#and you have these guys take it as a threat ‘ omg you think women are stupid ‘

[iceyrukia]

Posting for these tags.

Guys is it unfemininist to consider that women have been socialized and groomed for over a millennia under the patriarchy into harmful practices in order to get validation from the male dominated society that we live in ?? Are we out of line for caring about the safety of women???

[scoobysnakz]

1950's greaser Miguel 😭 that's that

a/n: i had something like this in my drafts i was so happy omg 😭 also im so sorry this took so long i ended up falling down several rabbit holes around 50’s culture for no reason whatsoever. idk how to feel abt this it’s rushed and not proof read at all!!! so sorry for any dumb mistakes

warnings: none really except maybe threats of violence and very poorly written angst bc i just cant handle it.

everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. but you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

your ignorance to their advice doesn’t do much, though, because as much as you pretend, they’re right. he knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

so why would he give you- the gut-wrenchingly awkward waitress at the diner him and his friends flood after work- the time of day ?

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It's a peacefully slow day at the diner, booths just as empty as the tip jar and the counter bell unrung.

This would be the perfect opportunity to relax, count the cars passing by and try to work out if you can afford takeout for tea, but you are stuck talking to some random guy.

He's sweet enough, fairly attractive, and a large tipper. Hopefully, things don't get too difficult.

"So then I said to my buddy, Clarence. Y’know Clarence, sweetheart? Comes here twice a week with his wife on Tuesdays and then comes on Saturdays with his… lady friend?"

You internally grimace at his words. Your smile falters slightly but you fight to keep that forced, hospitality smile plastered on your face.

If working at this grimy diner has taught you anything it's that people like him don't want to see a strand of emotion other than flattery at their crude compliments.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question, darling.”

Your gaze snaps back to him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Do. You. Know. Clarence?" he sounds much gruffer now, more stern.

Panicked, you shake your head a quick no.

You do know Clarence and he is even more pushy than this guy, always taking a not-so-conspicuous glance at your chest, 'accidentally' groping your ass.

Somehow, he knows you're lying and his expression hardens. "Don't lie to me, m'kay? I asked you a simple question and all you have to do is answer it for me."

The way his words are so slow to pass through his thin, leathery lips makes your stomach form knots.

You glance around the diner but there's no one else there, the very few people who had been there left the moment he came in.

Is there something you don't know? You've been working here for just over a month and you thought you knew all the inside secrets, the customers to flirt with to get the big tip, who to give extra sugar too because they're too nervous to ask for it themselves, which families will clean up after themselves. Obviously not.

The sticky brown tables are lined with half-eaten meals and a few bills that people left behind before running off.

You can hear the stove humming lowly in the kitchen and the man's heavy breathing accompanying it.

"I don't know who Clarence is, sir." your tone matches his, harsh and unwilling. It's nine forty-five on a Saturday and all you want is five minutes of sleep. "So either order something or leave. It's company policy.” you pick up a creased piece of laminated paper that says pretty much what you did but in a much more formal narrative.

His face contorts into a snarl as he glares at you, lips curling and nostrils flaring in a way that immediately makes you regret your sudden surge of confidence.

"You're lucky I don't hit women," he mutters under his breath.

Those words alone are enough to make your skin crawl. It's a threat, a cleverly disguised one, but a threat all the same.

"I'll ask one more time, sweetie. Do you know Clarence?" his voice is painfully condescending. Under different circumstances you would have chewed his ear off.

Before you get a chance to snap back at him the bell chimes as someone else enters the diner. You thank God, and whoever else is up there with him, that you are no longer alone.

It's a regular- Peter. You flash an uneasy smile, willing him to get the hint.

His mousy brown hair hangs flat on his head, a few strands wrapped around his daughter's pudgy fingers. Lazily, he turns to face you, eyes narrowing as he takes in your nervous expression.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We're fine, get your coffee and go.”

It takes him a second, round brown eyes darting between the two of you before he sucks in a sharp breath and nods his head.

Peter knows he isn't intimidating, painfully the opposite. It’s almost impossible for him to come across as anything other than naïvely friendly… perhaps a little agitating, though. There's never a moment where a charismatic grin isn't etched into his thin, rosy lips or an awkward joke said to ease the tension. According to him, it’s his Achilles heel.

Hurriedly, he excuses himself and Mayday and pushes his chair away from the counter before stumbling out the door. Your eye twitches with slight irritation but you push past it; there’s no point staying angry with Peter when he didn't have any obligation to ‘save’ you.

Smirking, the man looks at you. It’s just the two of you now.

You know you shouldn't have begged to take the closing shift alone. You had assumed you’d keep all the tips, get to clean up with whatever music you like playing and have some downtime before trudging through the busy New York streets. And now you know how idiotic it was to think that.

“Hey, bebita.” the shrill sound of the bell doesn't do anything to dampen obnoxiously loud entrance.

You drag your gaze over to the source of the tall shadow that’s blanketing the top of the sticky, wooden counter. It takes you no time at all to recognise that sturdy build and dark heap of slicked-back curls.

Your eyes scrunch as your lips utter a silent thank you to God for freeing you from the burden of this creep and a little less grateful plea to get rid of Miguel as soon as possible.

Don't get it wrong, you couldn't be happier someone has come to rescue you from whoever this balding weirdo is but you might be a little more giddy with glee if it wasn't Miguel. It’s not that he's a bad guy or anything but things can get a little tense between people when one of them stands the other one up.

Miguel slides onto one of the stools next to the man, who is now looking considerably less confident now that there's a 6’9 man sitting next to him.

“Can I get a coffee, please,” he orders with an awkward curve of his lips that doesn't quite form a smile.

“She’s busy right now, might want to go someplace else, lad,” the stranger says with a nod towards the door, almost trying to act pally with Miguel. But he knows better than that- surely.

You can see Miguel’s jaw tensing from the corner of your eye but you brush past it, finding amusement in his irritation.

“You know how I like it, black, no sugar,” he says before turning his attention back to the man.

You make your way down to the other end of the counter where the coffee pot sits, encompassed by splodgy brown rings stained into the wood. You wonder how long you can stay down here, how many excuses you can come up with before one of them grows weary and snaps.

The wash cloth is still damp, you know it is because you wiped everywhere down at least fifty times whilst waiting for your unwanted visitor to leave. You begin to scrub the battered wood again, trying in vain to remove the surplus of coffee stains that you know won’t budge.

It’s not even late and you’re exhausted. Just the thought of getting on the train has your eyes growing heavy and shoulders sagging. And now, you have to deal with two of the most irritating people to exist.

“Hurry up with his coffee, we have things to talk about!”

You whip your head around, eyes narrowed with spite and lips parted to spew whatever crude insult spills out first but Miguel beats you to it.

“What?” he scoffs.

“She’s taking forever, acting like we have all the time in the fucking world!”

Without any hesitation, Miguel is up, towering over the balding reprobate. His expression is calm, surprisingly, but the slight clench of his jaw can't hide from your watchful gaze. You’re tempted to intervene, cautious of the mess Miguel’s infamous outbursts leave behind, but this loathsome man getting put in his place is more than worth it.

“Apologise.”

The man swallows, yellowing eyes widened with panic. On his own, the man is intimidating. He’s taller than you and it’s easy to tell he works out but he's no Miguel. Side by side, he looks like an influenza-ridden Victorian child whilst Miguel continues to stand proud, attracting all attention like a pompous black hole.

His chapped lips move but no intelligible words come out, just a serious of worthless splutters and squeaks.

Miguel rolls his eyes. “Apologise to the lady. Now.”

Only silence follows. Silence so soft and crisp you swear you can hear the snowflakes falling on the dirtied pavements outside before they instantly melt away. That’ll be fun walking home in.

“Por dios,” Miguel groans, “You have one last chance, tell her you’re sorry or I’m dragging you out and telling everyone how much of an uneducados, baboso bastardo you are!”

“I-i only understood bastardo,” the man stammers and you just about manage to muffle the chuckle that bubbles in your chest.

“Getting kicked out it is,” Miguel sighs.

You watch through amused eyes as Miguel grabs him by his tattered collar and drags him towards the door. The man continues to protest this, blabbering about how he's more than happy to apologise and that he has friends in high-up places who won't be pleased to hear about this, but Miguel doesn't care.

He chucks him out into the street and you don't even have to see his face to know he’s smirking as the idiot lands flat on his ass because you are too.

The bell chimes his entrance once again, a proud grin on his face as he saunters towards you.

“So?” he questions expectantly.

Pushing past your amusement, you shrug your shoulders.

“I just kicked out some dick head for you and you’re not gonna say anything?”

“He didn't get a chance to pay, so you’re gonna have to cover it.” you flash him a sarcastic smile before picking up the tip jar and pushing it towards him, “and tip.”

His eyes narrow before he pulls out his wallet and behind to leaf through a series of wrinkled tens and twenties before pulling out a fifty. “Treat yourself.”

Again, you offer a forced smile before taking the jar away and opening the register to change the fifty for five tens. Your ears perk at the sound of his exasperated sigh, the corner of your mouth twitching into a grin at his irritation.

“You are so petty you know that, hermosa?”

You slam the register shut, mettle blooming in your chest at the dumbfounded expression on Miguel’s face.

You remain unblinking as you glare at him, not a slither of emotion is present on your face other than pure unbridled spite. You’ve never been able to wrap your head around his confidence. Sure, he's conventionally attractive and can tell you how the reason you never see stars at night isn't because of all the light pollution but because they know they’ll never compare to the grace of your smile or the dazzling beauty of your eyes all in Spanish. But is he really that amazing?

He pulls out a small metal tube from his pocket and pops it open. “Toothpick?” he offers, sliding one between his lips, “cherry flavoured.”

You keep staring disdainfully at him, expression unmoving.

“I’m starting to understand why he was in such a grump,” he mutters to himself, although his eyes are still carefully trained on you, “with service like this, any man would end up in a funk like that.”

That does it. You slam your fists on the tacky counter with a furious groan. You’re so fucking tired, not one single person in this entire rat-filled city has manners, the last thing you need is some self-obsessed playboy messing with your emotions.

Palms stinging , you look back up at him. His eyes are slightly widened but he stays silent, slightly baffled by whatever just happened.

“Get out, Miguel.”

He scoffs and stays where he is, clearly not oblivious to how infuriating he is.

“I’m not joking. Get out.”

His expression falters slightly but again, he simply refuses to move.

“I am so tired of people walking all over me, not an ounce of courtesy or anything. I'm not letting you, of all people, treat me the same.”

Slowly, he stands up, pushing his toothpick holder into his inside pocket.

“Please,” your voice cracks as tears sting the corners of your eyes, “just get out.”

You don't wait to hear the door close before allowing yourself to crumple, head falling onto your folded arms on the counter while unwanted tears trail down your cheeks.

You can’t believe you just broke down that, completely unprovoked. Miguel didn't help but whatever just happened was… it was more than unnecessary it was just plain childishness. How could you have allowed yourself to get so worked up? Normally you’re so collected, and always know how to act, yet the second that cocky idiot is around your emotions run havoc.

Then, your nose breathes in that familiar cedar and menthol smell. Internally, you groan.

“Look, I’m sorry that was out of order,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. It's all well and good being able to apologize for being a dick one time but when you're continuously being a douche the effect tends to wear off.

“How did you even get behind here?” you mumble into your arms.

Ignoring your question, he slowly wraps an arm around your waist. You jump, at first, but allow yourself to relax. It’s nice being held, even if it's awkwardly and by someone you detest.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

What a gentleman.

Sniffling, you lift your head and turn to face him. “I don't have a car, Miguel!” you croak out.

What could pass as either a pout or a thoughtful frown forms on his lips as he stares at you. Whatever it is, it reeks of sympathy that you didn't ask for.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that.”

“No. I’m sorry about before.”

You scoff. It’s like he refuses to listen to you on purpose.

He runs his fingers through his hair, a sigh pushing past his lips. “I’m sorry about not showing up.”

It takes a second or two before you get what he means. You raise your brow, taken aback by his sudden ability to take just enough responsibility to apologize but not enough to actually say what he did. It’s funny, in a way, that it took you having to yell at him and break down crying before it even clicked that he should apologize.

“It’s fine, you were a dick and I got over it.” you lie.

He scowls, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm his apology earned him. He steps a little closer, fingers grazing against your middle. Instinctively, your stomach clenches at the contact but you don't move away.

“That’s… that’s fair.”

You hum in agreement but remain silent.

“Forgot how to speak?” his voice is smooth like velvet but you don't take the bait. You’ve been in this position before, Miguel holding you close, a sudden softness to his demeanour whilst he comforts you. And last time it ended with you crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.

His hand turns your face towards him, thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip. “Que niña tan linda,” he utters.

Your upper lip curls up in disgust and you push him away. You might be exhausted and emotionally distraught but that doesn't mean you don't have common sense.

Something, you’re not quite sure what, flickers across his expression as he bites down on his bottom lip.

Defensively, he holds his hands up and takes a dramatic step away. “Misread the room.”

You laugh. Again, it's not even a proper apology, just something to clear his conscious until he does something equally as idiotic. It would take a miracle for him to give a heartfelt, meaningful apology and you sincerely doubt any miracles are coming his way.

Another awkward silence fills the room. It's not like the one before, though, there’s no fear of death or ill-mannered slobs taking up all thinking space. Just you and Miguel, stood dangerously close while you cumbersomely sniffle away your tears.

You can feel it, Miguel’s intense gaze burning holes into the side of your face. He doesn't look away, just keeps staring at you, unblinking and unmoving.

“Bebita.” you allow yourself to look at him. The harsh, flickering yellow lights hang close to his head and burn the corners of your eyes. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“If you thought so, I wouldn't have been left standing outside the movies for an hour in the rain waiting for you,” you mutter snidely.

Ditching his previous tactics for forgiveness, he groans. “I told you already, I was busy.”

Everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. But you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

Your ignorance of their advice hadn’t done much, though, because as much as you’d pretended, they were right. He knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

And you'd fallen for his flirtatious trap once before. Hook, line and sinker.

You force your gaze away, deciding eye contact with him isn't worth the optical damage that will surely present itself sooner or later.

“You have a house phone, could have called me or the diner, hell- Peter would have been happy to be your little messenger pigeon!” it all comes out at once, a toxic blur of anger and regret that has been burning in your chest since the moment he walked in tumbling out your mouth before you could get a chance to stop yourself. “You are the scum of the earth, Miguel. I hope you know that.”

He lets your words settle in the air, arm slowly retracting from your waist and coming to rest on the countertop. His lips are pursed into a tight line that hides all emotion but the remnants of a frown tug his brown eyes downwards.

“Peter had come out, before, telling me that some creep was in there bothering you.” he glances back down at you, waiting for something other than fury to be represented on your face only to realise his optimism was all in vain and continuing on. “And I thought… maybe if I sort this out for her, she’ll forgive me.”

“You trying to be a good person now doesn't make standing me up okay.” you pause, angling yourself to face him, a sudden wave of sympathy crashing over you at the sight of his shiny eyes. “I forgive you, for now.”

This time, he doesn't even try to hide the pleased smirk on his face. His obnoxiously sharp canines poke proudly over his bottom lip and that ridiculous cocky twinkle is back in his eyes. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging to no end.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

You scrunch your nose and shake your head. “I can't be friends with someone who tips with a fifty, it’s too ironic and tacky.”

He clutches his chest in feigned offence before a low chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest.

You aren't too sure what you are, in all honesty. The two of you had started off as acquaintances, which led to a strange friendship which had snowballed into him kissing you in the kitchen after closing hours before he stood you up on your first proper date. And now you’re both here, laughing even though you’re certain you wanted him dead almost a minute ago.

“Can I try again, then? I want to get it right.”

You shrug, you only live once.

[horizon-verizon]

I'm YOU but I'm crossing my fingers that the Alicole thing is a lie. I can't take the crazy writing decisions of this show anymore!! Can someone in the writing room give consistency to TG?! Certainly the blacks were robbed and diminished but they are also moderately consistent in their writing

I swear I'm crying and pulling my hair, hitting my head to see if a concussion makes any of this make sense. Alicent "you are the threat Aegon", Alicent "OMG they planned an usurpation?!" Alicent "she will kill my children", Alicent "UPS my son killed hers", Alicent "I want his eye", Alicent "Aemond be good to those guys ❤️" Alicent "extramarital sex is bad", Alicent "Cole is the exception". What do you want Alicent?! What do you really believe in?! This goes beyond being hypocritical and using patriarchy to her advantage, What Alicent believes from one chapter to the next changes according to the need of the script. Just give that poor woman some consistency, the cognitive dissonance can't be that strong 😭

If I have to grab Show!Alicent and analyze her motives, what she wants and what she is... I'm left blank. She is a plot device that instead of allowing her to move the plot they kept her locked away and untouchable. She's not nuanced, she's inconsistent.

