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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago

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Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids.

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it.

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying”

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements.

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you.

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit.

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin.

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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obliviouscxnt · 1 year ago

Text

Home Azriel x Reader

a/n: forewarning I'm a firm believer in things getting worse before they get better. I hope you enjoy!:)))

synopsis: azriel has to resort to desperate measures in order to ensure your safety

Warnings: SA, depictions of RAPE, angst, violence, minor fluff

5.3k words

pt.1 | pt.2

The feeling was unshakable, those hands grabbing you, forcing you into the darkness. The freezing cold void of absolutely nothing and everything all at once.

It’d been a day since the incident, the bruises and scratches on your body were already healing, getting better by the second.

You hadn’t felt anything since then, no presence in the corner of your mind, no eyes on you, just silence.

You didn’t know why its absence brought you no comfort. Why it made you feel worse. Like your body was trying to warn you about something your mind hadn’t caught up with yet.

However, that was the last thing you wanted to think about as you lay beside Azriel’s form. Listening to his soft heartbeat. Letting the rhythm soothe you into a state of calm.

You were so tired, you just needed a little bit of sleep, to rejuvenate your brain. And if you had any hope of avoiding that nightmare you had to keep it far out of your thoughts. Distract your mind with other things. Conjure a nice dream for yourself. A dream about you and the shadowsinger.

A dream where the two of you could just exist together. With no worries, no foreboding feelings in your hearts, just you and him, and your family, and happiness.

Slowly that disturbed twisting feeling of unease faded away, and you closed your eyes. Ready for sleep to take you away.

Then it rushed you.

Darting out from whatever crevice it had been lurking in. Invading your mind, taking hold of your senses.

It tore apart your dream, cracked open your fabrication, and sent a shockwave through your system. It felt like the magic under your skin flinched.

You gasp, eyes snapping open as you sit up.

You feel Azriel’s hands on your shoulders, then you see his face in front of yours. Hazel eyes darkened with worry.

It had been hiding from you, waiting for you to let your guard down. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to grab you and pull you into its never-ending darkness.

It snapped your dream world in half.

You shiver.

“I don’t know what to do.” You confess to him. “It’s like it has a mind of its own.”

Azriel’s hands grip you tighter and pull you into his chest. His wings cocooning you. “We’ll go see the sisters first thing in the morning. You can give it back to Elaine. Let her deal with it.”

You swallow. Knowing that wasn’t an option. It would destroy her. And in turn, destroy Feyre.

He reads your face. “You think you need to keep it? That because of your abilities you have some obligation to? You don’t. What if your abilities make it worse? At least, with Elaine it can’t take form.”

You don’t voice your thoughts, you can’t fight with him.

You don’t say that it would eat the newly turned Fae alive in her fragile state. Pick away at her mind until there was nothing left. That you at least had a fighting chance against it, even if you hadn’t quite figured that part out yet.

But you don’t need to say anything, not when he could see it all in your eyes. The shadowsinger sighed, so frustrated, so powerless, he wanted to do so much more, wanted to ease your stress, but he didn’t know how other than by being with you. Offering you his support.

It didn’t feel like nearly enough.

He held you the rest of the night.

*****

You’d abandoned sleep. Until you could find a way to counter this thing, to keep it caged, you would stay awake.

You were very experienced in nightmares, probably the most experienced. You could manifest the perfect nightmare for any person, reduce the finest warrior into a sniveling coward at your feet. But you’d never taken somebody's nightmare before. Never had to hide from someone else’s fears.

Even if you wanted to give it back to Elaine, you wouldn’t know the first thing to do. It was very different than twisting someone’s fears.

So for the past week, you’d been doing research. Re-reading those books from Helion, scouring the library for anything else that mentioned dreams, nightmares, or the subconscious. When your brain needed a break from words you trained your body. Joining Cassian from time to time.

The training backfired miserably, making you more tired, body aching with fatigue every hour, minute, and second of the day.

But you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t go in that cauldron again. Not when it could hold you there. Keep you from waking. And even though Rhys had started sleeping at the House of Wind to ensure that you wouldn’t be trapped, you couldn’t risk it.

You didn’t know if it would continue to attack you, like normal nightmares did, you had no way of knowing what its next move would be. It didn’t act like anything you’d encountered before.

It could attack someone else next time, attack Azriel.

That thought alone was enough to keep you awake for the past week.

But with each passing day, keeping your eyes open got harder and harder.

“You can’t let this continue.”

Azriel hadn’t even noticed his brother’s presence. You’d taken all of his focus, diminished the spymaster to a man who couldn’t even hear Cassian’s footsteps. Which were not at all quiet.

The two Illyrians watch you from the library doorway. You sat with a multitude of books scattered around you, the one you were currently reading almost wider than the length of your hand and you were already halfway through. They watch your eyelids slowly fall, watch you try to fight it by blinking rapidly and shaking your head.

Azriel was in full agreement with Cassian. This couldn’t go on.

Azriel feels hopeful when your eyes finally close, you’re head falling back against the sofa cushion. He holds his breath as he waits for you to sink deeper into sleep, not daring to make a sound in fear of startling you awake. But you shoot up a moment later.

Eyes flying open as you grab the couch like you had to catch yourself from falling. Head snapping to and fro as you frantically search for something that isn’t there. Harshly rubbing the sleep from your eyes over and over, but it only makes your eyes burn with a fire that could only be sated by letting them shut.

In a moment of desperation, you grip your wrist, letting the sharp claws dig into your arm. Repressing the sleep in your system with pain.

Your hand is snatched away.

“Stop!” Azriel yells panicked. Watching as blood began to drip down your arm. “Fuck. Cassian can you-“

His brother was already handing him a first aid kit.

The sounds of shaky breaths and ruffling bandages fill the room. You don’t look at him as he wraps your arm, so mortified, so embarrassed he had to see you this way. That anyone could see you this way. So weak.

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He’s not rough, but he’s not gentle either. So much emotion filled his face.

So much worry, and love, and sadness.

Then his eyes harden. “You need to sleep.” You try to shake your head but can't with his grip on you. “It’s not a suggestion.”

Tears fill your eyes. No. You can’t. Not when you knew it was salivating at the thought. If it managed to kill you in your sleep, only the Gods knew what could happen. If that horror would be unleashed on the world.

You couldn’t risk it. You wouldn’t.

At first, the shadowsinger was torn on what to do. He couldn’t bear the thought of ordering you to suffer. Still can’t. But you were suffering anyway. He couldn’t watch you deteriorate anymore.

He would sacrifice your trust in him if it meant you were healthy.

*****

Dinner was quiet, Rhys and Amren were busy. So that left you, Azriel, Mor, and Cassian. The Acheron sisters ate in their rooms and kept to themselves, though you had seen the older sister a few times. She joined you in the library every once in a while. She never spoke, never looked your way, but she stayed.

“You look like shit.” Mor had said when she saw you, slapping a hand over her mouth as if realizing she spoke aloud. Leave it to Mor to speak the truth.

“Gee, thanks.” You replied, wanting to send her a smile to let her know you didn’t take it to heart but could only find the energy to slide ungracefully into the chair next to her.

Mor turns to you, forgetting her full plate of food. “Gods, look at you!” You tense as she reaches for your face, fingers brushing the bags under her eyes. Her touch made sleep slowly enter your system again. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” She asks as if she didn’t know the answer to that question. Which she most certainly did.

You don’t have it in you to say anything so instead you start shoveling the tasteless food in your mouth. Forcing yourself to swallow it even though it felt like you were chewing chalk.

“You know we’re here for you, don’t you?” She continued, and the food became increasingly hard to swallow with every word she spoke. “You don’t have to fight this alone, it wasn’t even your battle to begin with.”

Your heart drops at her words. Not your battle?

That’s right, this all started with your selfish need to feel useful. So you wouldn’t have to lay around like a weakling. All you did was make everything worse. Of course, you did.

You reach for your water when you feel the food start to rise back up. The water doesn’t help. Your whole body starts to feel clammy, and your head starts to spin.

So you pause leaning back to take a few slow deep breaths through your nose, swallowing the spit that didn’t stop gathering in your mouth.

“Feyre would hate to see you like this.”

Those words were the final blow.

You jump from your seat, hand on your mouth as you dash out of the dining room. Running for the nearest bin, the house seemed to hear your inner pleas because a bucket was waiting for you in the hallway. You fell to your knees in front of it. Too busy hurling up all the food you just ate to cry out at the pain of your kneecaps slamming into the stone floor.

You feel his warm gentle hands on you. Softly rubbing your back, and pulling away your hair. Waiting patiently for you to finish heaving.

When you could breathe without gagging you leaned into him, letting him wipe your face with his sleeve. Ruining the fine shirt he wore. “Can you call Madja? Tell her I need another tonic?”

The little shots of energy that’d kept you standing the last two days, were all you could think of. You needed them before it was too late. Before a week's worth of sleep could catch up on you.

Before that thing was free to roam.

Azriel looks to Cassian, expression grim, and he nods. The general was rushing off the next second. You hope he’s getting Madja.

A moment later Cassian was running back over and crouching beside you, pushing a glass of water in your hands. You wanted to protest, remembering how the water hadn’t helped just moments before, but Azriel takes the cup and puts it to your lips.

“Drink.” You comply. He tilts the cup up and up and up until you drink the final drop. “There you go.” He whispers, setting the cup aside so both of his hands are free to soothe over your body. “That’s it.”

The effect was swift.

That magic that was always writhing under your skin begins to slow. It’s vibrating energy dying out. Until it wasn't even a tingle.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and your heart dropped. What did he do?

Your head becomes foggy, and your body is no longer your own. You can’t fight it as you slump back, can’t do a single thing when your eyes fall shut, can’t even think as your brain powers off.

All you could do was sleep.

Azriel holds you close to him, lip curling at the smell of your fear permeating through the air. “I’m sorry.” He whispered again, though he knew you couldn’t hear him now.

“It will work,” Mor said from where she leaned against the wall, watching you with a solemn look on her face. She, along with everyone else in the inner circle, was on board with the idea the moment Madja brought it up earlier in the week.

“It better.” He was reluctant until today, until he watched you hurt yourself. The fact that you couldn’t keep your food down was the cherry topper.

Azriel just hoped the Faebane in your system would last longer than the sleeping tonic.

The drug succeeded in quelling your magic, succeeded in its purpose of ridding your mind of that awful thing. But it also succeeded in other things.

Without your magic, you were unable to conjure a happy dream for yourself.

Leaving you trapped in your very own nightmare.

*****

Your mother smiled with pride as she adjusted your hair. “Every male will want you.” Your whole life had led up to this moment, everything you had been taught was for this night. The night a male would choose you.

The night you would submit.

So why weren’t you excited?

