you up, letting your legs circle his waist and your arms circle his neck and he carried you out into the lobby of the hotel your sister was holding the wedding in. You had a room on the second floor that you’d gotten for the day and the night just in case neither you or Greg were up to driving the two and a half hours back to Vegas. Your back met the wall next to the elevator with a soft smack and he reached out, not bothering to break the kiss as he pushed up on the elevator.

And when it opened, he stepped on quickly. You used the tie to pull his mouth against yours all over again and he growled against your mouth. “If you keep doing that..”

“You’ll what?” you teased, pulling away to give a soft giggle. Greg licked his lips, something wild flashing in his eyes and as soon as you two were in your suite, he was tearing your clothing off, you were tearing his clothing off and your back met with the mattress as you were pulling his shirt off his body. He settled himself between your legs, pushing them open. Your legs leaning against his sides. His hand moved up your body, reaching for something. The tie, you discovered when he held your hands in one of his, tying the tie around your wrist loose. Making you pout as he leaned down, kissing, nipping at your mouth. Then your neck.. and then a trail down your body. Settling on his knees, raising one of your legs as he started to work his mouth up the inside of your leg, letting it settle on his shoulder as he nipped at the waistband of your panties with his teeth, tugging them downward with a soft and playful growl against your bare skin that sent a shiver racing through you. His tongue making a broad swipe up your dripping center as you tried to dig your heel into his upper back just to have some kind of grip or control over.

By the time he was finished using his tongue to spell his name between your thighs, you were shaking and arching your back, begging him to free your hands...

11 notes · View notes

krahka · 4 years ago

Note

Kleskizhae and Yangir, incredibly loud and painful high five.

Here it is, the dumbasses. Extremely mild and possibly misleading Stormblood spoilers?

The first time Susano was summoned, Yangir was at the ready to take the Lord of Revels on, but Kleskizhae was off skulking around Zenos’s airship, living in the vents, taking advantage of the full-face cover of the standard Imperial uniform and occasionally emerging to challenge the crown prince to a duel.

The second time they were both in Kugane, so they should have been able to fight Him together. Kleskizhae was writing a few songs for the Mujizoka theater, but Yangir had been arrested for “trespassing and vandalism.” The vandalism was a mistake, and maybe instead of plating their roofs in gold that would get ruined when someone stepped on them and then complain when inevitably someone stepped on them, they could just not do that. When Kleskizhae came for their bail or to break them out, the Sekiseigumi chased him out because of the last time he busted someone out of jail. It was just the one time, and it was Hildibrand’s idea, but telling them that only seemed to make them angrier. So he had to fight Susano without them.

It kept happening, to the point where Susano Himself wondered why His two favorites never seemed to be fighting Him together. He was tired of them being the only ones who seemed happy to see Him, and as Kleskizhae protested that he was never happy to see an eikon, Susano unsummoned Himself until His two “FAVORED WARRIOR SOULS, MOST JOYOUS AND FIERCE” were together to fight Him again. That was probably something that the more scholarly members of the Scions would be interested to hear, but despite whatever implications that had, it wasn’t as if the two of them hadn’t talked about how they needed to fight primals together more often anyway.

It wasn’t long before they chartered a boat to the Isle of Zekki, where the Red Kojin put up only a token resistance. They knew they were only warm ups for the main event. Once they busted into the sacred vault, Susano was already there to greet them.

“WELCOME, TREASURED GUESTS! I SEE YOU ARE UNITED IN PURPOSE AND JOY! TALL ONE!” the primal bellowed at Kleskizhae. “WILT THOU SING FOR US ONCE MORE?”

As much as he’d protest in public about how Susano was a threat to Othard, and the very world, he was also weak to flattery, and if Susano liked his singing, he couldn’t help but like that too.

“Indeed I shall, oh Commander of the Waves! I have composed a song for this very occasion, in which…”

‘It’s about how we’re gonna kick Your ass!” Yangir said, clutching their spear in glee.

“Exactly as my boon companion said. ‘Tis a song about kicking Your ass.”

Susano laughed, and ear-splitting thunder followed. ‘EXCELLENT! FULL GLAD ARE WE THAT YOU HAVE COME PREPARED TO PARTY! THIS SHALL BE A CELEBRATION FOR THE AGES!”

He raised his enormous sword, in case either of the Warriors of Light had forgotten what the kami’s idea of a celebration was, and Kleskizhae was quick with his glowing Allagan-tech shield to intercept it before it crushed them all like insects.

Under the strain of holding back Ame-no-Murakumo, Kleskizhae began to sing.

“Oh great Lord of Revels, we are here to kick Thine ass..”

“YES!” Susano bellowed, applying more pressure to Kleskizhae’s shield. “YES!”

While the primal was distracted by His sheer delight, Yangir lept into action, their spear glinting with the reflection of the lightning that was suddenly everywhere. They jumped through the storm gales to attach themself to His armor by the spear, screaming and kicking all the while. They pierced His shoulder, and Susano let out a yell that nearly left Yangir deaf as He swatted them off. Kleskizhae moved in to catch Yangir, and they landed on his shield, ready to jump even further this time.

“Betcha I can knock off His helmet,” Yangir whispered to Kleskizhae.

“Oooh would that even kill him?” Kleskizhae whispered back, dodging another wave with Yangir perched atop his shield.

“Let’s find out!” Yangir jumped up as Kleskizhae pushed them into the air at Susano’s head. They flew through the air, catching on fire and laughing as they rammed straight through Susano’s head, knocking it clean off. The helmet fell to the ground with a clang, empty of anything but aether. Susano paused His assault to pick it back up, and He laughed.

“INCREDIBLE WORK, MY COURAGEOUS SOULS! A MOST EXCELLENT CLASH! I THANK YOU! SHOULD YOU HAVE YOUR SONG TO US WRITTEN DOWN, PLEASE LEAVE IT HERE, SO THAT MY FOLLOWERS CAN SING IT FOR ME!”

The enormous primal bowed to the two and as the skies cleared, His armor clattered to the ground, empty of the animating kami until such a time when the Kojin summoned Him again.

They took a moment to catch their breaths. They were soaking wet, and Kleskizhae’s magitech shield was sparking a bit from the damage it sustained keeping Susano’s sacred sword at bay. Once they had stopped panting, they started laughing.

“That was great!” Yangir raised their hands to high-five Kleskizhae.

Kleskizhae was still a bit jumpy, but he still met their gauntleted hand with his own gauntleted hand, and the metal audibly clanged.

“Ow!” Yangir recoiled at the slightly too forceful high five.

“Damnation!” Kleskizhae cried out, shaking his hand.

Upon realizing what happened, they laughed, the adrenaline coming off and everything seeming ridiculous.

“Hmmm. I did have a song written out, but I ended up improvising. Not that I ought to be leaving offerings for eikons, but still. He asked so politely.”

“Maybe you can have them ready next time. There is going to be a next time, right?”

“Of course not. The Kojin will realize the folly of summoning eventually. Or they’ll run out of crystals. Or something.”

“But if there is a next time?”

“Well yes. Obviously we’ll fight Him together.”

They high-fived again. It went about as badly as the last one.

#replies #robotsfromouterspace #this is only moderately stupid #susano is the only being more all-caps than kleskizhae so he gets the all caps

7 notes · View notes

casualpaladin31 · 4 years ago

Text

Second Chance (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Requested: No

Trigger warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence and mild language.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Beginning(n): late 12c., "time when something begins;" c. 1200, "initial stage or first part," verbal noun from begin. Meaning "act of starting something" is from early 13c.

