#SHE LOOKS PERFECTLY GENDER NOTHING IN THE WAY I WANT
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With gential surgery, typically referred to as bottom surgery in the trans community, there are a lot of options out there. And it's not really any riskier than any other major surgery. The cost also varies significantly by region. For example, I live in the UK, where bottom surgery is covered by the NHS as long as you have the patience to wait for it. Other forms of gender affirming surgery, such as facial feminisation surgery, are actually more expensive here since you have to get those privately. So it's more common for trans people here to get bottom surgery eventually. Especially if the NHS route is the only viable gender affirming care option for them.
Personally I wouldn't say genitals are the only thing that factor into sexuality. For example, there are a lot of trans men that "pass" very well, but don't get bottom surgery for a variety of reasons. Would you say the average lesbian would be attracted to some trans dude who happens to have a vulva but looks like a cis man in every other way just because he has a vulva? While genitals can be an important factor in sexuality for a lot of people, they aren't for everyone.
This topic is a way more nuanced than "if you wouldn't date a trans woman you're transphobic", and I feel like a lot of the nuance gets lost in translation. It can be very difficult to articulate a point clearly when you feel like your existence is under threat, and it results in trans people lashing out. That's how you end up with some of the wild takes seen on this site and others.
I'd say the actual truth is more "there's nothing inherently transphobic about not wanting to date a trans woman." This is the most common take within the trans community as well, though it is often phrased closer to "if you wouldn't date a trans woman you might have some transphobia to unpack."
There are hundreds of reasons people give as to why they wouldn't date or sleep with a trans person. And some of them are absolutely transphobic. Here are a few examples:
"I wouldn't date a trans woman because I want my partner to have a similar life experience to me"
Not transphobic, it's a simple compatibility thing. Plenty of trans people are t4t for the same reason.
"I wouldn't date a trans woman because I'm a lesbian."
Uh oh, there could be some transphobia here. This statement does imply you see trans women as a subsection of men, which is a transphobic belief.
"I wouldn't date a trans woman because I'm a lesbian and am uncomfortable with dick."
Probably not transphobic, though if you'd still rule out a trans woman who'd had bottom surgery based purely on the fact she used to have a penis then we're heading in transphobic territory.
The main point of the trans community isn't that you have to be willing to date or sleep with a trans woman. It's more that it's worth unpacking why you wouldn't. It could be for a any number of perfectly valid reasons. But it could also be because you still see trans women as men on some level, which is an aspect of transphobia. This point isn't always articulated very clearly, but it is the fundamental meaning of what trans people are saying.
I do get how the frustration at being called transphobic for a genital preference could result in you lashing out and failing to articulate your point clearly and respectfully. But the fact still remains that saying "if, as a woman, you're attracted to transwomen too, you're not a lesbian you're bisexual" is both a homophobic statement and a transphobic one.
If you're a transwomen and you're attracted to women, you're not a lesbian. You're straight. You're a heterosexual male. Being transgender doesn't change your sex. Males who're attracted to the opposite sex are called heteroSEXuals.
Lesbians are women who're attracted to other women, the same sex. Lesbians are homoSEXual females. If as a women you're attracted to transwomen (biological males) too, you're not a lesbian, you're bisexual.
Why is this so hard to understand???
If you call a lesbian transphobic for not wanting to date trangender women, you're a homophobe.
#''biological sex'' in general is way more complicated than ''male'' and ''female''. So any definition of sexuality that relies on it too#heavily falls apart when you think about it enough
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I wish I looked like Betty but only in her golb form sigghh.. to just be something monstrous.. incomprehensible…
#myosotis rambling :3#something something transition goals except there is no gender and I’ve never had gender ever so there’s nothing to transition I fear#SHE LOOKS PERFECTLY GENDER NOTHING IN THE WAY I WANT#IT SHOULDVE BEEN ME BETTY GROF IT SHOULDVE#not really I would not like to be in your place and I only meant it in your cool form I do not crush on Simon
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Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.
Word Count: 3.8k
Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K
Part two!
After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC.
That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future.
You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field.
It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe).
She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.”
You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all.
The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat.
Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab.
-X-
The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.
“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.
“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?”
“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly.
“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder.
It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes.
She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things.
You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused.
Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen.
As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general.
It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies.
“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face.
“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day.
It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.
Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way.
A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips. When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping his bag a little tighter to him.
“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.”
“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?”
“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”
“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”
He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away.
-X-
“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk.
“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.”
You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent.
The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable.
Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.
It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional.
Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.
He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence.
“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.
“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”
“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading.
“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time.
“S-Spencer, I’m serious.” He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him.
“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”
Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply.
“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away.
But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.
“She said I would what, beautiful?”
He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could.
But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond.
“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”
“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?”
And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.
“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.
-X-
You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space.
Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen.
After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you.
He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office.
In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt.
To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat.
You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention.
“Leaving so soon, princess?”
“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same.
“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer.
“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.”
You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line?
He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you.
“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move.
“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before.
His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face.
“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again.
“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”
“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist, and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now.
“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat.
He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed.
He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?”
You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now
“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.
“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.
“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind.
You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day.
“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?” You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him.
“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands. Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands.
“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night.
-X-
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#Criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#Criminal minds fic#Spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x y/n#Spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#Spencer reid x oc#Spencer reid drabble#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid imagine#Criminal minds smut#maturereiding
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use somebody 2 | spencer reid
part one here
summary; spencer dreaded the day he would see you with anything other than a frown on your face, when that day comes, spencer would do anything to bring your sweet smile back.
warnings; some mean police man being sexist and mean to fem reader, protective spencer, fluff, a little angst but like barley any, will there be a love confession??? read and find out!
an; idk im dying. thank u. mgg hand mention
Spencer wasn’t the biggest fan of the jet before you joined the bau. He didn’t have any particular issue with it, there was nothing he could really fault or use as an explanation as to why he wasn’t a big fan of it but it was just boring, he would read and then reread books, then try and sleep.
Then you joined the team and suddenly the jet was one of his favourite places, because you would sit next to him. You would ramble about a new show you were watching or a flower you had seen on the side of the road, and lately you would tell him about your dog. He would get to listen to you talk and get to watch you smile and flap your arms around as you got increasingly more excited as your ramble went on.
On the way home if you were feeling too tired to excitedly ramble about something random you would just sit next to him and let him ramble, the same excited smile on your face nonetheless as you paid the at most attention to whatever it was he was talking about, listening intently and asking questions almost as if you just wanted to keep him talking.
He didn’t mind.
Your plans to watch the documentary he recommended at your house were quickly ruined by the notice that you had a case that would take over the span of your weekend.You had apologised profusely to Spencer as if he didn’t technically cancel on you just as much as you did him. He didn’t mind, he got to spend time with you either way.
In a sort of twisted way, he preferred working a case with you. At least this way you were around him rather than spending your weekends around anyone else. He wondered if that was creepy and controlling and if he said it aloud it would probably end in him over explaining how he just hated the idea of anything happening to you, or you meeting someone else.
You were too kind, for anyone. Especially him.
Thats why he was immensely annoyed when the Police Sheriff of the station they were at in Louisiana, decided to nit-pick every little thing you did. He wondered if the Sheriff was just insanely insecure or if maybe it was a gender issue.
He settled on the latter when the comments ended up going towards Emily, and JJ as well. Just a little bit more towards you, maybe because regardless you continue smiling at him or muttering out soft apologies for whatever minor thing you had done that the policeman had an issue with.
There were many times Spencer wanted to speak up, or shove the old mans faced into a wall — but then you’d smile sweetly at Spencer and he remembered you were a grown woman, you were perfectly capable of taking care and defending yourself. Regardless of this information, Spencer stayed a little closer to you throughout the day.
“Alright, giggle guts, whatcha got for me?” Penelope said over the phone after she had heard your mumble out a cheery hello once it went through. Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, mostly because he saw your smile widen and a string of laughter leaving your lips, the sound melodic in his ears.
The sound of your laughter only made a small laugh puff out Spencer’s lips because it was so sweet and so beautiful that it was contagious and he couldn’t help it.
“Well, you gorgeous amazing girl. I need you to look up this guy’s medical history, please” the manner was added so sweetly and softly on the end. The compliments left your lips effortlessly, the sound of your voice and the evident smile in it made Spencer’s heart happy.
Penelope said something over the phone but it was inaudible over the sound of Sheriff standing in the corner of the room scoffing. Your eyes flickered upwards towards the sound, eyebrows pinching together in slightly confusion. Everyone’s expression mirroring your own.
Spencer felt dread fill his stomach and over every goosebump on his skin, dread to fear whatever spiteful unnecessary criticism the man would have to offer. The criticism absolutely no one asked for.
“Whats the issue?” Hotch spoke up, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down the sheriff. Was it in a protective manner? Nobody was sure really, the elder’s expression remaining unreadable.
The sheriff kicked off the wall to stand a little stranger, looking at hotch than back to you. “Unprofessional. This is why this is a man’s job. Sensitive squishy women who think life is all sunshine and rainbow are not fit for a job like this.”
Everyone went silent, your lips parted before closing, unsure of how to reply to something so unnecessarily mean. Spencer’s expression hardened. The room fell into an awkward tension, nobody moving or saying anything.
You pushed out a laugh, “Damn okay.. Tell me what you really think” You muttered under your breath, a joke.
Spencer would’ve laughed at your comment, your way to bring light to a room that had been made so dark but he could see the hurt in your eyes and he felt his heart strings pull against his chest, he wanted to reach out and grab your hand, reassure you that you were perfect for this job.
He was pissed. Actually. There wasn’t a lot that could make Spencer mad — this however was one of the few things that did. He shuffled uncomfortably, finding it difficult to hold his tongue. He could tell Emily and JJ was uncomfortable by the comment made.
Hotch opened his mouth to talk but Spencer had beat him to it. “You’re probably, what 65?” He said, his tone of voice curt and blunt it made your heart turn in Spencer’s direction.
The police officer furrowed his eyebrows, yet nodded anyways. Spencer hummed in response, sitting up a little bit straighter as he leant forward to rest his forearms against the conference table the team had been gathered around.
“Right, so by assumption and well — biology. You are actually probably the least reliable person in this room right now, despite age or gender. Your pace is significantly slower than anyone on your team, and i don’t think I even need to compare you to our team because I don’t wish to further embarrass you or hurt your fragile masculinity much more.” Spencer started.
Your head had fully turned towards his now, eyebrows quipped and eyes widened in shock because you weren’t expecting Spencer of all people to come to your defence. Not because you didn’t think he cared but because the boy could hardly defend himself, you just hadn’t expected him to defend you.
“And actually — we use psychology, which women are actually significantly more successful in because of their ability of understanding, gender plays little to no role in our field of work. Its also ironic since I know you heard Derek on the phone to Garcia, you had no issue with what he had said — so I’m very sure that whatever issue you have, is purely because your masculinity feels threatened by girls who are doing a job you couldn’t fathom. Either get your mind out of the 1800’s or get away from our team.”
“Spence” His head turned towards your voice, taking in your wide eyes and parted lips in shock. He had honestly lost himself in the midsts of his ramble, unable to help it because someone had made you upset. The sweetest, kindest, gentlest person was made to feel bad by a way too old male who was clearly unable to adjust to the way the world was evolving.
“Sorry” Spencer apologised for his ramble. The door slammed shut as the policeman left the room, and Spencer felt a strange sense of pride when he looked back up at you to see a gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you pulled your eyes away from him back to the phone.
“Sorry about that pen.. Those medical records?”
Your smiled returned throughout the rest of the day, Hotch had gone out of his way to talk to the Sheriff and although nobody else had any idea what the conversation between the two included, it was clearly enough to make the Sheriff stay far far away from you and the rest of the team whenever possible.
Although your smile returned, Spencer could almost instantly notice the drastic difference. Maybe it was actually minor because no one else noticed, or maybe he just spent too much time admiring your pretty smile. Either way, he knew he didn’t like it.
“Spence” You said the nickname, a hint of curiosity lacing your tone. his head lifted towards yours with furrowed eyebrows and a small nod of acknowledgement. He repeated your name back to you in the same sort of curious tone.
He watched as you sat up a little bit straighter, meeting his eyes, offering him a smile before you head dipped down again and a gentle breath left your lips. “Do you think I’m unprofessional?” You asked, voice small and gentle and Spencer felt his heart ache so tensely it caused physical pain in his chest.
“No” He answered immediately. The rest of the team were out looking over the crime scenes while he opted for staying back with you while you looked for any connecting links between files. “I think you are very professional. You’re kind but that doesn’t make you unprofessional.” He added, quick to reassure any doubt that weighed down on your pretty mind.
You hummed gently, “But-“ He didn’t let you finish or come up with any sort of argument, he wouldn’t have it. He refused to let man who was balding make you feel any less about yourself.
“But nothing.” He said, his voice stern and final yet so gentle. “He was mean and sexist, if anyone is unprofessional it’s him. You are amazing at what you do, you are smart and kind and everyone who meets you loves you. You’re safe, for everyone. Victims especially. Not everyone has that about them” He said.
It was true, when working cases victims gravitated towards you and your comfort and kindness, if there was someone to trust it was you. Kids and witnesses were always more inclined to talk to you than anyone else on the team because there was something so sweet and welcoming and safe about you.
“You do” You said, tilting your head a little as you looked up at Spencer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion as to what you meant, but his heart skipped a beat anyways.
“You have that something safe about you.” You said, noticing the confusion that covered his features. His heart warmed and ached all at once. Spencer was glad, so so so glad that you found him safe, that he was able to make you feel that way — Honestly he was happy he had any effect on you whatsoever.
“You think so?” He asked, voice a little quieter as he held your gaze. He was scared that if he spoke any louder he may break the fragile moment. You nodded, a small smile on your face, a real smile.
