#and in any case they have not learned how to be human yet
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defining your life (literally) àđ§·â§Ë. á”á” đ
okay so i know you've heard this a billion times before but you are the creator of ur life. and one of the biggest parts of life is language and communication. the words you use and the phrases you say and the way you speak, to others and to urself, can have such a huge impact.
firstly think ab ur philosophies and guiding principles in your life. what do you live by? what do you believe in? what guides you in your everyday decisions? why do you do these things? what do you hope to achieve? before you can change anything about yourself, you first need to figure out what "yourself" IS. you can't change something if there's nothing to be changed, otherwise ur flogging a dead horse.
linking back to what i said previously, words have power. as i've said many times before, our realities and beliefs are unique to us as individuals, which therefore makes them easily malleable because we as humans are easily malleable. we define our realities, and our words are a very important component in that. like a precious relic or prized treasure, they each hold their own meanings and values to each and every one of us. which is why it's so important yet so overlooked to truly take a moment and just think about what ur saying and what it means to you.
âââ
Ë Ìđ a few things you need to define before you go seeking:
đ§žđ àŁȘË peace
something many people seek, but not many actually find. you cannot search for something if you do not know what it is that you're searching for. what is peace? is it the short lived silence of an empty house, or feeling truly and utterly content with your life? is it fleeting, like any other emotion, or is it a permanent state of which you can maintain over time? what does it mean?
đ§đ àŁȘË friends
who are the people you call your friends? who are the people you'd be proud to call your friends? are you proud of your current friends, if any? if none, what would they add to you? what are friends supposed to be like? are they supposed to embarrass you and put you down, or support you and make you smile and hype you up? is it genuine connection you're looking for and / or have, or is it short-lived attention from people who'll only hurt and leave you in the end?
âšđ àŁȘË happiness
is happiness the thrilling high of an irrational decision, or the long-term effect of maintaining ur health and becoming the person you always wanted to be? is happiness quick validation and dopamine hits, or is it the long lasting outcome of positive decisions and change in ur life? or is it just a feeling that comes and goes like any other? why is this the case? why do you believe this? how would you define happiness to another person?
âââ
Ë Ìđ a few things you need to define before you go giving:
đŹđ àŁȘË love
how do u define love? romantic, platonic, familial, whatever u want. is it just a thrilling cycle of hurt, hurt, and more hurt, because that's all you've ever known, or is it learning to open ur heart no matter how scared you are to another person because despite ur fear, you have sincere and genuine trust in them that they care about you and the feeling is mutual? what would you define as love, truly?
đ§đ àŁȘË energy
is energy the life force that keeps the world going around, or the burst of life you get after a cup of coffee or tea in the morning? does it hold every fibre of your being inside it, a radiance specifically unique to you? does it become drained after hanging out with the wrong people, or is it just a word you've never put much thought into rather than the sugar high after a sweet treat?
âđ àŁȘË kindness
what is kindness? it's such a simple thing, but is it the act of sincere sweetness towards you that you're looking for, or is it short-lived attention from people who aren't gonna be there at your deathbed and only exist to cause obstacles and issues in ur life? is it sacrificing yourself for the world around you, or is it finding a balance between kindness to yourself and kindness to others?
âââ
Ë Ìđ a few things you need to define for ur peace of mind:
đ§đ àŁȘË family
do you believe family is solely a case of biological relation, or is it the emotional connection that's thicker than both blood and water? are the people you hang out with every day and love with your whole heart your family, or are the toxic mother and distant father your family? how do you define this?
đđ àŁȘË health
what is "healthy" to you? how would you define good health and bad health to another person, and for yourself, accustomed to your own personal needs and adjustments? do you want to be healthy? how does and/or would your life look if you were to work towards this?
đ©·đ àŁȘË impossibility
what do you believe are the limits of your capabilities? are there any at all? are you happy with the limits you're placing on your life, or are they simply restraints placed on you by another? what do you believe you can do and why?
đ«¶đŒđ àŁȘË balance
a simple word, but one that our whole lives revolve around; or at least in my sense of the definition. how would you define balance? is it important? what in your life revolves around it? what does it mean?
all my love... đŹđđ«¶đ»đ
#havent put out a long post in so long </3#this is somethibg ive been thinking ab a lot recently though so here !!!!!!#i love u#late bday present from me#it girlism àšđčà§#girlblogging#it girl#wonyoungism#girlhood#pink pilates princess#girly tumblr#this is what makes us girls#girly stuff#mental health support#mental health#becoming her#that girl#pink girl#it girl energy#thewizardliz#girlcore#girlworld#hyperfemininity#hyper feminine#divine feminine#girl things#girl thoughts#girl therapy#girl code
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another year... đźđđ
âââ
Ë Ìđ written 19.7.24, 8:11 a.m.
it has come to the end of this school year and i find that though it's only been one academic year, i have experienced the biggest era of change throughout this past year than i have ever in my entire life. since last year, i have grown indescribable amounts, having met new people, developed a new mindset, found new interests, started new projects, worked so hard, learnt so much to aid in my academic and personal life that i have become a completely different person.
at the beginning of this year, i resented who i was in the year prior. i hated who i was before and i wanted so badly to be different, to feel different, to be anything but what i was. i was motivated but depressed and hopeful but anxious, flitting back and forth between emotions and feelings and ideas on what i wanted to do.
my only main goal for this year was to become the girl i want to be. i know for a fact i've definitely got what i wanted, even if it is not to the extent i wanted it just yet.
i was crawling back up the ladder from rock bottom at the beginning of this year and now i'm over halfway up the ladder, and writing this i've come to the realisation i don't give myself half as much credit as i should. i have done so well. i am so proud of myself, and as i should be. as human beings, we automatically hyperfocus on our failings and shortcomings, and fail to give ourselves the amount of credit we'd give anyone else. but i have done freaking amazing for where i was a year ago. well done to me from last year!!! âĄ
the word surprise doesn't even scratch the surface of how utterly shocked i am that i am halfway through high school already. mentally, i'm still in primary, playing with my friends and drinking orange juice and eating pretzels on the playground at break, but i know that can't be the case forever and i'm slowly coming to accept that nostalgia and anemoia are just feelings i have to not overcome, but learn to live with and treat with kindness and fondness, just as i would any other emotions.
as much as i miss primary days when i didn't have the fast approaching, low looming fear of exams and jobs and finances and The Future as a whole, life is evermoving and everchanging in its fluidity and therefore i must be the same and yearning for a past i can barely remember as the days go by and a fragile, dreamlike childhood i'll never get back. in the end, there is nothing we can do but move forward.
so, another year comes, and i do all i can ever do; move forward, another step closer to the future. even as you grow, your heart will always stay the same, and that brings more comfort than any wistful memory ever could. i'm going to enjoy this break as much as i can, and i look forward to this coming year and making it something beautiful i can recall with a fond yet heavy heart, just as i do with the years already passed. âĄ
#this was written back in july#and i posted it on my old side blog huehearts if anyone remembers that#but i deleted it the next day bcuz i got shyđđ©·#and its just been sitting in my notes app for ages#so i figured i'd post it here now that i have an account solely dedicated to me#if anyone reads any of this i love you#and thank you so much#bee's diaries àšđčà§#online diary#digital diary#dear diary#girl blogger#this is a girlblog#girlblogging#it girl#wonyoungism#girlhood#pink pilates princess#girly tumblr#this is what makes us girls#girly stuff#pink lifestyle#it girl energy#academic year#academic angel àšđčà§
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"Why is it crying" "why is it like that" "I want to kick it" and its a video of an autistic child and/or a child who has not yet been taught emotional regulation
#i hate how people talk abt children#because i get it!! children can be really annoying#but genuinely wishing violence on them is insane#and thinking they don't belong in PUBLIC spaces too#becuz i understand some but sorry you have to deal with kids when u go out !!!#its ok if you don't want them yourself but sometimes you have to understand how five year olds are#like its like a harmful âchildren should be seen not heardâ rhetoric#and in any case they have not learned how to be human yet#and young children shouldn't really be blamed for bad parenting if the parents don't care about teaching them how to act in public lol
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so i love me a good sneasel!ingo fic, don't get me wrong
but also you cannot convince me The Overachieving Pokemons Georg Warden of the Lineaged Nobles of the Cliffs Ingo would not, at a minimum, have at least 1-3 razor claws on his person at any given time. possibly up to 8 or more if he's actively collecting them from distortions. he is well aware of how a sneasler evolves from a sneasel.
what im saying, is, emmet goes to sinnoh, and instead of Wacky Hijinks With Funny Tiny Sneasel Brother Time, is immediately grabbed, hoisted over the shoulder of, and summarily carried off by an 8ft tall extinct sneasel evolution wearing the uniform and shredded jacket of a guy that supposedly should have kicked it several centuries past.* because SOME Legendary That Shall Not Be Named Royally Fucked Up The Instructions On Sending A Human Through Time And Accidentally Made Him A Sneasel (it was Arceus. Arceus Done Fucked It Up. Dialga is legitimately baffled how It managed this sheer level of Fucked Up-edness doing Dialga's like literally One Job instead of just like. consulting it on the matter.)
-
bonus points if Lady Sneasler tagged along. and brings some eggs. which Ingo is pleased as punch over. except then he gets to be absolutely mortified because the people here think they're (biologically) his. I mean. he's absolutely 100% Dad Who Stepped Upâą energy when it comes to caring for the eggs and raising the hatchlings, but that certainly doesn't help in denying the allegations. Also that he can't speak Human but like. mostly the former
(their genetic father is the alpha lucario that inhabits the northern cliffs of the Highlands that border the Icelands. just as like. a side tangent. I forget where I first heard the idea from but Hell Yeah I'll Integrate That Into My Belief Sysytem)
*wait no actually Lady Sneasler would definitely be the one to forcibly abduct this shiny warden outcome she sees just wandering the street. if another noble wanted this one they should've claimed him sooner. Ingo's great with the kids, but there's only so much he can otherwise do in a sneasler body with no opposable thumbs anymore. and as if by divine intervention (much like the previous ingo that appeared for her) this off-brand Ingo just got plopped in her way, so of course she's gonna haul it off back to the new nest!
#they make a train (badum tss) wandering around Hearthome and watching the contests or parading through the park#they occasionally wander to veilstone and climb the department store lmao#but typically stick to Hearthome and mt Coronet. sometimes Eterna city#(I keep thinking Hearthome has both the department store and the contest hall but no it's just the hall)#(show of hands who would notice if i retconned that to be true in this lmao)#sbms#warden Ingo#lady sneasler#the sneasgo au#or maybe ingler au?#idek what to call this yet#it's been sitting in my drafts for a month and a half into I could get some doodles for it finished#answrs draws#mine#answrs writes#edit: i just asked myself if Ingo would battle with other trainers' pokemon if they asked#and then realized he'd have to learn how to actually use any of his moves from Lady Sneasler#reverse au: Sneasler is Ingo's trainer now lmao#now would he start at level 1 (and accidentally immediately evolve) or is he like. human age and that equals like level 45.#but still with no knowledge of how he's supposed to use moves#(wait wait the Psychically Turns All His And Your Pokemon Level 50 headcanon has another use-case here đ)#and finally the fourth option: level 54 because he Must!!! Yell!!! and that's when he learns screech. đ#final final edit (they say. like a liar.) - he's a full head shorter than her even as a sneasler#and as humans the twins are like. 4'11.#I need my short king representation okay#submas au
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25 Laws of power for women
Conceal your goals especially the ones that are appealing. Losing weight, reinventing yourself, marrying wealthy. Instead talk about your altruistic goals - to help children, invest in education, this will chase insecure people with vile intentions.
Do not give anyone your source of power: Was is a book that changed your life? a mentor? a movie? Never give up your secret to success. If forced to do say allude to God, the universe, the a random phenomenon
Use the patriarchy to your favor; we live in a world that is, only associate with men who have power, use that power for good.
Never appear too perfect but be selectively vulnerable when needed. Only share something that you will be comfortable saying. You might say âI forget my keys all the time,â âI donât know how to perfectly park a car â. But never disclose something you are not comfortable with just because you are afraid of being perfect.
Maintain distance in relationships. Friends are the best and you need them. But if you feel that they are becoming too dependent, see them at your own will. But also the reverse could be the case. Your friend may keep a distance, and that is the way of life. You have got to move on from it.
Develop your own style that makes you unique, beautiful, and elegant. Avoid trying to fit in the crowd of people who claim to care less about their style yet have too many opinions about other womenâs style
Avoid male friends at all cost, you will have male colleagues, male bosses, male acquaintances, business partners. Keep it that way. You do not want a Truman Capote divulging your secrets to the world. Do not keep a man who does not fit your standard.
You do not have to win at every game. Pick and choose what is best for you and leave room for others. And step down if you have attained that level of success, do not let the society do it for you.
Trust people but remember that we are all humans. So trust with discretion!
Confuse people with kindness; people are not always comfortable with beautiful and intelligent women. That power is too intimidating so confuse them by being genuinely generous, curious, kind, and passionate.
Keep your strong opinions to yourself.. if you support a movement, a way of life, do so silently.
We all have dirty laundry, wash them privately, donât expose yourself. Remain silent when people try to attack you or shame you. Whatever is not confirmed is not true. You are the only one who knows all the truth about you.
Donât attract pity or praise: People who pity you do not help you, in fact they might think that you are weak and could mock you at their annual gossipping meeting. And if you are doing things for the sake of praise you are wasting your time.
Choose yourself all the time; never put any oneâs feelings above yours.
Trust your own intuition if you feel someone is being malicious towards you, giving you back handed compliments then you should let them go
Never speak bad of another woman. Do not lazy around gossipping. Keep your hands clean and your conscience clear.
Avoid women with low self esteem they will bring you down. For some reason they do not like seeing other women who are doing better than them
Be careful who you seek validation from. Not everyone needs to be pleased. If they are in no way capable of contributing to your life in the ways you prefer, then donât ask them for their opinions or please them.
Do not compete with other women, if you do you are only putting them on a pedestal. You are making the the standard by which you measure your progress. If you do compete, begin digging your grave.
Do not give unsolicited advice, do not share the inner workings of your mind, If your mouth is very charitable you better start journaling.
Be well-rounded and interesting. It attracts people. It also keeps you busy because you are continually improving and learning. An idle mind is an easily subdued one.
Avoid women who want to live vicariously through you; they want to know who you know, shop where you shop, befriend who you befriend, wear what you wear.
Pay attention to the source of your discomfort; get rid of them. You tell them your dreams and they remind you of all your hindrances. They ask why are you dressed so fancy as though fancy isnât subjective. They undermine you interests and goals. They will also be quick to bring you down because they are afraid of your potential.
Do not fear power or please power. When we see powerful people we try to hard to befriend them, to be close to them but you need to be comfortable without them. Donât push yourself in the name of friendship, do not try too hard to be in their inner circle. Your independence of mind is the most important. Instead become a powerful woman, aloof to the presence of power but aware of its importance. Be an ingenious and intelligent and use your creativity to uplift yourself. When you do so it will be hard to ignore you. Even the powerful will become an ally.
Enjoy moments of solitude. Use that time to develop yourself, improve your body, learn new skills, create with your mind, read widely, become more elegant, then launch yourself.
Remember the most powerful women are the most intelligent. Inspired by Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. Use at your discretion.