Beginning. From where I stand right now, the beginning seems so much more tame than what I know now. Spencer would usually tell me some sort of fact associated with the ‘beginning of the world’ if he were here right now. But he’s not. If only foresight were real. And I had it’s full power of never saying what I did. Never pushing him away. But I guess hindsight isn’t 20-20. And words can’t be taken back.

~~~

April 12. Seems like a regular day to anybody. But not to me. Not to Spencer. He and I have been in what feels like an endless storm of arguments since Christmas. He and I had always been each other’s rock. Our anchor with how stressful our jobs are. I was there for him when the cases got rough and he was my shoulder when a case got way too personal. We just fit. That is, if you didn’t count the small little quirks in our relationship. One of which being my tendency to be like Morgan and jump into situations without too much thinking.

I won’t lie; he absolutely hates it. Case in point:

“Spence, come on, I can walk on my own now. The swelling’s gone down.” I complained, groaning at my tall and lanky boyfriend who was currently forbidding me from standing up from bed. So, maybe I might have gotten my ankles fractured and twisted by an unsub when I had tackled him prematurely and he and I went tumbling into traffic. No biggie. Other than the fact that one of the BAU’s SUVs ran over my ankles. Hotch didn’t see me. I don’t blame him.

Spencer rolled his eyes as he pushed me back into bed as I tried for the fifth time that morning to get up to go to the damn kitchen and eat something. “The doctor said you need three weeks of bed rest. It hasn’t even been two yet.” Spencer reasoned, tucking me into the covers of our shared bed before I could protest.

“Spence, I’ll be fine going to the kitchen. It’s not that far away.” I tried again, sitting up from the bed and pulling covers off of my body. “I promise I’m fine.”

Spencer shook his head and gripped my hands, trying to lay me back down. “Actually there is plenty of space between here and the kitchen, Y/N. The inflammation and swelling process is to remove the damaged tissue from your fractures. Your ankles can’t heal until you let the swelling complete its course. This wouldn’t have happened if you had just waited for me.” Spencer sighed again, the end of his words having a bit of a jabbing tone that sparked a sharp ache in my chest.

“What?” I asked, with half a laugh and half disbelief. “Are you serious right now? After all the things you’ve done without orders? Don’t make me list them, Spencer.” I hissed, half pissed that Spencer would even bring this part up. Sure, Hotch had given me a few weeks off due to my injuries, and I had gotten a case of major cabin fever since that included bed rest from the doctor. But that seemed to be forgiven by everyone. I still got calls from Penelope every few days to check on me for the rest of the team. But I guess this was still an issue. Even after we already had this argument.

Spencer grunted as he stood up straight again, seemingly towering over me in all of his 6’1 glory. He may be making me mad right now, but he was still my tree. And I his squirrel. If that makes any sense.

“Don’t start this please, I don’t want to argue with you on this.” Spencer tries, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I gritted my teeth and scoffed. “Then why bring it up? Especially the way you did? Why, Spencer? Why? Cause I’m itching to know.” I instigate. Not the best move on my part. As Spencer’s eyes flickered with anger. It was clear he really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. But he should’ve thought about that.

“Y/N do you really have to do this? Can’t we have one day without an argument?” Spencer huffed, running a tired hand through his hair. I roll my eyes in anger and I plant my feet against the hardwood.

“You started this Spencer, not me. I just want to know what the hell you meant by what you said.” I retort, trying to reel back my anger. This argument wasn’t going anywhere. We hadn’t been communicating. It didn’t take a profiler to see that. And it seemed all that miscommunication was coming back to bite us in the ass.

“You want to know what I meant? I’m tired of you throwing yourself into danger like that. Morgan does it, yes, but that does not mean that you should follow in his footsteps, Y/N.” Spencer says in a half accusatory tone and half calm. How the hell does he stay so calm when we argue? Even when I know he’s angry?

“Oh, so Morgan does it better than me or something? If it’s so bad, Spencer, then go scold Morgan too why don’t you? Maybe you’ll actually get somewhere with him.” I jab at Spencer, instantly regretting my comment.

Spencer is grunting with anger as he tries to formulate a response. “This isn’t getting us anywhere, Y/N! All these arguments? They never end well for either of us! If you hadn’t been so reckless maybe we wouldn’t have to be having this argument!” Spencer finally quips back at me. I widen my eyes and I furrow my eyebrows after a few moments. I open my mouth to respond before Spencer leaves the room, shutting the door a bit harshly as he does.

I scowl and scoff as I unwillingly roll back over into bed. I was so done with this constant arguing. What had happened to that spark we used to have? That perfect routine where everything just fit?

After a few minutes of sulking in my own anger I sigh. This was ridiculous wasn’t it? Sure. But I wasn’t ready to apologize yet. At least Spencer has another day or so before he’s gotta get back to the BAU. I can apologize to him before bed tonight. Can’t go to bed angry.

I couldn’t help but remember a poem that Spencer had read to me previously. It was on the tip of my tongue. I remember he had a collection of them that he liked to leave for me whenever he got home before me. Or if I left before him and I was expected to come home early. Especially when he had to work and I didn’t. It was just something we enjoyed. Well… used to anyway.

The poem was Love’s Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelly, I think. Yeah. That was it. I can only remember part of it though.

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?

What happened between us? What did we do to get this far away from our paradise that we had made together?

I sighed as I recalled the poem, shifting through my nightstand and finding the small notebook paper that he had left for me on my pillow months prior. Was this relationship even salvageable? Would we ever get back to this point of love between us? Or would this rift grow ever larger, and keep us apart?

I let out a tired exhale and began to slowly get up from my prison. I hissed as my ankles began to wobble from the sudden weight. I gripped the nightstand for dear-life before I found my balance, and I started to wander into the apartment I’d been kept from for the past week and a half.

I wobble my wounded and swollen feet into the living room, gripping onto everything that I could to get there safely and without a fall. Knowing Spencer’s state of mind it would probably feed into another argument. But though all odds were against me, I made it to the couch. I plopped down and picked up a forgotten book that laid next to me. La Divina Commedia. Why am I not surprised Spencer’s been reading that?

Before I could pick the book up and even attempt to read it in it’s natural text, I hear the plop of a ready back by the front door. I sigh. Of course there’s a case. A case while I’m down for the count. My fault, I guess.

I sigh and put the book down. “So you’re leaving?” I question, trying to sound at least remotely sincere.

Spencer doesn’t even acknowledge that I’d even spoken, too busy with his bag. At least he had the manners to respond. “Yes, I am. Three women were abducted in Oklahoma. It will probably take a few days.” He says, his usual tone of sorrow for having to leave absent from his voice. Almost like he was thankful for this break from me.

I bite my lip nervously and fight the urge to sigh yet again. “Well… Tell the team I said good luck.” I say as audibly as I can without giving away the hurt pounding in my chest.

Spencer at least nods before he grabs his now full bag and exits the apartment. Not even looking at me once.

Kidnapping case, huh?

~~~

Spencer’s POV

Spencer can’t help but notice the seething anger he was emitting as he walked into the bullpen to set his stuff down before the case briefing. Morgan and Prentiss both gave him looks as he set his bag down and tried to gather what he would need for the case at hand.

“Hey kid, something… going on at home? I can feel your anger from over there.” Morgan prompts, pulling Spencer into a half head lock with his arm. Spencer sighed and pulled away from Morgan’s attempt at communicating.

“It’s fine, Morgan. Really. Did you know that couples find themselves fighting about household issues about seven times each month? A survey of 2,000 Americans, commissioned by a furniture company, found couples wind up averaging about 72 spats each year over home improvement particulars.” Spencer starts to ramble, unable to hold back his concern for the topic. At least his attitude and overall tone wasn’t deteriorating from where it had been before he left.

Morgan nodded, suddenly understanding where the conversation was leading. “Ah, so you and Y/N having some trouble in paradise? She getting cabin fever yet?” Morgan teased, poking Spencer in the shoulder.

“I don’t believe there’s ever really paradise in a relationship. A study proposed by the company Eharmony suggested that although 64% of couples are happy in their relationships, that other 36% isn’t. But that number continuously changes. And relationships end everyday over small things.” Spencer rambled again, his hands being shoved into his pockets as Morgan began leading him into their meeting room.

Morgan shook his head. “Man you got it bad. Just try to make it up for her when you get home, alright? You don’t wanna go to bed angry, you know what I’m saying?” Morgan suggests. Spencer sighed and went silent as they pushed through the glass doors and took their seats at the round table to let JJ announce their newest case.