“Mhm, I think thats why I got so comfortable with you so quickly. You’re so.. safe, and smart i think i trust anything you say so please don’t lie to me because that would end really badly for me, and probably give me trust issues and then i will never trust anyone again — and well thats just not good” You rambled out dramatically. Spencer’s smile widened for a series of reasons.
“I would never lie to you.” He said gently, voice carrying a hint of something more, honesty and truth and so much longing it was almost embarrassing, he hoped you missed the way his voice went up an octave.
“Okay good.” You smiled.
Your gaze lingered on Spencer’s for a moment before you turned your head away. He felt like the room had gotten too warm, he had to refrain from the urge to loosen his tie and rub the sweat away from his forehead.
“Did you like the book?” You asked, fingertips grazing over the folder of the case file you were supposed to be reading. Spencer’s eyes followed the movement of your hand before returning to the side of your face.
He nodded, mind going back to the words highlighted in blue and suddenly the room really was too warm, he could feel his palms growing disgustingly sweaty. “I loved it, actually.” Much less because of the context of the story and moreso because you had gifted it to him.
You shook your head as you lifted it to look at him, a smile playing on your lips. He was glad that was back, the sweet genuine smile on your face that could probably drown out any bad day.
“Im gonna be honest, I hate annotating books. I think pages should be left undrawn on, and crisp and beautiful but you like annotating books so i figured.. Um.. That it was a good way to tell you how I felt” You mumbled out, and Spencer was both insanely fond of you going out of your way to do something you disliked for him, and also immensely confused by what you meant.
“How you felt?” He furrowed his eyebrows and he watched as your face went through series of expressions before your eyes widened and your lips parted.
“Oh!” You huffed out, realising he had not understood what you were trying to do and you were now giving yourself away massively. “Oh thats— Really embarrassing actually.” You said as you smiled anyways, bringing your hands up to press against your flush cheeks to try and sooth the warmth.
His eyebrows pinched together as he sat up a little straighter, “No- What? What do you mean?” He asked, he found it sweet what you had highlighted and he didn’t see at all how that was embarrassing, or something he should be making a big deal out of.
You huffed out a laugh, “You’re smart Spencer, and a profiler. Im sure you can figure it out.” You said sweetly before pushing your chair out from the table, standing up. He wanted to reach out but he was stuck trying to figure out what the heck you meant.
“Im going to go get coffee.. Do you want some?” You asked, obviously relishing in his current confusion and obliviousness in order to get yourself out of this all too embarrassing situation if it ended in some sort of rejection you were buying yourself time.
“Um- What? No, No thank you” He answered confused, obviously his mind fixated on what you meant, on what he was missing and trying to figure it out.
You let out a laugh, “You’re sweet.” Before you left the room to get yourself coffee. Spencer’s cheeks warmed instantly at your compliment and if you had stayed longer he might’ve built the courage to argue how insanely ironic it was coming from you.
Instead, he sat confused. His mind going over the two lines highlighted in blue in the book you had gifted him, trying to understand how they referenced how you felt. He made you smile, that was good, he understood that.
But you always smiled. It didn’t take a lot to make you smile so how was that the big confession? Was there some context he was missing. Then he remembered the part of the story the line came from, a love confession. The context of the sentences used.
And suddenly he realised despite his iq, and being a literal genius, he was the biggest idiot on earth.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#reidmania#criminal minds show#criminalmindsfans#spencer reid x reader#spencer criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x oc#criminal minds one shot#dr spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid x plus size reader#spencer reid angst#spencer reid edit#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid smut#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#dr spencer reid mm#dr spencer reid x you
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。*゚+*.✧"Into the looking glass."。*゚+*.✧
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII
Post format: Multipart series
Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader
Word count: 5k
Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?
Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Stalking, Violence, Age Gaps, Teacher/Student, Caretaker/Ward, Bullying
Color indicator: Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible
Another dull morning, you think to yourself, rolling over to turn off your alarm. You pick up your cellphone and blearily swipe your screen as you clamber out of bed. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you really didn’t notice anything was wrong until you stood up and looked in the mirror. You blink, poking at you face and staring where your reflection should be, but isn’t. You wave your hand in front of the mirror. Nothing.
You look around, only to realize that your surroundings are different, too. The room you’re in is plain, cramped, and completely devoid of character. It’s almost liminal, in a way. Eerie in its emptiness.
You need to get out of here.
You nervously reach for the door and twist the handle. The doornob moves with you, but the door remains fixed in place. Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket, quickly turning it on. You’ve gotten a text, but the number is blank.
You have not chosen an avatar yet. Please choose one from the mirror before leaving your room.
Well, that woke you right up. Is someone watching you? You swerve your head around, checking the ceilings and corners for cameras. You try the door again. You go in circles, turning the whole room upside down. You try the door. Nothing. You check your phone. The same message appears as soon as you open it. You swipe it away out of habit, but it refuses to budge. Freaky. The time hasn’t changed since you woke up, either, though you’re sure you’ve been at it for more than fifteen minutes by now.
You decide to take a peek at the mirror again. You try to remove it from the wall to look behind, but your vision goes white the second you make contact with its’ surface. Your vision clears, and in front of you is a grey figure of ambiguous gender. It looks almost made of clay. Your phone buzzes.
Player avatar selection.
Select a sex. Sex cannot be changed after starting the game.
1.) Male 2.) Female 3.) Hermaphrodite
Well, you’ve either fallen asleep or been drugged. Not knowing what else to do, you choose female, watching in horror and fascination as the figure morphs to accommodate your choice.
>Next
Other customization options soon come up. You give the figure your ideal height, weight, and features. You change her skin tone, hair color, texture, and eye color. You watch as she slowly comes to life as your ideal. The person you’ve always wanted to be.
Your phone buzzes just as you finish touching her up.
Set Name
You’re about to name her when the text fills itself in with your name instead.
Welcome, [First]! 1. Start Game!
You grimace, and hit play.
—————————
When you come to, it’s 07:00 again, and you’re still in that room. You glance at the mirror, only to see your avatar glancing back. You wave your arm in front of it, and she mimics your movements perfectly. You make a lewd gesture, and she does, too. Creepy. Is this really a dream? You’re startled out of your thoughts as your phone buzzes once again.
Welcome to the alpha of Degrees of Lewdity!
If you want to avoid trouble, dress modestly and stick to safe, well-lit areas. Nights are particularly dangerous. Dressing lewd will attract attention, both good and bad.
The new school year starts tomorrow at 09:00. The bus service is the easiest way to get around town. Don’t forget your uniform and backpack!
1. Next
Your face pales as you read the text. There’s no way. You hit next, reminding yourself that you’re only in a dream, and that no one can harm you in a dream. Your phone opens to its home screen, where you see various apps, some of which are labled.
-Characteristics -Social -Traits -Journal -Stats -Feats
You open characteristics and take a look. At the very top is a color chart indicator. description of your body’s appearance and condition, underneath are familiar stats.
Purity: 7/7 You are angelic. Physique: 3/6 Your body is average. Willpower: 1/6 You are fainthearted. Awareness: 3/7 You have a normal understanding of sexuality. Promiscuity: 0/6 You are chaste and pure. Exhibitionism: 0/6 You are coy. Deviancy: 0/6 You are squeamish.
Everything seems to be in line with the stats for the beginning of a playthrough. Everything except one.
Beauty: 7/6 Your beauty is beyond measure.
That’s…not good, if the blaring red is anything to go off of, anyway.
You scroll down. Your skills are all ranked as F, which is actually better than the “None” stat they usually start as. That’s weird, but you aren’t complaining. Your sex skills, however…are all at C. That’s super weird! You aren’t sure what to make of it, so you choose to ignore it instead.
Your overall school performance is terrible, with F’s all around the board. In real life, this would mean you’d picked the athlete trait, but your physique is baseline, and your athletic stat is also at F, so it can’t be that. It must just be inconsistencies from being asleep, you reason. That’s why your stats are all over the place.
Your status is normal, aside from your allure. Which is maxed out at “You look like you need to be ravaged.” You shudder.
You check traits. You have two.
Alien - You aren’t from around here! RPG like elements have been incorporated into your reality for a smoother experience. Virgin - Your purity recovers faster. Your virginity might be worth something.
You open your journal.
It is the 4th of September, 2022.
-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.
Current quests:
Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence.
Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting
You turn your phone off and look around. Everything seems normal, too normal. You read somewhere once that it’s impossible (or perhaps just very difficult) to read clearly while in a dream. Could you have been drugged? Or did you take something and then forget about it?
You pinch yourself. Ow.
Well, that’s not solid proof. People have reported cases of feeling pain in dreams before it’s just kind of really rare is all. Or, or! Maybe you’re not dreaming. Maybe you’re dying. Maybe you got into an accident somewhere, and now you’re in a coma. People hallucinate during comas, don’t they?
You pinch yourself, again.
It’s not real.
…You might as well see what this quest is about.
You leave your bedroom, and walk to Bailey’s office. You don’t question how you know the way there. You knock on the door and enter.
“I know why you’re here,” he says. “You want me to release you from my protection, so you’ll be an independent citizen. I could do that. But there’s a problem. You’ve been living under my roof without giving anything in return. You owe me. Until you pay me back, I’m not letting you go.” He picks up an envelope and flips through it. Dozens of identification documents are stored within it. One of them is yours. “£100 should do. To start with. I don’t care how you get it. Knock on doors and ask for work. Rent yourself as a footstool. Steal it, even. Just have it a week from now. Or I’ll find a way to extract value from you.”
You nod and leave his office, returning to your room.
Your phone buzzes as soon as you close the door.
Quest completed. New quest added to journal. View Now?
Y/N
You hit yes.
Time-Sensitive:
Bailey wants £100 on Sunday. Find a job and free yourself from his clutches.
That’s great and all, but maybe you shouldn’t leave the orphanage today…or ever. Not until you wake up. You decide to just download some social media apps and scroll for the rest of the day instead. You scroll until midday, when you’re stopped by your stomach growling. Can you get hungry inside a dream…? You feel uneasy as you climb off the bed. Your neck hurts from the uncomfortable position you had been in, but that’s the least of your worries right now.
You leave your bedroom and enter the main hall. A trim girl happens to be passing by your door, so you stop her and ask about when lunch is. She looks at you strangely.
“Whenever you want…? Just go somewhere and get it. I don’t know.”
“I meant here, can we get food here?”
“Sure, if you’re underage. We have to provide for ourselves once we reach eighteen, though. You know that. Everyone knows that.” She leaves in a hurry. You go back to your room to watch “Gootube” videos. It’s not as pornographic as it sounds.
You stay on your phone for the rest of the day. It never seems to run out of charge. Finally, you turn it off and climb under the covers. You don’t bother to wear pajamas. You sleep soundly, and wake up at 07:00 on Sunday, September 4th.
Wait, what?
You look at your journal again.
Journal
It is the 4th of September, 2022.
-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.
Current quests:
Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence. Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting
But you didn’t fail your quest! You completed it and…
It’s because you didn’t get a job yesterday, isn’t it?
You sigh and climb out of bed. Off to visit Bailey again.
“I know why you’re here,” he says. God, you wish you could skip dialogue in real life. Or in dreams, you guess. Bailey wraps up his speech and you leave, this time heading outside the orphanage to look for work right after.
As expected, you bump into someone almost immediately. A voluptuous woman grabs you. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen all week!” She says, lunging for your clothes. You step back, but she catches you, lifting your sundress’s skirt and revealing your lace panties. You try to grab her hand and pull it away, but she’s stronger than you. She pushes you to the ground, and you land painfully on the sidewalk. You let out an involuntary yelp as your elbows scrape on the pavement. Is she really going to try and molest you out in public like this? It would appear so, as she’s currently straddling your legs with her knees, keeping them apart. You come to your senses when you feel a hand on your groin, and scream out for help.
A taut man comes to your rescue, chasing off the woman and helping you to your feet. He treats your wounds and gives you a pepper spray charge. You thank him and go on your way.
The dog pound is probably the best place to start with, you think to yourself while looking at the map on your phone. So you hop on a bus and wait for your stop, but not before a thin man sits next to you and rests his hand on your thigh. You shuffle away from him, and he follows you. You stand up, and he does, too. No one else is paying attention. You quickly walk to the most crowded area of the bus and sit next to a plush woman. She doesn’t look happy, but doesn’t say anything, either. The thin man watches you from his seat. You reach your destination, and he moves to follow you when you stand. Luckily, a tall man stops him, giving you a thumbs up as he blocks the thin man’s view of you. You give him a grateful nod and step off.
Your shift at the dogpound goes on without incident. Thugh the employees tried to get handsy more than a few times, they never took it further when you moved away. You even took your lunch break at the nearby cafe! You’re surprised by how much character the place had visually, considering it comes from a text-based game.
By the time the dog pound closes, it’s nighttime. You pale at the realization. It’s nighttime, and you’re in Degrees of Lewdity. Should you risk taking the bus? Or should you risk the streets?
If you’re on a bus, you’re there for less time, but it’s an enclosed space. If you’re outside, there’s more places to run and hide. But hiding goes both ways.
You elect to go through the streets, sticking to the places that are the most open and well-lit. You get home without incident, though you swear you saw something in the alleys.
You collapse into bed and sleep for ten hours.
—————————
It’s 07:03 when you wake up. You have school today, so you look through your wardrobe for your uniform. You find it, but…why is it so skimpy? Sheer tights, short plaid skirt, tight shirt, platform mary janes and loose socks. You put it on, but the shirt is so tight it won’t button all the way, leaving a sizable amount of your cleavage and lace bra visible.
Speaking of which, aren’t you only supposed to start with plain underwear? Why is all of yours lace? And why does it clasp at the front? You spend twenty minutes looking for a jacket, different shirt, or other way to cover yourself, but find nothing. Bailey bangs on the doors around the orphanage to wake the orphans up. You sigh and put your clothes back into your wardrobe before leaving.
You bump into Robin on your way out. Literally. He nearly runs you over.