#self improvement#self love#growth#mindfulness#self development#beauty#education#self care#classy#self help#power#new books#booklover#book review#book quotes#books#biography#self control#self discipline#self worth#students#smart#emotions#emotional intelligence#self growth#discipline#get motivated#life goals#gratitude#femininity journey
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Lesson learned
PART 3 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST
Unit Chief!Spencer x BAU!Reader Your boss decides to teach you a lesson when you question the motivations behind a certain case.
Content: (18+) 6k, breath play, fingering, a little case description, BDSM discussion, softdom Spence but borderlines to dom because hello this is breath play and reader being judgy judgy but donât worry heâs here to teach you a lesson or two a/n: The initial plan was to make him a hard dom but breathplay is already overwhelming so I decided to go the educational route. I am, by all means, not as smart as him, so there might be some inaccuracy
You would think that after joining the BAU for two years, youâd start to understand the twisted logic of a criminalâs mind. But you donât. Not really. Youâve dissected motives, uncovered patterns, and profiled suspects more times than you can count, and yet this case makes no sense.Â
Your eyes go over the photographs pinned to the board again. And again. And again. Itâs become almost a ritual now, like maybe if you look at it just one more time, the pieces might finally fall into place. But all you find staring back at you are three victims with the same marks on their necks. There was clearly a sign of struggle, but not one of fear. Not one that fits any pattern you know.
âI donât get it,â you say. âThe profile suggests the victims knew their attacker, but this doesnât look like anything close to rage. Or brutality.â
Spencer shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours as he leans closer to the board. âIt might not have been an act of violence,â he observes thoughtfully. âNot in the traditional sense, anyway.â
You furrow your brow. âIf it wasnât violent, then what was it?â
âThe bruising pattern is too symmetrical, and thereâs no sign of panic or defensive wounds on their hands. I think thereâs a chance the victims might have willingly participated.â
âWillingly?â Your eyes snap at him. âWhat do you mean, âwillingly participatedâ? No one willingly gets strangled.â
He meets your eyes for a second before looking back at the board. âI know it sounds unlikely,â he admits, âbut not impossible. See how the bruises are evenly spaced? They wrap around in perfect circles. The pressure is distributed just enough to leave a mark but not to crush the windpipe.â
âSpencer, thatâs exactly what happened. The windpipe was crushed.â
âYes, but not immediately. Thatâs the point.â He turns towards you again. âThe intention wasnât to kill them outright. The unsub wanted to bring them to the point of unconsciousness but not over it. At least, not at first. He was counting on their trust before pushing it too far.â
You let out a huff. âThatâs insane.â
âIt might seem that way to you, but itâs not unheard of. Sexual asphyxiation is a consensual act for some people. The lack of oxygen when someoneâs airflow is restricted can trigger a euphoric sensation which intensifies pleasure."
You stare at him like heâs just spoken a different language. âSo, you're saying they get off on... not breathing?â
âMore like they find excitement in giving up that control."
You cross your arms and study him, tilting your head with a skeptical frown. âHow do you even know this?â
The corner of his mouth twitches in a half-smile. âI read,â he says simply, as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world.
âYou have a book on sexual asphyxiation?â
âItâs more comprehensive than that. The book covers a wide range of kinks, fetishes, and other forms of sexual exploration which are considered extreme by societal standards.â
"Youâre telling me you read up on BDSM practices in your spare time?â
"I think of it as research,â he replies. âItâs part of understanding human behavior. You canât afford to be ignorant about the complexities of people's desires."
"Huh." Your eyes travel back to the images again. "You know, I still don't understand. I mean, willingly letting someone cut off your breath? Thatâs not just trust thatâs⊠I donât know, crazy?â
His eyes narrow towards you as if he's carefully considering how much to say.
âIt's not crazy,â he insists carefully. âFor people who engage in it, itâs not only about losing control. Itâs about reaching a heightened state of awareness, finding excitement in walking that line.â
"But what if that line gets crossed? What then? How could anyone think that sounds⊠fun?â
âWell, have you ever tried it?â
âOf course not!â you reply quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity. âWhy would I?â
âThen you wouldnât know,â he counters, his tone calm but pointed, like heâs presenting a fact rather than an opinion. âYou canât really understand the mindset until youâve experienced it. Itâs not something you can fully grasp from the outside.â
"I donât think I could ever trust someone enough to do that to me."
âMaybe you just havenât found the right person to trust.â
You scoff. âWhat? Are you offering?â
You laugh at your own joke, and you expected him to do the same. Or perhaps a quick âOf course notâ, even some rambling about how he didnât mean it that way. But when all youâre met with is silence, your laughter dies down, and your eyes dart back to him.
Spencerâs not looking at you, his eyes are fixed on the photographs pinned to the board. Heâs studying the bruises, the faces, the details like he always does, but thereâs a stillness in his expression, a tension in the set of his jaw that makes you think heâs considering something else entirely. And for a moment, youâre not sure if heâs really thinking about the victims or the case at all.
Maybe you shouldnât joke about things like that. He is your boss, after all, and even though there isnât exactly a strict superior-subordinate dynamic between the two of youâheâs always been more of a peer than an authority figureâyou wonder if maybe this time you crossed a line.
Spencerâs eyes remain on the photos for a long, agonizing second, and you think maybe heâs not going to respond at all. But then, slowly, he turns his head and looks at you, and the room suddenly feels impossibly small.
âIf I were to offer,â he says quietly, âWould you take it?â
His words knock the breath from your lungs, and all you can do is stare back at him. You donât know what to make of the question. Was it a dare? A test? Or perhaps something more?
Thereâs a part of you that wants to laugh it off. The conversation was absurd to begin with, so brushing it away like itâs nothing would feel like the safest option. The easy way out. But thereâs another partâone you donât want to acknowledgeâthat canât help but wonder what it would mean to say yes.
What if you did? you ponder.
What would it feel like to trust someone like that?
What would it feel like to trust him?
But before you can reply, the door to the meeting room creaks open, the noise echoing through the dimly lit space of the police precinct. A uniformed officer pokes his head inside.
âDr. Reid, we found a new lead on the vehicle.â
Spencerâs eyes stay locked on yours for just a beat longer as your heart hammers in your chest. Then, without a word, he nods to the officer, and any trace of whatever passed between you dissolves like it never happened at all.
The next few days turn into a blur. The lead on the unsubâs vehicle takes you across town, a chase that ends with the suspect cornered in an abandoned old house. Itâs almost anticlimactic how quickly it all happensâsirens blaring, doors kicked in, and in less than an hour, the unsub is in handcuffs. The case is finally closed, and itâs the kind of victory that usually brings a sigh of relief.
But today, you canât find that peace.
Back at the precinct, the rest of the team has already moved on to debriefing. Youâre left cleaning up the mess of photographs and notes scattered across the table. But your movements are slow, distracted, your fingers fumbling over the papers. Thereâs a prickling awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you know exactly why.
Itâs because Spencer is watching you. You donât even need to look to feel the weight of his gaze. Heâs leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, but thereâs nothing casual about the way his eyes track your movements.
You pause, photos in hand, and finally address him. âWhat?â
He doesnât answer right away. Instead, he pushes off the wall and starts walking toward you. He stops just short of armâs length.
âHave you thought about what we discussed the other day?â
You feel a rush of embarrassment, and the awkwardness of the moment makes you shift uncomfortably. Clearing your throat, you turn your attention back to the table, hastily grabbing a stack of photographs and shuffling them into a folder.
âWe didnât discuss anything,â you mumble, avoiding his gaze. âIt was just a joke.â
âWas it? You donât joke about things like that unless youâve thought about them at least a little.â
You let out a dry laugh, keeping your eyes firmly on the table. âI wasnât being serious. We were in the middle of a case, and we were all exhausted. I just said whatever came to mind.â
Spencer tilts his head, the way he does when heâs analyzing something, his eyes flickering over your face as though heâs cataloging every twitch of your expression.
âMaybe,â he concedes, and takes another step forward. âBut the offer wasnât a joke, and you didnât say no.â
Your fingers freeze over the photographs, the papers crinkling under your touch.
âI didnât say yes either.â
You mentally wince at how weak that sounds, almost as if youâre trying to convince yourself. You slowly look up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you find are those intense brown eyes staring back at you.
It unnerves you how calm he is, how easily heâs holding this conversation when your mind is spinning in a million directions.
âYou do realize what youâre offering?â you start to press, feeling the need to put it out in the open. âWhat this means?â
Spencer doesnât flinch, doesnât break eye contact for a second. âI do.â
âDo you? Because it seems to me like you might be taking this too lightly."
âIâm not taking it lightly. Iâm acknowledging that thereâs more to it than what youâre seeing on the surface.â
âAnd what makes you think I want to see beyond the surface?â
He leans in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, but not enough to cross any boundaries. âIâm offering a perspective, not forcing you to accept it. Understanding doesnât always come from reading about something. It comes from experience.â
You canât quite decide if his words make sense or if theyâre completely absurd. Itâs like heâs challenging your logic, your assumptions, but at the same time, thereâs a strange clarity to what heâs saying.
âWhy does it matter so much to you?â
Because heâs your boss? Because someone in his position always tries to make sense of everything for everyone else?
âBecause shaming people for their interests, for something they might find pleasure in⊠it isnât fair, and it isnât right.â
Now that was something you didnât expect him to say.
âI wasnât shaming,â you protest quickly, the words coming out defensive even to your own ears. âI was justâŠâ
âCurious,â he finishes for you. âAnd curiosity isnât a flaw. Neither is wanting to understand, and if youâre willing to explore that curiosity, then Iâd rather you experience it in a way thatâs safe. That you know is controlled.â
âSo what?â you snap back. âYou want to prove me wrong? Show me Iâve been looking at this the wrong way?â
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but itâs not playful. Itâs gentle, almost thoughtful, as if heâs carefully weighing each word. âNo,â he says softly. âI donât want to prove you wrong. I want to teach you.â
You blink at him. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, the words tangled somewhere between shock and disbelief. It takes a few seconds until you manage to find your voice.
âYou⊠want to teach me?â
âA lesson, if you will,â he explains, and the way he says itâso calm, so certainâmakes your heart stutter. âNot to prove you wrong, but to help you understand. You have your perceptions about⊠control and trust. I think the only way to really understand is to experience it yourself.â
You donât know what to say, what to do, and all that comes out is a shaky, barely-there laugh.
âA lesson,â you repeat, trying to make sense of the concept.
He nods, and thereâs no pressure in his voice, just an offer. Simple and clear. âBut only if itâs what you want.â
You arenât sure what to feel, much less what to say, and the uncertainty must show on your face. Sensing your hesitation, Spencer takes a step back, giving you space.
âItâs a lot to consider, and Iâm not expecting an answer now. But the offer still stands⊠whenever youâre ready.â
And with that, he gives you one last smile and turns away, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.
Youâre pacing in your hotel room, your footsteps muffled by the worn carpet as you make the same path back and forth over and over again. Every time you try to sit down, your leg bounces with restless energy, so youâre back up again, moving without purpose but unable to stop.
You tell yourself itâs just stress. The case, the pressure, the weirdness of being in a small-town motel with creaky walls and awful lighting. But you know better. You know exactly whatâs got your mind spinning and your stomach doing flips.
Spencer. And his damn offer.
You scoff to yourself, trying to laugh it off like you always do, but the joke doesnât land when itâs just you, alone with your thoughts. And, really, whatâs the harm in admitting the truthâto yourself, at least? That maybe the whole concept doesnât seem as insane as it did a few days ago. That maybe youâve found yourself wondering what it would feel like to trust someone that much.
You stop pacing, staring at your reflection in the mirror across the room. There it is, that nagging curiosity, that flicker of intrigue that Spencer saw before you even knew it was there. You let out a sigh, the weight of the realization hitting you.
God help you, but youâre actually curious.
And that might just be the scariest part of all.
You slip into your shoes and take a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. The motelâs quiet, most of the rooms dark as you walk past, and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if this is a mistake. The teamâs staying one more night here, the last bit of downtime before flying back tomorrow. A chance to decompress, to shake off the adrenaline of the case. Yet here you are, anything but relaxed, heading out because you canât stand one more second of pacing back and forth.
Your footsteps come to a stop outside Spencerâs room, and you stare at the numbers on the plaque for a moment. You could turn around right now. You could pretend you didnât walk all the way down the corridor with his words echoing in your head. But as much as you try to convince yourself that walking away is the logical choice, your hand moves on its own, and you knock.
Spencer doesnât look surprised when he opens the door. Without waiting for an invitation, you push past him, barging into the room before you change your mind.
âIf weâre going to do this, I have some ground rules,â you blurt out, the words rushing out all at once. âI donât know what you think this is going to be like, but I need control over some things. Non-negotiable.â
He closes the door with a soft click. âOf course,â he responds calmly. âI wouldnât expect anything less.â
âFirst,â you say, spinning around to face him. âIâm in control of when this starts and when it stops. If I say no, then we stop. Immediately. No questions, no convincing, none of that.â
âAbsolutely.â
âSecond, I need to know exactly what weâre doing. No surprises. You explain everything to me before we do anything.â
He quickly nods.
âAnd third⊠this doesnât leave this room. We donât talk about it to anyone else. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever.â
He takes a step forward towards you. âThis stays between us.â
You let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline settling into a nervous, thrumming pulse beneath your skin. âOkay,â you mumble, more to yourself than to him, trying to process the reality of what youâve just laid out. âThose are my rules.â
Spencer takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faintest trace of him. A mix of something clean and warm, like soap and worn cotton, an understated scent thatâs distinctly him.
âThen those are the rules we follow,â he reassures you. âYour terms. Your pace.â
âThank you.â
He nods his head again. âIs there anything else you want to discuss?â
There is, actually. Thereâs a question thatâs been hovering in the back of your mind. It feels awkward to say out loud, but the uncertainty gnaws at you, and finally, you force the words out.
âAre we⊠are we going to have sex?â
He holds your gaze. âDo you want to have sex?â
You go quiet again, letting the silence settle around you as you think about what you want, what you came here for. You slowly shake your head. âNo,â you reply. âNo, I donât.â
âThen we wonât. Thereâs more to explore in this than just sex.â
âRight, thatâsâgood.â You clear your throat. âI have⊠one more question.â
He gestures for you to continue.
âYouâre not going to fire me for this, are you?â
His soft chuckle fills your ear, and itâs the first time youâve seen him genuinely smile tonight. âNo,â he confirms, amusement flickering in his eyes. âIâm not going to fire you. Whatever happens between us wonât affect your work, I promise.â
You let out a breath you didnât realize you were holding, feeling a little of the weight lift off your shoulders.
âOkay, so⊠now what?â
âNow,â he says gently, âWe take it slow.â
He guides you toward the edge of the bed, and you find yourself moving automatically, sitting down on the mattress. The bed creaks slightly as he settles beside you.
âIf weâre going to do this,â he starts, turning slightly to face you. âI want you to be comfortable. And that means talking. You can start by telling me what youâre thinking. â
âThatâs⊠it? Weâre just going to talk?â
Spencerâs mouth lifts into a soft smile. âYes,â he confirms, âIf thatâs what you want. Thereâs no pressure to do anything else.â
The idea of just talking feels safe, but thereâs also a flicker of curiosity that you canât quite shake. You shift on the bed.
âWhat if I want to do something more?â
Spencerâs eyes search yours, and he doesnât move closer, doesnât do anything that could make the moment feel rushed. âIf you want to, then we can. Something simple to start.â
Your fingers trace the fabric of the bedspread. âLike what?â
âSomething small. It could be as simple as letting me guide your breathing. A way to practice trust without anything overwhelming.â
You swallow, the idea feeling both intimidating and oddly⊠reassuring. Thereâs comfort in the way he talks about it, the lack of pressure, and the way he makes it feel like thereâs nothing to fear.