"We've got three missing women in Oklahoma city, all from low socioeconomic classes. Danielle Jones, Katie Hurtz, and Cassidy Weirton were all last seen by their boyfriends at a party they all attended yesterday. Their cars were found dumped into the nearby river with signs of chains digging into the paint. Almost as if they were pulled into the river." JJ explains, turning to face the team.

Prentiss raises an eyebrow. "Don't they all look a little like Y/N? You know, h/c, e/c, s/c?" She brings up, slightly catching Spencer’s attention. Spencer looks up and looks at the photos currently on the screen. Emily was right. They did all look like her.

Morgan nods in agreement. "Yeah, they kinda do. I'm kinda glad you ran over her ankle, Hotch. She might've had to deal with Mr. overprotective here if you didn't." He teased, gesturing his thumb to Spencer.

Spencer raises an eyebrow and looks at Morgan in a bit of shock. "I don't follow." He asks. Prentiss shook her head and gave Spencer a knowing look.

"Come on, Spencer. We all heard it from Y/N herself when Garcia called her. You're giving her cabin fever by keeping her in one room all day long." Emily points out, teasing him a bit along with Morgan.

"Why is this important? She needs approximately 3 weeks of bedrest as determined by her doctor. I'm just trying to make sure she heals right." Spencer expressed in annoyance. Although Prentiss was definitely right. Y/N had been showing him signs of just wanting to move from the bed to the couch so that she wasn't bored from her surroundings. But she still shouldn't be moved all that much. Especially since she didn't have any sort of cast or boot to help with the healing. Only a brace.

"She isn't coming with us on this case, so there isn't any reason I need to worry, is there?" Spencer reasoned, growing tired of the teasing.

Morgan raised his hands up from where they had been resting on the table. "I guess not. But kid, seriously. Take it from a man who knows: don't fight her on this." Morgan encourages.

Maybe he was right, Spencer thought.

~~~

Three days had passed since Spencer had gone on the new case. I was absolutely and completely, lonely. And it was almost suffocating.

Thankfully Spencer had left me an apartment full of food, so I needn't worry about having to cook or, god forbid, have to go grocery shopping in my condition.

But I was tired of the four bare walls of the main area of my and Spencer’s apartment. I could only bear them for so much longer before I completely combusted from boredom and fourth stage cabin fever. So… I went out to go get a few books. What? We had crutches from the hospital. And taxis exist. So I was fine.

Besides, I knew Spencer hadn't read books from this author yet. And I was partially hoping that he would take them as mostly an apology gift and the rest just a gift. I wanted to try and get back into the swing of our relationship. Try and just maybe get back into a somewhat normal routine. Even if I was incapacitated.

I clobbered around the bookstore, my more injured foot swinging as I used the lesser to get around. There were so many books I just didn't know which ones to get for Spencer and just how many I wanted to get for myself.

One I picked up reminded me of a case that had come across my desk. The case was actually in Quantico. An unsub was kidnapping women around the ages of 20 to 35 and the bodies were found dumped into the river, raped and mutilated. But there were only two victims at the moment, and the period between them was months, so it hadn't seemed like one to worry about. I heard the unsub left a letter to each of the families of the victims. Almost taunting them. Weird how you can make connections like that in real life compared to your second one.

But eventually I hobbled again over ro the counter and heaved about 5 books up into the clerk's view. The clerk looked me up and down and smirked.

"Rough day?" He asked, beginning to scan the books into the system. I groaned and chuckled slightly.

"More like rough life." I reply, heaving myself back onto the harsh arm rests of the crutches. The man nods in understanding.

"Very true. But hey, I'm sure you'll get off of those soon and get back to your normal routine." He says, telling me my cost.

I fumble through my wallet and pull out my credit card. I hand it to the clerk. The clerk then takes it and swipes it for me.

"Do you want to sign up for our rewards program? You get a book free with every purchase." The clerk prompted. I raised an eyebrow at the sudden offer. I'd never gotten this offer when I'd gone here before. Was it new?

"Not today, sorry." I begin, taking my credit card back from the clerk and beginning to put it back into my wallet.

"It's something new we're trying. Get more customers interested in reading and stuff. And… I kinda promised my boss I'd get at least one my next shift. I'd really appreciate it." The clerk prompts again. I sigh. Would it really be that bad? Spencer might appreciate it. Getting more books for only a quarter of the price? He'd like that. Hell, I'd enjoy that. Why not?

I shrug and I nod. "Alright, alright. You need my number and stuff?" I ask. The clerk nods.

"Uh huh. Just name, number and address." The clerk says, beginning to type into the computer at the counter.

"Y/N L/N, 555-555-5555, (insert random Quantico apartment address here)." I list, piling the books up and putting them into a bag the clerk handed me.

As the clerk finished up I smiled at him. "Have a good day sir." I say as I begin my hobble back towards the door.

"You too."

~~~

I wobble on the crutches as I clop back to Spencer and I's shared apartment. I sigh as I begin to fumble with my keys. My phone drops out of my pocket as I do.

I grumble and lean over to grab it. I turn it on out of curiosity. No new messages. Nothing. Not a single 'How are you?' text. Kinda pissed me off a bit.

But instead I sigh and just type a quick, and small text.

Y/N - Hey, can we talk when you get home? I wanna make it up to you. Please.

I sigh and shove it back into my pocket. I'll deal with it later, I think.

I finally unlock my door and shove it open. When I do though, I find a letter shoved under the door. Couldn't they have put it in the mailbox?

I pick it up and shut the door behind me. I hobbled over to the dining room table and put the bag of books down, along with the crutches as I began to investigate the letter.

I don't even get the chance to fully open the letter before I'm grabbed from behind and a cloth is shoved into my mouth. Chloroform.

I try instantly to cough and spit the rag out, but by the time I do, I've already begun to breathe the gas in, and my vision began to grow cloudy and spotty.

The only thing I hear as the lights begin to fade and my capture begins to drag me away is "Good… go to sleep now."

~~~

Spencer sighed as he sat on the plane in mid thought. They thankfully were able to capture the unsub and bring him to justice before he could kill any of the girls. But something had struck him as they had finished up the case. Y/N had texted him, wanting to talk. He'd tried to reach her that night by calling her cell, but it went straight to voicemail. He didn't think much of it. She was probably sleeping. As she should be.

But still. She was right. They both needed to resolve this. Nothing was going to improve if they didn't try.

"Hey kid, whatcha thinking?" Morgan asks, taking a seat next to Spencer as the plane got ready to land.

"I think I'm going to talk with her tonight. See if we can come to an understanding. A compromise maybe." He sighed, fumbling with his fingers.

Derek grinned. "Alright, Spencer, my man!" He exclaims, lightly hitting his shoulder. "Good. I'm proud of you, kid." He says, prompting Spencer to smile.

"Thank you Morgan. I just think we'll find a better normal is all." He agrees, unable to focus on the current case report he'd just written.

Prentiss wanders over and takes a seat next to Spencer as well. "I'm glad you've decided to tame the beast, Spencer." She teases.

Rossi's ears perk up at the conversation. "Are we talking about Y/N here? Cause she's untameable." He expresses, pulling a smile onto Spencer’s face.

She really was untameable, Spencer thought. Maybe that was a good thing.

~~~

Spencer stretched his arms as he walked to his apartment. After the long and hard case they had, he just wanted to hold you and pull you close. Those girls looking so similar to you had messed with his head.

Spencer exited the elevator, ready bag in hand as he turned to head down the hallway with his and Y/N's shared apartment. When he finally stopped, he noticed the door was ajar. Weird. Y/N always had a quirk about insisting he close the door behind him whenever he entered or exited a room. So why would she leave the door open?

Spencer cautiously entered the room and saw the lights all completely turned off. Maybe she was in bed, he thought.

He flicked on the lights and noticed a bag of books on the table, and a half opened envelope laying there as well next to forgotten crutches. Spencer rolled his eyes as he noticed the books were newly bought, guess Y/N couldn't stay in bed while he was gone.