“Hey!” He says running towards you. He doesn’t slow down in time and plows right into you. You help him up. “Thanks,” he says, looking a bit bashful. “I didn’t see you yesterday. Remember, you can visit me in my room anytime you want. I have something to show you. I’m so excited!” He runs off, and you realize you’ve forgotten your backpack, so you head back in and find it. It takes you another ten minutes to realize you’d put it behind the door. By the time you’re ready, it’s already half an hour past seven. You decide to see if Robin is still in his room.
You knock, and hear some crashing. Before you can ask if something’s wrong, Robin opens the door and hugs you. “Look,” he says, pulling you inside. Your eyes immediately land on the shiny new game console in the corner of the room. “I’ve been saving up,” he says. “What are you waiting for?” He pats the bed beside him and you hop on. You watch him play for a few minutes, and the two of you walk to school together.
Though it’s literally your first time meeting him, you feel safer around Robin. Though you know he can’t fight to protect you, having someone by your side does a lot to ease the mind. Plus, he’s one of the only decent people in the game. You’re glad, but at the same time, you’re uneasy. You wonder if he notices you’re not his childhood friend. That you look like her, sound like her, but you aren’t her. You wonder if he’d hate you, should he find out.
“Is something wrong, [First]?” You snap to attention.
“Huh? Oh, uh, no. I’m okay,” you say. “I was just kind of busy yesterday, came home exhausted but couldn’t sleep, you know how it is.” You wave your hand dismissively at him as you pass the school gates. “Where are you heading? I’d like to go with you, if that’s alright. Since I didn’t see you yesterday, and all.” Really, you just don’t want to be alone here. But there’s no need to say that.
Robin smiles, and the two of you hang out in the rear courtyard. It’s nice, but you can feel him glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking. It makes you uncomfortable. Has he caught on? You excuse yourself and head to the library. Maybe you should acquaint yourself with the other non-crazy person on campus. At least you won’t have to lie about your identity to Sydney.
You walk over to the counter near the back of the library. A tall boy with a strawberry blonde ponytail and glasses is stamping books behind it. You smile as you approach him. “Good morning…” He says, yawning. “First time at the rental counter? You can rent out one book at a ti-” Sydney yawns.. “Time. You can also buy school-approved clothes here. Headmaster Leighton’s marked the prices way up, though. Students with a good record get special discounts.” He seems excited, though you can’t place why.
“Books can be rented out for two weeks at a time. You can renew your rental at any time…” He looks down. You look down. Sydney has stamped his hand. You smile.”...Let’s call that a demonstration of what happens if you return a late or damaged book. My name’s Sydney, by the way! Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m [First],” you respond. You and Sydney spend some time chatting. You notice that he’s oddly red.
“Are you feeling okay?” You ask, raising a hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up! Let’s get you to the infirmary!”
“W-what? No, I’m okay…”
“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling him up by the forearm. You drag him to the infirmary, and he has to bend down to allow it. No one pays you much mind, though you’re sure you look a little silly, holding onto the forearm of someone much taller than you. You reach the nurse, who informs you that Sydney is perfectly healthy, though tells him to take a rest on one of the beds upon seeing the bags under his eyes.
“See?” He says, smiling. “I didn’t realize you were such a worrier.” You flush, embarrassed. Is pure Sydney supposed to tease people? His face softens. “Thanks…for worrying about me, though” he says, then checks the time. “You should probably get to class.” Right, you’d nearly forgotten you were at school. You thank Sydney for reminding you and leave as he waves you off.
You go to your science lesson. Despite your grade being at F, the lesson is actually pretty easy to follow, some of this you remember from your own highschool lessons. The bell rings and you leave the classroom, only to get shoved into a locker immediately. A boy with blonde hair covering one eye looms over you. You recognize him immediately.
“Don’t get in my way again,” Whitney says, pressing his knee against your crotch. “Or I’ll put you in your place.” He releases you, but you know that won’t be the end of it. You hurry to math class, hoping Whitney will skip today. You’re tense for the first twenty minutes of class, but slowly begin to relax upon realizing Whitney probably isn’t going to show up. Nearly half an hour into class, the teacher River steps out for a moment. And with the kind of timing you’d only see in movies, Whitney waltzes in, his jacket thrown over his shoulder. You try to look away, but it’s too late. Whitney makes eye contact with you and grins. He walks over to the mousy girl sitting next to you.
“Move,” he says. She does. You turn away from him, but he grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him.
This is unfair, you think to yourself. Whitney isn’t supposed to sit next to you unless you’re dating. Why now?
“Watcha lookin at, slut?”
This sucks. You want to go home. When is this dream supposed to end?
Whitney tugs at your hair even harder. “I asked you a question, slut.”
How did you even get here in the first place? Did you really die? Were you in a coma? Whitney yanks your hair back so hard your body goes with it, creating an awful screeching sound as your chair lurches back. River walks in just in time to see you fall on your back. Whitney is sent out. He turns to make a penetration sign with his hands at you as he leaves.
Math ends, and you head to English. There’s a crowd of students blocking your path. You peer over shoulders and heads to see the source of the commotion, and see a dark haired student on the ground, with two bullies standing over him. Your first instinct is Kylar, but you must be wrong. Kylar’s event shouldn’t happen until a week from now.
You could try to help, but that would probably get you assaulted. Even if you didn’t, your fellow students would think less of you, leading you to getting picked on later, and potentially assaulted more and–
Fuck it, you can’t ignore this. You’re already shoving past students and blocking the bullies’ view of the student. “Leave him alone,” you say. “I won’t stand for this.” One of the bullies, a thin girl, shoves you down.
“Sit, then!” She says, the audience laughs. You pick yourself up and ram into the thin girl and her friend. You knock her off-balance and she falls to the floor, screaming as soon as she lands. “You stupid bitch! You broke my tailbone!” The audience is laughing at her, now. Her friend is helping her up. “I’ll get you for this! Mark my fucking words!” You shiver. Hopefully no one notices. You turn to check on the boy they were harassing, only to nearly bump heads with him. You jump back, and the boy smiles apologetically. There’s something else in his expression, but before you can figure out what it was, you make eye contact with him, and the whole world goes dark.
Tousled black hair, short stature, sickly pale skin and the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s Kylar. It has to be. “T-thanks,” he says. “I-I’m Kylar.” Your face drops, but you aren’t sure if he saw it before running off. The tips of his ears are red, you notice. You step towards the crowd, which is already dispersing. The remaining onlookers make way for you, though you feel a hand grope your butt as you leave. You turn, but no one’s there.
You head into English class, already exhausted. Kylar watches you from the back. You ignore him. The plump boy sitting behind you sniffs your hair during the entirety of the lesson, so it’s hard to focus. You look down at your notes. It’s an unintelligible mess. Is this what it means to have a grade F in English, you wonder?
Finally, it’s lunch time. You head to the cafeteria, passing by the headmaster on your way there. You swear you saw him checking you out. You shudder and speed up. Upon reaching the canteen, you are presented with three options.
Robin is talking with some students at his table, they seem to be arguing.
Sydney is sitting alone, several piles of books surrounding him.
Kylar is also alone, stabbing at his food with more violence than seems neccesary.
Despite your self preservation instincts, you walk towards Robin to see what the commotion is. The lean boy is accusing Robin of ‘looking at him with disrespect’. Arguing with him would be pointless. So you do the next best thing and smile as you spit in his face.
As expected, he doesn’t take it well, and pounces on you immediately. He tears open your shirt, leaving you only marginally more exposed than you already were. You scream loudly, and Leighton rushes in. You suppress a smirk.
“What’s the meaning of this?!” He shouts, pushing past students to find you exposed on the ground, the lean boy holding you down. He scrambles off of you, and you fix your uniform. The lean boy tries to explain, but Leighton cuts him off and sends him out. Robin helps you up.
“Are you okay?! Why did you do that?”
“I saw Leighton on the way over here. I figured if we caused a scene, he’d be the one to get in trouble for it.”
“Don’t do something like that again! That was really dangerous!” You nod, though you don’t really mean it.
Kylar watches from across the canteen. +Jealousy
The rest of lunch passes without incident and you go to History with Robin. The two of you chat about his game before class starts. You learn some interesting things about the history of the town. Nothing happens during history, and you leave feeling refreshed. You navigate the halls to your swimming lesson and change. You keep your eyes down, but swear you feel the stares of your classmates. You think you hear a camera go off, but when you turn, no one’s looking at you.
A taut boy follows you around the pool, and doesn’t stop trailing until the lesson is over. He keeps his distance, but it still makes you feel uneasy. The bell rings, and you don’t see him again.
You meet up with Robin in the courtyard, but hesitate walking home when you see Whitney hanging out by the gate.
“Can we go out through the back?”
“The back? Why?” You nod your head towards Whitney and his friends, and Robin makes an ‘O’ with his mouth. “I don’t mind, but how will we get out?” You’re about to answer when a realization hits you. Right. You haven’t unlocked the tunnel outside yet, which means you can’t leave unless you climb the fence.
“...Nevermind,” you say. “Maybe they won’t notice us.” You and Robin try to blend in with the crowd, but a hand on your shoulder quickly yanks you into the open.
“Hold it, slut.” Shit. “You didn’t pay the toll.”
You grit your teeth. “What’s the toll?” Whatever, you have twenty quid to spare.
“Flash us your tits.” There’s a crowd circling around you. You notice people pulling out their phones.
“[First]...”
“It’s fine, Robin.” You give him a strained smile as you unbutton your blouse. “Happy?” You ask, turning back to Whitney.
“Not quite,” he says, grabbing the front of your bra and unclasping the hook. Your breasts flop out. “There. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” You turn and quickly fix your bra, wishing it clasped at the back instead of the front like a normal bra. You and Robin speed away, then find a secluded ally to fix your shirt.
Finally home, you decide to check out some of the apps you didn’t bother with yesterday.
Social
Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible
Primary relationships:
Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend. Love: 100% Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Lust: 40%
You smile. It’s little different than the starting relationship in the actual game, but you’re slowly getting used to the inconsistencies. You’re about to look at the next box when your eyes are drawn back up to the pink text. Wait a minute, doesn’t that mean bad? You check the color chart to make sure.
But, why? Why is that bad? Isn’t it good? Or, is it because his confidence is low? Maybe the key word here is “wants”. Still, wouldn’t that count more as poor than bad? Whatever, no need to nitpick. You’ll check back in on it later. You move on.
…You almost move on. Why is his love so high? And his lust, too?! It’s gotta be a glitch, right? Right?
Right. You restart your phone and boot it back up. Nothing’s changed. You put that aside for now.
Whitney The Bully Whitney wants to own you. Love: 50% Dominance: 50% Lust: 100%
Another different one. Also bad. Terrible, even. You aren’t even sure what to make of it. You just met him, and his lust is already maxed out. His love is also surprisingly high, though only half as much as Robin’s is. You make a mental note to sit in view of the teacher during math going forward.
Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you. Love: 100% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90%
Another case of inexplicably high stats right off the bat, though you aren’t surprised with Kylar. You move on.
Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted. Love: 77% Purity: 44% Lust: 66%
Okay, you’re pretty sure those are all just angel numbers. Or, supposed to be angel numbers. It’s kind of hard to do that with only two numbers. Though 666 is actually more of a demonic number, it still fits the theme. Aside from the strange percentages, you’re also concerned by the question mark next to ‘faithful’, not to mention the fact that his purity is already so low he’s conflicted. You haven’t even flirted with him yet!
You glance at the other named NPC’s. They’re all unremarkable, full of “has no strong opinion of you” aside from two.
Bailey The Caretaker Bailey doesn’t want you to leave. Love: 25% Lust: 99%
Leighton The Headmaster You’re Leighton’s favorite. Love: 10% Lust: 85%
Your stomach lurches. Gross. You are absolutely repressing that shit.
You check your reputation next.
-The police aren’t concerned with you, and have no evidence linking you to any crime. -The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. -You are considered a normal student by teachers. -Your fellow students desire you.
You grimace at the last one. You make a mental note to buy a more concealing uniform.
Finally, you have your fame. This one should be normal, right? You’ve only just gotten here.
Sex: Unknown Prostitution: Unknown Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown Exhibitionism: Unknown Pregnancy: Unknown Combat: Obscure Kindness: Obscure Business: Unknown Socialite: Unknown Overall: Famous
What?! Famous?! How does that— Ugh, forget it. You keep reading.
The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.
…?
What…what does that mean?
—————————
Next>
#yandere#degrees of lewdity#yandere x reader#dol#yandere dol#whitney the bully#dol whitney#robin the orphan#dol robin#sydney the faithful#sydney the fallen#dol sydney#kylar the loner#dol kylar#dol pc#bailey the caretaker#leighton the headmaster#male yandere#yandere x you#male yandere x reader#male yandere x you#male yandere x y/n
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Okay, so this is more on the soft angst side, but would you be willing to write a Miguel x F!Reader (or gender neutral if you’d prefer that) where Miguel visits Reader’s universe to check in on them since they haven’t visited the Spider Society headquarters for some time now, and he shows up at her apartment right as she’s in the middle of fixing up her wounds after a massive fight. And so he helps patch up her wounds, and after some intense eye contact between the two of them, they kiss (it should be noted that they’ve been pining over each other awhile now, but neither of them have said anything to the other).
And if it isn’t too much, I have these dialogue prompts you can add as well if you need anymore inspiration (you totally don’t have to use them, I just thought they’d fit perfectly with this scenario).
“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”
“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know. I can clean up my own messes.”
“Can I stay? I'll take the couch.”