I can't be bothered, I've long given up on the show. I'm here for memes, article links, the dragons, and enjoying being proven right as obnoxious as that seem or is. To me, this show and its writers have been obnoxious, sexist, and condescending. Sure the dragons will be entertaining if maybe not as colorful as they should be--which might just be a trailer-specific dilution to otherwise make the preimeire that much more visually stunning--but I have a sneaking suspicion the writing will fall too short for other characters or contradict itself again.

Alicole will be just hilarious to me.

But to get into Alicent's character (bc I can't resist):

"OMG they planned an usurpation?!"

I believe it wasn't that they planned a usurpation, but that she was left out of their plans and those plans being to murder Rhaneyra. About the murdering Rhaenyra part, I do look 👀 at her, bc...this is a usurpation and you have already tried to get this women/her kids' lives ruined on multiple occassions or put those kids' lives in danger! Clear inconsistency. However, the fact that these men planned without including her at all is definitely a good thing in terms of her hypocritical characterization--the leopards have eaten her face. It's just her immediate desire to save Rhaenyra out of "love" is some crazy ass bullshit.

Alicent "she will kill my children", Alicent "UPS my son killed hers"

By the 2nd I take it you meant her surprise in how Aemond could have ever killed her kid during an envoy mission before Rhaenrya could try to any of them, thus immediately proving herself/Otto wrong. I'm fine with this actually. Again, describes and paints her hypocrisy, and the problem is that she then continues (by the trailers) try to diminish it as Aemond wanting semi-righteous revenge. To me, despite the whole kin-slaying being a huge cultural no-no, Alicent is also betraying Viserys' and going against his word before Aemond kills Luke. She has always been this way.

Alicent "extramarital sex is bad", Alicent "Cole is the exception".

Same as above. Alicent may make herself-Criston the exception bc she is at least "hiding" her relationship and (MAYBE, if it began after Viserys died) it was not while she was married...as if this would matter to the Andal-Faith patriarchal authorities of womanly behavior and totally save them from their condemnation?! Think of Otto's reaction if he were to know? He would either be as horrified and shocked, or he already knows and keeps mum bc it is towards his benefit but he'd still resent & be disgusted with her or accuse her of being sluttish privately as if he's the paragon of sexual ethics. Again, perfectly shows her hypocrisy.

Really, it's that she doesn't have her bk!counterpart's ruthless politicking except in one episode out of 10 (the 6th one). It's ruined by the implication that she cannot really think or reason bc she was SAed for most of her married life and pimped out, which spells some disturbing, oversimplifying implications for SA victims and esp those who are femme, female identifying, or women/girls. From the already-there notion of femininity being innately "irrational", creative, and nonintellectual.

But I also ultimately agree with you abt her being more a plot device than a character who does what the script of the day requires her---once more, bc she's forced to delusionally see possible friendship in Rhaenyra AND bc she doesn't have a clear, steady, personal motive separate from the stuff Otto-the-individual imparts on her and that guides her actions aside from blind envy and a need to see everyone conform towards the "peace for the realm" that she herself doesn't even follow. Not like with Rhaenyra's desire to find some sort of functioning and the least self-erasing compromise b/t duty and happiness/autonomy when we see her w/Aemma.

We never truly established what Alicent wanted at the core--in the bk, that was the highest rank, prestige, etc. possible for a woman. In the first season, all the possible possibilities and things you can see in Olivia's portrayals show a woman wanting to find final validation within the system...but we needed a more concrete aim aside from her jealousy and other than fear of her kids dying, which is what we were left with. Show!Alicent went wherever the wind took her (the wind here Otto, perceived expectations of her, and her own resentments). That's the heart of the grand inconsistency, I think. The void that is this character.

They never replaced Alicent's loss of ambition with something just as self-serving than just "she should suffer like me" that guides and justifies that inner feeling into the real world. Something that would keep her interesting and engaged with the war players.

Rhaenyra still has huge issues in her characterization that I already went over in other posts. This article by some Substack writer also gets into it, but overall, Rhaenyra is more steady & concrete than Alicent.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Made it through all of Shadow episode 3, and part of 4, then had to take a break.

But damn, this is just such an interesting show to think about. I have so many half-formed thoughts.

So the shadow is not just Dan's sexuality, though it is certainly connected to it. But I'm fascinated by the implication that it first appeared when his parents were fighting (and he was literally hiding in the closet, heh).

And how you can see just the faint suggestion of hands, but in a position that to me feels less threatening and more embracing. Like someone coming to hold you from behind when you're experiencing trauma.

So could the shadow represent Dan's identity in multiple capacities? His sexuality, and struggle with repression, but also his growing awareness of the danger of the world around him. We all have that moment when we realize how dark the world can truly be, when the last rose-colored glass falls away from our childhood eyes.

And then there's this idea from the monk of the past, present, and future, all being separate and parallel yet sometimes intersecting.

I don't know if this is what he was getting at, but it made it seem that essentially there could be ghosts that exist from the future. It makes me think a little bit of The Shining (the novel), and how Danny was actually interacting with his future self. (And omg, his name was also Dan, lol, that just hit me).

But this could be why the monk understands it's about coexistence, because at its core, the shadow is inherently a part of Dan.

With the parents, and the way the father threatened the mother with institutionalization, it just made me think of how this is a form of oppression that has been used against both women and queer people for so much of history. Locking someone away because they dare to want their own lives, or express their own identities, and that's such a threat to those with the power. Chills.

And I already disliked Anurak, but holy hell do I hate him now. He used his position of authority with vulnerable patients to push religion onto them, you KNOW he was part of convincing Dan's mom to "forgive" and return to her abuser, he dismissed her loneliness as something that could be cured by "god", and then after she died, continued to keep hold of and manipulate her son. If Dan doesn't want to forgive his father, that's his right! And Anurak using Dan's dead mother to try and force it is downright fucking horrific. Fuck that guy.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

AYO MODEL ERA MIRA?? CONGRATS!!! Hmu if you ever make one of those subscriptions like Chris Prince I’ll come to your meet and greet (don’t scam me) LMAO

the get possessed part actually has me sending the process is insane LOL im just imagining you getting into the zone like “mmm yes I love flirting with women I am that top dog im a super sexy defender yes that’s me”

IM CRYING THE SHOE THREAT??? Thats literally Barou just throwing the shit Nagi and chigiri left around the floor back in their faces it matches him sm….shoeliver is truly the best duo name ykw is funny when I first typed liver it autocorrected to lover (even though liver is a word….) LMAO truly meant to be

HAAH snuffy the only responsible adult so real no it’s ok mikages stubble grew into that full beard from stress and aging dw abt it yk when you get to the wedding arc you should design wedding invitation graphics (if you want LOL) I bet they’d go hard

STOPP I lowk forgot Nagi’s the love interest for a second uuhbdjsns no swerving no swerving…..but slightly sweaty rolled up sleeves Karasu….but REAL AEGISLASH TAKE ME TOO SHSHSH

Barou’s too underrated people are missing out on his potential omg (and I’m not even talking about in soccer LOL)

Wait speaking of how far are you from 1k rn I lowk forgot…just trying to see the odds of that pokemon event coming true if so I’m fr going to start brushing up

FR what’s worst is the people I see theorycrafting and analyzing saying Nagi’s gonna get kicked out and I’m like are we reading the same series here??? Like GUYS cmon let’s use our brains a little please I’m begging…..I’m crying “I forgot I liked chigiri” LAMOSAOSK yeah it does suck though because a big majority of his fans feminize him like crazy (esp when they ship him with Kunigami and turn him into a damsel in distress) yeah I think the move is just stay away from the crazy twitter side of the fandom LOL

IM GONE THE SPONGEBOB LFMAOAO stop the Barou edits go too hard wtf…but NO PLEASE KEEP THEM COMING LMAOO I appreciate all the content and lowk my fyp lost its way I don’t get much bllk there as I used to so I need this

DHSHSHS FR bro “can I say something controversial” and it’s just straight facts because people are fr just setting themselves up for disaster and like doomposting like guys cmon…..as if we didn’t all survive whatever the hell was going on in jjk s2 animation too (some scenes were so bare bones but we all lived)

SWOLE ERA Barou would be proud first it’s the graphic now this LMAOA out of curiosity what’s your go to routine?

- Karasu anon

YESS MODEL ERA INDEED dw if i do become famous i’ll be like yukimiya and expose scams not create them like chris prince 🤩 jkjk it’s really not for anything huge HAHA so no fame or scamming for me quite yet…tbh i only applied on a whim (i happened to have the photos they required for the application on hand [one of then was my linkedin pfp though icl] so i was like why not) ngl i was surprised when they emailed me back and told me they added me to their book but yk yolo!! might as well try it and see what the vibes are

HELPPP repeating my aiku affirmations while i work on the oaeu…“i am a rizz lord…i hate italian people…women want me fish fear me…i’m the goat” HAHA have to get in the mindset fr

shoeliver my magnum opus number one bllk ship name number one duo etc etc no one can compare!! PLEASEE barou is so mom coded it makes sense i can def see him threatening to throw his shoes at his kids nagi zantetsu chigiri when they’re being annoying/misbehaving HAHAHA

wait wedding invitation graphics would actually go crazy i don’t even think either wedding is ever shown in the epilogue (because of all of the time skipping) but maybe a side story of snuffy just dealing with everyone’s messes at either the tullireo or nagiy/n wedding might be in order sprinkled amongst the epilogue chapters 🤔 either that or i’ll make barou funeral invites but that’s more morbid…

AEGISLASH PLEASE ASSIST KARASU ANON AND I IN GOING ON A DOUBLE DATE W (still alive not possessed) BAROU AND KARASU POKÉMON AU VERSION 😭🙏🏻 nah because the visual is insane karasu’s face card is too lethal…reader’s crazy for not falling in love with him immediately ‼️ like girl you don’t even meet your actual man for an entire arc you’re telling me you don’t have the teensiest crush on karasu until nagi arrives in all of his lazy pajama wearing glory??? /j (mostly abt nagi wearing pajamas he’s a little better than that) nah but me personally the moment i see him taking care of his little baby birds i’m folding LMAOOO karasu with his fletchling would genuinely cause me to malfunction (wait imagine tullia gets him to babysit the pokémon she breeds when he has free time so his alternate clothing style is him in a white t shirt [so we can see his glorious biceps] jeans and a green apron with the black falconer’s gloves as usual and we just get a scene of him walking around bottle feeding a baby pokémon while talking on the phone about official gym business HFJSKSJD i fear i need him)

nah because barou is too underrated for what he brings to the table!! hoping we see a rise in barou nation after s2 as well although if not we’ll def see his non-dude bro fanbase (because lbr all dude bros love barou) expand after nel is animated he looks GORGEOUS in the game against bm!!

i’m like 60ish followers away but randomly the number will go down so i could not tell you how long it’ll take before i reach 1k 😭 i also might post the event a bit early just so people can be prepared for it HAHAHA we’ll see if i even do pokémon!! maybe i’ll end up with smth different who knows i’m very indecisive unfortunately so i probably won’t know until the last minute what i’m going to do

when people think nagi will leave the manga and be kicked out for good i’m like ah yes the character with his own spin-off is definitely the one they’re axing HAHAAH nagi + rin + barou are the only ones besides isagi that i can say for sure will be relevant until the end just because of the nature of their dynamics w isagi and the way their characters are written 😭 NAH BECAUSE I STAY FORGETTING CHIGIRI HIMSELF IS ACTUALLY COOL he can’t help his stans yassifying him/using him as an excuse to hate on other characters…wait also this is a pet peeve of mine but whenever people call chigiri a princess unironically i’m like 😟🤨 because i am 100% sure that the other blue lockers do NOT mean it as a compliment necessarily LMAOAOA like chigiri straight up gets mad when people who aren’t his friends/close teammates call him princess/missy (depending on the translation) i’m pretty sure it’s meant to be an embarrassing/teasing nickname not a nice one (karasu and otoya using it should be MORE than enough proof for that theory)…chigiri official arts have set the fandom back one million years they overly yassfiy him bro is simply NOT like that in the source material!!

THE SPONGEBOB HAD ME CRYINGGG lowkey what if i said me though 🤔 jkjk…unless??? OKAY YAYYY I WILL KEEP SENDING YOU SILLY LINKS AND EDITS HEHEHE today i will offer you a nagi + chigiri edit because it feels thematically appropriate to the convo LMAOO

no because people fr have such rose colored nostalgia tinted glass bruh jjk s2 was lowkey really bad at times too?? truly bllk is not as horrible as everyone is making it seem it honestly in terms of coloring and art style alone has a lot of depth and vibrancy and life i think people need to relax a bit like this isn’t violet evergarden things will not be perfect and that’s okay!! it’ll still be fun if you go into it just to enjoy it for what it is

LMAOO i’ve been going to the gym for a while but i never lift heavy enough to get swole i will leave that for my bfs 🤩 i start off on the treadmill for anywhere from 10-30 minutes depending on what i’m doing…if it’s an answering asks on the treadmill kind of day i’ll go at the 6 incline at a 2.5-3mph pace until i’m done clearing my inbox (usually 30ish mins plus or minus 5) and if it’s a day when i just want to be in and out i do a 15 incline at a 3mph pace for 10-15 mins!! after that i lift weights but nothing crazy/above 50lbs 😭 i’m not trying to be jacked so i’m not trying really hard to hit a PR as long as i feel like i worked out!! some of my fav exercises w weights are squats, romanian deadlifts, and the lateral pull-down machine!! after lifting i’ll do yoga to stretch out the muscles i used that day 😄 i go to the gym like twice a week and then horse riding once a week so i work out in a dedicated way only 3x per week and the rest of my steps come from walking around in general HAHA

[maoist-mizer]

a day in the life on tumblr by maoist-mizer

yes average white liberal middle-class tumblr user spooniebaby69 i totally want to see your 50 posts of vaguely whitewashed/ashy grey fan art of your poor little meow meow character of colour that you find soooo hot that you're compelled to tell everyone in fandom as such. i love it that your interest in POC is inextricably attached to your libido. i love that you don't touch upon any of the racial commentaries in anything ever! i love that you think racial justice begins and ends at you smashing said character together with some other white character in a subpar fanfiction without basic paragraph spacing. the closest you'll get to discussing racism is fantasy racism but even that's too much. forget real-world racism and genocide! the curtains are blue for no reason at all. its incredibly pleasant when you freeze like a deer in the headlights when race is brought up because "fandom is a space free of politics" don't you know, silly? fiction does exist in a vacuum! but also we need more white twinkie bar representation because fiction doesn't actually exist in a vacuum so we need more gay(tm) rep. queer? no, not that. just gay. specifically gay men. no gay women. yes, they're called gay women not 'lesbians' that word just sounds gross. its just personal preference don't take it personally muff diver. omg squee men are so cute! we need more male positivity posts because men aren't loved enough! they're oppressed by the mean angry dyk-- i mean just imagine not finding men attractive lololol here's my favourite male celeb crushes: white guy.png, white guy (1).png, white guy (2).png, and Simu Liu. anyways, its ableist to my autism and adhd and generalised anxiety disorder and depression that you would insinuate that I'm racist. i just don't have the spoons to care about POC! it's so exhausting reading the news. please don't trauma dump to me i have boundaries and one of them is hearing about racism. sorry its not my fault the education system here failed us :( its not my fault that i wasn't taught about imperialism. it's totally not weird that all i care about is writing wincest fics and reporting people's accounts for election fraud for not voting for the better genocidist! now brethren! unleash a thousand death threats on this POC! go my army! go!

anyways! be sure to let me know what i can do to uplift and support POC voices btw ;3c I'm an ally

[francinefoam]

I can't believe I'm dusting off this account to talk about thai bl fandom nonsense. But! as someone who was in the peraya/kristsingto and thai bl trenches back in the olden days of 2017-2019, it's been wild to come back and see the same toxic shipping culture being perpetuated by some of the same people (here's looking at you, miss fuse!) in 20fucking24

I've just read OP's primer on Krist and the homophobia misinformation campaign against him (thanks for doing the work, @thebroccolination!) and I want to add that Krist's character being the "wife" and the bottom in the Kongpob/Arthit pairing played a huge role in the type of harassment Krist continues to face from shippers.

The way some shippers treat Krist is weirdly gendered and sexist, as if he really is the wife or the omega to Singto's alpha. So they expect him to be 100% loyal and "faithful", to protect Singto's reputation, and do all the emotional work in maintaining the kristsingto pairing.

SOTUS became an overnight sensation and the two leads were hounded and stalked and received so much attention they were definitely not prepared or trained for. I don't want to downplay what Singto faced, but if you were around as it was happening, I don't think anyone can deny that as the "tsundere wife," Krist had it much, much worse. There's many fan videos from these days where fans are following Krist around and asking about his husband, including when he's out with his family and his gf. In fact, the poor gf was harassed quite a bit as well. Imagine you're a normal uni student with an actor bf and then due to his sudden hit bl show, wherever you go, random women - some old enough to be your mother - are asking you invasive questions about your bf's sexuality and his "husband." This type of behavior was relentless and some of the more extreme fans were pretty much saying that Krist's relationship was fake because he was Singto's wife.