That's when he noticed the letter again. He opened it up and began to read the complete horror that met his eyes.

Hello.

I'm glad we share an interest in books. I've always liked reading. Did you know that? I've also loved (h/c) haired girls. All my life. When your (e/c) eyes met mine, I knew you had to be mine. So, please don't fight this. All I want is for us to be together. Forever.

I promise I’m not like him. Your boyfriend. I won't leave you alone on weekends with fractured feet.

Just obey me, and you'll be happy. I promise.

Love, Z.H.E

Spencer felt tears building up in his eyes. This man, this--this Z.H.E had taken Y/N. Taken his girlfriend at her weakest. And he wasn't here to protect her.

Spencer thrust the letter onto the table and dropped to his knees. You were gone. Out of his reach. And there was no telling how long you'd been gone. How long you've been in this unsub's hands. So there was no way to know if you had any chance.

Spencer clutched at his shirt and tie as he began to quicken his breathing and his heart began to pound faster. He had to do something. Anything.

Then he felt his phone vibrate. That was it. He had proof. This wasn't Y/N's handwriting. They had a case. They just had to get permission.

Spencer shook his head. Fuck the permission. He was going to find Y/N and put the bastard who took her in prison. They didn't have much time, but he was going to find her. Dead or alive.

Spencer pulled his phone out and immediately began dialing Morgan’s number, tears still streaming down his cheek.

He was going to find you. He had to.

After a few rings, Morgan finally answered the phone. "Reid? Kid it's like 11 o'clock at night. What's wro-" Morgan groans.

Spencer immediately cut him off. "Morgan, Y/N's not here. Some-someone took her. Th-they left a-a note and u-uh… they signed it Z...Z.H.E." Spencer rambled and stuttered, his voice almost inaudible from his tears and his voice growing faster with his nerves.

Morgan’s response was to be expected. "Wait, what? You serious kid? Hold on, I'll call Hotch. Bring anything Y/N might've had with her the day she got taken with you back to the BAU. We'll meet you there." Derek ushered, the sound of a TV being shut off in the background.

Spencer tried to calm his breathing, but it only got faster and harder to control. "O-okay… got it." Was his only response as he hung up the phone and pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket and began searching the apartment for any sort of sealing bag he could put the letter in for evidence. If the bastard wasn't wearing gloves, they needed to be able to find fingerprints. Not just his own.

Once he found something, he slid the envelope and the letter into the bag and sealed it shut. Once he had it, he grabbed the bag and the bag of books and began to carry them out the door.

~~~

I groaned as I lifted my head up from where it had hung for I didn't know how long. My neck ached from the change in position, and I heard a few painful pops as I moved it. I felt my head pounding. Seems like that head wound is finally giving me trouble.

I tugged at my arms, feeling rope dig back into my skin in retaliation. I gritted my teeth and began to try and use my fingers to attempt any sort of chance this asshole decided to leave the knot in close range of my hands. But alas, he didn't.

My legs were tied to the chair as well, almost tighter than my arms were. I sighed. It had been 4 days since this asshole had taken me. And it wasn't pretty. I had a large gash on my cheek, and bruises that scattered my torso and thighs. This guy wasn't subtle in his obsession with me. He needed to see me multiple times a day. And if I didn't do what he asked, he whipped me. And the guy got off from it.

I sighed, at least he decided to move me from the dangling chain prison he'd had me in the first three days. The first one he just needed to see all of me. I was just unlucky enough to wake up prematurely.

I'm glad I wasn't awake for most of it. It still hurts. Every time I close my eyes I try and focus on Spencer. His hazel eyes looking down at me with love in them, telling me it'll be okay.

But when I open my eyes again, I'm back in my own personal hell.

I sigh and look around, hoping the blood that was pooling above my eye didn't drip down into my eye where I couldn't see. I'd already viewed this whole room dozens of times. But it was something to do while this asshole lived upstairs with his wife and their young daughter. And they do nothing about it.

My eyes find the only window in this hell of a basement and I see that the light is brighter than usual. Must be noon. I can't tell. That can only mean he's going to be here soon. Gonna take another piece of me that I'll never get back.

"S-spencer…" I whimper quietly, squeezing my eyes shut as a tear builds up in my eye. If I hadn't gone out like he told me this wouldn't have happened. I'd still be in our apartment and I would've been there to welcome him home. Not here. Not with death looming over my head.

"Oh, poor baby. You seriously want him? When you have me? You've got all you could ever want and you never accept me. Why?" The most disgusting and smoke-induced sounding voice echoed into the basement.

I turn my head and glare at my capture, my right eye squinting as the blood from my forehead began to drip over it. I don't answer him, afraid he'll just beat me again for my answer. He'll beat me anyway.

He growled and pulled my face towards his, holding it harshly as he spat into my face. "Answer me, bitch! That's all you are!" He yelled, pushing the chair against a beam. I cough as my head collides with the wood.

I shake as my head slowly lifts to look at him again. "I… I don't want you… I w-want to g-go home…" I stutter. He wants an answer. But I don't want to play into his game. I feel disgusting.

He then launches a punch to my gut, causing me to cough up a spat of blood and begin to groan from my bruises. Add another bruise to the pile.

"WHY?! I am a better man! THE better man! You are mine! Accept it!" He spat, tossing the chair aside along with me. "It's like you don't even like me!" The man growled.

I groaned and began to shrink as much as I could into the chair. Why? Why me? He had a wife and a kid upstairs. A perfect normal life. Why couldn't he just settle?

The man shook his head and growled. "No. No we're gonna show this 'boyfriend' of yours just how good I am to you." He insists before he fishes through the clothes that he had torn off of me and pulled out my phone. I could only hope that Garcia could track its location fast enough.

~~~

Spencer gripped his hair tightly as everyone was scrambling to try and find some way, some connection to bring them close enough to be able to find Y/N. But they had nothing.

So far, they hadn't found any fingerprints on the letter that Spencer or Y/N hadn't left themselves. And the bag was obviously only carried by Y/N. So they were stuck until they could get another piece of information.

Morgan sighed as he watched Spencer go over the letter for what he knew was about the twelve hundredth time that night. He really didn't deserve this.

Morgan took a seat and tried to get Spencer’s attention by lightly grabbing his wrist. Spencer jumped from the sudden contact, sighing slightly.

"Nothing… After 5 hours of searching we have found nothing. All we have is a reminder of how terrible I was to her." Spencer sighed, his esteem having grown drastically low in the time that he had spent reading the letter over and over again.

Morgan sighed. "Kid, you were not terrible to her. Come on. She loves you, man. Seriously, I can see love. And she's got it for you." Morgan insists, nudging Spencer’s shoulder. Reid sighed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Still, the last thing I did with her was argue over her being reckless. That might be the last thing she ever hears from me." Spencer expressed, clutching harshly at his chest.

Derek sighed again and nudged Spencer once more. "Come on, kid. We'll find her. That won't be the last thing you say. The last words you ever say to her will be on your shared deathbed kid." Morgan teased. "Come on, the girl got you five books when she was supposed to be resting. If anything that tells me she loves you more than the pain she feels." Morgan chuckles, gesturing towards the bag of books on the evidence table.

Reid shrugs and looks down for a moment before it hits him. He stands up suddenly and starts shifting through the plastic bag for the receipt.

"Woah, kid. Did I say something to set you off or-?" Morgan asks suddenly, confused by Spencer’s sudden movement.

"The books! She-she would've taken the b-books out if she had been home l-long enough to put them away-" he rambled, searching and flipping through each of the books, desperately trying to find the receipt and to find some sort of indication as to when she was taken.

"Right, but Reid I don't-" Morgan starts again.

Spencer shook his head. "Just-!" He exclaims almost exasperatedly. Then he finds it. Deeply nestled into a copy of Edgar Allen Poe's greatest poems, was a receipt for four days ago at a bookstore a few miles away from their apartment.

