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tautozhone · 6 months ago

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i feel like a good majority of what i could possibly say about this has already said, but i can’t resist chiming in anyway. i think using some of these terms as some sort of integrated part of a synopsis doesn’t really bother me. like i’ve certainly found a lot of my favorite fanfic tropes work their way into my writing somehow, that’s just the nature of influence & inspiration. this isn’t bad, tropes are tropes and they can sell books, i just think the delivery of it is what matters most. what’s so infuriating about it is in fact the corporate feeling that it’s just a marketing tactic, whether the story was built solely around some tropes or not, this is all a horrible product of corporations realizing and recognizing fandom, for the worst in most ways.

hypothetically if i came across an author on booktok who said “follow the lives of A and B as their tumultuous business rivalry turns to a tense friendship. A, owning a coffee shop adjacent to the cafe that B runs, finds themself caught up in a complicated web of emotion upon having to move in with the last person they would have expected. occupying the same space together proves difficult, both A and B finding it nearly impossible to avoid each other. as both businesses threaten to go under, nothing can possibly get in the way of focusing on what truly matters. watch as A and B teeter on the fence between love and hate as they each fight to out-pace the other, no matter the circumstance” i would find it more intriguing than an author saying “do you like friends to lovers? and then they’re roomates? and it’s a coffee shop business rivals slowburn?? then golly this book is for you!!” at this point darling you told me nothing hooked me on something i could get from ao3, FFnet, etc and SOMEHOW i do feel you spoiled the drama along the way. a lot of readers will likely react this way. listing tropes gets interest from those who know them, like them, would want to read them, but where’s the rest of the incentive to actually engage with your story instead of just going and finding a fanfic that delivers more information than what you’re giving.

i think “get creative with it” will always trump “don’t use it at all” at least if you ask me. however we aren’t talking about placing sleeper codes for potential audiences, this fandom focus were starting to see in entertainment as a whole is some deliberate advertisement and marketing. of course it has a hollow feeling to it, of course it feels like the story itself is always id coming second to the getting-you-to-read-it bullshit. authorship as a whole has been warped by ideas of target audiences, marketable ideas, originality and uniqueness, all taking massive priority over engaging storytelling.

id ask what the actual fuck happened to the idea of promoting a work as a whole, or it’s starting point, or it’s general summary, just something not standing as disjointed boiled down phrases- if i did not already feel the answer. it’s an unsurprising one.

capitalism values creation as product and profit. never as a process, never as an act of passion but as means for monetary gain. marketing on listing tropes screams “we only care about the concept of industry entertainment and easy attention grabbing here, nothing of substance to see unless you buy the book to find out if any of these tropes are well executed at all, and the less you know before buying the more we hope that makes you buy anyway”. this shit thrives even more with rampant consumption, all of it ends up so short lived because they need readers to move on to the next idea as quickly as the last one fades.

tldr: if anyone- reader or publisher- ever asks me to summarize my work with fanfic tropes, i am hexing them and cursing their bloodline.

Sorry it’s early but you really can’t use fanfiction terms in a non fanfiction context like if someone is trying to sell me a book to read and they tell me there’s an enemy to lovers I would be annoyed because why are you spoiling the story lol

#tauto talks #for the life of me i’m not making up characters with substance to give examples of how tropes can be weeded into stuff #not in the way it feels you are advertising solely on the concept of tropes but instead…. advertising your work…#trying to hook a reader that enjoys enemies to lovers doesn’t feel like an offense until you’re literally only going ‘its enemies to lovers’#WHO are they WHATS happening in at least the beginning of the story and WHY are they enemies anyway #WHAT circumstances happen that changes the relationship and HOW do they deal with this #not to go who/what/when/where/why on this but readers tend to have very basic questions of interest they need answered before they want to #engage with a work #listing tropes answers a lot of what happens but almost nothing else #whats the point of just listing tropes unless you literally constructed the whole story around JUST the tropes #it isn’t even that hard to repackage shit if that’s the case even. literally just know people want information and not a list #if i said mad scientist + body horror + dead dove do not eat i could be talking about so many fucking classics but due to being nuts ab it #that would be frankenstein boiled down to a ‘top three tropes!!’ list #screams and throws up at the thought of all literature being spoken of with the most hollow tactics #like just advertising and marketing tactics i mean. what used to be terms very good for categorizing fanfiction and tagging fanfiction #has been co-opted horribly as the idea of fandom = profit hit wider parts of society #like i get it. i’m an author. i understand how appealing the idea of boiling my stories down to easily understandable #phrases could be easy. it could get some people interested #the problem is even if i thought it was within my personal values to do that? literally impossible personally. i cannot isolate #small pieces of a wider narrative just to gamify describing my story #it just takes away so much #it’s so narrow and dare i say shallow #anyway fuck capitalism #anyway !!!!!

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rat-rosemary · 7 months ago

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Something I have been feeling but just figured out in the shower

I hate the concept of "chronically online"

It was getting long so, under the cut o7

I do understand it's use when it's to talk about people who have lost grasp of reality, normally because they're stuck in an online bubble who exclaims that certain things that aren't really issues are the end of the world and incentivese that person to create harmful habits and act in a, for a lack of better term, bad manner

But most times it's just... a person engaging in a community

I say this because a friend of mine called me chronically online, and when I asked them why I was chronically online their example was "Well, you know what the Mandela effect is"

And yes, I do. But it feels wrong that that would make me Chronically Online, because it implies that there is something wrong with me knowing that.

And I know about it from one random post from years ago, but also from the Mandela Catelogue, which a lot of people here must know because it's the biggest analogue horror series of recent years

And... Idk, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth to imply that there's something wrong with me knowing those things

Is it wrong of me to engage in midia? To watch and enjoy indie series?

Or is it wrong of me to be on an in-joke? Have I lost track of reality because I know what "loss" is?

Or, is it wrong of me to engage in niche online communities? Have I lost sense of reality because I know and can tell you about the Onegaverse? I can also tell you about banana cloning and why banana plantations are so fragile when it comes to disease. Does that make me Chronically On-farm?

In the end I feel like most times Chronically Online it's just used as a new way to shame people who engage in fandoms, like you can't have fun with people who enjoy the same thing as you and know this group's jokes without being wrong and out of touch

Resumed: I think Chronically Online is just a new way to shame people and call them Nerds and Geeks and Freaks for engaging in their hobbies

#the dog barks #adding this here but the other example this friend gave is that I always know about mcyt drama #and thats felt weird because... yeah obviously #that is my community. i enjoy being part of it and that means I hear when things happen #once again. I get when its to talk about someone who is genuinely acting inappropriate and losing track of reality #but most cases its just #'oh you engage with this community and know these things because of it?'#'oh so youre a freak an outsider someone who doesn't know the right way to interact with the world'#this came just after I realized that I hadnt chanced my hobbies from when I was younger #when I was little I loved to read. I could easily go through a book in one day #now that Im older... I love to read. I can easily go through a fanfic in a day #anyway #have this #discourse #dtblr #<- yes this is my fandom Im not ashamed to tag it

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moonxknightx · 3 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MEET THE FAMILY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men & MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After your dad, Tony Stark, finds out you’re dating Logan, he insists the whole Avengers team meet him. Nervous but with Logan by your side, you head to the compound, with Wade tagging along. The Avengers are curious and a little skeptical, especially Tony, but Logan holds his own during dinner. He impresses the team with his confidence and clear care for you, even earning Tony’s reluctant approval by the end of the night. Despite the initial tension, Logan becomes a part of your chaotic family, and everyone accepts him.

Part 2

THE COMPOUND WAS QUIET. Too quiet. You'd been on edge ever since Happy had called you that morning, voice full of that awkward yet endearing nervousness he always got when delivering bad—or rather, inconvenient—news.

“Your dad knows.”

Three words that had set your entire day into a downward spiral of anxiety. Of course, Tony would find out. He had eyes and ears everywhere, despite you trying to keep things on the down low. And now, he had apparently told everyone.

Your boyfriend, Logan, sat beside you on the drive to the Avengers compound, eyes fixed on the road, completely unfazed. He was never one to be easily rattled. He hadn’t even batted an eye when you mentioned the entire Avengers team was going to be waiting to meet him. If anything, he just lit a cigar and shrugged, saying, "Not the first time I've been sized up by a bunch of superheroes."

Logan was like that. Unbothered. Calm in the face of impending chaos.

Unlike you.

You let out a deep sigh, clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter. "You know, we could just make a U-turn right now," you muttered, hoping, praying he’d take you up on the offer.

Logan chuckled, the low rumble soothing and maddening all at once. "Nah, darlin'. We’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Logan, it's my dad. My dad, who, mind you, is Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Overprotective father extraordinaire. I love him, but he’s going to grill you."

He smirked, one of those self-assured, slightly cocky looks that made your heart skip. "I’ve been through worse, trust me."

You were about to respond when a voice suddenly piped up from the backseat, startling you both.

“Hey, so what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not shawarma. I had that yesterday, and let me tell you, intestinal distress doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Wade?!”

The red-suited mercenary, Wade Wilson—aka Deadpool—grinned as he popped his head between the seats. "Who else? You thought I’d miss a chance to meet the Avengers again? Besides, I’ve got a bet with myself to see which of them cracks first. My money’s on Banner. Big guy’s got a short fuse."

You groaned. “Wade, you weren’t even invited.”

"Yeah, but you love me," Wade said with a wink. "Plus, I’m the one who introduced you two lovebirds, so technically, I’m responsible for all of this.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement there. He had a weird, chaotic friendship with Wade that baffled you at times. Still, Wade had been the one to introduce you to Logan in the first place. After one of those typical Wade escapades where you'd found yourself smack dab in the middle of a multiverse-saving mission, Logan had swooped in, gruff and full of snark, but undeniably magnetic. You'd been hooked ever since.

"Alright, just... please don't say anything weird when we get there. This is already going to be awkward enough as it is."

Wade gave you a salute. "Scout's honor, kiddo."

When you arrived at the compound, Logan strode beside you, a protective yet calm presence. Wade, naturally, flanked the other side, completely unfazed by the prospect of facing a room full of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As you entered the living area, the first to greet you was not your father, but Morgan Stark, Tony’s precocious little daughter, who ran up to you with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Morgs," you greeted, bending down to hug her.

Her eyes immediately shifted to Logan, who watched the interaction with a faint smile. "Is this him?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You nodded, a little nervous. "Yup. Morgan, this is Logan."

Morgan looked up at him with wide eyes, studying him. Logan crouched down to her level, his usually gruff demeanor softening just a bit. “You must be Morgan. Your sister talks about you all the time."

Morgan beamed. "You’re tall."

Logan chuckled. “And you’re smart.”

Morgan grinned and then, in typical kid fashion, dashed off, satisfied with her judgment. "I like him!" she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

One down.

