#he's allegedly in the US dealing with that now

[ellecdc]

Love, i hope youre staying hydrated 🩵

A poly!wolfstar idea that lives rent free is that Rem, for lack of a better word, hoards Siri and Reader as it gets closer to the fullmoon/ a specific type of moon. Like a dragon. Hes so openly, aggressively affectionate too and is much more likely to mamhandle them

thank you all for constantly reminding me to drink more water - you're my heroes.

poly!WolfStar x fem!reader

CW: territorial boyfriend, slight jealousy, dom/sub dynamics if you squint but SFW

You weren’t hiding. Not really...

But you were also sort of kind of definitely hiding.

You loved your boyfriends, both of them, so damn much. And for the majority of the month, it was Sirius driving the two of you up the wall (affectionately). But as the night of the full moon dragged closer and closer, you and Sirius could hardly move without Remus’ sights set on you.

Most of the time, you and Sirius handled Moony’s obsession quite well in your humble opinion; you usually relished in his neediness and all the affection he showered on you. 

But exam season was around the corner, and you were currently hanging on by a thread.

Anything and everything that could have gone wrong today did; you got a run in your sheer tights at breakfast, you only received an acceptable on your most recent essay for Charms, you dropped your potion during class which spilt on your shoes, and you forgot your textbook for Transfiguration which earned you house points and detention.

So, you loved Remus – truly, you would die for him – but you needed to get this redraft of your essay for Potions finished (using the corrections you received on your dreadful Charms essay) and you could not deal with Sirius’ non-stop flirting and joking which you knew you’d have to deal with if you let Remus drag you up to his dorm room as he wont to do.

So, you were hiding.

Definitely hiding.

In the furthest corner in the library that you could manage which was probably not the best hiding place from the studious, book-loving lycanthrope – but you were too desperate to be making effective plans right now.

You probably should have tried a little harder.

“There you are.” Remus’ lilting voice floated to you in your little corner of solitude. 

“Hey, Moons.” You called quietly as he approached you and placed a searing kiss to your lips, his hand at the nape of your neck keeping your head in place for him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me.” He whispered against your lips with a smirk.

Your face flooded with heat at the prospect of being caught, but Remus just chuckled and pressed another kiss to your lips before he pulled back and took a seat beside you. 

“Where’s Sirius?” You asked.

Remus looked at you from the corner of his eye as he pulled out a book from his bag. “Practice, why?”

You felt your shoulders drop in relief at the idea that you may actually be able to finish this essay before Sirius came to (lovingly) distract you.

Remus hummed at you as a grin grew across his face. “Ah, perhaps it’s not necessarily me you’re avoiding?”

Your face heated again at the mortifying ordeal of being known.

“I love him, I love you, I love you both, but I-” 

“Hey,” Remus interrupted what was quickly becoming an increasingly panicked tangent as he slid his hand into yours. “It’s okay dovey, you do what you need to do. I’ll try to control myself and keep Sirius busy, okay?”

And Remus kept his word...mostly.

He had his hand on you at all times: it started with your hand in his before you needed to pull it away to flip through your parchment, which became a solid grip on your thigh as he continued reading before that hand began to migrate further up your thigh and tease around the bottom of your skirt to which you whined “Moony” at and pushed his hand away. 

It was when Remus - apparently provoked by some younger Hufflepuff allegedly “making googly eyes at you” from across the aisle - hauled you into his lap and began nipping at your neck that you decided you had gotten all the revising you were going to get done today, done.

“Hungry, dove?” He asked into your neck.

You wanted to roll your eyes, but the way his hands wrapped around your middle to envelop you in a sweet hug as he murmured into the crook of your neck made you melt a little.

“Yeah.”

You could feel him smile against your skin and press one more kiss to it before he was helping you off of his lap and packing your things up. “Let’s go to dinner then.”

Remus held your hand and carried your bag all the way to the Great Hall before all but seating you himself and pressing himself up against your side on the bench of the Gryffindor table.

Lily smirked at you from her place before ensuring no one around could hear her.

“If I hadn’t known it was Remus’ time of the month already, this would have solidified it for me.” She said with a salacious wink.

You tried to glare at her, but Remus took that moment to shove his face back into the crook of your neck causing you to flush and duck your head shyly.

You heard boisterous laughing at the entrance to the Great Hall as the Gryffindor quidditch team made their way in from their practice.

You smirked at the sight, specifically Sirius, who had obviously showered - his hair was still damp, and his cheeks were still flushed a pretty pink from the adrenaline of his flight.

A gruff moan from your boyfriend seated beside you alerted you to his shared appreciation of the scenery.

However, Sirius flashed the two of you a smirk and a wink before following McKinnon over to the Ravenclaw table where Dorcas was sitting with Pandora.

Remus tensed slightly but settled for pulling your closer into his side.

It didn’t last long, however, when a particular bark of laughter garnered yours and Remus’ attention only to find Sirius talking to a Ravenclaw girl everyone knew had a raging crush on him.

Now, it’s important to note that Sirius was not deceitful nor disloyal to you and Remus, but he was mischievous and... bratty... sometimes.

Usually, you and Remus would scoff and laugh, and he’d tell you he would deal with this later causing Sirius to pout and whine, begging for attention – but today Remus immediately rose from his seat and grabbed both of your book bags, calling over a hasty “let’s go dove” as he stalked over to the Ravenclaw table to throw your shared boyfriend over his shoulder and stalk up to Gryffindor tower. 

You knew Sirius was going to pay for it tonight. 

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Look at how big my titties are getting.... so full of milk! I look like a regular breeding cow already. It's so wonderful seeing my pretty little boobs start to get so heavy and swollen. Pregnancy is amazingly fun! I was a bit worried when my doctor said he signed me up for this! I mean, I've been living as a girl for a little while now and my transition has been going super well. But as soon as I turned 18 he was like, "Emily, now that you're old enough I think you're ready to start carrying a few kids, don't you?" I was like "Uhhhh, sure?" And he had me sign all these wavers, despite me not 100% knowing what I was getting myself into!

Soooo, apparently I was entered into a trial to be continually impregnated on high doses of fertility drugs for a decade. My paperwork says that 'the patient's uterus is expected to produce a minimum of 100 kids in that time.' The minimum!? Ummmm...... wow. But I'm not too surprised. I'm only like six months along and I look huge. It's definitely making playing field hockey a lot more challenging, but as expected we are college girls now so over half of us are pregnant anyway. So I guess it's not a huge deal but when the other girls check me or tackle me I feel like my belly's gonna pop like a balloon, which would be fun to see, I suppose.... Hasn't happened yet though!

So, not only was I forcibly entered into this clinical breeding trial or whatever but I realized the procedure was pretty quick.... I asked my surgeon and I'm not going on Rocket, so I'm not giving birth urethrally, and they didn't hook my birth canal up anywhere, so I won't be giving birth anally like a lot of trans girls..... I decided to ask if they intended to do a new surgery and they said no. So I asked how am I giving birth? The people running the trial said a small device is hooked to my womb, when my babies are ready it'll emit a signal, telling them where I am.....

Guys, get this: I won't know when it's going off. They said they only perform the retrieval between 9-5 Mon-Fri. So I'll be at school or out, going about my day and they'll come by. Allegedly they'll have me take off my clothes wherever I am, they'll smear my belly with numbing cream, and..... perform a C-Section no matter where I am. College? A crowded mall? A movie theater? I'll have no choice, they'll just rip off my clothes, prep me, and open my belly like it's a casual, minor test they're performing, like drawing blood or weighing me or something. Then they'll take my babies to the usual government-owned civilian living centers all these babies are raised at by all these government-appointed breeders who manage to make it to thirty. I might end up being a full-time mom like that one day, if I'm lucky and I don't pop! So.... I have public C-Sections to look forward to! Wonder if it happens even if some random guy is fucking me as I try to go about my day? Wouldn't surprise me one bit.....

Guess I'm still glad I transitioned, even if being forced to have a uterus and pump out babies like a factory was not how I envisioned my twenties. No big deal, I guess. I love having this huge belly, and guys and girls go crazy about it! They go even crazier when they see I have a nice, thick cock between my legs, too.... I feel like it's getting even bigger lately, maybe it's just getting swollen because I jerk off so often? And every other person I run into gives it a few healthy tugs when they reach up my skirt or dresses..... Mmmmm, speaking of which I think I'm gonna put on a cute tiny dress and go out clubbing tonight. My poor pregnant body is just begging to be pounded by twenty or thirty cocks..... I'm sure my professors will understand if I'm late to class tomorrow!"

[igotanidea]

(5) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

A/N: bit of a filler, but I promise we'll get more action in the next part, so deal with me here guys XD

***

„Is it done?”

„Yes. Yes, it’s fucking done. Hope you are fucking happy.”

“You don’t see the bigger picture now and-“

“Fuck the bigger picture! And fuck you! I hurt two people because of your stupid plan!”

“Be careful with how you talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you exactly the way I should!”

“You act like a moody teenager. All that rebellious attitude and for what? In the end, for obvious reasons you are going to do what I tell you.”

They both knew that was true. But it did not lessen the pain of what happened merely hours ago.

***

There was no way in hell Y/N was going to forgive him. Ever.

He did the unspeakable. Promised her his love and then took it away to another woman. The women he allegedly had no ties with.

So it not only made him a cheater but also a liar.

And all of that right after she had the most amazing intimate experience of her life.

The second she fled his and Sienna’s apartment and found herself in her own four walls, Y/n made a promise to herself to tear it from her mind. However, it seemed like her body had quite a different plan.

For some reason everything felt different. Her skin. Her belly, her breasts, her legs, her—.

No, no, no…

They say you always remember your first time. That it tends to haunt you and everything that follows is forever tainted with the way you’ve been treated then.

For Y/N it felt like the memory of Dick’s tender touch, gentle movements and passionate kisses would forever be overshadowed by the heartbreak that came right after.

So he made her a woman by both taking and breaking her.  

***

While Y/N took the easy, if not cowardly way out, Dick and Sienna were rooted to the ground watching each other in the silence that was deafening.

What now?

Who was supposed to say something first?

And say what?

What words could possibly mitigate the situation?

The truth?

He couldn’t tell Sienna that it was all fake, that he never did and still does not love her. Enough damage has been done. Besides, there was also “the plan”. The great fucking batman plan to get to that stupid villain and prevent harming people.

Dick has already sacrificed so much for “the plan”. Losing Y/N. Causing her pain. Making her believe like he didn’t care. That he just wanted to get her to bed, fuck and toss her away. It truly should have been Jason to get assigned to this mission. He would just barge inside, force information out and kill whoever needed to be killed.

Boom! Mission completed with no girls with broken hearts.

But no.

Instead it was Dick with his conscience stained. Watching the woman he loved running away with tears and the woman he was using with a blank face expression.

“Sienna…” he started with a shaky voice, taking one step forward, expecting her to start screaming or pull back and move out of his reach. But she didn’t.

“Are you done now?”

“Done?” He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You had your fun?” the woman asked and much to Dick’s shock there was not much anger in her voice.

“I—um. What? Aren’t you mad?” It was most probably idiotic to ask her that, but Sienna’s casual approach to the situation was quite disturbing and the words left his mouth before he could think them through.

‘Mad?” she looked at him with wide eyes. “No. No I’m not mad, baby. A little disappointed maybe. But not mad. I mean, you were just lonely, right?”

“Um—.” What the hell was happening here!?

“Come on. Y/N is a wonderful person, but she also seems lonely so—”

“You were wrestling with her minutes ago!” Dick exclaimed. Now it started to feel like he was functioning in a different reality. The one where everything was abstract, the sequence of events made zero sense and women were strangely  understanding when it came to sleeping with someone else. But it could also mean that in that reality he had a chance of having Y/N forgive him, because clearly logic was non-applicable.

“Sure. Can’t have her thinking like she can just barge in and take what’s mine.” Sienna stepped forward, smiling sadly “but right now, she’s the one gone and you’re here with me. So it’s what speaks volumes about who you love.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking down, his hands shaking, heart racing.

“I’m still hurt though… After all, you slept with another girl while thinking I was away.”

As much as he wanted to tell her to shove her hurt up her ass, he couldn’t. And this time it was not only because of the plan, but also because Sienna deserved better from him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered earnestly. He was sorry for the entire mess up, but not sorry for taking things further with Y/N.

“I know.”

“What can I do--?”

“I don’t know. Not yet. But I do want us to work through it. Okay?” The woman smiled softly, giving him the vulnerable look that always softened him, no matter if it was a girl, child or stray cat.

“Okay…” He promised, pulling Sienna to his chest, feeling her arms wrap around him, hating his life, Nightwing, Batman and everything In between.

***

He stayed home that night. Purposefully putting his phone on silent mode, giving no shit about whatever Bruce might want from him and he was now probably planning next steps of putting the mission to the end.

He stayed with Sienna.

Laying on his side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

***

His arms were around her, but Sienna knew that his heart was aching for Y/N.

She could have had him next to her, she could have him staying instead of chasing after the other, but she didn’t have his heart. It was forever out of her reach.

But that was something she could live with. Sacrificing her dignity and self-esteem as long as he was physically here. And while she was in deep emotional pain, she was going to endure.

Laying on her side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

She had to.

***

Y/N was tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Emotions clouding her judgment making her unsure whether she was the victim or the culprit. Or maybe both. She never should have believed him. She never should have done this to another girl. And to herself. 

She only had herself to blame.

Laying on her side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

***

“Now that we made them break—”

“You are a monster, you know that?”

“Even a monster has his reasons for doing things. Or should I remind you what’s on stake here?”

“No. No you don’t have to…”

“Good. So you listen carefully, because your input is crucial in putting this thing to an end. You are going to go on a date that will be the final piece in the puzzle. Then you’ll be free.”

“Yeah… free… right after ruining everything…”

To be continued.

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx

[theculturedmarxist]

Even if Project 2025 was the real deal, to get my vote the Democrats would need a much better strategy for dealing with it than "just vote for the guy already doing all the things we're accusing Trump of doing."

The entire premise of the whole stupid thing is that Trump is going to use all the powers the president actually has except it's badwrong when he does it. We're also being expected to believe that, against all logic, all evidence, that the person with all the power to stop Trump and Trumpism but simply hasn't is now actually going to stop all this shit that Trump allegedly wants to do.

That was the entire point of voting for Biden in the first place, and we've seen him spend the past four years not doing anything to undo any of the awful shit that Trump did like cracking down on people crossing the border. No, the only Trump policies that Biden's bothered to undo is all the good shit we got thanks to covid.

You have to be a real fucking moron to be taken in by this shit a second fucking time.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Concerning the "in front of 200 witnesses" part of the Kenpachi Succession, does that mean that if too many people die they have to postpone it until they can get more people who want the job, or do they specifically collect 200 people who won't be participating in that tourney to watch?

In AEIWAM, the current rules for the 11th Division Captaincy are:

THE 11TH DIVISION RULE: To become captain of the 11th Division, you must defeat the current 11th Division Captain

This was the first and only rule Yachiru Unohana made regarding succession of the Captaincy of the 11th division. This Means:

The 11th Division does not accept appointed captains- either by the usual process, a nominee of the central 46, or some noble house- and if you try to become captain without defeating the previous one (or now, adhering to The Amendments), the members of the 11th WILL kill you for trying.

The right to challenge the captain is available to anyone that is not expressly an enemy of the court guard. For example: No Sternritter could take over the 11th by killing Zaraki Kenpachi, because they are declared enemies. A Very Large Lizard could eat him and become captain though, because Soul Society is not currently at war with Very Large Lizards.

People with the express right to challenge for the right of captaincy includes but not limited to: Current Shinigami, Retired Shinigami, Students of Shinigami Academy, Various Animals, Peasants, Kami, Theoretically a Hollow if they weren't in jail for eating people somehow?, politicians if they CAN use a sword right, Mothman...

While this rule does generally keep with Unohana's intent that the 11th only ever be commanded by someone who understood what battle was all about and would walk with their troops, it did also lead to kind of a lot of backstabbing and murder and general disarray as people constantly jockeyed for the position. Since then, Yamamoto has had to make a few Addendums in order to, you know, keep the 11th actually running:

Amendment 1: The 11th Division Rule applies ONLY to the 11th Division. You must follow the normal means of becoming a captain (passing the captain's exam with 3 other captains as witnesses, or getting the vote of confidence of other captains in a vote.) to become captain of any other division.

This a notable rule because literally the week after Unohana established the rule, some moron tried to claim that he should be allowed to command the 3rd, because he'd killed the 3rd division captain* in a bar fight. The moron was summarily incinerated on the spot, but Yamamoto decided to make sure to put it in writing, so he would not have to deal with That Stupidity again.

*allegedly. Kinroku was a slippery little fuck ans Yamamoto was never 100% certain if the mangled human remains wearing Kinroku's glasses really were him or if he had done a runner to enjoy his retirement in peace.

Yamamoto would instead be forced to deal with other, much worse stupidity.

Unohana Kenpachi held her position as the Captain of the 11th Division for well over a century after she established that sucession rule, until an Unwitnessed fight in the North 80th or "Zaraki" District inured her already-compromised left lung to the point that it needed to be removed. She was defeated in battle (by point of surrender) by her first lieutenant the day after she got out of the hospital, much to her satisfaction.

Trouble was, Captain Kuzuri Kenpachi was then BESET with constant challenges to her authority, assassination attempts and so much resistance she could hardly get the Division in line long enough to do it's job, and the fatalities from Kuzuri defending her life and job were starting to add up, so Yamamoto instituted the second addendums to the rules:

Amendment Two: Conditions Of Functionality

2.1: You must duel The Current Captain Of the 11th Division, in a one-on-one duel, after expressly challenging them for the right to be Captain.

This Means NO:

Ganging up on the captain (this is to prove your individual worthiness, not your choreography skills)

Assassinations (go apply yourself over at the 2nd division),

No randomly killing your boss, and declaring it a challenge to get out of murder charges after the fact.

2.2: This Duel must be witnessed by at least 200 people who do not have political, financial or other motivation to lie about the events later.

Yamamoto needs to be DAMN SURE you actually followed the above rules.

2.2.1: At least two of those witnesses need to be 10th seat or higher officers from two different divisions from both each other and the division the challenger might belong to.

-And that some rich asshole didn't just pay 200 people to say that's what happened.

If you're going to do a political conspiracy, put some EFFORT in.