"Found it." He whispers, smiling happily. Maybe he had a chance of finding Y/N after all.

Morgan widened his eyes. "Does it got a date on it, Reid?" He asked, getting up from his chair in a quick haste to know if they had a new clue.

Reid nodded, a few tears building in his eyes. "Four days ago. She's been with the unsub for...for four days…" Spencer sputtered, forcefully putting the small receipt down so he didn't crumple it more.

Morgan gave Spencer a sympathetic look and opened his mouth to speak.

"You're gonna wanna see this, Reid." Garcia came onto the screen, pulling Spencer’s attention to it.

"Hold on baby girl," Derek says before he rushes to the glass door that connected the council room to the rest of the bullpen. He opened the door and called in Hotch, JJ, and Rossi. Prentiss came in as she was coming down the hall.

"What is it Garcia?" Hotch asked as he came in, settling into the room and looking at the screen she currently showed her face on.

"Okay, but this is kind of… gore-y. You might not want to see this Reid-" she began, trying to warn Spencer of the video's contents.

Spencer shook his head. "Show the video." He insists. Garcia sighed, but clicked play.

On the screen showed a much less clothed Y/N and a hooded figure in the room. A single light bulb was hanging from the ceiling.

"Since princess here can't accept me, let me just show you what I've done to your precious girl." A distorted voice echoed through the video speakers.

Spencer’s eyes were wide as he was forced to watch the screen for more information on where his (nickname) was.

The hooded figure then pulled out a knife and advanced towards Y/N. Y/N herself bit back a quiver and a whimper. Spencer knew it by her bitten lip.

The figure then used the knife to cut a long gash along Y/N's left arm, before grabbing the right and cutting his initials into the soft skin that was there.

"You're mine, now. What boyfriend would want you now with another man's claim on you?" The figure growled at Y/N.

Y/N took in a shaky breath and looked into the camera. "I-I can take it. I-i p-promise. S-spencer," mouthing one word before the figure slapped her across the face for doing so.

"You bitch‐!" The figure growled. Spencer shut his eyes tightly and looked away from the screen. He could barely make out what she mouthed. Basement.

Hotch looked to Reid, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Did you catch it? The word she gave?" He asked calmly, understanding Reid's need to look away from what this man was doing to the love of his life.

Spencer shook in terror for a few speechless moments before he was finally able to lift his head back up.

"She… s-she said basement, Hotch. She's in a basement." He announces, keeping his eyes away from the screen.

"Meaning this guy could have a complete other life. And that nobody knows what he's doing downstairs." Morgan infers, Prentiss nodding towards him in agreement.

JJ speaks up next. "Sorry to burst the bubble here, but I think I found the case this unsub is connected to." She says, dropping a very thin case file onto the table.

"Two women, between the ages of 20 to 35 were taken from their homes in the mid afternoon. Yet no one saw or heard. At each of the scenes, a letter is found that is similar to the one we found at your apartment, Spence." JJ informs, sighing. "Each of the women were found two weeks after their capture dumped into the river and stripped of their belongings. With sighs of rape and mutilation." JJ says sorrowfully. Spencer’s fist tightens at his side, his eyes squeezing shut again.

He could've been there for you if he hadn't taken that case in the heat of his anger. He would've kept you from going out and attracting the attention of this unsub. But he was more focused on his anger.

"Reid, do you have anything new?" Hotch asks, jotting down a few notes to be able to refer to later. Spencer sighed and nodded.

"Y-yeah. I found the receipt from the bookstore she went to. Four days ago. It's called Zander's Stories." He says, looking up to face Hotch for a moment.

"Good. We'll head there and talk with the owner, see if we can find any employees with our profile. And if they have cameras we'll check to see who checked Y/N out." Hotch informed. The rest of the team nodded and began to get back to work.

Spencer stood up and stopped Hotch for a moment. "H-hotch, what is the profile? If you don't mind my asking." He asked shakily, his hand grasped at his sleeves nervously. He had been so focused on the letter and understanding the handwriting that he only had a portion.

Hotch sighed. "Reid. We're looking for a man most likely in his thirties or forties. Has a history of being flirtatious, almost creepily so with customers. Most likely has a wife, maybe a child as well. But never wears his wedding ring. Almost wanting to lure women closer to him. He probably talks mostly of himself and his own accomplishments than those of his coworkers. Takes every conversation as a chance to turn it about himself." He answered, giving Spencer a sympathetic look. They all wanted to find her. But they had to be careful.

Spencer nodded as he took the profile in, taking a mental note to think of any people he might know. Anyone who might've been watching them before now. But he found nothing.

"The handwriting seems to be gleeful almost in tone. A-almost as if he'd finally gotten what he wanted. Like a child sending a thank you letter to Santa for the presents they got for christmas." Spencer expressed, picking up the letter to point out the darkened graphite marks on the letter page.

"Interesting. He might've been watching her before. Have you and her been out before this? Perhaps gone to this bookstore before Christmas?" Hotch asked, gathering together the papers he had written on.

Spencer searched his mind for a moment, trying to reach as far back as his photographic memory would go to help him remember if he'd ever encountered a man that matched the profile.

"For Christmas she did get me a-a new poem book. A-and a book on philosophy. She might've visited the store then." Spencer informed, his hands gripping tightly and his knuckles turning white.

"That's it. He watches them for months in advance. He seems very organized. He kidnapped her without much fight. Even with her being injured she would've been able to fight him off if he simply grabbed her. He planned this." Hotch then grabbed his things and rushed out the door to join the others.

Spencer felt his body still as he tried to figure out what he could do. What he could say to help find another clue as to where you were. All he could think of was to try and come up with a geographical location from the different victims and the profile.

He just hoped they wouldn't be too late.

~~~

Again I opened my eyes exhaustedly. It seemed I'd been here ages. I didn't know the times between when I'd wake and when I'd pass out. But those times between when I'd wake and after I'd fallen asleep were the best. I got to see Spencer. In all his gentle and warm light.

"S-spencer… I'm scared…" I whispered, not hearing any echos of breath in the tiny basement this man was keeping me in other than my own.

I almost imagine him replying; Why? I'm here.

I choke back a tired sob. "I-i'm afraid… a-afraid I'll never s-see you again…" I whisper in a reply so hoarse and tiresome.

Again I can imagine his response, almost hear it. Don't give up. I'll see you soon, sweetheart.

I swallow a choked sob and close my eyes once more. My hope was almost gone. I'd been here so long. I knew it was at least 4 days. Maybe 5 at the most. I don't know how much I can handle his beatings. Or his possession.

I sniffle and clear my throat as I hear footsteps above me. He's coming again.

The door to the basement slams open and I jump from the sudden noise. His feet pound against the wooden stairs as he rushed down the stairs. I squeezed my eyes shut as he came into the light, unable to face him.

"You didn't tell me you were fuckin' FBI!" The man yelled, slapping me for good measure. I bite my lip and hold onto my whimper. I swallow harshly, not replying to his obvious question.

The man snarls, raising his hand to slap me once again before he stops himself. I almost let myself think that maybe by some miracle he'd grown some sort of conscience. That maybe he'd show me a little mercy. But of course, I was wrong.

The man pulls out his knife and cuts my bindings, pulling me off of the chair abruptly. He grips my wrists so tightly I was sure he'd break them if he squeezed any tighter.

He stayed silent as he dragged me across the floor, digging his nails into my wrists. He hoisted my body up like a ragdoll and enclosed my damaged and rope-burned wrists into chains, allowing me to hang there limp and tired.

"See this, this is what happens when you lie to me, bitch!" He yelled, picking up a long piece of wood he kept in the basement and thrusting it against my stomach. I sputter and cry out before I could even attempt to silence myself. I could feel my insides aching and throbbing. And the nailheads sticking out of the wood bruised my skin, almost breaking it from the force.

The man pulled the wood back and thrust it against my legs, making me whimper from the pain. The nails dug into my calves and my thighs, drawing blood from the wound. I was losing my resolve to fight and to push through the pain.

The man then brought it back to my torso, and thrusted it against me. I felt my ribs cracking and popping. Pain throbbed from my chest, and it grew stronger with each thrust I endured.

Again and again he beat me, the wood and nails digging into my skin and bruising it well. Moments later I found my eyes slowly falling closed as each thrust collided with my body.

Before my eyes could close completely I felt the wood thrust against my back, causing tremendous pain to my spine. If I had the ability I would have crumbled to the ground.

"You're gonna pay for this. You were supposed to be mine. You are not his. Mine, and mine alone!" The man growled, pointing a finger at me. I look away, only for him to force my face towards him.

"I think it's time you went to sleep, sweetheart~" he purred just as he thrusted the butt of his knife against my head, sending me back to my dreamscape.