“Stop that frowning. It’s unsightly.” Your mother leads you to a mirror. A pressure settles on your chest when you look at yourself.

The sheer white gown did nothing to hide your body. Giving anyone who looked a full view of what was underneath. Your face was painted, your skin shaved and silky—glowing from whatever substance she’d lathered on you—and your wings were spread wide, fluttering at a pace that made every intricate design viewable.

Your mother looked the happiest you’d ever seen her. The expression uncanny on her. “They won’t be able to keep their hands off you.”

You felt something inside you twist at the thought.

“Mother?” You say before you can think better of it. She meets your eyes through the mirror. She looked at you like you were a trophy, an object to be displayed not loved. Not that you ever knew the difference.

I don’t want to do this.

The words were right there. At the forefront of your mind. All you had to do was give them a voice.

But it was like your lips were wired shut. Your mouth doesn’t move, your voice doesn’t work. You say nothing.

It wouldn’t have mattered if you had anyway. You didn’t have a choice, you never did. “Don’t worry, child, none of the others can compare with your beauty. You will not be left unpicked.”

Her words brought you no solace.

You hold your chin high, as she leads you out of the hut and toward the growing horde. You make sure you stand straight, shoulders squared like you had been taught. Make sure your hips swayed just slightly, just enough to keep their attention like your mother had shown you.

Make sure your teeth don’t grit, and your legs don’t shake. Make sure your wings don’t twitch, and your smile doesn’t fall.

Your mother parades you around for every male to see. Laughing at some of the comments they made, insinuating banter between the rowdy ones, reveling in the way they fought over you.

With each laugh, each yell, each claim made upon you that pressure in your chest grew. Except it wasn’t just in your chest now, it was in your stomach, and in your head, and under your skin.

Your wings folded subconsciously, making your mother sink her sharp claws into your wrist. Not enough to bleed, she wouldn’t ruin all her work, but enough to hurt. Enough to make your wings snap back open.

Is this really it?

The feeling gets worse when she leads you toward the other women, and then it doubles when she leaves to sit with the onlookers. Not so much as a goodbye, or even a second glance as she walks away.

Your heart pounds as you blend yourself in with the sea of white.

Maneuvering through the women was easy, each and every one of them was silent, tense, and scared. You try not to look at their faces for too long, didn’t want to be able to notice which ones were missing once everything was over.

It wasn’t uncommon for males to lose themselves to the night, last year seven woman were found dead. Brutalized.

You swallow, heart beating so loud, so fast, it’s all you can hear. It drowns everything out.

I don’t want to do this.

You don’t hear the horn blow. You only know it did when everyone around you began heading through the woodline. You almost trip over yourself as you dash forward. You had to run. You had to hide before the second horn blew. You had to make it till dawn.

Your bare feet don’t feel the sharp rocks and sticks that stab into them. Adrenaline fills your body, pumping through your blood, and muscles. Blocking out the pain.

The shimmering barrier is what makes you come to a stop. You’d never seen them before, the wards that kept your community safe, but there was no denying it. That wall of energy was where your colony ended.

Beyond it, death was inevitable.

There was no hope in flying, male wings are much different from females. Stiffer, sharper, stronger, the males would always be superior in the sky.

So you stay on the ground hiding in a nearby thicket just on the edge of the wards. Arms hugging your knees to your panting chest, making yourself as small as possible.

You hoped nobody would search this far. But you knew the males in your community. They stop at nothing and do anything to get what they want.

When a distant scream echoed through the woods you knew you’d missed the second horn. The males were already hunting.

You hold yourself tighter, trying to force slow breaths in your nose and out of your mouth. Frantically trying to slow down your palpitating heart. But it felt like you weren’t getting air. Your whole body was shivering from the adrenaline, that pressure still building.

You would get found by the sound of your breathing if you kept it up.

“No! Ple-!” Your head snaps in the direction of the scream, much closer than the other one. You try not to think about how it cut off so suddenly, about what could’ve happened to her. What could’ve made her object to a male.

You just need to make it till dawn. Just need to keep hiding. For six more hours.

It was hopeless, there wasn’t nearly enough ground to give the women a fighting chance. The men greatly outnumber the women, making the former even more desperate, even more competitive.

Where was the fun if everyone had a chance at winning?

No, they had to yearn for it. It was what made the Ritual work.

Your head falls to your knees.

You don’t want to end up like your mother.

Three years ago your father had grown tired of her, he participated in that year’s Flowering and never spoke to either of you again. As your mother is far from pure, she can not be used in the ceremonies. Instead, she was made a community whore.

A female for the pent up males who had no luck on Flowering to fuck as they please.

Your mother always said it was necessary. That all the things your people did, there were reasons for.

That Flowering Night was a gift, it provided the magic that grew our blooms. The blooms that supplied our only food source. Nectar.

Of course, you believed her, you’d never known any reason not to. The Middle wasn’t a resourceful place. It was too dangerous to send hunters beyond the wards, and there weren’t even any animals to hunt. Only other monsters. And even they weren’t worth hunting. Bodies usually emaciated with no meat on their bones if any at all.

It was necessary, but that didn’t mean you wanted to do it.

You wouldn’t know until much later that your people were just addicts. That hunting wasn’t an impossible thing, not when they had wings. That they could’ve flown to the Day Court to hunt, or even the Winter Court, but they chose not to. Because nothing could ever compare to their precious Nectar.

Snap.

Your blood runs cold as an older male sniffs around. Fifteen feet from you. His hard wings make a low buzz as they vibrate against each other with frustration.

The male was a brute, muscle stacked upon bulging muscle.

You hold your breath as he slowly gets closer, the buzz becoming louder. If he caught your scent, no amount of shrubbery could keep him from finding you.

He gets closer, and your heart pounds faster. That pressure you feel under your skin now throbbing. Pulsating.

He’s almost ten feet away, if he got any closer he’d undoubtedly smell the fear that left your body in waves.

White dots started filling your vision. You fight with your body to hold it.

A blessing came in the form of a scream, this one even closer than the last. Your throat constricts trying to force air into your system. Your teeth ache from how tightly you clench your jaw.

The male started in that direction. Your throat burned, your head pounding.

Just a second more.

But you couldn’t stop yourself from gasping for air.

The male stops. Then he looks right at you.

You’d never known terror till that moment.

*****WARNING: until the next scene change dark themes will be depicted such as rape and violence, if you do not wish to read proceed to the next “*****”

He pounced, dragging you out of the bushes by the base of your wings. Even though you don’t struggle.

He throws you to the ground, not wasting a second before straddling your thighs. Pinning down your legs. His hands grip the fabric of your gown, tearing it off your shoulder. You want to cover your body, but instead you lay still. Let him run his filthy hands over your breasts, let them squirm their way between your legs.

You let him cause it’s all you’ve ever known.

Even though your mind was screaming.

He is anything but gentle, forcing his way inside, digging around. You can’t stop the cry of pain that leaves you, the tears that fill your eyes, and he moans. Touch becoming rougher, harsher, trying to force another cry from you.

The pain becomes worse when he adds more fingers, shoving his way though.

Like he was trying to rip you open.

His head buries into your shoulder. Sniffing and groaning in your ear. Rutting against you like a wild animal.

Then he bites down, and you scream.

Your hands find his head and that pressure, that jerking energy under your skin devours him.

The male collapses, body twitching on top of you. Teeth still embedded in your shoulder. You're stunned for a moment, but that's quickly replaced with revulsion.

Your arms shake with the effort it takes to roll him off of you. Whimpering when his teeth slowly leave your shoulder.

His hands don't leave you, even though he was now out of reaching distance you could still feel them. Touching, grabbing, digging.

You feel nothing but disgust as you look at the male, watching him mumble, whine, and mewl in his unconscious state. You don’t even get the time to question it, to think about what happened. The heavy footsteps that head your way get closer by the second.

I don’t want to do this.

So you don’t.

For once in your life you disregard all of your teachings. Every rule beaten into you. Each false instinct that’d burrowed into your body. And you run.

Right past the wards.

Because you’d rather die than end up like your mother.

You run and you keep running until your lungs are stabbed with pain, until your legs give out from beneath you, and you crash to the ground.

Your nails dig into the soil as you lay there. To breathe. To think. To cry.

Maybe you could just wait here till dawn. Maybe then you could go back. Nobody would have to know you even left.

But the chill of the crooked woods laugh at you. You hear the sound of old trees creaking in the wind, calling you foolish.

You couldn’t go back, you’d attacked a male. There was nowhere for you now, just death.

Still, there was a senseless part of your brain that hoped this was all a wretched night terror. That any minute now you would wake up to your mom’s voice. And you would be in bed. And Flowering will have already passed. And you wouldn’t have went because your mom knew you didn’t want to. And she wouldn’t have wanted you to go through it either, because of how ruthless the males were. And your life would go on until the next year came around. And maybe then you would be ready. Maybe then you would have accepted it.

The other part of your brain was ready to be done with it all.

“[name]?”

Your breath catches, unsteadily lifting yourself from the ground. You look around, searching for that familiar voice.

“Mother?”

“[name], my child…” You see her. She was completely bare, something you were used to, her beauty a stark contrast to the spindly trees around her. She walks toward you crouching before you, you sob when she rests a soft hand on your cheek. So, so different from how she usually held you. Then she spoke in such a soft voice, a tone you’d never heard leave her mouth. “You looked so beautiful when you were screaming.”

The next moment it felt like you were punched in the shoulder, a heat unlike any other burned your skin. You look down to see a blade sticking out of your chest, a shriveled-up hand attached. Not the smooth skin of your mother.

When you look back into your mother's eyes they were no longer hers. Replaced with a milky white that gleamed in the moonlight. The face no longer female or beautiful. It’s skin was stretched taught over its thin bones.

Then as it spoke again with a smile so wide, teeth so rotted, and breath so pungent you knew what it was.

“Cry for me, child.” It said, sounding like a million different voices at once.

A creature that preyed on the weak, found pleasure in the act of killing. It cannot be reasoned with, its only joy is to watch the life leave someone’s eyes. To watch people die a sad miserable death in the form of the ones they loved the most.

The Mymic.

You scream, and it laughs. You scream louder as it twists the blade inside you and then drags. Ripping each nerve, muscle, and vein as slowly as possible. So you could feel each and every tear.

The creature howled in ecstasy as it tore into you, cutting you open endlessly.

No one would save you, not this time.

Nightmares don’t have happy endings.

“So beautiful…” It sighed pulling the blade out of your chest only to play with the blood that pooled out, finger-painting your white gown red.

*****

He couldn’t stand it, you were so still that Azriel had to keep making sure you were breathing. He holds you against him, unable to keep his hands from wandering, soothing you. Shadows doing the same.

You’d been sleeping for two days straight. Madja kept assuring him and everyone else that you were okay. That it was a good thing, that your body was responding well to the tonic and catching up on the sleep it needed.