2.3: Defeat can be defined before combat if both participants agree to the terms. For instance, they can decide to end combat when one participant: Starts bleeding, leaves an agreed-upon arena, stays down for a 10 count, is rendered unconscious, or surrenders. If no terms are negotiated, the duel is to be to the death, even if one participant is unable to fight.

Kuzuri please, the body count is starting to interfere with recruitment.

After that, since the challengers had to actually try to fight Kuzuri fairly, the frequency of attempts went down to a manageable level, and the quality of challengers steadily improved until she was defeated on the terms of a ten-count 78 years into her captaincy by another Shinigami, who became the third captain of the Division, Mizutsuga Kenpachi.

Mizutsuga lead the 11th Division for 98 years before suddenly dying in a bizarre case of Cicutoxin Poisoning from eating Water Hemlock, misidentified as the Division's perfectly edible flower, Yarrow. Then followed a bit of a struggle- Nobody was quite sure HOW to appoint the next captain, and there were not a lot of people eager to take the job. So Yamamoto was forced to create:

Amendment Three: In Case Of No Succession:

3.1 If The Current Captain is not available to answer challenges due to being already dead, in jail, a coward, turned into a rat, lost in another dimension, or whatever, they are assumed to have surrendered the post. 3.2 Yamamoto will dictate A) If the current captain of the is in fact, not available and not just locked in a closet or otherwise being prevented from accepting the challenge by subterfuge. B) The terms of the battle that will be held to determine the next captain. 3.3 Please do not make him do this, he WILL be a Petty Asshole about it.

Frustrated that he'd had to micro-managed the 11th division's sucession twice now, Yamamoto ordered a Battle Royale and the last one still in the fight would be the new captain, leading to the appointment of Kiiro Kenpachi.

It turned out that the Battle Royale had not been Yamamoto's best plan, because Kiiro was less the Soul Society's strongest Swordsman and more Soul Society's most evasive little coward, who had simply remained hidden until all but the last few comppettitors were left, and exhausted. He governed the 11th division in much the same way, by managing to avoid doing his work, any responsibility and any challenge to his paycheck by Simply Not Being There, which is a great way to survive a war and a terrible way to run emergency services. after a mere 12 years of this malarkey, Yamamoto created:

Amendment Four: No Wiggling Out Of This One

4.1: For all 24 hours of November 11th every year, The Current Captain is REQUIRED to answer any challenge to their seat.

4.2: The rest of the year, the captain can choose to accept or turn a challenger down and tell them to get in line on Nov. 11th, or agree to answer the challenge at an agreed specified time and place. Like when they're not in the middle of an assignment.

Fearing for the safety of his life and his lucrative job, Kiiro arranged a tournament so that not only was HIS job up for grabs, so were the positions of all the seated officers, and the ensuing riot destroyed a large portion of the city and by the time the fires had been put out, it was November 12th, and Kiiro was still alive.

4.3: The Current Captain will make themselves available for challenge OUTSIDE the Seireitei in an area reasonably devoid of habitation but still accessible, with the presence of both:

the 4th division (to manage casualties)

another division (to keep the riot from spreading. We'll take turns doing this shit job.)

The New seated officers that had won their positions the previous year were also not fans of Kiiro, and traditionalists, and persuaded Yamamoto to add:

4.4: On November 11th, a ranking tournament will be held to determine the 200 strongest participants, who will then form that year's 11th Division.

Anyone not currently an enemy of the state is welcome to participate in the tournament

After they sign a wavier that we are not liable for damages done to them.

4.4.2 If any participant make it into the top 200, may immediately become shinigami and members of the 11th division without having to go through the Shigami academy

Studying is still recommended and free tuition will be offered

The top 20 ranked participants will become the new seated officer, with the top-ranked participant becoming the new captain.

4.4.3: FAILURE to participate in the tournament without sufficient excuse will result in immediate termination of your position and firing from the gotei-13.

The validity of any excuse will be determined by both presiding captains, who must both agree that the excuse is valid.

The following year the noise and scent of blood from "Eleventh Division Tryout Day" attracted the attention of an exceptionally large and powerful Tree Goana, who immediately devoured Kiiro Kenpachi, and, with nobody else wishing to become reptile snacks, became Tokagero Kenpachi, who served for 234 years before her disappearance, the longest term of any 11th Division Captain.

Yamamoto has not needed to manage the succession of 11th Division Captains since then, save to crack an eye open after the arrest and imprisonment of the 8th captain of the 11th, Azashiro Kenpachi, when his lieutenant proposed holding that year's tryout day a few weeks early instead, and abiding by those results until at least the following year, and nodding in agreement. Now THAT is how you manage.

So to actually answer your question: the 200 witnesses thing was ORIGINALLY to make sure that the rules of succession were being followed, but it has since morphed into a "Make sure there are 200 people alive to actually BE the 11th Division" thing, a "Contain the Riot" thing AND a "Unohana likes checking in on her old division and watching the carnage" thing.

[princessshikky]

Okay, this post has been a long time coming.

Basically, there is a huge amount of misconceptions about liujiu and their history, and it's very frustrating to see in arguments about canon, so. I'm here to clear Liu-shidi's reputation and browbeat SJ with a newspaper (affectionate).

There is a whooping total of 4 liujiu interaction scenes in SVSSS. In chronological order:

The first meeting occurs at an inter-peak competition, where SJ hates LQG at first glance. LQG wins a sparring and has an air of "matter-of-fact arrogance" about him, which only strengthens SJ's dislike. What's interesting is that next SJ ambushes LQG after the sparring and "uses every means" to attack him, as recounted by Yue Qingyuan. Which does nothing to endear SJ to LQG and makes LQG very understandaby wary of SJ.

The second meeting occurs in a brothel. Backstory: SJ stumbles upon a Baizhan disciple named Ji Jue on the street, they have a quarrel, SJ beats and seriously injures Ji Jue, then goes to a brothel. LQG hears about it and rushes to "teach SJ a lesson". Interestingly, nowhere in the text is it mentioned that SJ is injured in any way after his scuffle with LQG, even though the fight has apparently taken quite a while and LQG is a way better fighter than SJ.

The well mission. SJ, LQG and SQH are assigned to deal with some evil spirits in a remote village. Spirits fly out of an old well, one of them attempts to attack LQG from behind, SJ sees it and attacks the spirit, but accidentally brushes over LQG's shoulder, which LQG mistakes for an attempt to kill him. SQH tries to clear the misunderstanding, but SJ threatens him into silence. Again, LQG and SJ come to blows, but no injuries are mentioned.

The disciple acceptance ceremony. SJ and YQY are watching the potential recruits, LQG arrives, has a brief but civil conversation with YQY, SJ intervenes, LQG insults him and leaves.

That's it, folks! That's literally every liujiu interaction in canon! Now with this out of the way, let me disprove some of those fanons I see in liujiu fics every damn time I dare to open one.

LQG did not mistakenly believe SJ to be a son of a wealthy family. Nowhere in the book does LQG ever comment on SJ's origin. This is a fanon from "The Grand Unified Theory of Shen Qingqiu", which is a great fic, don't get me wrong, but god did it mess with people's perception!

In the same vein, LQG never accused SJ of being lazy. Ever. That was QQQ.

LQG wasn't unreasonable to immediately assume SJ was trying to kill him during the well assignment. Think of what LQG knows about SJ at this point: SJ is willing to ambush someone because of entirely stupid and petty reasons like a lost sparring; SJ is perfectly willing to seriously injure his fellow disciple (see: Ji Jue); SJ is constantly threatening to kill LQG (mentioned in the brothel scene); SJ is not above using dirty tricks to achieve his ends. Yes, the suspicion made SJ feel bad, which is perfectly understandable (poor SJ was just trying to help!), but it wasn't entirely baseless. LQG's conclusion was based on SJ's prior behavior.

Speaking of SJ's dirty tricks: no, when people mentioned SJ's penchant for dishonest means, they weren't talking about harmless tricks like qiankun buttons. SQH insinuates in canon that SJ wouldn't be above shanking LQG with a poisoned knife in the middle of a sparring (Airplane extra, when he watches LQG spar with SY!SQQ), and Ji Jue, someone who's fought SJ personally, seems to agree.

LQG did not condemn SJ's womanizing and/or his visits to the brothel. The only times when LQG comments on SQQ's private life in canon have to do with LBH and bingqiu. To put it simply: LQG did not give a damn about SJ allegedly spending time with sex workers. Nor did LQG constantly stalk SJ to try and catch him in a brothel. Nor did LQG ever lecture SJ about sex being bad for his cultivation (that was YQY, but no one ever remembers this bit).

Actually, it can be inferred that most of the time liujiu tried to ignore each other when forced to be in each other's presence. They only interact when they cannot avoid it/when SJ does (or seems to do) something so shitty LQG cannot ignore it. Or when SJ deliberately attracts LQG's attention.

Conversely, LQG did not constantly pursue SJ demanding a sparring with him. Not ever. I have no idea where this particular fanon stems from.

LQG did not gossip about SJ's private life. It is never mentioned in the book; however, it is said that several Baizhan disciples knew of SJ visiting a pleasure house. Any of them could've spread the rumour; or hell, it could've been someone else who saw SJ entering the place at a later date. Or the brothel workers may have shared the story with their other clients. It's never clearly stated, but there's no reason to believe LQG specifically was the one responsible for spreading this rumour. For one, YQY promises SJ that LQG would keep quiet about their skirmish. Also, it just isn't in character for LQG to gossip.

Just... every time people write liujiu, they go out of their way to completely erase SJ's shitty behavior, blaming all of the bad blood between them on LQG "misunderstanding" the poor innocent SJ. Oh, if only LQG knew the truth, he'd immediately recognise the error of his ways!.. Except no, actually, it's not how it is at all. And I'm so tired of the people constantly mistaking fanons for canon.

[skyward-floored]

Swapped

Part one of the Incredibles au power swap fic lets gooooo

I don’t know how many parts this is going to be total, maybe four..? I tried to keep it short, but that... didn’t work, heh. This is set after movie stuff at some point, don’t know exactly when, not too long... but supers are legal at least.

But anyway, enjoy part one!

Part two

————————————————————

Wind woke up slowly, his ears ringing in his skull.

A dull pulse of pain rippled through his middle, and he winced, putting a hand on his chest and rubbing it as he tried to think through what had happened. He remembered a voice talking, and something about intruders being free test subjects...

Oh. Right.

And a big explosion that had sent them all flying.

Ow...

Wind rubbed his eyes, wincing. He supposed a weird explosion shouldn’t be that surprising, since they were trying to break into a crazy-secure science lab. They’d gotten some information on all sorts of illegal experiments going on here, with supers allegedly involved, and they’d all suited up and stormed the place.

Nobody had realized they were expected.

Wind sighed, and sat up with another wince, grateful his supersuit was so sturdy. If he’d been in his civilian clothes, he’d probably be a smear on the wall right now. Or at least dealing with some broken ribs instead of just the weird soreness he had.

He shook his head, trying to disperse the ringing in his ears, and looked around, wondering why it was so quiet. Something about the air seemed weird, like something was missing from it.

A frown settled on Wind’s face and he reached for some wind, trying to listen and see if there was anything moving nearby. Then he froze.

He couldn’t do it.

Wind thrust his hand out, twirling it in the motion he always used when he directed the winds, but nothing happened, no matter how he moved his hands, no matter how hard he tried.

Something was wrong with his powers.

Wind breathed in shakily, and looked down at his hands, trying not to get swamped with panic. He was fine, he was fine except for the aches and lack of powers, he was fine. He probably just... needed to recover a little more from being unconscious. Yeah.

That had to be it.

Wind swallowed and looked around, suddenly zeroing in on Legend lying nearby. He wasn’t moving, and Wind shakily got to his feet, stumbling over and crouching at his side.

“Legend?” Wind asked, and gave his brother a light shake.

Legend didn’t move, not one inch, and the sight of his brother so still made something lurch in Wind’s stomach.

He paused in trying to wake him, and turned his attention to the rest of the room. He’d been separated from the others in the explosion, and the only other person besides Legend and himself in the hallway was Warriors. And Warriors looked like he was beginning to stir, a groan coming from his direction.

Wind stood up again, the absence of his wind all the more noticeable when he tried to draw on it for assistance. He swallowed and kept going, and knelt by Warriors’ side as his eyes flickered open.

“Warriors?” he asked in a shaky voice, and his uncle groaned, pressing his hands to his ears.

“Not so loud...” he bit out in a whisper, face screwed up in a wince. “...why is it so loud?”

“...I’m the only one making any noise,” Wind said in confusion, and when Warriors winced, he switched to a whisper as well. “...Sorry. It’s not loud at all Warriors, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t... know?” Warriors bit out, trying to sit up. “Ugh... I feel like I got hit by a truck...”

“Did you hit your head?” Wind asked anxiously, and Warriors slowly shook it, still wincing.

“No... everything is just... loud.”

Wind waited a moment for him to wake up a little more, and Warriors breathed out, slowly sitting up. Pain still showed in the way his face was creased though, and Wind felt the bubble of anxiety in his chest get a little bigger.

“That was a weird thing they hit us with... are you sure you’re okay?” Wind said as he helped Warriors sit up, glancing worriedly at the rubble separating them from the others.

“Yeah...” Warriors mumbled. “You okay, Wind?”

Wind swallowed.

“I... I don’t know,” he said honestly, wishing his voice wouldn’t shake. “I only woke up a bit ago. I found Legend too, he’s still unconscious, but Wars there’s— there’s something wrong with my powers.”

“What?”

Wind bit his lip. “I can’t get them to work. Ever since I woke up I haven’t been able to feel any wind or anything, there’s something wrong.”

Warriors’ face creased in concern, but then he paused, and held out his hand with his palm outstretched.

Nothing.

He tried again, a little more frantically, but still nothing happened, and he exhaled, looking down at his hands.

“Looks like mine are on the fritz too,” he said worriedly, then gave Wind’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll... we’ll figure this out. There’s probably something blocking them, I’ve seen this before. We just need to find the device.”

“You’re sure?” Wind said shakily, and Warriors nodded, giving his hair a quick ruffle.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine, kiddo.”

Wind gave him a small smile, then decided to check on Legend again since he still hadn’t moved. His brother’s face was still pale and blank, and while he didn’t look injured, Wind knew stuff could be hurt on the inside where they couldn’t see it.

Warriors joined him a few moments later, still wincing, and got to a knee beside Legend. He began looking him over, brushing dusty bangs from his face, and Wind watched in silence from beside him.

“Warriors, what do we do now?” Wind asked quietly, and his uncle hesitated, flinching when a sound rang out in the distance.

“I... don’t know just yet. Let’s recuperate for a bit, see if we can wake Legend up. Maybe try and contact the others. Then... I guess keep going. Somebody has to stop this scientist guy.

“And that somebody is us.”

“Right-o,” Warriors smiled. Then he stiffened, ears pricking as he looked down the hallway. “Someone’s coming.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Wind said in confusion, and Warriors shook his head, gathering Legend up into his arms.

“I can, there’s someone coming, trust me. We need to—”

Footsteps clattered towards them, and Warriors flinched, quickly tugging Wind and Legend behind a piece of rubble. A handful of guards came around the corner, and Wind crouched down further, watching them nervously.

Normally four guards would be nothing, but without powers and Warriors in a questionable state... Wind wasn’t sure they could handle them.

“Wars?” he whispered, and Warriors put a finger to his lips.

The guards drew nearer, spreading out and looking around the rubble. One came closer and closer to where Warriors and Wind were, and suddenly looked behind the rubble, spotting them.

“Hey!”

He grabbed for his gun, and Warriors shoved Wind behind him, launching himself at the guard with a snarl. The man shouted as he fell backwards, and despite the pain on Warriors’ face, he managed to wrestle the gun away from him.

The other guards heard him though, and Wind’s stomach lurched as they surrounded Warriors, unsure if he should go help or stay where he was and defend Legend. Warriors was hurting, but Legend wasn’t even awake, what was he supposed to do?

Two guards split off and went for Wind, and he yelped in panic, backing up so he could better protect Legend. The guards both reached in the nook Wind and Legend were tucked in, trying to grab them, but Wind avoided their hands and kicked at their arms.

Warriors was still struggling with the other two guards, but when he heard Wind’s yelp, his head shot up, eyes going wide when he saw one of them pull out a gun.

“Get away from them!” he shouted, eyes glowing, and was suddenly doused in shadows.

A familiar noise hummed through the air, and Wind and the guards stared in shock as the shadows dispersed, leaving a grayish-blue and white wolf on the ground where Warriors had been.

The wolf looked utterly shellshocked, and Wind felt much the same as he stared at it.

What.

Wind suddenly realized the guards were all distracted by the abrupt appearance of a wolf, and he shoved his shock to the back of his mind. He pushed the two that were trying to grab him, knocking them both over, then darted out and grabbed a piece of metal that had fallen on the ground.

He slammed it into one of the guard’s heads, sending him to the floor, but by then the others had snapped out of their daze.

But Warriors had too, and it didn’t take long for him and Wind to take out the other three guards. All four lay unconscious in short order, and Wind panted heavily as he wiped his face.

Then he stared back at the wolf, who was staring at his paws with his ears back.

“Um... what?” Wind spluttered, disbelief coming back. “Warriors that— how?”

The Warriors-wolf whined, his eyes wide, and he paced around in an anxious circle, nose twitching and ears flicking.

“How did you do that?!” Wind repeated, and Warriors flinched at his raised voice, ears folding back again. “...sorry. But why do you have Twilight’s powers?!”

Warriors repeated his whine, tail between his legs, and suddenly the shadows whirled around him again, blocking him from view. When they dispersed, Warriors was back to normal, sitting on the ground and looking somewhat nauseous.

“...Warriors?” Wind asked, and Warriors slowly sank down and laid on his back, then put a hand over his eyes.

“Gimme a sec,” he croaked.

Wind went quiet, and for a minute the only sound in the room was Warriors’ somewhat-shaky breathing.

While his uncle got a hold of himself, Wind gently tugged Legend out from the hiding spot, setting his head in his lap as he sat down. He ran a hand over Legend’s hair while he watched Warriors, and finally his uncle exhaled, and took the hand off his eyes.

“I think I know what the problem with our powers is,” he murmured. “Somehow... they switched.”