âOkay,â you agree softly. âLetâs try that.â
He moves a little closer to you. âWeâll take it slow,â he promises. âTry to focus on your breathing and follow my lead.â
You close your eyes, feeling your breath shallow and quick, your heart racing as you try to find a steady rhythm.
âTake a deep breath,â he instructs softly. You inhale deeply, feeling the air fill your lungs, and when you open your eyes for a moment, you find his face inches from yours.
âGood. Now let it out⊠slowly.â
You follow his lead, exhaling, and you canât help but notice heâs mirroring your breathingâhis chest rising and falling in time with yours. Itâs oddly comforting, and a little unnerving, like he's syncing with the rhythm of your pulse.
âAgain,â he guides. âDeep breath in⊠hold for a count of three⊠then let it go.â
You do as he says, feeling your nerves steady slightly with each breath. In, hold, out.
âYouâre doing really well,â he murmurs, leaning just a fraction closer. His lips are so close that you can feel his breath brushing your skin. âIâm going to ask you something, but I need you to know you can say no. At any point.â
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.
âCan I touch you?â he asks gently, his words so soft they almost melt into the air around you. âJust on your shoulder, or your hand. I want to see how you feel about being touched while you focus on your breathing.â
Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, but you manage another nod. His hand moves carefully to rest on your shoulder, but even with the light pressure, you feel your body stiffen. Spencer notices immediately.
âYouâre tense,â he observes, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder.
You let out a small laugh, one that comes out more like a nervous exhale than anything close to amusement. âItâs kind of hard not to be,â you admit. âI guess Iâm a little nervous.â
âThatâs okay. Itâs completely normal to feel nervous.â He pauses for a second before continuing, his tone thoughtful, like heâs considering what might actually help. "There are a few things that can help when youâre feeling this way. One of them is focusing on your breathing, which weâre already doing. But thereâs also physical touch."
"Physical touch?â
"Kissing, for example," he explains, âcan actually help regulate your nervous system. It releases oxytocin, lowers cortisol levels. Basically, it signals your body to relax."
Your eyes fall on his lips. "Really?"
A flicker of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. âYes, but itâs only helpful if itâs something you feel comfortable with.â He tilts his head slightly, studying you. âWould you like to try?â
You meet his gaze again and, before you can overthink it, find yourself nodding, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. âYeah⊠okay. We can try.â
Before you even finish the sentence, Spencer leans in, his lips brushing yours with the kind of gentleness that catches you off guard. It's soft at first, like heâs testing the waters, and you can feel the slight hesitation in his movements as if heâs making sure youâre comfortable. Itâs sweet, almost too sweet, and for a second, you wonder if this is how he kissesâgentle, thoughtful, deliberate.
But as the kiss deepens, you feel the warmth of him pulling you in. Your heartâs doing this erratic thing where it skips every other beat, and your mindâs racing to catch up with what your bodyâs already starting to enjoy. And sure, maybe the science behind this kiss makes sense after all, because thereâs a part of you thatâs actually relaxing, even with the buzz of nerves still humming beneath the surface.
Then he pulls back, just enough for your lips to barely part, his breath warm against your skin. âHow are you feeling?â
It takes three heartbeats to find your voice. âUh... yeah, good,â you manage, a little breathless, a little more flustered than youâd like to admit.
âDo you want to keep going?â
You pause, thinking it over, and despite the swarm of nerves in your chest, curiosity wins out again. You nod, maybe a little too quickly. The moment you do, Spencer leans in again, and this time his kiss is deeper, more intent. The softness is still there, but thereâs a quiet intensity in the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand lightly cups the back of your neck.
Then his tongue brushes lightly against your lower lip, and a ripple of goosebumps spreads across your skin. You part your lips for him, and the sensation of his tongue slipping past m has you gripping the fabric of his shirt a little tighter.
Just when you think youâre getting used to it, his hand shifts, sliding up to wrap gently around the front of your neck. Not tight, not restrictingâjust enough to make you aware of it. The warmth of his palm against your throat sends a jolt of something sharp right through you. He seems to notice instantly, and without pulling his hand away, he breaks the kiss.
âAre you okay?â His thumb gently strokes the side of your neck. âI donât want to push you, if itâs too muchââ
But before he can finish, you shake your head quickly, surprising even yourself with how fast the words leave your mouth. âNo, I⊠trust you.â
His eyes soften at your words, and his grip on your neck stays gentle, almost protective. âWould it be okay if I touched you more?â
Your pulse beats rapidly beneath his fingers, a rhythm youâre sure he can feel, as if your heart is answering for you. ââŠyes.â
âDo you want to lie down? Would that be more comfortable?â
You feel the heat travel along your veins. âI think⊠that would be good.â
Spencer nods as he helps you shift back onto the pillow. He stays close but doesnât crowd you, his hand returning to rest lightly on your neck, that same soft pressure that keeps your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.
âRemember, focus on your breathing,â he reminds you. âThe way your body responds is tied to how much you let yourself feel. Trust that.â
His other hand begins to move. His hand trails up toward your shoulder, then lightly brushes over your breast. Itâs barely a touch at first, like heâs testing the boundaries, waiting for your body to tell him how far to go. Your breath catches for a second, but when you donât tense up, he takes that as a sign to continue.
âIs this alright?â
âYeah,â you manage to whisper, your voice a little breathless than you expected. And, God, you mean it. Itâs more than okayâitâs⊠unexpectedly good in a way that feels almost too intimate to think about.
His hand moves lower now, tracing a path down your side, before sliding gently across your leg. You donât even realize youâre holding your breath until you feel his fingers brush against the inside of your thigh.
âHow about this?â
You nod, biting your lip as you meet his gaze.
Spencerâs lips curls into the faintest smile. His hand inches higher, moving up your thigh with excruciating slowness until his fingers finally reach the heat between your legs.
Oh. Oh.
Your hips instinctively tilt toward him, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The heat pooling low in your belly intensifies as his fingers press lightly against you.
âStill with me?â
You nod, but internally, your mind is spinning. He begins to move in slow, circular motions, his fingers dragging against the fabric in a way that makes you bite back a moan. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and you can feel your arousal sticking uncomfortably to your panties. It doesnât shock youâyou know understand how being touched like this will make you wetâbut what surprises you is how much more intense it feels when his grip around your neck tightens.
Your breath hitches, and before you can stop yourself, a moan escapes your lips.
He pauses for a moment, his grip relaxing just enough for you to catch your breath. âI want you to feel the difference,â he explains. âThe pressure changes everything. It makes you more aware of every sensation, more focused on how your body responds. But if itâs too much, you tell me, okay?â
You nod, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. âIâm good.â
His thumb traces the outline of your jaw. âDo you want me to continue?â
ââŠyeah.â
His hand travels towards your hips, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants. âShould we get rid of these?â
You donât have to think about it for long. The answer is already there.
âYou can take them off.â
Spencerâs fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants before tugging it down. But as the fabric pools around your ankles, you hesitate for a second before your hand instinctively reaches for your shirt. You fumble with the hem, glancing at him as you pull it halfway up, your breath coming out in a small, awkward laugh.
âI mean, itâd feel weird to be naked from the waist down and still⊠you know, fully dressed on top.â
His eyes linger on you, and his reaction is subtly amusing. âWhatever makes you comfortable.â
Without thinking too much about it, you tug the shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra follows, quickly joined by your panties, and before you know it, youâre lying naked on your bossâs bed.
Or, technically, the bed heâs been sleeping on these past couple of days.
Spencerâs eyes move over you slowly, lingering on the curve of your perky breasts, your smooth skin, and the unmistakable wetness between your thighs. His gaze is careful, appreciative but never lingering too long in one place, like heâs taking you in while still giving you space to breathe.
âYouâre so pretty.â
Pretty? The word feels almost quaint given the situation, but the way he says it makes it feel like itâs more than that. Like heâs seeing all of you, the parts you donât often reveal, and he still thinks youâre beautiful.
And somehow, that simple compliment leaves you more exposed than the fact that youâre lying naked in front of him.
âI canât believe we're doing this,â you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
His hand brushes along your arm. âYou donât have to overthink it. Youâre in control here. We can stop whenever you want.â
âI know.â
He tilts your head with his hand. âIs this okay so far?â
You offer him a smile. âItâs okay.â
His other hand lands on your knee. âCan you spread your legs for me?â
You feel the nerves buzzing beneath your skin, but thereâs also a warmth, a curiosity, a pull toward him. You inhale deeply, letting the breath steady your nerves, and then, without letting your mind spiral any further, you slowly part your legs.
His palm glides along your inner thigh, and then he touches you again, only this time, thereâs no barrier between you. You can feel the rough pad of his fingertips as they gently caress your folds that it pulls a sharp breath from your lips.
âDoes this feel good?â
You nod. Itâs more than just goodâitâs everything. The way heâs paying attention to every inch of your body is overwhelming in the best way. His fingers trace a slow path along your skin, finally pausing as they brush against you between your folds. Without hesitation, Spencer slides a finger inside you. The sudden stretch pulls a gasp from your lips.
The slick wetness between your thighs coats his fingers almost instantly, and you feel yourself responding to him, opening up in ways you didnât even know you could. He studies the way his finger moves in and out of your cunt, and the more he touches you, the more your hips begin to move on their own.
He takes your response as a sign to continue.
"I'm going to wrap my hand around your neck again," he tells you, without waiting for more than a slight nod of your head, his fingers curl around your throat.
"The pressure here," he begins, his thumb lightly pressing at the side of your neck. "Isn't just about cutting off your air, it also means restricting blood flow to your brain.â
He pushes another finger inside you, and the increased fullness draws a sharp intake of breath from you.
âBy limiting the blood flow like this,â he continues, applying a bit more pressure around your throat. "It triggers your body to release adrenaline and dopamine. That rush youâre feeling? Itâs your body chasing euphoria."
Euphoria. You never really thought about it like this before, how something so controlled could unlock a part of your body that felt so overwhelming. The feeling isnât just pleasure, itâs a raw intensity that borders on something deeper as your cunt clenches around him. Your breath stutters, caught in a sharp contrast between the slow burn in your throat and the urgent heat flaring between your legs.
Heâs unraveling you, pulling you apart thread by thread, yet leaving you desperate for the moment he puts you back together again.
You need more.
âYouâre doing so well,â he murmurs soothingly. The words send a new wave of heat rushing through your body. Your hips move restlessly, and you can hear the soft whine escaping your throat, growing louder with each thrust.
Spencer notices immediately, his fingers slowing just for a moment. âToo much?â
You quickly shake your head, almost frantic, the last thing you want is for him to stop. The moment you do, his grip on your throat tightens slightly and your eyes flutter closed as a wave of euphoria washes over you. Head falling back against the pillows, your vision starts to blur. You feel the air restrict in your throat.
âI need you to breathe for me, sweetheart.â His thumb strokes lightly against your neck. âThe more you control your breathing, the better itâll feel.â
That word alone almost undoes you. It rolls off his tongue like itâs meant to be soft and soothing, but instead, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. Your chest rises and falls as you do exactly what he says, because apparently, being called sweetheart with his fingers wrapped around your neck makes you want to obey him, more than youâd care to admit.
"Thatâs it, keep focusing on your breathing."
You force your eyes open, but everything feels hazy, unfocused. Youâre not sure if it's from the lack of air or the way heâs looking at you, but you can feel yourself losing control. Your eyes flutter half-closed again, lips parting in a breathless moan, and before you realize it, your tongue slips out, barely grazing your lower lip.
Spencer knows youâre close. His thumb presses just a little harder against your throat, not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough for your inner walls to grip his fingers tightly.
âI know, I know, I've got you,â he whispers. âYouâre doing so good, sweetheart. Just let go whenever youâre ready."
You canât decide if the sound of his voice is making it easier or harder to hold on. Thereâs a brief moment where you think you might hold it together, but then your body betrays you. Your muscles tense, your breath catches in your throat, and all the control you had slips away in an instant. Itâs as if your brain is giving in to exactly what he said it wouldâa surge of chemicals that makes your limbs feel heavy and light all at once.
Your orgasm slams right into you, the most intense thing youâve ever felt. It floods your senses so completely that your lungs struggle to catch up. The tremors rack your body, and itâs only when your legs give a final, uncontrollable shake that he finally releases your neck, allowing the air to rush back into your lungs in a dizzying, breathless moment of relief.
Before you can fully recover, his lips are on yours in an instant. He moves against your neck, kissing the very spot where his hand had held you. âShhh, itâs okay, youâre okay.â
When you manage to catch your breath and blink through the lingering haze, he lies down on the bed and pulls you into his arms. It takes a whole minute before your breathing fully steadies, his hand stroking your hair the entire time.
âHow are you feeling?â
You donât know what to make of it all, so you laugh breathlessly instead, the only response you can muster.
âLike Iâm about to pass out.â
âWhat?â He looks at you in alarm. âYou are?â
You shake your head quickly, offering him a small smile. âNo, no, Iâm fine. Itâs just⊠it was really intense.â But the worry doesnât completely leave his face, so you try again, placing your hand on his chest. âGood intense. Iâm okay, I promise.â
He lets out a slow breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. âSo I take it you liked it?â
A flush of embarrassment washes over you, and you canât quite meet his eyes as you nod. âYeah⊠I did,â you admit, your voice soft, almost sheepish. âGo ahead, you can gloat. Tell me I was wrong.â
Instead of taking the bait, he gently traces his fingers along your neck. âIt was never about proving you wrong. The judgment you made that day, about not getting why someone would like this⊠itâs hard to fully grasp until you feel it yourself.â
âI wasnât judging,â you murmur, feeling a need to defend yourself.
âMaybe not intentionally,â he says thoughtfully. âWhen it comes to BDSM, thereâs a lot of misunderstanding or assumptions people make from the outside, itâs really more than just control or pain. Thereâs trust, communication, boundaries. And I think, in a way, thatâs what happened tonight. You trusted me enough to let go.â
Youâre quiet for a moment, processing what heâs saying. âAre you suggesting I could be into all of this?â
âNot necessarily,â he replies carefully. âBut I think itâs possible that thereâs more to it than you realize. You trusted me tonight, and thatâs the most important part. Thatâs where it all starts.â
You chew on his words for a second. Itâs not something youâd ever considered before, but now that heâs brought it up, you canât deny that the thought has sparked something.
âSo you think I might want to explore this further?â
His lips curl into a soft smile. âItâs not about what I think. Itâs about what you want. If youâre curious, then we can explore it together.â He leans in slightly. âIs that you want?â
The spark you felt moments ago? It flickers stronger now. The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but with him, it feels⊠possible. Safe, even.
You feel a tightness in your chest.
âI think⊠maybe, yeah.â
His smile deepens just a fraction. âWeâll take our time,â he reassures you, his thumb brushing lightly over your throat. âWe can talk about this when we get back. You need to rest for now.â
You shift closer to him, feeling the rustle of his clothes against your bare skin. âCan I stay here tonight?â
His chin lands on top of your head. âYou can stay with me as long as you want.â
What a dangerous offer, you think as you sink further into his arms. But not as dangerous as the way your heart flutters at the thought.
#kinktober 2024#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid fanfiction
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How to Raise Your BatBoy
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Dick sighed into his cup of coffee. This is not what he wanted to see when he woke up in the morning. That and the giant bat wing covering his face this morning.