The extreme shippers didn't just harass Krist's gf, they also harassed his friends, especially any guys he was openly close and affectionate with, because they were seen as a threat to Singto. If he posted about his guy friends, he would get numerous comments telling him to stop ignoring Singto and go take care of Singto like a good wife. I was a multishipper and I liked the ghost ships of Krist/Gun and Krist/Mike and OMG. The amount of hostility just mentioning these ships generated from some perayas was wild. Krist and Gun actually stopped hanging out as much, especially in public, partly due to shipper harassment!

I've always thought that some of the most prominent perayas who were older women treated Krist weirdly like he was their daughter-in-law. IDK if this will make sense to anyone who is not thai or SE-Asian, but you know that stereotypical mother and daughter in law dynamic? with the mother in law constantly policing and criticizing the daughter in law and expecting only her to do all the work in the relationship and stay faithful, etc. etc. while the son doesn't get any of this pressure? That's how some of the thai perayas I knew acted towards Krist and Singto.

Part of this is because Krist is more open and a people pleaser, while Singto is more reserved and distant. This, along with the "wifely" expectations created a situation where Krist couldn't have a gf or male friends; meanwhile Singto was doing multiple BLs with multiple partners (as he should!). Krist was constantly nagged to provide kristsingto moments and blamed for lack of kristsingto series, but Singto was mostly left alone. (And it's not just because Singto is an introvert who doesn't like overt fanservice; he's definitely done the cutesy fanservice for other pairings. I think it's mostly that they've fallen into a pattern where Krist does 80-90% of the kristsingto work, so Singto has to do less).

Anyway, this unbalanced kristsingto/peraya dynamic and the toxic shipping is largely why I stepped away from that fandom. It's sad to see that nothing has significantly changed 5 years later.

(well, I guess one change I'm seeing is that Krist's solo fans/yuyus are more aggressive and quick to clap back towards perayas where they used to be sort of cowed and drowned out. Some of them are even tagging Singto on social media in retaliation, which is wild for them. That's usually the perayas MO lol)

TOXIC FAN PRESSURE

So a lot of us saw this exchange yesterday between Krist and a toxic fan who got flatly shut down when they tried to make Krist choose between GawinKrist and KristSingto:

I made a whole thread on Twitter to provide context about it (that I might also put on here).

And, y’know, even though this gives people like that more undeserved attention, I’m sharing these other tweets to show people outside the fandom the level of nonsense Krist has been putting up with for months just because he’s still friends with Gawin and won’t pretend he doesn’t exist for the sake of their fantasies.

Krist is twenty-eight now, and he’s clearly ready to set some boundaries with fans who try to take liberties, but I want to take this as an opportunity to point out that he’s been dealing with this and worse since SOTUS aired while he was still in university.

He’s famous for being a people-pleaser, kind to all to his own detriment, so it shocked and pleased a lot of long-time fans to see him finally clap back yesterday. And it’s fitting that he did it to protect the people he loves.

And these are sock puppet accounts posting publicly, so I can’t imagine what they’re sending to his DMs.

All because he found a friend.

I’m glad he stood up to them.

[wandaromanova]

🔥anon here! :D

um for blurb night, maybe one where carol or wanda (or maybe both hehe) are super protective of r so they give nat the best friend talk after her and r get together, and then r walks in during it and it’s really funny but also fluffy

btw i read Reality today at school (it’s my senior year it’s fine i can read fanfics in class if i want to-) and it was amazing omg i struggled to not smile in front of everyone but your writing is AMAZING i love everything you write sm!! :D

Warnings: swearing, threatening

blurb requests are closed | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

•❅────────────── ᗢ ‎⧗ ───────────────❅•

You liked to think that you were extremely blessed. You saved the world for a living with people you considered family. From your best friend, Wanda, to your new girlfriend. Natasha; life was great.

Wanda was extremely protective of you, and rightfully so. You were the first person she grew a bond with after the loss of her family members and country. You supported her at her darkest times and became a sister figure in her life. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You were the life raft that carried her back to shore.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

So, when you told her about your relationship with Natasha; she went into protective sister mode.

One day, Wanda waltzed into the living room and caught sight of the Russian sitting on the couch, book in hand. 

Wanda smirked, this was the perfect time to give Natasha the infamous ‘talk.’

No… not the birds and the bees talk, but the ‘fuck with my sister and I’ll murder you’ talk.

The Sokovian rounded the couch and took a seat right beside Natasha, gaining her attention. The redhead looked up at Wanda with a questioning brow, and the woman smiled. 

“Hello, Natasha. I believe you and I have something important to discuss.” Wanda spoke friendly, but there was a glint in her eye that the former assassin noticed. So, Natasha closed her book and put it off to the side, giving Wanda her undivided attention. 

“We do?” Natasha questioned and the other woman nodded. “Yes, we do. It’s about Y/N.” At the mention of your name, the Russian smiled and that didn’t go unnoticed by Wanda.

“If you ever hurt Y/N, I won’t hesitate to destroy you from the inside out. You know just as much as anyone else here, just how powerful and capable I am.” Wanda spoke seriously, tilting her head to the side slightly with a warning glare. 

Natasha was definitely intimidated. It took her a whole two weeks to come back from Wanda’s mental infiltration during the events of Ultron.

But, as always, she didn’t show her fear, but instead, nodded her head in understanding.

“I’d never hurt Y/N. We may have just started dating, but I’ve known her for years. I know the real her and if I were to hurt her, I would probably destroy myself before you even get the chance.” 

Natasha’s tone was just as serious as Wanda’s. The Sokovian scoured the assassin’s mind for any trace of a lie, but was pleased when she found none.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Romanoff. Just always remember that Y/N may not be my sister by blood, but she’s still my sister. And I would go through great lengths to keep her safe, even if it means getting my hands dirty.” 

There was a threat behind Wanda’s words and Natasha was going to reply, but she was interrupted when you walked in. 

You had been walking around the Compound in search of your girlfriend and paused just before you got to the living room.

You heard the entire conversation and couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your best friend’s protectiveness. 

However, it warmed your heart that she cared and that Natasha cared about you just as much.

“Okay, Witchy. That’s enough threatening my girlfriend for the day. Leave her alone.”

You rounded the couch and shoved Wanda, effectively leaving a space between the two women. 

You plopped onto the seat and Natasha smiled at you before pressing her lips against yours firmly.

You got lost in the kiss as your lips moved together, but the moment was ruined by a dramatic groan followed by fake gagging, 

“Oh, god. You guys are disgusting.” Wanda grunted out and you pulled away from Natasha, your head turning to the Sokovian.

“Aw, Wands. Did you want a kiss too?” You asked with faux sympathy and Wanda’s eyes widened. 

“No. You better not.” The Sokovian protested, but you didn’t care.

You leaned towards her and Wanda tried to get away, but she was trapped between you and the armrest of the couch. You placed sloppy kisses all over her face and the brunette wasn’t pleased.

“You’re fucking disgusting. Get off!” You laughed as Wanda grew irritated. Finally, after a minute, you pulled away and Wanda wiped her face in disgust.

Natasha was chuckling beside you, wrapping her arm around your waist as you sat upright.

“There, now everyone got a kiss.” You smiled at your girlfriend triumphantly.

She shook her head at your antics with a wide smile across her face. Your attention returned to Wanda as she abruptly stood up with a glare.

“I won’t hesitate to destroy you either, Y/N.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re repulsing.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Love you too, sis.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

taglist: @perfectromanoff @aliancvnas @marvelwomenslut @chaekhan @rvselie @imasimpfornatashamaximoff @prentisshoe @mcubreakdown101 @multiyfandomgirl40 @fear-street-girls @007giu @weelight @puppy-danvers2016 @acertainredhead @jdougl-love @mindofwesley @lostandsearching @tquick99 @rachel146 @illloveyou @thewidowsghost @uraveragelonelygay @wandasgirlfriend @olicity-boo @suki-is-a-queen @xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @hagridsmomma @blurryylines @yeeterthekeeper @maximoff-jp @midnight-lestrange @tomatonugget @mrs-avenger3000 @wandanatblogs @simpfornatasharomanoff @whyisgamora777 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @grxvitye @hunka-hulka-burnin-fudge @clipreads @kathleenmikaelson

[rayofsunas]

valentine | diluc [2]

A/n: HI GUYS OMG. sorry for the late update, the only excuse I have is after classes, I decided to play the sims all afternoon, that’s it, that’s the excuse- 💀💀 but it’s here now, so enjoy my luvs!!

Summary: the ever so stoic diluc thought he was being secretive when sending anonymous letters and gifts to you during the week of valentine’s day but turns out everyone in mondstadt knew it was him, though thankfully had tight enough lips to not spill the beans to you. kaeya is of no help, so you go seeking answers yourself.

Parings: Diluc/Fem! Reader (for my other mini-series, there will be some gn ones!)

Warnings: valentines (yes, I’m late, shoot me), fluff, wingman Kaeya yes (I’m here for it), swearing

Word count: 1.1k

Diluc couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so out of place, so lost yet certain at the same time. He definitely couldn’t recall the last time Kaeya had laughed so hard, that’s for sure. 

He knew he shouldn’t have told the slightly taller male, it wasn’t surprising he reacted the way he did either. But now, Diluc could only regret his stupid decision and remind himself to never do this again. For once, he’d made a stupidly, idiotic choice... 

He said he wouldn’t seek help so early, but touching down in reality after realizing he was going about this the wrong way, guided him straight into Kaeya’s waiting open arms. Kaeya on the other hand knew this day would come; when his older, aloof brother would come to him for guidance concerning a lover, it was just a matter of when.

“Seriously? The great ol’ Master Diluc, fretting over a woman?” Kaeya laughed condescendingly. “How... unfitting and unsettling.” He said.

The older of the pair folded his arms, eyes turning into slitted daggers. “Not all of us are... bold like you, twenty-four-seven might I add.” The wine tycoon grumbled. 

He knew he’d regret this, he just knew it. Kaeya was twisting, pushing, and practically breaking every one of his buttons and he was basking in it pridefully. If he didn’t grow up, for once, be a little less annoying and a little more tolerable, Diluc would leave and seek help from Lisa; yes, maybe someone who he should’ve gone to first. 

Kaeya blinked at his older brother, confused, before bursting out laughing, alerting a few patrons of Angel’s Share. “That’s called life, dear older brother, get used to it maybe and stop being a hermit.” Kaeya teased. 

Bastard. 

The redhead should’ve waited until closing time to get more privacy, but honestly, Diluc was growing impatient and he clearly wasn't acting rationally these days anyways; you were to blame for his loss of rationality. 

“So what is this anyway? You shy or what.” Asked the Captain. 

“Shy? Of course not,” Diluc stated, shifting behind the counter. “Would it not be weird for me to randomly approach her and say how I feel?”

A long stare and pause, before Kaeya, smacked his hand to his forehead. “Archons, you’re a lost cause,” He muttered to himself, downing his glass of wine. “It’s weirder anonymously, she probably thinks you’re a creepy stalker.”

“You’ll help me,” Demanded the wine tycoon, whispering lowly in hopes none of the drunk patrons heard him. “Or else you’ll have to start paying full price for alcohol.” Kaeya snickered to himself, staring at his older brother.

“Quarter.” 

“I’ll settle for half if you assist me.”

“Threats, ey?” Kaeya smirked. “And would you look here, someone’s become quite the negotiator I see; other words, you’re just desperate.”

Maybe he was, he wouldn’t admit it though. That would just be a subject of more unwanted teasing.

“Are you going to help me or not? You’re wasting my time.”

“Where else do you have to be...” Kaeya grumbled under his drunken breath, Diluc still heard it but decided to ignore it. “I’ll still help you,” Diluc’s face relaxed, shoulders filling with relief. “You came to me for one reason; I have finesse with the ladies, you don’t. For my sanity, I’d prefer you not to be grumpy for the rest of your life.”

“Since I do have to put up with you, brother.”

“The feelings mutual.”

“Great!” The younger of the two snatched a nearby shot of a patron, ignoring the contents and patron's displeasure, before throwing it into the back of his throat. “Let’s start with your finesse and execution,” Kaeya said hopping off of the stool, swiftly turning towards the door. “You have neither.”

- 

“I forgot how embarrassing you were,” Diluc muttered, sending apologetic glances towards the two young women walking away. 

“Embarrassing? How so?” Kaeya raised a brow, eye squinting in mockery. 

Diluc eyed him dumbfoundedly, before folding his arms and straightening his broad shoulders. “For starters, one of them had a husband, she was clearly uncomfortable and the other looked like she wanted to sock you in your face; I can’t blame her.” He stated. 

“Figures, you can’t read women at all. Why am I even trying?” The Captain asked himself. “Right, because I’m a good brother,” He snapped his finger for effects. “One, Dalia’s husband is an incompetent prick. Secondly, Claire is just mad because I stood her up; that’s normal, they all love me otherwise.”

He even knew their names? Archons, what a damn womanizer.

“Yeah, seems like it,” Diluc said sarcastically. “You have no shame.”

“The ladies love that!” Kaeya defended. “You wouldn’t know... Even though you have swarms of women after you all the time - fangirls - you’re as dumb as a damn hilichurl.” Kaeya insulted, patting his older brother on the shoulder before trotting off. Diluc followed closely behind, like a lost child.

“Oh, by the way. About those fangirls, get rid of them, somehow,” Diluc listened, hanging onto every word. “You’ll lose Y/n when she learns about them; women get jealous too.”

“...Noted...”

The rest of the afternoon, the two anti-heroes with attitude problems (as Kaeya had always called them) shamelessly flirted with practically any willing person they could find. Let’s get one thing straight though, Diluc stood behind his brother and watched him get rejected a handful of times and even score a date that he said he would not be showing up to.

What a womanizing heartbreaker, Diluc thought. Flirting, winning a date, and then basically throwing them to the side. Unbelievable.

Diluc on the other hand didn’t take part in the flirting, even if it was good practice like Kaeya had said. One, it was never good to take anything his younger brother said seriously, he often played cruel jokes and basked in the sun afterward after someone else’s downfall, pride still intact. And secondly, was the redhead's love for you. He felt as though he’d be cheating, unfaithful, even if you didn’t know of his affections and adoration for you.

-

“Now, remember what I said?” Kaeya said, standing straight in front of the Dawn Winery’s wide double doors. 

The redhead's eyes rolled. “How could I not? Your annoying voice repeated it the whole way here,” 

“By the way,” Diluc started. “You didn’t need to escort me home. I don’t need protection, especially from the likes of a Knight of Favonious.”

“Come on, that’s no way to thank your dear little brother!” Kaeya teased.

“I don't necessarily care what happens, I just wanted to make sure you understood, so I don’t have to waste my day's training you like the amazing teacher I am.” Diluc scowled.

“Where exactly do you have to be?” Mocked Diluc, sending the jab because of what his brother had also said earlier. 

Kaeya laughed, beginning to walk towards the path that would lead back to the town.

“Important, mysterious, matters that don’t concern you.” He waved, thankfully disappearing into the dark. 

For once in his life, Diluc thinks he’d quite enjoy the nullifying taste of alcohol.

[🏷] TAGLIST (if you want to be removed from/added to this specific taglist let me know!)

@gladly-olus , @kyquu , @craptainlou , @mintydump , @chscklvr , @irisxiel , @minh0ree , @whatishappinesswhatislove , @rrintarou , @sorenthousand , @cvsmix​ , @nonniechan ,

3.5.21, rayofsunas

[multifandombookstore]

Ichor

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: kidnapping, torture, blood, shooting, death, and uh I think that’s it. Sorry guys I didn’t hold back Word Count: 9.8k (is that too long omg this is the longest fic I’ve ever wrote. I’m sorry if it’s too long srhvoehrfvnwoinveg) Summary: (Y/n) could never have seen this coming. Hopefully, the team will have her back like always 

Three days. 

Three days since this happened. 

You see, this happens almost every single day that you’re at work and yet you never thought that it would happen to you. I mean, no one really thinks that they’ll ever be harmed in any sort of way until it happens. No one ever thinks that this sort of thing will happen to their friends and family. 

You stare up at the ceiling, still trying to figure out where you are. From the looks of it, you were in an empty barn or a big shed. From what you remember, all of the people you interviewed or suspected had either or even both on their property. 

Your mind starts to wander to before all of this. Before all of the threats and torture. 

To Spencer. 

He’s probably so worried about you. He always is no matter what the situation. Even when you aren’t on a case, he’s always making sure you are well. 

You two kind of have this unspoken thing. It’s obvious to everyone that you two like each other but you two don’t know it yourselves. How could two profilers not tell that the other likes them? You two are both very intelligent and resourceful and yet you don’t know the first thing about love. 

“Spence, I’m not playing you in chess.” 

“Why not? It’s a good way for you t-”

“Nope. Not happening. You just beat me every time.” The puppy dog eyes and pout is what you wanted to see from that statement. He always looks cute but he looks even cuter when making that face. You couldn’t play against him even if you wanted to. Your poor heart wouldn’t be able to see his nose all scrunched up in concentration. 