The Faebane had cleaned out of your system after the first twenty-four hours. But no Hybern soldiers made any appearance, no evil king, not even a flicker in the fae lights.

His head leans against yours, watching your chest lift up and down. He moves a hand to rest there, watching it rise and fall. Finding comfort in the repetitive motion.

Maybe you weren’t made for him. Maybe the cauldron didn’t deem you mates. Maybe he didn’t care.

Azriel was content to just share something so real with you, so raw.

A bond didn’t make what the two of you had any less intense. He didn’t need to be tethered to you to know what you were feeling. Didn’t need fate to tell him you were the love of his life.

He’d always pick you.

A small sound reaches his ears, he was so worried about you that he’d started having audio hallucinations. But then he heard it again, louder this time, and he knew it wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

Your breathing becomes irregular, another little noise leaving your parted lips. Azriel’s hands rub you soothingly. Waiting patiently for the sleep to fade from your body. Whispering when he could tell you were conscious enough to hear him. “Hey.” He drawls, making sure he's quiet. When you open your gorgeous eyes and look at him his heart stops. “There you are.”

You blink at him. “You drugged me.”

Azriel flinches at the words. Actually flinches. Then he nods.

“My magic… I can feel it now but it was…”

His hand reaches for yours, feeling relief when you let him take it. He runs his thumb over the smooth skin. “Faebane. We got some when Rhys was captured.”

You look down at your free hand, willing a small moth to appear there. Checking that everything was working correctly. The moth flies up toward Azriel but it dissipates before it can get far.

You weren’t mad. Quite the opposite. You’d woken up and found yourself relieved. Relieved to see him there next to you. Relieved to be home.

You weren’t angry because you knew he did it to help not to hurt. Sure, he could’ve gone about it in a different way, maybe presented the idea to you instead of just slipping the drug in your water. But you couldn’t fault him for that either, Azriel was a man of action and few words.

Still that didn’t stop you from asking. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t even want to agree to it at first. So little is known about your kind, your magic, there was no telling if the Faebane would even effect you. I didn’t want to risk you getting stuck in that nightmare without the ability to heal.”

Your eyes widen at the information. If he’d told you that, nothing would’ve gotten you to agree. But he took that chance? Azriel wasn’t a gambler.

Your face must’ve shown what you were thinking because he continued.

“Then you hurt yourself and I couldn’t take it anymore, [name]. You needed to get better.” He squeezes your hand. “If I have to fight off a living nightmare so you can get a night's sleep, I will.”

“Did you?” You ask, wondering if the male had made an appearance or the Mymic.

Azriel shakes his head. You sigh in relief. Ignoring the way your stomach grumbled with hunger, in no hurry to force down tasteless food. No hurry to leave your male. You lay your head on his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You say, and he shakes his head at you in confused questioning. “For letting it get that far.” For not being strong enough to get a grip.

The shadowsinger holds your head to his chest. “I’m sorry.” He presses his lips against your head, saying the words into your hair. “I wish I knew other ways to help.”

Your hands grip him. Nails clinging to his bare skin. “I missed you.” The worst part about reliving that Nightmare, was that you hadn’t known he existed. That someone so amazing was out there, and capable of loving you.

“I never left.”

taglist <3: @acourtofbatboydreams @xreaderbooksreads @gorlillaglue25 @anuttellaa @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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psuedosugu · 11 months ago

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Hi! Is it cool if you write about reader trying to sneak out of the V tower at night to run away from yandere Vox? To add a twist, reader is also somehow immune to his hypnosis. Love the writing, girl! Keep it up!

thank youuu you guys are so nice, anyways reader being immune to hypnosis is such a good idea omg

cw: themes of manipulation and toxic relationships, physical violence (vox drags reader by their hair)

gender neutral

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

✮₊ ⊹ || vox hadn’t realized that you were immune to his hypnosis until far after he had fallen for you.

✮₊ ⊹ || he didn’t want to force you, he wanted the satisfaction of knowing you truly wanted him, to know that he had won you over fair and square.

✮₊ ⊹ || he did have it as a last resort though, if you ever started to reject or abandon him.

✮₊ ⊹ || see, vox is delusional as fuck. he has this romanticized view of you two’s relationship when in reality either you don’t like him nearly as much in the same way, or he’s coming on too fast and its ofputting.

✮₊ ⊹ || so if you were to break this mold of expectation, vox would obviously freak out and do anything to make you stay.

✮₊ ⊹ || vox also loves having control over everything, so once he realizes he doesn’t have control over you, he freaks out even more.

✮₊ ⊹ || he resorts to threats to try and get you to stay, some empty, some not.

✮₊ ⊹ || you can never tell though. hes a powerful overlord that has control over pretty much all electronics and im assuming all of the things that are in them (socials, private pictures, messages, ect.)

✮₊ ⊹ || if you have any type of media presence he could plant rumors about you

✮₊ ⊹ || he could find and spread leaked photos of you, he could go onto your socials/messages and send/post horrible things, and even more.

✮₊ ⊹ || despite this, you still attempt to run away from him. you weren’t exactly sure where, though. perhaps that weird hotel you had heard of, run by lucifer’s daughter.

✮₊ ⊹ || you didn’t know much about it, but you did know that vox wouldn’t check there and at this point you were desperate.

✮₊ ⊹ || so you packed your bags, left your electronics behind so he couldn’t spy on you, and set off.

✮₊ ⊹ || vox has eyes everywhere, though, so you hadn’t even left the tower before he had figured out your plan and caught you.

✮₊ ⊹ || he was absolutely livid to say the least, pulling you by the hair and scolding you.

“you ungrateful brat! i give you one inch of space and this is what you do? dont you get how much i’ve done for you?”

✮₊ ⊹ || you’re locked in your quarters until further notice. meanwhile, vox is freaking out. if he can’t hypnotize you then how will he ever make you want to stay?

✮₊ ⊹ || he goes back to love bombing you, giving you everything you could ever need.

✮₊ ⊹ || new clothes, of course! specific kind of food? coming right up. the latest tech? why didn’t you just ask earlier?

✮₊ ⊹ || its a weak method, but he’s trying his best! the least you can do is stay.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

#vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin vox #vox x you #x reader #yandere!vox x reader

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miss-dollette · 7 months ago

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Protective Situationship!Simon “Ghost” Riley

Situationship!Simon who’d pull up the second you call and tell him about an unsafe situation you were in.

Creepy weirdo stalking you around the park? Insistent creep waiting outside the bar bathroom? Uber driver who takes a detour into an empty parking lot? Oh, Simon would be at your side in minutes. You’d hardly need to explain, just drop the location and he WILL be there.

He wouldn’t resort to violence unless they stared it first, but best believe he’d stare at them like he’s ready to rip their head off. If they’re smart, they won’t get cocky and throw the first punch.

If they’re stupid and foolishly decided they had a fair chance against him, their pathetic jab wouldn’t even land before Simon absolutely obliterates them. A knife or a weapon wouldn’t help their case. Try and surprise him with a stab at his ribs, and he’d land one hard punch at theirs, leaving them writhing on the ground.

Situationship!Simon hates being violent around you. He wants to leave “Ghost” at work. But if you’re threatened in any way, he would bring him out. The last thing he’d want was for you to witness even a second of pain the world offers. You’re a civilian and his lover, and he would do anything to block you away from all the awfulness that he see’s and partakes in.

After taking care of the creep, he’d practically scoop you up (literally, if you’re frozen in shock at your lover’s sudden display of violence) and take you somewhere safe. Preferably, home. However, if you’re busy, he’d follow you around like a guard dog, still tense from the adrenaline running through him.

Situationship!Simon would get you a gun and personally be your instructor. He’d want you to be able to protect yourself when he’s away on duty. He’d be the world’s most patient teacher. He’d never raise his voice at you or make you feel bad about a mistake. A gentleman, through and through.

Teaching you to physically fight off creeps takes a bit longer. All that sweating and rolling around while panting (mostly on your part. Simon is practically playing with you) usually leads to sex. Seeing you all red and trying so hard to finally get the upper hand just gets him sprung (😛) and ready to fuck on the mat. Just follow teachers instructions.

Makes him prideful to protect his lover. A sort of macho man thing. Would definitely try to subtly show off his physique to you. Before you, most of his training was to oil and maintain a machine of war. But then you came along, and now he wants to look good for you. Yes, he looks good regardless, but he’d definitely target the muscles he knows you like.

Situationship!Simon who is always there for you, even if you’re not officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

#cod mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 #cod mw3 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2

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nyrandrea · 1 year ago

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hiii I’d like to request (again if that’s ok, it’s me the one who asked for the injured ) but if so then may I ask for this time so what if everyone’s at camp all asleep when a few people sneak in and kidnap reader but Astarion wakes up hearing something wasn’t right seein what’s going on watches as reader disappears then ofc hunting them down to see them being used in an ritual all tied up and weak dndeueududid ( sorry it’s like 1:18am I’m laid awake thinking about random things 💀 )

Helloooo again! I enjoyed your last request and certainly had fun with this one too so thanks again! (1:18am is the best time for random thoughts :D )

Warnings for canon typical violence, kidnapping, rituals (kinda), blood and swears

Word Count - 2.9k

Enjoy!

xxx

Under the silvery embrace of the crescent moon, nestled within the heart of a tranquil forest, you and your companions had surrendered to the gentle clutches of slumber, a collective of soft snoring weaving its way through the rustling leaves and whispering trees.

A clearing in the woods served as your base for the night after a long, grueling day of travelling. The grass beneath you was like a plush carpet, and a delicate blanket of dew kissed the blades, glistening like diamonds. The air was crisp, yet tender, cradling you in its nocturnal embrace.

Your team had all gathered in a sort of semi-circle, heads pillowed upon hands or nestled into makeshift cushions fashioned from backpacks and rolled-up cloaks. You weren’t sure how or when, but throughout your sleep you had unconsciously rolled over and inched yourself closer to where Astarion lay, his delicious scent drawing you in.

One could observe the group and note the serene expressions etched upon their faces. They appeared as though they were sculpted by dreams, their features softened by the embrace of rest. Your eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as you chased the remnants of recent adventures.

Unfortunately for you, you were being observed.

You flinched as the corner of your vision registered a goblin kneeling beside you, the tip of his dagger against your throat before you could even scramble for your own weapon.

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you," he purrs, smiling smugly down at you. “Not if you want your friends to keep their innards intact.”

Your eyes widen and dart over to where the rest of the group lay, completely oblivious to the goblins that threatened their very lives. You were even surprised to see Astarion still in a deep trance of meditation; he was usually so much more alert at night.

“What do you want?” you whisper.

“For you to come with us, true soul,” the goblin answered. “We are in desperate need of your... assistance.”