If this feels like too much, don’t hesitate to decline this ask! I’m just really excited 😅
I Need You to Stay
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel hasn’t heard from you in weeks, he wonders what’s keeping you so busy.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Stay” by Ari Abdul. Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you enjoy it and are taking care of yourself. Have a wonderful day/night!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 887
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, mention of violence, mentions of death, light angst, fluffy, blood, open wounds, light swearing…
Four weeks. It has been four weeks since Miguel last saw you. Normally, he wouldn’t be so worried, but it’s been four days. Usually, if you couldn’t make it, you’d talk to him through a screen but that hasn’t happened in the four weeks. Not a call, not a text, not even a simple message. Heck, even Lyla hasn’t heard anything from you.
Miguel sighs, “I can believe I’m saying this right now…” He looks at Peter B. “I’m putting you in charge until I get back.”
“Where are you going?” Peter B. asks.
“I haven’t heard anything from (Y/n) and Lyla can’t reach her. I’ll be back soon.”
Gwen pops up from behind Peter B.,“Can I join you?” She asks, pulling her hood up as she walks closer to Miguel, “I want to see the person who has Miguel O’Hara crushing on.”
“Excuse me?” Miguel cocks an eyebrow.
“You heard me!”
“No.” Walking away from Gwen.
“Why not?” And Gwen quickly follows.
“Because she could be in danger.” Miguel begins adjusting his gizmo to the correct universe.
“You saw me in action, I could help.” Gwen retorts.
“And I said…” A portal opens up, “No.” Then he disappeared and Gwen scoffed.
“I told you he wouldn’t listen.” Peter B. laughs with Mayday in his arms and Miles right beside him, laughing along.
Miguel lands on the rooftop of your apartment with a grunt. He takes a moment to look around and see if anything has changed, and something did. It was midnight in your universe and the lights to your apartment were still on.
He jumps down and easily clings onto the wall next to your window. With his other hand, he slowly slides your window open and slips in, closing it behind him.
“I know you’re here Miguel!” You call out from the other room, “Heard you since you landed on the roof.”
He chuckles as he walks towards the sound of your voice, “I shouldn’t be so surprised, your abilities have always impressed-” His eyes widen as he looks at you.
You sat at the table, bloody bandages on the table, cotton balls and fresh bandages. But the blood still dripping from the open wounds on your arm made his stomach churn, not in a good way.
He swallows thickly as he comes closer, taking your injured arm in his hand, “Who did this to you?” He growls.
“I took care of it.” You tell him, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying, “Nothing left but cuts and bruises… That will heal.” You try to sooth his worry.
“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”
“You’re holding the only thing that’s hurting right now.”
Miguel uses his webbing to pull up another chair to sit. He grabs the disinfectant and pours some of his on a cotton ball, you hiss at the contact as he cleans up the blood.
“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me, you know. I can clean up my own messes.” You speak through gritted teeth as it still burns.
“...How strong were they?” He speaks through the awkwardness.
“It wasn’t because they were strong.” You admit, “I got carried away, distracted.”
“By what?”
“The bastard was wearing colors similar to yours. I thought it was you for a split second, and in the second, I was open for an attack and they took it… I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Grabbing the bandages and wrapping up your arm.
“Don’t you remember the first time you brought me on a mission with you. I got distracted.”
“Of course I remember, what kind of idiot throws themself in front of someone.” He looks over the bandages, making sure they’re on correctly and not too tight.
“I thought you were going to die that day, I thought if I could at least save Spider-Man, then for once I did something good in my life.” Your head hangs in shame.
“We cannot save everyone, no matter how hard we try.” Miguel huffs, “At least…” He cups your face, slowly lifting your head to look at him, “I got to save you.”
“Migu-”
“Can I stay?” He asks, “I’ll take the couch.”
“I’m fine, I don’t need someone looking after me.” You pick up the bloody cotton balls and bandages.
“You’re shaking.”
“My arm still hurts and the adrenaline is still pumping.” You lie.
“Please don’t lie to me, (Y/n). You know how much I hate liars.” He comes closer, “Tell me what’s got you so distracted.”
“Everything about you. From your stupid, lovely hair to you entirely.Which is why I stayed away, I didn’t want to be so distracted that I’d cause the team to fall apart.” He cups your face once more and closes the space between you two. His lips falling onto yours.
It made Miguel’s heart beat faster and faster, and for some reason, the pit in his stomach grew even more. But it disappeared when he felt your arms come around his neck, standing on your toes.
He pulls away, “Distracted now?”
“Very.” You mumble.
“Are you letting me stay the night or will we have to go to my place?”
“Are you sure you want to leave Peter in charge for any longer?”
Oh, shit. He forgot about him.
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara#spiderman#spider man 2099#spider man x y/n#spiderman x you#spider man x reader#spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman x y/n#spider man#spider verse
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'interview with a butch' - a fake interview reflecting on butch-femme dynamics! inspired by the amazing piece by @llovely, which you can read here :)
(ID below read more)
[an original, interview-style poem called 'interview with a butch':
when did you know you were butch? I knew by the time I was sixteen, but that’s only when I found the word. I’ve been butch since the day I was born, at least since I was just a few months old and threw an earth-shattering tantrum whenever my mum tried to put me in a dress. (both laugh) your poor mum!
I remember being a little butch knight, chivalrous even before I was double digits. my best friend only lived up the road from school, but her parents were running late and she was scared to do it herself. so I walked her up the hill, her arm linked in mine, pride balancing on my chest. and when I got her to her door, I said that we should kiss like adults do when they say goodbye, and we took it in turns to kiss each other on each cheek. when I walked home I felt something the size of a boulder in my stomach, but I didn’t know what it meant yet, just that there was something about myself that set me apart.
how did you feel with your first femme? oh, man, even for a writer that’s hard to find the words for. (laugh) let’s put it this way: before I had my first femme, I always felt like something was missing in my relationships – not just in the relationship itself, but in me. I felt broken and wrong, unsatisfied and selfish. I thought that maybe I just had too high expectations or something. hell, even with sex I felt like something was missing, like I couldn’t find my own desire.
But then, then I had my first femme. How graphic can I be here? (laugh) as graphic as you want! okay, good!
watching my stomach hang over my harness, long nails in my hips, I felt like I had a second sexual awakening. I felt the most present in my body I’d ever been, and like I could be in them forever. I didn’t feel dissatisfied, or wrong. when their hand held mine and played with my fingers I felt lightning shoot through me. it was like realising I was a lesbian all over again. but even outside of romance, femmes are my friends, my family, my community. talking to femmes, being around femmes, I’ve never felt so seen and loved. I can handle every sharp look, every slur thrown my way, just because my armour was polished by femmes.
do you find your roles restrictive? they’re liberating. I think sometimes people see me and think that I had to fit into this constrictive box, that I disallowed myself to enjoy anything feminine. the reality is that for butches, we find the word we’ve been searching for our whole lives. I can’t even remember finding the word, isn’t that crazy? it felt second nature. it somehow perfectly described everything I’d ever felt, exposed me to a community of people who were just like me outside of my Tory town! (pause)
I think there’s a tendency even in leftist, LGBT spaces to think that masculinity is oppressive, and femininity is liberating and oppressed. but it’s really not like that. we’re punished for deviating from our assigned gender, whether you’re a masculine woman, or a feminine man, or something in between the two. I’ve had gay men try to convince me to let them do my makeup, I’ve had gay women tell me that they’re “so glad” I don’t have ‘toxic masculinity’ like “other butches”. femininity was a cage for me, something I had to imitate to survive the perils of high school, but it was never me. masculinity liberated me, and it’s not inherently toxic. I love to carry the bags, hold open the doors, cry in pride, protect those I love. and there’s nothing like coming home at the end of the day to a sweet femme, ready to rub my tired muscles. man, I’m not good at concise answers, am I? (both laugh) no, but I love it!
what do you think of people who see your relationship as heteronormative? they’re twats! (both laugh) now, that’s a concise answer! no, no that’s not fair. here’s what I’d say to them:
I see it as…a complex gender performance. no, that makes it sound like it’s play pretend. they’re complex gender…expressions, dynamics, play, desire, euphoria. a butch and a femme together is no more heterosexual than a bear and a twink, a top and a bottom. it’s a dance that we know in our bones, like we knew each other in a previous lifetime and we’re just falling back into our favoured rhythm. even every fumble and awkward gesture is a part of it. we fall into sync and into each other, we tenderise each other’s gender, affirm it, and love every minute of it. we’re not two sides of the same coin, you talk to any butch-femme couple and chances are our priori (edit: interviewee meant propositions) are the same but our conclusions are not; we’re the same side of the same coin, just one is the top of the tail and the other is the bottom of it. is that a euphemism? (laugh) take it as you will!
I’m no man, my femme is no woman, and I’m no less butch when I’m wearing a kiss-the-cook apron and cleaning their kitchen, and they’re no less femme when they’re putting together a shelf or driving me to work. To look at us and see a heteronormative imitation of cisgender predetermination is proof of their own lack of nuance – do you think all dogs are boys and all cats are girls, too? (both laugh)
I think in a lot of ways, butch-femme dynamics are inherently transsexual. or, in the very least, good friends of transgenderism. If you can’t see us for what we are then chances are you’ve got your own internalised gender biases to unlearn.
I’ve always been butch to my bones, but when I’m with my baby I’m on cloud nine. I feel desired, my gender revered and loved.
so, what you’re saying is, you feel seen? I do. we see each other and nurture each other. I’ve never really liked being called ‘beautiful’, but when it falls from the lips of a femme, I know that they’re not seeing me as feminine. I feel most comfortable to explore the depths of both my femininity and masculinity with them; I don’t feel restricted to a role.
maybe that’s what people are missing about it: our homes are temples of gender exploration and devotion.
end ID].
#original poetry#my writing#writeblr#image described#poetry#poetblr#butch#butch4femme#writing#lesbian#butch poetry#butch femme poetry#lesbian poetry#most popular#most proud of
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Hmm, not to detract from the absolutely wild display of racism and transphobia and general out of control bigotry directed at Imane Khelif from the radical feminism peanut gallery or nothing. But and however.
The rush in progressive spaces to attribute characteristics to her, like elevated testosterone and/or being intersex, speaks to a need for better nuance and delicacy on our end. It's complicated because we want to support intersex people against the appalling amount of institutional and general violence and disenfranchisement they experience. And knowing the way hormone levels vary from person is important in understanding how sex and gender aren't nearly as binary as most people assume. The general intentions were good, and shouldn't be discouraged. More like, just that we ought to take a minute to figure out if we know what we're talking about.
Because on the other side of the radfem peanut gallery is rushing in to assume personal information we don't know, but which we accept as contributing to her abilities and appearance. That is to say, there are unexamined racial and intersexist biases underlying the unspoken consensus that her body was somehow uniquely different that it needed to be explained by something other than "this is how people who train extensively for the sport of boxing tend to look."
That doesn't preclude her being intersex or whatnot, only that the foundation of the radfem argument rests on "this woman's appearance is deviant," in ways connecting back to racism and attitudes towards intersex bodies. And when we inadvertently buy into the foundational premise of their bigotry, we also inadvertently perpetuate the inherent bigotry in the assumption, by responding with "that deviant body of a woman of color is intersex."
Anyway, the point I'm trying to get around to here is Imane Khelif looks like a boxer. She's tall and has the kind of muscles a boxer has, regardless of hormones or being intersex or race or anything else. Being intersex comes in many shapes of bodies, the same as perisex bodies. But assuming a body must be intersex because we feel like it confirms deep rooted prejudice about what intersex bodies are is also an expression of that bias.
These things are rife with complications built on centuries of prejudice and systemic oppression, and there will never be a way to talk about it that's simple, perfectly true forever, and easy. It means sometimes we have to take a frustrating amount of time to try and unpack what's happening, and maybe even not say anything at all but probably also try to resist too many epic slams on terfs that are like inadvertently slamming our other disenfranchised groups, basically. I think. I'm not sure I did this very well either. But those undercurrents of bias affect us so like... be mindful and try to be kind.
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Updated my au's recap to add Tarkin and Krennic :)
And of course I updated The Science
[COMMISSIONS]
(also fixed Sabé's sexuality ! Thank you to the Sabé connoisseurs for letting me know she has a canonical boyfriend at one point ! xoxo)
Yapping below vvv
Welcome to me and my struggle with imperial military uniforms fjdkdkk they just so boring and often khaki-
For Tarkin I took inspiration from a Star Trek concept that I'm so mad isn't a thing in Star Wars... The dress uniform ! The classy, just for show, uncomfortable version of classic uniforms ! (Couldn't believe that wasn't already a thing in sw, but when I searched for it I stumbled upon a sub reddit called "the empire did nothing wrong" and sometimes self care is to not clic on the clearly far right corner of your fandom to look upon a shitty fan made alterations of imperial uniforms 🌸)
Also, I had to make a choice here... Do I make the empire more strict when it comes to gender norms and expectations i.e do I put Tarkin in a skirt gkkgkffn like, I already kinda did that with both Tarkin and Krennic keeping their hair long. But in canon imperial uniforms are unisex and the same for everyone, which is great to like know the imperial military (in universe at least) doesn't do sexism a lot.... But once again, the canon uniforms are a bit boring to draw, they don't have the more classy ones you would wear for special occasions and frankly if you want a side to show more gender inequality would you pick the mismatched rebels fighting for their rights and to overthrow the government, or the established force in power that is also incidentally an empire that took inspirations from a real far right party hmmmmm
Let's look at what I made different about the empire in my au, a) Palpatine is a woman, they have an empress but b) said empress force masced her apprentice and made *him* the figure head of her empire. When you think of the empire you don't picture an old woman in a bathrobe, you picture Vader, a tall muscular cyborg with no face a glowy sword and evil telekinesis.... That is gendered in the masculine (still a dyke tho, but random civilians wouldn't know that- they don't even know if he's human). Having a woman lead a fascist empire doesn't make it better- (in my country, France, the far right party has been lead by a woman for the last 20 years and that doesn't make it fucking better)
All this to say I put her in pants fjkdkd tested with a skirt but it felt too uncanny.