“But how?” Wind said as he stared at his uncle, and Warriors sighed, slowly sitting up and setting his hands over his ears again.

“I don’t know. But... I think it has to do with that weird energy pulse. I’d guess somehow it switched our powers.”

Wind stared at him in shock, and Warriors grimaced as something made a sound in the distance.

“How... is that even possible?”

“I have no earthly clue.”

Wind petted Legend on the head again, trying to wrap his brain around the idea of powers somehow swapping. Their powers were a literal part of them, how could anything switch them around?

“So... so you somehow have Twilight’s powers,” Wind said, and Warriors nodded. “Does that mean Twilight has yours?”

“I don’t know. But based on the whole wolf thing and the fact that I can hear so much as a pin drop, I definitely switched with Twilight,” Warriors said, then winced again. “Eugh. How does he deal with being able to smell everything? Or hear people breathing?”

Wind shrugged. “So... what was it like being a wolf?” he asked curiously.

“...Weird. We should get moving before the guards wake up,” Warriors said, dodging the question, and Wind sighed and nodded. Obviously Warriors didn’t want to talk about it.

...he’d get it out of him eventually though.

Wind looked down at his hands as Warriors moved to pick up Legend, flexing his fingers, and wondered suddenly if the same thing had happened to him.

Had he just gotten his powers blocked, or had he switched with somebody too? Was that why he couldn’t feel his winds?

Wind focused on himself for a second, trying to remember back to when he was smaller, and accessing his powers was more difficult. Normally there was a sense of the winds around him that he drew on, a thrum in his heart that moved in time with them, and he could usually draw on it with little to no effort.

That feeling wasn’t there anymore, but as Wind focused, he realized there was a different thrum inside of him now, one that felt blindingly strong.

Wind cautiously drew on it, but it was like turning on a firehose, and a flood of whatever power he had now came rushing at him, startling a yelp from his throat.

Warriors called his name, but Wind barely heard him, focused on the power rushing through his middle, spreading to his limbs and stretching out along his face. It was nearly overwhelming, but Wind held on against it, gritting his teeth as power buzzed all over throughout his skin.

The rush ebbed finally, enough that Wind could open his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was that the floor seemed a lot further away then it had before.

Also Warriors staring at him in shock.

“What?” Wind asked, then startled at the way his voice echoed.

“You... you also swapped,” Warriors said in a somewhat strangled voice.

Wind blinked, then looked at his hands, feeling the current of power run through him, feeling so powerful that he could probably punch his way through the walls if he had to.

Which meant...

“I got Dad’s, didn’t I?” Wind said.

Warriors sat back down.

“...Yep.”

[livefastdriveyoung]

This is Madness

Lewis Hamilton to Ferrari is huge. Few things;

First, poor Carlos, having to announce his own departure is brutal.

Second, if Toto really only did find out yesterday, why? Was Lewis afraid he would change his mind? Guilt? Is the W15 a disaster?

Third, Ferrari was the only other option. There was very little chance he would wind up at Redbull. Max is first driver, Christian Horner has admitted to not seeing a future with him.

Fourth, BONO?! He signed an extension contract. So the question is does he have an out clause as well? Will Lewis buy him out? Can he? Will Bono even choose Lewis?

Fifth, Team Loyalty is a big deal in modern F1, but that's the key, it's modern. F1 drivers used to change teams more frequently. We've seen it even now. Alonso has been on six teams total, with separate stints at different times for Renault and McLaren. Kimi drove for five teams. Seb drove for five teams. Checo, five, and so on. Hamilton's stint with Mercedes is unprecedented. 17 years total. Not something to scoff at, but unprecedented. It shouldn't be treated as some ultimate betrayal. He was the exception to the rule.

Sixth, I think Lewis implicitly trusts Fred Vasseur. Do I? No. Do I think that the rumors going around about poaching Red Bull staff and the fact that we don't know about Bono or Andrew could mean that Lewis's side of the garage is stacked exactly how he wants it.

Seventh, Charles is not going to be second driver, not really. Yes, you don't bring a driver like Lewis in to make him second fiddle, but I think that the hope is that Charles will learn what he's been missing, and I love Charles but there are definitely moments that demonstrated room for growth. Lewis has always talked about how much the sport has changed, and even though it is his complaints that make headlines, his positive enforcement of some of these changes is a good attitude to bring. Charles is the 'Il Predestinato' they just want to make sure that he's the best version of it they can get.

Eighth, The Mercedes garage is going to spin this season. Their PR team is going to work like never before. They're going to spin the narrative to George, they're going to isolate Lewis. He can't be in the future development meetings anymore, he's the competition. His colleagues of a decade can no longer trust him and that is sure to be lonely. They're not going to let that be the story. I think we might even be seeing some of it already. The question as to whether or not Toto knew in advance, coming out against the fact that allegedly Sainz and LeClerc have known for at least a couple weeks, is interesting and I'm intrigued at the level of truth.

Ninth, Whether you like Lewis or not, there were moments last season that the team shafted him. Prioritizing his teammate when he was in a better position, abandoning him on podium, etc. Lewis was so supportive of Susie and Toto, George didn't even bother to do anything other than repost the official statement. Lewis was Jack's hero, now all of a sudden, George is the one on vacations, and teaching him carting. The relationship has been slowly fracturing since Abu Dhabi 2021. Whether or not Lewis leaves on a good note at the end of the season will depend on if Mercedes will even give him the time of day. This could very well be Daniel Ricciardo at McLaren.

Finally, I don't think Lewis Hamilton has ever been the type to pull the rug out from someone without cause. He's always been a huge target in the F1 community and I think he's been ready for a change for a while. It's hard to make a change, especially when you're leaving something that once treated you so well. If it is true that he gave Mercedes no proper warning then hopefully he apologizes and explains. We're not entitled to know, but they are.

[reputationmunson]

Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part three | part 4

series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: a day at the lake with the Harringtons followed by a night out

content: steve and reader arguing (what’s new), drinking, swearing, these two idiots being in love, she/her pronouns, use of y/n

word count: 3.3k

_

You wake up with a wine-induced headache and you look over to see the spot next to you empty.

Yeah, you and Steve kissed last night, but so what? It didn’t mean anything. It was simply all part of the plan to be a more convincing couple. It would be weird if you guys didn’t share a quick peck every now and then if you were so ‘in love’ like you claimed to be, right?

You quickly shake it off and leave the bedroom to find out where Steve went. You’re half expecting to find a note that says ‘hey that kiss made me wanna flee the country. see you never’

Instead, you see Steve sitting on the front porch in one of the rocking chairs, taking in the scenery.

“Good morning” you say and sit down in the chair next to him. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a nod instead. You refuse to let it be awkward. The weekend has only begun and there’s no way you’re going to let a dumb kiss that meant absolutely nothing make everything weirder than it already is.

“Remember when we kissed last?” you try to lighten the mood. “Do we really have to talk about that? It’s been bugging me all morning”

“Oh, so you’ve been thinking about me all morning, huh?” you tease and he lets out an irritated sigh “do you not know how to be serious about anything?”

“What's there to be serious about? We kissed, for scientific reasons I might add, and it doesn’t have to be weird.” you shrug like it’s no big deal. Except it is a big deal, to Steve, at least. The kiss wasn’t terrible, he might’ve even liked it and he doesn’t want to be dramatic, but that might be the worst thing that’s ever happened. “It is weird though, isn't it?”

“Why? because you liked it?” you ask, expecting him to immediately deny it, but he doesn’t. “Steve? you liked it, didn’t you?” you boast. “No! no, I didn't like it. It was just really stupid and I think it’s insane that you don’t regret it”

“Oh my god, Steve. It was a kiss! You didn’t even hesitate, you practically jumped at the opportunity! then, you initiated the second one!” you proclaim. “Jumped? You were the one making that face!” he argues and you scoff “Face? What face? I was not making a face!” you insist and his eyes roll. “Oh, you so were. You were all like ‘Steve, please kiss me! I’ll even pout my lips and bat my eyelashes at you’” he attempts to make the look that you were allegedly making last night.

“Are you admitting that you think I’m irresistible?” you smirk at him and the triumphant look on his face immediately disappears. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” he says, avoiding an answer to your question. “Yeah, okay, but you still think I’m irresistible” you chaff and he stands up. “You’re about as irresistible as a bed of nails that got set on fire. Now, if you’re done arguing with me, we gotta get ready”

“Ready for what?” you question “There’s a private beach around here and my family wants to go in about an hour” he tells you as you follow him inside. “An hour?! Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” you chastise. “Because you were too busy drooling on your pillow this morning and no, you don’t have time to yell at me because you’re gonna need all the time you can get to look decent before we leave”

_

Apart from the human embodiment of stepping on a piece of gum in a new pair of shoes that is Steve Harrington, today was a lovely day. The sun was shining and there was a cool breeze that balanced perfectly with the weather, making the heat more bearable. The beach was nice, too. It was secluded and Steve’s family were the only people here. Now, if only you could find a way to leave Steve stranded that would make this day even better.

“You finally made it! We were starting to worry!” Steve’s mom, Joanne, greets you. “Sorry about that, Steve forgot to tell me about it last night so I got a late start getting ready” you explain.

“That’s Steve for you. Communication and time-management skills shouldn’t go on his resume if he ever decides to get a real job” His dad chimes in and you can’t help but feel a little bad. “Oh, no, he’s usually always great when it comes to that. We just all have our off days” you defend him and Steve gives you a slight smile as a way to thank you.

“Exactly, George, give Steve a break. I know it’s a little early, but I brought some wine if you’d like some, y/n. It is a vacation after all.” Steve’s mom seems to drink a lot of wine, but if you were married to someone as condescending as George, you would too. “I’d love a glass, thank you”

You sit with Joanne on a blanket while Steve goes over to join his cousins. She pours you a hefty glass of wine and you decide she’s your favorite Harrington.

“How are you two enjoying the house? I know it’s a little small, but we wanted you to be close to us” Their definition of ‘small’ is much different than yours. “It’s perfect, thank you, again. Steve and I had our coffee this morning while admiring the view” okay, you didn’t have coffee, you had a little disagreement, but you were still admiring the view.

“Steve seems absolutely smitten with you. I know I have my faults as a mother, but I still have my instincts and they tell me that maybe in a few years we’ll have another wedding to put on our calendars”

“Oh, I um-”

Before you can get a response out, Steve comes out of nowhere and you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful for his presence. “We've been challenged to a game of chicken. best two outta three, you in?”

“hm, I don’t know. Do you have to be my partner? I would like to win” you tease. “yes, because it’s couple versus couple and you know you can’t win without me. c’mon” he offers his hand to help pull you up off the ground.

When you pull off your bathing suit cover up, Steve knows he should look away. He shouldn’t care that the one-piece you’re wearing in the god awful shade of your signature color, hugs your body perfectly. His eyes definitely shouldn’t briefly flick down to your ass when you bend over to set the coverup on the blanket, but they do.

“Ready?” you ask, pulling him out of whatever weird trance he was just in. “y-yeah. let’s go”

“What did my mom say? you looked a little freaked out back there” he asks once she’s out of earshot. “something about you being just so head over heels for me and how we’re going to be married in a few years” you let out a sigh like it’s something to brush over. “Don’t listen to her, she’s drinking too much wine. Something you guys seem to have in common”

“how else am i supposed to cope with being your lover”

“gross. don’t say that” he whines and you laugh at him as you always do.

“this water is freezing!” you squeal as the water comes to the shore. “hm, really? how freezing?” he asks with a tone that sounds like he has a plan. “that’s a dumb q-” before you can finish your insult, Steve lunges at you and his arms wrap around your waist and he drags you deeper into the water.

“Steve! let me go!” you screech. “if you insist” he replies before dunking you into the water. You get a hold of him and pull him down with you. There’s no way you were going down without a fight.

You both emerge from the cold water, laughing and neither of you have a look of anger on your faces. Which is strange because usually just the sound of each breathing is enough to set either of you off, but you rarely ever see him have fun. It’s kind of nice to see him let loose even if that means being submerged in frigid water.

“If you lovebirds are done, we’re ready to take you down now” his cousin shouts and you both quickly retrieve your touch from one another. “you think you’re gonna be alright with my legs on your shoulders?” you ask him, not meaning for it to intend to sound as dirty as it came out and his cheeks turn pink. “my god, Steve, stop being a perv and squat down. We are not losing this game”

Steve crouches down so you can sit on top of his shoulders. He hands grip your thighs to steady you and you thread your fingers through his hair to keep your balance. He notices that your thighs are soft and smooth. It’s probably from the lotion that you constantly put on ‘cause you smell nice too. He hopes this game is over as soon as possible.

As the ‘battle’ starts, his grip on your thighs tighten, but you don’t have time to focus on the way it’s making you feel when you’re worried about trying to take down the other team.

You win surprisingly fast. Steve was expecting an immediate takedown that resulted in your flying off of his shoulders. Actually, it was more like hoping than expecting. You’re unexpectedly competitive. Steve figured since you’re so sweet and shy (other people’s words, definitely not Steve’s), that you’d go done in a split second, but you stuck to your guns. He’s decently impressed.

“I’m gonna take a walk to dry off. do you wanna join me?” he asks once you’re out of the water. “yeah that sounds nice”

As you walk, your arm wraps around his and he accepts it without question. “I’m gonna say something but don’t let it swell your ego any more than it already is” he starts and you refrain from a sarcastic comment. “I'm having fun with you today and I guess it’s not totally awful that you’re here”

“Should we get you to a hospital? I think there’s a blood-sucking leech in your brain”

“yeah, i think so too” he looks over at you and sees you're already looking at him. The sunshine really does something to his eyes and makes the freckles on his face more noticeable, you could almost connect them like a constellation. Maybe there’s a blood-sucking leech in your brain too.

“I'm having a good time too. Ya know, despite having to constantly be around you” you joke and he chuckles. “well lucky for you, the guys and I are going out to some bar so you’ll have the place to yourself for a while”

“thank god. i’m going to need some time to recover from being nice to you”

“you and me both, y/n. you and me both”

_

With Steve being gone, you had planned a relaxing evening. There was a little general store not far from the house and you’d gotten all the necessities; snacks, a face mask, and some stuff for a bubble bath. You’re about to start a bath when you hear a knock at the door and you pray that Steve isn’t back already.

“Hi!” One of the Harrington wives, Mary, greets you when you open the door. “Hi! Steve isn’t here-”

“Oh, I know. I’m here for you! Are you still getting ready?” She asks when she notices your robe and face mask. “Getting ready for what?” you question. “We’re meeting the guys at the bar! Didn’t Steve tell you?”

“Y-yeah, he did. I just thought it was a pity invite” you lie. “I don’t really have anything to wear for a night out”

“Honey, let me tell you something that I wish someone told me when I first joined this family; never travel without your favorite little black dress when you take a trip with the Harringtons. Especially us young ones. Those boys always go out”

“I don’t have a little black dress. '' You mumble, a little embarrassed. “Lucky for you, I always bring an extra. Here, try it on!” she hands you a dress from her bag along with a pair of black heels to match. Steve is definitely going to make fun of you for this.

You were expecting to feel out of place in this dress, but honestly, you look hot. The dress is a spaghetti strap with a simple square neckline and it’s shorter than what your choice might’ve been, but it’s stunning.

“Oh my gosh, you look incredible! Steve won’t be able to keep his hands off you” she squeals.“I don’t know about that…” you mutter. “Please. I see the way he looks at you and once he sees you in this dress he’s going to lose it”

People keep talking about the way Steve ‘looks’ at you and you’re starting to think they’re just saying it to say it. How can they confuse his looks of dislike and revulsion with love? No wonder Steve thinks his family is crazy

“Alright, I brought us some drinks and they aren’t going to drink themselves. Let’s get to it!”

_

“Hi, boys. Miss us?” Mary announces once you all approach the half-circle booth the boys are sat at. Steve does a double take when he sees you. Not only was he not expecting to see you here, he definitely wasn’t expecting to see you in that dress.

“Hi, Stevie” you say in a sing-song voice. There’s no denying you’re already a little tispy. Your eyes are glassy and you have a loopy grin on your face. “Hi, babe. I thought you were staying in tonight?”

“I was going too but I just missed you. I hope it’s okay I’m here”

“Oh, it’s fine” One of the men interjects. “Steve’s been talking about you all night”

“I have not. They’ve been asking about you and I’ve been answering questions” he explains. “And what have you been saying, Stevie?” you wonder. “He was just telling us-”

“Alright, that’s enough. How about you grab a chair and sit down, yeah?” You look around to try and find an empty chair but with the bar being crowded, there aren’t any available. “Just sit on Steve’s lap! None of us are prudes, clearly” Mary says and you look at Steve with hesitance. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just hop on” hop on? he repeats in his head. He can’t believe he just said that.

You sit on his lap like it’s something you’ve done a million times before. Your arm wraps around his shoulders while his arm wraps around your waist. Once you’re seated comfortably, his hand comes to rest on your thigh, a little too close for comfort. Your breath hitches slightly and you hope Steve didn’t notice. He did notice, and he’s planning on using this against you later.

Steve can’t focus on any of the conversations happening because the only thing on his mind is the fact that he doesn’t entirely hate your closeness. He blames it on the alcohol coursing through his veins. You look rather pretty tonight and you smell so good that it’s more intoxicating than the drink in his glass.

He absentmindedly begins to rub your thigh and you let out a small gasp, causing him to smirk. “Sorry. Just keeping up appearances” he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s fine” you whisper back.

Except, it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t that his touch was making you uncomfortable, it was the complete opposite and that was the problem. You felt yourself melting into his touch and craving it every time his hand left your thigh so he could take a sip of his drink.

You feel like you should regret not staying back at the house, but you don’t. Not even a little bit.

_

“You have to turn the key to the right, Steeevvvee” you drunkenly whine as Steve tries to unlock the front door. “I am turning it to the right” he whines back, mocking your tone. “That’s the left” you point out. “You try it then” he challenges. “Watch and learn, pretty boy”

The key doesn’t budge. You turn it left, you turn it right and nothin’. “Watch and learn. I’m soooo much smarter than Steve” he mimics you as you drop the key on the porch. “It’s broken! What’re we gonna do?” you pout, standing close enough that your chest is flush with his. “Follow me”

You follow Steve to a window that’s slightly open a little higher up than other windows. “I can’t climb through that window in a dress!” you exclaim. “Well, you can’t lift me, so up ya go”

“That is so sexist”

“I know, I’m the worst, blah blah blah. C’mon, let’go” Steve hooks his hands together for you to use as a step. You grip his shoulders and once you're balanced, you’re able to grab the window frame. “I need more of a boost” you tell him. “This is all the boost I got”

“Then throw me!”