Then the rest of the team filtered in—Tony, Pepper, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and even Rhodey. They all sized Logan up in their own way.

Tony, of course, was the first to speak.

"So," he said, voice casual but his eyes sharp, "this is the guy?"

Logan straightened up, meeting Tony's gaze with that signature, unflinching confidence. "Yup."

Tony took a moment, probably running a full background check in his mind before nodding. “Alright. Dinner’s almost ready, but first, I think the team’s got some questions.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a polite smile. “Logan, right? How’d you two meet?”

Before you could respond, Wade butted in.

“Oh, it’s a great story!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. “So, picture this—alternate dimensions, worlds colliding, typical Tuesday stuff. I’m getting my ass handed to me by some bad guys—”

“I don’t remember it that way,” you interjected.

“Shh, let me have this moment. Anyway, I call in Logan here for backup, because duh, claws and healing factor, and then boom, sparks fly between these two.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked between you and Logan. "Sparks?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but Wade was too quick. "Like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Or maybe that was an explosion—I can't remember."

Logan sighed, clearly used to Wade's antics by now. “We met on a mission. Wade was being a pain in the ass, as usual. Your girl here held her own, and I liked that."

Your face heated up at Logan’s praise. You noticed Natasha and Steve exchanging a look. Clint leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, lips quirking up slightly as if he was already sizing Logan up.

“Multiverse missions, huh?" Clint finally said. "That must’ve been fun.”

Logan smirked, locking eyes with Clint, both men now in some sort of unspoken stare-off. “Fun's one way to put it.”

Clint didn’t break eye contact but gave a slow, approving nod. “So you’re used to the crazy life. Good.”

Thor, ever the enthusiastic one, stepped forward next, looking Logan up and down. "Ah, a fellow warrior, no doubt!" He clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, earning a slight grunt from him. “Tell me, Logan, have you faced a frost giant before? Or perhaps a horde of dark elves?”

Logan gave a half-shrug, completely unfazed by Thor’s boisterous personality. “Haven’t seen those specifically, but I’ve fought my fair share of things with claws, teeth, and bad attitudes.”

Thor laughed heartily, clearly impressed. "Then we shall have many stories to exchange!"

Bruce, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up. "So, uh... any anger management issues we should be aware of?" He asked it cautiously, but you could see the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wade snorted. "Banner, you're one to talk."

Logan just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Let’s just say I know how to handle myself.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard about you. Wolverine, right? Healing factor, claws, indestructible skeleton."

Logan nodded once. "That’s me."

She studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod. “Impressive.”

Tony, though silent for most of the interaction, was still sizing Logan up. You could feel the weight of your dad’s expectations hanging over the room. He wasn’t one to just roll over and let things be.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, leaning back with a scrutinizing look. “You’ve been around a long time. Done a lot, I assume. How exactly do you plan on handling my daughter?”

Logan didn’t flinch under Tony’s gaze. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “She can handle herself just fine, Stark. But if you're asking if I’ve got her back? Always.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Even Wade had paused from whatever chaotic inner monologue he had going. The weight of Logan’s words, his seriousness, seemed to sink into everyone.

Tony’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time that night, his expression softened. A flicker of something—acceptance, maybe—passed across his face.

“Well,” Tony said, standing up and smoothing his shirt. “In that case, I suppose we should eat.”

As everyone began to move toward the dining room, you felt Logan’s hand slide into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

“They like you,” you whispered.

Logan shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “More importantly, they love you.”

You leaned into him slightly as you both followed the rest of the Avengers. And as for Logan? He had passed the test.

As the group settled into the dining room, the mood shifted slightly—less tense, more familial. The Avengers took their seats around the long table, conversations gradually picking up, but you couldn’t shake the subtle glances they kept throwing Logan’s way. It was clear they were still sizing him up in their own way.

Logan, for his part, remained calm. He was good at reading a room, better at letting things roll off his back. You’d noticed that about him early on—he had this way of commanding a space just by being in it, without the need for flashy words or grand gestures. Even so, you could tell by the way his hand remained close to yours that he was paying attention to every little detail. Watching, listening, judging.

Morgan was seated next to Tony, happily talking to Pepper about something she’d done at school that week, her occasional glance toward Logan full of childlike curiosity and approval. To her, Logan wasn’t an intimidating figure. He was your boyfriend—nothing more, nothing less. The simplicity of it warmed your heart.

Dinner was served, and Wade, who had somehow managed to squeeze in between Natasha and Clint, immediately started in on a loud, entirely unprompted story about a mission in Madripoor that no one really asked for.

“So there I was, pinned down by a mob of highly trained ninja assassins—yes, they exist, Steve—and I’m about to go down for the count when Logan here comes in with the whole snikt, snikt thing,” Wade mimed Logan’s claws extending with dramatic flair, “and saves my beautiful behind from a fate worse than death: losing my taco night.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, because that’s clearly the priority in a life-or-death situation.”

“Exactly!” Wade pointed enthusiastically, as if Steve had just made his point for him. “This guy gets it.”

Natasha leaned back, smirking as she cut into her food. “So, Logan saved your life, and that’s how the two of you met?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not exactly. Logan and I didn’t really meet officially until a little later. Wade just… happened to be there. Per usual.”

“Per usual, my dear?” Wade gasped dramatically. “You wound me. You wouldn’t have even met this tall drink of Canadian water if it weren’t for me!”

Logan gave a quiet grunt of amusement, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he caught your eye, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Wade continued his rambling story.

Thor, who had been listening intently to Wade’s increasingly exaggerated tale, turned to Logan, looking genuinely intrigued. “So, Wolverine, your claws—are they forged of enchanted metal, much like Mjölnir?”

Logan paused, mid-chew, and raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Not exactly. Adamantium. Strongest metal on Earth. Had it grafted to my skeleton a long time ago.”

Thor nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! A most noble addition. I myself am well-acquainted with weaponry of such caliber. Though I must admit,” he leaned in slightly, “I would be most curious to see them in action.”

Logan gave a low chuckle. “Maybe after dessert.”

As the conversation drifted on, Logan slowly began to settle in. Steve asked him a few more questions about his past—carefully avoiding anything too personal or traumatic—and Clint, always the quiet observer, seemed to be assessing Logan from across the table, eyes sharp but not unkind.

Tony, meanwhile, hadn’t said much since dinner started. He watched everything, listened to everyone, but remained quiet, only offering the occasional comment or quip. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was still processing. As much as Tony trusted your judgment, the whole “overprotective dad” thing didn’t exactly disappear overnight.

“So,” Tony finally spoke up, setting his fork down as the rest of the table quieted. “You’ve been through a lot. War, battles, more than most people could handle in one lifetime. And yet, here you are.”

Logan glanced at him, not quite sure where this was going, but he nodded. “Yeah. Seen more than my share.”

Tony leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his gaze sharpened, narrowing slightly as if he was putting Logan through one last test. “My daughter’s important to me— really important. You say you’ve got her back, and I respect that. But if you’re sticking around… you’re gonna need to know one thing.”

The room stilled. Even Wade had gone quiet, which was a rare feat. Logan met Tony’s stare head-on, not a trace of intimidation or hesitation in his gaze.

“What’s that?” Logan asked evenly.

Tony exhaled, his expression softening—just a fraction. “This family? We’ve been through hell. Lost people we cared about. We’ve had our world flipped upside down more times than I can count. And the thing is… when you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures. No walking away when things get tough. You stick it out. You fight for the people who matter.”

Logan didn’t blink. His gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to Tony. “That’s how I’ve always lived.”

Tony nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was a weight to that moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever final test Tony had in mind, it seemed Logan had passed.

Pepper, sensing the shift, smiled softly and placed a hand on Tony’s arm, quietly grounding him. “Dinner was wonderful,” she said warmly, breaking the tension. “I think we’ve had enough grilling for one night.”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You’ve survived the inquisition. Impressive.”

Logan shrugged. “Didn’t seem all that bad.”

Rhodey laughed. “You’re lucky. The last guy that showed up to date one of Stark’s kids? He didn’t make it past the appetizers.”

Tony snorted, shooting Rhodey a playful glare. “That’s because that guy showed up in a muscle car blaring AC/DC and quoting Shakespeare.”

“I thought you liked AC/DC?” you teased.

“I do. Not when it’s a first impression.”

Morgan, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, suddenly piped up. “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked innocently, looking up at Logan.

Logan blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh…”

“Morgan,” Pepper began, her tone gentle but with that motherly undertone of “not now.”

“What? If he’s dating my sister, maybe he should stay!”

Wade, sensing an opportunity to cause more chaos, grinned beneath his mask. “Oh, I second that motion, mini-Stark! Logan here can bunk with me. I’ll show him my extensive collection of ‘80s action movies. It’ll be like a slumber party, only with more explosions.”

Clint nearly spit out his drink, trying to stifle his laughter, and even Natasha cracked a rare smile.

Logan, who had been stoic and composed throughout the entire evening, just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

You burst out laughing, and as you glanced around the table, you saw that, little by little, Logan was beginning to fit in with the Avengers’ chaotic dynamic. Sure, there were still guarded looks and unspoken tests, but your family—both blood and found—was starting to accept him in their own way.

As dessert was served and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt Logan’s hand rest on your knee under the table, a small, reassuring touch that grounded you. You leaned into him slightly, smiling to yourself. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been as bad as you’d feared.

By the time the evening began winding down, Logan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Thor about battle strategies, Wade was loudly recounting yet another exaggerated mission story to anyone who’d listen, and Morgan had fallen asleep in Pepper’s arms.

Tony, now more relaxed, leaned over to you as the others chatted around the table. “So… Logan,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, unsure of what was coming next. “Yeah?”

Tony gave a small, reluctant smile. “I still think you could’ve given me a heads-up earlier, but… he’s alright. I guess.”

You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Told you so.”

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the night wrapped up and the team slowly began to disperse, you and Logan lingered by the door. Tony walked up to Logan, offering his hand.

“Take care of her,” Tony said, his tone steady but genuine.

Logan gripped Tony’s hand firmly, meeting his gaze once more. “Always.”

With that final exchange, you left the compound with Logan by your side, Wade tagging along (of course). And as you drove away, your hand resting in Logan’s, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Your family had met him. He’d met them. And while it hadn’t been perfect, it was the first step in blending the two worlds you cared so deeply about. In the end, Logan wasn’t just a part of your life anymore.

He was a part of theirs.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #x men x reader

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towriteloveontheirarms · 4 months ago

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Guard dog (modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

synopsis: What is supposed to be a fun night at a concert devolves into an even more fun night.

warnings: smut, (public) sex, dry humping, Aemond coming in his pants, bathroom sex, p in v, afab reader

word count: 2.4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @legitalicat

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

“Give that here, let me do it.” You take the eyeliner from Aemond´s hand and swing a leg over his lap to straddle him. Deafeningly loud metal sounds through the apartment, forcing your heart to beat along with it. You straddle his lap without a second thought, turning his head until he is almost smothered between your breasts. Not that the implications are any less lost on you, but after years close touch had also become quite normal for. Never was it this bad though.