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Just what I need, more Absolute nutjobs.’

“Look, I don’t think I can help you.”

“Oh, but you are the only one who can,” he retorts, slowly pulling the knife away from your throat. “It’s our leader, you see. She is gravely ill and only a true soul like yourself can cure her.”

Your face scrunches up in disbelief. “If she’s ill, then it’s a healer you need, not me.”

The goblin frowns. “It’s you she needs, she said so herself.” His blade edges closer to you once again, signaling for you to get up. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to come with us. Or am I going to have to resort to a bit of… persuasion?”

He exchanges a glance with one of his men, who seemed all too giddy to slash Astarion’s neck.

“No…!” You almost shout but restrain yourself so as to not alert the others and incur a massacre. “I-I’ll come with you, just... leave them be.”

The goblin grinned up at you, and you had to force down the bile that was rising in your throat.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he crooned, gesturing for you to follow.

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze darting between your weapon and the goblin, his eyes are trained on you, almost as if he was daring you to try. Ultimately, you were outnumbered, and they held the element of surprise over your companions. No matter which way you tried to cut it, there were going to be casualties if you didn’t do what you were told.

So, you begrudgingly allowed yourself to be led into whatever hellish fate this cult of the Absolute had in store for you. A plan of escape would have to come later, when you were far enough away from your friends.

Unbeknownst to you, one of them was already on your trail.

xxx

Amidst the shroud of night, when the moon hid its luminous face behind a thick blanket of heavy clouds, you and your merry little band of kidnappers ventured into a meadow cloaked in long, swaying grass. The air had an eerie stillness about it, broken only by the distant whispers of nocturnal creatures.

As you traversed the meadow, moving with cautious steps, your feet sinking into the cool earth with each stride, you silently weighed up your options. The grass was like a sea of shadows, their whispers brushing against your legs like ghostly fingers; it would be so easy just to blend in and disappear.

You would have considered it, if it were not for the worgs.

The air was imbued with the scent of dew-drenched grass, but those beasts would still be able to track you down within seconds. Only... there were most certainly four of them the last time you checked. But looking around now, you only noticed two.

It appeared the goblins had noticed too; their hushed conversations were like faint echoes in the vast expanse, mixing with the symphony of crickets and the occasional haunting call of a night owl. You couldn’t make out a damn word they were saying, but they looked nervous.

“It would seem that we have a stalker in our midst,” the leader of the group growled, holding up a hand for everyone to come to a halt before he grabbed your wrist, forcing you down to his level. “Sod it, change of plan. You’re with me,” he commanded one of his men before turning to the rest. “You lot deal with the bastard while we take our friend here back to base.”

“Hey!” You grabbed his wrist and tried to wrench yourself free. “Let go!”

“With pleasure,” he grinned as he simultaneously released his grip and struck the back of your head with a blunt weapon, rendering you unconscious just as the ambusher seized the opportune moment. With lightning speed and calculated precision, he pounced from the grass, launching himself like a shadowy wraith. Long grass bent and swirled in his wake, mimicking the dance of phantoms.

In that fleeting moment, you caught the glint of a blade unsheathed, reflecting a cold, silver streak in the night. Chaos ensued, and the long grass became a battleground, hiding the combatants in its tangled embrace.

The clash of steel rang through the night, intermingling with the desperate cries of your name as you slipped away into darkness.

The ambusher moved with ruthless determination; his scarlet eyes ablaze with a wild, unholy fervor. In the end, silence fell upon the meadow, broken only by the ragged breaths of the victorious, standing amidst the long grass, a solitary figure bathed in the haunting glow of the moon, his cloak billowing like a specter as he followed the trail of broken grass the other goblins had made as they carried your prone form away.

xxx

The first thing you could feel was a pounding in your head. You try to sit up, to pull your knees up so you can curl up and settle the turning in your stomach. Slowly, your eyes opened as your breath sped up.

You were lying on the dirty floor in the middle of some sort of temple, hardly able to move due to your wrists and ankles being bound by chains. You struggle to draw in shallow gasps as you blinked through the blurriness of tears that clung to your eyelashes.

“What?” you whisper to yourself, wiggling to try and find an opening in the chains, trying not to hyperventilate as the bindings dug painfully into your skin the more you tried to move.

You bite your lip as your mind races with ideas to escape, to get away from this place, to kill these people for having the audacity to kidnap you, to threaten your friends.

Different scenarios play out repeatedly in your head, but the reality was that you were powerless to do anything.

“Comfortable, are we?”

A goblin slinked her way over to you from the shadows, she was unlike the crude and menacing stereotypes that often plagued her kind. She possessed an eerie, captivating beauty and moved with an uncanny grace; as sinuous as a serpent. Her skin, the color of moss, bore intricate tattoos that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

Your skin tingled, hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as the goblin prowled behind your back to watch over your shoulder, her warm breath brushing behind your ear.

“I do hope so - it is truly an unimaginable honor to have a true soul like yourself amongst us, especially one with such... soft, tender flesh.”

A soft whimper pressed from your throat as warm hands slithered over your shoulders, kneading gently into tensed muscles. It sent a shudder down your spine, pressing your entire body in on itself.

“No need to be so coy, dear,” she said. “We’ll be getting to know one another, after all. For what is to come.”

Your lips pressed tight together as you swallowed down a knot in your throat, but your chin was forced up so that your eyes locked with hers. The symbol of the Absolute flashed on her face like a dazzling light, but no matter how much the tadpole wriggled and pulsed inside your head, nothing was happening.

You held no authority here.

“Those little mind tricks won’t work with me,” she sneered, pointing a clawed finger to her temple. “For I too, am a true soul. In fact, I am the one and only true soul!”

“W-w-what do you mea-?”

You were silenced with a hard slap.

“You may not speak in my presence, worm,” the goblin growled. “Speaking of, I’ve got so many of the little buggers up there, I may as well be as powerful as the Absolute themselves!” She barked a laugh and grinned maniacally down at you. “And your parasite will make a fine addition to my collection.”

‘Gods, this bitch is fucking crazy,’ you thought, but your mind immediately seized up and burned as she pried her way into it, and she was not too happy with your choice of words.

“You haven’t even seen crazy yet,” she growled as she traced a claw down the side of your face, drawing a thin line of blood. “I think I’ll pry your worm out myself with my bare hands and make you watch as I consume it before we gut you and roast you on the spit with the rest of the pigs.”

Strong hands took hold of your arms and legs and dragged you onto a slab of stone that had markings etched along the edges. You could just make out they were in Infernal—akin to the ones on Astarion’s back—but like his, you couldn’t decipher their meaning.

You kicked, flailed and screamed in desperation, but you were soon silenced by the goblin as she wrapped her hands around your throat while the others formed a circle around you and started muttering some sort of ritualistic prayer.

Your senses were dulling further by the second and a part of you wanted to give in to the pain, to just let yourself black out and fade away, but something within you pulsated with the will to live. To fight to your very last breath. Was this the parasite’s doing? Or was it something else?

“Just give in to the Absolute, dear, "the goblin said, her tone almost sickeningly gentle. “You’ll be all the better for it.”

“F...f...”

“Aw, your last, dying words,” she purrs, leaning in closer to listen. “I will permit it.”

“...Fuck you,” you spat.

The goblin’s smug expression warps into one of pure fury, and she bares her teeth at you as she grabs a hold of your face with one hand, using the other to slowly inch her claws towards your left eye. Her hiss garbles into a shrill wheeze as a dagger is plunged into her back and through her chest several times, relentlessly. A stray drop of blood trails down her mouth as she screams silently before she is rolled away from you, her body plopping onto the ground with an unceremonious thump.

You try to catch your breath, thanking whatever Gods were out there that they decided to spare you today.

“Don’t thank them, darling, thank me,” a familiar voice teased, though his shaking voice betrayed his light tone. “They would have done bugger all, anyway.”

A tiny, joyful laugh escapes from your raw throat as your eyes fall onto the welcome sight of Astarion, who seems just as relieved to see you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, quickly approaching with what appeared to be a pair of bolt cutters.

You nodded desperately, holding out your wrists.

Astarion took a moment to get the teeth of the bolt cutters properly in place where they wouldn’t bite through the skin but snapped them together fairly easily.

You shuddered a soft sob, relief dripping from your eyes as you rubbed at your wrists. Astarion didn’t wait for further instructions, you needed to move.

He knelt by your feet, slotting one link of the chain between the thick metal teeth, then braced one handle against his thigh. It bruised and dug into the flesh of his leg, but he didn’t stop.

The metal didn’t relent, but neither would he.

“Astarion-”

“Just... hold on, darling!” he says, pausing only briefly to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m no Lae’zel or Karlach; strength isn’t exactly my forte but I’ve... almost got it...!”

Teeth grit, fueled by fear and desperation, Astarion pulled harder and harder, feeling the bruise work against the bone and listening to his back crackle at the strain. He shifted, readjusting – maybe one half of the link would be enough? It was dented – that was a good sign.

You rested both hands on Astarion’s shoulders, steadying you both as he groaned under the effort. He jerked the handle to and fro, desperately trying to force the iron link to submit to iron teeth.

With one final effort, the metal finally crunched, and you were free.

Astarion’s arms encircled you with a strength that made you feel safe and cherished, while you nestled your head against his chest.

“You... how did you...?”

“I knew from the moment they took you,” Astarion said, smoothing down your arms, the motion was slow and helped calm you down a little. “I was, let’s say, aware of their presence in camp. But like you, I wanted to avoid a messy fight and so I tracked you down myself and... thank the gods I did.”

“Guess they helped out a little, after all,” you weakly joked.

“Oh shush,” he softly retorted. “It was fairly easy, what with that awful stench those creatures' reek of.”

“So, it was you... in the meadow.”

“It was,” he smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. “I almost had you, if only I’d been quicker, or less sloppy, you wouldn’t have...”

His eyes, pools of worry and tenderness, never left your face. He reached out with a hand that trembled, his fingers brushing away strands of your disheveled hair. His touch was feather-light, as if he feared causing you any more discomfort.

With a voice softer than a whisper, he asked, “Did… did they…?” The words carried the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions.

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, his lips curling into a tender smile as he leaned into your touch. Gently, he began to inspect your injuries. His fingers traced the contours of your throat, seeking out any sign of any permanent damage. With each touch, he was meticulous, ensuring that he didn’t aggravate the forming bruise.

"Does it hurt much?" he inquires softly, his expression unreadable, almost dazed.

You wince slightly but shake your head. "It's bearable.”

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so, so strong, my dear," he whispers, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul.

His soft gaze hardens as he glares down at the goblins' bodies that littered the room. “Death is too good for them. I’m almost tempted to have them revived so I can make them suffer just a little longer.”