“Are you insane? I’m not gonna throw you!”

“We’ll sleep outside, then”

“I have an idea, but don’t punch me! I’m gonna have to touch your butt” he giggles like a four-year-old when he says ‘butt’, making you giggle too. “Lucky you, then. Try not to bust in your pants, okay”

“You sure are confident when you’re drunk. Okay, on three” Steve counts to three and pushes you as much as he can until you’re able to pull yourself through the window. “I’m in!”

“Yeah, I see that. Go unlock the door” he says and you shake your head. “Oh, no no no. If I had to do this, so do you. It’s fun!”

“Why do you have to make everything difficult?”

“Scared you can’t do it?” you taunt. “What was that you said earlier? Watch and learn?”

Steve starts to climb the house and you can’t help but laugh at how many times he slips. Once he’s almost made it, you grab his hand and pull him into the house causing him to topple you to the ground and throwing you both into a fit of giggles.

“Alright, I admit that was fun” he says, a bit breathless. “I know. I’m full of great ideas”

You both stand up and flop onto the bed. “I’m ready to go to sleeo” Steve says with a yawn and closes his eyes. “Noooo, you can’t sleep in those clothes. That’s so uncomfy”

“I can’t move” he grumbles. You move to stand at the foot of the bed and reach your arms out to him. “Get up. Just grab my hands” he lazily grabs your hands and you let out a groan as you pull him up. “Hey, I’m not that heavy” he laughs. “If you say so”

Neither of you have moved from where you’re standing. Your hands are still holding his and his face is close to yours that you could count his eyelashes. “You look really pretty tonight” he whispers like he’s afraid you’ll hear him. “You don’t have to say that. No one’s around”

“And if I said I wanted to kiss you… what would you say to that?” his hand comes up to cradle your cheek and you lean into his touch.

“I’d say it’s a bad idea” you slightly lean in “I know” he leans in closer.

“We hate each other”

“We do”

“And we really shouldn’t kiss ‘cause I don’t think I’ll be able to stop”

“Okay” His nose brushes yours, but his lips press against your cheek instead. This is the one time you wish he wouldn’t listen to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to stop either” Steve confesses before going to get changed in the bathroom, leaving you to feel more confused than you’ve ever felt.

Fuck.

_

taglist: @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus @freezaz123 @whisperingwillowxox @buckysmetalhand @clincallyonline17 @x-theolivia @realsuper-dark @eddiesguitarskills @megxplryxb @alicetweven @calmoistorm @impossibelle @k-k0129

(for some reason there were a few blogs that i wasn’t able to tag:( i apologize!)

[yuri-is-online]

Reading the Room at a 5th Grade Level: MC's Curse and Taiga's Memory Issues???

Hi. My name is Yuri and I am an idiot. You see, when I downloaded Tokyo Debunker and I saw what happened to the MC I was confused. "Why did everything go red?" I asked myself. "It's like we were in another dimension!" I unhelpfully said at some point probably. Well I finally googled the name of the station the MC said "was not her usual stop" and guess what? I should have done that way fucking sooner because it's related to a Japanese urban legend, much like Takeru in Episode 2. And helps me with what I noticed yesterday while I was re-reading the Hotarubi episode.

This post contains spoilers for Hotarubi's Episode, viewer discretion is advised.

When the MC is contacted by the spirit who allegedly curses her she is riding the train home from a concert. She receives a text message from someone with a spider lily profile picture, in English their user name is "Mina." Before we are confronted by Mina, the conductor announces that the train's next stop is Kisaragi Station, a station that dear reader, does not exist. It's also extremely famous! But I am not smart or up to date on horror things so I didn't know (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄) so sorry if this is all stuff you guys already knew.

Kisaragi Station

The original post about Kisaragi station was, as best I can tell, made on a site called 2chan, which is a Japanese anonymous forum. I was able to find a post about it on r/nosleep from 2019 which claims that people started posting about it on reddit in 2010, and another post on Quora translating a thread that was posted to twitter. There are a few common themes to the urban legend, but there are three I find particularly relevant to our situation.

The station is believed to be on the border of our world and the "other world." It is possible to leave the station, we will get into how in a moment, but attempting to leave it by following the train tracks will get you killed. Especially if you attempt to cross through the train tunnel, that will take you across the point of no return. The original post describes hearing the sound of drums and bells, similar to a Japanese festival, that get louder the closer you get to the tunnel. Accepting rides from people in the vicinity of the station will also kill you. Cell service is active in the area, but you aren't able to find location information and people will not be able to find you. The anomaly on the train we see isn't tied to Kisaragi Station as far as I can tell, and I have been combing through various yokai to see if I can find anything like it but so far I haven't had much luck.

Back to how to leave the station, you have to light something on fire. Specifically something that causes smoke. Paper seems to be the most common suggestion. It's a small detail, but since the game starts with us seeing the school on fire I thought it was an interesting thing to note.

I added Taiga into the title of the post as in the translated twitter thread, the concept of memory loss the longer you stay in Kisaragi is brought up. We never actually see Taiga leave the station, and the MC only leaves it because Haku does something with his artifact. In Episode 5 Haku says he was not using his stigma to put the children's spirits to rest, implying that spiritual energy adn stigmas are different powers he can use. I am going to propose something kind of crazy at the end of this entire post about Haku, but for now just dealing with the facts presented in game he specifically says he "cordoned off" the area. Does he mean that he took the train to Kisaragi station? Or was MC always going there? And if he was the one responsible for doing that then uh. How did Taiga leave the station and get back to Darkwick? Was he trapped there and did he wander around for a long time, doing permanent damage to his memory in the process? Or am I over thinking this and he lost track of the anomaly and lit something on fire so he could leave. I like the idea of him lighting the station on fire and the ghosts asking him to leave, but that's probably not what happened lol

Red

When the train reaches Kisaragi Station in game, the color pallet swaps to red. Much like it does in Episode 5 when MC receives a certain visitor:

We learn later on that this is Zenji, and that Zenji is dead. MC seems to be reacting to his presence and I would like to think that the color choice is deliberate. If we go back to Episode 2, Takeru only has light amounts of red shading around him in his comic panels, when he kills the streamer and when Alan beats the shit out of him are two that immediately come to mind. Interacting with him does not turn the world red like interacting with Zenji or Kisaragi Station does, further strengthening Leo's conclusion about him being a Talupa and not a ghost as this red tint seems to be used for when MC is interacting with the spirit world. Which I am once again asking, how did Taiga get home from Kisaragi Station? Did he carjack a Taxi ghost?

This raises some questions about the anomaly that cursed MC. Is it a ghost and is it something unique to Japan? And if neither of those things are true then why was Haku there? I can think of two reasons for him to be there: the first is if he is there to keep an eye on Taiga for Cornelius/the Institute because Sinostra is on probation but they need him (he was specifically assigned this mission because of how aggressive he is) or it was meant to be a Hotarubi mission because it fit their criteria but Haku couldn't handle it so they arranged for Taiga to come along with him. That last thing is sort of countered by Haku saying that he doesn't think Hotarubi would be able to help with the MC's curse, but he could be lying about that I suppose.

Anyway who wants to hear my really stupid out there reason for why Haku is there-

The Part of the Show Where I do a line of coke Cope

So hear me out, what if Haku's stigma is time travel. So in this post on the subreddit donsaadali suggested that the powers you pick from in the personality test are powers the ring could give MC. I had the thought before that maybe it was a list of stigmas that the various characters had completely forgetting about the time travel line. But it does sort of fit with my line of thinking: make people follow my orders? That's Jin. Elemental powers? Towa. The others: extreme luck, never having to sleep, shapeshifting, and gravity control aren't ones that we have concrete information about but I am tempted to say that "extreme luck" could be Taiga, as turning things into ammo struck me as a quality of his artifact and not his stigma but I'm not really convinced of that. Anyway, if Haku can time travel, he could go back in time, pick up MC, and bring her back to Darkwick even if that's not what happened in the first place and Taiga was the one who brought her back the first time! But why he would do that is lost on me. Well not completely lost, I do think he wants to "help" her but with what and why is not something I have a theory on just yet.

To be clear, that was just me spitballing. I do not really think that Haku's stigma is time travel, there isn't enough evidence for me to think that. I do think that if there is a timeloop going on he is probably aware of it, but again. I don't know why.

Sources

Translated original post (x)

The above post also has a youtube video linked at the top if you want an audio version of the post and some other train related stories

Translated Twitter thread (x)

Shitty r/nosleep post (x)

[megamindsecretlair]

Cold on Me, Part 1

Pairing: David Kane x Atlantean!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Plot with smut, cursing, fingering (female receiving) , orgasm denial, dirty talk, Atlantean reader. Established relationship.

Summary: On a mission to recover an artifact sacred to your people, you journey through Rome to meet up with your contact. When he tries to take more than what's offered, none other than David Kane comes to your rescue. The man you hate. The man you would have done anything for. The man you can never trust again.

Word Count: 4,120k

Part 2

A/N: WHEW! If ya'll only knew the heart palpitations it took to get a proper David Kane fic going! I like the final product. Please let me know if you would like to opt out of David Kane fics! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @harmshake @ciaqui @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @papichulojustice

This was your last chance. 

The contact said to meet him at some rundown bar on the edge of town, just off the coast of Rome. You walked down the dimly lit, cobblestone street with your boots making soft sounds. The weather was frightfully cold, a bitter wind kissing your cheeks where the oversized jacket didn’t cover you.

Rome was a pretty city, if a little rundown. Like you could picture its former glory in the streets, the buildings, and the gargoyles casting down their eyes from the rooftops. At any moment, a sculptor could chip away at the history, grime, and graffiti and then a legionary would walk down the street once more in their scarlet guard uniforms.

It had been a long time since you visited Rome last. Too bad you didn’t have time to explore like you wanted. You finally got a lead on an ancient artifact belonging to your people. You bared your teeth, already getting worked up at the thought of these senseless humans playing with things they knew nothing about.

You had to remind yourself that they were still such children. With finite lives. Most were trying. Most were decent. But they made you so fucking weary every time you traveled to the surfact world. 

You looked up at the street name on the side of the building and turned down an even darker alleyway. You hoped that these people got the sense to install more lights in the alleys. This couldn’t be safe for anyone walking alone at night, holy city or no.

Rumbling laughter echoed down the alleyway as you approached the bar. You took off your gloves and headed inside, pushing past sneering looks and stale beer breath. You knew that you would stand out, but desperate times were pressing on you now. 

The contact, Dom, stated that he would be sitting in a booth. You walked further into the place, boots crunching on discarded cigarettes and…something you didn’t want to think about. The walls were covered in posters that looked baked into the deep red paint, peeling vinyl seats, scratched bartop, and neon signs behind the burly bartender who stood leaning a hip against the countertop talking to a patron. 

This was the type of place that no one looked too closely at one another. No one looked anyone in the eye too long unless they wanted to be punched in the throat. This was a bar where deals went down in whispered confidences, beer spilled over the rim of mugs, and whiskey shot back among rivals. It was a neutral bar. No fighting. Allegedly.

You bypassed rough looking men with leather jackets, tattoos, and bald heads. You passed rougher looking women with short hair, short sleeves, and even shorter attitudes. You pulled out your phone, glancing at the time.

You were on time, but where was Dom? You texted him, taking off your sling bag, and sliding into an available booth. The seat cracked under you, vinyl digging past your cargo pants. But you ignored it and slid in further. 

Dom stated that he would be there in five minutes, so you relaxed and took in your surroundings. You were drawing a lot of stares. From the complexion of your skin, to the audacity of your hair, you knew that you did not fit in with the olive-toned people native to this country. That was okay. 

Once you had the artifact, you could return it to its rightful place. That was all you wanted. All you longed for. 

A young waitress walked by with black lipstick and a half-shaved head. She popped gum in her mouth and asked what you wanted. You told her your favorite drink and she disappeared, leaving you to your own devices.

You were on edge. You knew you were because this was an important exchange but you couldn’t help feeling a sense of foreboding. That tonight, everything was going to change. You didn’t know how but you’d always had a sense about these things. 

You felt every tick of the clock on the far wall. Right when the waitress returned with your drink, a short white man with short dark hair slid into the booth in front of you. He huffed, settling into the seat as if he had been walking or jogging and now he finally had a chance to rest. 

“You have the time?” The man asked. 

“No one carries watches anymore,” you said, confirming that this guy was who he said he was. He smiled, getting more comfortable. 

“Do you have it?” You asked.

“Depends. Got my money?” He asked.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You were offended that you even had to go through all of this. But the goddess requested that this was an undercover mission. That you limit your exposure as much as possible. You ran your tongue over your teeth and smiled.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” you said. You didn’t want to seem too eager. Or too interested in the knife in his possession. He thought it was some stupid tribal knife, made of some “funny metal”. You downplayed its importance by emphasizing the metal, letting him know that it was valuable but not as valuable as he was thinking. You were a collector of ancient weaponry, nothing more. 

He could try to melt the thing or sell it somewhere else, but no one else had access to the priceless gems in your pocket. You’d make him richer than the sun itself if it meant that you got your hands on it before anyone else did. 

You drew a pouch out of your pocket, grabbing a diamond from within and placing it on the table. He snatched it up, cupping it in his hands and looking at it. He would need an actual piece of glass to determine the clarity, but he didn’t need it. The diamond was pure, uncut, and best of all, conflict free. 

Dom nodded, but you saw how big his eyes got looking at the diamond. His only language was greed. He fished around in his pocket before pulling the knife out, wrapped in a dark cloth. He untied it, revealing the weapon hilt first.

You fought like hell to school your expression. So that the hunger in his eyes didn’t reflect back in yours. It looked ordinary, carved with ancient symbols that didn’t mean anything to him but everything to you. It depicted a death ritual, once believed to be lost over time. As more and more humans encroached on the ocean, traveling further and deeper than ever before, they constantly ran across things that did not belong to them. Recovering those artifacts was your life’s mission. 

You reached out a hand to grab it, but his hand slammed on top of yours. “I want payment first,” he said. 

“How do I know this is the real thing?” You asked. It could be a replica. It could be sand that would crumble in your fingers. You’d be the laughing stock of all of Atlantis if you dared bring back a fake. 

Dom grinned, showing yellow, crooked teeth and you bit your tongue to keep from grimacing. “I wouldn’t do that to such a pretty girl such as yourself,” he said. His hand began to stroke yours and you snatched it back.

Dom laughed, grabbing your drink and downing it in one go. Let him have it. If this was the genuine article, you could return to the water where you belonged. 

“Once I confirm its authenticity, you’ll get the rest of your payment like we agreed. Not a shiny gem before it,” you said.

He clicked his teeth, eyeing you. But finally relented and moved his hand. You reached out and ran your hand over the knife, feeling the rhythm of the metal singing to you. It was real. It was true. 

You nodded, tossing him the packet of diamonds. He snatched it from the air like he couldn’t bear a second that it wasn’t in his possession. You stood up, ready to be done with the place. You tucked the knife into your backpack, zipped it up and threw it around your head, securing it to your body.

Dom grabbed you by the wrist. “What’s the rush, huh? We just made a deal. We should celebrate!” He yelled, loud enough to be heard over the booming rock music. You glanced around, nervous that he was drawing too much attention. 

He had glassy eyes and a too easy grin. He would be decent looking if he lost some of the puffiness, brushed his teeth, and took a shower or twelve. But you had absolutely no interest. You yanked your arm back, but he held on.

“I said sit. And tell me why this knife is so important. You outbid some very powerful people,” he said. He was no longer smiling. No longer joking. 

You balled your first, jerking your hand back. But he held on with a strength he shouldn’t possess. You were stronger than humans, capable of breaking their necks with a flick of a wrist. The goddess demanded that you work quietly however. So you were left to play human. 

“Remove your hand, now,” you said. 

“If people come after me over this, I will point them right to you,” he said.

“Is that a threat?” You asked. 

“Friendly heads up,” he said.

“Let the lady go,” a deep, soothing voice said behind you. You closed your eyes and cursed under your breath. He was the last person you expected to be here. But you should have known. If there was an artifact out there to steal, David Kane was the first on the scene to see how much he could sell it for. 

“I don’t need your help,” you tossed over your shoulder. You were always blown away by how tall he was. How he didn’t have to do anything to be intimidating. One scowl, one flex of his jaw, one roll of his shoulders and it was obvious that he was a man that no one wanted to fuck with.

Skin like bruised bronze, wide shoulders, and a chiseled face, David Kane was a walking red flag. He stepped closer to your back, bringing with him a wall of heat that brought up too many memories and none of them good. 

“You look like you’re doing real well without me,” he said. 

“I am, thanks for noticing,” you whispered. You turned back to the contact and looked down at his slimy hand on yours. Why the hell was it wet? Did you even want to know at this point? Maybe if he perspired enough, you’d be able to slip your hand out from his grasp.

“Who the hell is this? Your muscle?” The man snorted. “Your boyfriend?” 

“The lady told you to let her go. So do it,” David said. His voice made your thighs tingle. You took a deep breath. Years. It had been years and he still made you have a visceral reaction to him. Like you were back in Greece, back in his arms. 

You shook the thought from your head and stepped closer to Dom. He smiled, like you were choosing him over David. As if. You flipped your wrist, breaking his hold. You grabbed onto his middle finger, breaking it. Dom screamed and David pushed forward, holding his hand to the man’s mouth.

“Next time a woman tells you not to touch her, listen.” You walked away, throwing your hood back up on your head. You needed to get out of there, fast. You pushed through the entrance before anyone could mention that you broke the rules. You harmed someone while inside the bar. Never mind that Dom started it. You were the outlier. The outsider. You were the one that did not belong. 

They let you pass, faces twisted like they smelled something funky or stepped in gum. You ignored them. Quiet. Quiet. You were going for quiet. 

Out into the crisp night, you headed off down the cobblestone street, dipping down alleyway after alleyway hoping to fend off any type of pursuit. Your steps were the only sound in the quiet night. Like the city was sleeping despite the bars and eateries behind every bend, filled to the brim with locals and tourists trying the latest cuisine. 