~~~

Spencer found his phone once he heard it begin to ring. He'd been eyeing it since he'd finished the geographical map. He could only hope and pray that whoever called him would have some sort of good news. She had been missing for four days. Five now. And they weren't any closer to finding her.

JJ had gone on TV for a press conference. Try and bring the unsub out since most like to inject themselves into the investigation. Spencer had been against it. He'd seen time and time again what happened to the agents that unsubs found out what they were. Prentiss had gotten a beating for it while Reid had to stand back.

But this was the best course of action, according to Hotch. And Spencer had no choice but to agree with him for now.

When his phone began to ring, Spencer jumped in his seat and immediately answered, having seen it was Hotch.

"H-hotch, tell me you've got something." Spencer begs, not even trying to hide his worry anymore.

"Zander Harrison Edison. He's the owner of the bookstore. The employees all agreed to him fitting the profile. He has a wife and a daughter. And has been reported to flirt with a majority of the female customers." Hotch reads off. "I got Garcia working on an address now. But we need you down here. Just for when we have one." Hotch informs, his speech a little quicker than normal. He was probably hurrying out of the book store to get to the SUV.

Spencer let out an audible sigh of relief and his hand finally loosened it's tight and tense grip. "Yes, o-of course Hotch. I got a geographical pinpoint I can send her before I head out." Spencer offered as he began to gather his things in a haste to get to Y/N as quickly as possible.

"Reid, calm down. She's going to be alright. And sure. That'll help her get the address narrowed down for us. Just hurry, we don't have much time to lose." Hotch agreed with Spencer, the sound of a car beginning to start sounding in the background.

Spencer took a shallow breath and nodded. "R-right...r-right I just gotta… j-just gotta calm d-down…" he says with uncertainty. He hangs up the phone and immediately begins to head towards Garcia's office with the geographical pinpoint he had narrowed.

Spencer's feet couldn't carry him any faster than they did as he hurried towards the technical analyst's cave. Spencer hastily knocked and pounded on the wooden door much harder than he intended to, bringing an impatient Garcia from her office.

"In case you haven't heard, we're a little busy right now with a kidnapped-" Garcia began to scold before he noticed Spencer’s hurried and worried expression. "Oh, Reid. Sorry you don't...don't usually knock that hard. I'm finding the address as we speak-" she starts.

"I-i've got the geographical location, Garcia. It-" he sighed, messing with his tie nervously. "It'll help." He says, as his eyes wandered around anxiously.

Garcia nods and gestures for Spencer to go ahead. "Alright then, lay it on me my love." She prompts, turning her chair around and swerving into her desk.

Spencer nodded hesitantly and then began to detail the geographical pinpoint. "Try around the downtown Quantico area. Specifically the more suburban areas. This guy has a basement he's keeping her in." He lists off, pulling back his fingers from his fists as if counting each detail.

Garcia smiles slightly as she types. "Perfect, just imput the owner and/or the renter of the home and-" Garcia trails for a moment. "There, (Random Quantico suburban address here). Go get your Princess, Reid." Garcia insists, handing him a sticky note with the address.

Spencer took the note with no hesitation and spun on his heels towards the exit of the building. "Will do." He replies as his paces grow wider and he finds himself run-walking down the stairs instead of the elevator.

He was going to find you. You were going to be okay.

~~~

I was unlucky enough to wake up only an hour later. Thankfully, he was gone. And I was alone. I hung from the ceiling like a pig in a slaughterhouse. It certainly felt that way too.

My ankles were thankfully not chained. The cold metal digging into my wrists was enough.

I squeezed my eyes shut again, and tried to imagine Spencer once more. Maybe fall asleep again. Seeing him again seemed like a lost cause now. Maybe he'll find someone who doesn't jump into situations without thinking like Morgan. Maybe she'll bring him more happiness than I ever did. And maybe she'll get along with everybody better than I did. Maybe he'll want to marry her too-

Before I knew it tears were cascading down my cheeks. No. No, I couldn't give up yet. We've found people who've been missing for weeks. Though of course that's a rarity. But it still happens.

I'm still alive. As long as that's true, there's hope for me yet.

I heaved as air desperately tried to enter my lungs from this position. Everytime I tried to pull up enough to breathe, the harsh and rusted metal cuffs dug farther into my skin.

I hissed as the cuffs felt sharper around my wrists. I recalled the pictures of the other two victims. They too had deep abrasions on their wrists. Guess they got this treatment too.

I gripped the chains loosely, trying to give my wrists a break from the harsh edge of the cuffs. I dreaded his return. Knowing it was just going to be more torture. He'd gotten his taste of me. Now he just wanted to see me bleed.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps above me. I swallowed nervously, bracing myself for whatever he had planned for me next. But that's when I heard the thud of a door being kicked in. My heart skipped a beat as I heard it, hoping for the love of God it was who I thought it was.

Then the footsteps got quicker and they pounded against the floor above me. I heard a hurried turning of the knob to the door of the basement, before another thud was heard and a plethora of curses followed it.

My chest got painfully tighter with the hopefulness that I was saved. That maybe… maybe he'd come for me. But the pain was worth it.

The knob was turned hastily and the door opened. I still couldn't help but lose my breath for a moment. This could all be a misunderstanding. He could be coming down here to kill me.

But then I saw the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes turn the corner and break at the sight of me hanging from the ceiling.

"She's down here! I need a medic!" Spencer called back up the stairs. He then raced to my side, trying desperately to undo the cuffs.

"Y/N… Y-Y/N s-sweetheart…" he whispered, looking at me heartbroken. I swallowed hard and gestured towards the desk in the corner of the tiny basement.

"O-over th-there. T-the keys…" I whisper hoarsely. My voice must've died on me from all the screaming. Spencer nodded and quickly spun around and grabbed the keys from the cluttered desk of weapons the man used on me.

Spencer swallowed harshly as he took in the tools that lay against the wood of the desk. Many of them still had blood on them, previously used. It ached deep in his heart. He turned his head away from them and focused on her. On the only one who mattered right now.

Spencer brought the keys back towards me and quickly unlocked the cuffs. I fall into his arms and he wraps them around me tenderly. "Y/N...t-thank God…" he whispered. His large hand raised up and cradled my head. "I-i'm sorry… s-so..so sorry…" he whispered into my ear, crying as he held me.

I, although exhausted, found a smile pulling at my lips. "F-for what? F-finding me?" I teased, trying and failing to put my feet on the ground.

Spencer slightly chuckled and pulled me up farther into his arms. "N-no… not that…" he sighed, pulling me as close as his arms and my body would allow. "Don't put your feet down. Your ankles are still fractured sweetheart." He slightly teases back. I let out a small, tired laugh.

"S-spence…" I whisper. "P-please… did-" I begin to ask hesitantly. He nods. "He's been taken care of, Y/N. He's in our custody now. I promise." He says, gently caressing my cheek.

I lean into his touch and sigh in relief. Soon after, Morgan comes down into the basement and almost scares the shit out of me.

"Thank God…" Morgan sighed in relief upon seeing me. He then turned to Spencer. "Reid, help me carry her up to the paramedics." He insisted. Spencer nodded and began to hoist one of my arms over Morgan’s shoulder to help carry me. "I got you, baby girl. You're safe now." He assured me. I nodded weakly as my eyelids began to fall from exhaustion.

They carried me up the stairs and helped to lay me onto the stretcher that was brought into the house. The paramedics then brought me out to the ambulance. Spencer was by my side the entire time.

The paramedics hoisted me into the ambulance and began to work on me and my injuries. It was by around now that I began to really fall asleep. Finally able to sleep without the fear of waking up to a beating.

One of the paramedics looked to Spencer as he watched Y/N as they began to prepare to head to the ER. "You coming?" He asked. "We don't have long for her."

Reid looked to Hotch, hoping to be given leave enough to be with Y/N in the ambulance. Hotch nodded. "Go on, Reid. We'll take care of it from here." He assures.

Spencer smiled at Hotch without another word. He turned around again and entered the ambulance, sitting beside Y/N as the engine started up and they began to drive away.

Spencer leaned farther and closer towards Y/N, feelings of both relief and sorrow washing over him. He had her back. She was safe. She wasn't dead. She was very much alive.