“We need everyone in the conference room,” JJ says as she walks between all of your desks. You were leaning against Spencer’s desk when she came by. You push yourself off and go to your desk, grabbing your notepad and a pen. You then follow the others to the conference room, taking your usual seat next to Spencer. 

JJ waits for everyone to reach the room before starting her briefing. She says someone in Tennesse is kidnapping young adult females and torturing them for a week before killing them. Then, the whole process starts over and they go to their next victim. So far, they have taken and killed four women. Local law enforcement called JJ because they know it’s the same person from their signature. 

“What’s their signature?” Hotch asks. JJ looks to him before changing the pictures on the screen, revealing new pictures with the females having a branding mark and the lobes of their ears cut off. 

“Why would he mark them like this? Does he want to be caught?” Morgan asks, probably just thinking out loud like most of you do. 

“He’s treating them like cattle,” Spencer explains. All the city folk look to him, waiting for him to explain further. Before he can though, you cut in. 

“I lived in Tennessee for a couple of years and a lot of farmers mark their livestock in some way as to identify the owner of the livestock. No farmers’ mark is the same because of this reason. There are many ways to identify their livestock like freeze branding, inner lip or ear tattoos, earmarking, ear tagging, radio-frequency identification, and tagging with a microchip implant,” you explain. You and Spencer like to show up each other to keep things interesting. It’s more of a way to tease each other more than anything really.

“So, this sick bastard likes to mark his victims to show people that these women are ‘his’?” Emily asks, it not really sounding like a question. 

“It appears so,” Rossi replies, writing things down in his notebook. 

JJ gives us some more information before Hotch says the usual. “Wheels up in ten.” He then gathers up his file and whatnot before heading out. You stand and get your things, waiting for Spencer. You always wait for each other. 

“Coffee before we head out?” you ask him, knowing he’s basically obsessed with coffee and drinks it whether it’s good coffee or not. 

“Do you even have to ask?” Spencer asks with a chuckle, letting you walk out of the door first. 

You two chatted until you had to leave, grabbing your overnight bags before getting to the plane. As soon as you all reached the plane, you started to talk more about the case. You toss ideas back and forth to each other. When you get to Tennessee, you immediately go to the local police. 

You stay there for hours upon hours, getting no sleep while you’re working the case. Eventually, Hotch orders you to go to the hotel, seeing as how the man, as you all profiled him to be, already has someone in his clutches. She only has a day left but Hotch reassures you that if they find anything, they’ll call you. 

You do as your told, letting out a yawn and rubbing your eyes. You say goodbye to Spencer before you leave, giving him a hug. The hug lasts longer than usual since you’re tired, making you a little more clingy to him than usual. He blushes at the hug, looking around at everyone that’s giving him knowing looks. 

“Text me when you get to the hotel,” he says softly to you when you pull away, trying to contain his smile when you nod your head with your eyes almost shut. You almost kiss him on the cheek but you’re not quite that tired yet to be so careless. 

You then head out, making your way downstairs and to the building’s exit. You leave the cars for them to drive in case of an emergency, deciding to walk since it’s only a couple of streets away. You yawn and start the walk, thanking yourself for not wearing heels and instead wearing flats. 

You stuff your hands into your pockets, the air being a bit chilly compared to when you first got here. You look behind you occasionally, knowing good and well that it can be dangerous to walk alone at night. You get jumpy a few times and almost take out your gun when you hear some random noises. They were all just false alarms though. 

By the time you reach the hotel, you’re a little more awake than before but you’re still exhausted from all the sleep you’ve missed out on. You check-in at the front desk and get your hotel key before going up to the fourth floor where you’re staying. You walk in with a yawn, seeing a single bed. You gave the room with two beds to Emily and JJ since you didn’t know when they would be coming and didn’t want one of them to come in and wake you up. 

You text Spencer once you get to your room, smiling when he sends you back a smiley face emoticon. He has yet to use an emoji but you’re determined to make him crack.

You took a shower before going to bed, falling asleep almost as soon as you’re tucked under the covers. You’re asleep for hours until there’s a knock on the door, making you groan. You slowly sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, looking at the time to see it’s early morning. Must be Spencer or someone coming to get you to come back to work. 

“Give me a sec!” you call as you slip out of bed, going to get dressed into your work clothes. You quickly put everything on before grabbing your badge and gun that you kept by the bed. You run your hands through your hair, using your fingers as a makeshift brush. You’ll just pull it back later anyway, so there’s no real need to make it look nice. Other than for Spencer, your mind helpfully supplies. You ignore the thought and go to the door, unlocking it before opening it up. 

Instead of finding one of your team members, you find housekeeping standing there with a smile. “Sorry to bother you. I wasn’t sure if you were in there and when I knocked, you told me to wait,” the man explains with a smile, his eyes spotting your gun but looking back up into your eyes before you could realize he noticed. 

You flash him a tired smile in response and wave off his apology, tucking your badge into your pocket, which he also notices. “It’s alright. I thought you were someone else. You actually can come in. I’m heading out now,” you say to the nice man. He nods in response and steps aside to let you out, telling you to have a nice day as you walk away. You return the polite words before walking to the elevator. 

You go in and then go downstairs, smiling at the woman at the front desk before walking to the police station. When you get there, you find they’ve made little progress and are even more stressed. The woman he has is to be killed soon and dropped off somewhere to be found by tomorrow. 

You all work diligently, coming to dead ends and having to go back to square one. You all have a couple of hours left when a call comes in with someone claiming to have found the body on a hiking trail. You frown and stand up from your chair, slipping your jacket back on. 

You all go to where the caller claimed the body to be, finding the caller at the entrance of the trail. Hotch orders JJ and you to interview the caller, find out if they know anything other than what they said on the phone, like seeing who dropped the body off. 

You get no new information and the others confirm that the body is the missing woman. You’re devastated, to say the least. 

You couldn’t save her. 

She was supposed to have a day left to live. That could’ve been all the time you needed to track her down and save her. So why did he kill her sooner than all the other victims? Did he know her? Was it personal? 

You do all that you can at the site before getting back into your cars and going back to the station. When there, you all work overtime to find new information and clues. Eventually, the press start swarming outside of the police station. Hotch asks why they’re outside to which one deputy lets him know that it got out that a dead body was discovered. JJ reassures Hotch that she’ll handle the press and quickly goes outside to deal with them. 

You work until the time is up, figuring he’s gotten a new woman by now. But you never got a phone call of a missing or abducted woman, so some of the police hope that he’s done killing now. You all hope that’s the case but you refuse to just give up, even if he is done. You still need to catch him to avenge the five women he’s tortured and killed. 

For the next hour, you all wait for a call or a report that never comes. 

“Maybe he got a homeless person or a prostitute,” you suggest, looking at the map where the women were taken and found. 

“That doesn’t match the profile though. He goes after women with high paying jobs and are said to be hard workers,” Spencer replies, staring at the same map as you. 

“Then is he really done?” JJ asks softly, hopefully. 

Morgan sighs and rubs at his face before looking at the pictures of the five women. “I hope he’s done but it makes our job a little more difficult. Why can’t we catch this guy?” he says quietly. He has a good point but you’d rather he be done than to take another woman. 

“Alright, who wants to go to the hotel to get some rest?” Hotch asks when he enters the room. Everyone remains quiet, no one wanting to leave or to admit to wanting to do so. “Either you pick or I will,” he continues. 

“Why don’t you go to the hotel? You haven’t left since we got here,” you reply, looking over at him. His tired eyes turn to you before looking at all the information on the boards. You should’ve known that was a bad idea. He never leaves to go back to the hotel unless he’s literally about to collapse. 

“(L/n), thank you for volunteering. Go,” he says cooly, not even looking over at you. 

“But I-” you start to argue before he quickly cuts you off. 

“Go,” he interrupts, finally looking over at you to squint his eyes a bit at you. You sigh and look over at Spencer with a pout. He just flashes a smile at you as he soothingly rubs your back. 

“There’s not much more we can do other than to try and figure out where he is, who he is, or who he’s going to take next. We’ll call you if we get anything. Promise,” Spencer reassures. You groan before turning your chair back towards the desk, gathering your things. You then leave just like you did yesterday, feeling a little better since it’s not pitch black outside like it was last time. 

You look to the setting sun, a frown weighing heavy on your face. You won’t be able to stop him from kidnapping someone new but you will find her before he kills them. You swear that to yourself. 

You reach the hotel with ease and go up to your room, doing the same thing you did the last time you were here, including texting Spencer that you’re here. You weren’t as tired though, so you took your time with the shower and getting ready for bed. You were also anxious about getting a phone call confirming a new girl has been taken but until then, Hotch is right. You need to get some rest so that you’ll be even more helpful in catching this sick bastard. 

As you’re climbing into bed, there’s a knock on the door. You check the time before climbing out of bed and going to the door. You suppose it’s housekeeping again since you just left the station. You open the door with a smile, finding the same man from before. 

“Oh, you’re here. Sorry, I figured you’d still be gone,” he instantly apologizes. You shake your head and flash him another smile. 

“Nope. I just got back. I know how excited you were to clean up my room,” you say playfully. He chuckles in response and nods his head. 

“I actually was,” he replies. You assume he’s joking but it almost didn’t seem like a joke?

“Sorry to disappoint. I’ll be gone in the morning though,” you reassure, still playful. You’re about to close the door and go to bed when he suddenly speaks again. 

“Actually, I have something for you,” he says, turning to his utility cart. Your brows furrow before you figure he has towels or something for you, letting go of the door to lean against the doorframe. He digs around the items on the cart, looking for whatever it is that is so hard to find. Maybe he accidentally picked up a shirt or something when picking up dirty towels off the floor? You have no idea, but you just keep guessing until he finds what he’s looking for. 

He then suddenly turns around and wraps one arm around the back of your neck, the other hand holding a rag to your mouth and nose. You struggle against him but quickly discover that there’s chloroform on the rag. Your body quickly starts to get weak, but you aren’t going down without a fight. Despite what crime television shows people, it takes about five minutes for chloroform to work unless they’ve put things such as alcohol or diazepam into the mix. 

You struggle against the strong man, using all of your training to try and get the rag from your face. With him in front of you, this complicates things a bit. If he were behind you, you could’ve just head-butted him or something. You mentally curse yourself for not having your gun on you. That definitely would’ve made things easier. 

About a minute into struggling, you bring your hands to his face. You claw and scratch at his face, trying to hurt him enough to cradle his face. He already has plenty of scars on his face, making you wonder if the other women he took did the same thing as you. This makes you doubt your puny scratching will do anything to help you. 

This is when you bring your thumbs to his eyes, swiftly starting to dig them into the sockets. He curses and pulls his hands away from you to yank your own away. With his eyes closed and struggling to open them, you use this to your advantage. You knee him in the groin and wait for him to let you go before running down the hall. 

As you run, you realize you should’ve just run back into your room to get your gun. You’re not exactly at your sharpest with the adrenaline and panic filling you. You don’t get far before something is harshly hitting against the back of your skull, sending you sprawling to the ground. You try to keep your eyes open but it’s a losing battle. 

It didn’t take long for you to pass out and go completely slack against the floor. 

The next day, Spencer called you and frowned when you didn’t reply. He had gone back to the hotel a couple of hours after you did. After all, their smartest mind there needed to be on its A game. When you don’t answer the phone, he just decides to come to your room to wake you up. He knocks on the door but gets no answer. 

“Did she already go to work? Maybe she’s just not near her phone,” he convinces himself quietly. Well, he tries. Him being him, he calls JJ who is at the station already. 

“Spencer?” she answers, wondering why he’d be calling her if he’s still at the hotel. 

“Hey, um, is (Y/n) there yet?” he asks, afraid of the answer. You always answer your phone, even if you’re dead asleep or showering. You always answer, especially if it’s him. 

“(Y/n)? No. She’s still at the hotel,” she replies confusedly. With this new information, he starts to bang on the hotel door. 

“(Y/n)! (Y/n), are you in there?” he shouts loud enough for you to hear if you’re in there. After a couple of seconds with no reply, his heart drops to his stomach. 

“Spencer? Spencer! Why are you shouting? What’s wrong? Where’s (Y/n)?” JJ rushes out, standing from her chair. This gets the rest of the team’s attention. He almost forgets to respond, currently trying to shoulder open the door. He quickly discovers that the door is either too thick and/or he’s too weak to get it open. He swiftly turns and starts running to the elevator to smash the button repeatedly in hopes of it coming up to him faster. 

“I think (Y/n) is in danger! She’s not answering her phone and she’s not coming to the door! I’m going down to the lobby to get her room key!” he replies shakily. In fact, his whole body is shaking and his breathing is labored. 

He hears her relay this information to the team as the elevator doors slide open. “We are on our way,” JJ replies promptly after telling the team what happened before hanging up. He pockets his phone and repeatedly hits the lobby button. He knows it won’t help make it go faster but he needs to do something with his hands. 

The elevator doors aren’t even open all the way before he’s bursting through the doors and running to the front desk. The lady behind the desk starts to greet him before she’s interrupted by his demand for your room key. She’s ready to deny him before he’s showing her his badge, her eyes widening. She quickly gets it and hands it to him, gasping a bit when he snatches it from her hand. 

He goes back to the elevator and once again repeatedly hits the button. While he’s waiting for the elevator, the team is running in and coming over to Spencer just as the doors open. They all pile in and watch as Spencer does the same thing with the four button. They decide not to say anything about it and to leave him be. 

They all run out of the elevator and go to your room, letting Spencer open the door. Morgan and Hotch have their guns out just in case. Spencer feels like he’s going to throw up. He prays to whatever god there might be that you’re okay and not dead on the other side of this door. 

He’s slightly relieved when he finds that you are, in fact, not dead on the other side. He’s only slightly relieved because that means that you’re missing. Emily goes over to the bedside table and finds that your badge and gun are still there. “Guys,” she calls out to them, letting them see her discovery. 

“Phone is over here plugged in,” Morgan adds, on the other side of the bed where there’s a place to plug in your charger. Spencer sits on the bed and runs his hands through his hair, his chest feeling tight and finding it hard to breathe. 

“Spencer, hey,” JJ coos softly, squatting down to be in front of him and gently placing her hands onto his knees. He shakes his head, his eyes starting to fill with tears. Hotch quickly comes over and puts his hand onto the back of his head. 

“He’s having a panic attack. Reid, put your head between your knees,” he demands. Reid barely registers this but feels the pressure on the back of his head to help him do as he’s told. Once there, Hotch lets go and moves to where Rossi is looking in the bathroom. 

“JJ, inform the station of this.” She nods her head and moves away from Spencer, motioning for someone to help comfort him. With Emily being the closest, she takes a seat beside him and runs her hand soothingly over his back. 

“No signs of forced entry,” Rossi notes, studying the door after he comes out of the bathroom. 

“None of her things from her bag have been taken,” Morgan adds. “Her computer, wallet, and other valuables are still here,” he continues. Spencer picks his head up at this and moves over to her suitcase. He instantly starts to sift through everything in there, making his hands refuse to shake. 

He swallows the bile that tries to force its way up, his eyes seeing black spots. He shakes his head and gulps, licking his dry lips before speaking. “She’s missing a pair of socks, a belt, a pair of heels, a dress, and most of her undergarments.” 

Before anyone can reply and ask how he knows, he stands up and goes to the bathroom. He then comes back after a minute or so and announces, “She’s also missing her shampoo, conditioner, perfume, hairbrush, toothbrush, and lotion from the bathroom.” He then sits down again, his fingers raking through his hair. “She’s also missing…” he trails off, feeling the tiniest bit embarrassed. 

When he doesn’t finish, Hotch decides then to step in. “She’s also missing what?” Spencer remains quiet for a long moment before finally answering the question.

“A picture of us...”

“Uh, Reid? How do you know any of that?” Morgan asks, raising a brow at him. Reid looks down at his hands, which have begun to shake again. He laces them together in hopes of stopping or at least calming the shaking. 

“Because I helped her pack her overnight bag the last time she needed to repack it. The underwear thing I would just like to clarify that I did not help her pack. It’s just obvious that they’re missing cause everyone packs multiple pairs,” he rambles a bit. The others don’t bother questioning him on this seeing as how you two are basically connected at the hip. 

“Let’s get forensics here to take pictures and dust for fingerprints,” Hotch says to JJ before leaving. There wasn’t that much for them to find in the room other than what they already found. They all file out of the room and head back down to the lobby. 

“You can’t let anyone else stay in that room until this is solved,” Hotch explains to the manager once he explains what happened. He then asks to see the video camera set up in the hallway. The manager leads them all to the security room and shows them the surveillance footage. 

“She texted me about ten minutes after she left,” Spencer says to the manager. The manager then pulls up the camera’s footage for after you left for work, speeding it up until you get there. He then sets it to normal speed, you’re moving your lips and moving a bit, making Rossi confused. 

“What is she doing?” he asks, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at the screen. 