“I could have done that myself, you know?” Aemond claims. Of course he does.

“I know. It's just prettier that way.” You release your lower lip while teasing, not even realizing you had bitten it in concentration.

“Prettier? Is that so?” He asks with a wide smile spreading his rosy lips.

“It is.” You shrug lightly, but right when you shift to stand back up, Aemond grabs you by the hips. Promptly you get pulled back into his lap and while you try to get some breath back into your lungs, he already begins to drive his fingers into your sides until you are toppled over in his lap. There is less air traveling back into your lungs than there is coming out, taking away all of the strength you need to pull away from him.

“No… stop… please Aemond…” The words are pressed painfully forward from your throat.

“I’ll never stop.” Aemond only warns you.

Of course he doesn't let up. If growing up with Aegon and Daeron taught him anything is not to give up easily. He tickles you no matter how often you weakly push at his arms and try to get away. No matter how often you say you can't breathe. That is until your body grows so limp, that you are everywhere. Your body loosely wraps around Aemond and fills his nostrils with a scent that has him intoxicated immediately.

Suddenly Aemond stops what he is doing entirely. Awkwardly he lets go of you and helps you stand back up. There is a beat of silence between the two of you, before things return back to the way they were, letting the two of you get ready

“So? What do you think?” You exclaim once you are done.

Putting on your boots, you even give Aemond a small twirl to present your entire outfit, making the jewellery jingle and you giggle with it. The answer you get is Aemond laying a finger to his chin in thought as he looks you up and down. Silently he prays to the seven that you don't notice the flush spreading on his pale cheeks.

“Are you sure about that skirt?” He inquires then. “It's kinda short.”

“Yes, I am. I didn't buy it to be ignored after all.” You smooth the admittedly very short leather skirt over. He was right, your outfit left very little to imagination, but fuck what people are going to say.

“Just saying. If there will be guys ogling you I won't be a happy camper.” He defensively raises his hands.

“When are you ever a happy camper?” The question is as light-hearted as can be, but it is met with a serious look.

“I mean it. If someone so much as whistles at you, there will be problems.”

“Awww my own guard dog.” You go to playfully pinch his perfect cheeks only to get your hand swatted away by his own. “I´ll be careful… mom.”

Aemond clicks his tongue, but nevertheless the two of you leave for the concert that has your stomach flutter with butterflies at the thought of how long you had waited for it. All the way until you stand in your place.

As if by second nature, you lean your back against his chest and lean your head back to give him a small, happy smile. Aemond’s thumbs rub gentle circles into your hips and as a sign of thanks, you run your nails over his arms just barely enough to send a tingle over the skin. Everywhere around you people are wrapped up in their own little conversations, giving you a moment that feels private. Despite the mass of humans squeezed into the venue.

The supporting act is nice, but not even it can move you from Aemond's arms. You only get disturbed when his chest rumbles against your back in the small break before the band comes on.

“What are you growling at?” You inquire softly, looking at the stage, while trying to calm Aemond by once more running your nails over his body.

"Nobody." He murmurs, sighing and calming instantly at the affection. If only you knew the effect you had on him. “Are you trying to give me chills?”

“Is it working?” You smirk up at him.

Aemond doesn't need to answer verbally for you to know that something is working. The blood in his body rushes south and presses against your lower back. At the same time his hands on your waist tighten noticeably before flexing and then returning to their relaxed state.

“So, what did you actually growl at?” The way you turn your body around, however, rubs your back perfectly against Aemond's front.

“Just some guy looking at you weird.” Aemond swallows hard around the sentence in concentration.

“See, you are like my guard dog. I knew it.” You clap and laugh up at him.

This time as you lean up to playfully pat Aemond’s cheek, he lets you. He has no choice but to as the touch of your palm to his face makes your bodies rub together in just the right way.

“Don't say things like that.” He bows his head, but the breathy voice gives away how he feels about your words.

“It makes me very happy to have such a good boy though…” The way his excitement grows even harder and twitches against your back makes you bite your lip.

His pupil looks darker than usual and unfocused. “Please don´t tease like this.”

“Is my good boy gonna come in his pants if I don´t?” It´s a rhetorical question.

By now Aemond´s hips had set into a steady rhythm, snapping against your back for every bit of friction he could get.

“Gods… don´t say things like that. I´m serious, don´t you dare…”

“Why I'd never joke about something so… incredibly hot.” The fake pout and cute eyelash flutter is met by a bitten lip, tightly knitted together eyebrows and a glowy forehead.

“You´re not… You´re just saying that to get me flustered.” The breathless accusation is met with a light-hearted shrug and the band beginning to play. Even though the music is background noise in your own little bubble.

“If you keep this up… something’s going to happen.”

“Good.” You slowly trail a finger up his chest until it rests under his chin.

His eye flutters close in response. “You gotta stop. I mean it.”

“It's so much fun though.” Your thumb pulls Aemond’s lower lip from between his teeth and runs over it.

It's a simple action, yet one that has his mind reeling with the thought of how your hand would feel around other parts of his body.

“If you keep touching me like this… If you do…” Aemond stutters and lays his forehead on your shoulder as strength starts to leave him.

“Come for me then. Be my good boy and come in your pants for me.” It is a soft command whispered hotly against his ear.

“It's too public.”

“No one is looking at us.” With the way Aemond rested against you, your teeth graze the shell of his ear as you whisper into it.

It doesn't take much longer for Aemond to come undone. Leaning more against your shoulder and biting into your neck ever so slightly. The sharp teeth against the skin are almost enough to get you lost in him and miss the strange sensation of his cum staining his pants against your back.

“I can't believe you did that.” Aemond looks at you with an incredulous gaze that quickly changes to one of mischief. “I might have to get revenge now.”

Before you can read the plan from his eye though, Aemond pushes through the crowd. Once you reach the amps, your back hits the wall. That alone though isn´t enough to shut you up.

“Yeah, you might want to.” You show him a confident wink, but with Aemond´s own confidence rising so does the fluttering anticipation between your leg.

Aemond can tell you are trying to get a rise out of him with the playfulness and it´s working all too well. He is already rock hard again.

“I'd planned to have you on your bed the first time, but that’s too far away. I want you. Hands braced against the wall and open your legs.”

You do as he commands, glad for the privacy given by the amps.

“I want you too. Need to feel you.” You grunt as Aemond pulls your head back by the hair.

The other hand sneaks below the short skirt to teasingly wander along the already wet slit or rather the damp fabric covering it once.

“Fuck…” You can't hold back the swear as your knees buckle under his touch.

“You want to feel me there?” He breathes against your ear.

“Yeah.” You nod eagerly.

Aemond leads you away from your hiding spot and into the bathroom. The second the sound of the lock sounds through the room, you are able to breathe a little better from the stuffy atmosphere. In the same second you are also caged in between the arms of Aemond Targaryen and a cold, metal door. The air that just entered your lungs, leaves just as fast from the force of it. Aemond's hands trail his fingers over the tears in your tights, teasing the hem of your skirt multiple times, before finally pulling it up. Your own hands come down to his belt loops to pull him closer to your body. You lean up on your tiptoes to steal a kiss, however Aemond leans away for a moment first. Revelling in your sweet, confused whine at his actions with a smirk. Only when he has savoured it enough, Aemond leans down to seal your soft lips with his own. The way in which your bodies move against each other is purely animalistic to the point the air is so thick with your ravenous hunger, that you are sure it would be easier to breathe in the main concert hall.

Growing more heated by the second, your hands wander so desperately over each other's bodies to commit every bit to mind. After a while one of Aemond's hands pushes you back against the door by the neck. Your fast breath intermingles and as your eyes flutter open, they almost roll back at the way his kiss swollen lips shimmer in the flickering light.

Hastily your hands fly up to open the zipper on your leather vest at the same time as Aemond pushes down his pants and boxers just enough to free his cock. While you are still stunned by the sight of his excitement, his hands land on your hips again, ripping your tights at the apex of your thighs. Then he lifts you off the ground and pushes you back holding you up with one hand at the thigh.

Your legs wrap around his middle tightly, letting your head fall back when he pushes your bra out of the way to toy with one of your breasts, pulling and pinching the sensitive peaks between nimble fingers. Through the pleasure you barely feel him align himself with your wet entrance. And just as Aemond buries his hard length inside of you fully, his lips wrap around your other breast to suck at the sensitive bud. Pulling strangled moans from both of your lungs in the process.

“Oh gods… Fuck, you´re tight.” He sucks in a sharp breath as the words fall out.

At his words and sudden entry, your inner walls flutter around his length even further. Having a hard time adjusting to his deep strokes when he starts to thrust into you. The movement of your meeting hips is nothing short of bold, frenzied, determined to bring the other to climax as soon and if given the chance, as often as possible. “Your touch feels heavenly.” You praise the warm hands holding up and caressing your body.

“You have no idea what you do to me by just clinging to me like this.” Aemond praises you right back. Shivers running down your spine from it. The onslaught of kisses and nibbles to your neck that follows as he keeps driving his cock into you. The rising body heat and heavy breathing fogging up the mirror on the wall. On one of the strokes however, your bodies seem to shift ever so slightly, giving Aemond a new angle inside of your dripping walls, black dots beginning to dance in your vision as your nails dig into Aemond's shoulders.

“Do that again-” You gasp. “Shit, just like that, right there.”

“Fuck I love how reactive you are, princess.” His carnal voice pierces through the cotton that filled your brain in the pleasure addled state from his relentless pounding.

Your stomach tightens along with your walls around him, the knot inside it almost reaching its breaking point when Aemond carries you over to the sink, placing you just on its edge to more comfortably reach for your clit. Rubbing tight winded circles with dexterous movements.

“I'm so close… Wanna come with you, please” You huff in-between moans and cries of pleasure.

“I´m right behind you, just hold on a bit longer.” He swallows around the words, as overtaken by the incursion as you are.

You nod eagerly and try to take a deep, trembling breath to hopefully hold off your climax just a bit longer, a low hum escaping your throat as you let it out.