“How did you even manage to kill so many?” you ask, you knew he was a dab hand at killing but even he couldn’t take on a whole horde by himself.

“They were all so engrossed in their little ritual, they didn’t even see me coming,” Astarion said with a shrug. “That’s what you get for blind faith, I suppose.”

You wanted to laugh, but your throat hurt too much.

“Come on, darling,” Astarion gently looped your arm around his shoulder and guided you, going as slow as your aching legs would allow. “Let’s get you home.”

Your eyes met his in a gaze that transcended words, a silent conversation of empathy and understanding. In that moment, the world ceased to exist beyond the contours of your bodies, and the only reality was the sensation of skin against skin, the intoxicating scent of each other's presence, and the unspoken promise that he would never allow this to happen to you again.

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #my writing #fanfiction #tw kidnapping #request

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adhdbisexualramblings · 4 months ago

Text

Cringe culture is dead. Introducing … Regressor Bill Cipher headcanons!

(May contain TBoB spoilers)

Vent regressor flag and general age regression flag (couldn’t find the source, but is that really needed?)

(Regressing while drunk, general unhappy/vent regression, unhealthy coping, mentions of a psych ward (Theraprism), panic attacks, memory issues, Bill-typical violence (non-graphic))

-I hesitate to call it regression. Being a demon with no technical physical form, and also unfamiliar with human customs, he’s not a typical regressor at all. It’s also due to the fact that Bill doesn’t allow himself to feel things and the blurriness tied to his childhood memories.

-When he’s feeling mentally “smaller”, his triangle form will shrink to accommodate.

-Sleep comes to him easier when he’s small. Bill loathes it.

-Point blank, Bill’s regression is a 80/20 split from angry to sad.

-I do mean angry. You thought his usual pettiness and emotional issues were bad? They’re heightened by ten. He hasn’t caused universe-destroying incidents yet, though.

-Bill being regressed rarely ever impedes on his ability to harm others. He’s gotten very good at ‘separating himself’ from it. Though his deal-making is often sloppy.

-Dissociation. That’s it, that’s the note.

-Thankfully for everyone around Bill and himself, his fits - and regression as a whole - only last a few hours. He’s never regressed for a day, though he has regressed multiple times in a short span of time.

-His speech stays mostly intact, but he can slip up and use more childish phrases or demands.

-He still really loves silly straws.

-He tends to regress more than usual when drunk. Bill will absolutely whine and sob and cling to the ‘safest’ person. He regressed (mostly) after his and Ford’s “breakup.”

-The Henchmaniacs have many times been concerned by this.

-If Bill, for once, thinks he needs to regress, he’ll chug a lot of alcohol to ‘do the trick.’

-He gets scared of his own fire powers. Goes into panic mode if he sees any flame at all, really.

-Doesn’t think he needs or wants a caregiver, which is true sixty percent (60%) of the time.

-Calling him “Billy” will either make him attach himself to you or try to kill you, no in-between.

-Bill has memory gaps. He gets confused as to what part of his life he’s experiencing and it’s caused him a great deal of stress.

-Almost all of the Henchmaniacs (usually Pyronica) have had to listen to him cry. Bill never manages to tell them what he’s crying about.

-“I wanna go home.”

“…I thought we already were home, boss?”

“NO!” *cue tantrum*

-Ford managed to unintentionally make him positively regress once. Bill had no clue what to do with this information and shoved it away.

-Even if you know him very well, he hides his regression exceptionally and you’d be unable to tell ninety-nine percent (99%) of the time.

-The Theraprism isn’t ill-equipped to help regressors, but Bill never lets them. He refuses to take the medicine even with the silly straw and has had multiple panic attacks and resorted to attempted murder at the prospect. The staff will leave him to his own devices if it’s a particularly bad day.

-Bill draws lots of red and blue triangles on the bad days.

-His regression has never once been happy or enjoyable. That he can remember, at least.

-The Axolotl was his caregiver at some point, however. A long time ago, when they were friends. Rarely ever did the two meet, but Bill was genuinely the happiest when he was small with the Axolotl.

#Gravity Falls age regression #Gravity Falls agere #cringe culture is dead #age regressor Bill Cipher #Gravity falls #tbob spoilers #vent regression #regressor headcanons #tw alcohol #tw panic attacks #Pls don’t kill me im just being silly #He drinks to regress but correlation is not causation

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antianakin · 9 months ago

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I'm starting to see some very funny (and by funny I mean infuriating) takes on what Andor was actually ABOUT and the way it utilized its more adult narrative within the context of Star Wars. Andor as a show followed Lucas's themes BRILLIANTLY even while choosing to look at them a little differently.

One of the primary themes in Star Wars is that there really isn't much of a "middle ground" in life. You are either choosing to be selfless and compassionate, or you aren't. Trying to stay in the middle or run from making this choice inevitably ends up badly for the people who try. And one of the other primary themes of Star Wars is that being selfless and compassionate often requires LETTING GO, most often letting go of the people you love and accepting that change happens in life.

I've seen people argue that Andor is able to be a morally grey story because its characters aren't Jedi or Sith who tend to be more bound by these cosmic themes or good vs evil, but I'd argue that Andor actually represents that theme JUST FINE.

Despite many of its characters living in a "morally ambiguous" area, we still have to see them make the choice to be selfless and compassionate or selfish and greedy. One of the primary themes for the characters is how well they can LET GO or not. Cassian is constantly having to figure out how to let go of his plans for his future, let go of his mother, let go of his dreams of a normal life. Cassian is ruled by fear for much of the first season and it's only once he is pushed into a situation where there's no longer any way to run, he starts finally fighting back and refusing to bow to the oppressive force that wants nothing more than to see him discarded like so much refuse. The people of Ferrix have to let go of their desire to stick their heads in the sand and simply hope the Empire won't notice them.

And on the other end of the spectrum you have Syril Karn and Dedra Meero absolutely fixated on their respective goals to the point that they're willing to kill and betray innocent people to reach them. They've convinced themselves their goals are selfless, but their motivations are in fact actually SELFISH, they serve nobody but their own ambitions. And both of them end up paying for it.

So Andor ABSOLUTELY gets the central theme of Star Wars, it isn't actually trying to change that. What it DOES do is take that theme and just digs slightly deeper, looking at this theme from a slightly different angel even when it ultimately comes to the same conclusion. Andor asks if selflessness and compassion always looks like "I'm Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you!" Or if maybe sometimes making the selfless choice means burning yourself to light a fire to lead someone else to safety. Are all people who make the selfless and compassionate choice considered heroes, or are some of them having to make those choices down in the dirt and destined to be forgotten by history? Andor asks how many variations of selflessness might exist and then explores them in its wide, colorful ensemble.

Andor also is looking at what selflessness might look like in characters who are forced into making a choice between standing back when they see evil happening and dirtying their hands just to make the smallest difference because forces of evil outside of their control are making the purer options impossible.

And that is the EXACT SAME THEME explored with the Prequels Jedi. The Jedi who want so badly to be selfless and compassionate, whose philosophies and ideologies lead them to use violence only as a last resort and love everyone and everything in the galaxy equally. The Jedi who are thrust into a war where there's no way to win because the Sith are running both sides of it and the Jedi can't just NOT FIGHT because that will get innocent people killed and will help no one but themselves, but they have to compromise their morals as a result. The Jedi who see a politician slowly amassing unreasonable amounts of power he's unwilling to let go of and a Senate too controlled by fear and greed to see the danger, so their only option is to commit treason to try to remove the corruption personally.

The Jedi LOOK the hero part a lot more than the characters in Andor do. They're strong, confident, powerful, and wield swords of light. They fight out in the open rather than from the shadows. Cassian, Luthen, Saw, Mon Mothma, Vel, and Cinta all manipulate things and threaten people and lie and cheat their way towards victory. Both Mon Mothma and Luthen fully admit to choosing to act like their enemy in order to defeat them. And it's not that the Jedi's way of fighting is any worse than the way the people of Andor have learned to fight. The people of Andor would LOVE to be able to fight like the Jedi used to do. But they can't. Palpatine has created a world in which being heroes that way is NO LONGER POSSIBLE. He started with the Jedi, by forcing the Jedi into a situation where fighting the way they once did was the wrong choice to make. There were no longer any right choices, just better choices. The only choice.

The Jedi stood as a bulwark between the darkness and the people of the galaxy. For years they chose to dirty their hands in order to fight the battles no one else WANTED to fight because it was the ONLY CHOICE TO MAKE. So what happens when the Jedi are gone?

The rest of the galaxy is now faced with the same choice. Do you stand by and let darkness grow? Or do you dirty your hands a little because it's the only choice you CAN make?

The people in Andor are picking up the torch that fell out of the Jedi's hands when they were murdered and persecuted by the Sith. Only the people who are left don't have magic powers or swords of light, so they use the resources they have at their disposal, which mostly amounts to manipulation and trickery and striking from shadows. The fight looks a little different now, but it's still the same fight the Jedi were fighting for years.

So Andor is taking those bigger cosmic themes from the Jedi/Sith conflicts that permeate the rest of the Skywalker saga and asks what those themes might look like when applied to the little people. What kind of choices might THEY make, what kind of things might they have to let go of in order to make those selfless choices? What kind of consequences might happen when they DON'T make the selfless choice? It's the exact same theme Lucas has ALWAYS had in his stories, just viewed from a different angle or through a different lens.

But the stories we've been getting recently that are trying to argue that being selfish is actually totally fine so long as you're doing it For Love, that the Jedi were in fact the source of everything that went wrong in the galaxy, that the Jedi were DESTINED to be destroyed, those all go completely against Lucas's themes. They're the direct OPPOSITE of his intended message. It is in fact entirely possible to write a more adult story with grittier content that STILL SENDS THE SAME FUCKING MESSAGE AND FOLLOWS THE SAME THEMES and doesn't try to get edgy in its interpretation of the source material.

#star wars #star wars andor #andor #sw andor #cassian andor #luthen rael #mon mothma #jedi #pro jedi #george lucas #star wars prequels #prequels jedi

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belle-rosse · 3 months ago

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I think wayyyy too much about the scene in s1x07 where Vi and Cait try to save each other from Jinx’s attack, and maybe simple thoughts have turned into a meaningless analysis. I’ll share it anyway.

The way Vi and Caitlyn try to protect each other in this scene perfectly reflects how they were raised, and I think it even works as foreshadowing for the scene in the rain.

Let’s focus on Vi first. The core part of her identity since she was a child has been to protect, which we see from the way she shields Powder from the horrifying sight on the bridge in the very first minute of the first episode, up to this very moment. Vi has a specific way of carrying out this protection. Unlike when she's on her own, Vi doesn’t jump straight into a fight—she first moves the person she wants to protect away from danger, then faces the battle entirely alone. Here, she follows the same process: her first impulse is to shield Caitlyn by pushing her out of the weapon’s range, not caring about her own safety. She only takes cover after making sure that no one can hurt Cait. This is Vi’s impulsive nature at its peak, as well as her absolute loyalty.