Danny was getting bigger. Not physically but his bat features are changing. The teen was getting better at changing shape. His ears are sharper ending in slight points, his fingers are more clawlike, and he has grown a thick ringed collar of white fur around his neck. Thankfully that's as far as his transformation can go right now. Danny has learned to pick and choose what traits he wants.
Danny has claimed Dick's gymnastic equipment as his. The aerial equipment is now used as roosts for Danny to hang off of and nap. But that hasn't stopped him from sleeping on top of Dick like an overgrown cat.
Bat wings expel a lot of heat as blood circulates through the thin skin which cools the blood in hot environments that they are native to. So to regulate their temperature they rest together to conserve heat. That's probably why Danny decided to grow the fur collar and sleep on top of Dick.
And why is Dick so frustrated? Because he's fighting for his goddamn life in this house. His cute aggression is barely contained. He wants to squish the kid's cheeks and ruffle his hair all the time.
Dick would be going over case files while Danny watches tv on the floor and Dick will feel the insatiable NEED to go bother him.
That damn fuzzy neck fur calls to him like a cat picking up a kitten.
Danny chirps! He fucking chirps! Like a baby bird!
Dick is trying so hard to be normal but if you had an adorable and clingy batboy you'd do the same.
Dick wants to tell the world about his batboy.
And he does. When he's Nightwing he will not shut up about how much he adores his sidekick. God forbid Robin is visiting, Dick will cry while taking hundreds of pictures of them together.
Damian doesn't like Batboy at all. At least that's what he says. He's just jealous that Batboy has bat wings. Damian warms up to him after they go out gliding together and get to study his wings.
It however goes downhill when they go on a misadventure and Batboy took a bite out of Scarecrow. Batboy had an immunity to fear toxins, instead, it overstimulated him. He ended up lounging at Scarecrow when he taunted Damian as the boy was paralyzed by the gas. When Damian was able to get back on his feet he found Batboy sobbing with his mouth covered in blood.
"Im sorry. I didn't. I didn't mean to-" His wings shielded him from sight.
Scarecrow was alive but the two sets of puncture wounds on his neck and the claw marks were not doing him any favors. The bite seemed to render him immobile at least for now. A symptom of a bat bite was paralysis.
Damian notified the others. Bruce and Dick got there first. Both adults were thankful they were okay but there was a disagreement.
"Nightwing you don't even know what the boy is. He could have killed Scarecrow. We don't know what he's capable of yet. He lost control." Batman stated firmly looking at the blood-stained teen that clung to Nightwing.
"He was protecting Damian. He didn't want to do that." Nightwing pulled Batboy behind him.
"It doesn't matter what he wanted to do. What will you do if he loses control and actually kills someone next time?" Bruce crossed his arms.
"All of us are capable of losing control and killing. I did it and you never came down on me like this. You are a hypocrite. You think he's a monster because he's not human." Nightwing was not going to let Batman point a finger at his son like this. He killed Joker once and he had don it out of rage and hate, not even to protect someone else.
"What I'm saying is that he isnt human. We don't don't know how he can be affected. We don't know his weaknesses. What if someone else figures out what fear toxin does to him and turns him into a weapon? Will his guilt be enough to stop him or will it destroy him? Do you want him to become like Man-Bat? Do you want to put your son in danger?" Batman didn't give in to Nightwing's taunt and stated his view firmly.
"We're leaving." Nightwing picked up the shrinking Batboy and made his escape but not before hugging Robin goodbye.
Nightwing had to move quickly. He could feel Danny getting smaller with every step.
This happened sometimes. Danny would sometimes retreat inwards when he was stressed. He changed to become as vulnerable as he felt.
When they got home Danny looked to be just 3 years old.
"Its okay baby bat. Not one is going to hurt you. I promised remember?" Dick held the chind aginst his chest.
"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." Danny said between gasping breaths trying not to cry. His small wings wrapped around Dick's shoulders
"No, its not. You did the right thing no matter what Batman says. I'm proud of you."Dick said stroking Danny's black-streaked white locks.
(*Does a silly jig*)
#i regret nothing#batman#danny fenton#danny phantom#dc x dp#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc#nightwing#damian wayne#dick grayson
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DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or
"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.
~~~~~
 âYou're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.â
Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.
There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.
âCalm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?â
âI live somewhere ne...here.â
Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.
However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.
âI mean, what are you doing outside?â
Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.
The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.
âDon't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.â
âTo do what?â
âTo steal.â Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. âNothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.â
âYou're new to this, aren't you?â
âIs it that noticeable?â
âPretty noticeable, yes.â
The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.
That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.
And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.
Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.
âStop it. What do you want?â
âI study. You seem experienced. â
âPeople don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.â
âReally?â
Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.
âYou're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.â
âOkay.â
Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.
âIf I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where IâŠwork?â
âMaybe. Is this a deal?â
âYes, if you'll agree, idiot. â
Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.
âFirst of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.â
Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.
He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.
They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.
A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.
âDude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?â
âFine.â To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.
Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.
Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.
It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.
âMa- Can I have your name?â Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. âSorry!â
âJason.â
Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.
âReal name! Real one!â The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. âYou shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.â
âThere are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?â
âYou're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.â
Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?
âWellâŠYou're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. â Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.
âFriends?â
âYes. Friends forever?â Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.
âForever.â The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."
âGood. I'll remember.â
The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. âJason is your name.â
âThat's right, buddy.â
âI won't call you that name.â Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. â I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.â
âHah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. â
âWell, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.â
Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold. So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.
On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and just wants to listen.
Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.
When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.
A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts. After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.
Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.
No.
It helped.
And then he died.
And things are getting worse by the day, hah.
~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~
Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.
Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.
âHey! Don't touch B, you.. âAlmost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply â... pointy-eared.â
A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.
âMan, is it you?â
Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.
âJay! It's been a long time, my friend.â Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. âYou've grown up a lot.â
âAnd you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.â Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. âIt's from a dollar store, nothing special.â
John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?
âYou gave it to me. That's why it's special.â
The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks tooâŠmagicalâŠin every sense.
âDo you know him, Hood?â Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.
âNo.â
âYes.â Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. âHe was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.â
Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.
Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.
âName!â Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. âHe's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...â
âOh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.â The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. âYou're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.â
âHm.â Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. âSo what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?â
Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?
âHm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.â The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. âBut even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.â
The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.
âYou are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.â
âNo, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.â Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. âOnly good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?â
âWait. Is this Willis?â The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.
"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."
âOh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.â Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.
âI prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.â
âRiiightâŠbut still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~â
âJa-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.â Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.
"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"
The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.
Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed andâŠ
âFuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.â
âJason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?â Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.
âOh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more importantâŠWho would I rather stay with? HmâŠLet's say, um, theoretically, of courseâŠIf your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?
"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."
âYes, yes! Right!â Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. âSee, that's how you should have reacted.â
Constantine: âŠWhat an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.
Come with me now to see my world
Where there's beauty beyond your dreams
Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins
#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#dpxdc memes#dead on main ship#dead on main#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc fanfic#dp x dc fic
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Fantasies (Part II) | S.R.
summary: Spencer and (Y/N) have been working back to back to back cases before finally getting a weekend off and take the opportunity to go to a local convention and have some fun cosplaying.
this is smutty smutty smut smut so 18+, minors dni please and thank you :)
contains: oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, roleplay, creampie
the first part can be found here (it's also 18+ and smut sorry but also not sorry)
also before any potential trekkies come for me yes i am aware that in the early to mid aughts Vulcan was a ridiculously hard language to learn but suspend your disbelief because the thirst for early series spencer reid is real for me okay?
any dialogue in italics is in Vulcan, any dialogue in regular text is in English :)
"You almost ready, (Y/N)," Spencer asked through the door to the bathroom, knocking lightly as he did so. "Garcia is supposed to be here in 15 minutes so we have to make sure we're ready before then."
"Almost!" She called back, "just finishing up my makeup!"
Spencer took a look in the full-body mirror that she had resting up against the wall. He decided to cosplay as a generic original series star fleet science officer to keep it simple, but (Y/N) offered to help him put on some proper prosthetics so now he's a generic Vulcan science officer (with slightly less than Vulcan hair). He gently fiddled with the ears as he looked in the mirror and then jumped slightly as he felt a pair of small arms gently wrap around his waist from behind before he heard the soft, mellifluous voice of his girlfriend from over his shoulder.
"Don't do that too much," she chided him with a good natured chuckle, "I worked hard on applying those!"
"Sorry, angel," he offered a sheepish apology (complete with embarrassed smile), before turning around to face her and gently plant a kiss on her lips. She stood on her toes and moved her arms from around his waist and wrapped them around his shoulders. His arms snaked their way around her waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth and dancing against her own.
Once they broke apart, Spencer took the chance to take in her own outfit. She looked much more convincing in her Vulcan cosplay with her dark hair styled into a perfect chin-length bob, the front of it pushed back and tucked behind her prosthetic ears, and slightly curved bangs that were just long enough to cover the fact that she very much had human eyebrows. She had also decided to go with an Original Series cosplay, wearing a short blue star fleet dress with a translucent pair of black thigh high stockings. On her feet were a pair of black knee high leather boots with a small two-inch heel.
Spencer became aware of how uncomfortably tight his pants were starting to feel and cleared his throat, looking at literally anything else (he settled on keenly observing the books on his shelf, noting to himself that he should really get around to dusting at some point). He couldn't afford to be horny if they were going to be hanging out with Garcia and her friend for the day.
"You okay, there, Spencer?" The melodic giggle snapped him back to reality, and he could feel his face burn as his cheeks blushed a bright shade of red. He was painfully cognizant of the fact that her hands were now tracing along the waistband of his black pants, immediately nullifying his efforts to decrease his arousal. Her fingertips moved lower, ghosting over the bulge in the front.
Spencer let his mouth drop open before managing to stammer out, "(Y/N), we don't have enough time toâ" his voice cut out as he gasped at the sudden sensation of her small, soft fingers slipping past the waistband of his pants and briefs, gently wrapping around his throbbing member.
"Well, Dr. Reid," she began slowly stroking up and down, earning an enthusiastic grunt from Spencer. He'd never tire of hearing her call him that. "It would seem you're in no position to be going anywhere quite yet. The most logical course of action would be to relieve you before the arrival of our companions, would it not?"
Holy shit. He had fantasized about roleplaying with her like this ever since she had brought it up a few months back. His knees buckled at the thought.
A moan forced its way through his lips as his hips bucked up into her hand. "You make a very sound argument, Dr. (Y/L/N), but I don't know if we have tiâoh my god yes!" She ran her thumb over the leaking tip, and then started to sink to her knees. She planted sloppy kisses along the waistband of his pants before working the fly on the front with deft and eager fingers. As soon as his cock was freed from its constraints her lips were wrapping around the tip. His fingers quickly tangled into her hair and he had to restrain himself from pushing her down onto him further as her tongue danced and swirled across him.
Thankfully she didn't make him wait for too long, her mouth starting to slowly envelop the rest of him until he could feel the tip hit the back of her throat. She gagged lightly and pulled back a little bit, bringing her hand up to wrap around the part of his shaft that didn't quit fit into her mouth and stroking it in rhythm with her bobbing head.
With a fresh burst of energy, Spencer moved his hips in time with her hand, his knees weakened by the desire coursing through his veins. He knew they didn't have much time left before Garcia and her friend arrived, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her to stop. He was lost in a world of pure sensation, her lips, her tongue, her hand, it was almost too much for him to bear.
As she increased the pace of her movements, his breath came in shallow gasps, trying to fight the urge to shout out her name. He could feel the tension growing within him, a storm brewing deep inside him.
(Y/N)'s lips moved up and down around his shaft, her tongue dancing along the sensitive skin as she took him deeper than he thought possible. He could feel her throat constricting around him, her saliva filling his mind with the images of her lips and the sound of her moaning as she pleasured him. He couldn't imagine anything more incredible, more fulfilling, than the sensation of (Y/N)'s lips and tongue on him, wrapped around him so intimately.
(Y/N), her eyes closed in concentration, sensed that he was nearing his climax. She increased the tempo of her movements, her hand and mouth in perfect harmony, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Her eyes remained shut, fully immersed in the task at hand, completely unaware of the world outside of their bubble.
As the climax grew nearer, Spencer could feel his entire body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. His fingers tightened in her hair, gently urging her on as his cock throbbed with need. The room seemed to blur around them, their world shrinking down to just the two of them and the ecstasy that consumed them.
(Y/N) seemed to read his mind, picking up the pace even more as she continued to stroke his cock and suck his shaft with fervor. Her eyes remained closed, her focus completely on the task at hand. She knew that he was close, and she wanted to make sure he reached that peak of pleasure he so desperately craved. He could feel his orgasm building inside him, a storm of intensity that threatened to consume him whole.
And then, without warning, it hit him like a tidal wave. With a loud groan, Spencer's body convulsed as he released his load into (Y/N)'s mouth. She didn't hesitate, swallowing every drop, her eyes still closed as she continued to pleasure him until the very last drop.
The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing. Spencer's body shook with aftershocks, his knees weak and legs trembling as he tried to catch his breath.
(Y/N) finally pulled her mouth away with a soft pop, a satisfied smile spreading across her face as she licked her lips and looked up at him sweetly, the sight making Spencer's heart race even more.
They were brought back to reality by the sound of a doorbell. (Y/N) shot to her feet and checked the mirror, attempting to straighten her hair by combing her fingers through it, before walking through the door and heading to the front door. As (Y/N) let in their friends Spencer could hear Penelope from the living room as she began laughing and said, "girl whatever you two were doing has left your hair a wreck!"
Spencer and (Y/N) sat at a small table with their giant soft pretzels, Garcia and her friend having wandered off to watch a panel. They both sat at the table, their feet aching slightly from walking around in the convention center. Spencer's pretzel sat forgotten in front of him, all of his focus on his girlfriend sitting across from him. Her face was slightly flushed from the warmth in the convention center, the heat from the crowds easily overpowering the AC running in the building. His eyes roamed from her cheeks to her breasts, straining against the fabric of her dress.
"Spencer?" (Y/N) waved a hand in front of his face, "anybody in there?" She gave another one of her trilling giggles and Spencer felt a small smile spread across his lips involuntarily at the sound. He slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers and his smile turned into a sheepish grin at the loving yet exasperated look she was giving him.
"Sorry, heh," Spencer chuckled nervously as his face burned with embarrassment at being caught blatantly ogling her chest in public.
She muttered as she shook her head. It took Spencer a second to realize why he couldn't figure it out until he asked her to repeat herself. "I said, 'men at conventions are all the same,' you silly, silly man," she smirked at him. His eyes went wide as she spoke Vulcan as fluently as any other language, and his heart skipped a beat. He was sure he'd lose consciousness with how quickly the blood rushed from his brain to his dick.
"Y-you speak Vulcan?" He responded, also speaking Vulcan, trying to hide his growing erection by crossing his legs.
A wicked grin spread across her lips. She took note of his shifting posture and his flushing face as she responded, "is there a problem, doctor? You're flushed and sweating."
"Have you finished your food?" Was his only response as he began gathering up his own trash and standing up. His breathing was slightly uneven and when he finally looked at her and met her eyes, she saw the raw need emanating from them.