“She’s singing and dancing,” Spencer says fondly, his chest aching at the sight of you being so happy and goofy. He just hopes it isn’t his last time he sees you like this. You go into your room with no problems and don’t come out. The manager fast forwards the footage and stops when someone shows up. So far though, all of the people were just the other residents that were staying in that hall. 

The manager slows it to normal speed when a custodian starts to roll his cart down the hallway. He skips all other doors and goes right to yours. He knocks and Spencer’s stomach drops when you open it, knowing he was the one who took you. He watches everything. The muted talking, his hands going to the cart, your worries dropping, his pressing a rag to your face, how you struggle, how you manage to get away, how you run towards where the camera is, how the man grabs a fire extinguisher and hits you over the head, how you collapse to the ground, how the man puts you on the lowest shelf of the cart, covering you with towels and whatever else he could use to hide you. It made the cart look messier but it did its job. 

Hiding you. 

He then just closes your door with a towel covering his hand and goes to the elevator to take you who knows where. 

Spencer feels absolute fury boil through his veins, wanting to punch something which is definitely a new feeling for him. Right after feeling that though, he feels his stomach lurch. He runs over to the door where a trash can is resting right beside it, falling to his knees and heaving his stomach’s contents into the bin. 

When he’s done, he feels weak and ready to cry his eyes out. You’re gone. That man took you. What if he does more than torture you like those other women? He didn’t bother hiding his face or taking you in a place with no cameras like his other victims. So, why you? What if he kills you? What if you’re his last victim and he plans on dying with you?

Spencer almost pukes again from the idea. Nothing makes him angrier than the thought that this prick could get the easy way out.

The team had never seen him act like this. Then again, he was closer to you than any of them were. They knew if their significant other was taken, they’d probably act the same. JJ and Morgan help him up, everyone is immensely concerned about him. 

“Call Garcia,” Hotch tells Morgan, which Morgan instantly nods his head and pulls out his phone. “We need everything you have on your employee,” Hotch says to the manager. 

The manager slowly turns back to face Hotch, his face as white as a sheet with sweat lining his brows. “He doesn’t work here. I don’t know who that man is,” he stutters out, looking back to the screen. Hotch sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before turning to face his team. 

“We need to go back to the station,” he says after telling the manager to send him the video feed. “Garcia, we need you to analyze this video we are about to send you. Tell us whatever you can,” Hotch says quickly and then heads for the door. She quickly complies and gets to work, expecting to see a woman being abducted. 

What she doesn’t expect to see is you. She can’t help the tears that start to run down her face. 

You gasp when ice cold water is thrown onto you, soaking right through your clothes and freezing you to the bone. Goosebumps rise on your skin as you cough a bit, blinking the water out of your eyes as you look up to where the water came from. You scowl when you see the man who had taken you, disgust filling you when you watch his eyes trail over your body now that your clothes are sticking to you. 

“Great, you’re awake, agent.” 

You sneer a bit at this, trying not to shake in front of him. You can’t tell if your shaking is from fear or the cold water. You go with the cold water. 

“What? Got nothin’ to say to me?”

You remain quiet, refusing to give him any sort of satisfaction. You’ve interviewed psychos like him plenty of times before. You just need to figure out what kind of psycho he is and then use it against him. 

“Are you not impressed that I managed to kill those other girls and then take you? An FBI agent that is here to try and find me?” he coos.

Ah, so he’s egotistical and a narcissist. He should be easy to play then. 

“Actually, yes. I’m very impressed. I’ve had years of training to defend myself and you managed to take me down in, what, two minutes?” It was a bit of a stretch, seeing as how you haven’t had years of training and it was longer than two minutes, but you needed to boost this guy’s ego. 

A proud smile comes onto his face as expected. You almost roll your eyes at how predictable he is. 

“Now, that’s what I wanted to hear! Everyone will be so shocked when they find you dead right in front of the police station! They’ll be asking questions about me for years to come! ‘How did he do it?’ they’ll all ask,” he boasts. 

You just stare at him, struggling to play along into his fantasy. 

“Now that you’re awake, we can get this party started,” he suddenly says with a crazed grin when you don’t reply. 

“I hope there’s booze,” you say half joking. Alcohol could seriously help you out right now. 

“I’m afraid not, dollface. But don't worry. I promise you’ll have loads of fun,” he replies with a wink. 

After he says this, he pulls out a pocket knife. “First things first, we need to get rid of these pesky clothes,” he purrs as he steps up to you. You try to move your arms, feeling bile rise in your throat. You look up to see you’ve been chained up like meat hanging in preparation of being cut. 

You tug on your hands which makes him chuckle, watching him drag his knife through your button up shirt. “Such a shame that your buddies can’t see you now,” he says with a mock sigh of sadness. “But don’t worry. You’ll see them soon enough.” 

You assume he means they’ll see you dead. 

Three days go by. 

He uses multiple tools to cut and slice into your delicate skin, making you bleed out for a while before wrapping it to stop the bleeding. He repeated this process to keep you weak. Each time he dug that knife into you, he showed you the picture of you and Spencer. He also refused to give you any water or food unless it was necessary to keep you alive. Sometimes, he’d let you pass out and would wake you up by digging his knife into your skin.

At some point, you secretly wished you could just be dead rather than having to go through this. After that thought though, you instantly regretted it. Your team will save you. If you died, you knew they’d be devastated. 

You have to stay strong and fight this. 

You always use the time the man isn’t with you to try and figure out where you are. You figured out quickly that you’re in a barn. That didn’t really help you much though in the long run. Nothing really stood out to you but then again, with how weak you are, you wouldn’t be surprised if you missed plenty of things. 

After being there for four days, the man who kidnapped you comes up to you with a giant grin. “Ready to go home?” Your brows furrow at the question, wondering if that meant you were going to be killed. 

The man frees you of your restraints, knowing good and well you’re too weak to escape. You are only in your bra and panties, cuts and other markings all over your body. When he lets you free, you almost immediately collapse to the ground. 

“Let’s play a game,” he says into your ear, making you want to gag. He then pulls a bag over your head and drags you out of the building and into a car. You simply lay there motionless, being too weak to move. Once the car is stopped, you hear his door open and close before he crawls into the backseat where you are. 

He takes the bag off and starts to put something on you. “This earpiece will let you hear me. This wire will let me hear them. You are to do as I say. If you decide to rat me out or stay with them, I will leave you here and simply take a new girl. The longer you are alive, the more women I will kill. When you come back to me, if you are followed, I have instructed someone to take my place. Do you understand?”

You nod your head, your eyes barely even open. He hums and kisses your forehead before shoving you out of the van. “I’ll inform you of where to meet me once you have left them,” he commands before driving off. You watch him drive off before slowly turning to look at where he dropped you off. 

Right in front of the station. 

You slowly stumble to the station, your bare feet burning on the concrete. You open the glass door, your blood getting on it as you lean against it. You then walk in further before you hear someone gasp, meaning someone noticed you. 

“Ma’am! Ma’am, are you alright?” you hear a man shout. You turn to see a police officer quickly making his way towards you. He kind of looks like the man who took you. 

That thought alone triggers something inside of you.  

“Don’t touch me!” you scream, quickly stumbling away from him before falling to the ground. At your scream, the whole station was in an uproar. 

“She’s bleeding!” 

“Someone call an ambulance!”

“Wait, that’s the missing detective!” 

The team was already making their way to the commotion from the conference room when they heard that last part. It was easy for Spencer to shove his way through the crowd at that last part. 

“(Y/n)!” he shouts, his eyes filling with tears. You’re looking around quickly, your body shivering on the cold ground. At the sound of your name, you turn to see the man. Your whole body goes into a panic. 

“No! Please! No more! Don’t touch me!” you beg, making Spencer stop in his tracks at how afraid you appear to look at him. Tears start to fall from his eyes as his body starts to quake all over again. He wants nothing more than to just hold you. Why won’t you let him near you?

“Give her space!” Hotch demands.

“Stop gaping at her! She’s indecent!” Emily shouts to everyone, seeing as how you’re only in your undergarments. She knows they weren’t staring at you because of that but she knows later when you come to it, you’re going to be embarrassed and ashamed. The men quickly look away at this demand, her brows furrowing as she looks at you. She takes Spencer’s coat from him and slowly starts to walk towards you. 

“(Y/n)? Hey, it’s alright. It’s me, Emily. You’re okay,” she says soothingly, not getting too close to you in fear you’d freak out again. As soon as you see her though, relief fills you. You start to sob as you reach out to her, letting her quickly go over to you and pull the jacket over you. She buttons it up for you, seeing as how your hands are shaking too badly to do so. 

Once it’s on, she pulls you into a hug. After hugging you for a minute or so, she slowly helps you up. Since you have on Spencer’s coat, it goes down to your thighs with ease. You have to lean against her heavily, your head not being able to stay up completely on its own. “JJ, can you find her some clothes while I clean her up?” she asks softly as she passes her, leading you to a bathroom. 

“Don’t let them clean you or put clothes on you,” you suddenly hear in your ear. 

“No,” you demand. JJ stops in her tracks and turns to look at you confused. 

“But, (Y/n)-” Emily starts, ready to convince you. Why wouldn’t you want clothes or to be cleaned up? 

“No!” you cry out, trying to pull yourself free from her hold. She holds tight onto you, afraid that you’d fall again. 

“Okay, okay! We won’t clean you or get you new clothes!” she promises. You calm down at this, letting her lead you to the conference room where they were set up. She sits you down and gives the okay for the guys to come into the conference room. They all slowly walk in, not wanting to startle you. 

You tightly hold onto the jacket with a vice-like grip, your eyes watery. She sits down next to you, running a hand along your back. “(Y/n), who did this to you?” she says softly. 

“Don’t answer that.” You shake your head, not answering her question. 

JJ’s brows furrow for a moment before she picks up the notepad in the middle of the table, quickly scrawling something down. She then turns it around to show the others. 

She’s wired. He can hear us and she can hear him. 

You nod your head when you see it, a tear falling down your face. “Why send her back with that? We can just remove it,” Morgan says, not bothering to try and hide the fact that he knows. “He didn’t try hiding it. He knows we know,” he explains when he sees JJ’s horrified face that he just announced it like that. 

Your eyes slowly move to the man, feeling sick just looking at him. Why is he crying? He has no right to be crying.

(Y/n), who did this?

You look up at Hotch, who was the one who wrote it. You then point at the man, Spencer’s brows furrowing at this. Everyone is just as confused as he was. That’s when understanding appears on Spencer’s face, his legs bringing him to the seat furthest away from you. 

“(Y/n), that’s Spencer. He’s your...friend. He wouldn’t do this,” Morgan explains. You shake your head, making more tears fall. 

“He’s tricked her. He must have shown the picture of me to her every time he tortured her. Now, when she sees me, she associates me with the pain,” he explains, placing his head into his hands. He then stands and suddenly slides everything on the desk off to the floor. 

“I’ll kill him when I get my hands on him!” Spencer screams. Morgan and Hotch are quick to come over to him and wrestle him back down into his seat. They know he doesn’t mean it but Spencer thinks he just might. 

“Calm down! You’re scaring her more!” Rossi shouts, seeing you flinch at his outburst and start to cry harder. Spencer calms down instantly at this, regret filling his eyes. 

“So my plan worked. Poor Spencer Reid.”

“Spencer Reid…” You say softly. Spencer sits up at this, looking like a dog about to get a treat. 

“Don’t say his name!”

You flinch at the shout in your ear, wiping at your teary eyes. “I’m sorry,” you croak, feeling sick all over again. Emily looks at the others, clearly worried. JJ sits on the other side of you and offers you a tissue. You give her a nod as thanks, afraid if you thanked her out loud you’d get into trouble. 

“Why don’t we just remove the wiring?” Morgan asks, starting to make his way towards you. 

“No!” you scream at him, putting your hands up. 

“Hey, it’s okay. He won’t do it,” Emily reassures, bringing your hands back down. You nod and slowly lower your hands. She tightly grips one of them in her hands, clearly afraid and upset. 

“Why send her here in the first place?” Hotch asks, studying you with a frown. Rossi sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“To send a message?” he guesses. 

“To torture us. Me,” Spencer mumbles, keeping his head down to help you. Your shaking is slowly starting to settle down but you’re far from calm. You don’t even know why you’re here. 

“Tell them what I did to you. In detail.”

You shake your head violently at this, starting to cry harder. “No…please,” you choke out. 

“Do it or I’ll go take another one! I’ll kill her as soon as I get my hands on her!” he screams in your ear. Your body shakes violently, starting to gag like you’re about to throw up. Morgan goes to quickly get you a trash can when you start heaving. 

Nothing comes up. 

“He hasn’t been feeding her,” Spencer growls, tears streaming from his red eyes. His hands clench into fists, fantasizing of how he wants to torture the man who did this to you. Morgan places his hand on his shoulder, for moral support and to make sure he doesn’t get up to have another fit. 

“He...he brought me...somewhere and tied my hands together. He then...put the middle of the rope on a hook...and brought me into the air...where my toes were the only thing touching the ground. He...pulled out a knife and c-” 

You cut yourself off with sobs, shaking your head. Emily calmly shushes you, wanting to run her hand through your hair but stops herself since she didn’t want your blood on her hand. 

“You don’t have to continue,” JJ reassures softly. 

“Tell them! Now!” You continue to tell them through your sobs and gasps for air. 

“He...cut my clothes off of me...and then he started to cut me...I could barely stay awake from the pain...he’d wake me up by cutting me more…he said he likes to hear me scream...and to watch me cry...” 

Spencer wanted to leave, didn’t want to hear another word. He had to hear what this man did to you though. He needed to know how much pain he needed to double and return to the man. 

“Good girl.” 

You hide your face in your hands, crying into them to hide. You were disgusted. Morgan shakes his head and heavily sits down, his jaw clenched tight. JJ and Emily were crying right along with you, hating to see you in such pain. 

Spencer never stopped crying. His heart breaks a little more with each tear that falls down your face, with each sob that racks your body. He wanted to hug you, to love you until your worries are gone. But you’re afraid of him now. 

“Ready to leave?” 

“No!” you get out with a sob. The others jump, surprised by your outburst. 

Write down what he tells you if you can, Rossi quickly writes down before handing the notepad to you. You shakily pick up the pen, taking a deep breath to try and calm you down. You’re surrounded by the best. They’ll help you. 

He asked me if I’m ready to leave. 

Emily sniffles and wipes at her eyes, knowing good and well her makeup is ruined but couldn’t care less. “Want to call Garcia and tell her you’re okay?” Morgan offers softly. 

“Yeah, she’s been worried about you,” JJ says shakily, taking a tissue to wipe at her eyes and nose. You nod your head, not hearing the man tell you that you couldn’t. Morgan dials her number and puts her on speaker, sliding the phone towards you. 

“Derek? Any news on (Y/n)?” she asks after the first ring. You smile at the sound of her voice, trying to sniffle but finding your nose is too stocked up. Everyone knows she’s the closest to you, besides Spencer, of course. They see him as your boyfriend though, so she’s basically your best friend. 

“Hey, Penelope,” you croak out. She gasps when she hears your voice and you can tell she’s crying. 

“Oh, babycakes! You’re okay! Don’t scare me like that! Let me get a video call up.” 

“No, not right now,” you plead softly. You don’t want her to see you like this. 

“Okay, dear. I’m so glad you’re okay!” she says loudly, making it clear how relieved she is. You silently cry, not wanting to tell her the truth. 

“I’m just fine, sugar. You should see the other guy,” you joke, making her and some of the others laugh weakly. 

“Oh, don’t I know it. You’re a fighter. I knew you’d be just fine.”  

She probably didn’t know that but you weren’t about to call her out on it. “I love you,” you say softly, getting another tissue to wipe at your face. 

“Awe, I love you more! Come home quickly so we can eat our weight in food!” You laugh, more tears falling since you fear that you won’t be able to do that. 

“Will do, my honey bunches of oats.” You hear her sniffle before saying her goodbyes and hanging up. Once the line goes dead, you give Morgan his phone back. 

“Don’t tell her this happened. If I…” you trail off for a moment, trying to stop your crying so you can speak. “If I don’t make it bac-”

“Don’t talk like that,” Spencer interrupts, feeling sick at the thought of you not being okay. Why wouldn’t you be okay? You’re right here! You’re safe now. With him. 

“If I don’t make it back, tell her to not mourn me for too long. She suffers enough as it is. I want her to be happy. That...that goes for all of you,” you croak out, ignoring the man and swallowing thickly. Spencer shakes his head, starting to gag from the need to throw up but just like you, he hasn’t had anything to eat since you went missing. 

“(Y/n), can we show you some pictures?” Emily asks, wiping at her face before pulling your phone out of the evidence bag. You nod your head, confused just like everyone else at what she wants to show you. 