And I also made her stand in the worst position to draw (for me at least) : perfectly facing the camera with a stick up her ass and at parade rest so with her hands behind her back fjkddk I struggled so hard to make it look somewhat good, and I'm still not really satisfied- also Peter Cushing's face with a hat that covers his forehead looks very wrong to me fjfkk
But enough about Tarkin ! For Krennic I also modified the uniform :D (for a second time jfofk link to the first post with another version of her uniform), but hers isn't the fancy version, it's very much her work clothes ! Still trying to distinguish her from the classic military, since she is more of an engineer/architect, so she get heels, slutty white gloves and a dramatic cape coat. Also I loved putting her in a very strict outfit but making it a bit messy in small ways kgfkgj one side of it isn't zipped all the way down, and her hair is coming down from her hasty made bun :)))
PS : one must always picture the death star as the third member of this relationship <3
#this *should* be all of them#let's hope I don't have to edit this again in like 6 months fjfkdk#star wars sapphic au#wilhuff tarkin#grand moff tarkin#peter cushing#orson krennic#director krennic#tarkrennic#star wars original trilogy#star wars rogue one#star wars fanart#star wars#fanart#star wars imperials#toxic yuri#lesbian#art#my art#digital art#wlw
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♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid
♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡cw; parenthood (?), mentions of violence
♡notes; i work with toddlers all day yet still somehow get baby fever- so here’s this i guess lol.
i can’t see Brahms as a dad so skipped out on him this time, Vincent is iffy too but we might come back to him
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Micheal Myers
> micheal never wanted to be a father before he met you
> he knows for a fact he has something terribly wrong with him
> and while it never bothered him…it was far too dangerous to pass on
> but the way you light up when little kids on the street wave to you
> how you talked about building a family when you got drunk and sappy
> and how soft and gentle you were holding your friend’s baby…
> he knew you’d be the perfect parent, good enough to balance any bullshit he was bring to the table
> so it’s maybe not a complete accident when he stalks into the house with a banged up stroller out front
> the baby is crying, his parents passed out from some shit they snorted in the living room
> it makes his job easier when he slits their throats, and he’s sure as hell not sympathetic
> not that he ever is
> he follows the cries upstairs- a tiny little boy is wailing in his crib
> but he stops and stares at Micheal, blue eyes wide as he looms in the door
> at first Micheal thinks the racket it going to start again and braces for the scream
> but the boy reaches for him eagerly instead, making grabby hands and squealing
> it takes a bit of snooping but Micheal finds some paperwork after he’s secured the child in a carrier
> Miles. The boy’s name is Miles, and he’s ten months old- just tiny for his age
> you think he’s fucking with you when he sets a baby carrier on your table that night
> “…that’s Miles.” He mutters and walks away
> you’re pissed but you can’t say you have anything but an urge to protect this tiny boy
> he has red hair, and light freckles and the sweetest disposition
> he’s perfect, surely Micheal wouldn’t just steal a child…not without good reason
> and you notice Micheal still lingering, watching you both
> you try not to smile
> “…well. Gonna help me find somewhere he can sleep or not?”
Thomas Hewitt
> when Charlie brings in the little girl, Luda Mae is beyond excited
> she had no idea the couple she’d sent down their road had a baby
> her dark curls and chubby legs and ruddy pink cheeks remind her so much of Thomas at that age too
> not too far off from one if she’s got it right
> she’s thinking selfishly, she’s always wanted a daughter
> but Thomas’ eyes go so wide when you both walk in
> he’s in awe of the tiny lil thing sleeping against his mama’s shoulder
> he won’t hold her, terrified of hurting her
> but you’re eager to take her for a bit and he gets real close, chin hooked on your shoulder so he can inspect her closely
> she’s all giggles as she touches his mask
> and you’re nearly in tears when she snuggles up against you
> “…yknow…i’ve been thinkin. i’m much closer to grandmama age than mama age now”
> you say yes before Luda can finish her ask - there was nothing you wanted more than a child with Thomas
> he’s hesitant, but he already adores her
> you have no way of knowing her name, so what you should call her is a bit of a hot topic for a few days
> Charlie wants to name her Charlotte because he’s a self centered bastard , and Luda Mae has about a thousand suggestions that come from baby books decades older than you
> but you let Thomas decide
> Audrey Mae Hewitt is what he chooses
> Audrey from a book he read
> Mae from his mama
> and it suits her perfectly
Bubba Sawyer
> “hey cook! look what i got!”
> Drayton about beats Choptop in the plate when he sees him carrying a toddler under his arm like a log
> but he’s kind of impressed such a scrawny dirtbag can carry a chunky kid like that
> the little boy is a healthy weight for two or so, with lil chipmunk cheeks that dimple when he grins
> and the cutest damn mullet you’ll ever see
> Drayton is getting too damn old for this, and there’s only one person he trusts even a minuscule amount in the house
> so he just. hands him to you when you walk into the front room
> “congratulations, it’s a boy”
> you’re confused but excited
> and a bit concerned with how he and Bubba will feel once the man gets home
> a kid is a big commitment- and a man that wears people’s faces can be scary
> but Bubba immediately squeals and beelines for the little one when he staggers in
> they both tilt their heads curiously before the boy tries to climb up his leg
> when he picks him up, the boy gives a huge belly laugh, kicking his legs
> you choose his name- politely declining your boyfriend’s brothers’ insistence on Lil Choppy or Drayton II
> Jedediah Junior sounds perfect to you - little JJ
#slashers#micheal myers#thomas hewitt#micheal myers x reader#slashers x reader#thomas hewitt x reader#bubba sawyer#halloween#slashers x you#tcm#slashers x y/n#slashers headcanons#tcm 2006#tcm 2#bubba sawyer x reader
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Position anon again, would you please write a NSFW alphabet for Alucard? Pretty please? 🥺
Alucard N S F W Alphabet*
I'm personally offended that I haven't done this for Lulu before. Anyway, rather than just spelling out his name, I'll give you the entire alphabet. Heh. This is LONG! Your thoughts and keyboard smashes are welcome. 🤭
P.S. I go explicit and specific; read at your own risk. I also tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, so this is [Alucard x You]. However, I did have a little self-indulgent fun with W: wild card, the only section with an obvious she/her indication. Just so you know!
A: Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Aftercare is not optional to this dhampir. It's a must. It doesn't matter if you had a quick romp or a long night, he'd still take the time to treat you right, especially if he'd been rather rough with you.
Forehead kisses, soft caresses, helping clean you up—you name it and he's got it covered. It's all about making sure you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for.
Alucard is not one to just up and leave or make you feel used. In fact, it's noticeable how much more he dotes on you after actually using you up good and fucking you raw into next week. 😏
B: Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s)
Your neck. Let's not even pretend that Alucard doesn't gravitate towards it. As you ride him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and nips and pecks at your throat. There's a part of him that wants to sink his fangs into you then and there and another that wants nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings against your skin as you throw your head back in bliss.
Alucard likes his hands—the way they're so large against yours; how perfectly your hands feel in his own. He likes his hands gripping your thighs or hips, his hand coming down to slap your ass, his hands caressing every inch of you. The way his hand closes around your wrist, encircling it completely as if it was made to do nothing but. The way he pushes you down with his hand on the small of your back as he prepares to take you from behind. Most of all, all of the things his hands can do to make you cum.
C: Cum (anything to do with cum)
Alucard's desire to spill his seed inside you is next to nothing sometimes. If you'd let him, he'd bury himself balls-deep and cum inside you each and every time.
He loves to make you cum, loves the way you sound—the hitching of your breath, your begging, the way you can barely keep yourself from shaking as he coaxes yet another orgasm out of you. He loves to praise you for it. "God, you're fucking beautiful," is something you hear often. It just never gets old.
D: Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
Alucard loves when you allow him to bend you over whichever way he pleases. Loves how tiny and pliable you look underneath him, adjusting and propping your arms and legs as he sees fit. Just the sight of you like that, it's enough to push him over the edge.
So, you know he draws you—you are his muse after all. You've seen his sketches. But not the ones of your beautiful, naked body. Not even the tasteful pieces he draws as you sleep. Not the ones where, try as he might, he just can't replicate how utterly divine you look when he fucks you. He's a talented artist, but nothing tops the real thing.
E: Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Is he very experienced? No. Does he know what he's doing? Hell yes. His mother was a doctor and his father is a man of science. He lives in a castle full of resources. He has deep knowledge of biology—he's got the theory down pat. Sure, he fumbled a little the first few times, but he quickly learnt how you like to be pleased.
Besides, being a dhampir, Alucard is in tune with your body's responses to his ministrations. When you're intimate, he can practically feel your heart racing, dear. He knows when you're close, can tell when he's hitting it good, need I say more?
F: Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Mastery. He sits on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor to support you sitting on top of him with your legs bent on either side of him, your feet flat on the bed. This position allows you to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss. It lets you start off slow, very intimate—with you grinding against and riding him. Once you're a little tired (or he starts growing impatient), he simply grips your hips and pounds up into you until you're a screaming wreck. His grip on your hips and his feet securely planted on the floor allows him to rut into you fast. And the view? Fucking fantastic. He loves watching you come undone like this, seeing you throw your head back and expose your throat to him. Yes.
For a quick romp, you can't go wrong with doggy style. When you're in his study and you both get a little too distracted? He’ll bend you over his desk and have his way with you.
G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Oh, he's very serious about giving both of you a good time, alright. He might do something that makes you giggle, sure, but for the most part it's probably accidental and not his intention. Sex with Alucard can be intimate and sweet or downright animals humping in the undergrowth (👀), no in between. He's not here for the shits and giggles, darling.
H: Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
It does match. Maybe not all the time completely bare, but he keeps himself neat and tidy. Do you see his luxurious hair? He takes care of himself down there too.
I: Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Alucard loves to see you and hear you. He's considerate and goes out of his way to find what works for you. So much so he probably has ruined you for anyone else. You'll never find a more receptive lover; it’s time to accept that.
When you make sweet love, he whispers sweet nothings against your skin. He peppers kisses all over you and makes you feel like the most gorgeous being on the planet. He's not afraid to voice his thoughts out loud too, praising you and urging you on.
J: Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
You remember those naughty sketches of you? Yep. He has used them a couple times while you were away. You're in his thoughts whenever he touches himself.
K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Edging. He not-so-secretly loves it when you beg. How are you to know how much more you can take? He'll just have to show you.
When you moan his name as you grip the sheets and quake beneath him? Yeah. He loves it, especially when you can barely even make out the words for “Adrian, please, please, please.”
When you take control and ride him like your life depends on it, it does something to his brain. You on top, taking control and looking absolutely beautiful as you do so... he could cum just from the thought of it.
There is a part of him that likes the thought of cumming deep inside you and breeding you. Maybe it's that loneliness that sometimes nags at him, maybe he yearns for a family, but he can't lie this feels utterly divine.
L: Location (favourite places to do the do)
The bed is cliche, but it works and is comfortable. Your kitchen counter, desk, against the wall or a tree, table, or out at some secluded clearing by the lake... Alucard is truly not that picky, as long as you're not out in the public for other eyes to see and you’re both comfortable.
M: Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Your reactions and enthusiasm. Knowing you're into it just as much as he is.
When you sashay towards him, crooking your finger at him to beckon him closer? He's right there with you in a heartbeat.
When you wear his shirt and it swallows your smaller frame? It turns him on more than he lets on.
When you moan his name and gasp and writhe in pleasure. When you beg for him to take you harder, faster, and deeper. It just about short-circuits his brain.
N: No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Any form of bondage or restrictions to his movement. It brings up unnecessary trauma and makes him feel that he's not in control or safe. He is mostly a switch, sure, letting you take control and dominate too, but tying him up is just a no-go for him.
He won't transform into a wolf. It's practically bestiality, which he's not down for.
Somnophilia or any other act where consent can be dubious. He's just big on consent and trust, for obvious reasons.
O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves having absolute control over your pleasure, knowing it's him coaxing the sighs and moans and screams out of you. He enjoys how easily he can make you cum and drive you mad.
That said, he also loves watching you pleasure him, taking as much of his hard length as you can, especially whenever you greedily swallow his load.
P: Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It really depends. Sex can be whatever it needs to be in the moment. While he loves nothing more than to take his time and make sweet love to you, he also loves ravaging you and leaving you utterly spent. It's satisfying either way.
The usual case is he begins slowly and sensually, but by the end of it (and sometimes without warning), he's rutting into you like his life depends on it.
Q: Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He isn't above having a quickie if that is all time permits, but he would really much rather have his way with you properly!
R: Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Given that he's a dhampir, he knows exactly how to go unseen or unnoticed. It's likely his risk assessment is much more honed. You might think you're being risky, but he is well aware of the chances of you getting caught in the act.
As for experimenting—other than his hard reservations (the ones listed in N), he is game to experiment and try different things you may be curious about as long as you both feel safe and comfortable about them.
S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He's a dhampir... need I say more? The chances of you exhausting him first is little. Sorry to burst your bubble. 😆 He's got stamina for days, honey.
T: Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Alucard is not above using toys to pleasure you. But what can a toy do that he can't do better? Hah. Chances are he will attempt to learn how it pleases you and try to replicate that with his own cock, mouth, and hands.
U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He can be such a little tease. You know the way he banters. That snark and sass can sometimes make their way inside the bedroom too.
"What was that, darling?" he'd ask, as if his amazing sense of hearing wasn't enough to register your begging as he edges you for the nth time. "Tsk. Patience, my love..." he would even dare chide you!
Alucard also loves to glide his fangs over your skin, just enough to leave a faint mark but not enough to draw blood.
V: Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s not shy to let you know he’s having a good time, but he’s also not overly loud. He gasps, moans, and curses, a tight-lipped “Fuck!” slipping out once in a while.
W: Wild card (a random headcanon)
He loves to praise you. His way of talking dirty is to let you know how good you feel around him. How ethereal you are, how perfect for him, how you taste so sweet.