But in the end, there is nothing to be helped. You reach the height of pleasure and as the knot in your stomach snaps so does the climax wash over you. One last whine escapes your lips that easily could have been mistaken for a sob and as your shaking body calms and your eyes relax from rolling into the back of your head, Aemond follows you over the edge, groaning huskily from deep down in his chest. The smooth skin transports the rumble perfectly to the pads of your fingertips. His hand remains on your lower back to stabilize while the two of you recover, yet still your body sways back and forth ever so slightly. By the time you leave the bathroom, a queue had formed in front of it, but the dirty looks are easy to ignore when both of you have only one thing in mind. To get home as fast as possible.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #modern aemond #hotd modern au #modern house of the dragon au #modern house of the dragon #modern hotd

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5ummit · 2 years ago

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So there's this post with a troubling number of notes going around insisting that "dead dove" is not a genre, it doesn't inherently have anything to do with darkfic, and that the tag could be applied to fics that are "100% fluffy where everyone's having a good time" if they happen to contain some abnormal (though entirely non-problematic) content like an unusual kink. The claim is that "dead dove: do not eat" is simply a "courtesy tag" that means "this is a very specific niche, mind the tags." And that's just... wrong.

I wrote up a whole rebuttal to this post since I can't stand misinformation and frankly OP was being kinda rude and judgey on top of their wrongness. But right after I posted my reply, OP turned off reblogs because, and I quote, “some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post and it is no longer educational” (the “fuckwad” being me and the “dumb shit” being proof that they were wrong). A couple people have asked me to make a rebloggable version of my response, which I've decided to do because this isn't the first time I've heard similar claims and I want to help set the record straight. However, I'm not linking the original post on the off chance this gains traction because OP did the right thing by turning off reblogs, preventing it from circulating further, and I don't want them to get hate for being unfortunately misinformed.

For those who don't know the history, "dead dove: do not eat" was originally proposed as a catchall "hydra trash party" alternative label for any fandom to warn that the content of a fic may be considered problematic or potentially upsetting and to read the tags carefully so you know what you're getting into and won't complain later. Specifically, DD:DNE was intended to convey that the Bad Things in the fic would likely be reveled in and not explicitly condemned by the narrative, which some people tend to get up in arms about, hence the need for the extra warning in addition to the tags. Don't believe me? Here's the original proposal (note DD:DNE can be found on a handful of fics dated before 2015 but this is when it really took off and became a Thing).

There are currently around 50,000 fics tagged as "dead dove: do not eat" on AO3 and close to 50% of those also include the rape/noncon warning (which of course is not the only type of "dead dove" but is one of the most popular and most consistently tagged). The normal percentage of noncon fics in any given fandom? Around 1-3%. That's a HUGE disparity. So don't tell me that dead dove is just a general "courtesy tag" and doesn't or shouldn't have dark connotations. Even the context of the original joke on Arrested Development has a dark undertone. Micheal Bluth casually finds an animal carcass in a bag in his refrigerator with the label "do not eat", as if eating it would be any sane person's first thought. The whole situation is kinda fucked up. And this fucked up vibe very much carries over into fandom usage too, as was intended.

The claim that dead dove has nothing to do with the content's genre and could just as easily be used to describe a 100% fluffy fic in which everyone's having a good time is straight up Wrong, or at the very least, severely warping the original meaning. Also, when someone these days says that they like/dislike "dead dove" most people in fandom automatically understand what that means because of the consistency of its usage over the years and the way language evolves. Whether you like it or not, "dead dove" IS a genre now and the term does carry a specific connotation. I do agree that DD:DNE should definitely still be used in conjunction with other tags, when applicable, to be explicit about the exact type of fucked up content you may find, but to say that the term is meaningless on its own is patently false and I'm tired of people who don't know what they're talking about pushing this narrative and causing even more confusion.

You want a generic term that also means "mind the tags" and doesn't have any inherently dark connotations? Just use good ol' "what it says on the tin" instead of trying to force dead dove to be something it's not.

#fyi I've tweaked my response slightly to remove specific references to OP and make it read better on its own #I hope I don't regret making this post and inviting The Discourse #but dead dove is a topic that is very near and dear to me #I feel like someone has got to say something and put a stop to all of the misinformation around it these days #fandom #long post #my words #psa #wendy's help desk

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i-hate-peas · 2 months ago

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The Old Guard Fic Recs

So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.

Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.

** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **

If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)

Within Canon

Old Olives by aeli_kindara

Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears

Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket

Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.

Honourable mention: Station to Station

Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)

Andy! Nile!

Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)

Set after the film, literally just read it.

compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R

A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'

let's give them something to talk about by lacecat

When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict

Unearthed by merle_p

I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!

Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril

Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!

The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)

I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.

Canon Divergent

Retrograde by Pinkninja

I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.

If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)

Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.

though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)

Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)

Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.

AUs

Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)

Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.

pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)

I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.

The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire

One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)

One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.

The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)

I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.

a good (eighth) impression by deaniker

I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.

You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)

At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.

it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)

A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.

Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')

fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer

Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.

if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)

Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.

Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)

#the old guard #fic rec #champagne?#now I need to go back and reread all of these

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angelltheninth · 2 months ago

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In the Eyes of God

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, corruption, religious undertones, clit stimulation, body betrayal, degradation. demon!Sukuna

Word count: 0.7k

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Another Sukuna fanfic for you!

It started out as a normal day for you, taking care of your duties, offering respects to your god, offering advice to the people who visited the temple, praying with them, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

So why were you being punished? Was it a punishment even? If it was the why were you offering yourself to this... this demon before you. He already introduced himself as the Demon Lord Sukuna, and at first you figured he must be either joking or delusional. But if so he would not be able to charm you so, to make you forget your vows to smile so triumphantly down at you while holding you down with two sets of hands, one pinning your hands above your head, one hand with sharp, claw-like nails digging into the softness of your hip and the other furiously working on your clit.

"I must say I'm sorely disappointed in you, priestess, all it took was a few touches, a few honeyed words, a little taste of a real dick and you're offering your pussy to me in the temple of your god." His grin was sickeningly triumphant, his muscles bulging as he fucked your wet hole, "And here I figured you'd put out more of a fight. Barely any screaming too. At least you can scream for me now. Come on bitch, scream, make your god hear you while you're getting dicked down by me."

You shook your head, refusing to give him the pleasure of heading his commands, "I don't take orders from demons." Even you doubted your statement in your current condition.

"But you'll take my dick?" He pressed his thumb against your clit, his long tongue licking over his fangs when your pussy began spasming around his length, "You needed one real bad I bet. Probably only had your fingers for so long. Poor thing. Be grateful that one such as I is fucking you, because this god you seem to love so much sure ain't gonna. But you know what..." He leaned down next to your ear, "I bet he's watching right now, so be a good slut and lets give him a proper show."

The thought of being watched excited you more then you thought it would, more then it should and the dam inside you broke, your back arching off the hard wooden floor and into Sukuna's firm chest. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, never once slowing down, his hands letting go of your wrists to briefly wonder to your breasts, pinching and rolling your hard nipples between his fingers, the pain only making you tighten more.

"That's it slut, take my cock, come all over it. I think you'd be much happier worshiping my cock then that god of yours. In fact, why don't you tell him all about it yourself." Sukuna licked your neck possessively before he pulled out, much to your begrudging dismay, and flipped you over. His hands grabbed your hips firmly, pulling you upwards so his cock could slide easily back in, a needy, grateful moan passing through your lips. "Look up." His hand took firm hold of your chin and held your face up so you could look at the statue of your god, "Say how much you love getting fucked by a demon king's cock. Say how much of a needy, horny, slutty priestess you are. Or better yet let your pussy do all the talking."

"I-I won't-!" You whimpered, eyes welling up with tears as your pussy clenched around Sukuna's cock. It felt too good to deny, too good for you to tell him to stop. So you didn't, but you wrestled your chin away from his grip and looked down at your clenched fists instead, your hips rocking back into his more and more until you weren't sure if he was still thrusting or standing still, regardless his cock was still being rammed inside of you, clouding your mind with pleasure once more.

"That's my girl, it's so much easier when admit it to yourself." Sukuna kept pounding away at your pussy until it's walls became flooded with his warm cum, filling you to your limit and dripping on the flow below your shaking legs, "What do you say priestess, feeling like worshiping me instead?" He didn't have to wait for your reply, your cunt tightening back up around his still hard cock was all the confirmation he needed to get another round going.

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rockwgooglyeyes · 3 months ago

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Taking into consideration Till's history with sexual assault (i will be tw and cw tagging for this), it puts the Ivantill kiss in round 6 in so much more perspective for me. Not only that, but it gives a lot of context and reasoning to the way that Till interacts with other people (as well as his rapid, violent mood swings) into perspective.

I just to preface with this- I have never been the victim of sexual assault or sexual harassment, so my discussion on this purely comes from what I know at a psychological angle, in addition to what I know based on this video from pop culture detective on Youtube and his videos on the male interaction with abuse and generally seedy behavior in media. It's really good, I enjoy his content a lot. Anyways analysis below the cut. Content and trigger warning for discussion of sexual assault, sexual abuse, psychological abuse, and pretty much everything else relevant in this fandom (slavery, child abuse, etc)

Out of all of the characters in Alien Stage, Till is the most openly dehumanized. Sua is treated like a doll, Ivan is treated like a trophy horse to parade around, Luka is something of a combination of both- but Till is the lab rat. He's the losing dog that Urak is betting on. They're all dehumanized to a degree but Till is dehumanized so much so that his defining feature is his rebellion. Even amongst the fandom, he's made into Ivan's side piece or the idiot who's hopelessly in love with Mizi and yeah, I do think Till is a dumbass but I say that out of the deepest affection possible, I love this little freak and I want the best for him. I truly do.

He's so smart and talented and yet, he hates himself. He's passionate about music, he uses it to express himself in ways that he can't otherwise, and he's so good at music, too. He's not good with people and he has a temper and he's easily flustered, yes, but he's so complicated. He was hopeful and innocent to the ways of the world but when he was bought by Urak, he was shown how utterly and hopelessly cruel the world could be. Comparatively, even Ivan and Sua got lucky, with their absent and emotionally abusive owners- Till was put through hell, experimented on, forced into a cage and treated like a feral animal that needed to be shown who was boss- even when he was willing to go along with anything at the start. He wanted to be loved. He wanted to be cherished. Children always want so desperately to please their authority figures, I can't imagine that he would have resisted in the beginning, hoping that if he went along with whatever Urak told him to, that he would be rewarded and treated with tenderness and care.

He never was. He was beaten and broken and thrown through the wringer time and time again. They made him miserable because that's what Urak wanted- that's what makes good art, after all. A tortured artist who cuts off their own ear but paints the most beautiful night skies.

Even in Round 2, we see this dehumanization. Till has a tether, keeping him to the stage, because he's "dangerous." He's marketed as this rebel, who needs to be tied down, who needs to gagged and muzzled, we can't let him speak because if he opens his mouth, he'll bite. He's pushed down to the ground, subdued, IN HIS MARKETING. This is how he's presented FROM THE BEGINNING. He is forced into this role of the mad dog who screams and claws and bites because this is the mold he was given, he pushed himself into it because that was all he could do. He's giving Urak what Urak wants and even that isn't enough. Because he might be broken, he might have given in, but he's still a stubborn bastard.