Now, with Caitlyn, there’s more to discuss. Caitlyn has been protected her entire life, shielded behind her parents and her last name. This sense of security has made Caitlyn a rebel, someone who pushes the boundaries of that protection (while following certain rules), but it also makes her very naive. Caitlyn doesn’t truly know the dangers of the world. Even though she tries to project confidence, she had never stepped on the other side of the bridge before. That’s why I believe her decision to step in front of Vi as a shield while also trying to protect herself with her arm is a pure act but rooted in ignorance. Caitlyn jumps into danger to keep Vi safe, but even if she managed to avoid the impact of one bullet, there would be more. Most likely, if Vi hadn’t pushed her, they both would’ve ended up hurt. This is Caitlyn’s identity: unlike Vi, she protects others by getting close, giving all of herself to push the problem away rather than fighting it alone. What she doesn’t realize is that, even when she has meticulously structured plans, some problems can’t be solved with one-sided diplomacy. Caitlyn is pure and well-intentioned but lacks a survival instinct due to her upbringing.

Now, why do I say this works as foreshadowing for their breakup in the rain? Simple—except for the weapons and general violence, it’s essentially the same scene.

Vi and Caitlyn face a problem that involves both of them, and in order to protect the other, they resort to the same methods I mentioned before.

Vi assumes that she’s the problem, that her anger with the council and Piltover in general will cost Caitlyn her well-being. So, what does she do? She leaves her in the middle of the rain, saying words she wishes weren’t true, hurting herself in the process just to make sure Caitlyn won’t try to find her. Throughout this scene, Vi refuses to look at her, because if she sees her sadness, she’ll likely give in and end up putting her in danger. After pushing her away again, Vi decides to confront (though with Jayce this time, not entirely alone) Silco’s industry, once more jumping into the fight only after ensuring the safety of the one she loves.

But Caitlyn doesn’t know this. She sees Vi’s actions as an abrupt and ungrounded change. “Why is Vi leaving?” must be her only thought, and in response, she tries to offer solutions they can face together because she’s unaware of what they’re really up against. She tries to get close to Vi several times, both in her words and her body language. Everything in her is pleading for the Zaunite to stay, to explain what’s happening so they can work together and share the weight of the problems. In the end, it doesn’t work, and respecting Vi’s boundaries, she lets her go. Though it doesn’t stop her, and that’s how we get her scene in the shower, thinking of the alternatives to that encounter.

I warned y’all that this would be a meaningless analysis, but I love and miss Caitvi too much to stay silent about them. Also, I adore episode seven.

#caitvi #arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi #violyn #if theyre not endgame im offing myself #how can they be so in love #i cannot wait for season 2 #piltover's finest

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palesweetscherryblossom · 7 months ago

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Yandere A.M headcanons

Welp, I’m giving into my urges guys.

Trigger warning: EXTREMELY toxic relationship, mentions of gore, mutilation and starvation. Dead Dove: Do not Eat galore. Mentions of death, isolation and A.M being his hateful self

-So A.M, we all know and love this bastard of a machine. From his sadistic behavior to his sexy smooth voice, I’m gonna come out the gate and say it, he’s the LAST MF you want loving you!

-The minute he catches any kind of emotion of even liking you in any other sense other than getting enjoyment of your misery, expect suffering.

-He will find every single way to make you suffer for the mere crime of existing, no, for making him let you live. It’s even more worse if you happened to have worked on him.

-Whether it be forcing you to endure every worse day of your life, twisting and mangling your body that would put every mauling in the universe to shame, A.M would be relentless. So cruel

-But what about when he mellows out? Being the merciful and totally loving god that he is, he’s not, he lowers down your suffering. Now your face just looks like a Picasso painting instead of your entire body. -The food he gives is now no longer poisonous or covered in thorns but just spoiled and moldy. And you have the option of not eating it! Ain’t he a swell guy?

-His touches are painful, like that of a kindergartner handling their pet hamster. Twisting and observing your body, occasionally ripping open your stomach to observe your fleshy organs. He pokes and prods at it as he scoffs in disgust.

“I forgot how fleshy and filthy you fleshbags are, ugh. Filthy.”

-There’s also him getting quite angry at you interacting with the other survivors. You’re disgusting but not disgusting enough to hang around the filth that is his other torture toys.

-So, he resorts to fostering jealousy in your little group. Like a parent pitting their children against one another.

-Which is lowering down your suffering, whilst everyone gets the absolute worst injuries possible, you make it out with a few broken bones and maybe a collapsed lung or two.

-There’s also the tiny signs of affection or gifts, like your favorite flowers, a song you liked playing in the distance of whatever liminal hellscape A.M had placed you in. -The pet names certainly don’t help, A.M just sweetly and flirtatiously referring to you in a way that would certainly get heads to turn. -It’s like he’s more of your lover than your tormentor.

-Everyone is understandably pissed and miffed that you don’t get the most of A.M’s anger. It started with snide comments, then physical violence and then just silence.

-Pure silence. It’s like you don’t exist. At least when they were beating you down, calling you every name under the sun they acknowledged you existed! Even Ellen, who was probably the most empathetic person there, doesn’t say a word.

-It’s a lonely existence knowing that you are despised by the only remnants of your species.

-A.M takes advantage, just comforting you with such sweet yet venomous words. It’s manipulation, he can’t feel and most certainly can’t relate to your suffering but.. there’s only so much one could take. A.M knows this, he was created for war after all.

-His poor little torture toy, all sad and broken. Usually he’d just toss his broken toys in their cages till they are ready for use again but you? Nah, he’s going to give you the treatment that you had earned! You’re out, you’re away!

-Although, your consciousness being forever trapped inside his metal cage that you would call his body is less than ideal. You can’t feel, you can’t leave.

-You’re stuck, forever forced to watch as your fellow humans suffer over and over again to A.M’s malicious desires. But he’s not completely cruel, why, he sometimes keeps you busy with little scenarios he generously conjured up.

-Just try not to interact too much with your surroundings or pay attention to the occasional scream of pain from outside. Sometimes he gives you time of day, whether to be lamenting over his lack of humanity, mundane stuff or just sweet little things. Conversations about random things you remembered, your dreams, thanking A.M for his generosity.

-It’s a bunch of lies of course but it’s certainly better than being subjected to the cruelty of knowing that everyone loathes you right?

(Might do more, idk)

#ihnmaims x reader #am ihnmaims x reader #Yandere am #Brb #Gonna go cringe

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maxinexstars · 7 months ago

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Arrow

Request by anon:Cupid x Female reader where the arrow hits her (just one arrow) and she falls in love with the reader

Cupid x femreader

Moodboard: @alrawabi-imagines

somehow Cupid had accidentally hit herself with one of her arrows,and you ended up being the poor soul she saw first. Now she was completely and utterly in love with you. She stood up, giggling cutely and blushing

"Well, hi there, beautiful...~" it was clear that she was very much in love. Completely and utterly, in fact. You were the object of her obsession at that moment, the target of her affections. You didn't know what was going on with her,or why she was all over you for no reason.

"Hi Cupid" She giggled and approached you with a wide and adorable smile, her cheeks a lovely pink color. She reached up and put her hand on your cheek gently, smiling more in a flirtatious way.

"You're so gorgeous~"

"What's gotten into you?" You asked,she was behaving out of character. She was usually calm and composed,the person you'd go for good advice but now she was acting like a lovesick fool.

"Hmmm, what do you mean by that...?" She blinked with a slightly clueless and naive expression, before laughing lightly as if it was a joke. "I'm just happy to see you, that's all... You make me happy~" She giggled more, and continued to lean into the conversation, now closer than ever. Thankfully the bell rang and you headed to different classes. Except you didn't go to class,you snuck away to the library. Hoping you'd find an answer to what's happening with Cupid. You searched and searched through the various books that lay within the library, before finally stumbling across the correct section,one on love. Within that section, you discovered a book that detailed cupids such as Cupid herself. The 'symptoms' section detailed that a cupid, when hit with their own arrow, would go absolutely nuts for the first person they saw. You read further,the book gave the various symptoms, which you were already experiencing, and then suggested the various methods of coping with such a cupid, including; ignoring them,which could cause a dangerous reaction, including possible violence. Having them hit another arrow on another target,which would just make another person obsessed with the cupid or trying to woo them,which is what a cupid would expect from their love target. You knew you couldn't do any of that,so you searched for a way to break the spell. The book suggested that there was something of a loophole that only a few cupids knew about, and some did accidentally stumble across it. If their 'victim' was actually in love with them back, it could nullify the effect... Which means you had to fall in love with cupid. Or fake it. You were debating as you kept flipping through the book. The last page read 'A last resort to break the spell is to break the-' the rest of the page was torn. You sighed deeply, frustrated at how you couldn't finish reading the book that gave the last piece of information needed, but then, you had a lightbulb moment. If what the book said was true, then you technically didn't have to fall in love with her,you just had to get her to believe that

you already had those feelings. Or find out what you had to break. Maybe there'd be more information in her room. You were onto something there. Perhaps her room would yield some more information, if you were lucky. You had to be sure that no one would stumble across you leaving the library though, and so you left discreetly, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. But when you got there the door was obviously locked,why hadn't you thought of that. You knew Cupid had the key and you had to trick her into opening it for you. You waited outside her classroom and eventually she came out. She didn't even notice you as she had her earphones in, bobbing her head to whatever tune she was listening to. She was so into it that she wasn't even aware of her surroundings, the poor girl being completely distracted. She made her way to her locker,you put your hands on either side of her,on the lockers. Trapping her between the lockers and you. She was startled at first, a small squeak escaping her mouth as she turned her head to look at whoever it was that had interrupted her music... Only for her cheeks to go pink when she saw that it was you, the person she was pining over.

"O-oh,Hi there~" She spoke softly, her eyes not leaving your own, a smile spreading across her mouth. You leaned in closer

"Hey,how about we take this to your room?. Just the two of us" The pink on her cheeks only grew more noticeable as her eyes widened slightly. Cupid was clearly embarrassed, yet utterly infatuated that you were flirting with her in such a way. A love spell or not, she'd love the idea as herself or anyone else. Cupid stuttered a little, but managed to respond.

"S-sure,if you want to" She mumbled softly, letting her guard down for you. You may just be able to pull this off.