He encourages you as he pushes you over the limit. “Yes, yes, darling, you can take it. Cum for me,” he would say. He’d place a kiss on your open mouth as you convulse around him as he rips yet another orgasm out of you. “My sweet darling,” he would groan, wiping the sweat off your brow. “How perfect you are. Good girl.” And just like that, he’s about to do it all over again. RIP. 😫
X: X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s active and it shows. He’s well built without being overly bulky. It suits him—muscular/toned yet elegant and lean.
He’s packing a just-about-above average penis, but nothing you cannot handle. The man’s over six foot, it just fits.
Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Alucard is the type to yearn and pine, so set the volume level up cause he cannot get enough of you. Enough said.
Z: Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Sometimes you drift off to sleep together, but you usually fall asleep first.
He’s a night owl. He’d take you in his arms and stroke your hair as you sleep, admiring the way you glow under the moonlight, and wonder how he got so lucky to have found you. 🤍🌙
#if you disagree just scroll and let us have fun lmao#I’m not about to have another discourse on this#alucard#castlevania#alucarddear headcanons#adrian tepes#alucard fahrenheit tepes#Alucard x reader
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The Dog And The Deer
Alastor x werewolf/dog GNreader
ever since i found out alastor was attacked by dogs i awaited for a fic with a dog reader but alas i never found one, honestly love the idea so i splurged one out but im not sure im the happiest with it. also thank you to anyone who read my lucifer x reader it’s pretty wild like that many ppl liked it made my butthole pucker tbh. i hope y’all enjoy this kiss kiss
warnings: no YN, no alluding to or mentioning of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour or gender, morally grey reader(maybe?), descriptions of blood and animal death (nothing gorey yuck), cannibalism on alastors part, swearing, slowburnish, i think that’s all?
words: 4K
Alastor’s eye twitched watching as the mutt demon trotted around the hotels foyer with Angel. There was no worse stench then that of a dog. One of the few traumatic memories Alastor still holds close is the smell of wet dog along with memories of their jaws and teeth. Although, no one would ever catch him showing how uncomfortable your presence made him, that’d take away the image he’s created and potrayed throughout his nearly hundred years of being dead.
Yet as much as he hated every bit of your demonic form, he couldn’t help the slight tinge of desire to get closer to you, strange as it may be. You’re charasmatic and expressive, you let your ears and tail display the emotions you felt freely without holding back like he did. You got along with everyone at the hotel perfectly and you seemed to have a head on your shoulders; helping Charlie out with problems she couldn’t solve, and quipping back with fast remarks to insults thrown at you. Hell, you even got on Husks good side, a literal cat, a dogs worst enemy and vice versa.
Luckily no patron paid mind to the fact he always took the furthest spot from you at the table, or how his eyes never met yours in conversation, or that he never directly talked to you, more at you before walking off. No, nobody cares about his distance between himself and you, and if they did they knew better than to bring it up to him. Therefore he worried not about confronting you- that was up until this point. Watching with an unamused look, eyes lidded as he followed your figure waving bye to Angel and turning to him. You practically skipped your way over to him with a smile and he fought make the urge to get up and zip away.
You on the other hand, despite knowing his carnage good and well, respected the demon for the formalities he carried, as well as the little mortality he did have. It didn’t go unnoticed by you how much he seemingly hated you, you weren’t dense, but Charlie explained that Alastor was a generally private and mysterious overlord so you chalked it up to being his ‘thing’ paid no mind.
You will admit though, you were hoping that after a month or so of attending the hotel, he’d open up to your presence a little more. He wouldn’t. But! He still fed you when he cooked, woke you when you slept in, and kept you out of harms way as he did the other attendees, as well as escort you out whenever others were busy.
After a gossip session with Angel last night, you two concluded it was time to get to the bottom of the situation. Angel immediately went to the assumption he either wanted to fuck, or kill you, which you hoped he didn’t want to kill you, thankfully you moved along the topic by distracting Angel with other topics. You knew Angel out of anyone would be able to sniff out the fact you had the hots for the radio deer.
But that conversation is what landed you beside the radio demon on the couch, who statically crackled as you did so. “Hello Alastor, you look relaxed today, how’s everything going.” The deers eye twitched, a slight fog of black lingered up and around the couch, his smile strained and you could hear the sound of staticy disembodied voices in and around you.
You weren’t stupid to the fact he didn’t like you for sure now, but you were stupid enough to pretend you didn’t know. So you stayed smiling nervously up at him, but he simply stared forward. And after a few short moments he seemed to perk up ever so slightly snapping up and out of it. “Well my dear, i am doing just fantastic! Today has been one of leisure, i very rarely get to take those!” He exclaimed broadcaster voice in full effect, the smog and stactic zipped away as he composed himself entirely. You relaxed just slightly feeling just a little more welcomed. “That’s good to hear Al, I’m glad you get some time to yourself. You’ve done a lot with your magic for this place. Must be draining.” Alastor hummed daring to take a peak down at you.
You seemed to have all guards down around him, your canines poked out of your mouth slightly, quietly your tail thumped happily beside you, which he admittedly found to be quite adorable and idiotic why aren’t you more alert?. “You’re too kind darling, too kind. But I must go, I have to prepare my dinner.” Standing Alastor dusted himself off and swung his arms behind him, but before he could get anywhere you stood with him, your tail rapidly wagging. “Could i help?” Alastor’s ear twitched at that, his escape plan wasn’t very effective.
“Well, my dear, it’d be a little difficult, i like my meat, fresh.” His voice dropped an octave static taking over his voice, this time though he properly looked down at you, meeting your gaze. It sickened him that the first thing that crossed his mind was how enchanting your eyes are. You were a breed of demon he’d rather not associate with, and any lovey dovey emotion weakened his demonic image, and scrambled his mind with confusing emotions he’d rather not confront.
“Don’t worry Al, Vaggie told me you eat deer, i don’t really see the big deal about that one. Maybe i can try some.. oh do you hunt? I can totally catch it for you, this dog body is built for that!” You said hurriedly standing alongside him hands clasped in front of you almost like you were begging. Never would you say so, but were desperate to spend some time with him, it was stressful walking on eggshells all the time just for him.
Alastor’s eyebrows rose, he was decently pleased with the idea of a hunting partner, shrugging his shoulders he agreed, humming indifferently at you. “Follow me sweetheart, there are no deer out here!” Grinning wildely you skipped behind him, finally getting the attention you so desperately wanted from him. You mostly hid the longing to have the same attention the others got, while he literally pulled the others toward him, he kept metaphorically pushing you away. He never pulled you into song and dance, touched you, talked to you, hell half the time he wouldn’t even look at you as if you were a ghost. You also tried to interrogate everyone on his behaviour without appearing to obsessed, luckily the only one who seemed to notice this frantic questioning was Husk.
Husk was a good guy though, and took it with ease promising to not mention the sudden interest in Alastor and his behaviour. He did warn you to ‘watch your ass’ diggin into business that wasn’t your own. Outside of Husk mentioning that Alastor’s never been a fan of animals, a one off thing you barely paid mind to, the investigation left you empty handed. Nobody at the hotel really understood Alastor’s behaviour. Or Alastor in general, but you held hope they would.
“Here we are my dear,” Alastor exclamiend theatrically swinging his door open and leading you inside to the woody section of his room with his microphone positioned in the middle of your back. The furthest he’s ever gone to touch you, in truth. Focusing your eyes ahead you didn’t look around much, not wanting to be rude and stare at everything, though it was hard. You wanted to see how he liked things in his personal space, when he was all alone.
“Is this like a personal farm or something, are you like a breeder or…” You questioned quirking a brow up at him. Alastor chuckled quietly you could hear an audience echoing his laugh around the two of you. “No no, this!” He exclaimed stretching his arms out toward the greenery. “Is a glimpse straight into the forest, where the freshest of meats frolic.” Alastor looked back at you wicked grin on his face. “Ready to show me what you’re capable of, pup?”
Swinging his microphone around he then stuck it out toward the wilderness. With what he said you felt the need to impress him, so with smile and a nod you took off. After fifteen minutes, you returned. Alastor stood impatiently picking at his claws bored expression gracing his face, although his smile still present. Considering you planned to show off, you came back full demonic form on display and with two deer; one deer, sagged dead between your teeth, the other in your grasp.
Once Alastor decided to look up from his nails, he was petrified, and fought against the urge to flee like the prey he was reborn as. Alastor wouldn’t ever admit his fear directly but it was palpable, you could even smell it on him thanks to the fact you had the heightened ability to smell the stress hormones. To Alastors defence you appeared more dog than sinner at this point, a twisted mutation of what could’ve been a dog or possibly werewolf, he wasn’t sure and honestly neither were you. What he was sure of was that it made him nauseous looking at you and angry that you had that effect on him by simple existing.
Coming back to yourself, and what you’d typically look like, you dropped the deer at his feet, but he only stared at you, particularly your blood covered teeth. “Alastor what’s wrong? Uh, whatever happens in the forest stays in the forest?” You quickly say, panicking at such a display, you didn’t know him that well and visually you couldn’t entirely pick up on what he was thinking but you could pick up the way his blood rushed quicker through his veines, and how he clenched his teeth tighter than ever. “Nothing.” He snapped out fast as ever, but what shocked you most is the radio static in his voice left completely, you actually heard him.
Stepping an inch closer, testing the waters, you slowly reach out to his arm. Your gaze was locked on his eyes to try and find anything that could have given you the slightest hint at whether or not to pull away, but you found none. So crossing your fingers, metaphorically, you closed the small gap between you and him, very gently placing your hand on his arm.
Quietly you spoke. “I’m not sure whats wrong Al, but i know something’s up, and I know how you like to protect your image so don’t worry, i swear on my after life i won’t tell a soul about this.” Much to his dismay, he gave into your words of comfort, his posture falling slightly. Alastor’s smile never fell, but other parts of him did, like his ears and finally his eyes. He looked down to you and you could finally tell something was seriously fucked with how easily he let himself give in. “I was attacked by dogs before i died, is all, my dear. Ahhh, sometimes those pesky human emotions still remain present.“
“Is that why you avoided me?” You questioned putting the pieces together. With more confidence you moved a step closer to him, and he made no moves to stop you. “Yes, I apologize for my rude display, I’m not fond of dogs.” You inwardly scoffed. Dog, you were like, more of a werewolf anyways which was way cooler. “Well Alastor, what better way to overcome discomfort than befriending a dog! Than you’ll never have to worry about any dog sinner getting the upper hand!” Somewhere in that sentence was comedy gold, apparently, considering Alastor erupted into insane laughter which just had you awkwardly standing there watching as he vibrated joyfully.
Once his cackling was finished, he wiped away a non existent tear and bent toward you. With a pinch of your cheek Alastor gently shook your head side to side. “How adorable you are, someone getting the upper hand? On me? Ahah! Now i see why you and Husker get along so well! Silly little house pets, assuming such silly things.” You gently pushed his hand away a little upset by the quick switch in demeanour, not that he’s not been like this before, he was known for this. “Well, whatever, i meant well. Anyyhoo, does that mean we’re cool now?”
Al cocked his head to the side, repeating ‘cool’ to himself as if he didn’t know the word before shaking his head, and confirming that you two were indeed ‘cool now’. “Perhaps we should hunt together more often my dear, after all i’ve never had someone bend over and swear secrecy in return for nothing. You must be dying for a little bit of private time with me.” Gaping at him you watched as he turned his back and started a walking away. Snapping his fingers, the deer disappeared from your feet and reappeared on a table, big enough for two.
“Yeah right, I’d never that’s, uh, barf y’know.” You muttered collecting yourself, still a little ashamed he had seen right through you. “Come, dig in! After all this was your catch my little pet, it’d be so unkind to leave you without. Dogs do enjoy that, correct? Rewards.” Now sat across from him, your mouth fell in a flat line, ears drawn down. “Yeah, sure, just as much as deers like to be eaten huh? Why don’t you hop up on the table deer, doggy wants their reward.” You shot back, possibly a bit flirtatiously as you’d truly prefer him being your treat, your reward.
A record scratch sounded out from him, effectively causing a silence to wash over the two of you. You coughed, and a meek smile graced your face as you eyed the meat in front of you, then back to his eyes. Alastor seemed to be in quiet contemplation as he looked at you, his smile once open, now closed but his eyes relaxed signalling that he wasn’t going to launch himself over the table and maim you for what you said.
You both sat watching each other seeing as he made no movement or noise. The silence made your worried mind wander, while other parts of your mind foolishly wondered if what you said sparked any particular interests in him.
After all, you believed it was pretty hard to miss the double entendre there especially when you purred it out to him like a horn dog succubus. Sitting up straighter in an attempt to conceal your anxieties, you met Alastors calm gaze that never strayed from your form. It was like he could see straight into your mind and your heart kicked up with the worry of ‘could he read fucking minds.’
“So! I’ve seen you and the spider have gotten along swimmingly. Tell me, why does such a shy thing like yourself prance around with such a fellow? One that draws unruly attention wherever he goes?” Alastor finally broke the silence materializing a fork and a knife to dig into his meat. You were relieved the tension finally broke and you could move past the comment, for now. However bringing up the topic of Angel seemed quite calculated on his part.
“Angels amazing, especially when you get to know him Al. Plus, he knows what it’s like to be pushed around by men, he never puts me in the position where i’m the target of some sleazes desire.” You rant turning the dead deer towards you, not bothering to ask for cutlery as you planned to dig in- claws and teeth. “Hm, i suppose that could be true my dear, but i can’t help but be skeptical seeing how utterly opposite the two of you are.” You waved a hand lazily, ripping into the deers leg and nawshing down.
“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” Alastors eyebrows quirked at your rude gesture, that being speaking with your mouth full, but he wasn’t too surprised as he reminded himself you were just a dog. “It’s as clear as a sunny day pup! You are so unsure of yourself! Oh my, I just love watching you shrink into yourself at the sight of any demon outside the hotel. One of my favourite past times is walking around the ring with you as you shake like a chihuahua that lost its mother!” You watched mouth full as he threw his head back and laughed, again, quite theatrically.