The streets were so narrow here and though your bike could have made it through, you did not want to draw that much attention to yourself. You took the long way around, checking over your shoulder every so often. There was no way to track you in this place, no way to leave behind any mark that you existed. 

Still, you cast your eyes behind you, clouds of breath escaping you. Your lungs burned from the cold. Your cheeks stung from the bite. These shoes were killing you. You longed for the safety of the water. 

You stepped around a building, the same pinkish hue that all the buildings seemed to share. Sunbaked and centuries old. You caught your breath. You couldn’t live like this. You weren’t used to looking over your shoulder like this. 

You had to keep moving. You had to make sure that you made it to the nearest open body of water before David caught up with you. Why was he even here? What the hell did he want? 

Fuck him. Fuck him for still looking as good as he did. Sounding as good as he did. Whatever he did now was of no consequence to you. You took deep breaths in, letting the cold awaken your senses. Your mission was not yet over and you needed to keep moving.

Goddess protect me. 

You rounded the corner, back to civilization with its street lamps and passing cars. You were approaching the mouth of the alley when a hand pulled you back, deep within the shadows. You kicked out your leg. Despite his height and size, David was incredibly agile. 

He chuckled, pulling you close to his body. His warm, tall body. He wrapped his arms around you, but before he could lock you in, you broke his hold. You turned and punched and kicked at him, he laughed and dodged like this was a sparring game and not you fighting for your life.

You managed to land a solid punch, feeling great satisfaction from watching his head snap back. Your moment of triumph was short lived as he took the fight more seriously. But he was more focused on subduing you than fighting you.

“I deserved that, but you only get one,” he growled. 

He blocked your next two punches, grabbing both of your wrists and spinning you to face the building. He pushed you against it, yanking your arms behind you. You growled and wriggled, but there was no way to break out of this. Not when he pressed his chest into your back, pinning your further against the building. You were trapped. With your worst enemy. 

Wait till your team back home hears about this one. In fact…they didn’t need to know this part. You’d never told anyone about David, too afraid that your sisters would tease and mock you. The fish who fell in love with a bird. It was a joke. A cautionary tale. A tragedy. 

You stopped fighting. Your gasps created tiny clouds in the air. David huffed and heaved behind you, pressing his chest into your back with every inhale. “You gonna punch me again if I let you go?” He asked.

“Depends. Let me go and we’ll see,” you said.

He laughed, dropping his head to your ear. You hated that you shivered. You hoped he thought it was because of the cold and not because of his proximity. Bastard. Fuck him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said. 

“I was counting on that, actually.” Out of the seven seas and the seven continents, you did not think you’d bump into David Kane again. What were the odds? What sick, cruel fate brought you back into David’s war path? 

Didn’t matter. You needed to escape before he found the knife in your bag. 

“You didn’t miss me? Not even a little?” He nuzzled your ear and you bit your lip. What game was he playing? 

“Not even a little,” you said. Your voice was even. Your stomach was doing backflips. Fuck him. Fuck him. You repeated it like a mantra in your head, trying to hold on to the burning hatred in your veins. Your body betrayed you. Remembering every glide of his fingers. The shape of his lips. 

“Shame. I missed you,” he said. His lips tickled your ear and you moved your head away. Since his body covered every inch of you, there was no room for you to move. He dipped his head again, lightly brushing his lips along your neck.

“Fuck do you want from me, Kane?” You asked.

“Oh, it’s Kane again?” He asked. 

You rolled your neck. Getting angry only made him act more childish. He got off on seeing you squirm. You used to think it was charming. Now it was just annoying.

“What are you doing in Rome?” He asked.

“I could ask the same question,” you said.

“Following up on a lead. Heard there were some coins from Ancient Egypt on the market. Wanted to see if I could make a direct offer,” he said.

“By stealing it.” 

“If it came to that,” he said and huffed out a laugh. At least he was more open about his thievery. He was a man without honor and you had no patience for him. Not anymore. 

“What do you want?” You asked. 

David moved his hands, lower, searching your body. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Trying to see if you got any weapons on you. I just wanna talk without the fear of you shooting me,” he said. His search was anything but friendly. He groped. He kneaded. He gripped your thighs with his massive hands and squeezed. A small moan escaped you before you could call it back. 

“Do you remember Miami?” He asked. 

You pressed your lips together while he finished his search. When you stopped giving him the response he wanted, he moved his fingers below your shirt. His fingers grazed your tummy, dancing over the edge of your pants. You shivered. 

Your pussy ached. It was freezing cold outside, but he was doing a damn good job blocking out the chill and warming you up. You melted into him as he unbuttoned your pants. “I remember how you looked when we first woke up. Sun hitting your back. The way your hair sparkled like embers of a fire.” 

You sighed. You shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be entertaining this. “David…”

“You were the last thing I expected to find here tonight. But as soon as I recognized you, I couldn’t let you get away. I shouldn’t have let you go then and I can’t let you go now,” he said.

“You can’t hold onto me anymore,” you said. He once compared your relationship to holding water in the cup of his hand. He could hold it, for a second, believing that it would last. Then it would slip through his fingers. Water could not be contained, he told you. He told you a lot of things. A lot of useless shit. 

“Let me try, please,” he said. He unzipped your pants, pushing it lower off of your hips. You ground your ass into his crotch. His dick strained against his pants. He hissed, pulling back for a moment. 

“Say you don’t miss me and I’ll let you go,” he said.

“I don’t miss you,” you said. Your voice cracked. David’s long fingers played with the curls at the core of you. He bit your ear, dipping a finger into your wet heat and groaning as he made contact. 

“This pussy say otherwise,” he whispered in your ear. 

You were burning up inside your coat. Your head fell back against his chest, giving him better access to nibble and kiss on your neck. You opened your heavy eyelids and looked at him, bracketed by the stars above.

This would be hot at any other moment. You would have lived for stolen moments like this when you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other like a couple of young adults, fumbling and following after each other. Like you couldn’t quit each other. 

“You didn’t ask my pussy, you asked me.” 

“How long has it been? Have you been able to replace me yet?” He asked.

You huffed, refusing to allow him a full laugh. Fuck him. He knew fuck well that no one compared to him. No one compared to how he made you feel. You dropped your head forward. You couldn’t look at him and let him play with your body like no time had passed. If you didn’t look at him, you could pretend. 

“Yup. Sure did,” you said. The answer was sarcastic as hell. You didn’t care if his ego was inflated at the moment. It had been forever. And you needed the sweet fucking relief that didn’t come from your fingers for once. 

He swirled his fingers lazily through your essence, taking his time to make you tremble with need. 

“A lot has changed. I’ve changed. And I know you don’t forgive easily. But I need you to hear me,” he said. He pushed a finger inside and you groaned, not caring if he heard you now. You weren’t going to fall onto the sword of Pride like some martyr. You never denied yourself anything, least of all his deft fingers as he pumped them inside of you. 

Your thighs shook as you began to squirm. He moved his other hand up your shirt to cup your breast in his hand. He squeezed it, quickly finding your nipple and rubbing it between his fingers. You hissed, squeezing your legs against his hand to trap him there. 

You braced yourself against the building, the pads of your fingers seeking any kind of fissures to hold on to. Your nails scraped. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. His pace was steady but strong, driving you to the height of pleasure. 

David groaned behind you. He grinded into you, pushing your hips forward. Making you ride his fingers instead of sitting back and letting him do all the work. He mimicked stroking and moved against your hips with enough force that you could imagine it was his dick fucking you and not his fingers.

Fuck, you were so close. You began to whine, needing him to go faster. Go deeper. Do something.

“Fuckin’ missed this,” he groaned in your ear. 

You did too. 

You leaned up on your tip toes, tensing up and getting ready to cum. David slowed his fingers, pulling them out altogether. At the same moment, your sling bag was unbuckled from around your chest and the heat of David’s body was gone. 

“Motherfucker!” You screamed into the dark alleyway. There was no point following him. He was quicker to move around than you were. More adept at the surface world. He held maps in his head that you still needed help with. You relied too heavily on those stupid phones than your own sense of direction.

You punched the building and leaned your forehead against it. Of course he hadn’t changed. Of course he was after the knife. Of course he would confuse you with talks of memories and Miami. Giving you flowery poetry. Of course he left you unfulfilled like he always did. 

Greedy bastard. You got played. You jumped up, pulling your pants over your thick hips and zipping it back up. You could only laugh as you walked, uncomfortably wet, towards your bike. 

You weren’t going to panic. You had patience…sometimes. You hid a tracker in the lining of the bag, turned off for the time being. If you were David, the first thing you would do would be to search for bugs. You’d replace the bag as soon as you could, but that would have to come later. When you weren’t focused on getting away, not leaving a trail.

One thing about David was that he always had an exit plan. Always an escape. Two could play that game this time around. 

You made it to your motorcycle and unhooked the helmet that you secured to the front. You placed it over your head, throwing your leg over and straddling it. You started it up, letting the engine rumble between your legs. At least something got to rumble there tonight.

Game on David Kane, game on.

There shall be more! The Secret David Kane Files | Part 2

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Freud Said We Should Fuck [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left and Right (@shakespearesdaughters) Center (@hotchs-big-hands)

Prompt: When Aaron makes a Freudian slip on the jet, he and the reader get flushed, and later, once the case is finished, the reader finds him in his office on a lonely Saturday and teases him about it. Aka, when the reader and Hotch do something in his office other than paperwork. 

Pairing: Aaron x fem BAU-reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: Fluff/angst/smut 

Word Count: 9.9K 

A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. I’m finally back writing again and I’m so happy about it. However, I feel like it’s going to take me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I had a lot of my AU written and then I just thought it was moving too slow. So I’ve put that on hold for a bit and gone back to what I love smut. I don’t think the sex here is the best I’ve ever written, but I still like it. This idea came about because @silk-spun and I were chatting about Aaron and office sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about it - so naturally I wrote it. Please have a look at the notes before reading as there are some things that some plot points that some readers might want to avoid. I hope you like this and if you do, likes, comments, and replies are appreciated! Content Warnings under the cut. I hope you are having a good week. Love Levi - ❤️

Content Warnings: There are two unsubs mentioned in this fic: The one most talked about is a family annihilator [There are mentions of wives and children being killed, depiction of dead bodies, description of a bloody room,  mention of suicide via gun (unsub)] The second unsub kills at random [There are mentions of poisoning, falling to one’s death and drowning (the body is briefly described)] Mention of past trauma and abuse [Hotch] and the mention of an absent father. There is also sex: touching over the clothes, sex in a semi-public setting [Hotch’s office] fellatio, p in v (unprotected] Very slight dom vibes from the reader and Hotch and the slightest mention of a size kink. If I missed any, please let me know. 

List with all stories 

_y/n_ = your name

_c/t_ = coffee or tea (whichever you prefer) 

_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on height). 

_s/l_ = short or long 

_kl/s/m_ = knee length/short/mini (pick your favorite skirt length)

_y/f/c/s_ = your favorite color and style (bra)

_y/f/t/f_= your favorite type of food

The team sat in the jet as they moved toward Evansville Indiana. The skilled agents were bantering ideas off of each other, as they normally did. This unsub was very blatant with their modus operandi. As Aaron had debriefed in the conference room an hour earlier with the team and Garcia, he said, “The unsub we’re dealing with allegedly has three distinct personalities. Although I would be hesitant to diagnose anyone with a split personality disorder or DID. Many people with this condition are stigmatized due to the negative stereotypes associated with that name. If our unsub does have this condition, then we work from there. But with what we know now, this might just be a part of the ritual and pattern. The police are adamant that it’s a suspect from a mental hospital, but be wary of this. J.J. I want you to cut this off at the bud as soon as we get to the station. The media liaison nodded and replied, “You got it Hotch. I’ll clear that up and make sure they haven’t come up with any nicknames either. That always gets the press in a stir.” Aaron nodded. There wasn’t time for that kind of coverage right now. The team needed to jump in immediately once they touched down. This unsub had a swift turnaround time, killing in heinous and various ways almost every other night. His signature was that at the body of each victim, the unsub left a note from either the Id, the Ego, or the Superego, and by how killing his victims, the unsub had ‘cured them,’ and how the cure had worked. The killer's notes were reminiscent of Freud’s case notes, detailed and a bit deranged. The methods of death had been drowning, poisoning, being drowned, and most recently a fatal fall from a high cliff on a popular walking trail. _y/n_ had cringed at the sight of the drowned victim’s bloated body. It was blue and purple from its extended time in the water. The poisoned victim didn’t look any better. As was usual with BAU cases, the victims had suffered significantly before their deaths. _y/n_ had asked the group as a whole once the note element came out, “Is this guy serious? I mean, Freud is more infamous than famous at this point. His clients were all wealthy Swiss members of society, and he was ridiculed later in life for changing his theories all the time. I mean, how many Fruedians are still honestly out there?” Spencer happily replied, “In terms of clinical, licensed therapists? I’d say very few. Probably around 0.5 percent at this point. But that doesn’t mean that psychoanalysis isn’t still used in a good deal of therapeutic systems. I mean ‘Talk Therapy’ is the norm in most EBT therapy systems. So although Freud and Heidegger might have faded to obscurity, their theories remain.” Hotch had nodded and said stoically, “Wheels up in thirty. We can continue this discussion on the plane. If the unsub sticks to his pattern. They might have a new victim already.” 

Thus the team, plus Penelope were on the plane like normal. Once the jet hit cruising altitude, the team seemed to relax a bit They all fell into their usual clusters, and Hotch observed them. _y/n_, Rossi, and Spencer were continuing the psychological aspect of the case with _y/n_, while Em, Derek, and Garcia talked about the victimology and methods of the murders. Lastly, JJ was writing up a short press brief for the police and the public. Aaron knew we could never be thankful enough for the work that JJ did for the team. She covered their backs more than he could ever imagine. It was hard enough doing the job they did, but having JJ backing them up meant they weren’t smeared in the press even more. Hotch made his way to her. He sat on the seat next to hers and looked over her work. The blond woman handed him a notebook page with her statement from the police force. She said, “This is what I’ve got so far. If you have any more legal or profiler things you’d like me to add, just note them in the margins.” The woman handed him a blue ballpoint pen, and Hotch did his best to look carefully and thoroughly over the short blurb. He added a few police procedural things, but otherwise, it looked good. Aaron pushed the paper back on the small table and said, “Looks good J. I just added a few notes. Let me know when you have the one for the public done, and look it over too.” JJ looked up at him as he stood and said, “You got it Hotch. And I’ll make those corrections after I’m done with this.” Aaron then moved to Em, Morgan, and Garcia. They were looking at a map both on the seat and on Penelope's computer. Derek and Em were pinpointing the sites of the victim's body on the physical map while Garcia did the same on her laptop. The trio was trying to make a geographic profile and also see if the sites were linked to a road, river, or some natural feature. All three victims had been found in parks or locations adjacent to parks. As Hotch looked over the map, Emily said, “Given the natural locations of the dump sites and how well-versed the unsub seems to be with local and national parks in the area, this person may be a game warden or resource officer or something like that. Those positions are often isolating and not well-paid. Maybe the unsub has emotions tied to their work. That they’re not achieving enough, or making enough of an impact?” Hotch nodded at the logic of her statement and said to Garcia, “Once you’ve done that work, Garcia, look up the databases for Park Service workers and Game Wardens and make a preliminary risk. Target those who work in the parks where the victims were found and those that have been having problems at work or have had problems at work in the last two months.” Garcia loved getting directions from Aaron. She always thought that his brain was close to hers, except that he was just the quiet version of her. She smiled and said, “Aye, aye captain. Coming right up.” Aaron gave Garcia a small smile and said, “Thanks Penelope.” 

Aaron got up again. Before he moved to the last group, he was going to get a cup of coffee for himself _c/t_  for _y/n_. It was their ritual on the plane now. When they were in the office, _y/n_ got him coffee from the breakroom, and when they were on the jet, he got her drink. Aaron’s and _y/n_ relationship had moved from a strong friendship to a light romance, to, in the last six months, a much more heated and sexual affair. Of course, neither of them could say, and much less do anything while they were at work but show small gestures of affection for the other. Aaron and _y/n_ were both professional and could easily keep their relationship work-coded. That didn’t however, mean that Hotch didn’t think about the things they did off the clock. The sound of _y/n_’s bright laugh had his mind reeling back to last weekend. It had been a lazy Saturday morning at his place. She had mentioned getting a snack from the coffee shop down the street before going on a walk in the park or going to get a new book for Jack, who was currently at Haley’s. Aaron had sleepily said something like, “I think you’re enough of a snack as it is, _y/n_” as he rolled onto his back.

There was a moment of silence before _y/n_ started softly laughing. Hotch moved his eyes to her. He expected her to stop laughing after a minute, but his gaze only had her laughing more loudly. She was nearly in stitches as her mirth overflowed. Hotch, not quite sure what had caused her to be so joyful,  poked her side and said, “Alright, I give up. What’s so funny? Is my breath bad or something?” Even as Hotch asked, he couldn’t stop himself from starting to laugh too. This was something unique with _y/n_. She allowed him to open up emotionally in ways that he rarely even had. After _y/n_ had caught her breath she said, “Is that your attempt at dirty talk Hotch? If so you need to take a course.” Aaron scoffed at that and said teasingly, “I’ll make you eat those words _y/n_.” As he finished that sentence, he leaned over her and kissed her. He started lightly but became more intense as _y/n_ ran her tongue over his bottom lip. Soon enough, he was undoing the buttons of her night shift and moving his mouth lazily downward with _y/n_ saying his name breathily every time he nipped her skin lightly with his mouth. His breath was hot on the cool expanse of her body. Aaron realized as he started to make the encounter more intimate and relished in how her body responded to his.

Hotch knew that apart from being with _y/n_, he was about as closed off as human could be, and he knew it. His past as a child had inherently shown him that weakness meant pain and suffering and as hard as he had tried to grow out of that, he still had some of those mental barriers up, and they often rose when he was in situations that dealt with lots of emotions. Often he found himself unable to reciprocate. That was part of the reason that he assumed that he was so good at being a prosecutor and a profiler. People’s emotions, whether they be the unsub’s or the victim’s didn’t cause him to bluster, or lose sight of the bigger picture. He was sympathetic to the victims and listened to them with sincerity, but their pain often didn’t affect him the way it did _y/n_. This was the reason that after he spoke to the various victims, he would direct them over to _y/n_ to talk further. So they could cry unabashedly and have someone to hold them tight as they did so. Often Aaron would catch her eyes as they made the silent trade-off. There was always a silent conversation that happened in these looks. It was Aaron saying, ‘Thank you,’ and _y/n_ responded, ‘I got you.’ With time Aaron had slowly started dropping those barriers with _y/n_. She made him feel more human. More intact with his emotions such as joy and the ability to do the unexpected. Things and emotions which he had hidden inside himself a long time ago. The first time that Aaron had been very open to _y/n_ was the first time that he realized that he might have deeper feelings for _y/n_ than respect or camaraderie. 