Spencer could see her piece together what was going through his head and noticed as her smile took on a nearly feline quality. "Doctor, are you suffering from the Blood Fever?" She crooned as she, too, began gathering up her trash and belongings. Her movements were slow and leisurely, and as she stood she remarked in English that she should probably shoot a text to Garcia that they were headed out for the day. He stood by the table and leaned against it, casually slipping his hands into his pocket so he could adjust himself in his pants to conceal his raging boner.
She moved to stand a couple inches in front of him and looked up at him through her eyelashes and flashed him an innocent glance and a not-so-innocent smile. He throbbed in his pants and she reached for his hand and began leading him towards the exit.
The cab ride back to his apartment had been torture, to say the least. Spencer's cocked throbbed and ached the entire way and (Y/N) did nothing to help the situation, whispering things into his ear in Vulcan that he had never dreamt of anyone ever actually using the language to say while tracing lazy circles on his chest with her fingers.
He all but sprinted up the steps while pulling her by the hand behind him. He fumbled and dropped his keys as he attempted to unlock the door but quickly managed to get the door open and as soon as they were both inside his lips found hers. He kicked the door shut and began guiding her towards his bedroom while his hands found her waist. As they entered the room he tore his lips from hers and took the chance to take her in. Her pupils were blown wide, her lips were swollen and parted slightly, and her cheeks were flushed as she panted lightly.
His lips found hers again as he slowly began to guide her towards the bed, gently laying her down on the bed and crawling on top of her. His hips rested between her open thighs and his cock pressed up against her clothed pussy. He ground himself against her and both of them moaned at the friction.
"What of the Ritual, doctor?" She smirked up at him as he began trailing his kisses from her lips to her chin, then down to her neck. He bit down on a sensitive spot gently before soothing it with his tongue, earning a gasp from (Y/N) as her back arced off the bed.
"Forget the Ritual, I need to take you now," he moaned as he ground against her harder before pulling back to unfasten the button of his pants, followed by the zipper. He pushed his pants and briefs down just far enough to free his cock and hissed as the cool air of his room met with the aching flesh. When he looked back down at (Y/N) he noticed she had taken to opportunity to remove her own underwear and wasted no further time as he pressed himself back into her, groaning at the slickness that awaited him.
He positioned his cock at the entrance to her dripping cunt, nudging up against her gently. She whimpered and bucked her hips up, trying to push him into her. He began slowly pushing into her, inch by throbbing inch, until he was buried all the way into her. They both let out long, drawn out sounds of pure ecstasy. Spencer pulled out a couple inches and then pushed back in as (Y/N) hooked her ankles together behind him, her heels pressing into him. He maintained this pace as he leaned onto one arm, freeing up his other hand to reach in between them and start teasing her clit, pressing feverish kisses into her neck while he gently fucked her.
She moved her hips against his, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she panted and mewled underneath him. "How does it feel, (Y/N)?" He crooned into her ear, his breathing becoming ragged. He sped up his hips, earning a loud moan in response. "Come on, (Y/N), use your words."
"Harder, please," she whimpered, throwing her head back and crying out in pleasure as he obliged. He reared up above her, biting his lip and screwing his eyes shut as he felt himself racing towards his own climax. He opened his eyes right as she reached her hand between them to take over rubbing little circles onto her clit and nearly lost himself in the sight. Her dress was pushed up over her hips, her eyes fluttering back into her head, and her face and neck flushed a deep scarlet. His breathing grew rougher and more ragged and his thrusts became disjointed as he moaned louder and louder.
"Yes, please fill me doctor!" She cried, and Spencer roared in response, throwing his head back and stilling his hips as he came. (Y/N)'s own orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, ripping through her body and making her pull him into her, melting into a single being of tangled limbs and desperate moans.
He panted above her, resting his forehead against her neck as he slowly pulled out of her and collapsed next to her on the bed. He turned to reach for the box of tissues he kept on his nightstand, cleaning himself up and handing allowing (Y/N) to clean herself up as well, before pulling his pants back up and pulling her into him, laying her head against his chest.
"We have to do this again," she giggled sleepily, rubbing lazy circles into his chest with her fingers. He nodded and kissed the top of her head, his eyelids heavy.
"I love you, (Y/N)," he mumbled as sleep finally began to take hold of him.
#spencer x reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid x reader
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đA Scenery of You and Me âŠïž Timeless Pick A Card
People say Divine Counterparts often share parallel experiences in this mortal realm. In what ways are your life events mirroring that of your Destined Personâs?
Oh, the Pile VIBEs of this PAC are all quite poignant songs in their own ways butâŠIâm getting that this is how your Destined Person loves you. So, immensely, soul-crushingly devoted to you that this Love brings tears to those who witness or hear about it.
This is a Love Story filled with scenery of compassion, cosmic connection and faith in each otherâs unwavering loyalty. Quite nothing in this mortal world could hold more beauty than the Love you share with your Destined Person~â„ïž
So bask in this lovely aenergy and give yourself a chance to believe in a Higher Romance~âĄ
SONG: To Be With You by The Honey Trees
MOVIE: PONYO (2008)
deck-bottom: XIX The Sun, Silver Astrologer (John Dee), Priestess of Beauty
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Pile 1 â A Never-ending Story of Love and Sweetness
VIBE: æăźć
ăăăăă« (tsuki no hikari wo tayori ni; By the Light of the Moon) by Plastic Tree
the idea of you â 7 of Cups
There is a very mature aenergy attached to this Pile, so Iâm getting that for the majority of you, this is a Union that comes after a significant spiritual evolution has taken place. Itâs very likely that your Union comes after a certain Saturn Return period for the both of you. A huge age gap is also indicated because thereâs a huge period between a personâs First and Second Saturn Return, right? You could finally be in a Divine Union with your Destined Person after both of you have come out of your own respective Saturn Return phases.
With that configuration in mind, this Union is something that could only occur after the both of you are well over the age of 30. Before that point, you were always looking all round for each other. You both are dreamy, you dreamt of each other, all the time. All your lives, in fact. Thereâs a strong Neptunian/Piscean aenergy as well as 12th House placements here. What youâve always wanted was a Love thatâs pure and cosmicâa sensation most Humans canât even begin to register in their primitive brains.
For the really spiritual ones here, Iâm getting that this couldâve made you single for a very long time! You know thereâs someone Divine whoâs destined to be your Counterpart in this mortal realm. And youâve wanted this person and this person alone even if you didnât know yet who this person is. Youâve just always held on to the faith. But the less spiritual ones here couldâve serial-dated or married multiple partners in this deluded search for The One.
the sight of you â Knight of Pentacles
If you havenât necessarily dreamt of your Destined Person, at least youâve had daydreams of what theyâre supposed to be like. An often hazy idea of how their Love is supposed to make you feel. Youâve felt each other a lot throughout your lives, actually. In fact, this is how youâre manifesting each other, even if it can be painful at times, and takes a goddamn long time. But this is King and Queen aenergy, right? People, strangely enough, need to go through hardships and heartbreaks before they can become truly mature. Spiritually mature in this case.
All of that is deeply necessary for your Union to have any meaning at all. Because King and Queen, their existence is supposed to serve the people. Your Union is so divine it will serve as an example, it will give people hope, and possibly a sense of validation. King and Queen are guides for the people. Thatâs why both of you have got to learn to get your shit together before coming into Union~ Over-privileged King and Queen whoâve never known the sorrow the people go through every day wonât make an endearing power-couple at all! XD
And so it was necessary for you to have graduated at least your First Saturn Return. To have rebuilt your entire sense of self, your entire worldview with just the essence of each otherâs Love! If thereâs a huge age gap between you and your Destined Person, one of you couldâve waited for a damn long time. But, whichever of you have manifested this reading in your Interface of Reality is gonna be the one who travels to the other! Actually, pretty soon! \`â
_â
`/
holding you in my arms â Page of Wands
Whoever is the Feminine aenergy in this connection will make the journey to the Masculine. Like a Queen who makes the journey to arrive at the Kingâs castle. Like Ponyo being the one who makes an effort to arrive in the Human world, as Human, to be with Sosuke. The Feminine works on herself to be an equal companion to the King. This whole journey though, will follow the Natural Order of the Universe, so it will be very pleasant and exciting for the Feminine! <3
On the other hand, the Masculine in this connection will have worked on himself to know what true Love is, and to have worked on his own version of his great empire as a divine offering to the Feminine <3 He works on becoming the most Divine version of himself so as to be worthy of his Queenâs Love and Compassion whilst simultaneously offering her the most spiritual rendition of Love and Prosperity. Yours is a Divine Union of equal counterparts where each brings something of great meaning to the household <3
When you finally hold each other in your arms, you will be healing each other in all of the ways a person could be healed. Itâs true magick, but so natural and seamless. No matter how old or young you are when reading this, provided youâve at least graduated your First Saturn Return, that Love is now wide open for you to access. Keep the faith, itâs happening, Queen! Prepare yourself for each otherâs advent in your physical Reality <3
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the best part â Priestess of Clarity
forever and ever and ever â Priestess of Healing
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Pile 2 â Freedom, Freewill, I Manifest YOU in My Reality! Get ready!
VIBE: æŹæ„ăŻæŽć€©ăȘă (honjitsu wa seiten nari; Today Is Going to be Sunny) by Plastic Tree
the idea of you â 5 of Wands
The peeps attracted to this Pile are most likely the Masculine aenergy whoâs proactively manifesting your Feminine Counterpart. If you resonate with being the Feminine aenergy and youâve chosen this Pile, it could contain information on how youâre being manifested by your Masculine Counterpart ;P
You and your Destined Person have been living quite a chaotic Life. This could be your default normal, but this could also be simply a Tower Moment youâre going through as part of your soulâs evolution. Thereâs this feeling of praying for some kind of magic that would end all of this unsettling feeling deep inside of you.
For some, this unsettling feeling could come from immense boredom. Perhaps from being in a wrong relationship with somebody whoâs not your Destined Person. For some, perhaps thereâs been a lot of conflict and deliberate misunderstandings in a relationship thatâs just not for you. Itâs just tiring. Some of you could simply be feeling a lack of excitement because youâve not been in a committed relationship for far too long and your heart has begun to pine for your The One.
All in all, this is now making you think and daydream about your Ideal Counterpart. Taking into account all that youâve learnt about failed relationships, from your own or observing other peopleâs, youâve begun to somewhat make a list of characteristics of the person youâd like to spend the rest of your Life with.
the sight of you â King of Cups Rx
Well, as they say, visions and daydreams are never too random, right? What if those visions and ideals are there because someone whoâs destined for you is actually sending those signals? ;P Maybe your hearts are somewhat connected and now youâre receiving glimpses of what your Destined Person could be for you in this physical Realm. And if you follow the Light coming from that âlighthouseâ and you uphold your standards, do you think the Universe will forsake that courage to believe?
And as much as youâre thinking of your Ideal Counterpart, what if your Ideal Counterpart is also thinking and daydreaming the same for themselves? And by the natural order of the Law of One, surely itâs just a matter of vibrational matching until you and your Destined Person become One. Vibrational matching takes time, mainly for us to develop well, and if you can maintain the faith in this divine connection, in the blink of an eye Divine Timing will carry you both into Union <3 Pssst, Divine Timing is misunderstood as fuck; itâs a matter of elevated vibrations; not time!
Just know that your kind of connection usually doesnât follow a lot of logic, let alone norms and societal expectations. So now, itâs just you and your imaginations, and whether or not these ideals can come to fruition is a matter of how much you believe youâre deserving of all the good things youâve daydreamed for yourself <3
holding you in my arms â Ace of Cups
So as you can see, if youâve chosen this as your main pile, youâre quite literally in the midst of attracting and simultaneously being attracted by your Destined Person! This is so cute because itâs reminiscent of Disneyâs Sleeping Beauty! The two main characters were literally âordained by the (holy) kingdomâ to be together, but for one reason or another, they got separated and grew up not knowing each other. And stillâŠ
At some point in time, they were magnetised by Destiny, and when they met, it felt like theyâd known each other from a dream. âI know you. I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you. That gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Yet I know itâs true that visions are seldom as they seem. But if I know you, I know what youâll do. Youâll love me at once, the way you did once, upon, a dream.â
Upon rendezvous with your Destined Person, you will immediately fall in love with all that they are and fit each other beautifully. You are each otherâs most ideal types and you will soon recognise that this person is a dream come true youâve long dreamt of and now manifested. You, or them, will say, âTook you a while, but Iâm glad youâre here now~â It will all be very sweet and lovely, and you will know, this was ordained by the Holy <3
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the best part â Priestess of Magick
forever and ever and ever â Priestess of Intuition
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Pile 3 â We Are Too Extraordinary to Live an Ordinary Life
VIBE: ćŹăźæ”·ăŻéæłłçŠæąă§ (fuyu no umi wa yueikinshi de; Swimming in the Winter Sea is Prohibited, SoâŠ) by Plastic Tree
the idea of you â 4 of Wands
OMG, SERIOUSLY?! This Pile literally got ALL of the âhappy marriageâ cards that exist in tarot! XD
You and your Destined Person are destined to âmarryâ one another. Depending on how strange and anti-establishment you are (LOL), âmarriageâ can mean many different things for you. But the essence of a Divine Matrimony is strong with your connection. As such, it can easily translate into what society deems as âtraditional marriageâ.
Even if a âlegal marriageâ isnât exactly your thing, everybody around you will still be able to see that what you have is exactly what a marriage should be! Itâs lovely, respectful, helpful, and justâŠmy god, sweetly holy. You and your Destined Person is the Prototype of what Love in a physical form should translate as. Even as grownups, thereâs something deeply pure in the way you adore one another. Thereâs something covetous in the way you care for one another.
Being with your Destined Person is a true homecoming to your own Soul. Being with each other feels like the most natural thing to have happened in the world. Everything is right in the world when youâre in the embrace of your Destined Personâs and vice versa. Your Destined Person will bring a change of scenery in your everyday Life, in a big way, and then offer a new sense of community with their people <3
the sight of you â 6 of Pentacles
You will love your Destined Personâs people so much because theyâre such good people. In many deeply layered ways, many of their friends and relatives are also part of your Soul Family, so it feels natural that they, too, feel a familiar feeling with you. Everything that your Destined Person has is yours. This will not be given to you out of duty; everything will be offered you out of pure Love.
Your Destined Person is the type that will even invent something just to make your world a better one to live in. For one though, your Destined Person is wealthy and has a high status in society. At minimum, they have a super fruitful work filled with meaning, which ensures their incredible reputation and stream of income. This is somebody whoâs regarded very highly by their peers and community, and when you are brought together by the divine order of the holy, they will make you an important part of the throne they sit upon.
With your Destined Person, you will not walk behind them the way Kate walks behind Prince William (blegh). You will sit on your Destined Personâs lap on their throneâthatâs how much they value you! If they happen to be the Masculine and youâre the Feminine, this devotion and immense level of respect for you will not diminish their Light at all; it will only serve to set an example, of how a true King treats his Queen, whom he respects and loves very dearly~â„ïž
holding you in my arms â King of Pentacles & 10 of Cups
Yâall know I hardly ever take 2 cards for a segment because Iâm mathematical (LOL) buuut for some reason this one wanted me to take a peek, and peek I did and I was delighted~â
Your Destined Person is truly the embodiment of a King aenergy, whatever their gender may be. This is perhaps a person who beats to their own drums and defies logical expectations. Theyâre weird, to be honest, the good kind of rebellious weird. Because the world is crazy and full of losers anyway, your Destined Personâs weird is exactly what makes them the SANEST in this world of lunatics.