Before Round 6 (but after Round 5), Till refuses to sing Mizi's song in the bar. He gets angry with a member of the audience for implying that Mizi is dead, maybe even saying shitty something about her, and he goes at them with a bottle. As @a-star-that-burns-brightly said, he's the only human we've ever seen to get violent with an alien within the bounds of Alien Stage, which makes Till all the more impressive- which means that they have to bring him down all the more forcefully.

I will admit- I didn't understand the scene to be SA until it was pointed out to me (not that I thought it wasn't, it just went over my head) but it adds so much to Till's character to analyse it through that lens.

They rape Till, punishing him for refusing to sing and punishing him to attacking an audience member. Terry Crews, who some may know from Brooklyn-Nine-Nine or other media, is a survivor of sexual assault, and he talked about it before the United States Senate Judiciary committee. He was assaulted by his manager, who was a man. And you may be wondering why I bring this up, and it's simply because I want to remind people that sexual assault is not about sexuality. It can be connected but correlation is not causation. Sexual assault is about exerting power over an individual to make them feel weak, lesser, and show them who is in control of the situation. It's not dissimilar to bullying (but far, far worse). After all, why would corrective rape be a phenomenon if it wasn't about exerting power over the victim and showing them that they don't have autonomy or agency? Because if they had autonomy or agency, they would be able to consent or conversely, the ability to say no.

Of course they don't have autonomy/agency, though, right? Because they're pets. They're possessions. It's akin to how we treat dogs and cats, we breed them and we don't let them say no, because they don't have an understanding of consent like we do, why would they need to say yes or no? They can just fight someone off if they don't want it, right?

Right?

Something that @k9punkout (Numso) said stood out to me, though, is that this might not even be the first time that this has happened to Till. This breaks my heart. Like, legitimately, it made me nearly cry when I read it, because the idea of sexual abuse being used as a form of regular and routine punishment against someone is horrible- but at the same time, that already happens. In prisons, in war zones, in households, sexual abuse is used as a regular punishment against people and that's horrible. The way that Till's experience specifically reflects that of a child in a toxic and abusive household is immensely interesting because of how people forget about that, how people don't seem to really care. He's a sopping wet kitten, yeah, he's a silly little guy, but he's been abused for his whole fucking life. He has a superiority complex that's teetering on an incredibly thin knife's edge and sometimes it wobbles into self-hatred and an absolute absence of self worth.

It's no wonder that Till clings so fiercely to the idea that Mizi is innocent and pure and hopeful, like he once was, because if she isn't- then does that mean he was stupid to ever hope at all? Was he stupid for expecting love and affection, from the people who were supposed to take care of him? Does that mean he's suffered for no reason, save Urak's amusement? Does that mean he's miserable just because, just because Urak demands that someone be miserable in order for them to be great? Does that mean he's been beaten, broken, made into this wretched, ugly thing simply because he's around? It's not so much that his suffering needs to have a purpose, it's more that if it's pointless and based on whim, then that says something about Till himself. That says that Urak saw something in him, something sturdy enough to be broken again and again and get back up. It says that he deserves this. (He doesn't, no one deserves that and deserving things is horseshit, but I can't imagine Till to be thinking anything else.)

Back, finally, to the whole reason I started writing this fucking thing: the Ivantill kiss in Round 6. I've seen some people call it SA, and while I can see why (and of course, I respect their opinions), I disagree.

Ivan shouldn't have continued to kiss Till after Till pushed him, yes, but at the same time, through the narrative of their kiss- it wasn't really a kiss at all. Not in the sense that it was an expression of sexual intent. And maybe this is because I'm on the acearo spectrum but. I don't believe Ivan wanted to kiss Till, it wasn't a romantic kiss, it was one last attempt to get Till to wake up, before it was too late.

Through the lens of knowing that Till is a survivor of sexual assault, the way that Ivan kissed him and his reaction to Ivan kissing him is all the more impactful because Till pushed Ivan away, yes, but he didn't seem horrified, or hollowed out like he is post assault in the bar scene. It shows his trust in Ivan, and maybe even the fact that he knows that Ivan isn't doing this to hurt him, Ivan is kissing him in a final effort to say "I love you. You're loved. I'm sorry."

Blue (@bluemoonscape) talked through this with me a bit earlier and he said something that stuck out to me as well "The kiss, if anything, shows how much control the aliens assert over them to put them in a position where this would be two friends’ last chance to communicate with one another, hence how desperate it is on Ivan’s part. (...) Ivan wasn’t trying to assert power over Till in any way; that just isn’t in his nature. Over the years, he basically lets Till dictate every aspect of their relationship, hell, he even gives power to Till over Ivan’s own freedom (power that Till didn’t want but nonetheless got)" and he really summed it up beautifully in my opinion. The ivantill kiss WASN'T romantic because it wasn't meant to be- Ivan was just saying that he loved Till period. It was a fucked up way to do it. I wish he hadn't.

But he was just trying to say goodbye.

(@atrophiedemotion because i mentioned this to you! <3)

#cw sa #cw sa mention #tw sex assault #tw sa #tw sa mention #alnst #alien stage #alnst till #alnst ivan #(because he's mentioned)#ivantill #rocktalks #me: i cannot be killed! *cue numso and a star that burns brightly killing me with a big hammer*#blue and cast thank you so much for being my beloved little friends who i scrambled around talking about this to. love you guys

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thunderingwisdom · 4 months ago

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morning daze

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Rating: Mature/Minors DNI

Pairing: Jing Yuan/Reader

Word Count: 1340

Summary: You're used to your partner coming home late, and you're used to him lavishing his attention on you. It never gets old, and your love for him only grows.

a/n: mom I LOVE him!!! also I tried to keep this one as gender-neutral as possible, I think it worked out?

honestly i just have jing yuan brainrot-wrote this in a rush might edit later?

tags: mature themes, implications of nsfw themes, cuddling, toothache

Consciousness beckons, curling around you, pulling you closer. The morning light tries to reach you through the thin barrier of the linen curtains as you cling to the last vestiges of sleep.

An arm tightens around your waist.

Perking up, but fighting to keep your eyes shut, you try not to react to the warm breath ghosting over your neck, to the smile pressing into your skin.

“You got in late,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep. It was nothing out of the ordinary–he would either come to bed really late or not at all. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

His mouth doesn’t leave your shoulder; a long inhale is his first response, followed by a sound of laughter low in his throat.

“With such a beauty in my arms, sleep itself insisted on postponing our meeting,” he tells you, hand ghosting across your ribs. There’s not a hint of sleep in his voice. He laughs when you squirm and moves to press it low on your belly, moving the sheets aside.

“Flatterer,” you accuse sleepily. “Even an accomplished general needs sleep.”

“Maybe this general needs the warmth of his beloved more.” An edge of possessiveness underlines his touch, his hand continuing its journey over your hips, leaving a trail of warmth that you swear you feel down to your bones.

“…you have to go back soon, don’t you,” you ask resignedly, fingers reaching for his bicep, dancing over his skin. Old scars littered throughout, a story you quite enjoy following with your mouth. “Jing Yuan..”

“In a few hours,” he reassures you, nipping at the delicate skin below your neck, chuckling at the way your shoulders jerk. “Preparations for the Wardance are about to commence.”

“Perhaps these few hours would be better spent asleep, regaining your strength?” You grumble, knowing he would be fine but unable to help it.

“My dear, you severely underestimate the influence your affections have on this haggard soldier.”

“And what kind of affections are on your mind?” You ask, amused, as his hand creeps lower; you turn your head to brush soft kisses where you can reach, readily meeting his mouth when he leans in.

A rush of warmth low in your belly, familiar–it never fails to find you when you feel him smiling into your kisses. Which is almost always. A soft curve to his mouth, gentle eyes, leaning into your touch–a side only you get to see.

“Whatever my beloved sees fit to bestow upon me,” he murmurs, the lightest of sighs leaving him at the butterfly kisses you leave on the corners of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw. “Although, if you keep this up, my simple mind will surely be lured down wicked paths…”

“Simple,” you muse out loud, turning over in his arms to see him properly. Jing Yuan meets your eyes steadily, giving you a moment to search his face. Tired, but in good spirits. “If our general’s mind is rendered such, what would become of the rest of us?”

“There are people more than capable of taking over. And we get to live out the rest of our lives in this bed, of course,” he responds easily, both his hands teaming up to stroke up and down your back. “I’m sure we could scrounge up a meal or two.” His palms slide lower, curving over your rear to press you closer.

You laugh into his skin, sliding your arms around his neck. Questing fingers sneak into his wild hair, gentle as they rake across his scalp. He groans into the crown of your head, melting in your arms. “I don’t think I could live with starving you.”

“A life spent between your legs is a life without regrets,” he says promptly, if a little dazedly. “Truly, that would be the one thing I couldn’t regret even upon pain of torture.”

You roll your eyes, fondly yet exasperatedly, hands gliding down to knead gently at the nape of his neck. A burst of affection has you kissing him deeply, a foot sneaking up his calf.

He’s not one to turn his brain off easily, but you know after all this time spent together that kissing him long enough will get you close. Whether it’s fierce, fueled by a need to be as close as possible—or slow, gentle, pulling you in with the desire to just feel. You’ve worked hard to give him this, a place to feel safe and shed his armour.

“One of these days, I’m going to keep you here for days, coaxing you to sleep and filling your belly until you grow round,” you inform him, the hint of a playful growl in your tone. And yet, it’s your heartbeat that quickens at the darkness that shades his eyes.

“Filling my belly? Not with food, I hope?” He purrs, teeth sinking into the soft flesh below your jaw. His hands dig into your skin at the sounds that escape your mouth.

You long to pamper him more, kneading away the knots in his muscles and chasing away the shadows in his eyes. When you get the occasional evening together, you’re eager to spend it lounging in the tub, exchanging lazy kisses and tales of your lives before each other. Or you cook together, finding new dishes to adore or experiments to laugh at.

The first time he let you sit him down and work a brush through his hair, he fell asleep in the chair. It relaxes him in a way nothing else can, even if it often leaves you giggling at the way he paws at you, pressing his face into your stomach. The claws of self-consciousness had long faded, with each worshipful touch of his hands, and his greedy mouth.

That was another thing that came as a surprise.

“You leave me unable to form a coherent thought, and yet I can nearly hear you thinking,” Jing Yuan comments, nuzzling your hair. “Rather cruel of you, darling.”

Once he let himself settle into your life tougher, you began to see glimpses of it. He’s greedy–for your gaze, for your thoughts, for your hands on him, and the taste of your skin.

“Would it help to know you’re the one in my thoughts?”