It had been a difficult case. One of the worst. The unsub had been a family annihilator. The man, Mr. Platheville, was targeting young families with only one child. The madman had killed two mothers and their children leaving the fathers to watch in horror and live with the site of the massacre they had witnessed. The first man they had found was shell-shocked and unable to move. An ambulance and mental health experts had been called for him. The next man had been so angry that Hotch and Derek had to hold the man back from hitting and punching himself or the wall or anyone within striking distance. _y/n_ had watched on with apprehension, trying to calm the man down with her words. Although those two cases had been horrible, it was nothing compared to the last. The unsub had called and said where he was and that he had another family hostage. There were audible screams on the other side of the phone. Mr. Plathville had said, “Come quickly. Please. I can’t stop myself anymore.” At first, the team felt like this was a good step. A great step even. The man was giving himself up and asking for help. However, as the tapped line was about to be disconnected, a child’s voice cut in. It sounded scared and small as it said, “Daddy? What’s wrong with Mommy?” That had the whole team freeze. The realization that Plathville had his own family captive now had the team feel like the floor was dropping out from under them -- everyone’s stomach sinking into knots. Hotch dropped the phone first and softly said, “Everyone, move, now.” After a second, he found his voice and said loudly, authoritatively, “Move. Now.” Aaron started running to the van, and he watched as his team followed him to both his car and the other SUV. _y/n_ and Rossi piled into Hotch’s car and hurriedly buckled as Hotch hit the gas pedal. The rubber tires squealed and burned on the concrete. _y/n_ had snatched the passenger seat in the front. Hotch’s jaw was set in a tight grimace as he sped down the road. His driving was close to erratic. It wasn’t something _y/n_ had seen in him before. _y/n_’s eyes found Rossi’s in the review mirror. The older man also looked a bit concerned as well. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on Aaron’s upper arm. She could feel the muscle tight under his sleeve as his hands gripped the wheel. At her touch, Hotch’s eyes briefly left the road and met hers. Whatever expression she had on her face was enough to slow his driving speed. For him to pay closer attention to the road. 

Hotch was making her nervous. He didn’t seem like himself, but she didn’t say anything. There would be time for that later. The vans came to a raging halt outside the address that Plathville had disclosed. The house seemed quiet. Eerily so. Derek and Hotch approached the door softly. Derek breached the door and the team rushed inside. The front foyer was dark and there was no sound reverberating around the open area. The team fanned out in the ranch-style house. Derek and Spencer moved to the left side of the house toward the kitchen and guest bedroom. Rossi and Emily took the upstairs, and Hotch and _y/n_ moved left toward the living room and master bedroom. The other families had been found in the living room, and _y/n_ braced herself for a similar scene. Hotch’s shoulders tensed as he moved into the entryway of the living room. It meant that this family was already dead too. _y/n_ felt a part of her break inside, but she pulled the pieces back together for the team. For those who had passed. Both agents stepped into the room. The fact that the walls, carpet, and sofa were cream-colored only highlighted the dark splatters marring the walls, couch, and carpet which was soaked with a dark stain. _y/n_ pointed to the light switch and mouthed, “Should I turn it on?” Hotch nodded his head no and inclined this head toward the bedroom door, indicating that Mr. Plathville might still be in the bedroom. It was the only space they hadn’t breached. If Plathville was still in the house either alive or dead, it was in that room. As the calls of Spencer and Emily echoed through the house stating, “Clear,”  a small sound came from behind the closed door. Both agents' eyes snapped to the door, and they moved forward. Once they got to the door. Aaron held out a hand to stop her. He shook his head no. He leaned forward and whispered, “Go look at the bodies. And then stop the rest of the team from entering the living room.” _y/n_ met his dark eyes. They seemed to go on forever. He had the look he had before when the child had spoken on the phone. The same look he had had in the car. _y/n_ desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head, but again, now wasn’t the time. _y/n_ nodded and moved back from the door. She moved to the two bodies on the floor but continued to watch as Aaron opened the door, stepped inside, and said, “Mr. Plathville. Don’t do this. Do you think this is the ending your wife and daughter would have wanted for you?” Hotch closed the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Hotch could hear soft movement from the other side of the door. It was _y/n_ and it sounded like she was crying. Aaron pushed aside the soft sounds and focused only on Plathville. The cold metal weapon the unsub was holding in his dominant hand wasn’t pointed in any direction, but it could be in an instant. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ in the room. Because Aaron knew family annihilators, he knew them because he lived with one of them as a child. As an adult, once he learned the proper terms for killers and sadists, he realized that if he hadn’t taken the brunt of what his father doled out, his own father might have been a Plathville as well. Aaron didn’t want _y/n_ to see what might happen. He didn’t want her to see this. Hotch put up his hands and said, “Put down the gun Mr. Plathville. You’ve been a coward with how you’ve treated others because they didn’t do what you liked. Don’t be a coward now, at the end. Face what you’ve done and prove that you’re actually a man.” 

The unsub, eyes dark and glazed looked like he was about to set the gun on the bed. Aaron hoped that was what he was doing, but he didn’t trust the man either. Just as the gun seemed to be safe, Plathville turned the weapon on himself. Outside the closed door, _y/n_ heard a very loud bang. A deafening sound. At this point, _y/n was standing by the hallway with Derek. Em, and Rossi. She was doing her best to keep the three other agents at bay. When the BAU team heard the gunshot, they all rushed back into the room. Derek drew his sidearm as they all did and breached the door. _y/n_’s heart pounded in her chest because she had left him alone. Alone with an unsub who they knew had a gun; and if Aaron was dead, she would never be able to forgive herself. Not for all time. As the team rushed into the room. Hotch’s strong profile stood out against the window. His nose and jawline were distinct against the streetlight that seeped light into the room through the casement window. Aaron seemed frozen on the spot and the still and bloodied body of Mr. Plathville was slumped on the bed. _y/n_ moved forward and avoided her gaze from the new body. She took Aaron’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Not just the room but the house as well. She sensed that he needed the space away from the darkness emanating from the home. The graveyard. 

When they were at the side of the house opposite the bedroom, _y/n_ stopped. She looked down at his shoes, they had blood splatters on the toe. She looked _u/sf/d_ at him. His face was also splattered with blood. _y/n_ reached over, pulling the cuff of her white sleeve over her palm; she started wiping away the viscous red fluid from his sharp facial features. _y/n_ reflected for a moment on how attractive Aaron really was, with his stoicism and strong jaw, and how terrible a time it was for such thoughts to surface. _y/n_ pushed them away as Hotch seemed to come to himself, as she moved her hand to the other side of his face. The blood smears here were larger. There was other matter that _y/n_ would rather not speculate on. Aaron’s left hand raised and pushed her own dirtied sleeve away from his face. Hotch seemed to take a small breath, and he looked like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. _y/n_ wondered if it was his showing emotion out in the open that he perceived as being bad. She looked back at him before he seemingly crumpled into _y/n_’s arms. Low sobs reverberated on her shoulder. Tears staining _y/n_’s already soiled shirt. _y/n_ was grateful the police cruisers were on the other side of the house. Parked on the gravel drive. _y/n_knew that they would have to move soon or else the team would come looking for them. She was sure Hotch would not want to be found in such a compromised state.

_y/n_ didn’t know what else to say than, “I’m sorry Hotch. I know it’s sick and fucked up, but at least there’s no one else he can hurt. Not even himself.” And it was true. It burned _y/n_ that Mr. Plathville would face no consequences for his crimes of passion, but when an unsub took the end into their own hands, there was a certain finality to the matter. There would be fewer interviews and less press. There wouldn’t be a trial or the need for written testimony from everyone involved. It felt like a twisted prize for a game no one had asked to play. After a moment, Aaron replied softly, “It’s not that. Or it is that and some other stuff. I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m sorry.” _y/n_ frowned and pulled away a bit. Hotch looked at her with eyes asking, begging for her to stay. She took his right hand which was hanging limply at his side and said, “Let’s just walk down the drive and back. It will give you a moment to compose yourself. Get your thoughts in order. “Aaron seemed to hesitate and said, “But the police… the team, they might.” _y/n_ cut him off gently saying, “They can wait. The cops have plenty of people to interview and material to bag and tag. They can wait while we take a five-minute walk. 

_y/n_ found that walking got people talking. Particularly if the people were not wanting to open up. The movement and change of scenery seemed to give whomever she was walking with a breather and a chance to let out some thoughts if they wanted. If they didn’t, then at least they’d both gotten some fresh air. This technique had worked with Morgan, JJ, and Em. I had not worked with Spencer, but Spencer spoke so freely all the time that if he had something he didn’t want to share, then he didn’t want to share, and she understood that. This was the first time she was trying this method on Aaron. As they made it halfway up the drive, and not so much to her shock, Hotch let out a sigh and said, “It was Jack’s birthday yesterday…” _y/n_ looked over to him briefly. His eyes were on the ground, Glued to it. She knew that wasn’t the whole issue, but _y/n_ replied, “I’m sorry you had to miss that for this mess.”

They kept walking. and Aaron let out another breath and continued, “When I see people like Plathville, I see my father. I see a bit of myself in him as well.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and turned to look at him, walking backward, matching his pace. She didn’t know a lot about Hotch’s father apart from the fact that he was dead and had hurt Aaron very badly. Perhaps she could see a correlation there between the unsub and Hotchner Sr., but she couldn’t see how Hotch was at all like either man. She asked for clarity saying, “What do you mean? I don’t see how you’re like either of those monsters. You’re tied to your father by blood, but he’s gone.” Aaron looked at her and then back down the dark path they were on. A lone streetlamp shone at the end of the road. They reached it and turned back before Aaron said, “It’s a pattern. They were both absent fathers. They both lashed out at things and people. And look at me. I hardly see Jack. It feels like once in a blue moon. And I might not be lashing out at people because my job takes out that stress. But look at me in the office, I’m still anal about things. I just see these patterns. I don’t want to fail as a father, and I feel like I am.” And there it was. There was the crux of his emotions and _y/n_ ached for his pain, for his fear, even if it seemed unfounded to her. It certainly wasn’t unfounded to him, and she’d never say that. As they moved back toward the house. _y/n_ was wording and rewording her response again and again in her head; she couldn’t quite seem to come up with the perfect response. It all sounded too close to “I love you and other people love you too, can’t you see that?” She felt the hairs picked up on the back of her neck and she looked over to Aaron. He was staring at her, Asking for some kind of reply. They were near the house again and she stopped, and he stopped too. Now _y/n_ gave a sigh, her breath making a little cloud in front of her face. She finally replied, “Aaron, I don’t know what this is going to sound like to you, but here it is. I think you’re tired. I haven’t seen you sleep in three days straight because this case is so close to you. It’s close because it involves a group of people who can’t protect themselves, or their children. And I think in some ways after Haley filed, you think that you can’t protect her or Jack either. But Aaron, you’ve handled everything there with as much grace and compassion as you could. You did what Haley wanted and you still try and look after them. And maybe you don’t see Jack as often as you like, but you try. I hear you call him at night when the team’s away. And the stories you tell about when he spends the weekends over make it sound like you don’t just shower him with gifts or love bomb him. You’re trying to have a relationship with him. And I never hear you badmouth Haley, ever, which means your son can know that not all relationships work out but there can still be a kind of love and respect. A lot of kids don’t get that.” _y/n_ took a breath and she saw in his eyes that he was coming more to himself, as she finished stating, “And about you being like your father, yeah, genes are passed down, but I don’t believe that people are born bad. I think something bad happens to them and you either continue the cycle or break it. And you’re far too kind of a person, even if you don’t show it, to keep doing what you’re father did. You’d never do those things to another person. You’re not him Hotch. You never will be.”

_y/n_ looked at him to see what his reaction to her words would be. Aaron looked like he might cry again, but was holding back those emotions. She hoped she hadn’t overstepped some emotional or professional line, but she didn’t have time to ask as Hotch stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. His warm body enveloped her in the cold night. His breath fanned the _s/l_ hair at the nape of her neck. He whispered, “Thank you for that, _y/n_. I needed to hear that.” When Aaron pulled back, he was himself again. He nodded and motioned his head toward the house. As he attempted to move forward, _y/n_ grabbed his coat sleeve, and he looked at her confused. _y/n_ said, “Wipe the left side of your face Hotch. It’s still bloody.” Aaron rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. They both started walking back to the house, and he wiped off his face. As they walked back, there was an understanding that something deeper had happened between them. As Aaron moved past the cruisers with red and blue lights still flashing,  he raised the caution tape for _y/n_, and as she stepped under it. Aaron looked at her and felt a warmth seep through him. It bit through the cold outside, and he didn’t mind it. 

Aaron pulled his mind out of the haze that was focused on the sounds that _y/n_ had made last Saturday morning. Her moans and whimpers rang in his ears for a second longer. He was thankfully snapped back to the interior of the jet as a bit of turbulence rocked the aircraft. Aaron cleared his throat and moved to the coffee maker. He made himself a cup of black coffee first. He shot a prayer up to any possible deity up there that his body and mind had not synced enough for him to be aroused by his mind's inappropriate wandering. Having to hide an erection wasn’t his idea of a fun time. It had happened once or twice before and he had to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face and neck. When Hotch’s cup was done, he moved another clean styrofoam cup under the dispenser and started making _y/n_’s _t/c_. He stifled a yawn. He had spent much of the last two days working on field reports and revising the FBI’s security training. It was woefully behind the times. He had coordinated with Penelope and as helpful as Garcia was in terms of the technological aspects of cyber security, the lingo and Pen’s energy had worn him out a bit. The Keurig beeped, indicating _y/n_’s drink was done. He doctored the beverage as she liked. Aaron half blamed his wandering mind on his lack of sleep and the case. Spencer’s clear voice cut through all the others and he was talking about the more interesting sexual elements of Freud’s theories including the more lurid Oedipus and Xena complexes. Reid was going on about how the notes from the unsub seemed to really dive into those theories even though there was no sexual aspect to the case yet. Hotch grabbed _y/n_’s cup and moved back to the final group he had not spoken with yet. 

He sat next to _y/n_ and handed her her cup. _y/n_ looked at Hotch and gave him a small smile before taking a sip of her drink. _y/n_ had a random thought, as she mulled over the bizarre nature of the case. She said aloud, “What do you think Freud would think about people using his theories like this? I mean he was odd and problematic, but not that odd.” Aaron had his eyes closed, and he replied without even thinking said, “I think Freud would say we should fuck.” _y/n_ nearly spat out her drink. The liquid burned her throat as it went down. Hotch caught his mistake and flushed, quickly amending his statement saying, “I mean if Freud were still here, he would probably think the unsub would want to have intercourse with his victims. It could either be latent sexual attraction or transference of sexual desire for an authority figure like a parent or teacher. An attraction that shouldn’t be acted out.” Hotch could feel his ears burning, and he hid his face by taking a long drink of his coffee. The dark liquid burned his mouth but this pain was better than having to face to look of utter shock of his friends. Thankfully the awkwardness only lasted a second longer as Spencer picked up on his hurried line of thinking saying, “You could be right. This unsub might be impotent and killing as a means of sexual release. Or they could be killing as a displacement tactic for unwanted feelings.” Reid jumped into that conversation with a fervor and _y/n_ added her thoughts in too along with taking some notes on the comments Spence made.

Although Spencer didn’t choose to comment on what Hotch had said, when the Unit Chief looked over at Rossi, his friend had an eyebrow raised and an expression that said, “Really, Aaron?” Hotch closed his eyes, sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyelids as if saying, “I’m tired. Alright?” When Aaron opened his eyes again, Rossi just gave a little shrug as if saying, “Hey. I have three ex-wives. I’m not one to judge.” The older man ever so slightly looked over to _y/n_ and gave a small smile. The team knew that Hotch was seeing _y/n_. They were all too perceptive not to tell. But what he had just said was more personal than the team needed to know. At least not yet. Aaron liked keeping his private life private, and he would have to apologize to _y/n_ for putting their personal business out there like that. He was just thankful that he had made that slip of the tongue in front of Spencer and Dave and not Morgan and Garcia. There would be no end to the gossip if that had been the case. Aaron sat back in his seat and did his best to put back on the Unit Chief facade. One great thing was that he was able to compartmentalize his emotions and what had just happened was just a blunder. He fell easily back into the conversation and made himself useful to the team. 

The case was a wild one with the team being kept on their feet, as the unsub devolved into crazier and more complex kills. Thankfully the unsub, one Kathy Kittery got sloppy as her mind crumbled under the weight of her own brain. Thus, only one other victim was lost, the others, though traumatized would make it through the ordeal. Ms. Kittery was a therapist who had had her license revoked after having an affair with a client. Once she had taken that blow, she had moved to a second career that had always interested her. Being a Ranger in a State Park. However, as it turned out, the mental isolation did not help with her already troubled state and she had slipped into acting on her delusions, thus the need for the team to come in the first place. After the unsub had been arrested, the team, as normal, was assured that she wouldn’t be seeing freedom for a good long while. On the jet home, Aaron’s sexual comment was almost forgotten by everyone, including himself, but _y/n_ remembered and as she closed her eyes to sleep on the short flight back, her brain played out certain scenarios that she also wouldn’t want to be voiced in front of the others. When the jet touched down, the team disembarked and _y/n_ asked Aaron as they walked back to the main office, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday and she hoped that they could spend the day together or with Jack if he was staying over at Hotch’s that weekend. It felt like a while since they had had a good day to themselves. Work had piled up, and she longed for just a few solid hours with Aaron. Hotch, however, didn’t seem to pick up on her tone as he was tired. He replied in a monotone, “Probably filling out paperwork in the office I’m behind on like three cases worth and this makes a fourth.” _y/n_ pouted slightly. She knew she was being silly, but sometimes Aaron needed a break for his own good, and an idea started brewing in the back of her mind. If she had the nerve to do even half of what her head was cooking up, she would have done something she had been imagining for a long time. Longer than was appropriate probably. For the moment she just said, “Mhm. Sounds productive.” Hotch scoffed as they both entered the sliding glass door. Even he knew his life, and particularly weekends sounded miserable sometimes. After all, he was the one that put him through them. 