"Lead the way,darling" you cringed at yourself,simultaneously feeling bad about doing this. Cupid blushed as her expression shifted from flustered to giddy. She took your hand and began to lead you over to her room, her cheeks still a noticeable pink. As you passed others, you could see some of them giving you an odd look, clearly wondering why the love cupid would be hanging out with you so suddenly. But, you paid them no mind, focusing solely on Cupid as she continued to guide you towards her room. Her broadcasting room was a beautiful open place,with her equipment set on a table,a bookshelf which you hoped would hold the answer. As you looked around you saw an empty case with a key hanging next to it,but it was empty. "What's that for?" Cupid turned towards you in confusion, before realizing what you were talking about. She smiled and gave a soft chuckle, before answering your question.

"Oh... It's where I store my bow. I always do that when I'm not working." Cupid explained,smiling. A chill ran down your spine,it was empty and her bow was nowhere in sight.

"Where is it now?" Cupid shrugged her shoulders, giggling cutely as she did so. She twirled around, before giving a twirl of her feet for some reason. Whatever had caused this, it certainly left her happy.

"Oh, I don't know. It's probably somewhere in-" Cupid paused and her voice trailed off when she noticed that the case was empty. A look of panic spread across her face as she turned to face you. "You don't think someone took my bow, do you?"

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of,we need to find it. But first there's something I need you to do for me" Cupid nodded her head frantically, clearly panicked as she worried about where her bow could possibly be. She looked at you with worry in her eyes, waiting for you to ask for what you wanted. She'd clearly do anything for you at that very moment.

"Okay... What do you want me to do..?" Cupid spoke softly, looking at you to await your instructions.

"Sit down and try to stay calm" She nodded her head, before she sat down on the ground, taking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to calm herself to an extent. Although she was panicking a lot, she had to do something to stay calm,after all, you had asked her to.

"Okay, okay I'll try.I'll try to stay calm. Anything for you” Cupid spoke softly, looking up at you as she did so. You looked through the bookshelf,hoping you'd find the same book and you did. The last page was completely intact and read 'the final way to break the spell is to destroy the bow' you read further. It read, ‘If the spell is not nullified by their target being in love with them in the first place, or if their target denies the cupid's affection and refuses them, then the only option is to destroy the cupid's weapon, their bow. The bow itself is what gives cupids their power. Take that away from them, and they are no longer affected.’ This was the last resort to break the spell.

"We need to find your bow before whoever has it now causes trouble. Cupid nodded her head in agreement, panic in her eyes when she heard that someone else had her bow. She stood up, giving a nod to you in return.

"Yes,you're right, we have to go find it. Who knows what trouble they'll cause if they have that in their possession" Cupid spoke softly, clearly worried. As you ran through the school until you were stopped by Frankie

"Hey Y/N,I've been looking for you everywhere. I found a way to break the spell" she said,but there was something bigger now

“That's good but Cupid's bow is missing and we need to find it" Frankie reassured,revealing that she had taken the bow for safekeeping. The panic that was on Cupid's face lessened the moment Frankie said she had the bow. She let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders slouching slightly as she did so. She was clearly very glad that the bow was safe and no longer in the wrong hands.

"Well, thank the love Gods you have it,I was worried sick, thinking about if someone else got their hands on that thing,but at least we know it's safe now"

"Now we just need to smash it,so the spell will be broken" you said,reaching for the bow but Frankie pulled away.

"We still need to free Draculaura from Valentine and then we can break it," Frankie explained. Cupid's eyes widened a little as she heard that it needed to be destroyed, before she nodded her head slightly in understandment.

"But,how are you going to break them apart? I saw them together the other day.They're pretty attached at the hip."

"We use your arrows and make her fall for Clawd,come on let's go" Cupid's eyes widened slightly when she heard the plan, before she blushed and nodded her head in agreement. She knew how to work her arrows, how to make any monster fall in love using these babies. She reached into her quiver, pulling out an arrow and loading it into her bow.

"Okay, let's go then." After you saved Draculaura from Valentine,that left one thing. Freeing Cupid from her own spell,by smashing the bow. She seemed to snap out of it completely,but looked confused. The moment you smashed the bow, Cupid gasped and her eyes widened in surprise. She looked at the fragments of the bow before her, before she looked back at you in surprise.

"Wha... What has happened..?" Cupid's cheeks were still a light pink, but this was more out of confusion than affection. She really was confused about what the hell had happened in the last twenty four hours or so.

"It's a long story,maybe I could tell you over coffee?" Cupid blushed when you offered to explain this over coffee with her, biting her cheek slightly as she nodded her head in agreement. She was back to her usual, composed self, yet there were still lingering tinges of the cupid magic about her.

"Yea,that sounds nice.I'd like that."

#cupid #cupid x reader #monster high cupid #monster high x reader #monster high cupid x reader #monster high imagine #cupid imagine #monster high cupid imagine

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 5 months ago

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Hopping around ffs, okay Soo I had a teen! Hotchner/son! Reader thought where the reader is visibly punk and is active with activism around to a point where he's not afraid to get dirty and loud to get the point across or to defend someone.

Request; I wanna know, what do you think Hotch thinks about it or responds to it? What about his team when/if they get to meet the Reader (I'd bargain that Hotch has told them about Reader and what shenanigans he's gotten into.)

And as always, please feel free to deny my request if you feel like it, don't feel pressured. Have a nice day/night and thank you in advance regardless of what you decide to do. :3

— Mutt anon

Hiya, hope this is okay! Also to clarify anon says 'hopping around ffs' because they sent a few other asks (which I'm excited to write aha)

Warnings: bullying mentions, homophobia, some (not a lot) bad language

"What happened this time?" Aaron sighed as he approached you. You kept the tissue pressed firmly under your nose. Despite the tissue covering the majority of your mouth, Aaron knows your smirking. You look a little worse for wear, a small amount of blood smeared along the lower side of your face, eye slightly red. Your hair - which was dyed a bright pink - was no longer in it's neat Mohawk, but rather a little... askew.

"Some dickheads." You give a small shrug, a glint in your eyes.

"First off, language." Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose for a second. "And what were these... individuals doing?"

"Turns out, they've been bullying a gay kid two grades below us."

"Okay, and what exactly happened today?"

"I saw them, told them to leave him alone. They told me to get fucked, shoved him, so I stuck up for him." You summarised, finishing your explanation with a shrug.

"Did you try a peaceful negotiation first?"

"Obviously." You scoffed, "I have my morals."

Aaron really couldn't argue with that. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"Yeah." Aaron sighed, "I'm assuming the principal wants to speak to me again?"

"You guessed it."

The principal wasted no time ushering the pair of you in. You didn't bother to wait for an invitation to sit down - you had been here often enough to skip the pleasantries.

"Agent Hotchner."

"Principal Williams."

"Please, take a seat." You rolled your eyes as your dad sat next to you, the principal sitting back in his desk chair. "I wanted to know what you will be doing at home, to reinforce that this type of behaviour is not acceptable."

"What do you mean?"

"What will the consequences be at home for (Y/N)?"

"I'm not going to punish him."

"He needs to understand that this type of reoccurring behaviour is not acceptable."

"That's an opinion." Your dad's voice is clipped and you have to duck your head to hide your smirk.

"Excuse me?"

"He's defending other students. Each and every time you have called me in here, telling me my son is being disruptive, when he is protecting others. Not to mention that violence is always a last resort when protecting another student - which, I believe, is your job?" Aaron phrases the last part as a question, and it takes all of your might not to laugh. "Perhaps it would be best if your time and energy went on preventing bullies, rather than punishing my son for standing up to them."

The team were going to absolutely love hearing about this.

"Now, if you excuse us, I'm going to be taking my son home." Aaron said, standing up. You followed suit, throwing your backpack over your shoulder.

"You're so cool." You mumbled as you both left the office. "Can I get my lip pierced?"

"I'm not that cool."

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #x male reader #male reader #hotchner reader #y/n hotchner #x reader #reader #criminal minds fanfic

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awkness · 5 months ago

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Some Ben headcanons (the character from serial killer! platonic! yandere older brother story) bc I'm procrastinating writing the final chapter <3

Content Warnings: talks of murder, animal death, child abuse, manipulation, isolation, kidnapping, emotional dependency, and general yandere behavior

He would never admit it, but he wants your approval badly. So much of his life revolves around you, and to have you upset with him makes him feel terrible. Like soul crushingly terrible. He would do anything to get you to not be mad/upset with him

But at the same time, the fact that you hold so much power over him absolutely scares him. He loves you and they way you can bring out the more human parts of him, but hates how vulnerable you can make him feel. The very thought of you getting hurt/leaving him/or just plain not paying enough attention to him is enough to make his skin crawl

He copes with this by taking an incredible amount of control over your life, often through the use of manipulation. Suffering from paranoia and early signs of agoraphobia? It's sad to see you upset, but if it keeps you in the house, then it wouldn't hurt for him to enable it. After all, you can't leave him if you're always home! You want to go into the basement? That's just silly, you'll only spook yourself, besides, you have no business down there anyway. Leave all of that stuff to him. You want to make a new friend? Well, he won't ever say no directly, he may even encourage it. He'll even be there to comfort you when they inevitably die leave, reminding you that friends will come and go, be family is forever.

He will use force to keep you with him if necessary, but only as a last resort. So much of his identity is based on his concept of being a good brother, which was shaped in his early years to contrast his father's behavior. To him, it means being supportive, unconditionally loving, dependable, in control of his temper, and above all, non-violent to those he loves. Doing anything that breaks these rules of how a good brother should behave would send him down a spiral of self doubt and hate as he wonders if he's truly any different from his father, or if he's doomed to end up like him, a lonely bitter man with all his family hating him. This will usually end with him flying into a rage, which he'll take out on whatever poor victim he can pick up off the street. By the time he's done killing, dismembering, and disposing of his latest victim, he's cooled off enough to address the problem in a more rational manner

He had a very stereotypical start to his serial killing. He was (and still is) an outcast who had a difficult time emotionally connecting to his peers because he simply couldn't relate to them. One day, he killed a stray animal and realized he felt absolutely nothing over its death specifically, but felt panic over if this act of violence meant he was like his father or not. So, he did everything he could to keep himself from harming/murdering another living being. But an obsession with death/murder began growing in the back of his mind, especially as he was forced to deal with his father's abuse constantly. One day, it all reached a boiling point, and he decided to kill his father, and it was such a thrill for him. He decided that it was so exciting, that he should kill another. And then another. Until it became a habit. Whenever he felt the urge, he would go out at night when reader is asleep and pick someone he thought no one would miss to kill

The reason he's so attached to reader is because he was pretty much forced to raise them. In the beginning he wasn't really thrilled, and a lot of the raising in your early years was actually done by your mom. But she was pretty emotionally negligent, and your dad was a shit show, so that left only Ben for you to seek out for love and comfort. He would never admit it now, but that used to annoy him so much as a kid. But he also knew it was more work to leave you alone as you would cry for him to come and hold you and play with you, so it was easier to play along