The laugh track sounded with him as he did so, his ears perked happily, hand draped over his heart. You couldn’t be mad at what he said when he just looked so, adorably goofy. Obviously you hated being in hell and near other sinners, they were gross the majority of them wanted to harm you in some way, so you weren’t bothered at all that he could tell you were afraid of them, but you were curious as to why he decided to steer the conversation this way.
“Well Alastor, we’re all afraid of something. Oh and by the way- even though you only come to watch me cower- i still enjoy whenever we go out together.” You admit switching between inspecting your meat and looking at Alastor as he ate his. Alastor covered up the shock that he felt by taking a few silent bites. Briefly he reflected on what there was to like, after all he barely spoke to you during the outtings, he always walked fast and slightly ahead of you so you were always racing to catch up, he couldn’t find a single reason you’d enjoy being with him.
“Do you?” He finally inquired his head falling to the side, looking up to him you nodded, swallowing before speaking this time. “Yeah, truthfully it’s entertaining to me too. Watching everyone around us move away from you, whisper n gossip about you, all while you pay no mind with your head up, unbothered. Oh! And your radio too, I am not sure if you notice, but when you hum your radio just hums out with you, it’s nice especially since i’m too afriad to put in a headset. Oh and of course, you make me feel safe.”
Leaning forward slightly, Alastor placed his silverware down and placed his elbows on the table. Behind him his tail subconsciously wagged, pleased to hear that you had felt safe with him. It was an unusual emotion that sparked through his chest and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. It made him feel like he was loosing control to another sinner, and that was a big no no.
Alas, Alastors curiousity outweighed his distaste for the emotion soaring through him and instead decided to full speed ahead into it. Perhaps because that felt like he in some way gained control back by choosing to breathe into it rather than run. “I’m pleased to hear that my dear,” Alastor started slowly, dragging out his words buying him time for what to say next. “Had I known before i could’ve arranged something. You do know i have quite the little posse of shadows on my side, correct?”
Alastors eyes were lidded watching you lean back in your seat ever so slightly, shadows beginning to wisp around the floor by your feet. “I didn’t think you’d do that for me Al.” Resting his head on his hand, he ‘tsked’ at you. “And why is that my dear.” The expression on your face read pretty clearly as ‘are you kidding me’ but Alastor wanted to hear you speak. “To me it was pretty obvious, up until this point I had asssumed you hated me!”
The frustrated exclamation really didn’t bother him, instead he kissed his teeth, rolled his eyes and shook his finger like a scolding mother. “Silly pup, you know what they say about assuming, it makes an ass out of you and me.” Rolling your eyes right back you cracked a smile at him. It seemed to you he was trying to banter along with you, which was progress, and made your stomach flip. “Oh shush Alastor, you absolutely loathed my presence up until you could find a use for me.”
Alastor hummed flatly, checking out his claws. “Not true.” Snapping his fingers the deer left untouched disappeared leaving the table barren. Alastor stood and undid his coat walking away leaving you hanging. Shocked by his sudden reaction, you stood the table vanishing behinfd you. “What do you mean Al?” He hung up his jacket, now left only in his vest you standing behind in patiently. Once hung up Alastor turned to you and smiled mischievously down at you. Before you could question him, he grabbed your face under your chin and grasping your cheeks.
“Oh my silly little dog, you think your form was the only thing pushing me away. No,” Gawking up at him as he invaded your space for the first time in your months of being here, he stood inches away from you forcing your head up to look into his eyes. “I admit, i’ve been dealing with more unpleasant emotions than fear. You’re quite divine, you know.”
You felt like you were melting and your heart raced in your chest and the radio demon looked down at you with a softness you’d never seen in his eyes before. His hand released your cheeks and instead he started gently caressing you, loving the way you shivered just at his touch. “You’re hard to put up with, my dear. Allow me to confess you’ve been the the most difficult sinner to rid from my mind. Silly as that may be. I have ridiculous thoughts about what you may think of me, how i look, my golly i even ponder whether you desire my presence when i push you away. I also wonder what other undeserving sinners have your attention, have their paws on you.”
As he spoke he inched closer to your face, his hand cupping your cheek while the other ghosted up your arm, barely making contact with your flesh. You felt weak at the knees as he hovered above you with suck a coy smile, his red eyes looking straight into your own. “Al..” You trailed off almost warningly, but all he did was hum lazily bringing his face even closer to yours.
You could smell his fragrance one you couldn’t fully pinpoint as one thing. Definitely a cologne of sorts, mixed with blood, deer guts, and the faintest scent of pine. “Tell me sweetheart,” Alastor started dragging his hand from your cheek to gently grabbing your neck, making you swallow. “Do you hold the same interest in me as i do you?”
He almost sounded as if he was mocking you when he asked, but you were too lost in a haze from this fucked up foreplay he had going on to notice. Instead you nodded just barely moving your head but you knew he’d see it. “Of course you do, good little pup. I noticed.” Alastor hissed out darkly before pulling you by your neck flush against his body.
You squeaked but it was hushed by Alastors lips connecting with your own. You hands flew up to his chest grabbing on for dear life. In fairness the kiss was pretty soft, but you were so shocked your body reacted a bit harshly. He kept his smile against your lips, you matching his pace unashamed at how quick you kissed him back. His right hand kept on your throat controlling how close you were to him while his other hand danced up to your head to push your lips closer to his.
Pulling away abruptly Alastor shot up straight suddenly holding you at a distance by both shoulders. Your body ragdolled to his command barely catching your footing as you were in a lovey dovey haze. “Perhaps that is enough for today! Don’t want to get carried away now! You deserve proper treatment from a gentlemen!” Broadcaster voice back in play, you winced as he tonned down his volume for quite awhile up until this point.
However your annoyance didn’t last seeing as Alastor actually wanted to go out with you, so instead you smiled up at him. “How kind of you Al, maybe we can have more deer?” Dusting yourself of invisible dirt, Alastors hands retreated behind his back. “Of course my deer sounds like a gas! But for tonight perhaps we should relax. I have to get to a meeting within the next few hours, but i thoroughly enjoyed our time today!”
Smiling at him as he lead you to his door this time his hand pressed gently against the small of your back. “I really enjoyed it too Al, especially the part when you kissed me that was my fave.” You teased watching as he looked away his ears tilting to the sides ever so slightly.
“Yes, well, i did as well. Now then! Carry on i must get appropriate, ta-ta!” He exclaimed pushing you out of his room and shutting the door behind you, and while you giddily ran off hyped to tell Angel about everything, Alastor collapsed against the door smile strained heart pounding in his chest, incredibly uncomfortable with how to deal with these emotions, but please at the same time with experiencing something he’d not felt before.
#alastor x reader#alastor#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor the radio demon#radio demon
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I am bored, so I'm posting my Zosan queer headcannons. Queer beam go 🏳️🌈✨✨
Zoro Gay/Asexual (He/him)
- Zoro likes what Zoro likes. There's never really been a time in his life where he's questioned his sexuality. He knows he likes men, and he knows he values a partner that's strong and capable. It's as simple as that to him.
- When he gets older and people start asking him about these things, does he finally learn there are labels for them. And again, he doesn't see it as any big thing to be worried about. He's focused on his dream, and relationships can come later.
- When he begins to like Sanji, he hesitates to do anything. He sees Sanji swoon over girls and simply makes the assumption that there would be nothing there. So he holds his tongue and moves on. Or at least tries to.
- There are times when he finds another person he likes, such as Luffy or even Ace. Ace leaves before anything could spark, and Luffy is very obviously not interested in anything romantic of the sort.
- He finds common ground with Nami, since she's in a similar boat to him. She will tell him how she misses Vivi and he will tell her about a stubborn cook. He finally finds a person to properly talk about sexuality with, something he didn't even realize was pretty nice to have.
- Eventually he settles on saying that he's gay and asexual. He doesn't exactly care about labels, nor does he know if these are the ones that perfectly fit him, but he decides that's the answer he'll give if someone asks.
- He knows he likes men, and he knows that he's not really interested in sexual activities. Not that he's revolted by them or won't participate in them at all, it's just not something he thinks about.
Sanji Bisexual/Gender Queer (He/She)
- Sanji is a mess of repression and internalized homophobia. He would never be homophobic to other queer people, but himself? There was no way he would ever be queer.
- He swoons for women and dotes on them, pushing any feelings for men so far down that he doesn't even recognize he even has them. When he meets Ace, that quickly changes.
- For the first time in his life, he properly questions his own attraction. He experiments. Only a touch though, because that voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Judge berates him for it.
- So he continues to hide any of those feelings away for a very long time. It's only when he's sent to the Kamabakka kingdom and meets Ivankov that he can really learn to express himself. It takes a lot of running, fighting, and yelling for him to realize that maybe he likes men and maybe that's okay.
- He leaves Kamabakka with the knowledge that he's bisexual. He learned plenty of things about the different labels and identities and everything under the sun--he's bisexual. Nothing else to it.
- Of course, when he sees that stupid swordsman again, he maybe realizes he's harboring some kind of attraction for the man. Fine, he can be bisexual, but liking Zoro? That boar of a man? Absolutely not.
- But after everything that happened on Whole Cake Island and Wano, he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to hide his feelings anymore. He needs to apologize first, though.
Zosan
- After Wano, Zoro and Sanji finally sit down and talk. It's tense and awkward, because neither really knows what to do when it comes to liking the other.
- Zoro tells Sanji that he was hurt when he left for Whole Cake, not because of any sort of jealousy but because Sanji wouldn't ask for help. He tells him that he admires his strength and stubbornness, and that arguments maybe became something he enjoyed.
- Sanji tells Zoro how much he struggles to believe that he's loved. He explains that he's trying to be better and ask for help, but it's hard. He tells him that he wants to do better and try to let himself be cared for. He also may or may not say he likes the way Zoro's muscles look and how his chest looks very heavy maybe he should hold it--
- They decide to try whatever it is the two of them are. Sanji still swoons for women of course, that's just how he is, but Zoro doesn't mind. He knows at the end of the day Sanji wouldn't actually pursue anyone else. Sanji dotes on Zoro a bit more, always enjoying being able to take care of someone, and who is he to deny the opportunity to wash the swordsman's back after he trains?
- They never really hide their relationship, but it still takes a while for the crew to realize. It takes Ussop stumbling upon them kissing in the galley for the rug to really get pulled. Fanky insists on giving them a proper room, and he cleans up the first mate's quarters just for the two of them (which also gives him the idea to maybe ask Robin about doing something similar with the Captain's quarters, it's not like Luffy used it, after all).
- They were partners, on the battlefield and off. They bickered and they fought, but they also went to each other after a fight to make sure the other was okay. They would do the dishes together and sleep in the same bed. Sanji had a spot in the crows nest just for him: an open window with an ashtray for him to sit and smoke with his recipe book. Zoro had a place in the galley: a corner of the couch with the supplies to clean his swords beside it.
- Over time Sanji was able to talk about his childhood more, and more than once Zoro offered to go and remove a few Vinsmoke heads.
- It takes a long time, well into Zoro and Sanji's middle years, for Sanji to actually accept that maybe his gender isn't as solid as he thought. It takes a while, but again, he manages to accept this part of himself too. Sometimes he likes to wear dresses and feminine things, and that's fine. Sometimes he likes to be called girlfriend or lady or miss, and that's okay too. Zoro loves him no matter what.
- Long after the Once Piece is found, Zoro becomes the world's greatest swordsman, and Sanji finds the All Blue, the two have a wedding. It's a simple affair, and Sanji wouldn't have wanted it any other way. They invite their friends and family; Zeff, the Straw Hats, Mihawk and Perona (though Zoro still grumbles about them not actually being his family), even Law comes--mostly at Luffy's insistence. Reiju stops by for a few moments to congratulate them, but she doesn't stay long. Luffy is the one to actually wed them, this being one of the rare times that he gets serious about something.
- Afterwards there's a feast, one Sanji prepared of course. Zeff and Sanji bicker about recipes, but Zeff has tears in his eyes as he walks his child down the aisle.
- The rings--or rather the earrings--are one of Zoro's golden earrings and a blue pearl from the All Blue. They love each other deeply, and step into the future together.
#black leg sanji#one piece#roronoa zoro#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#zoro#zoro x sanji#zosan#sanzo#trans sanji#headcanon#genderfluid sanji#one piece headcanons#zosan headcanons#rambles
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“Expensive”
sypnosis; being an OF wasn't that hard , one pic here and there , yet sometimes it intrigued who was these people—especially your top payer
cw; smut (!) , sw!reader , pervy Lara , swearing, , usage of degrading names , kinky shit , G!P Lara,not proofread, men do not interact!!
"what the fuck" you exhale as you take a look at your dms , one thing about being an OF model I guess — men will request the most outrageous shit ever
"fuck it" you say picking out one of the request— this one wasn't too bad oh! and it's made by your top payer
"wear my favorite lingerie?— not bad" you say , she payed like what thousands every month practically paying for your monthly dues
going to your closet and picking out one, which one pink? maybe red?— god it said your favorite why are you stressing it out
deciding on an simple pink one with ribbons , sighing out of relief — now all you have to do is shower and get the set up ready
--
after setting up the cameras and most importantly the lingerie, you get into position and take pictures
"wait should I text this to her? or is it a him?" you never really knew the gender since Lara went on your page under an anonymous name
after the"photoshoot" you ofcourse had to edit them think of a caption and so many things
afterwards you sent it to her , thanking her for her donations
"hello!— i noticed you were my top payer, here's a little thanks 😉" and sent , now we wait?
ding!
ding!
"oh my gosh— thank youu , honestly love your content!!" she immediately replied which surprised you
i mean the way she types , is she a girl??