“This is you and Spencer at the beach. He won’t admit this but he coudln’t peel his eyes away from you. This is you two at the library. He dragged you there before you could even agree to go there with him. You two snuggled up in the corner with the bean bags and ended up falling asleep. Security had to kick you two out when they were closing. Here you two are at a candy shop. You kept telling him about all these candies that he’d never had before and you just had to take him there to try them. This one you took right at his desk, sitting on it as if it were your chair,” she says softly, showing you the different pictures. She knows about all of these stories because Spencer is all you talk about when said man isn’t there to hear it. 

Spencer stands up at her words, watching you expectantly. He almost wanted to yell at her for showing you his face, afraid for what your reaction would be. 

A few more tears fall at the pictures but you remain quiet, looking at your smiling face with the man who did this to you. 

“Don’t listen to her!”

You write his words down, making Emily go quiet. She continues to show you pictures on your phone silently, your chest feeling tight. But you were also feeling something else. 

You look away from your phone to the man across the room, looking to his shaking hands before looking to his eyes. You slowly stand up, shocking and worrying everyone. You slowly walk around the table, your eyes on Spencer the whole time. 

You remember your arguments about playing chess. You remember smearing whipped cream on his face from your bowl at an ice cream parlor. You remember him randomly coming up to tickle you despite your warnings and screams of laughter. You remember all of the late-night texts and phone calls. You remember the long road trips you two would take on the weekends when you’d come back home from a case, simply because you wanted to spend more time together. 

You remember your almost kiss that happened two weeks ago. You’d never forget that. 

He doesn’t move from his spot, doesn’t even breathe as he watches you. Did that really work? It must have cause the next second you’re crashing into him with more sobs. He holds you tight, burying his face into a clean part of your hair. 

He’s been wanting to do this since you first left work before you were taken. All he’s wanted is to hold you and reassure himself that you’re just fine. Well, what he really wants is to call you his but one step at a time. 

After you’ve cried everything out, you pull back to look at him. You look like a complete mess and yet he still thinks that you’re beautiful. 

His eyes widen when you tug him down, connecting your lips. Everyone, including the man you're kissing, is shocked, to say the least. You’re just happy your lips aren’t bloody. Spencer returns the kiss instantly, holding you tightly against him. 

“Why is everyone so quiet?”

You pull away at the sound of the voice, panting softly and staring up at Spencer. “I love you,” you say before you can chicken out. As soon as the words are out, you hear screaming in your ear loud enough for Spencer to hear. 

“No! Get out of there now! Leave!” the man roars. 

At this, you try to pull away from Spencer to follow orders. “No! You aren’t leaving! Why would you leave?” Spencer asks, starting to panic. He’s never felt panic like this before. The first time he lost you was bad enough but this was even worse. 

“I have to! Please! Let me go!” you say quickly, afraid of what would happen if you didn’t leave now. 

“No! You’re staying here! I’m not letting you out of my sight!” Spencer replies quickly. The others wanted to help but they didn’t know who to help. On one hand, he’s right. Why would they let you leave again? You’re safe here. On the other hand, though, they don’t know what happens if you stay here. 

“He’ll take someone else and kill them if I don’t!” you shout, struggling against the handsome man. 

“I don’t care!” Spencer screams, making your body go still. You gape up at him, surprised he’d say such a thing. You weren’t the only one. 

“Spenc-” you start, ready to talk him down. 

“No! I don’t care! Call me selfish! I don’t care! I’m not losing you, (Y/n)!” He starts to cry again, shaking his head as he holds you to him in a hug. “I can’t lose you. I won’t,” he stutters out, his body shaking violently. 

“Leave now or I’ll kill someone else!” 

“Spence, he won’t kill me. I can’t put someone else’s life in danger,” you reassure, slowly pulling away from him. You don’t actually know he won’t kill you but you couldn’t live with yourself if you got someone else killed. Knowing he’s going to argue, you pull him down into another kiss. 

“You have five minutes to get into my van or else I take another hostage!” 

You pull away again and walk over to the notepad, turning to a new page before starting to write information down. “I’ll come. Just give me one more minute with them,” you beg. 

6’0. Long, brown hair. Icy blue eyes. Pale. Missing top third tooth on the right. Scar on collarbone and face. Has a white van. Kept me in a barn. 

You set the notepad back onto the table with a smile before starting to walk around and give everyone a hug. When you reach Spencer, you give him the longest hug. He then quickly kisses you, putting as much love and passion as he can muster into it. When you both pull away, he quickly snatches up the notepad and writes something onto it. 

I love you more than you’ll ever know. I’ll find you. Never give up hope. He will pay. 

He shows it to you, trying not to cry and keep a brave face for you. You smile and nod your head, shakily brushing some hair out of his eyes. “Bye, guys. See you later, yeah?” you say shakily. Spencer grabs your hand and slowly starts to lead you to the door, hating himself for letting you walk right out of here without him to help you. He’ll have to help you from here. 

“I’ll buy you a new jacket,” you promise, new tears starting to gather in your eyes. He can only shake his head, his throat tightening from trying not to cry. It’s a losing battle. 

“If she knows what he looks like and where she was taken, we don’t need to take her back. We can easily arrest him,” Morgan says quietly to the others once you and Spencer are far enough away. 

“We let her walk away and then we follow them,” Hotch promises. The others nod and go back to watching you and Spencer. They find you two kissing again, their hearts aching a bit. You two have been pining for each other for who knows how long and you can only admit your feelings when your life is put on the line. 

You tense up and pull away, everyone figuring out that then man is talking to you again. You give Spencer a reassuring smile before walking out, following the man’s instructions to his car. They watch you go through the windows before slipping out the back door to get to their cars. They watch you walk into a car garage, a curse escaping Spencer. 

Morgan calls Garcia and asks her if she can spot you on any of the cameras in the garage. While she’s searching, a white van pulls out and Hotch tells Rossi to follow it. “She said he had a white van. Everyone else, wait for Garcia to confirm.” 

Turns out he was right. Hotch drives several cars behind the van, not wanting to be seen. Rossi says into his mic on what roads they’re taking so they weren’t all packed onto the same road at once. They’d easily be caught that way. 

Spencer was growing more restless by the second. “Can’t you go faster, Morgan? We don’t-” 

“Reid, I know you’re worried about (Y/n) but we have to keep our heads,” he interrupts, keeping his eyes on the road and intently listening to Rossi’s instructions. Spencer sighs and nods his head, staring out the windshield. He knows he’s right. 

Soon enough, the van pulls off onto a dirt road. Hotch pulls off to the side of the road and waits for the rest of the team to arrive before slowly driving down the dirt road. The dirt road goes on for about a mile before leading to a cabin with a barn off to the side. 

Right in front of the barn is the van. 

They all park and silently open the doors, making sure to leave the doors open to keep from making noise. Before anyone can do anything else, Spencer is already taking off to the barn. 

“Reid!” Hotch hisses, quickly following after him. Luckily, Spencer stops at the barn doors and bends down before peeking into one of the barn’s windows. He watches as the man starts to hang you up again, his coat undone and showing your bloody body. 

His blood boils all over again at the sight. 

What makes him snap is when the man starts to trace over your bare skin with his hands, tears welling up in your eyes. Before anyone can stop him, Spencer raises his gun and shoots the man straight through his head. 

You gasp when the man’s blood splatters onto you, your body shaking violently now that you aren’t trying to hold it back. You look to the shattered window to see Spencer with his gun raised. Did he kill the man? 

Everyone runs in after the gunshot rings out, Spencer leading the way and heading right towards you. Everyone, including Spencer himself, is shocked that he killed the man. He doesn’t think about it though as he helps you down and wraps his arms around you. 

“I’m never letting you go,” he murmurs into your ear as you both hold onto each other for dear life. Rossi spots all your missing items from your room, telling Hotch about it. You could care less about that stuff though. You don’t want any of it anymore. 

“I love you. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you,” Spencer cries into your hair. You shake your head, pulling away to look up at a blurry Spencer, the tears blocking your vision. 

“Don’t apologize. There’s nothing you could’ve done. You’re here for me now, just like you’ve always been,” you reassure, gently cupping his face. He smiles and quickly leans down to give you a sweet kiss. 

He wasn’t joking when he said he wouldn’t let you go. From the barn, to the police station, to the jet, and even back in Virginia, he had held onto you. Whether that be his hand holding yours, his arm wrapped around you, or however else he could touch you. It didn’t matter. 

He never left you alone once and you couldn’t be more thankful to have someone like him in your life.

MASTERLIST

More with Spencer Reid

If you liked this, please reblog!! If you want more with him, comment or send an ask!!

[lordymaru]

I'm about to refute this entire essay with the simple explanation being:

The only interaction we've seen of these two is when she's a freaking 8 year old. Your self insert shows no boundaries.

And this is probably the last time I'll make a post about the stupidity behind the way the pair is viewed:

Note: I know there's people out there with a brain who ship these two in a more conventional way. In the end you do you, ship whatever you want, no one can prevent you from doing that, just don't be gross about it.

One of the parts being the Significance of their first encounter:

She’s a poor peasant girl who’s suffered immense trauma, suffering, and loneliness. Her initiative to help Sesshomaru came from her generosity

Exactly, she's alone for her family had been killed before her eyes, the villagers treat her like garbage. When she meets Sess he's wounded and simply in a bad state, both mentally and physically. Both of them are, the difference being he's a demon, a powerful one and for him to have ended in such a bad shape only stabbed at his pride- Rin on the other hand is a child, a human tiny child who is vulnerable and to him she poses no threat. Both of them are weak then.

At this point, it’s observable that despite knowing her story, her scars, and her difficulties, humans do not even empathize, let alone sympathize with Rin. It is the feudal era, after all. She’s a young, disabled orphan and the villagers only see her for what she lacks: a voice, a family, and a place of belonging.

Again with your feudal era shit. I can assure you the world is just as ugly today as it was before you and I existed. Next.

When he asks about her bruises, this is the first time anyone had ever afforded her a second glance.

This was a huge step forward for Sess, a huuuuuuge one for he showed interest in another living creature, not just any creature but a human. And for her it was probably like Christmas, for no one had showed her any mercy or interest. Ok you get a point. But oh, boy, how I'm about to spit on the next one:

The audience can see Sesshomaru calculate her body language, recognizing that she is mute. Instead of pressing her further or ignoring her outright, he attempts to comfort her (in his own way), making her feel that it is okay if she chooses not to answer him; that her desire to reply to him should only be a desire, not an obligation. I think, on one hand, that was the first moment of something that would resemble compassion that Sesshomaru had ever administered, trying to put himself in her shoes — if someone had asked him to do something that required, for example, his left arm, he probably would have appreciated them saying “you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to” so to provide him agency for something that he actually cannot do. And the same goes for Rin. He recognizes her disability, maybe even resonates with it and decides to empower her with a choice. Choice is important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic and it’s a word that will come up often. 

Ok why are you comparing the loss of his arm to her not being able to talk? Not all disabilities are the same, you moron. Or am I dumb for thinking this way? If so, feel free to call me out on my lack of common sense kr whatever you wanna call it. Sess physically couldn't do shit with his left arm because well- it was gone! That's a physical disability. Rin had "lost" her voice after what she witnessed and so she wouldn't speak anymore. Have you heard of Psychogenic Dysphonia? If not, you can click here and give it a reading or do your own research. The more you know: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0892199703000158

So you say he "empowers her with a choice" that is "important when it comes to the Sesshomaru/Rin dynamic" let me get this straight, a choice because why? She's a child? A female? Because you said so yourself, it's the Feudal Era after all and therefore women had no choice in life, no voice, no agency, no nothing. So he was being magnanimous then? You know... This is where you start edging into the gr00ming territory. Can't you see? No? Alright, moving on.

BRUH WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you fucking good? See how you self insert? Bye. Next

The next time Sesshomaru sees Rin, it is suggested that he actively sought her, whether it be by curiosity or concern for well-being

He did... It is not suggested, he actually did asdfhkl. For both curiosity and he probably was worried. He also states he wants to test out his sword, what a perfect chance to do so for Rin is pretty much dead and that's the only way to make his sword work. So she was both being a guinea pig and an itch he wasn't quite sure how to scratch. Next.

Silence Rin.

Rin screams endlessly, annoying Sesshomaru. Firstly, this is the first time we hear him call her by her name. Secondly, Sesshomaru is visibly annoyed by her noises, however, he does not tell her to “shut up” as he normally would with Jaken or even InuYasha. He simply says “enough of that Rin, stop it.” (In Japanese he says, “Silence, Rin. You make too much noise.”) Even analyzing the Japanese dialogue, it is evidently softer than Sesshomaru’s usual ‘kisama’ (貴樣) manner of speech that we see depicted usually. This is the first time he’s had a companion who is not a demon, someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return. His softer tone is a logical deduction to make.

Ok... "someone with compassion, and who has had his general best interests at heart with no expectations in return." Bruh... As if he would even consider meeting someone's expectations. Are you sure you're talking about Sess? Another thing is, he always speaks in a calm tone, he rarely yells or loses his composure- he had no reason to be rude to her either, you're excusing his regular behavior simply because she ain't Jaken. Anything else?

Rin doesn't change Sesshomaru overnight, it's a gradual and long process

Well duh!!! Just like you don't lose the pounds you gained from eating in one sit 12 donuts a week ago. Stating the obvious and for what? What's exactly your mf point?

The silence part is important, idk how to tell you there is a power imbalance in their relationship from the moment he tells her to be quiet. He didn't say please, he didn't ask her to, he told her to be quiet. Like a parent would, if I could count the times my mom told me to shush.... That's your first indicator he is not her friend, he is not her equal.

Letting you Be Yourself: The Panther Demon Arc

the first frame the audience sees in the anime sets the scene, painting the Sessshomaru entourage in a serene manner, indicating a level of comfort between group members (episode 75). This is vastly different from our last depiction of Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship. In episode 44, he was unable to withstand her (albeit annoying) childish antics. But here, it’s observable that Sesshomaru can accept her and her package of unconventional fun. Not only does he tolerate and even more so, accept Rin, but he accepts her influence on his vassal, Jaken and allows them to be free around him.

Is called developing patience. I can assure you that when you're a parent or an older bro/sis and your kid/younger sibling is noisy af you either learn to tolerate that or get used to it for kids are kids abd you have to let them be kids. Next.

She's a child, she's not stupid.

The Abducted Rin: Calling her Name

The respect that Sesshomaru shows Rin is insurmountable. However, the InuYasha franchise is clever to portray the subtlety of Sesshomaru’s respect for her. KV on Twitter points out how highly he regards his companion and never relegates her to anything less than the value that she as a person embodies (@KVndie via Twitter). He consistently humanizes her. 

He only sees how important she is to him after her ass dies a second time. What do you mean? He respects her enough to not coddle her, she is independent and taught her to be self sufficient from the very start. That's respect. He consistently humanizes her because... She ... Is ... Human! OMG WHAT A SHOCKER!

As Naraku remarks on his hostage to Sesshomaru, "Naturally, the girl you're looking for is not here…,” he continues, “the girl is in custody outside of the castle..." Naraku never makes an attempt to give her personhood, leaving her unnamed, disposable, and relegating her to a mere "girl." But Sesshomaru doesn’t take any of this. He is a cold-hearted Daiyokai, yet he still makes an effort and upholds his principle to refer to her as Rin — not a replaceable “girl.”

Naraku is a mf genius. It didn't quite click until now he wanted to see if she was important or not to him and to what extent. For he planned his moves that way, making people turn against one another. While he wouldn't have made Rin turn against Sess he set everything up so he would end up wanting to kill Kohaku and in doing so, Inugang would have engaged against Sess.

Sesshomaru’s insistence on using Rin’s name isn’t only highlighted in this isolated incident though. It pays off. It is an ongoing theme in their dynamic throughout the series.

That's her name ... How you want him to call her? Baby?

I could go on and on but... This is a fucking essay. And then I stumble against more bullcrap:

The second point I want to highlight here is Sesshomaru’s reaction to Rin’s fall and her risky expedition. At this point, it’s unquestionable that Rin has a special place in his heart.

Of course she has a special spot in his heart. I won't deny that. What worries me is how you're trying to justify the way she's important to him since she was a child. As if his way of seeing her had changed.

I'm gonna disagree by agreeing with you in a few pointers. Kagome and Kikyo were rivals, they both romantically love the same guy. Kagome being the only one who could save Kikyo chooses to help her, knowing damn well Inuyasha would have suffered if Kikyo had died- further more, if it was in Kagome's hands to do something about it.

Rin on the other hand, I will applaud to her how she grew past her fear of Kagura after being kidnapped by her, she saw her body in the river and said fuck it and did her best to try to pull her from the water. I loved how stubborn and brave she was, even tho Sess had to pull everyone out of the water- she deserves a gold star. You go baby girl!!!

Rin later makes a cheeky comment, noting Kagura’s romantic interest in Sesshomaru. Jaken brushes this off as childish naivety. But for the spectator, this establishes two things: (1) That Rin does not see Kagura as a rival for Lord Sesshomaru’s attention, let alone affection; and (2) that Rin is still a child. Rin is certainly a child, with a youthful and fresh outlook on life that brings out the best in people. But even as a child, her relationship with Sesshomaru is incredibly healthy, clear, and surprisingly communicative.