~~~

Hours later Spencer sat in the waiting room for an update on Y/N. He had been separated from her immediately once they arrived, having no news of her afterwards. Anxiety was all he knew as he dreaded what the doctors were going to say about her injuries. Just how much pain Zavier had caused her. What he did to her.

JJ, Prentiss, and Morgan all flowed into the waiting room, smiling as they found Spencer bent over with his face deep in his hands.

"Hey Reid. So… any updates?" Morgan asks, trying to give his friend some space. Spencer rubbed his face tiredly and shook his head.

"Nothing. Not since we got here." He says with a hard sigh. Emily frowned and caressed his shoulder.

"She'll be alright. We'll get the evidence we need and she'll only have some scars. I'm sure." Emily assures, giving Spencer a gentle look.

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose but nodded. They were probably right. "Probably…" he says softly, looking around once more in hopes that the doctor would come through the door.

Each opening of the door into the actual ER got Spencer worked up. He kept thinking it was the doctor or a nurse calling him back to see her. To see Y/N. But alas, it was not. Time and time again, each and every turn of the knob wasn't for him.

JJ sighed. "I should've taken this case more seriously when it came across my desk, Reid. Especially when the girls looked like Y/N…" she apologizes, looking down at her feet in shame.

Spencer looked up and shook his head. "There was nothing you could've done that would have kept him away from her, JJ. Or prevented him seeing her. He'd already had his eye on her and-" Spencer took a deep breath. "My point being that it isn't your fault. Alright?" He promises, looking up at JJ from where he sat.

JJ sighed and crossed her arms, holding her sides uncomfortably. "I still don't like this. He literally kept her down there and his wife did nothing. This is reminding me of Janice and Cameron Hooker all over again." She groaned, looking towards the hospital entrance as Hotch and Rossi entered.

"How is she?" Hotch asks, standing next to JJ and next to where Morgan sat.

Morgan answered for Spencer in a matter of seconds. "No news yet. They still got her back in intensive care. They'll let us know when she's stable, I guess." He shrugged.

Spencer sighed again and ran another hand through his hair. Hotch noticed this and spoke up.

"How are you handling this, Reid? I can give you a few days off with her after she's out to get settled. If that'll be alright." Hotch suggested. Spencer felt unease begin to grow in his belly. He almost spoke up on it until Hotch finished his portion of the conversation. "Afterwards I plan to arrange for her to work at her desk and help Garcia. To put both of your minds at ease." Hotch assured. "We cannot have either of you constantly worrying about the other's well-being while on the job for the next few weeks."

Spencer’s uneasiness immediately faded and was replaced with a feeling of relief once more. He let a small smile find its way onto his face and nodded to Hotch's suggestion.

"Y-yeah… I think I'd like that." He says softly.

Not a moment later the door opens and a nurse begins calling for Reid. "Is there a Dr. Spencer Reid here?" The nurse calls.

Spencer rose to his feet in an instant, biting his lip anxiously. "T-that's me." He answered.

The nurse nodded. "Alright, well we just finished her surgery. She's got a few cracked ribs and one fractured one. She also has some minor damage to her spine. But other than that, just a medium concussion. She's asking for you, by the way." The nurse announces, smiling gently.

Spencer again couldn't help the smile that teased at his lips when he heard Y/N was asking for him. He followed the nurse back into the ER and towards the recovery room. His heart slightly pounded as he wandered closer and closer to Y/N.

Then, he saw her.

Laying in a hospital bed angled slightly up to support her spine, laid Y/N. She looked up at Spencer with tired eyes, smiling at him instantly.

"Spence…" she called. Spencer was glad to answer to it. He found himself placed at her side immediately, pulling her gently close so as to not damage what the doctors had fixed.

"Y/N… sweetheart…" he called in a soft whisper, kissing the nape of her neck gently. She hummed softly and held her arms limply around his neck.

"Spencer… I-I'm sorry… f-for the a-arguing. I j-just-" she began, pulling slightly away from him, although she could not find anything else she feared more.

Spencer shook his head and pulled her into a full kiss, cupping her bandaged and bruised cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away her incoming tears and caressed her cheek lovingly. She pressed her lips against his moreso, relief flooding her senses.

She let herself collapse into his embrace and his kiss, ignoring the pain that came with moving too far forward. Spencer laid her back against the bed to prevent any more injury before he continued to kiss her gently. He'd wanted this for a week. And now he had it.

After a long moment, Y/N reluctantly pulled away from the long-overdo kiss. She let Spencer’s touch remain on her cheek as he continued to hold her. "Sweetheart, none of that matters to me anymore. You're alive. You're breathing. That's all I need right now." He says sweetly, kissing her forehead as tenderly and as gently as he could.

Y/N let out a soft giggle and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Dr. Reid." She teased. Spencer chuckled softly in return.

"I love you too, Y/N."

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #kidnapping

17 notes · View notes

glitterandmoondustofficial · 5 years ago

Text

Side To Side

Chapter 189: Thine Are Mine

Characters: Law, Ruby Rating: Teen Warnings: Language, Depression Notes: How is everyone? Keeping safe? Staying hydrated?

~~~~~~

Law was in a bad mood.

He said he didn’t regret leaving Doflamingo alive, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset about the situation. Ruby blamed herself. She got kidnapped. She didn’t actually need his help, but she knew he would come for her.

“Hey, honey?” Ruby said cautiously.

Law squinted his eyes and eyed her suspiciously. “You only call me that when you want something or are drunk.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“So you’re drunk.”

“It’s 10:00 AM.” He stared at her. “I’m not drunk. I was trying to see if you needed anything.”

He sighed. “I’m fine...I just need time to...decompress.”

Ruby frowned, but understood. “Alright.” She walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

“I know.” He rubbed her elbow. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Ruby pulled away and walked past him, out of their bedroom. She sighed. He would come to her if he needed her. Hopefully.

~~~~~

Law had his head in his hands as he sat on the bed. He was so frustrated. He was so angry. He was doing his best not to blame Ruby. He was fighting it with every bone in his body, but it kept bubbling up in his chest.

He knew she got captured because she wasn’t paying attention. No, he knew she got captured because she was trying to protect Ikkaku and Jun, avoid being shot, and was running in heels with a permanently damaged foot. He can’t get mad at her.

But he was so mad. He was so frustrated. He saved her. He’d always save her. When she asked if it was alright he kissed her instead. He was relieved she was alright, but a small part of him wished that he hadn’t gone to save her. She had already saved herself by the time he got to her, so it's not like she would've died.

He groaned and leaned back onto the bed. He was in a shitty mood and he needed to not be around Ruby. He didn’t want to start an argument or, worse, hurt her feelings. But she was so insistent on helping him. He had a feeling she got the message, she had enough common sense.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath. He covered his eyes and frowned deeply. He was so frustrated. He felt tears well up in his eyes. “Fuck.”

Everything came crashing down. He saw his parents, Lammy, and Cora-san. Their memories played in his head. He was so close. He could have kept the crew safe; he could’ve given Ruby her cottage; he could’ve been free.