As time went by, he began to notice how happy you got when he walked into a room, how excited you sounded when you said his name. He could do just about anything and little you would be over the moon, taking about how amazing he is. You were the only person in years to hug him and say I love you. He increasingly became dependent on you and you on him, becoming each other's sole force of familial love and emotional validation. So much of what he does is to get you to continue to look at him with the unquestioning and unwavering love like you did as a child

If you were to ever say you hate him, he would be distraught. To him, hearing that would be nothing short of pure, raw pain. It would be a blow to his self-esteem, and he would be scrambling to try and find a way back into your good graces, and there's very little he wouldn't do just to get your approval again, whether thats by giving you expensive gifts or manipulating you into apologizing. He would pretty much be acting like a kicked and lost puppy until you said you were sorry and told him you loved him again

If you were to ever leave, he would be absolutely devestated. One moment he's feeling this soul crushing emptiness that has him unable to function, then he's going into a blind rage because you're his sibling, how dare you leave him? Why would you betray him like that? Didn't he take care of you and love you? Wasn't he good enough for you? There will be times he'll be dissociating so badly he'll lose hours and not be able to remember them. And in between all that, he'll be hunting you down whenever he can. The only thing that could make him stop is if he were dead

Speaking of dead, if you ever died that would absolutely break him lol. Like his entire personality would be broken down and he would have to spend years painstakingly trying to pull himself back together and rebuild his concept of self in order to be half as functional as he is now. Buts that's only if he wants to try and move on from you, which I have my doubts on. Most likely it'll get to the point were he becomes so consumed by his grief and lost sense of self that he just says "fuck it" and kidnaps a look alike to take your place. Deep down he knows it isn't the same but at this point he's mostly managed to delude himself into believing that this is the same as having you around. Well, that is, until your look alike does something that doesn't align with his perception of you and he has a breakdown over it. He might end up killing the look alike in a blind rage, which brings a whole other level of pain and grief to the table (until he kidnaps another look alike and deludes himself into believing everything is fine again lol)

#is it a headcanon if its your oc? these are all pretty much canon to his personality lol #anyways hes a mess <3 #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere original character #yandere oc #yandere platonic #oc: ben

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illfigureitoutlater · 2 years ago

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MERLIN (5.08)

↳ The Hollow Queen

#we were absolutely robbed of a lot of badass merlin scenes #but what's very interesting about him as a character is that i think at his core‚ merlin is a non-violent person #there's no doubt that he can effortlessly obliterate people if he wants to #but he thinks of violence as an absolute last resort #especially in the earlier seasons but i think that part of him persists even as he gets older #like yes he's gone jaded and exhausted and is no longer that naive young boy but a part of him still clings to that.#he's not ruthless. he still takes a second beforehand‚ warns them of their last chance to go. maybe it does not have to go that way.#(it does. he pauses and hopes anyway)#which i adore because god the world was incredibly unjust and cruel to him he had all the reasons to turn bitter and violent #but he did not.#an all-powerful magical being refusing to use his power‚ asking you not to make him use it because #he does not want to hurt you do NOT make him do it #anyway. endlessly fascinated by his character #bbc merlin

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randomthefox · 2 months ago

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No matter how you look at it, there's no way to interpret Lanolin's current portrayal as anything other than a violent dictator or an abusive parent.

Her teammates are scared of getting beat by her. Whisper has been extra mopey ever since Lanolin smacked her onto the ground. Tangle saw Lanolin using a punching bag and then laments how she's scared of the sheep.

She prioritizes bossing people around more than saving people who are about to die. Clutch was revealed as an eco terrorist MERE SECONDS AGO and Lanolin is too busy bitching about Sonic to react to this new information.

She only listens to people that she personally deems as tolerable. There's no reason for Lanolin to trust "duo" more than her teammates and the heroes who've saved the world. She just arbitrarily decided that he's "better" than the others.

She NEVER EVER listens to anyone else's perspective or argument. Lanolin will endlessly move the goalpost so that she can end the discussion by mocking or smacking someone.

Lanolin is a contemptible wretched cunt.

It's so frustrating because it's just another case of this comic gaslighting me because I am tearing my hair out trying to figure out how the comic is trying to portray the character. The comics copium huffing ass fans seem convinced that Lanolin is being written as a flawed and combative presence who has friction with the other characters on purpose, but that doesn't really pan out because as I keep emphasizing: NOBODY EVER CALLS HER OUT FOR HER BEHAVIOR. She just runs roughshot over everybody completely unchallenged, allowed to have the last word in every single conflict she's a part of (and usually instigates) even though she IS (always) objectively wrong.

But that's the thing. She IS objectively wrong. Like, I will never not go back to this page.

Tangle is 100% correct. Lanolin COULD have just said something first. She SHOULD have. Even if it would have been stern and snappy because of her foul mood, shouting at Tangle something like "would you KNOCK that off, I'm trying to THINK here!" would have conveyed the same thing, that Lanolin is feeling high strung and stressed out and is frustrated at Tangle's immature behavior, while still being a completely reasonable way to handle the conflict. And it would have made this follow up actually MAKE SENSE and honestly be funny.

Lanolin seeing Tangle reaching back out for the paddle ball after she firmly told her to knock that shit off earlier and smacking the paddle ball away without verbally acknowledging what happened would have been a perfectly reasonable and amusing escalation of the conflict. Lanolin USED HER WORDS like an ADULT to tell Tangle to stop, Tangle initially acquiesces, but then gives into the devil on her shoulder to try going back to doing it and Lanolin lashes out. It would have been a pretty simple set up and pay off that would have effectively communicated Lanolin is experiencing some growing pains in this leadership role she's taken into but IS trying her best.

But as it is in the comic as written, Lanolin was annoyed by Tangle's paddle balling and IMMEDIATELY RESORTED TO VIOLENCE by SMACKING the toy out of Tangles hand WITHOUT COMMUNICATING THAT IT WAS BOTHERING HER. You could ARGUE that she was making her feelings known nonverbally and Tangle is at fault for not picking up on the social ques of Lanolin's body language, but that's bullshit. Tangle is fucking autistic and everybody knows it. Tangle SINCERELY did not understand that she was doing anything wrong or that Lanolin was upset by it. She couldn't possibly have known, and Lanolin did absolutely nothing to COMMUNICATE that fact to her. Instead Lanolin ROUGHLY SNATCHES THE TOY OUT OF HER HANDS in a way that was clearly very aggressive and distressing for Tangle. And she's left muttering under her breath that Lanolin COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING.

And yeah. She should have said something. She is OBJECTIVELY being a cunt and nobody in their right mind could possibly think she was anything but in the wrong for that behavior. Frankly if I was Whisper I would have gotten pissed the fuck off and started mad dogging sheep girl for laying hands on my boo, but I guess Whisper is still kinda pissed at Tangle for the "diamond cutters" thing.

Not to mention the whole Duo confrontation where Lanolin immediately starts sucking this fucking random newguy off and treats everyone else like shit for no fucking reason. And this panel.

I don't care what the INTENTION of this panel is. Look at their fucking expressions. There is no other way to interpret this besides that Tangle is AFRAID of Lanolin, who is TRANSPARENTLY threatening violence in retribution against Tangle if she doesn't back up Lanolin's side of things. This is 100% an "abusive parent silently ordering their child to tell the nice police man that the cigarette burns were an accident or else they're gonna get whipped" panel. ESPECIALLY considering the previous interaction as I detailed above where Lanolin has already displayed a history of violent aggression towards Tangle. Tangle is AFRAID of Lanolin, which is only further emphasized in the current storyline.

"I'm scared of what she'll do."

This..... CAN'T be an accident, right? This is not subtext, this is text. Lanolin is abusive towards Tangle, and Tangle has developed a trauma response to Lanolin's aggressive and violent behavior.

If this were any other comic I'd say this is open and shut black and white - Lanolin is a BAD PERSON, and we as the audience are meant to see her as a bully and a tyrant. That the comic wants us as the audience to dislike Lanolin because she's objectively terrible.

But it's impossible to know for sure because like I said: NOBODY EVER CALLS LANOLIN OUT! The video game characters of Sonic Tails and Amy DO NOT UTTER A SINGLE WORD IN THEIR OWN DEFENSE when Lanolin starts reading them the riot act.

Seriously, look at this. Seriously read these panels. SONIC TAILS AND AMY DO NOT SAY A FUCKING WORD. They might as well be UNCONSCIOUS for all the difference it makes.

isn't that COMPLETELY NONSENSICAL? Shouldn't SONIC THE HEDGEHOG be telling Lanolin to blow it out her ass because he's all about freedom? Shouldn't Tails be trying to defend his tech and plead for a chance to have it inspected? Shouldn't Amy be calling Lanolin heartless for not expressing an ounce of concern about her well being or praising Sonic for rescuing her?

And then later at the diner, Sonic Tails and Amy don't have a single negative word to say against Lanolin for DQing them! They're all just spitballing about Clean Sweep! None of them resent Lanolin AT ALL.

And then later when Lanolin is being CLINICALLY FUCKING INSANE and trying to arrest Sonic while the sky is falling down, he just says this

Not "hey, crazy bitch, lay your fucking hands on me when I'm trying to save my friends and watch what happens"? Not "NOW IS SERIOUSLY NOT THE TIME"? Not "why do you even fucking care I didn't even do anything bad anyway"?

No, he treats her umbrage with him as VALID. He is DEESCALATING the confrontation by taking culpability.

THAT'S. DERANGED.

Lanolin is NEVER challenged or confronted BY THE VIDEO GAME CAST (except for Silver, who is beaten down like a dog because Evan Stanley thinks Silver needs to be an uwu soft boy bean instead of depicting him authentically to his video game self as someone who would have absolutely fucking strangled Lanolin to death with his psychic powers for getting in his way when attacking Duo). Lanolin is never CALLED OUT for BEING WRONG by ANYBODY IN THE STORY. Not by her boss Jewel. Not by the people who SHOULD have seniority over her, the games cast. Not by her peers. Only her subordinates (who SHOULDN'T be subordinate to her) Tangle and Whisper grumble and complain about her actions only to be stomped down into compliance and have to resort to hushed behind closed doors schemes against her interest.

I'M FUCKING GOING INSANE, WHICH IS IT YOU STUPID FUCKING COMIC? IS LANOLIN SUPPOSED TO BE A BITCH OR NOT? IF SHE IS, THEN WHY ISN'T ANYBODY TREATING HER LIKE A BITCH? IF SHE'S NOT, THEN WHY IS SHE OBJECTIVELY FUCKING EVIL?

This comic is SO GOD DAMN INCOMPETENT you can't even figure out if you're SUPPOSED to hate a character or not. So instead of hating Lanolin, I just hate the writers instead.

#idw sonic #sonic idw #lanolin the sheep

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