“But of course. If it were someone else, I’m afraid I would have to put in extra work to eradicate the very thought,” Jing Yuan declares. A shudder climbs up your spine at the thought of him doing more work, although you being the focus of it might not be a bad deal. “Hmm, actually…”

“Who could ever find the space to slip into my mind with this greedy general occupying every inch?”

It makes him laugh, eyes curving at you. “Now who’s the flatterer? And if you spoil a starved beast too much, it’s only natural for it to become greedy.” You feel his breath against your mouth—hovering, teasing. The intent in his gaze is clear as his prowling comes to a close.

“You’re right. I should’ve trained you better,” you lament. “Is it too late now?”

“I’m afraid it is,” he tells you somberly, a twinkle in his eyes. ��The hunger is ever-present, and it feels endless.”

“I have food in the fridge,” you suggest innocently, fighting a grin as you tap his chin. Jing Yuan snaps at it playfully, and your laughter leaves you in sputters.

“Good. You’ll need it,” he nods decisively, before turning you over onto your back, climbing over you with more grace than is truly fair. You want to sigh at the way your legs fall open, accepting his place between them. “I hope you won’t mind if I eat first?”

He leans in for a kiss, then another. You want to tell him to get more rest, and he waits, watching you with a smile. But you love giving him what he wants and know you’ll get to hold him after, when he’s sated and dozing against your chest.

You’ll try your luck then, to keep him close a little longer.

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr fanfic #jing yuan honkai star rail #he snores btw #its cute at first tho

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moonlightspencie · 2 years ago

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Sleepover

Description: Hotch wants the reader, but doesn’t know how to tell her. Maybe a night in will be of some assistance.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Warnings: none (but this is full of domesticity, jealous!hotch, mutual pining, and so much fluffy fluff)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: originally posted on tumblr. then it resided on ao3. now it’s back on tumblr. (fun fact: it’s my favorite hotch fic i’ve ever written and my second favorite story i’ve done of all the fandoms i’ve written for. hope ya like it still)

If there was one thing Agent Aaron Hotchner was not, it was unprofessional. But, oh. If there was ever a time he wanted badly to be unprofessional, it was this moment right now. Y/N stood next to him, leaning in close to whisper in his ear as they stood in the kitchenette, looking out into the bullpen.

“You look exhausted. You need to go get sleep.”

He glanced down at her. His face was so close he could almost feel her breath on him. It was everything in him to not lean in and—

“Hotch, seriously. You can’t even focus for more than a minute at a time,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine. It was just— a long case,” he finally managed.

She turned away, arms crossing. “You need rest. You beat yourself up more than anyone during this one.”

“I have a little boy at home to take care of before I can even think about sleep.”

She sighed, turning fully to face him. “Hotch.”

“Y/N,” he retorted.

“Fine. You know what?”

He turned towards her, arms crossing to mirror her.

“What?”

“I’m coming home with you.”

His heart stopped and face dropped. It took him a moment to process what she’d just said.

“Um,” he took a second to clear his throat, “I—Excuse me?”

She laughed, music to his ears. “That sounded so inappropriate. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m going to come watch Jack for you. You’re gonna get rest.”

“I’m your boss.” Hotch watched her face for a moment. “You don’t need to watch my son while I sleep.”

“You’re also my friend, and I’m offering my time, you’re not taking it. Besides, I’ve watched Jack a hundred times before.”

He only sighed, looking back over the bullpen, now nearly empty.

She turned again, leaning over. “You’re not gonna win this one.”

“Fine, but you need to get sleep at some point, too.” He looked back to her. “As soon as Jack is asleep, I want you to get rest yourself.”

“Will do, boss.” She smirked.

“Okay, go get your things, we’ll leave in a few minutes,” he said, watching her for a moment as she walked off.

She went to her desk, beginning to pack up what she needed, but not before Derek had to come over to stir things up.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, leaning against her desk on one arm. “Leaving so soon?”

“Soon?” She laughed. “We just had a hell of a case, I’m getting out of here.”

“Oh, man.”

He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest and sat against the desk.

Hotch walked towards his office, trying not to watch the pair talking. He tried to not pay attention how she smiled at him as he spoke, and how he always seemed to have the right words to say to get her to laugh.

“Why, what’s up?” She slung her bag over her shoulder.

“I was thinking about going to the bar. Wanted to know if a pretty lady wanted to tag along.”

Hotch threw his things in his bag quickly, trying to not think about Y/N talking to someone much younger… Childless… Not a widow. Someone he knew she’d be with more easily.

“Oh, so you only wanted me around for my looks, huh?”

He laughed, throwing his head back a little. “You’re worth a lot more than just that, sweetheart.”

“Aww, such a sweet boy,” she said, griping his shoulder. “I got some other plans for the night, though.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?” He straightened up with a smirk.

“Ready?” Hotch asked, walking up behind her at the desk.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she responded, turning towards him.

Morgan’s face was stuck in a state of shock.

“Whoa, now hold on—”

“I’m going to watch Jack,” she said, cutting him off with a chuckle. “Don’t get too riled up, now.”

He smiled, almost laughing. “Alright. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Morgan,” Hotch said with a curt wave. Y/N followed his lead, and then they were on their way out.

“So,” Hotch started as they stepped out of the elevator and walked outside. “You and Morgan?”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in shock. “What?”

They began walking to his car.

“Are you two… Because there are some forms you’d really need to sign if—”

“Hotch,” she stopped him, standing by the passenger side door as he waited by the drivers. “That is so not happening.”

“Okay, I just…” he trailed off with a shrug, opening the door as she did and getting in.

“He’s a flirt. There’s nothing going on between us.” She settled into the seat, buckling up. “Besides, I’m too busy trying to take care of you.”

She laughed and he couldn’t help himself but to join in. He pulled off, and started towards home.

“Thank you, by the way, for doing this,” he said, not daring to look at her with how nervous he suddenly felt about bringing her to his home.

“I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Jack is going to love this.” He chuckled, turning down his street. “He really looks up to you, you know? Thinks you’re hilarious.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. I am pretty funny.” She smiled. “I am, admittedly, a little sad I only get to hang out with him for a few hours, though.”

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling into the lot of the apartment complex.

“Yeah. He’s a great kid.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it for how childish it felt, he got butterflies this time when he turned to look at her. Before he could think about it too much, he turned the key and opened the door. She followed suit, walking behind him until they reached his door. He opened it for her, and she looked around.

“His aunt should be dropping him off here in a few minutes,” he said, closing and locking the door behind him. “If you’re hungry or need a drink, you’re free to get anything from the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” She smirked, watching him. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

“I will.”

He chuckled, feeling like a little kid with the way she spoke to him. Then he paused, considering something for a moment.

Apparently the moment was longer than he realized.

“You got something on your mind?” she asked.

“Would you like to stay here for the night? I have a guest room, and this way you won’t need to catch a ride home. I could just take you to work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing down at her bag. “I don’t have anything to wear. I mean, I have my go bag at my desk that I could always use for an emergency, but for the night—”

“If you need something, I’m sure there’s something of mine you could…” He paused, realizing what he was saying. But before he could backtrack, she had to go and flash him a smile again.

“If that’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.”

“I’m sorry if that sounded inappropriate, I—”

“Did you not hear me agree?” She laughed. “You worry too much, boss. Now go get dressed.”

He nodded, turning for his room. She walked over the couch in the living room, sitting down and leaning her head back. It wasn’t long before she heard a bedroom door open, and there stood the great Aaron Hotchner in an old t-shirt and baggy pajama pants.

“That’s a good look on you,” she said, looking up at him from where he sat.

He felt a blush creep onto his skin, and tried really hard not to think about it. He walked a little closer as she stood up, handing her a nearly folded pile of clothes.

“I brought you these. The shirt is extra baggy and comfortable, and hopefully the pants will fit well enough. They’re adjustable.”

“Thank you so much, this’ll be great.” She smiled up at him. “Room is down the hall? I’d like to get dressed and set my bag in there before Jack gets here.”

“Yes, right across from his room.”

“Okay, sounds great. Now, you go to bed. I’ll be here.”

He gave her a slight smile. “Right. Thank you, again.”

“You know it’s no problem. Now, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said, walking off.

She grabbed her bag and the clothes, walking off towards the guest room. She set her bag down near the door, closing it to dress. She stripped out of her work clothes, slipping on his t-shirt first. She took in a deep breath and smiled: It smelled like him. She finished pulling on the pajama pants and made them comfortable as needed.

She grabbed a makeup wipe out of her bag and wiped her face, calling it good for an unexpected night out. Then, she heard a knock at the door. She walked out, looking through the peephole to see Hotchner’s sister-in-law Jessica standing outside with Jack. Y/N opened the door.

“Hey!”

“Y/N!” Jack squealed, throwing his arms around her. “What are you doing here?”

“Dad needed to get some rest, sweetheart. So, we get to hang out for the night,” she said, looking down at him with a hand rested on his back. “Thank you for bringing him.”

“Anything for my little man. It’s good to see you again,” she said with a smile, accepting a quick hug from Jack before he bolted off.

“You too, Jess. Have a great night.”

She waved a goodbye and was out the door. Y/N locked everything back up, and popped her head into Jack’s room.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi!” he said, turning around from where he stood at his dresser. “I’m gonna get dressed for bed. Then can we watch a movie? I already ate at aunt Jess’s house.”

“Yeah, of course, little man.” She nodded. “Do you want to go in the living room or…”

Jack paused, giggling. “Why are you wearing dad’s clothes?”

“I’m staying the night, bud. I needed pajamas.”

“You are?” he asked, eyes wide. “Can we go watch the movie in your room?”

“Yeah! Why don’t you finish getting dressed and brush your teeth, and then you can come in, okay?”

“Okay!” he exclaimed, quickly grabbing his clothes.

She turned, walking across to hall and into the guest room. She pulled the covers back, crawling underneath and switching on the T.V., finding her way to Jack’s Netflix profile, smiling at some of the shows he’d been watching. She picked an old movie she loved as a kid. It wasn’t long before she heard a door open, and little footsteps whipping around the other side of the bed. He crawled up under her arm, pulling blankets up to cover him.

Jack was watching intently, the movie only half over, when the creaking of another door piqued their interest. Hotch’s head popped into view a second later.

“What are you doing up?” Y/N asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He gave a shy smile, then turned to Jack. “How are you doing buddy?”

“Y/N said she’s staying over!”

“Yeah, she is.” He smiled, stepping inside the room. “How’s the movie?”

“I like it a lot. Come watch!” Jack said, patting the bed next to him.

“Buddy, I’m not sure that’s—”

“Please, dad?” he pleaded.

Hotch looked to Y/N, almost asking permission without saying a word. She nodded. He shuffled a little, hesitantly walking around the bed to Jack’s other side. He lowered himself on the bed, pulling the covers over his legs. Jack slipped out from under Y/N’s arm in favor of leaning on his dad’s shoulder. It wasn’t long before Jack was snoring, and as Y/N looked up to see if Hotch thought it was just as cute as she did, she noticed he’d fallen asleep, too. They looked so sweet sleeping there together that she couldn’t help but pull out her phone and take a picture. She set the phone on the nightstand, making herself more comfortable as she focused her attention back on the movie.