He wiped the tears from his cheeks that wouldn’t stop flowing. His life was replaying in his mind as he sunk further and further into depression and frustration. He was hopeless.

Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t Ruby just take care of herself? How the hell did that woman survive all those years before when all she did was fuck up and get hurt all the time now?

He was so close.

It was so damn close to being over.

~~~~~

Ruby walked into her bedroom. She looked around the room. Law wasn’t here. Which meant one thing: he was avoiding her. He hadn’t come to see her once all day. Not to check inventory; not to have lunch; not to have dinner. She hadn’t seen him since they said goodbye at 10:00 AM.

Her stomach churned and she swallowed. She knew he was frustrated. She knew he wasn’t okay. He just let the opportunity to end his life’s work slip away because...she let out a breath. She was going to shower.

She stood in the shower after she undressed and closed her eyes. She let the hot water run down her head and over her body. She had no idea how to deal with Law. He couldn’t avoid her forever. She didn’t even know what to say to him.

“Sorry that I’m the reason you didn’t get your revenge?”

Yeah, she was sure that would go over well.

She heard footsteps into the bathroom and looked through the shower door.

“Do you want to shower?” She asked Law.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get out.

“Don’t worry about it. I can wait until you're done.”

“It’s fine, I’ve been in here awhile.” She opened the door and stepped out. She reached for her towel and started to dry herself. “Go ahead and get in,” she said and wrapped the towel around her. She walked over to the counter and picked up her hair dryer.

She noticed Law staring at her for a bit. He walked over and reached for her hand. “You’re hurt.”

“What?”

“Your wrists.”

Ruby looked at her wrist. She saw some red, raw marks on her wrists where the handcuffs were. “Ah, I guess. It doesn’t hurt so whatever. Not the first time this has happened.” Law frowned at her. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Uh, not worry?” He stared at her flatly. She leaned in and kissed his cheek very slowly. He scoffed and created a small Room around her wrist. The raw skin healed up instantly. Ruby frowned. “You don’t have to waste your energy on something stupid like that.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m going to shower.”

“Alright.”

He let go of her wrist and started to undress himself. Ruby took a deep breath and turned on her hair dryer. She stared at herself in the mirror. He was definitely still upset. She sighed and started to dry her hair, looking at the foggy glass of the shower in the mirror.

She’ll talk to him when he’s ready.

~~~~~~

Law watched Ruby brush her hair silently. She shifted uncomfortably. The tension was pretty high. They both knew what was going on and they were both cowards for not talking about it. Ruby placed her brush on the nightstand. She looked over to him nervously. She twiddled her thumbs in her lap.

“Um,” she started. “Are you coming to bed?”

“I...we need to talk.” He sighed.

Ruby nodded stiffly and averted her gaze. The silence grew between them, neither knowing how to actually start the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Ruby said quietly.

“For?”

“You know what.”

Law sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you manage to survive alone for so long?” Ruby scratched her arm. “Ruby.”

“I just did.”

“Then how is it you manage to get captured or hurt or almost killed every time I look away?” She rubbed her hands. “You have got to take better care of yourself.” She didn’t answer. “Ruby.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know if it’s because I’m relaxed because I don’t have to just scrape by to survive or if it’s because I know I can lean on you guys or what.”

“You need to figure it out. I cannot save your ass every time something goes wrong.”

“I know. I said I was sorry.”

“Sometimes that’s not good enough.”

Ruby frowned deeply. “You said it was okay. You were fine last night.”

“No, I didn’t say anything. And that’s besides the point.”

“Then why didn’t you just leave us?”

“I can’t just leave my crew!”

“I told you I had it covered! Do you have such little faith in me?”

“Yes! Because all you do is get hurt! You have done nothing but get hurt since you’ve joined. I’m always having to take care of you! It’s unfathomable how inept you are at surviving sometimes!”

Ruby looked away, her face turning red. Law closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now that he shouted at her he didn’t know what to say. Ruby rubbed her arms but didn’t look at him. She had a deep, depressed frown on her face and tears were in the corner of her eyes. This wasn’t what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. She shrugged in response. He felt his frustration rise again but shoved it down. “I’m sorry I shouted at you.” She didn’t answer and tears rolled down her face. Fuck. This was absolutely what he was trying to avoid.

Guilt welled up in his chest. He stared at his lover, who was shrinking away from him. He felt like crying. The words just spilled out of his mouth. He’s so frustrated and angry that he took it out on her and it wasn’t her fault. It was his choice to leave Doflamingo. He chose to rescue Ruby. He didn’t regret going to her. He’d always come for her.

“Ruby…” he tried. He was so shocked that she ended up shrinking away and crying. He expected her to fight back. To get stubborn and hotheaded because she was stubborn and hotheaded. And it just made him realize that he really did end up hurting her and he was a moron. “Ruby I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” she said quietly and wiped her cheek.

“No, it’s not,” he sighed. “Today has been rough, and I’m taking it out on you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. Ruby looked over to him, red tinged the corner of her eyes. “I've been avoiding you because I didn’t know what to say to you. And of course, when I finally did I fucking snapped.” He groaned and covered his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one who left the scene. I chose to rescue you and I’d do it again, but it’s not just that that’s been upsetting me. All the regret I’m facing has caused those wounds from before to reopen, and that’s definitely not your fault. None of this is actually your fault. I know you could’ve escaped on your own. I do have faith in you.” He frowned. “Don’t think I regret saving you over killing him.” Ruby sniffed. “My life is filled with regret, and I’m just...reliving it all right now.” He walked over and sat next to her.

“I’m sorry, mo chuisle.” She lifted her hand up and cupped his cheek.

“Not sure I deserve this after snapping at you like I did.”

“That’s not going to stop me from loving you.”

Law frowned and covered her hand with his. He leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ve been having a hard time today.” He whispered. “I feel like a failure.” Ruby wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back, burying his face in her neck. “I wish none of this shit happened to me.”

“I know.” She rubbed his back. “I’m going to take care of you.” He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his face. They sat quietly in the dim light of their bedroom. His eyebrow piercing brushed against her skin and he let out a shaky sigh.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

“You’re not that terrible.” She stopped rubbing his back. “Your life sucks, sometimes you get frustrated about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I should take it out on you.”

Ruby patted his back. “Well, I’ll forgive you this time. Next time I’m kicking you out of my room.”

“Your room? Last I checked this was the captain’s quarters.” He lifted his head up and stared at her.

“You heard me.” She leaned in and kissed his nose. “Love you, Law. Don’t forget that okay? I’m here for you when you need me.” She reached for his cheek and rubbed the tear that managed to escape. “As long as you don’t yell at me.”

He chuckled. “Right.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll remember that.”

He collapsed on the bed and sighed. Ruby rubbed his leg. “I know you’re not going to get to sleep tonight, but did you want me to hold you until I fall asleep?”

“Yeah.”

Ruby smiled and laid down next to him. “Come on, you. Before I change my mind and beat your ass for yelling at me.”

Law turned into her, burying his face in her chest. “I already feel better.”

“Because your face is in my tits?”

He nodded. Ruby snorted and rubbed his arm. Law wrapped his arms around her and sighed through his nose.

“Hey,” he called her.

“Hm?”

“Sorry.”

“I know.” Her nails brushed against his arm. “Make it up to me when you’re feeling better, hon. Right now, go ahead and get some rest. I’ll be here for you all night.”

Law frowned deeply and shut his eyes tight. “Ruby, I,” he breathed. “I’m tired of this.” Ruby rubbed his back. “I can’t rest until…” he sniffed and squeezed her.

“Well,” she whispered to him softly. “In the meantime, I’ll be here for you.”

Law closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of her heartbeat. He took a deep breath. He whispered his thanks and relaxed to the feel of the soft feeling of her nails brushing against his skin. He wasn’t going to sleep, but the sound of her heartbeat calmed him enough to ease his mind.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #lawxoc #law x oc #trafalgar law #side to side #sela ruby #ruby sela

6 notes · View notes