This is a person who, in spite of appearing whacko to the world, actually possesses values that are rather âtraditionalâ, in the sense that they align themselves with the aenergetic Yin and Yang of the Cosmos. If they assume the male role, you bet they take their maleness very seriously and will do everything in their power to provide an amazing household for you. They help around the house because thatâs whatâs sensible, too. They are a responsible one! If they happen to be ULTRA WEALTHY, theyâre the type to hire bodyguards and/or assistants for you at home and work.
And for sure, this is the Pile thatâs blessed with children. If for whatever reason an actual child isnât possible for you, this is saying that you and your Destined Person are going to birth a new paradigm. Perhaps you will build, invent, create something in your name, which then becomes your legacy. Leaving a legacy is a huge part of your Divine Union because, you both are too extraordinary to die as ordinary people. Long after youâre gone, youâre still going to be remembered as an example of what Love could be in this Human realm~âŠïž
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the best part â Priestess of Ritual
forever and ever and ever â Priestess of Luxury
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#Punk Panda Pick A Pic#pick a card#pick a card reading#tarot pick a card#pac#pac reading#tarot pac#future spouse#future spouse reading#tarot future spouse#witchythings#witchcore#witchblr#tarotblr#astroblr#fairytale#fairy tale#soulmate#divine union#divine counterpart
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I haven't seen anyone point it out on Tumblr yet, so I wanted to share something I caught during my first viewing of "Dot and Bubble" that, while it didn't make me totally see the ending reveal coming, it DID give me a major hint that Finetime's origins were more sinister than the episode had previously been letting on.
(Upon further Googling, there are a few online articles that explain what I noticed, but I don't know how many Tumblr users have thought to look into it in the past 24+ hours.)
When Ricky September is talking to Lindy about their history, he mentions something called "the Great Abrogation," which sealed their city off. While he doesn't give details, the word was specific enough that I felt compelled to Google it right away. That's how I learned that to abrogate meant to end, abolish, or repeal things, especially when applied to laws or rights.
When a word THAT specific is used for a historical event, especially when it concerns the formation of a city or population, that means it was chosen for a reason. For the rest of the episode, I kept wondering: just what law was repealed to form this place? What right? True, in the case of laws, sometimes legislation needs to be abolished, especially the kind that restricts human rights and supports cruelty and suffering. But the fact that abrogation could also refer to the ending of rights... it convinced me that whatever this Great Abrogation was referring to, it wasn't for any good purpose.
And while we never got a direct answer as to what the Great Abrogation repealed, I think we have a good guess as to what it could be.
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A Dichotomy of Thought || 5
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
Johnny recovers slowly.
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Fifteen minutes? Simon messages you. A flare going up in the darkness, an SOS signal even if you donât know the accuracy of the analogy. But he doesnât hear back from you that day. Maybe what little luck he had left that wasnât bad luck has run out. Maybe you realized that you had no real reason to be guilty, that Soap had stepped out in front of your car on purpose. You didnât owe them anything.Â
Simon wishes he could swallow that flare back up, eat it whole, let it burn him alive, but he canât. Johnny needs him.Â
Ever since the seizure, itâs been one bad pain day after another. The seizure itself was rough on his body, but so was how hard Soap fought afterwards, dealing himself damage that he didnât even have the processing yet to tally up.Â
Like clockwork heâs requiring those little green pills, choking them down on empty stomachs. Simon even has to break out whatâs left of the sublingual morphine which they hadnât used since Johnny first came home from inpatient rehabilitation. Only then will Johnny manage to fall into fitful sleeps wracked with nightmares and phantom pains from his missing arm. He cancels all therapy that week, hoping Johnny will return to his baseline soon. Hoping for the days he used to wish away.Â
Itâs hell on earth. Simon lays in bed beside him, ready to wake him from another nightmare, going on three days without sleep and he wishes that he had been the one in the helicopter instead. Wishes that it had killed him, since he canât ever wish death on Johnny. Not ever. Not even when his boy begs for it.Â
His phone buzzes, and itâs you: Iâm free in twenty. Still need me?
Badly. Simon canât remember the last time he showered. All he wants is fifteen minutes to scrub himself clean and feel human again. All he says though is: Yeah.
You appear just past twenty minutes later wearing a diner uniform. Itâs cute: tight pants that hug your thighs and hips, a white button-down blouse tucked in, demarcation where your name tag used to rest.
Simon opens the door and ushers you in, somber-faced, like a pallbearer at a funeral. He goes to the bedroom door and glances in to make sure Johnny is outâthere should be no waking him for the next two hours, but if there is one thing Simon has learned, itâs that God Laughs.Â
âHe asleep?â you whisper, lingering a healthy distance away.Â
âOut like a light. I just need fifteen minutes in the shower.â
âIâll watch him,â you whisper. Then you add: âI looked it up, by the way. What a seizure looks like. Just in case.â
Simonâs stomach drops between his knees. It takes him several heartbeats to realize that he isnât nauseous out of any fear response, but out of sheer fucking gratitude. The feeling cuts through the fog in his mind like a knife through butter, and he feels like he sees you for the first time: your hair back away from your face, your healing bruises (and the new one on your chin), the embarrassed desperation in your eyes. Youâve latched on to Johnny too, he can tell, likely by some misguided guilt from almost hitting him with your car. But itâs there. He has a feeling that if Johnny were to take a dive off the balcony, heâd be taking you with him.Â
You are completely unhinged. Borderline mad, even. Exactly what Johnny needs to keep him alive.Â
âFifteen minutes,â says Simon again before slipping into the bathroom, clean clothes tucked under his arm. When he resurfaces, only 11 minutes have passed. The military taught him everything he could need to know about thorough but expeditious showers.Â
You are sitting at the dining table, having chosen the seat that gives you the best vantage point of Johnnyâs sleeping figure in the next room through the doorway. Simon expected to find you on your phone, scrolling away, but it is nowhere in sight. You have sat perfectly still, watching Johnny. It would almost be eerie if he didnât appreciate it so goddamn much.Â
âWe need to talk about this arrangement,â you say, clasping your hands together. Youâre shaking.Â
âYou want out.âÂ
âWhat? No!â You both glance toward the bedroom, but Johnny snores on, in the throes of morphine-fueled dreams. When you speak again, it is quieter: âI donât mind helping, but I can only check my phone at certain times of the day.â
This is the part where Simon asks why. But the question sticks to the back of his tongue like something unsavory. A more important question: can he afford to care why beyond what it means for him and for Johnny? The bottom line is that there will be long stretches of time where youâre unavailable. He can live with that. Heâs been living with it, hasnât he?Â
âIâll only ever need you when heâs asleep. If he knew I was letting you watch over him, heâd blow his top. I mean that literally.â Simon stands. âYou want tea?â
âTea?â You blink at him like the word does not compute. âYes, please. Thank you, I mean.âÂ
âJust tea, donât get worked up over it,â he mutters, going to put the kettle on. He needs a minute to fucking think.Â
This goes against everything he was ever taught. The foundation of his personality is self-reliance, and it has been since he was a boy, since he learned that he couldnât rely on adults for anything resembling stability. Asking for help feels like tossing up the white flag, like admitting heâs in too deep and he canât take it anymore. It feels like failing Johnny.Â
But thereâs construction going on inside him. Those pillars of his personality are being torn down, and in their place something more important is being formed: a shrine to the only person whoâs ever loved him that wasnât his mother. If itâs good for Johnny, Simon must do it, even if it feels strange, even if it goes against all the strategies that have kept him alive in the past.Â
When he brings tea back to the table, you try to drink it right away, scalding your tongue.Â
âSlow,â Simon says. He didnât even get the chance to offer you any milk or sugar.Â
Face warm as the tea, you drink slower, tongue likely numb. The silence between you grows, adds up, and he catches you more than once looking toward the digital clock inlaid on the stove, like you are nervous and counting down the moments until you can escape. Like Simon frightens you. Fifteen minutes pass and more. You drain your cup.Â
âI should go,â you say at length.
âAlright.â
âThank you for the tea.âÂ
âDonât thank me.â
You just nod and slip out of the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind you. Simon sits there for a long time after youâre gone, thinking over the arrangement. Thinking over you.Â
Youâre in trouble. He just canât decide if he can afford to take on any more trouble right now.Â
His tea has cooled by the time Johnny stirs in the other room, calling out for more pills.Â
-
It does get easier. Tooth and nail they fight for every peaceful moment until they are able to string two of those moments together, and then two becomes three. Johnny is back to his old selfâoften angry, still pained, but with glimmers of the man Simon used to know shining beneath it all like diamonds under dirt.Â
Therapy starts again, and so do Johnnyâs tasks.Â
The tasks arenât therapy. Theyâre Johnnyâs idea: each few days he picks a task that he used to be able to do before the accident and commits himself to relearning it.Â
Today that tasks is unlocking the front door. He stands with his forehead against the oak, knowing Simon is somewhere on the other side, having heard him turn the deadbolt.Â
The door has three locks. There is the handle which is the only one the apartment building originally supplied them with. There is the sliding lock, which Simon had installed on day two in the new apartment. It is only ever locked at night when both of them are home, and it is easy enough for Johnny to guide the wide end into the slot. Then there is the deadbolt, also installed by Simon, and easily the trickiest lock of all. Usually it requires the strength of two hands to unlock comfortablyâbut Soapâs down a hand and short on patience.Â
âJesus, get me in this apartment. Amen,â he mutters.
The key shakes in his hand as he guides it to the lock. It takes some fumbling, but he gets it after just a few moments. Then he must twist while pulling outward at the same time. It uses muscles in his arms that have grown weak with disuse. The key catches for a moment but then slides out of the lock uselessly. He pulled too hard; he did not twist hard enough.Â
Itâs a delicate balance, one he had perfected without even trying months ago when they moved in. Now it seems like a cruel and unusual punishment. If he canât get this fucking door open, heâll sleep out here, undeserving of his own bed. In his mind, the voice of encouragement does not sound so much like the calm soothing tones of Andyâhis physical rehabilitation therapistâbut instead the borderline abusive dialect of his superiors during his time in the military, the ones who had only ever cared about results and not much about the bodies getting those results.Â
Footsteps come from the open elevator, and Johnny casts an irritated glance only to see that it is you. You are dressed for exercise, clingy clothes with running shoes and a baggy top thrown on over everything, drooping off of one of your shoulders. At the sight of you, Johnny remembers the lengths you went to to help him light his cigarette and his heart throbs with fondness, some of his anger evaporating like fog burnt off by the morning sun.Â
âAfternoon, lass.âÂ
âHi, Johnny,â you murmur, voice near a whisper as you cast a glance toward your own door. Maybe you are thinking about running from him. âAre you having trouble?âÂ
Johnnyâs good mood dissipates. âNo,â he lies. âYes. I donât fucking know.âÂ
âCan I help?â
âNo,â he snaps. âI have to do this myself.â
âWhereâs Simon?âÂ
âInside.âÂ
âHeâs locked you out?â
âAye.âÂ
Your face changes. He knows you so little that it takes a moment for him to identify the expression for what it is: apoplectic rage. Your hands have clenched into fists at your sides, brows drawn low over your eyes as you glare a hole through the door. You reach out and take Johnnyâs hand. Heâs so fucking surprised that he drops the damn key.Â
âJohnny,â you say. âYou can tell me. Are you in trouble?â
âWhat sort oâ trouble?âÂ
âSimon. Is he good to you?âÂ
âBastard eats my cereal and leaves the empty box behind, but aye, heâs good to me. Better than good. Whatâs all this about, hen? Simon locking me out? I only asked him to, thatâs allâletâs me practice with the key, so I can open it on my own again,â says Johnny, stroking his thumb along your knuckles.Â
You let go of him like youâve been burned, face mortified. âOh, God. Iâm sorry Johnny. I misunderstood. Let me justââ
You bend down and retrieve the key, handing it to him. You can barely look him in the eye as you mumble a goodbye and rush past him into your own apartment, shutting the door solidly behind you.Â
Johnny stares after you for a long moment, key held limply in his hand, mind far from the door. At last, he puts the key back into the lock.Â
Twist, pull.Â
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Back again with yet another idea -đ„€
So this could be with any of the beans but I was thinking that the reader got caught by some bad bloods or human and experimented on. One of those being something that slowly transforms them into a yautja. The reader might try to hide this from their mate (like the scales slowly appearing, how sensitive your senses are becoming) but the reader canât hide much from an experienced yautja
The Wrong Secret to Hold
Pairings: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader
Warnings: mentions of self harm (needing to rip off skin) (?)
Word Count: 2334
Summary: Ahtaal may no be an enforcer but when he found out you were stolen right off of his ship, he became one. Just for that reason. He tracked you down through the stars until he was able to pinpoint your location. From there, he tore apart the bad bloods who stole you. But it was already too late. The bad bloods had already planted a seed.
Author Note: I love the fact you called them beans! I'm going to refer to them like that for now on. It's always great to see from you Cup Anon!
Masterlist
Ao3
Three weeks has passed since Athaal saved you from a cunning duo of Bad Bloods. He may not be an enforcer but he took upon himself to kill them after they kidnapped you. Right from the safety of his spacecraft. A mistake he has since learned from, increasing the security of the shipâs systems. He had almost lost you, his mate.
After he retrieved you, gaining the two skulls of those who wronged you. Both of them hang nicely above your shared bed. A bed you were curled up in, even after being awake for at least three hours. Three hours of rest you desperately needed. In the end, they were lost.
The nest like bed built into the floor was usually comfort, perfect to curl up in and nap. Everything was too much. The room was too cold. The air too dry. The blankets too scratchy. Then, there was the noise of the engines. They caused a raging headache to pound in your skull, driving away every rational thought in your mind.
Everything was too much.
This had progressed ever since Ahtaal saved you from those Bad Bloods. Your memory of your time with them was foggy, blurry of what they might have done to you. It wasnât long they held you but they had changed something in you. You blamed it on the trauma they had put you through, part of the reason why you couldnât recall what happened to you.
Athaal saw an uptick in your heartbeats. Not by much, only ten on average, but called it normal. Fear of a prey animal only reacting. That was that.
Then, the oversensitivity began to grow. Even the clothes Athaal had stolen for you from earth were too much to put on. Yet, your mind warred on the fact being naked was bad or being driving into insanity when you could feel your own skin. You had to reframe yourself from scratching your skin off every time you breathed.
All the blankets had been pushed of out the massive concave bed. They had been touching you, grazing your skin. The feel of them made you want crawl out of your own body and throw yourself into a pit of lava.
As this progressed as well, you refrained from telling Athaal. Heâs been stressed since youâve been napped right from underneath his mandibles. Heâs been working hard on the ship, ensuring the same thing never happens to you again. Plus, with the killing, he also had to make a case against his clanâs court about the legal execution of the Bad Bloods. Not that the seem to disagree but it all revolve around the honor code. To keep the balances and checks in their strict system.
The last thing that Athaal needed added to his plate was whatever was affecting you. It would pass. It was just trauma. Your scenes overworking to keep you safe after such an attack.
Until you wondered into the bathroom to relieve yourself only to find⊠scales?! Your hands grasped the porcelain sink, heart beating at a thousand miles per second. You felt lightheaded, legs ready to give out at any moment. There were scales starting to grow on your chest.
Your fingertips gingerly touched the rough patches and winced since they were sensitive too. Tears burned your eyes, right on the edge of falling. Why was this happening to you? What was happening to you?! Thereâs no scientific reason for something like this to occur. You didnât know of any disease in the universe that could cause this to appear.