Early morning light filled the room when Hotch woke up. He glanced down to see his son cuddle up against him and smiled. He was still fast asleep. Then, he looked up. Y/N laid asleep, her body curled up on her side, facing him and effectively caging Jack between them. Her breath came soft and even, and he admired how she looked in his clothes as he saw her in the light for the first time. She was so close, and he longed to get closer, but couldn’t think on it long before her eyes started fluttering open.

“Hey,” she greeted, voice soft with sleep, and a tired smile gracing her face.

“Hey,” he said back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.”

She chuckled, rubbing her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I think he was happy to have you here.”

Hotch smiled, looking down at his son. He was out like a light.

Y/N leaned over, gently kissing Jack’s forehead before slowly and quietly getting out of bed. Hotch watched her, heart aching at how much he wished all of his mornings could start this same way. He shifted out of the grip of his son as she stretched out at the end of the bed, leaving the room with her.

“It’s still early,” he said, walking to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

She trailed behind, taking a seat at the counter.

“That depends. Are you gonna make me breakfast if I am?”

“If you’d like.”

He smirked at her, and she smiled back.

“Tell you what, you work on the food, I’ll get coffee started,” she said, getting up and walking towards the counter.

He wordlessly agreed, pulling out some boxed pancake mix and stovetop sausage links. She removed the old coffee filter from the machine and set in a new one, filling it up with grounds. Hotch mixed up the batter quickly, heating up a pan.

The coffee pot filled, and pancakes were formed. Y/N poured two cups, preparing one to her liking and one to Hotch’s. Then, footsteps came shuffling into the room.

“Morning, sunshine,” Y/N said to Jack, smiling at him. “You want some juice?”

He nodded sleepily and climbed up onto a chair at the counter. She poured him some orange juice and set the cup down in front of him. He took a sip, watching his dad finishing up breakfast.

“Is that pancakes?” Jack asked, trying to peek around to see the pans.

“It sure is,” Hotch replied, throwing some pancakes on a plate and pouring out a few more.

Y/N set down the two coffee mugs on the counter, and took her place next to Hotch to move the sausage links around in the other pan.

“Almost done?” she asked him without looking up.

He moved the rest of the pancakes to the plate.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, glancing over and turning off both burners.

Hotch grabbed three plates, setting them down next to her so she could split up the sausage links. As soon as she was done, Hotch set to putting a few pancakes on each plate, and Y/N grabbed butter and syrup out of the fridge. He prepared Jack’s for him and set the plate in front of him with a fork. He then waited for Y/N to start the working on her own before he prepared his. She took a seat first, leaving a seat in the middle for Hotch. They ate quietly, sharing a few words when Jack wanted to talk about what he got to do at school the day before, and what he was looking forward to for the rest of the week.

“Hey,” Y/N, nudging Hotch’s arm as she pushed her plate away from her. “Could we get to the office a little early? I’m gonna have to get dressed there since my go bag is there and all.”

“Of course.” He nodded, sipping at the last of his coffee. He then turned to Jack. “Can you go get dressed to go to school, please?”

“Yeah,” he said, hopping off the stool and running off towards his room.

“I think I’m gonna put on my stuff from yesterday till we get there,” Y/N said, sliding off of her stool. “Not sure walking into the office in your pajamas would be a great look.”

“Maybe not the most professional outfit,” he agreed, laughing a little as he walked around the counter, putting dishes in the sink for later. “For the record, I think you look beautiful.”

She paused, feeling heat rise to her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, arms crossing over her chest. “Looks better on you, though.”

And with that, she left to go change. Hotch waited in the kitchen for a moment, almost in shock, before heading off to his room to get ready for the day.

It wasn’t long before they were both showered and ready to go, Jack practically running out the door when his aunt arrived to take him to school. Hotch and Y/N drove to work in a comfortable silence, only the sound of the radio playing low. They arrived at the BAU, and went straight inside. Hotch went to his office, and Y/N was reaching for her duffel bag when the glass doors opened.

She looked up, not expecting anyone else to be there so early.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We don’t start for another half hour,” she inquired.

“Just needed to get some work done early. But I could ask you the same thing.” Derek smiled at her, then glanced at what she was wearing. “Hold on, aren’t those your clothes from yesterday?”

He inched closer, a slight smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I was just about to go change.” She held up her go bag.

“Mhm.” He crossed his arms. “What happened to just looking after Jack for a while? You decide you were finally gonna get after—”

“Derek!” she interrupted, laughing. “No! I just stayed the night with Jack in the guest room.”

He raised a brow. “And that’s all? Baby girl I know you’ve had a little crush on Hotch since you walked in here.”

She bit her cheek, looking away for a moment. “You’re nothing but trouble, Morgan.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He stepped closer.

“Okay, fine.” She huffed out a sigh and lowered her voice. “We had breakfast this morning, with Jack.”

��And?”

She paused. “He also slept with me and Jack, but it was an accident. He didn’t mean to fall asleep there. We didn’t even touch one another, it was totally platonic.”

“Well, I am sure Hotch wouldn’t be sneaking into bed with me if I was watching his kid.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s totally not into me. You know how he is with work policy, and besides he is way out of my league.”

“You need to think a little higher of yourself.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She laughed again. “Now, out of my way so I can get dressed. I don’t need any more questions from the rest of the team.”

“Alright.” He stepped back holding up his hands.

“And Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Do not tell anybody.”

She pointed a finger in his direction as she spoke. He only chuckled, taking a seat at his desk.

She went to the bathroom, changing out of her old clothes and throwing on some new ones suitable for work at the office. She put on a little makeup, threw on some deodorant, and called it good. She stepped out to a slightly more full bullpen, only a couple more people had arrived. She shoved her go bag under her desk, and walked over to the kitchenette table where Derek, Hotch, and Emily were talking.

“How’s it going, guys?” she asked, taking the seat next to Emily, across from Morgan and Hotch.

“Talking about yesterday’s case. The daughter of the last victim made it safely to her grandparents’ house,” Emily said, sipping at a mug of coffee.

“That’s awesome. I’m glad she had them to go to,” she said, leaning forward on the table.

“You need coffee?” Emily asked, looking to Y/N.

“Oh, no thanks. I got my share this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you did,” Derek said, holding back a smile.

“Morgan.” Y/N glared at him.

Hotch caught her eye for a moment afterwards, questioning. She slightly shook her head in amusement.

“What happened?” Emily asked, a curious smile on her face looking between Y/N and Derek.

“Nothing, he just doesn’t understand boundaries,” she said with a pointed finger. “Trying to blow things way out of proportion as always.”

This time she glanced at Hotch first, rolling her eyes a little. He smirked, looking down at his hands.

Emily watched the little interaction with interest.

“Does it have something to do with these two?” she inquired, looking back to Derek.

Y/N and Hotch spoke over each other.

“Nothing happened,” Y/N muttered.

“What?” Hotch questioned.

Derek looked to Hotch. “Can we go talk?”

Hotch furrowed his brow. “May I ask what about?”

“It’s nothing. It’ll just take a couple minutes.”

“Alright,” he said, standing up and nodding a quick goodbye to Emily and Y/N.

Derek followed after, throwing a devious look Y/N’s way.

Emily leaned over, speaking more quietly. “Something I should know about you and Hotch?”

“No,” she chuckled. “Derek is just… Himself.”

“Something had to have happened.” Emily turned in her chair, and made Y/N face her. “Spill.”

“I went to watch Jack last night so Hotch could get some rest. We had breakfast this morning with Jack, and he accidentally fell asleep next to Jack and I while we were watching a movie.” She sighed. “I told Derek, and now he’s freaking out about it like something happened.”

“Y/N. You slept at his house.”

“To watch his kid.”

“Wait, you said he fell asleep next to you and Jack.” A smile crept on her face. “Was that on a couch or in a bed?”

“Emily,” she groaned.

“Y/N!” Her eyes went wide. “How can you still think he’s not interested in you?”

“He’s not.”

“You’re both blind.”

Hotch led Derek to his office, only leaving the door a little cracked.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked, leaning against his desk. Derek stood in front of him.

“Yeah. About you and Y/N.”

“Morgan.”

“Hotch, I know you don’t want to admit it, but I know you’re into that girl.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “She told me about last night and this morning.”

“She was watching Jack. Nothing more.” Hotch shook his head. “This isn’t an appropriate conversation for work.”

“Work doesn’t start for another ten minutes.”

Hotch only stared.

“Look, I just think you should ask her out.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?” Derek let his arms drop to rest on his hips, tilting his head.

“I’m her boss,” he replied, straightening up.

“But what is really the harm in trying?”

“She’s—” he started, and then paused, shaking his head.

“She’s what? Amazing? Gorgeous? Smart?”

“She wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. So, it doesn’t matter anyways,” Hotch said, glancing down. “We start the day in 5.”

“Great, that’s plenty of time.” Derek paused a second. “Why would you think she’s not into you?”

“I’m— I have a child, and I’m a widow. She doesn’t need all of that on her plate. Plus, she’s young. She’d be better off with somebody your age,” he said, looking up again to catch Derek’s eye.

“Man, you are so blind.”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head.

The day started as usual. The team had a briefing, and then went to work at their desks for a while. Today was going to be a slower day, and everyone seemed to be thankful they could get home at the end of the day. At lunch, Y/N noticed Derek and Emily talking quietly: she thought it was awfully suspicious.

“Hey, you two,” she called out, walking over to Emily’s desk. “Why are you being so quiet, it’s weird.”

Derek glanced up. “Nothing.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, turning to Emily in question.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”

“You two are bad liars.” Then, she had an idea. “Hey, Reid.”

His head popped up, looking to her. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been sitting here next to them, what are they talking about?”

He looked lost, glancing around. “I—Uh… I have no clue.”

“Now, see, you I believe,” she laughed, ruffling his hair as she went past.

He frowned, quickly smoothing it back out. She headed off towards Hotch’s office instead, trying to ignore the whispers that has started back up.

She knocked quietly on the open door.

“Hey, you busy?”

She popped her head in to see him eating a sandwich at his desk.

He shook his head, swallowing a bite. “No, come in.”

She closed the door and went to sit at the chair by his desk.

“Derek has been weird all day. What did you guys talk about earlier? I can’t get an answer to save my life.”

His eyes went wide.

“What?” she questioned, noticing Hotch going more on-edge.

“Uh, it was— It was nothing. Just a work thing.”

“You know, you’re a really bad liar, too.”

He chuckled, looking away. “I just don’t think this is the right time to talk.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

He glanced up at her, looking her in the eyes, searching for an easy answer.