The next afternoon, _y/n_ pulled up to the Quantico field office. She parked her car next to Aaron’s and set her employee parking pass on the dash so it could be seen by security.  _y/n_ chuckled remembering the one time that Derek had forgotten his pass and had his Corvette towed on a Saturday. Her athletic friend had been so flustered, saying, “Oh come on! I work at the freaking FBI you’d think there would be some camera’s in this lot and they’d know I work here!” _y/n_ had laughed, patted his shoulder, and offered him a ride to the impound lot to pick up his flashy car. As _y/n_ moved through the mostly empty lot she smiled. Not that she expected there to be a lot of people at the office on a Saturday afternoon, but it boded well for what she had in mind. As entered the office and was waived through security quickly, she hadn’t brought her gun or anything important with her. She entered the bullpen and looked up at Hotch’s office. His lights were on and she could see him looking at something on his desk. It was most likely a field report. The bullpen was empty and most of the lamps on the desks were off. One or two burned brightly in the soft space. One or two of the agents must have forgotten to turn them off in the rush to get home on Friday. She turned off the lamps as she texted Aaron, “Hey, you at the office?” She looked up at his office window and his head turned to the side. Clearly, he had just received her message. His left hand raised and a second later her phone beeped. Hotch had sent back a simple “Yes.” He was never one to be overly elaborate over text. If he was forced to type more than one full paragraph he would just give up and call instead. _y/n_ always chalked it up to his hands being too big for the small phone screen. He probably made a lot of accidental typos with his thumbs and had to go back and correct them which seemed like a thing that would annoy him to no end, even if he did have autocorrect on his phone. _y/n_ took a breath as she looked at Aaron again. He was back to his paper. _y/n_ had jokingly said she would do this if the spirit led her, but somehow seemed like the dirty things she was picturing in her head were driving her up the stairs and not ‘the spirit.’ Outside Hotch’s door, she knocked once and then turned the knob. She stepped into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind her. She softly said, “Hey Hotch, how are the papers going?” Aaron looked up from his desk. He did a bit of a double take as his eyes flicked to his phone and then back to her. His eyes held a hint of surprise, warmth, and general confusion as he said, “_y/n_. What are you doing here? Do you need something?” _y/n_ couldn’t help but flush already. Hotch was just too cute sometimes; especially when he wasn’t trying.

_y/n_ smiled at him and took a seat across from him at his desk. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I was just bored I guess. I had nothing better to do, so why not give you a hand with your paperwork? Maybe I can get you out of here earlier than five p.m. on a Saturday?” Aaron raised a brow. He highly doubted that that was _y/n_’s only reason for being here, but he wouldn’t question her. Instead, he picked up a case file, and set it in front of her saying, “Suit yourself, love.” _y/n_ flushed again and pulled one of Aaron’s ballpoint pens out of the cup he kept a stash in. _y/n_ wondered how many pens he dried up per year, but wasn’t in the mood for calculus problems right now. Instead, she opened the file and started working on the first page. She had to take it for at least ten minutes before she made a move. _y/n_ assumed if she outright said, “Hey wanna have sex in your office there would be two simultaneous outcomes. The first was that she would no longer be Aaron Hotchner’s partner and that she would be a former FBI Behavioral Analyst. Neither of which sounded very appealing. So she took her time. 

When Aaron seemed absorbed in his work again, she slipped off her shoe and moved her foot across the space between her side of the desk and his. It was a bit of a reach, but she managed to brush Aaron’s ankle and the inside of his trouser leg. That did it and Aaron’s eyes snapped to hers. They were dark, hiding emotions that he often kept at bay. He cleared his throat and said, “_y/n_, really?” You chuckled and said, “Sorry. I just like to see you flustered.” _y/n_ pulled her leg back and Aaron watched as she flushed but returned to her papers. _y/n_ knew he liked it when she was a tease sometimes and that was her plan for this potentially risky act she was trying to have with Hotch. After another ten minutes, _y/n_ repeated the same action, except this time she moved her foot higher up his leg She applied gentle pressure to the inside of his leg. His grey trousers were cool under her foot as they moved up past the knee and onto his inner thigh. Her dark stockings were the only barrier between her skin and the fabric of his pants. _y/n_ looked up at him and he let out a soft breath as if his brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet. When the two entities of mind of body did collide his brows furrowed trying to reconcile the pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that this shouldn’t be happening in his office.

Before he could make any protestation, _y/n_ cut him off saying, “So, ‘Freud said we should fuck’ did he?” This reminder of his slip of the tongue gagged Aaron momentarily. It gave _y/n_ enough time to shift lower in her chair and slip her foot high enough to press over his crotch. Aaron let out a little grunt at the contact. _y/n_ continued to run her foot over his zipper, up and down in a rhythmic pattern. _y/n_ smiled as his eyes grew hazy with desire. A look she’d seen on him often, just not in his office. Never in his office. But she had dreamed about it plenty. She’d woken soaked on occasions with the notion of Aaron having her in his office, blinds drawn tight as they made love in the enclosed space. Aaron stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence, but his cock slowly hardening in his pants was not helping him at all. _y/n_ could feel it under her foot and continued to tease him saying, “You know you really shouldn’t make comments about our sex lives in front of a team of profilers. I think you owe me an apology?” _y/n_ pulled her foot away and Aaron groaned at the loss of contact, but suddenly his mind was more clear. Half of Aaron’s brain cursed _y/n_ for knowing just the right way to turn him on. The other half was already imagining her splayed out on his desk as he ate her out, or pounded into her so hard that the desk left marks on her hips. Those thoughts alone had his member twitch against his belt and fly. To consumed in his thoughts, Aaron slipped off his own left shoe, and perhaps more gently than _y/n_ had, he moved his foot up her leg and to her cunt. _y/n_ opened her legs for him slightly pushing her _kl/s/m_ length skirt up a bit. Even wearing socks, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was wet. The moan she made as he just brushed over her sex and him realize that he couldn’t wait. That he needed her, now. Hotch took away his foot and reveled in the needy noise _y/n_ also made at the lack of contact. Hotch moved quickly to his door, locking it from the inside before closing the shades to the office. His movements were hasty, jerky even. _y/n_ watched him, knowing the sexual tension must have built up since the last time they had been intimate. 

_y/n_ wasn’t sure what Aaron had in mind but she did have to ask, “There aren’t any hidden cameras in here, right?” Hotch chuckled, the sound was throaty, and he replied, “Not that I know of. And if they are, then at least we’ll both be fired.” _y/n_ laughed at this and took his hand; she led him back to his office chair. _y/n_ appreciated that he had a sense of humor in these moments that were new to him. _y/n_ knew that she pushed him to do things he hadn’t before both in and out of the bedroom, but he never complained and the bulge in his pants told her that he was already looking forward to what she was about to do for him. Aaron looked up at her a bit amazed at the things she could make him do. Never in his life had he thought he would be able to act out his fantasy. _y/n_ leaned down and kissed him softly at first and then with more hunger and ferocity. Aaron reciprocated in turn. As their lips looked in a passionate heated kiss, _y/n_ moved her hands to the belt that kept his trousers in place over his trim hips. It wasn’t as hard as _y/n_ had imagined taking off his belt without looking. The cool metal of the clasp heated against your skin. You moved to his pant’s button and zipper next. _y/n_ didn’t want to wait around anymore and once his grey briefs and thick arousal were freed, _y/n_ started palming his erection with a steady hand. Once her hand started stroking him, Aaron let out a gasp. He opened his mouth enough for her to slip her tongue into his mouth. He breathed in her throat and had her make a small contented noise as she explored the well-known concaves of his mouth. _y/n_ would never consider herself a sex expert, but when it came to new positions or scenarios with intimacy and Hotch, she often found it helpful if she took the lead. Warming him up to the idea. Making him feel comfortable and safe before they kept doing whatever it was they were trying. Oftentimes Aaron would jump on board and take the reigns, which she adored. She loved it when he told her what to do, how to lie. Everything. It was one of Aaron’s most attractive traits.

_y/n_ pulled her mouth away from his and wrapped her hand around his cock, more steadily pumping his length. Aaron said her name as he started moving his hips to meet her pace. His body responded to her touch. _y/n_ smiled at him and moved away for a moment, pushing his chair back enough for her to kneel under his desk. Aaron pushed his hips up and let _y/n_ pull his pants down, exposing his cock to the cold air. Hotch took a few steadying breaths. He knew what was to come, _y/n_ gave some of the best head that he had ever had and the anticipation of her lips on her member had him panting already. He said, “Can you not kneel all the way down like that, love? I want to touch you while you’re dining me?” _y/n_ smiled, relishing the fact that he was already taking a small amount of control of the situation. She nodded and said, “Of course Aaron, anything you ask.” With his request in mind, _y/n_ got up on her knees. It was helpful because she needed the reach to be able to lean over and take his tip in her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the top and slit, sucking at it like some rare candy. Hotch groaned as she moved her head down his length slightly. _y/n_  took in his width and length with surprising ease. He was always surprised by her ability to take him. It only made her more attractive to him. As his head swam with pleasure and endorphins, he moved his own body forward and down a little. His head almost rested on her shoulder as he moved his long arm to feel between her legs and upper thighs. He slid his hand down and over between her skirt. As he started rubbing her clothed sex, _y/n_ moaned over his cock. She took a second before she kept moving her head further down him. Her mouth and tongue doing things to him that almost made him see stars. His left hand kept massaging her wet, clothed folds while his right pushed up her shift and kneaded her breasts in turn over her _y/f/c/a/s_ bra. Aaron could feel her nipples grow rigid under her bra and he moved his hand under the intimate article of clothing that covered her chest. He squeezed her right breast and squeezed her nipple. As _y/n_ started moving her head up and down his whole length, Aaron matched her pace with his hand on her clit, pushing and pulling sensations out of her. It turned out Hotch was so aroused, so excited that he kept moving his hand faster over her sex and clit, and _y/n_ kept up her own pace. Aaron panted and tipped his head back as he released some precome and she moved off him sucking it off of him. As she moved to take him in her mouth again, Aaron stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. _y/n_’s mind and body were also hazy with desire. Her entrance ached to be filled by Hotch more fully. His hand was amazing, but nothing beat him seating himself in her fully and then fucking her to the heavens. 

Aaron could see this desire in her. A desire for him alone. Aaron pulled her onto shaky feet. He stood as well. He kissed her again, the beginning of stubble running over her chin and jaw. He pushed his pants and briefs fully off his legs and undid the side zipper of her skirt. He let it fall onto the beige carpet. He pulled back from her mouth and slipped his hands at the elastic of her stockings. He was too impatient to pull them down gingerly. Instead, he used just a bit of his strength to rip them down the center seam. _y/n_ let out an exhalation of breath. She knew it was going to get good now. Not that it hadn’t been good before, but she knew that it could get even better than his thumb and middle finger rubbing against her sex and clit. Aaron looked at her panties and noticed how they matched her bra. He murmured, “You had this all planned, didn’t you, you little devil?” _y/n_ gave him a wink and said, “Maybe just a little. You mad about it?” Hotch let out a little throaty growl and slipped his fingers under the band of her underwear. When they were on the floor, he moved to the desk. He pushed his files to the side along with the batch that _y/n_ had been working so diligently on a few minutes ago. He might desperately want to bend her over his desk, but he wasn’t so stupid to waste three good hours of work by having his files fly all over the place while he fucked _y/n_.

Once the forms were safely on the other side of the desk, Aaron grabbed her hips, turned her body 180 degrees, and then pressed her upper body flush to the hard dark wood of his desk. Hotch had unbuttoned her shirt and her skin felt cool against Hotch’s desk. She anticipated Aaron’s next move as he moved behind her slowly. Hotch pumped his throbbing length once or twice to ready himself. Another bead of precum moved to his tip and he wet his member with it. Even if he was ready and _y/n_ was ready, some of her wetness was even dripping down her thigh, Hotch was going to tease her still, as she had teased him. Aaron moved right next to her and slid his cock up and down her entrance, slightly pressing at the space that was begging for him. Aaron used his left hand to stroke over her weeping sex and _y/n_ moaned saying, “A-aron. Please. Please fuck me. Oh god.” Aaron looked at his length now coated in his and _y/n_’s excitement. It didn’t take more than her words for him to press himself into her fully with a measured thrust. _y/n_ let her out a breath and Hotch could feel her body press into the side of the desk. Aaron pulled out and pressed in again. _y/n_ let out a whimper and there was a slight squelching sound and he began to move in and out of her more quickly. Aaron's thick cock filled her fully and Hotch watched as he pushed in and out of her building his speed. The veins of his length ribbed her insides and _y/n_ almost let her feet go from under her, the desk and Aaron holding up her weight as he kept pressing into her with a relentless pace. _y/n_ could feel him fill her fully, pressing his whole member deep inside her. Aaron knew just how to move his hips to hit her sweet spot and she was panting and babbling in under a minute. Aaron moved one hand to her mouth whispering, “Shhh, now. We wouldn’t want to get caught, now would we?” _y/n_ wanted to protest and say, ‘You know no one is out there, Hotch,’ but her head was so full of lust, desire, and longing to let go. Aaron’s movements had her desire building and she knew Aaron could feel it too. Hotch picked up the pace, rapidly thrusting into her. He moved his left hand to her clit and let go of her mouth so she could let out a litany of sounds. As he kept his fast pace and circled her clit, her body pushed roughly against his desk with every thrust, she whimpered, “I...I’m gonna come, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and leaned down so his chest was flush with her back. His hand on her outer erogenous zone moved quickly and _y/n_’s walls fluttered and then contracted against his cock. _y/n_ cried out and let go of everything, letting the pure bliss of her orgasm overcome her. The sounds of her release had Aaron climax as well. He groaned as he pushed into her a few more times as he let his spent his ejaculation into her. Their shared sounds of pleasure filled the room and Aaron considered how this was better than he could have ever imagined. _y/n_ though spent, felt the same way. 

Hotch took a moment to catch his breath and after a minute he let out a contented sigh. He pulled out of _y/n_ gently. As _y/n_ similarly let out a hum of happiness. She loved the way he was so gentle with her at the end of their intimate encounters. Aaron helped her stand and led her to the couch at the side of the room. Neither exactly felt like saying anything in the soft afterglow of their shared experience. Aaron had her sit on the couch and pulled moved back to his desk. He opened the left drawer and pulled out a pocket square that he rarely wore. He found the linen handkerchiefs too formal and stuffy. And as someone who came off as formal and stuffy already, he didn’t need a fashion accessory to add to the impression. But now, the fabric would come in handy. Aaron walked back to the couch with the confidence of a man who had performed very well. _y/n_ would have laughed at his cockiness if he wasn’t so damn good at sex. The first they had done it, she was so tight that it would have hurt if he hadn’t helped prep her very well. Now he fit her perfectly and he knew it.

She smiled lazily at him as he knelt down and gently cleaned her up. He loved her, but if his or her release started staging his furniture, it might lead to awkward conversations later. When he was done cleaning her body, he wiped himself. He raised his head and said, “Was that everything you wanted darling? You did very well by the way. You felt so good for me. I hope I was the same for you?” _y/n_ beamed and said, “It was everything I wanted and more. Thanks for indulging me. Aar. But I do think you should get out of this office. Being cramped up in here isn’t good for you mentally, sexually, or physically. So what do you say we get out of here and get an early dinner and watch a Christmas movie at my place, huh?” Aaron chuckled and folded the soiled handkerchief to the clean side facing out. He put it in his pocket and smoothed down his now very crumpled shirt. He grabbed his pants and underwear along with _y/n_’s skirt and panties. He tossed them over to her and they both changed. As Aaron zipped up his pants, he said, “Sounds like I good plan. These papers can wait till Monday morning.” Somehow _y/n_ always seemed to know what he needed, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it now. Not after what they’d just done. As _y/n_ put her clothes back on, he paced his briefcase and packed _y/n_’s ripped tights inside with his other work. He wouldn’t just throw those away in the trash by the door. As he did this, _y/n_ moved behind him and gave him a hug saying softly, “You know I really liked those tights, so I expect a replacement stat, mister.” Hotch chuckled and said, “You got it, _y/n_, but you know I couldn’t help myself. Not when you tease me like that.” There was a shared laughter as Aaron turned off his lamp, grabbed his and _y/n_’s bag, and opened the door for both of them. He locked the door to his office behind him and trailed _y/n_. He had suddenly grown an appetite and asked, “So, what type of food are you feeling.” _y/n_ thought about it as they descended the stairs. She took his hand and said, “How about _y/f/t/f_?” Aaron smiled and said, “Sounds great!” _y/n_ rested her head against Aaorn’s shoulder and contemplated how lucky she was for him, and for Freudian slips.

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[joons]

This may be a prickly subject, and I'm sorry if so. But I'm trying to learn more about Elvis, and every time I bring him up to people I know, they try to tell me he was this terrible person, and point me toward Priscilla's book, the movie made on it, and the discourse. Idk if you've talked about it on here (I tried searching your blog but couldn't find anything on it). If you're willing, I'd love to hear your take on it so I can see a more nuanced view.

The film Priscilla was greenlit roughly a month after Priscilla herself was informed that she was close to becoming financially insolvent in 2022. With a business partner, Brigitte Kruse, who allegedly helped broker the film deal, she established a limited liability company called Priscilla Presley Partners that was supposed to use her image and likeness to create several lines of merchandise to coincide with the film's release. That business partner is now suing Priscilla because she did not have the rights to her image or likeness, or any ability to use the Presley name, because she had already sold all of those rights and was no longer considered in good standing with Graceland or Elvis Presley Enterprises. The entire business deal, then, according to the lawsuit, was built on her misrepresentation of how much her image was worth.

The deal between the two of them fell apart after Riley Keough, Lisa Marie's daughter and Priscilla's granddaughter, settled with Priscilla to give her a lump sum of $1 million from Lisa Marie's estate and yearly amounts of $100,000. Priscilla sued very shortly after Lisa Marie's death because she thought Lisa Marie's signature on a will had been forged because Priscilla was not included in it. All of the assets were supposed to go directly to Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough, who died in 2020, and her three daughters, two of whom are still teenagers. Now, part of those assets have been claimed by Priscilla and her other son, Navarone, who has no connection to the Presley family and has stated he is glad Lisa died.