What strength you had left, you stumbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it. The softness of the bed irritated your skin and made it feel like hot pokers were digging into where the cushion touched you. With an annoyed growl, you climbed back out and laid on your back.
The floor was unforgiving, cool to the touch. Yet, it was an improvement to the bed that made you want to desperately claw at your own skin. You huffed and curled up into a ball, hands covering your head as if protecting you from an attack. Your scenes were still on fire, driving you up the nearest wall. But, the energy to move was gone. Then, you were asleep. A fitful, restless sleep.
Raging hungry stirred you from your wasteful nap. A growl sounded from the back of your throat, sounding deep and dangerous. You stretched out only to bump into something warm. You froze. Then, slowly, you creeped your gaze over your shoulder to find the red form of Ahtaal sleeping at your back, chest facing you. Fear creeped into your heart, pumping into your veins. The lump in your throat was swallowed down thought. He wasnât awake.
One of his arms was draped over your torso and kept you securely pressed against his body. At any other time, you wouldâve enjoyed this soft moment with him. His loving embrace. But his heat, the texture of the scales on his chest. It was overwhelming.
Despite the love for him telling you to endure this discomfort, you grasped his wrist and held it up. It weighed a lot due to the muscles that cord it. But, you were able to roll out from underneath him. You climbed out of the bed then stopped and turned to look down at him for a fleeting moment. He was still, breathing normal, eyes closed. He hadnât woken up.
A soft sigh of relief left you. You about faced again and snuck away towards the kitchen. Anything to quell this pang of hunger that curled and boiled deep inside of you. In all of your years, youâve never felt like before. Even if you hadnât ate the day before, and you had.
The open kitchen was dark as you worked inside of it, not needing light on to see. You worked diligently. Two bowls of fruits and a plate of dried meat was your preparing meal. Even that seemed not to be enough for you in the sight of your eyes.
Unease crawled up your spine. Instinct roared its head. A growl rumbled from the depths of your chest as you leaned over your prepare food, eyes darting out to the open space. Your teeth bared.
Ahtaal stood in the doorway of the kitchen, posture lax but eyes watchful. Your growl lessened until he took a step towards you. One of your hands slammed down on the counter. Part of the warnings that ranged from you not to step an inch closer. This was your food. No one would take it from you.
Through the darkness of the ship, you saw the way his head jerked back and he didnât move any closer. The whisper of your name rolled off of his forked tongue. Questioning. Your piercing gaze refused to move away from the threat that could take away your nourishment. Food you were desperate to consume but not with him there. Eating would be an opportunity for attack.
His dark form stepped back and eased the pressure his presence seemed to caused to you. Your growled lightened slightly but your eyes didnât wander. They were pinned strictly on him. His brows furrowed before he slowly knelt down. Anything to appear he wasnât a threat to you, his mate. Submissive as the position seemed, he did it for you.
Your name fell from his tongue again. Thatâs when your scenes, this primal instinct started to clear. You shook your head, eyes flickering down to the floor. All of your thoughts scrambled as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.
One of your hands covered your mouth. What was that? Terror overtook every emotion inside of you. Your gaze met his again but as the prey you were. The exit was blocked by his kneeling body. Your heart pounded like a bird desperate for escape. You back away from him and the food, back meeting the wall opposite to him.
âLittle one?â he softly called out to you.
Those Bad Bloods. They had done something terrible to you. There was something terrible wrong with you now. Your terrified gaze met his again. Then, you bolted.
Strong arms ensnared around your torso before you could escape. Heat pressed against your back. Your nails raked down thick scales, failing to cause any damage. Your legs kicked and hits his thighs and stomach but did nothing to deter him. Ahtaal traps your back to his chest and stand. Now, you were up in the air as he pinned you to him.
The restless sleep and everyday waking up more tired than the day before caught up to you. The adrenaline couldnât keep up. You slowly go limp in his hold, chest heaving for breaths.
Ahtaal sets you back down on the ground and spins you around to face him. Those dark eyes of his are scanning every inch of your face and body. They narrowed down on your eyes. His hand pinched your jaw and dragged your head up. âYour eyes⊠theyâre lightly glowing,â he grounded out. You felt his claws digging into the flesh of your cheeks for a moment.
His gaze continued until it notices the rough patch on your chest. The red giant pushes you back until your shoulder blades touched a wall. A hand softly encircling your throat to keep you pinned. He leaned down. His free hand running over the textured skin. You hissed and squirmed in his hold. âStop, that hurts,â you whined, voice grumbler than usual.
Next, he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. You felt his tongue rung across the skin there. Ahtaal tensed and growled shortly.
âYou smell like a Yautja.â Instantly, you thought he was thinking you were somehow cheating on him or the Bad Bloods scent still lingered on your skin. He pulled back to look you in the eye again. âBut itâs your scent.â The words were softly spoken, as if in disbelief.
The hand trapping your neck drifted up to cup your cheek. âWhat did they do to you?â he snarled but the anger was directed at the two who stole you from him. The question was meant mainly for himself but opened for you to answer.
You swallowed hard, chest still heaving to calm your racing heart. âI-I donât know,â you cried, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. âSomethingâs wrong with me. Everythingâs too loud. Everythingâs too much. The air is too dry. Itâs cold. My skin⊠I can feel everything!â Even his hand touching you was starting to drive you insane. The texture was rough against your sensitive skin.
Everything went still. But you could easily hear the engines rumbling, his heart pounding. You could smell his concern, his confusion, his anger. You could read him the same way he could read you.
His furrow deepened before his hand softly left your cheek. It was instant relief. Less contact. Less touch. Less everything.
âI keep the ship colder for you. I lessen the humidity for you,â he muttered and returned to his full height, gaze blank. He was working overtime in his mind. The gears spinning quickly to come up with a solution. You stood leaning against the wall, fingers twitching with the need to rip your own skin off again. âAnd⊠you can see in the dark, canâtcha?â Your weak sigh answered him, eyes closing to block out everything.
He took a couple of steps back and shakes his head, trying to deny this. Internally, he was attempting to put the pieces together. To figure out what they have done to his mate. Yet, none of it made sense. The site he found you at⊠those Bad Bloods, they- his mind stopped there. Pausing as the realization dawned upon his form. Experimented. On you. His mate. They had injected something into you to change you from his perfect mate.
A deafening growled tumbled from his chest. Your hands slammed over your ears at the sound. A pained cry leaving your chapped lips. He stopped immediately and even flinched himself. Pauk.
Instantly, his first mission was to find a way to fix this. To fix you. To save you. To help you. A firm, stern gaze passed over his features. He reached out and tilted your head back. Your eyes sliding open to find the dark gaze of your mate on you. âI will find a way to help you. I will scour this entire universe for a cure,â he grounded out, voice low to help ease the pain it may cause to you.
The Yautja was beyond pissed. He wished to go back when he slaughtered those two Bad Bloods and made their death even longer. For all the pain they have caused you thatâs currently injuring you. His mandibles clicked against one another in a harsh way.
You believed him. You knew he would. Heâs been through thick and thin with you. You are his as much as he is yours. The corresponding marks etched into the backs of your shoulders was physical proof enough. He grunted with a nod then glanced over at forgotten food. âIt seems like you have a Yautja appetite,â he stated and pulled away from you. You dipped your head and also gazed at the dishes.
âCome,â he called and strolled over to the plates. Ahtaal picked up all three skillfully and brought them over to the table. âEat. Eat everything you desire. It will take you time to grow accustom to this new side of you. But I will help you in every step of the way.â If it didnât hurt, you wouldâve hugged and kiss the alien to death.
Slowly, you moved over and gingerly sat down in a seat he designed for your smaller statue. Until your hunger was satisfied, he fed you whatever you wanted and needed. In that moment, you knew you could never want or need anyone else besides him.
#yautja#predator#yautja x reader#yautja x you#alien vs predator#predator x reader#yautja x human#predator x you#predator x human#x reader#Ahtaal
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Lost Part 1 | Cassian
SUMMARY: You were the princess of the Spring Court. But you no longer wanted to follow behind your brother. When Feyre decides to leave, she takes you and Lucien. But with the discovery of your mate and a war on its way you start to feel so lost.
PAIRINGS: Cassian x Tamlin!Sister!Reader
CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, mfw, part 1, I might have missed something but I don't think this really has a lot of warning in this part. Enjoy!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I ended up turning this into a few parts. There are a few points I want to touch and I don't think it would've been a good idea to do one whole part. If you wish to be added to the tag list for this please let me know down in the comments. The sumary will most likely stay the same I'm not sure yet.
WORD COUNT: 2.0K
It felt like forever. The torture you faced under your botherâs ruleing. It wasnât protection as he liked to call it. It was a prison, Tamlin had taken over after your father had been killed. You hadnât been able to shed a tear when it happened, you always assumed that you werenât meant to be in the Spring Court. When Feyre arrived as a human, you knew she was your chance for an escape.
So when she took the opportune moment to leave, you followed right behind her. Currently you didnât understand how you had found yourself in this situation. You, Feyre, and Lucien had been on the run from the Spring Court. Little cuts littered your chest, arms, neck, and face. It was so cold, you didnât know if you could hold on any longer. One of Lucienâs brothers was on top of you, holding you against the ice.
He lifts your head up and slams it down into the ice hard. Stars are dancing around your eyes, as you struggle to keep the blade from going into your throat. Your hand was on the blade, blood dripping onto your neck. A whimper escaped your lips as he stared down at you with a malevolent smile.
âYou make such pretty sounds, I wonder what else I could get out of you.â He whispered, his tongue licking up the side of your chin all the way to your pointed ear.
You tried to push the male of you but it was no use. He was far stronger than you, and right now you were too weak. You couldnât access your power considering you were drained. There were plants all around you even in the Winter Court but that was the last thing on your mind. It also didnât help that you had never learned to fight. Tamlin had thought it was best you learn how to be a housemaid, how to be a mother, how to take care of your future husband.
Whatever the case may be you learned everything except how to fight and how to use your powers in a situation like this, it was biting you in the ass. Where Tamlin could shape-shift, you could manipulate the plants around you. But your brother didnât know that, you knew better than to tell him your secret. Just before he could do further damage to you another male flew into him knocking him to the ice.
You turned to your side, a wince leaving your lips as you watched that same male throw a punch into his face. He continued to do so, he hadnât been able to stop until someone had pulled him off Lucienâs brother. He wasnât dead, you knew that he was knocked out cold. Your breath was shallow, as the male turned towards you red siphons glistening in the darkness of the night. He was leaning over you, hazel eyes searching you.
He gently picked you up, resting your head to his chest while he cradled the rest of your body. You stared up at him, when he looked back down at you, it snapped. Just before you closed your eyes you felt the gold thread tied around your heart. The mating bond had snapped, you were tied to the male that had just saved you. Now that you were safe you could close your eyes and thatâs exactly what you did.
âŸ
Rhysand stood next to his brother as Madja worked on you. Cassian had his arms crossed over his chest, he was leaning against the door. The male was trying his hardest not to hover over Madja while she worked on his mate. But it was excruciating not to be next to you to hold your hand while she healed you.
âAre you positive?â Rhysand asked again, finally looking over at his brother. Feyre was at the end of the hallway, with Azriel as well. Lucien was also there but Cassian didnât care much for him, his brother was responsible for the injuries to his mate. He wanted to kill him so they were standing guard in front of Lucien.
âYes. The Princess of the Spring Court is my mate. I know she felt it too.â Cassian explained again, saying the same thing heâd consistently said when they had arrived back home. Cassian paused, staring briefly at his brother. âDo you really think she has powers?â
âFeyre believed it, and I know what I saw when we were under the mountain. Tamlin didnât see it but Amarantha did. She protected herself in a cocoon of vines. Whatever she can do, sheâs more powerful than she believes herself to be.â
Cassian had heard mentions of the story about how youâd protected yourself to avoid the affliction of pain at the wrath of Amarantha. She loved your older brother, but she hated you. So sheâd made your torture just as cruel and wicked as Feyre had gone through. She even locked you up with Feyre, keeping you distanced from the only family youâd ever known. Tamlin. Lucien.
Rhys had told Cass that he had done everything in his power to keep you safe. But when that happened, everything changed. He knew eventually youâd be in his court. Tamlin would destroy you, and it looks like heâd already done just that. Finally Rhys looked back at Cassian again.
âWe need to keep her safe.â
âSheâs my mate, I wonât let her go back to that bastard of a brother. Sheâs safe here.â Cassian stated calmly. He caught Rhys looking down the hall to Feyre who gave a nod.
âThen you both need to accept the bond officially, Tamlin will demand her back. And if it isnât accepted we have no choice but to hand her back over.â
âIâll discuss it with her when sheâs awake. Until then I canât do much.â
Rhys gave a nod of his head as Madja walked up to them. âShe is healed, though she might be out for a few days. Everything was drained, powers included. She needs time to rest.â Madja explained.
âThank you.â Cassian said, stepping past the healer and walking into the room. He grabbed a chair and set it next to your bed. Then he reached for your hand, holding it in his. Cassian would wait days for you to wake up, as long as you came back to him.
âŸ
You held onto that thread when you thought you might die. Slowly you blinked open your eyes, a groan escaped your lips. You looked around the room noticing that you werenât in the Spring Court. Then the memories of what had happened came flashing back into your mind. Panic started to rush through your body, however a hand gave you a comforting squeeze. You turned your head to see the male that had saved you holding onto it.
Just like you remembered he had red siphons on his body. Seven of them to be exact. His black hair was shoulder length, some of it was tied back in a small bun. He looked sexy with his hair that way. A smirk covered his lips, he must have seen what you were thinking was plastered on your face. His golden-brown skin made him look just as handsome. You could see some tattoos peaking through his shirt.
It was a gray shirt and was fitted perfectly to his upper body. You wondered what everything looked like underneath his clothes. Your mind started to drift, thinking of what heâd feel like against you, naked. His pulling of the chair brought you out of your thoughts, you decided to pull yourself up slightly so you could lean against the headboard. You felt the golden string that connected you to him. It was such a pain to not be closer to him. You needed him closer.
âCan you hold me?â Your voice was soft as you asked the question. He stared at you, the confusion was there only for a moment before it switched to understanding. You watched as the male stood from the chair, removed his boats and climbed into your bed. He leaned you forward gently, sitting behind you.
When he settled down into the bed, he pulled you towards his chest. You had noticed that somewhere in between him joining you on the bed he'd taken off his shirt so you could feel his warmth. You rested your head back on his chest, and closed your eyes feeling the bond shine brightly at the touch.
âIâm Cassian.â He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence.
âY/N.â You paused, pulling his large hand into yours and entangling your fingers together. You didnât understand how youâd gotten so lucky to be blessed with a mate provided by the Mother. âSo you really are my mate?â
You questioned finally. Maybe this was all a dream, and youâd wake back up in the Spring Court. You didnât want that though, youâd known you had finally gotten away from your brother's temper and you couldnât go back to it. Things had gotten worse for you when youâd all returned from under the mountain.
âI am.â Cassianâs words were so comforting as he said them.
âI didnât think Iâd ever get a mate. I⊠Tam said Iâd never experience this. That Iâd be marrying off to someone who would never be my mate.â You felt your mate tighten his grip around your waist, his jealousy was evident but you didnât mind it. Oddly enough it felt comforting, youâd been missing something like that for a long time.