Why would she? She's not a spoiled brat

Nah? I thought her double D indicated otherwise. OF COURSE SHE'S A MF CHILD.

Why do you keep mentioning is healthy? Do you need reassurance of it? Communicative in what way? Cuz if you wanna talk about communication let's talk about how he didn't even acknowledge her ass when she gave birth. He didn't even say her name, didn't even look at her. Tell me now how they are communicative and healthy?

I could go on, I really but all I'm getting from this load of bullshit I'm forcing myself to read is how you do in fact need to reassure yourself thr ship is god tier and is... How you said it was? Ah, healthy.

Anyways, thanks for reading and if you see any typo ... My apologies, I tried. Also if you have any input or I was out of line in some way, my apologies once more.

[sigritandtheelves]

i saw a diff anon ask about Scully’s childhood, and I wanted to hear your take on Mulder’s childhood after Samantha was taken. It’s canon that Mulder and his dad were estranged and didn’t talk for years. I assume his mom was really drained because her baby girl was gone, and she still had another kid to worry about. He was upset for both their deaths, and was distraught when his mom had her stroke so he obviously loved her, although more than he loved his dad

[This ask is from last summer, omg… I save them, see? Just taking my time, lol]

Putting this under a cut bc it’s pretty long…

We get a few glimpses into what Mulder’s childhood looked like, and we know that there was quite a lot of pain and misdirected guilt. I’ve seen a lot of fans turn their ire toward Teena Mulder, and I really don’t think she deserved it. Excuse the digression about her life, but I think it’s warranted.

Teena Mulder was born in 1941, which means she was twenty when her son was born. That means she was a teenage bride, not uncommon in the late 1950s/early 60s, but still: she was essentially a child when she was was pulled into a world of powerful men, secrets, and intrigue at the height of the Cold War—tied to a group that we know treated women as disposable: walking wombs to fit a higher agenda of reproducing “better” humans. Bill Mulder may have loved her, but his loyalties were still to a group that saw her only as a pawn and a body to produce children they could experiment on.

Teena had an “affair” with CSM when she was nineteen, probably just as she was learning how truly insidious this group of men was, that her new husband was one of them. Bill Mulder, too, was torn and tortured by the demands of this cabal, but never enough to push back, to quit, to turn against their methods.

Nevertheless, the Mulders gave her child, then children, a happy environment to grow up in. Mulder describes his early childhood (before Samantha was taken) as idyllic. Some of this may be rose-colored glasses looking back, but I also think his parents worked hard to hide the horrors from them. The children were happy, even if Teena wasn’t.

After Samantha was taken, though, the Mulders could no longer pretend or ignore or forget. Teena had no forgiveness to offer her husband: how could she? She loved her son, but she was broken by the loss of her daughter. She had a stroke at age 55!, probably a result of years of trauma and repression: stress on her brain and body from emotional abuse and threats of physical violence. (If you think the project didn’t threaten her, too…) When she is cold to Mulder, this is a trauma response, a survival response: she lives only by pushing down the fact that her whole life was orchestrated by cruel men and out of her control. Mulder’s demands that she tell him what happened are a reminder of that. Neither of her children, in the end, managed to escape this thing.

We know Mulder’s parents fell apart after Samantha was taken, and Bill Mulder absolutely redirected his guilt and shame onto his son, which emotionally traumatized Mulder for life. Mulder saw Samantha’s abduction as a catastrophic event, rather than a culmination of tension: the execution of a plan that had been in the works since before he was born. He thought he could have prevented all the trauma if he’d stopped one single event, and Bill Mulder let him believe that. The truth, of course, was that he never could have prevented her abduction. In the end, Bill was a bad guy, both in his personal actions and his life-long complicity. But Fox Mulder was so desperate for love and absolution that he wanted to forgive his father. And as we saw, that possible moment of absolution was taken from him, too.

I think Teena did still offer her son plenty of love as a teenager, and I think they had a good relationship for the most part, as long as anything to do with “the project” stayed off the table. She loved him, but he was so traumatized by the coldness and guilt his father gave him that he had difficulty appreciating her love. He took her for granted, and ended up turning her into the thing she’d hated being all along: an accessory to the project. That hurt her, and that’s another reason why she seems so cold when we see her—because he only wants to talk to her when it relates to this thing that ruined her life and robbed her of all agency.

So yeah. Mulder is a mess, and it’s mostly Bill Mulder’s (and CSM’s) fault. If Teena had had better resources, she may have been able to get them both out of the whole situation, but given the historical context and the strength of the Syndicate, she was powerless. I think her sense of hopelessness and powerlessness, despite her love for her son, affected his childhood—made him feel even more detached and guilty. Again, how could it not?

[mystopience-system]

Welcome to the internet

Have a look around

Anything that brain of yours can think of can be found

We've got mountains of content

Some better, some worse

If none of it's of interest to you, you'd be the first

Welcome to the internet

Come and take a seat

Would you like to see the news

Or any famous women's feet

There's no need to panic

This isn't a test, haha

Just nod or shake your head and we'll do the rest

Welcome to the internet

What would you prefer

Would you like to fight for civil rights

Or tweet a racial slur

Be happy

Be horny

Be bursting with rage

We got a million different ways to engage

Welcome to the internet

Put your cares aside

Here's a tip for straining pasta

Here's a nine-year-old who died

We got movies, and doctors, and fantasy sports

And a bunch of colored pencil drawings

Of all the different characters in Harry Potter fucking each other!

Welcome to the internet!

Hold on to your socks

'Cause a random guy just kindly sent you photos of his cock

They are grainy and off-putting

He just sent you more

Don't act surprised, you know you like it, you whore

See a man beheaded

Get offended, see a shrink

Show us pictures of your children

Tell us every thought you think

Start a rumor, buy a broom

Or send a death threat to a boomer

Or DM a girl and groom her

Do a Zoom or find a tumor

And here's a healthy breakfast option

You should kill your mom

Here's why women never fuck you

Here's how you can build a bomb

Which Power Ranger are you?

Take this quirky quiz

Obama sent the immigrants

To vaccinate your kids

Could I interest you in everything

All of the time?

A little bit of everything

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Apathy's a tragedy and boredom is a crime

Anything and everything

All of the time

Could I interest you in everything

All of the time?

A little bit of everything

All of the time

Apathy's a tragedy and boredom is a crime

Anything and everything

All of the time

i saw this and i thought it was just the trending bit of audio but omg

that is.. uh.. dedication.

thank you anon

[unknownwriting]

Summary: simple hcs for when s/o’s on her period. part 2

Character(s): Portgas D. Ace, Sabo

Notes: parts 2 of the period hcs with my 2 biggest comfort characters🥳. also, more than 50 likes on my first post, yall guys are so nice 🥺

━━☆⌒*.

Portgas D. Ace

I miss Ace 🥲

Girl, this man is like your personal heating pad. The Mera Mera no Mi is such a blessing to have

Gets all of his information about periods and what not from Macro, it’s a known fact.

In a way he’s like Zoro and Sanji combined. Definitely has no idea what a period is, and definitely makes sure you feel comfortable.

Like Zoro, Ace has no idea what a period is and will ask a thousand questions (of course that’s when Marco has to pull him away and explain). Still doesn’t hug you because he’s scared your gonna pop. Even if you tell him over and over again that he’s just being childish. However the 2 of you still sleep together but only when Ace is out cold will you have to wrap his arms around you

Also like Zoro he’s gives you way more space than you need. The doesn’t do it to upset you he just knows that your moods with changes quickly. Once you tell him that you don’t mind him getting close to you, you’ll kinda wish you had that space again.

And now, Like Sanji. This man will drop anything and everything for you. And I mean everything. He has chores to do? He’s never liked them in the first place. He had a report to give? Well the others can always wait. The navy’s attacking? The others can handle it. He’s honestly so clingy, and you love him for it you really do, but after a while, a girl needs her space.

And Ace doesn’t see anything wrong with dropping all this responsibilities. He’s only the 2nd commander, the worst case that could happen is getting scolded by Whitebeard and maybe beaten up by the others. But it’s nothing he hasn’t already lived through. He’ll be fine.

In all honesty, in his mind (once again like Zoro) ‘Blood = pain’ and that thought of having to bleed for 5-8 days straight once a month. Is practically even to make him pass out. He’s does not want to be part of that and he’s grateful for it too. Not to mention his respect for women sky rocketed

You also definitely gain at least 5 pounds. You mentioned once that you like to eat, especially sweets, when your on your period. And Ace took that personally. He literally risks he’s life to steal you food from Thatch’s kitchen. Pointless though because the whole ship knows it. I mean who else would steal half the junk food and all the chocolate once a month. And plus the 2 of you might not be the cleanest eaters, walking out of y’all’s room with crumbs all over each other.

This is where Doctor Marco tries to intervene too. Mans can’t help it, he’s a doctor. Probably says the same thing as Law, “drink lot of water, stretch, and don’t eat junk food!” Both of you don’t see the problem, your gonna lose all the weight when you fight anyways.

All in all. Ace is the best. He’ll help out with everything: do your extra chores, steal food, and rest a hand right above the pain just like a personal heating pad. Definitely does not know the healthiest way to take care of you on your period but he doesn’t care. He’s goes around saying, “Your pain is my pain!” And he disregards any healthy things that Marco tells him and does what’s gonna make you happy. Because that’s all that matters.

Y’all do not understand how much I love Ace 😭🥺

Sabo

omg I got a thing for blondes. Like Sanji and Sabo. Yes sir 🙇🏼‍♀️

One word: gentleman. It’s like he has his own period.

Knows what you want even before you want it. Craving water? Sabo’s got like 3 cup. Want something sweet? Sabo was just finishing decorating a cake. It was honestly so weird, you can’t even count how many double takes you did. At first you though it was because it was your first period since yall started dating but when it continued for a lot longer then you thought, you figured something was going on. So taking your skills you learned from pervious missions, you decided to do some investigation.

surprisingly it didn’t take long, seeing how everyone practically just told you. Turns out Sabo was getting help from a certain red head. it was probably the cutest thing Sabo did for you, even if he was getting help from Koala. and plus, seeing the flustered look at his face when you found out was so worth it. 

Although he was getting most of his tips and tricks from Koala he made sure to try at learn a bit about period so even when Koala isn’t around he can help.

Dating Sabo means that your no small fry, you pose quite a threat to the navy and you easily rose in the ranks of the revo army. And with the revo army not stopping anytime soon, you don’t find a lot of time to relax. Unlike the others you can’t just stop your responsibility for a whole week. You still have reports to give, missions to plan, and new recruits to train. Sometime if your lucky you’ll be able to convince Dragon and the other to lighten your work load, but you can’t always count on it

That’s the main reason why Sabo took the time to learn a bit about that topic. So for the those time where you do have to go on missions, he’ll know what to do and how to handle it. Neither of you 2 could just stop working, so the both of you made sure to come prepared 

and After long missions, the first think yall do when yall get back is take a bath together. Even if you have to be on your guard a bit so Sabo doesn’t do anything suggestive, you love the bath nonetheless. You practically don’t have to do anything, Sabo washes your hair and rubs any sore spots and even afterwards will rub lotion on you. Girl, his hands are like the best thing in the world, period or not. ok i may or may not have a thing for his hands

Ace and Sabo share one brain cell try and convene me other wise but you can easily expect the similar things with Sabo. ‘My pain is your pain’. Stolen snacks, 10 times more cuddles than usual, surprised gifts. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t mind doing you paper work, seeing how you already have to fight, its the least he can do. But in all honesty, if he did, he’d be up for days 

By the time you met him he already had the Mera Mera no Mi, so definitely a personal heating pad. He will have you sit in his lap, while he keeps a hand right above the part that’s cramping so you can work in peace.

because you can’t really get much of a break, Sabo makes sure to use the medical stuff he learned. He makes sure you drink lots of water, you stretch, and you stay away from junk food. He still wants to make sure you are still in top top shape for missions. Although we all know Sabo is a sucker for you and will so steal some for you. 

Although if it was really up to him, the 2 of you would do absolutely nothing. and just lay in bed and cuddle but we all know that won’t happen any time soon. but in the mean time, Sabo tries to make your period less stressful even if its the little things. 

[blonkk]

the problem ab being fat with an ed is that everyone rewards you for it. like they sing with genuine praise ab how “great you look” and say shit like “wow you really dropped weight you look amazing!!” with such like…admiration. and then you don’t want to disappoint them by getting fat again.

like girl how am i supposed to say thanks but that’s really triggering my desire to cut my fat off with scissors. thanks the reason is because i haven’t eaten in a week except for water and a cucumber a day. i’ll keep going tho!!

and then like i start eating more and just kind of eat along with everyone else and my weight and size compounds….like even when i’m not over eating at all i just get bigger….and i’m not a stagnant person i am active. i cannooooottttt take it anymore i cannot look at photos of myself and want to burn my eyeballs off and want to kill my self but idk what to do anymore!!!

and there’s sooo much shit about how everyone is insecure and no one’s perfect. no shit. the problem is that so many women/girls are genuinely completely fine and it is all in their heads but with me and other genuinely fat girls it’s completely different. like it’s not in our heads. people call us fat to insult us, clothes don’t fit, humiliation is a daily thing for whatever reason (we don’t fit in the backseat, hips knock things off tables, shopping isn’t “fun” it’s torture esp when your friend is saying “omg this is so cute try it on!!” and you’re like. how to i politely break it to you that theres no way that’s getting past my calfs. cuz they’ll respond “omgggg nooo ur so pretty” shut up!! i know my body thank u!!) ahem. all the “inclusive” brands have like…some bigger girls, but they’re all just…same as everyone else, just a little bigger. everyday it’s affirmed that actual girls who fall out of the “acceptable” body sizes are deviants - they are the butt of jokes in media. they are sexualized by being called “thick” “curvy” “real women” etc. people still call you fat by saying shit like “i wish i had an ass like yours!” “i’m so jealous of your confidence” bla bla fucking bla.

anyways like. having been smaller i KNOW how people treat you differently. girls are weird and treat you as more of a threat/competition instead of their harmless cute fat sidekick who could never get male attention. guys are “nicer” ie they just hit on you and sexualize you more.

like idk how do i straddle not wanting to be liked or respected or rewarded solely bc i’m less fat and feeling genuinely less invisible and insignificant and ugly when i am bigger (when i’m not starving/torturing myself). like i want people to like me for who i am but i don’t even like me, especially when i’m not torturing myself to be smaller. it feels so weak and lazy.

the truth is that i don’t give a shit about body positivity or body neutrality or my actual health. i want to be skinny. that’s literally all i’ve ever wanted. i want to wear what i want without having to worry if it “suits my body type”. i want to try shit on without wondering if the store even carries my size. i want to be in photos without having to position myself so precisely or just have my head in without feeling the need to erase the thought of my appearance from my mind completely after seeing them. i want to stop avoiding mirrors and being obsessed with how i appear to everyone every second of the day. i don’t want everyone to tell me “you look fine! you look great here!” at a picture or whatever where i literally look like someone’s fat aunt who they’re just humouring….like that’s how everyone sees me?… that even worse than i thought!!!

like it’s so exhausting and dehumanizing trying to explain to people who don’t live like this what it’s like. they don’t fucking get it. “you’re fine, people do like you, your actually gorgeous, think more positively” how about i knife you right now. i KNOOOWWW how the world/individual people treat me. i know the closest people to me have seen me starving, purging, and more and just didn’t say anything because they honestly thought that it’s fine because i am actually fat, and i’m not in any danger. it’s really hard and all i know is that this is gonna be the rest of my fucking life and i don’t know how i’m gonna continue doing it

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - iv (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The wedding and the consummation.

Warnings: poorly written SMUT (18+. Minors DNI), loss of virginity, mentions of character death, I forget to put this but there is an AGE GAP between Steve and the reader (the ages aren’t explicitly noted, Oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, breeding (but it’s not a kink?), Steve’s not an asshole (omg wow)

Word Count: 4k (got carried away)

Bring Him Light Masterlist

I hope you guys enjoy!

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

Two days went by quickly. It was a blur. In a blink of an eye, you weren’t standing in front of Steven in the halls of the castle, but was dawning on your wedding gown for the final time as your ladies and your mother fawned around you, trying to get you ready.

Wanda fluffed out the skirt and then fiddled with your hair, opting for a regal updo. Your mother smiled at you through the mirror as she smoothed out your shoulder. Natasha added the vail as soon as Wanda was finished.

“Don’t cry, mother,” you muttered when you noticed her teary eyes. She gave you a tight lipped smile as she laughed a bit and dabbed her eyes.

“Two weeks ago, you tried to run away because you didn’t want this day to come. Now, you’re standing before me in a wedding dress as the beautiful, blushing bride. I wonder what’s changed.” Your mother said. You detected a hint of sorrow in her voice. You deducted that it was her coming to realize that you were no longer her baby girl. You were to become a woman that night and crowned a queen soon enough.