“It was just— It was about last night. And this morning.”

She groaned. “Great. I knew I shouldn’t have told him anything.”

Hotch just sighed, looking at her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d say anything,” she offered as an apology.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just that…” He let out a slow breath. “He brought up something that I think I want to talk to you about. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“Okay, what is it?” she questioned, straightening up in her chair.

“He, uh, brought up everything from last night and this morning. And he brought up how that’s not something that I would normally do. Or something you would normally do.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomf—”

“No, it wasn’t that. It’s just,” he paused, watching her for a second. “I need to know if you feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”

Her heart was racing and heat rose to her face. She was breathless.

“W-what?”

“I’m so sorry, I know this is inappropriate, but…”

“What are you asking?”

“I just need to know how you feel. About me.”

He looked at her, almost pleading for the answer he deeply wanted.

“I’m— I think you’re amazing. I think you’re a wonderful father, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way you do,” she began in a ramble. “I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’re so out of my league, but after talking to Derek this morning, and Emily, I just… I don’t know. I want to hope.”

Hotch furrowed his brow, and Y/N took in a breath, ready for rejection.

“You think I’m out of your league?”

“I mean… Yeah?” She tilted her head. “You’re really incredible.”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Y/N, for profilers I don’t think we’ve been very good at reading one another,” he said quietly. “I thought I was the last person you’d ever be interested in.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m a widow, I’m older than you, I have a son…”

“A son that I love. I’d do anything for that kid.”

“I know.”

He smiled again, watching her. She couldn’t help but to smile back.

“As for the other stuff, I couldn’t care less. You’re so much more than that.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she continued to smile at him. “We really are pretty dumb, huh?”

“Very, apparently,” he agreed with a nod.

She checked the time. “Lunch break is almost over. I better go.”

He nodded again. “Yeah. Talk more later?”

“Of course.”

She waved a goodbye, walking towards the door. With one hand on the handle, she felt something grip her arm and spin her around. She was met with Hotch’s lips on hers, a kiss that took her breath away. They broke apart after a minute, both smiling like giddy teenagers.

“When I tell you that’s all I could think about doing this morning…” she began.

“Me too,” he agreed, looking into her eyes as his hand stroked her cheek. “Especially when I got to wake up to you in my clothes. It was killing me.”

She giggled, leaning in for one more kiss. It was slower this time, more gentle. She backed away afterwards, just enough to be able to speak against his lips.

“I think maybe we should thank Derek and Emily.”

“And let them feel like they won?”

“Good point.”

He let her go to get back to the bullpen, but as she attempted to turn the handle of the door, she was knocked back into his chest. Of course.

“You’re welcome,” Derek said with a smile after assessing what must have just happened.

“You don’t get credit for this,” Y/N laughed.

“Mhm. But it’s totally on me,” he said, raising a brow. He started walking back out, but not before… “Don’t you two take too long in there.”

FULL MASTERLIST

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #jealous!aaron hotchner #luna's hotch fics

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fairy-writes · 6 months ago

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Hello! can you do a gen narumi x reader where the reader is also from the defense force and goes on a lot of missions, they get nightmares a lot because of the missions and gen practically begs them each day to just stop going on missions and that even if he is the only one working he makes buckets of money and the reader should just relax. The reader still refuses and goes a very tough mission. Where they get severely injured and are unconscious for days and like gen takes care of them, its super fluff/comfort. Can it please be x female reader or gender neutral. Thanks and take care<3

RUNNING AWAY FROM WHAT?

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Defense Force!Reader, Arguments, Injuries, Making Up

Notes: You guys love having scenarios where the reader is in the hospital.

I'm combining this with another similar request that I got in my inbox!

TW for mentions of suicide (no one is suicidal; it’s just talked about)

__________________________________________________________________________

“Where are you going?” Gen’s sleep-filled voice makes you freeze in your tracks. You look back to find him half-sitting up in bed, bags under his eyes stretching for miles. You look back to your workout clothes and shrug,

“I'm going for a run. I can’t sleep.” You say quickly and head to the genkan to put on your running shoes.

The sun hasn’t even risen yet, but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. The sense of being watched by Kaiju. You can’t shake the cold sweat dripping down your back and temples. So, you decide exercise is the healthiest way to get the feeling off your back.

Gen scrambles to get out of bed and follow you. He doesn’t even grab his phone to check social media, so you know he’s genuinely worried. But by the time he manages to untangle himself from his blanket, you’re already laced up and opening the door.

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” He says, hand catching the door to keep you from opening it. You scowl at the wood but don’t say anything.

Because what could you say?

He was right, anyway.

Gen knew he was right because his grip tightened on the door as you tried to open it further.

“You did, didn’t you?” He asks, and you hunch your shoulders,

“What does it matter? I want to go for a run, so I’m going for a run.” You say, trying to keep your emotions under control even though they’re raging like a Kaiju out of hell.

Gen’s scowl deepens to match yours, but he relents.

“Fine. Whatever.” He says, lets go of the door, and sits down at the genkan to put on his shoes.

“What are you doing?” You ask, and his scowl is ever-present as he stands up and opens the door.

“I’m going with you.”

“What? Why?! Go back to bed!” You snap angrily. A combination of no sleep for the last week and your ever-present nightmares have made your temper short.

But Gen takes your snapping in stride and grabs your hand,

“I won’t be able to sleep until you’re home safe anyway. I might as well go with you.” He says with a yawn.

So that led you to where you are now, sprinting around the First Division’s track until your bones feel like jelly. Gen keeps up easily, barely breaking a sweat. Yet, he doesn’t say anything while you run. He only speaks when you slow down to stop and put your hands on your knees, breathing heavily.

“Are you done?” He asks, and your temper spikes just slightly.

“No.” You say, straightening up to take another lap.

He catches your hand and makes you stop. You look up at the sky, praying for patience that you don’t have.

“Are you trying to kill yourself then?” He grits out, and you stare dumbly at him.

What was he trying to say?

Gen notices your look and throws his hands up.

“You don’t eat, you barely sleep, you’re getting more and more reckless on missions. It’s like you’re trying to die!” His voice is nearing a shout, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Who cares if you wake up people in the dorms?

“I’m just doing my job, Gen! In case you forgot, not everyone is as strong as you!” You retort, and he scowls, knowing full well you’re just barely telling the truth. Well… You’re telling the truth about not being as strong as him. But everything else? You’re just barely surviving.

“You know you don’t have to work in the Defense Force anymore! You know I make enough money to support the both of us!” Gen argues, and you grind your teeth. This argument again?

“And you know why I won’t do that!” You snap back.

The two of you fight back and forth before Gen just gives up and leaves. You had always been the type to drag out arguments much longer than they ever needed to be. And it got on your boyfriend’s nerves every time.

You make a few more laps around the track before you’re called in for a Kaiju attack.

You open your eyes and immediately realize you’re in the hospital. If the bright ass lights didn’t give it away, the scent of antiseptic did. As did the familiar beeping of your vital signs.

You hated hospitals. You had spent your fair share of time in them and had vowed to never spend another day in one again.

Looks like you broke that promise to yourself.

The scent of antiseptic makes you sneeze, and your head pounds.

“So you’re awake.” Comes Gen’s voice, and you look to your right, where he’s staring down at his phone, typing out a text or playing some game. You honestly can’t tell which. He reaches to the side without looking and presses the button to summon the nurse to your room.

“I am. What happened?” You ask, wracking your brain for any remaining memories.

Nothing. You remembered your nightmares, running at the track, arguing with Gen, and then… Nothing.

“You got hurt. Badly. The doc wasn’t sure you’d wake up for a while.” He said, tone clipped. He was still upset. That much was obvious.

“How long was I out?” You asked. He finally set down his phone and looked you in the eye.

He looked… Awful…

The bags under his eyes were worse than usual, and you were positive his jacket was looser on him than it used to be. Had he lost weight? His skin had a slight sickly pallor, only noticeable since you were looking for it.

“Two weeks. You were put into a medically induced coma after three days to help you heal.” He said curtly, and you nodded wearily. You had been awake for not even ten minutes, and you were already exhausted.

At least, you were until you realized you couldn’t feel the bottom half of your body.

Then, the panic set in.

“Gen… I can’t feel my legs…” The panic was thick like fog in your voice, and as you tried to sit up, his hand gently pushed you down into your pillows. But you began to struggle the best you could. “ What’s going on?! Gen!”

“It’s alright.” He said, but your head whipped around to look at him, eyes wide and tears welling up.

You couldn’t be a Defense Force Officer with no feeling in your legs! You couldn’t do your job! You couldn’t save people! You couldn’t—

A hand on your face stopped your downward spiral, and you stilled, looking up into Gen’s red eyes. He offered a crooked smile that gave you a sense of comfort.

“The doctor thinks it’ll only be temporary. You’ll just be on bedrest until then.” He explains, voice softer now and more gentle. He must’ve really been worried about you to speak to you like this.

The nurse finally comes in with the doctor, and they check you over before giving you the green light to be cared for at home if you so wish. And that was something you agreed to immediately. Be stuck in the hospital for days or weeks on end when you could just sleep at home? Ha! The answer was a no-brainer.

Gen insists on wheeling you out to the curb where he then calls for Hasegawa to come pick you up. He sits next to you as you put the wheelchair brakes on and pulls out his phone again. Meanwhile, you watch the sky and think.

And think.

“Gen?” You whisper into the wind and hear him grunt in return. You look down where he’s squatting on the curb, muttering about HP and leveling up as he holds his phone sideways to play a game. You take a deep breath and hang your head. “I’m sorry.”

That gets him to stop. His game is paused, and he looks up at you with narrowed eyes.

“This some kind of joke? You never apologize.” He says, and you huff out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I know. And I’m sorry about that too. But I’m sorry for arguing. I know you only want what’s best for me in your own way. And I’m sorry—”

“Hold on. Are you breaking up with me?” He cuts you off, and you stare stupidly at your boyfriend before shaking your head.

“No! I just want to apologize for being an ass.”

He stares just as stupidly until Hasegawa shows up with a van and helps get you loaded inside.

It isn’t until you’re back at your shared apartment that Gen speaks again.

“I should apologize too… For also being an ass. I know you’re struggling, and I was just trying to help.” He mumbled, scratching at the back of his head and averting his gaze from yours. You smile, chuckle a little, and reply.

“Hasegawa put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“So what if he did?! I’m apologizing, aren’t I?!”

You begin to laugh even more, and when you finally get your giggles under control, you catch him looking at you with a lovesick look.

“Y’know… I think I might take a break from Kaiju hunting. Go to therapy for my nightmares and all that.” You say, and he grins before turning back to his game.

“I’m glad.”

#narumi gen x reader #gen narumi x reader #narumi x reader #gen x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #fairy writes

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