"welcomee , if it doesn't bother you are you a female??" you ask , confused
"female , why?—I'm Lara by the way" she replied right away so she had a lot of time in her hands
oh and Lara? is that why her user was just L?
"nothing! — I was just wondering" you replied
--
a few days passed by , and Lara did not miss a single hour of donating
"hey—i was wondering how much I can uhm pay you to meet me in person?" Lara suddenly chats you
at first you were taken a back but after a little thought you decided to agree
"can you please show me pictures of yourself first?" you replied, yes you knew she was a girl but you can never be too sure
L sent three files
your phone rings , opening the photos you were stunned she looked beautiful, her eyes were like a siren calling out to you
"wow you're gorgeous" you replied
soon you were both planning out the day and time you would meet , you both settled for her apartment
--
the day comes and your standing outside her apartment, you were strangely sweating and your heart raced
"hey—how are you" Lara says as she opens the door , she looked mesmerizing her arms were toned, her face was sculpted by god himself
"uhmm" she trails off , god did you just snoozed off
"oh uhm sorry! " you replied, she lets you in and you both settled at the living room , her apartment looked expensive, I mean considering she spent thousands on you she can probably spend millions alone
"drink?" Lara asks , handing you a glass with some nice wine in it , she took a sip out of hers god she looked hot
"thanks.." taking a sip aswell , it tasted spectacular, like expensive, fine wine
a little bit of chatting and talking about your interest , it truly felt like a date but it's weird since you know she pays to see you
maybe it was crazy that you got drunk because of wine , but your tolerance was as low as 0
you were checking her out shamelessly at this point, her fingers , her face gosh , your eyes trailed down to her thighs , wait is that a bulge?—she noticed you especially where you were looking
"why princess? , want to try?" she ask her voice was husky and laced with seductiveness
you couldn't think straight , you aren't straight that's one thing
you hadn't noticed how close you both were till you felt her hands on your waist hoisting you to sit on her lap
your arms wrapped around her nape , core perfectly aligned with her bulge — you were gonna lose it
"my pretty girl — tell me what you want" she purrs
"please" you pathetically whine against her , her lips found yours , her hands deftly removing your clothing till you were left with your undergarments
"shit" she whispers , she loved it truly
"don't stare" did you just get embarrassed?, you did this for a living selling pictures of your body
to make you comfy she removes hers aswell leaving herself in some boxers and sports bra
"gosh you look better in real life" she says , was that a compliment?
"i just didn't expect you to be whore outside OF aswell" now you're soaked , how can someone make you feel this way when they degrade you
slowly she removes your lacy undergarments , her fingers finding your swollen clit begging for attention
"so wet , how nasty of you" she snickers
you whine , god your head felt fuzzy from her words and her fingers , have mercy on me Lara
"your cunt is so tight" she tsks , as her fingers probe your insides
by this point moans fill her house , you gently rock back and forth on her fingers seeking pleasure
until you felt her pull out her fingers at first you whined earning you a deep chuckle from the indian
you felt a much more bigger thing replace it — god was that her shit .it felt amazing the stretch that her tip kissed your cervix
"faster please" you moan , as she started bouncing you on her , you started blushing and sweating out of pure pleasure
her hands snaking around your breast taking one in her mouth , swirling her tounge around it
"gonna fill you up" she pants , hemr moans mix with yours as she keeps a brutal pace , the knot in your stomach quickly getting tighter
"please fill me up!!" you moan pathetically
"such a fuckin' whore for me" she breathes out before finally painting your insides
you silently scream—she prolonged your orgasm until you felt exhausted
pulling out of you , Lara took a look at your cunt dripping with her cum
"beautiful" she says before carrying you to her bed resting you there
"are you okay?" her kind demeanor now back
"yes thank you" you replied
"okay that's good— take a nap , I'll wake you up when dinners ready" she says smiling at you
you hum far too tired to form words
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the ballad of money, power, and glory.
(coriolanus snow x reader x lucy gray baird)
summary: being lucy gray's best friend, you were always updated on her life, not knowing how she truly felt for you. and now, with coriolanus snow being your new friend, it was odd seeing them fighting so much over your attention, with you not knowing that both of them were obsessively in love with you.
based on this ask
c.w: lucy gray baird, coriolanus snow, implied aromantic reader, yandere behavior from both of them (nothing too serious), unrequited love, drama, jealousy, love triangle, obsessive love. contains some movie/book accurate mentions but nothing very important, violent content, lucy is mentioned to have been your first kiss, commedy in the end.
chapter one: money.
"god, you gotta see her, snow." lucy beamed, her smile going from ear to ear as she talked about you. "she's so cute! i think she's the love of my life, truly." she said
snow frowned at her words. in the capitol, it wasn't seen in good lights to have someone talking so passionately about other person of the same gender. he rolled his eyes internally, his arms were on the back of his back as he walked behind her. supposedly, you were going to be waiting for them at the train station.
he walked, and walked, and walked. all of those minutes were awfully torturing his soul as he watched lucy gray talk more and more about you- as if she hadn't done it during the entire hunger games already. like on the zoo, when he thought she would be crying from fear of dying when, in reality, she was crying from fear of not seeing you for a last time.
he remembered it perfectly, better than he remembered the biology classes he had. lucy bawling her eyes out silently, still sobbing as she looked at him and explained how much she owed you- how much she loved you. it was like she couldn't think of anything other than you.
"she is always so pretty, so sickeningly beautiful. i can't stand the thought of losing her, snow. i wanna be with her." she said, her eyes red and puffed while her nose was as red as a tomato.
"have you told her about it?" he asked, face leaned on his fist as he observed the singer cry.
"no, snow." she answered, sniffing. "i've made a mistake," she chuckled, wanting to slap herself.
"what did you do?"
'i only noticed i love her now."
remebering that, snow started thinking that you should be the most beautiful girl of district 12- or that maybe you didn't had a single flaw on your skin por something like that. maybe you were one of those who hypnotized people at your surroundings to make them percieve you like the most desired thing they wished for.
but then he saw you from afar, waiting for lucy gray while your eyes roamed through the crowd. he didn't asked for you, no, never. he never asked you to blink like a doll, to look at him with those shining eyes and god, whatever it was that snapped inside you made him obsessed with the thought of having you as his main prize.
his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of lucy gray baird hugging you tightly, kissing your face multiple times as you laughed, hands on her waist as you kissed her face too. he cleared his throat, awkwardly.
"ah, snow. that's my best friend, my soulmate, y/n" she said, and you chuckled before shaking his hand.
"pleasured to meet you, yn. im-"
"coriolanus snow, i know." you said, kissing the back of his hand in a theatrical manner. "hello."
"you know?"
"yeah, my dear lucy told me all about you. and, let's be sincere, you were on the tv during the interviews on the hunger games." you said, smiling while shaking his hand "i'm happy you helped her!" you said
the spark that shone in his heart was fueled furiously by your words. 'your desde lucy'? what's that, a movie?
that was the first time he felt jealousy.
chapter two: power.
lucy gray baird was your best friend since kindergarden. what could you say? sandbox love never dies.
well, her love for you seemed to have grown sharp as a way to protect you and herself from the ones that could hurt you. that's why she glanced at snow menancingly as he forced his place between you both at the bar. when you were dancing with some older group of old ladies, she finally spoke up.
"what are you doing?" she asked, not looking into his eyes, and she didn't needed to for him to know she was angry.
"what do you mean?" he asked, faking innocence.
"don't act innocent, coriolanus." she growled, frowning "she's mine."
"i don't recall asking for that information." he said, smiling at the sight of your happy face dancing with other elders.
"you will not take her away from me." she said, getting up and walking to you only to playfully grab your waist and your hand, dancing with you while coriolanus watched.
you were so dazzling beautiful in his eyes, he just had to have you. it wasn't his fault that lucy gray thought and felt the same way about you.
with that in mind, lucy gray baird punch on his face was unexpected.
"what the fuck, baird?!"
"i told you to leave her alone! you are a fucking peacekeeper, coriolanus! when will you stop that?!"
"'that' what???" he asked, voice loud enough for him to frown at it.
"don't feign dumb, you disgraceful blond. you know she has sensible hearing and you bring her in to fucking SHOT at trees?" she screamed. the singer had the most defiant frown on her face, making it clear just how much she was willing to go for you.
his expression seemed to calm down, his stare on her became confused. "i... i didn't know- she didn't tell me-"
"oh of course you don't know. do you even bother asking?!" she asked, her eyes boring holes into him. "get away from her, snow."
and she left him behind just like that.
of course he wouldn’t know how sensitive you were when it comes to your hearing. he would never get to know you the way she did. but behind that façade, she hated herself for introducing him to you.
at this moment, she hated snow as much as he hated her.
chapter three: glory.
that wasn't on your plans.
you were aware of your friendship with lucy being a bit too... sweet. you didn't care about it. she was still your best friend and you were still the girl who saved her from that ginger girl.
when you met coriolanus snow, you could already see history repeating itself. lucy was jealous and coriolanus was obsessive. this match would end up being your death, probably.
you didn't really liked them the way they wished you did. you were aware of how much coriolanus liked you, from the moment you kissed the back of your hand till now.
and yet, you were still not into the singer nor the victor, you were fine on your own and decided that a long time ago. you wouldn't be a good girlfriend, couldn't even take care of yourself, how would you take care of someone else?
for that motive, and others, that i won't be able to speak about, you never liked anyone. and people started thinking it was lucy gray's fault, with her cunt m constant bragging about being your first kiss. and she was, but you not liking anyone wasn't her fault, you truly just couldn't seem to find someone who was just right to you.
with that being said, you were the one angry at them right now. what the hell that has happened between them, envolved you, and you weren't having it.
"i don't love any of you," you said, for their own shock.
chapter four: the ballad of the unloved ones.
sitting still on front of you, lucy gray baird felt like she was punched on her heart, losing air from her lungs quickly than actually needed. coriolanus, right by her side, felt the urge to throw up as he recieved the unhappy news of how you didn't loved them.
it was the truth, though. but you still held them on each of your arms and let them take in the affirmation of how you felt about them.
"but-" lucy begun, shaking a bit from the anxiety on her chest.
"-no, lu. i'm sorry," you said, "i don't really feel like loving anyone. i never loved anyone, not in this way though." you cooed, giving her the comfort of your kisses on her forehead.
"but maybe, if we j-just-" coriolanus stopped in his tracks when you shook your head negatively, your fingers drawing patterns on his scalp, and he almost meowed at it.
"sorry, dear. i only love you both as friends." you said.
and they understood you after a long talking, a bunch of silent tears and sobs from their delusions.
by the end of the day, they were at the bar, both looking pathetically red from the way they cried after it.
"sorry for punching you on the nose," lucy said, and she looked like a ghost, finger tracing patterns on a cup. "i don't wanna lose her," she goes.
"sorry for shooting the mocking jays on that evening," he said, sipping on his cup. he was refering to the evening where she punch him.
"you did what."
"uh. i shot the mocking jays."
"coruolanus 'm gonna shoot you in the ass." she growled.
they were back to being friends, and made sure to protect you. just because you didn't reciprocated none of their feelings it didn't mean they would start bitchin' about it (even though they did for like, two weeks.)
so, them both heard festus with his friends talking about you- it wasn't nothing good. and which better way to end him than punching him?
yeah, they were still your best friends. you still loved them dearly with each part of your being.
but just as friends.
#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#young president snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#x reader#lucy gray baird#lucy gray x reader#lucy gray my beloved#lucy gray x yn
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Alecto was the first body John ever made. And G1deon was the second, regrown from just an arm.
And if G1deon is anything to go by, John isn't very good at making bodies:
Unlike the other Lyctors, all of whom skewed hungry, soft men and women of the necromancer build, his frame carried nothing but muscle. He was sinew over bone. He was a walking tendon. He had a raw, stretched look to him like an idiot’s construct, bones that had been slippered in meaty fibrils to keep them moving. A metabolized, contracted striation, without fat, the only curve a hollow tautness from rib to stomach.
John had grown up with G1deon and knew what he looked like. He might even have been able to scrounge up a picture from somewhere. He presumably had time to think about reconstructing his body and was able to take time to do it. And yet, G1deon looks like this:
It was a man who looked like he had been stripped bloody by a wind machine and hadn’t healed up all the way; a wiry, knuckled-up tendon of a man, with the face of someone who had been starved once and burned recently.
If that's what a body he constructed with premeditation and planning and concentration looks like, how does one he made under more pressure look?
I wanted to make you the most beautiful body I could think of. He paused and said: “But I was stressed, okay? I was insane. Most of what had made me John had gone somewhere else. There were a few little thoughts left … a handful of things that made me me … a couple scraps of id. It’s not fair to judge me, right? I didn’t do this thinking … I didn’t do it like art.
John seems to think there's something to apologise for in Alecto's body.
We do get a description of Alecto, from Harrow's memories of her attempted divine murder/suicide at the age of 10:
God’s victory and death was a girl. Maybe a woman. At the time Harrowhark had not known how to tell, and the gender was only a self-interested guess. The corpse lay packed in ice, wearing a white shift, her hands clasping a frost-rimed sword, and she was beautiful. The formation of her muscles was perfect. Each limb was a carved representation of a perfect limb, each bloodless foot the lifeless and high-arched simulacrum of the perfect foot. Each black and frosted lash lay against the cheeks with perfect still blackness, and her nose—it was the pinnacle of what a nose should be. None of this would have broken Harrow’s spirit except that the mouth alone was perfectly imperfect: a little crooked, with a divot in the lower lip as though someone had softly pressed a dent into the bow with the tip of their finger.
Maybe Alecto is the perfect specimen of womanhood. Maybe Harrow was ten and had never seen anyone young and not swathed in vestments before and the bar was very low. Maybe Harrow just has very particular taste in women.
But between G1deon, John's apologies, that "high-arched simulacrum" of a foot, and Kiriona - Gideon, now with Extra Teeth - I have a feeling she doesn't just look like a regular blond lady.
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