“I’m still a virgin mother,” you lightly joked in an attempt to brighten her mood. It worked. She rolled her eyes and laughed. Natasha and Wanda giggled as they did the finishing touches.

You were trembling as you stood at the top of the staircase. You heard murmurs of excitement in the floor beneath you. Everyone eager to see the merge of House York and House Rogers. You stared at the bouquet in your shaking hands. White roses accented with tiny forget-me-nots. Wanda told you that King Steven handpicked them in the gardens.

You glanced back at Natasha who gave you an encouraging nod as the organ began to play. The crowd quickly fell into silence as you slowly descended from the top of the staircase. Each step was a weight being lifted from you. It became easier and easier – almost to the point where you felt as if you were floating as light as air.

Your father met you at the bottom of the staircase. He smiled at you as you revealed yourself to him for the very first time. He wasn’t teary-eyed like your mother. Perhaps it was because as a king – as a man – he refused to show any weakness.

“You look beautiful,” he muttered to you as he presented you his arm and you took it.

You weren’t sure where to look as you rounded the corner and made it to the open throne room doors. You felt all the stares on you at once. It made you want to shrink into yourself – disappear if you could. So, instead, you kept your own stare straight and you were glad you did.

At the end of the aisle stood King Steven. His hair had been cut and his beard was gone. He looked like his portraits. But there was something different. Perhaps it was the faint smile on his lips that quivered at the sight of you. Wait… No… it was the eyes. Portraits made his blue eyes, dark, cold, unnerving.

But in this light, the man standing, waiting for you to be at his side, had different eyes. Tearful yet joyful. Excited. He stared at you with adoration. The sunset that poured in through the massive windows made him a sight to behold.

Your father gave you a kiss on the forehead and a small nod as he pulled his arm away from you. He handed you over to the other king. The two exchanged a look. A father giving warning to his daughter’s future husband. Treat her right, your father’s look said.

You turned and handed your bouquet to Natasha before you and Steven kneeled before the bishop. The wedding contracts were brought out. Steven signed first. Your hands trembled as you took a grip on the quill. You glanced over at your parents, who smiled and nodded. There was no going back now – and perhaps, you didn’t want to. With a deep breath, you signed your name and the ceremony continued.

»————-　⚜　————-��«

You fiddled with the tassels of the cloak that was wrapped around your shoulders. It was a Brooken tradition that the husband wraps his bride in a cloak, or a tapestry of some kind, to bring her under his protection. The music blared on as excited chatter flooded the hall.

You were exhausted and had just finished dancing with your husband. The entire kingdom – or at least the ones who were in the castle – saw a change in the king. They remembered his last wedding to Queen Sharon many years before and how he danced with his bride once before retiring to his seat for the entire evening.

That king was gone. They knew it from the moment he refused to let you leave the dancefloor, making you dance with him for what felt like ages. The king who rarely smiled or laughed was like a child on Christmas when he stared down at you, when he held you to him, when he kissed you gently on the lips.

The change was welcomed though whispers about your demise was still being spread. Sure, the king seemed happy now. They hoped you would make him happy for the rest of his life, but the idea that King Steven’s queens were cursed or the idea that the king kills his wives still hung in the air. But no one dared bring it up on this day. This day was to be a joyous day. Brooken has a new queen. Their king has a new wife.

As the night dwindled down, you’ve lost count of how many lords and ladies bowed before you and your husband, all wishing you blessings and fruitful lives. Many meant it. King Steven was the last of his line and without an heir, the throne would go to Brock Rumlow who others despised. They wished that you would bring the king a son. Many envious ladies bowed before you, all who wished they were the one at the king’s side. Even Lord Rumlow and Lord Pierce toasted to your health and happy marriage.

A woman came up to the royal table. She was the date of one of Steven’s distant cousins – far too distant that he had no chance of gaining support to take the throne in the event the king dies without an heir. You heard the whispers and snickers from the ladies of the court the moment the woman arrived. “Witch,” they said. Neither you nor Steven believed in magic but decided to entertain the woman out of respect for his cousin. As distant as he may have been, he was still family.

She began muttering foreign words. Gasps erupting around you. The foreign words, from a witch of all people, was perceived as a threat – was she cursing you? Was she wishing death upon you or the king? Your father stood up in outrage as did your husband. His cousin put up his hands when guards started to surround them.

“It’s a fertility spell, your majesties!” He defended. “A fertility spell for the new bride’s womb!” Steven visibly relaxed, settling back into his seat. His hand found yours underneath the table. You tried to soothe him and rubbed small circles with your thumb although you were also rattled, thinking this woman might been the cause of the “cursed wives” rumor. You clenched your jaw and thanked his cousin and the woman as soon as she finished.

“I find that mildly offensive,” your father said as soon as he left. You laughed although you subtly felt the same.

“He’s a distant cousin.” Steven reminded, slightly embarrassed that someone from his family had the audacity to bring in “magical” assistance – and here everyone in Brooken thought the Starks were a strange family.

“Of course,” you chuckled. He glanced over at you, entranced by your smile. The dress, the flowers, everything made you look angelic. Steven couldn’t help himself but lean in and capture your lips with his.

“Well, I guess it’s time, then.” Your father said with a chuckle. You pulled away from your husband’s lips and felt heat rise to your cheeks. It felt strange showing affection in front of your parents, especially since a fortnight ago you were refusing to marry the king you now called your husband.

It was announced that you and the king would retire for the consummation. The music played on as your guests continued to dance and socialize among themselves. As you both excited the hall, there were whoops and cheers from the crowd. Some whispered and hoped that you would conceive Brooken’s heir this night. Your husband gave your hand a last kiss before you were swept away by your ladies to prepare for your wedding night.

Wanda had undone your hair as soon as Natasha managed to undo all laces of the corset. You bit at your fingernails nervously as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were pale. A fear stricken young lady stood before you. Shivering and frightened, unsure of how tonight’s events would play out.

“Will it hurt?” You asked the two though you didn’t quite know why. They were both unwed. They were still maidens. Surely, they wouldn’t have any advice.

Wanda and Natasha glanced at one another, unsure of what to say. Should they lie to their queen? Say whatever they can to ease your nerves and lure you into a false sense of security when you lay with your husband for the first time? Or should they be truthful to their friend? Tell you the stories they hear from the whispers of other married women and the courtesans that entertained the unwed lords?

They chose to prepare you for what’s to come. There was no use in lying.

“It may, but just relax and breathe through it,” Natasha offered with a nervous smile. “The ladies say the men like to do the work, so let him work.”

Wanda put the cloak back on your shoulders, covering your night slip and your body underneath the heavy fabric. “Breathing is good.” She nodded. She wasn’t quite sure what else to tell you either. Your friend wanted to tell you that if it hurt too much to tell the king to stop, but she knew the advice would be pointless. As queen – as the king’s wife – it was your duty to bear him children at whatever cost and the marriage had to be consummated.

“We should go…” Natasha muttered. She put her hands on your shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

-=+=-

You were in the king’s bedchambers first. You were surprised to see that it was empty. You expected Steven to be inside already waiting for you. Your ladies bid you their farewells as they left, leaving you to sit on the giant bed and contemplate. You were shaking. Your leg started to bounce against the floor.

As you got lost in your thoughts, the chamber doors opened to reveal Steven. He wore a white night shirt with matching trousers. You gulped as you stood up, straightening out your nightgown and interlocking your fingers in front of your stomach. This was happening.

“How should you have me?” You asked. Your voice was barely above a whisper and shook as you spoke. Steven didn’t respond. The silence was deafening and you couldn’t bare sit in it for any longer.

He smiled. “Pardon?” He heard you, but he just wanted to hear you say it again. So, you repeated the words. Steven bit his lip that curled into a grin and shook his head, a laugh escaping him. Your face fell… was he not interested in you? Did you not … did you not arouse him? As if reading your mind, he rushed in front of you and took your hands in his. “I do not laugh to make fun of you, (Y/N). I simply found it amusing.”

“You find me amusing… and not arousing?” You questioned, feeling doubt and insecure.

He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I simply mean that I have not heard a woman ask me that before I bedded her.” He pressed another kiss to your temple, inhaling that intoxicating scent. “I want you to enjoy this… This is your first after all.” He began to kiss his way down from your temple to your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck. You relished in the feeling, a tingling sensation taking over your body as he left open-mouthed kisses on the delicate skin of your neck. “If you’re uncomfortable, if it hurts – if I hurt you, please let me know.”

You nodded. You couldn’t find the words. Maybe it was because of your nerves, or perhaps you were drowning in the feeling of his lips on your skin. You weren’t quite sure.

He removed the cloak from your shoulders and began to kiss down to your collarbones as his fingers slowly began to unravel the loose ties of your nightgown. You were shaking, still. Before he considered pulling the gown off, he leaned in, ghosting over your lips with his before planting one gentle kiss.

“Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your jaw with one hand. You nodded. “Truthfully?”

“I’m frightened.” You admitted.

“Don’t be. I’ll be careful and if you tell me to stop, I will. God willing, we will have a lifetime of conceiving heirs ahead of us. It needn’t be done this night.”

“We must consummate the marriage.”

“Not at the expense of your comfort.”

“Please…” You murmured. “Please just touch me.”

Without another word, his lips found yours again. His hands scrunched at the skirt of the slip and slowly brought it up and over your body. He took a moment to admire you as the chilly night air met your skin. Goosebumps rose on your skin although you weren’t sure if it was from the air or from Steven’s stare. You felt your face flush as your hands instinctively tried to cover yourself.

“You’re beautiful,” Steven said. Gently unwrapping your arms from your body as if you were a present. He led you to the massive bed. His eyes never left yours as he removed his nightshirt, baring himself to you.

Your eyes widened. Of course, you were aware of the king’s massive build. His fancy clothes and coats did not hide his shoulders very well. He was like one of his sculptures – absolutely breathtaking. He slowly started to pull his trousers down, so you bashfully looked away, feeling your face heat up even more.

Steven crawled over you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. His hands brushed your hair away from your face, cupping you with his massive palms. You felt something hard rub against your thigh. You weren’t naïve enough to be unsure of what it was… You knew.

He licked at your bottom lip. You weren’t sure what that meant so you paid it no mind. One of his hands abandoned your face and slowly slithered down to your slickening folds. You moaned when he stroked against a bud within the folds. He took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth and you didn’t hate the feeling.

You remembered Natasha’s advice – “let him work” – and decided to let him dominate the kiss and the pace. Your skin tingled as your lower region increasingly became heated underneath Steven’s ministrations.

He kissed your lips once more before slowly descending down your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. Your eyes widened in realization and embarrassment as you tried to pull yourself from underneath him, but his hands grabbed at your thighs and held you in place.

“Steven – “

“Trust me.” He muttered, staring up at you from between your thighs. When you relaxed into his touch, he gave one broad-tongued lick to your folds. The sensation made you threw your head back into the pillows with your eyes closed.

Steven pulled apart your lower lips and focused his tongue on the same bud. You couldn’t hold in the moans that escaped you. Your hands blindly lost themselves in his golden locks. You couldn’t help imagine how this would feel if Steven hadn’t shaved his beard.

He had you gasping. Your walls were clenching around nothing until he slowly inserted a finger. You flinched, but his tongue working its way through you dulled the ache. With the single finger, he stroked against your walls, exploring your tight channel. A coil started to tighten in your stomach. He groaned against your cunt and your thighs clenched his head, holding him in place – not that he minded.

Another finger was pushed into you which caused you to squeak. A spark was sent through your body. “Steven…” you murmured, but he didn’t respond, too caught up in you. He thrusted and curled his fingers as you clenched. His tongue was relentless as if you were a fine wine that he couldn’t get enough of. “St – Steven…” You moaned your husband’s name as you felt the coil snap and you felt yourself gush around the king’s fingers. He returned your moan with his own as he lapped up your juices.

Your chest was rising and falling heavily as your thighs released their hold on the king’s head. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his smirk. His lips and chin shined in the candlelight. His tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping up what was left of you on his lips and fingers, using the back of his hand to wipe away his chin.

“You alright?” He asked you.

“Wh – What happened?”

Steven smiled at you. You were so innocent. You were a sight to behold beneath him. Naked with your exposed skin covered in a sheen of sweat and lips swollen from his kiss. “You orgasmed,” he told you. You flushed at his words. “Are you ready, my love?” You nodded.

It was only then you saw his member for the first time. Your eyes widened at the sight. You remembered your comment to one of your father’s councilmen – “men who are well endowed give their wives sons.”

If you did fall pregnant this night, you were certain that the king would breed a son within you.

Steven was kneeling between your knees. He bent your legs and widened them, giving him a better look at your dripping cunt. He pumped his member a few times and teased you with the tip.

You took a deep breath and winced as the head penetrated you. Slowly, he started to push into you, watching his cock enter you. You felt your entire body clench as you struggled to accommodate to his sizeable girth.

The pressure, the stretch it felt unbearable. You winced and groaned out in pain. Steven stopped moving.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“It… It’s fine.” You answered with a strained voice. The king shook his head and began to retreat from within you, but you shook your head as your legs unraveled to wrap around his torso, keeping him in place. His movements halted as he stared at you with concern. “Keep going…” You begged. “Please…”

Hesitantly, the king began to push into you again. After long beats of intense pressure and the feeling of being torn open, the king had finally sheathed his length into your maidenhood. He leaned over your body so that he completely entrapped you underneath him. He peppered your face – cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, anything his lips could touch – with light kisses as he whispered sweet nothings and praises into your ear.

“Can I move?” He whispered. You nodded.

Slowly, the king pulled out little by little only to gently push right in, acquainting your walls with him. On one particular thrust, you jolted as he grazed a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed. You felt a rush of pleasure despite still being in a bit of pain. Steven reveled in your reaction as your winces soon became moans.

His thrusts were gentle although he had begun a steady speed. He groaned into your ear – the sound going straight into your hot core. “You feel so good,” his voice was like a growl.

The sound of skin slapping was faint, muddled by the pleasure-riddled sounds that left yours and Steven’s lips. Sensitive from your previous orgasm, you already felt that familiar coil begin to tighten. You involuntarily clenched around the king’s cock. He groaned at the sensation, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He gently bit at the skin and kissed the bruises that formed.

“Steve – Steven!” You moaned, your back caving as the coil snapped for a second time that night. Your walls were like a vice on the king, milking him and tempting him.

He moaned out your name in kind, slamming his hips into yours which made you gasp. A warm feeling spread throughout your sex. The king stayed inside of you. His head still buried into your neck. Both of you were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, kissing the delicate skin of your décolletage. Still breathless, you shook your head. Steven pulled away from your neck and grabbed one of the many pillows behind you. Carefully, he pulled out of you – you winced at the sudden emptiness – and placed the pillow underneath your waist, elevating your pelvis. You thought if this was another Brooken tradition, but then realized it was to keep his seed inside of you.

Steven settled to your side. An arm wrapping around your stomach as he nuzzled into your body. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you turned your head to stare at him.

“I … “you said but stopped yourself. You clenched your jaw, unsure of how to recover. You felt butterflies in your stomach – though, it could’ve just been the king’s seed.

Steven leaned in to kiss you gently. You smiled against his lips. Perhaps, this life could be great after all.

»————-　⚜　————-««

Your parents were quiet on their journey home. It’s been three days since your wedding. Your mother teased your father about your sudden radiance as you walked through the castles. They would miss your coronation, but they did have their own kingdom to handle.

The joys of the wedding were left at Brooken as they embarked on their journey back to York. Your mother’s teasing nature and happy smiles were gone as she stared out the carriage window. Your father had a gloomy expression to match.

“I hope she gets pregnant soon…” Your mother muttered.

“I’d rather not talk about my daughter’s sexual escapades.” Your father half-joked. His mood didn’t brighten.

“We should’ve told her.”

“If we told her, she wouldn’t have gotten married and she would’ve pushed to be brought home.” Your father sighed. He raised a fighter. An arguer. A bright young woman that was now a queen.

“She has a right to know.” Your mother reasoned.

“You were alone with her more than I was. You had the chance to tell her. Why didn’t you?” Your father snapped. His wife stayed silent. The tension in the carriage was so thick that a blade wouldn’t even cut through it.

Queen Virginia sniffled. Your father’s hard expression softened as he wrapped his arm around his queen, pulling her to his side. She curled into his chest as she began to cry.

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I will outlive my own son.” Your mother cried. Her voice cracked as a sob escaped her. The words broke Tony’s heart. “I brought him into this world. He was meant to be a king…”

“No one could’ve foreseen his illness,” your father soothed. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arms to comfort her.

“He will leave us in a few months’ time… Will she even have the opportunity to say goodbye?”

“It’s better she doesn’t know. She will leave Steven’s side and he will be crushed when his queen refuses to stay by him.”

“She deserves to say goodbye to her brother, Tony.”

“I agree, my love,” your father sighed. “But when the time comes, when Harvey dies and I, god willing, long after, she will truly unite the north. The North will be one under her rule as the rightful queen of York and Brooken. Long may (Y/N) Rogers reign.”