Cassian clenched his jaw at the mere mention of what your brother had in store for you when the time was right. He nudged his nose into your hair. âI can assure you mate, thatâll never happen. I will not allow your brother to take you away from me.â
âBut Tam, heâll try to get me back. I am the princess of the Spring Court after all. Heâll try to call a meeting, to call for a battle against this court.â The worry was evident in your voice as you spoke the words that Rhys had mentioned a few days ago.
âIf we accept the mating bond, your brother can not do anything about it. We can accept it then see a Priestess.â
You wanted to reject the idea of accepting the bond so quickly, but you knew that was a lie. Cassian was your mate, and you were his. This had to be done, and it had to happen now. A war loomed over your heads because of your brother. Heâd chosen the wrong side and you wouldnât stand by anymore. Not with what you could do.
âLetâs do it.â You spoke finally. âI need a day, and we need somewhere where it can be just the two of us. When we come back weâll see a Priestess.â
âI have a place in mind for privacy.â Cassian said, a smirk on his lips. âI can give you a day as well. But after that youâre mine forever, princess.â You only gave a nod and closed your eyes leaning further into Cassianâs chest. It wasnât until you were finally asleep, breathing evenly that Cassian called to Rhys in his mind.
âHow is she?â It was the first question he had asked when the conversation started.
âSheâs fine.â Cassian paused, he glanced down at his mate. âShe wants to accept the bond.â
âGood. Thatâs excellent news brother. I think we could all use that right now.â
âWeâre gonna head to the cabin for a few days, then weâll see a Priestess when we come back.â
âSounds like a plan. When you both come back weâll discuss what to do in case Tamlin does try to do something. I want to help her learn her powers if sheâll let me.â
âI think sheâd be more than willing to learn. I think it would be great to start training with her as well even if we donât get far into it.â
âGood idea, brother. Both of you get some rest. Iâll let Feyre know sheâs doing better.â
With those words Cassian felt his High Lord leave his mind. When Cassian looked back down at you he noticed that you were asleep. The fae lights in the room dimmed down allowing only the moonlight into the room. Cassian held onto you tightly as you slept on top of his form. This wasnât the best of circumstances, how he found you. But he was so glad that heâd found you when you needed him most.
#cassian#cassian x reader#acotars#cassian x you#reader insert#x reader#tamlin#lucien#feyre#rhysand#mates#azriel
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Food for thought for sub Boothill: wireplay!
Mechanic reader who helps with repairs all up inside him and maybe an update has him tingle each time they touch his wires, or graze his ports, or the potential opportunities đ€€
I only did minor researches about cyborgs to have a basic understanding, so most of the things I write down will be purely fiction. Also sorry that it turned out as angst instead of NSFW :(
Feel free to ask for a second part to make up for it
Warning: (a little) angst, we are screwing around
Boothill had hinted at the fact that he canât feel with his mechanical body parts for a while now. For him, who has been like this for so long, one would think he had gotten used to it. Yet that wasnât the case. Were you to ask him if it bothered him, heâd answer no without an ounce of hesitation. This used to be the truth, until he fell for you. In other words, if you were to ask him the same question now, the response would be much more heartbreaking.
To get a simple comparison, it was as if your body didnât belong to you. Despite him technically being able to do anything, it felt as if he couldnât at the same time. Serving as an echo and reminder of his hopelessness prior to gaining this body. It was only a small price to pay considering the sin he committed by being the sole survivor, his path of revenge was fuelled with nothing but pure rage. A second life, filled with endless possibilities, at the loss of his own humanity, not the worst of his sacrifices.
The most regrettable change he had to undergo was the loss of sensation. Everyday, a numbness that wouldnât vanish engulfed him from the bottom to his shoulders, pretty much mirroring his inner emotions. How losing the sense of touch could throw one into a deep abyss of endless emptiness was unimaginable. To think this would have such a huge consequence on his psyche was unpredictable, he believed it wouldnât come this far, since he still could feel from his shoulders up to his head. He was horribly wrong.
Whenever you embraced him, some kind of guilt mixed with adoration would eat away at him. Boothill craved your touch, more than that he wanted to feel your warmth when he hugs you, not just the cold iron. At the same time he wished youâd find someone else. Staying by his side would only bring problems, considering the high bounty on his head. You deserved it, you deserved so much better than this icy, robotic body of his. Sometimes his true thoughts would slip out and heâd accidentally tell you how itâs a pity he canât feel anything. Soon after heâd chuckle and tell you not to worry about it, as well as how heâs grateful for his current life, since heâll be able to carry out revenge this way.
You have long figured out his concerns, and no matter how you showered his body with love and affection, he only seemed to condemn himself more. This wasnât something you could just accept like that, seeing your lover being so down caused you nothing but grief. Especially with the thought in mind that you couldnât help him- no. Thatâs not true. You could if you wanted to, itâs never too late to learn new things. Besides you had a basic understanding of mechanics and things related to it, since it is a part of your work. Even if you had never done something this high-tech, it doesnât mean itâs impossible. Giving it a shot wouldnât hurt no one, right?
After coming to such resolves, it got shaken again by your endless worries. You had no idea where to start, nor how a cyborg works. Besides the IPC is way more knowledgeable about this than you, so whatâs the chance of success? How were you going to achieve that goal anyway? Uncountable amounts of questions flooded your mind, chasing away any traces of confidence you previously had. Thatâs when you reminded yourself as to why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. Itâs all because of him, he wanted to feel, and who were you to refuse his request? Thus began your secret operation, to program a small device that works as a sensory aid. This took you so long that boothill also noticed you hiding something from him, yet he never asked, respecting your wish to keep it a secret.
One day, after you were sure that it was done and hundred precent safe, you mustered enough courage to present the idea to him. Your heart was in your hand while you explained it to him, on what exactly you would have to do as well as what this little piece of metal can do. With trembling hands, you held the small chip. It was only as big as a pingpong ball, yet it took you months to refine it to perfection. Suddenly breathing was like the most difficult task in the world, as well as speaking. Your breath was short and ragged as you stumbled over your words, trying your best to explain the situation. It was hard to believe you were suggesting the idea of doing modifications on your dear boyfriend.
Boothill was initially grinning, wondering what kind of present you got him. When he saw your nervous stutters and the gift in your hand, his expression loosened up a little, thus he was smiling meekly now. Without beating around the bush, he clasped his hand over yours, then said, âmâ mighty fine, yaâ do what yaâ want, no need to force it, aight?â His hand was cold like always, in contrary to you he didnât quiver, simply because he couldnât. Even so you knew this was very shocking to him, you noticed by the indescribable look on his face. There was his usual cheerful air, brave smirk and reassuring yet chaotic vibe. Though a hint of bitterness was hidden behind these layers.
Why? Thatâs what he wondered about. You spend all your free time on this, just for him, because he accidentally pitied it once or twice? Even though he appreciated the thoughts and efforts, he still felt bad. Yet there was something else too, scepticism. If this were to work, would things get better? Doubt, suspicion and most prominently fear engulfed him. What if it just doesnât work? You must be so disappointed if that were the case. Or something might go wrong and he never gets the chance to hold you again, that would be way worse than his current fate. Frankly enough, he is already grateful to have a place to call home again, which is why he doesnât want to be too greedy.
You nodded, then said, âI want to try, okay?â He saw your determination, so he had to reason to refuse you, giving you a smile as he replied, âdonât mess me up too much, darling.â After getting his consent, you made him lie down on the working bench. If he didnât knew any better, it almost felt like you were a doctor. You started with removing his cover, using a cordless screwdriver to get rid of the metal plates on his torso. This way you can access his central parts and inner systems. Operating on a human being was stressing, especially because it was someone dear to you too. It took you a while until you properly understood his body and how everything worked, many wires were placed everywhere, so many that it confused you. There were also artificial bones to help stabilise and protect the wires as well as countless devices, similar to the task of real bones. Some kind of blue liquid was being pumped to his heart, keeping it alive. You found many chips for various purposes, yours in contrary looked like a joke. This was overwhelming at first, but after studying him for a bit, you came to understand most of it.
Behind his pelvis was his oil tank, with the energy conversion device being right next to it. It was connected to every single part of his body, since it was the machine delivering energy through every wire. There were also many other human-like parts; an artificial lung, an oxygen cylinder to store the air needed to keep the brain alive, an artificial stomach which was more like a storage for bullets. The department that you needed the most was behind his chest, where his motor for motion skills are. It was located alongside a few other big systems. If you could somehow connect the control system with your little chip there, then he might be able to turn on or off the sensor at free will. No doubt it was a bold gamble, but you were willing to try.
After hours of endless finger-work, to the point sweat was dripping down your chin, you finally managed to attach the device to the right place. A total of 52 tiny wires were needed to properly connect everything, the last thing you had to do was to reattach his covers. Before moving on to that part, you tapped your self made chip gently, wondering if he would be able to feel anything already. During the entire time you were working and basically experimenting on him, Boothill stayed quiet, not wanting to disrupt you. Though this time, he let out an irritated gasp, âhuh.â It was strange, something wasnât quite right. That means you did manage to make modifications to his body, the question is if itâs a good thing. âBoothill, are you alright?â You asked him immediately, worried that you made things worse. âShucks cutie, mâfine, Iâm not that frail.â Once again he retorted to his usual fun demeanour.
It wasnât a lie, he was fine, but that doesnât mean nothing happened. Though he didnât know how to describe it neither. Somehow it felt like electricity was send to his brain, stimulating his nerves. The sensation he just experienced⊠it was weird yet familiar. Could it be whatever you did worked? Was that bizarre sensation the sense of touch? Itâs been so long, he doesnât know nor remember anymore. âIâm done, can you see if you can turn it on?â You said hesitantly, almost sounding as unsure as him. Boothill looked through his system, and there has indeed been a new feature unlocked. He downloaded it swiftly, a little on edge as he waited. 98%âŠ99%⊠and done. âHow do you feel?â The anticipation in your voice was as clear as day. This was the most intense part of your operation after all, it was if it bore fruition.
âI really donât feel a difference.â He told you honestly, his brows furrowed. It seems he also kind of hoped for it to work, guess his expectations were too high. Your heart sank, all this work for nothing. In an instant, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest. With a disappointed and guilty tone, you spoke, âIâm sorry, I made you go through all that for nothing.â Then you held his iron hand tightly, as if to apologise to him. As soon as your skin made contact with him, his hand twitched and he pulled it back. A dumbfounded look was on your face along with the grief. When you stared at him, totally confused, you noticed his face heat up. âBoothillâŠ?â
âYour handâs warm.â He stated, lips slightly parted which revealed his sharp teeth. âWhat?â You didnât quite catch the meaning behind his words, hence the question. Boothill sit up very abruptly and pointed a finger to his body, âtouch mâ here.â Despite you not understanding the situation, you obliged anyway, tapping his torso with your index finger. âIt worked!â The cyborg stated, blinking a few times in awe. âMy forking goodness, this shirt works.â âYou meanâŠ?â Your own eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. It worked? Your little amateur operation there? âIt worked.â You had to repeat those words that seemed so unfamiliar in your mouth.
The realisation hit you, your hard work payed off and it wasnât unnecessary. In an instand you pulled that man into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him tightly. âHey now, donât squeeze me so suddenly mother-fudger, hahaha.â Boothill laughed, returning your embrace immediately. This feeling was what he subconsciously missed. For the first time in years, he could feel the warmth of another. He can feel it when something is touching him, when you are caressing him so gently.
Even though first and foremost he looks unbothered, only happy about this new function, he was deeply shaken by it. His bottom lip trembled due to the overwhelming emotions swirling around inside him. If he could cry, he would. Partly because heâs so grateful for your deeds, also because feeling so many stimulations when he literally couldnât for years is a bit overwhelming. It wasnât bad though, your hug felt so nice. To think the first thing he gets to feel after being senseless all these years is not anything fighting related, but the soft feeling of your tender embrace. How lucky he was. If he dared to be a little more selfish, then heâd wish this moment could last forever.
#AHHHH IDK IF ITS GOOD T^T#boothill x you#honkai boothill#boothill star rail#boothill honkai star rail#boothill x reader#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#boothill#boothill x y/n
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updated 08/02/24: here is a part 2 to this analysis!
i think one of the most disturbing yet funny things about sebek antis is how they manage to twist a well written narration about internalized racism and the struggles of being a mixed person into something relating to âfascismâ.
( btw there will be SLIGHTTT b7 spoilers in here but i personally think itâs whatever, no big difference to what weâve known in the past nothing shocking. )
as his biggest fan AND as an ethnic person i feel as though you HAVE to be brain dead and/or white to not understand any of this. he doesnât genuinely believe that humans are an inferior race, he has MULTIPLE instances praising human people ( riddle, epel ). and the evidence is in firstly, epelâs school uniform vignette where he praises his apple carving, saying itâs even nice enough to be used as a gift to malleus, and we KNOW how highly he regards him. and not once does he ever say anything like âfor a humanâ, or insult him for âbeing humanâ, he appreciates his skill.
then thereâs riddleâs ceremonial robes vignette, and while he does look down on him, itâs not really even about being human saying, âi would better be served by weight training than riding with a bunch of amateursâ ( in reference that here we see him initially join the equestrian club ). but once riddle proves his skill, sebek is more than willing to respect him highly.
( a small thing from the harveston event that iâve been told of from a friend as well, he also holds high respect and love for marja. initially he wasnât fond of her, but she gave him a squirrel plushie for the plush sled race. because of this heâs basically like, âsheâs the only reason i got this far!!â and praises her. i havenât played the event and this is what my friend says, but i figured to at least include this. )
the most insane part is you donât even have to scour through every single moment he shows up on screen to know this, it even shows in his WIKI that one of his dislikes/pet peeves is âwhining.â to be clear, while admittedly he does make patronizing remarks in regards to humans, itâs never enough to say he has a genuine hatred, and in fact he proves the opposite many times, in both epel and riddleâs case. and, in regards to the personality section, again referencing epel and riddle ( there may be other examples, they just happen to be the ones i found specifically ), he isnât afraid to acknowledge and respect people for their talent or skills, even if they are human.
and if youâre wondering what i mean by it being ethnically related, fae are canonically ( say it with me now canonically, ) considered to be a minority race. being half human half fae is what makes him mixed, equally canonically so. as far as iâm concerned basically everyone in the fandom knows this but the complexity around this part of his character is just SO undermined that people are willing to call him âopenly racistâ ( to others, not his internalized racism ) and a FASCIST. are you serious?
we know already that sebek learned a lot of what he thinks now from his grandfather, ( sebek zigvolt wiki, trivia ) considering malleus and lilia commenting that his temper is a trait he gets from him ( scary monsters event story for malleus ), which of course is likely what garners his dislike towards his human aspect and his father for being human, even considering his father outputting, trailing off when noting he is human, while being prideful in his mother who is a fae ( birthday boy vignette ).
and what do we learn about his grandfather? he was in a war against humans, which makes it obvious enough how he would learn this internalized racism and why he would put down that part of his human identity. remember that fae age differently, this war wasnât even that long ago for them. i think itâs a shame people seem to put so much love into diasomnia but not even recognize its lore thatâs rooted so deep yet at the same time is right in front of our face.
but thatâs all from me folks. willing to dive deeper into my sebek love and analysis if anyone wants it!
#inside kayâs mind#kyupidos#twst#twisted wonderland#sebek#sebek zigvolt#disney#disney twisted wonderland#diasomnia#twst diasomnia#sebek twst#sebek twisted wonderland#sebek zigvolt twisted wonderland#sebek zigvolt twst#book 7#twst book 7#twisted wonderland analysis#twst analysis
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