Four months before Lisa's death, Lisa wrote to Sofia Coppola and made it clear she had strong concerns about the Priscilla film and was suspicious of the intentions behind it:

"As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character. I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father. ... I will be forced to be in a position where I will have to openly say how I feel about the film and go against you, my mother and this film publicly."

Lisa was enormously grateful for efforts put into 2022's Elvis to find her father's soul and to restore his dignity in a world that often turns him and his family into a joke:

"You can feel and witness Baz’s pure love, care, and respect for my father throughout this beautiful film, and it is finally something that myself and my children and their children can be proud of forever."

It is such a strong and powerful statement, to see how much Lisa valued family, not just her father but her own children and their legacy, and how willing she was to speak up no matter what was going on in her personal life to say what was right. On this and many other things, Lisa and Priscilla's values have rarely been in alignment. A friend and EPE business associate, Joel Weinshanker, said of her, "Lisa couldn't be bought, she couldn't be pushed. If she felt that something wasn't in Elvis' best interest, it was never about money. And she really is the only Presley that you could say that about."

Priscilla, though, has adjusted her stories about her time with Elvis almost every time she discusses it. For a quick example, she said in her book, which was released in 1985, that Elvis insisted she do her hair and makeup a certain way, that he had control over her look and would get upset if she didn't dress how he wanted. But in an interview with Ladies' Home Journal in 1973, she said that she made a deliberate choice to attend makeup school so that she could learn how to style herself, and that it was her idea to wear big, black hair and big, black eyeliner. She said she was embarrassed for going overboard. She said, "I wish that Elvis had said something, but he must have liked it because he never commented." This lines up with recollections from Patti Parry, a platonic friend of Elvis' and a hairstylist, who said Priscilla always wanted Patti to do her hair in a "big boombah," but that Priscilla would then get upset when Elvis didn't notice or didn't like it.

These changes are impossible not to notice if you follow her for any length of time. At the film premiere, she said it felt just like watching her life and said she was consulted on everything, since she was an executive producer. After the film came out, she said she couldn't understand why Coppola had changed so much about the story and misrepresented events. In the '70s, she said she and Elvis lived almost totally separate lives, that she came and went as she pleased, and that she loved this freedom. Later, she said she felt completely stifled and trapped and never left the house, even though she had friends she went out with all the time. In 2019, she tweeted a forceful denial about a National Enquirer story: "This is the Enquirer folks... please don't believe everything you read. ... Never planned on being buried next to Elvis. What will they come up with next?" But part of her settlement demands in her lawsuit against Riley in 2023 asked "to be buried next to Elvis." This year, she said in two separate interviews that Lisa was with her when Elvis died and that Priscilla had to break the news to her, despite the fact that Lisa was at Graceland when it happened. She has said she gave Elvis the idea to wear belts on his jumpsuits, to have a lightning bolt as his logo, to sing "An American Trilogy," though none of that is true. She retells the story about forcing Elvis to burn all of his spiritual books to prove he loved her as an almost funny anecdote about debrainwashing him, while Elvis later said it was the worst thing he ever agreed to, a desperate attempt to make her happy by giving up the things he valued the most. (For the record, this is my opinion about their relationship on both sides: thinking they could change themselves and each other to make it work. It never did.)

Every secondhand Elvis account has to be treated lightly and only valued for its consistency with known facts and other witnesses. I try to give enormous benefit of the doubt to anyone in the Elvis world because they often only have partial knowledge of what Elvis may have been thinking at any given time, and there are numerous examples of people who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous journalists who changed the story they wanted to tell. But Priscilla's stories sometimes are not even consistent with her own statements, which makes them very poor options indeed to base anything on. However careful we are about noting potential biases and inaccuracies in other memoirs, we have to be triply, quadruply careful with anything in which Priscilla involves herself because she has a vested interest in generating discourse today in order to make money. Unfortunately, Priscilla has a habit of stifling other accounts or making sensationalized statements each time there is a possibility that she will lose some of the cachet that comes with being an Elvis Source—after Elvis' death, when she believed she was going to inherit his airplane and disinvited everyone that Vernon said could fly in it to his funeral; when she sued the parents of one of Elvis' ex-girlfriends after he died because he had allowed them to live rent-free in a house he bought for them; when she claimed that Elvis wanted to reunite with her before his death, despite the fact that he was engaged to someone else and told many people he couldn't see a reunion ever happening with her; before Vernon's death, when she convinced him to make her an executor of the Presley estate until Lisa came of age; after Lisa came of age, when she convinced Lisa to let her stay on as partner; when Lisa accused Priscilla of misspending Lisa's money, during which time anonymous sources cropped up to say Lisa was in debt and drug-addled; when Priscilla was removed from her position as an EPE spokesperson but kept collecting $900,000 a year from the company; when Lisa died, and Priscilla sued once she learned she wasn't in the will; when Priscilla was no longer associated with EPE and decided to do another adaptation of a book that she has since recanted parts of and has contradicted before and after its release.

When Priscilla thinks there is a threat to her image and position, she does new interviews and projects to muddy the waters and stir public interest, whether it is true or false, positive or negative, laudatory or defamatory. She gets corrected by Elvis' surviving family members, girlfriends, friends, and fans, but these stories do not get the same reach no matter how much they are backed by contemporaneous documents and witnesses, or how many resources there are to educate the public on how Elvis' and Priscilla's attitudes about marriage and relationships changed—along with the rest of society—between 1960 and 1970.

I think almost any single-source project is not going to advance our understanding of Elvis in any way because no one individual can speak for him, and we are kind of obligated to include all the context we can in order to appreciate his character, his successes and failures, flaws and virtues—and to treat both himself and those around him as fully three-dimensional people who have their own blind spots. Priscilla is far too aware of her own image, and far too willing to change it to suit the audience, to be particularly valuable here.

She is next scheduled to appear at the Lexington (Kentucky) Comic & Toy Con.

[krisluxxeeempress]

PICK- A - PILE, HOW DOES YOUR PERSON FEEL ABOUT YOU?

Pile One ( Skeleton Lovers) :

First things first, it's very clear that you guys are lovers however, the card came out in the reverse. I personally hold the lovers card in higher regards in comparison to the two of cups card. Anyone can have a connections but very few truly have a Divine soulmate or Twin flame connection as that is what the Lovers card indicates for me. With that being said, you both are very aware that you have shared many lifetimes together however, the BS has followed with it. I am showing a separation and you guys may not be talking. The masculine in this dynamic feels like they have lost complete control and or, refused to control their sexual desires. He may have cheated or refused to commit! The masculine could have used work as an excuse to avoid commitment and to cover up dealings with another person. ( how typical , yawns) If that is not your case, this masculine could have very well misunderstood your soulmate connection in it's entirety and as a result refused to commit. I see you guys had a sexual relationships for some and for others, where you possibly never met- there was a lot of fantasizing and 4D, 5D sexual encounters taking place for the both of you. Someone could have a fear of commitment or true intimacy due to a previous failed and traumatizing relationship ( yawns again). I am showing either you, them or both of you cannot stop looking at each others pictures, videos, social media or listening to any voicemails that may be saved still. For some of you, your person was in silent competition with you and they are mad you did not compete. This silent competition could be due to finances, career status or positions. It could be competition where you are literally competing for this persons attention, affection and love. So basically, they tried to make you jealous. (yawns again). For some, there was no real competition, all illusion created by them. Others of you, this person was leading you on out of pure ignorance of what your connection really was and meant. Emphasis on meant as this connection could be past tense, as i am seeing someone moving on and no longer wanting to be stuck mentally or physically. Someone is sexually frustrated or both, I see baby oil, dildos which only means one thing masturbation. For some, this person wants to have a family with you, others you already have one and they are concerned that you may move a long distance away or simply, find someone else to start a family with. They are mad at themselves because they knew better, allegedly, but didn't do better when they had the opportunity. For some, you do not have children and may have verbalized this at some point which prompted them to seek elsewhere. You may have had a change of heart, not because of them, but maybe- however, you had a change of heart and now want children but the damage is done considering whatever they did during your separation. Or whatever they did, or didn't do that led to the separation. The Outcome is not being able to move on meanwhile you have. Energy is fluid and so this can change, keep that in mind however, as of right now- it's a strong no.

Pile Two ( XOXO ):

Intuitively, this energy feels like a game. Like someone is playing chess and the other is playing checkers! ( i wrote this before pulling the cards) Let's proceed, shall we? Someone may have a Aquarius or Pisces moon, or moon on 11th or 10th house, regardless- i am getting that your person is completely detached or unable to identify how they feel at the moment. It's giving Linkin' park vibes, " Numb". The cards kept flying on the floor and so this can indicate someone who wants to brush things under the rug or they have a tendency to do this. If you had suspicions about your person cheating or using you for energy, attention or worse sex, it's true. It's hard to tell what side the reader is on because this person either is genuinely emotionally devoid or they have a strong poker face. Interesting i mentioned chess, checkers and now poker. Could be dealing with a Leo or Pisces. This energy seems confusing and all over the place! If this is your person for sure, it looks like they were using someone else until you wanted them or came back to them if there was a separation. I am wondering if Pile One resonated with you. I am also getting if someone claimed that a specific person or group of people were just their friends, the tarot cards and my intuition determined THAT WAS A LIE. This person wants to apologize for causing confusion, lying and either using you for sex or using others for sex until you came back around. I really think you should look into Pile One. You may have found out your position in all these mind games on your own or through this reading but they are mad because it looks like you have moved on or in the process of it. It looks like you are healing, focused on yourself and your financial stability- amongst other things that don't revolve around them and they are mad. They are mad that they lost at their own jigsaw games of BS. They are mad your standards are higher and defenses stronger now. They are mad you will no longer perform oral sex on them as it's clear you are the Goat with the Throat or Tongue, i don't know. They feel like you have moved on with a quickness and somehow it's an injustice. The outcome is only confirming that you have pulled back your loving energy and as of right now, i see no plans of you changing your mind. It looks like you are standing on principle and business. They want to apologize but . . I do not that being effective.

Pile Three ( Love Message):

Wow! this pile started off very strong with the world, death and lovers card all up right. This indicates to me a major transformation as within and so without! It appears like a lot of you are in relationship with the Divine and yourself and "your person" is really mad about this. They are mad you have chosen yourself. This person is realizing that they need you and want to have a heart to heart convo with you but the opportunistic card came out. This is the classic case of " you don't know what you have until it's gone" vibes. If you have no past person mad, this spread is indicating that you are unavailable to anyone past, present or future. Crazy thing is, this unattainable energy you are exuding is making other want to attain you. You are intelligent, stable, solid, and giving off royal vibes. You are committed to yourself and this is extremely attractive to the point, others are viewing you as a opportunity. This can be bad or good, you know this. Others see you as Husband or Wife material and are more than willing to fight for your affections. A lot of you have done the spiritual work to radiate such Divine and Royal energy. People want to be transparent with you, submissive even. They see your worth because you know your worth. There are some people who are mad you are not on their time or making time for them. In addition to, being mad that you do not show emotion! I feel like it was the complete opposite before where you wore your heart on your sleeve and even wiped your tears with the same sleeve. Sidenote, some of you may have a sleeve tattoo or this particular person- who feels entitled to your time and emotions, does. Some of you are just not the same person, it's the simple. You have came back from the dead, a completely new, powerful and fearless person. Whatever emotions you had, have died. These people that want you attention and love messages are going to have to be a magician to revive your emotions back from the dead, haha. You are not mean but you are direct and no nonsense. Some hate it and others love it. Congratulations, looks like a lot of respect, admiration and new beginnings are ahead, for you.

Thank you for reading! If this resonated, please consider hitting the reblog button so others can gain clarity and confirmation on their situations.

I offer more tarot readings on Youtube, Patreon & Tiktok! Check me out, links will be below for your convivence.

[amaditalks]

“He may not be in office, but Donald Trump has been speaking with the powers that be about Israel’s war on Gaza—but it’s not in an effort to end the genocide.

Instead, Trump has allegedly been talking with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to avert a cease-fire deal, fearing that doing so could help Vice President Kamala Harris win in November, according to PBS.

“The reporting is that former President Trump is on the phone with the Prime Minister of Israel, urging him not to cut a deal right now, because it’s believed that would help the Harris campaign,” said PBS’s Judy Woodruff Monday night. “So, I don’t know where—who knows whether that will come about or not, but I have to think that the Harris campaign would like for President Biden to do what presidents do, and that’s to work on that one.”

It wasn’t immediately clear if Woodruff was referring to a new report, or an Axios story last week that cited two U.S. sources as claiming that Trump and Netanyahu had spoken on the phone about cease-fire and Gaza hostage talks. Netanyahu’s office and Trump both separately denied the report.”

****

Right now, US Secretary of State Anthony Blinken is in Israel, trying to get the ceasefire and long-term peace deal that both Israel and Hamas have already tentatively agreed to hammered out and brought to fruition. President Biden has been clear that this is one of his top priorities for his remaining months in office. Kamala Harris has made it clear that this is something that must get done. Even with a tentative agreement, both sides are slow walking the process of ending this ongoing horror.

It would be exactly like Trump and completely in line with his long-term behavior for him to try to undercut this peace process, at the cost of human lives, for his own benefit. That’s who he is. And he and Netanyahu are close. Biden and Netanyahu very much are not. He and Netanyahu are both, after all, criminals. Birds of a feather and all of that.

I cannot reiterate more strongly, especially for those of you who are still hedging about voting for Kamala Harris because of Palestine that you are making a grave error and have been all along. It is time to course correct.

If you care about the lives of Palestinian people, you cannot do anything that risks Donald Trump returning to the White House. End of story. 

[elf-kid2]

Modern Witchers

So this contractor drives into this tiny town, way out in the sticks, in the kind of beat-up white van used by many tradesman, and allegedly favored by murderous kidnappers.

He's got white hair that you're not sure is bleached or not, strange eyes short manners. Maybe (probably) he kinda gives you the creeps. White van, stranger-danger, big guy with muscles, and all. Bad vibes.

But you've got a problem, no denying: there's SOMETHING in those woods that doesn't belong there, and recently, when the local boys went to DO something about it... that SOMETHING went from killing livestock, to killing people to. And you know, once those types of creatures get a taste for human blood... best to deal with it sooner, rather than later. Hence, the out-of-town contractor.

Witchers specialize in hunting monsters, after all.

Better to put together a fundraiser to pay the (frankly, outrageous) fees now, then to have to pay all that later, plus the surcharge for beasts that've killed multiple people, plus pulling together the funds for more funerals.

A stitch in time save nine, as the saying goes.

He's got a musician hitchhiking with him, which you weren't expecting. Some hapless hitchhiker with a dufflebag over his shoulder, and a guitar on his back, who got lost on the way to Vegas, or Nashville, or wherever it is starry-eyed musicians go to Make It Big, these days.

Auntie said that any hitchhiker with sense'd be better off walking down a lonely road, instead of getting into a van like that, driven by a man like that. But I guess it takes all kinds of kinds, and that musician hadn't been murdered yet, so make of that what you will.

Anyhow, the musician started busking in the farmer's market-- some decent covers, a few original songs, and some kind of surprisingly catchy jingle for the contractor who'd given him a lift into town. It was pretty good; live music is always a treat when you can get it, and it'd been a while since the last Bluegrass Festival.

He knew how to charm people, work the crowd, how to ask for "donations to the fine arts" without being irritating about it. People dropped cash, and pennies, and quarters, into his open guitar case, at any rate.

I reckon he scraped together at least enough for lunch, form himself'n his friend. Witchers are surly and stingy as anything, y'know, so I wondered why he wasn't covering the meal, with how much he'd charged for slaying the monster...

...But I overheard mention of how he'd had to get that van fixed up at Joe's Auto-Mechanics, over by the old factory in the valley-- and everyone knows that Joe's Auto'll charge three times what the repairs are worth, with parts that cost ten times as much as they oughtta. Lord knows, those scammers'd be out of business, if there were any better options within 50 miles of their shop!

And that is why if you think your truck's getting ready to break down, you should try an' make sure it breaks down closer to home. And also why I figure it makes sense that even a Witcher'd be short on cash, after dealing with 'em.

Anyway, the Witcher spoke with the Sheriff, and he went out monster-hunting that night.

Meanwhile, that hitchhiking musician was playing at the local bar, and let me tell you-- he was pretty damn good! Played a few drinking-songs, and the kind of songs you can't play in front of the kiddos at Farmer's Market, played some catchy tunes that had people dancing and clapping along...!

I particularly enjoyed the murder-ballad about the woman who turned into a vengeful fire-monster when she found out her man was messing around with other women. Very clever wordplay, "flames of desire lighting up your funeral pyre!" Good stuff.

Then the Witcher came in-- fresh from the contract, and half-covered in mud and blood! Barkeep wouldn't even let him sit down until he'd hosed off the worst of it, out back!

Musician-- Jaskier, he called himself-- raised a toast to a successful hunt, and another to monster-hunters who let loving families sleep safely, and rowdy drunks stumble home un-eaten, and soon enough somebody was buying that Witcher a drink, and the barkeep gave him a plate of food on the house, and it was good times all around!

Beats toasting newly-dead friends, and drinking to forget the monsters at the door, any day.

The thing is, this is a small town. Not a lot of people come visit, and if they do, they're generally staying with family. Which is to say, there aren't any motels around here.

Now, that contractor, that Witcher, he'd asked around, beforehand, about what was available, in terms of overnight accomodations-- which, let's be honest, isn't much around here. Come morning, I saw that beat-up van parked outside the Rosebud Bed & Breakfast.

Now Rosebud's is a nice place, a respectable establishment, but we all know they've had some trouble since that big storm last month, when a tree smashed through the roof! Las I checked, that Bed & Breakfast only had the one bed fit for guests to sleep in!

Might've been a rather one-sided bidding war, or a tight fit, with two out-of-towners vying for a roof overhead, that night. But that's none of my business.

Jaskier the musician left town with the Witcher-- Geralt Rivera, I think the name was-- same as he came in. Well, makes sense that he wouldn't want to stay long enough to put down roots, a young musician on a mission to see the world and/or become rich and famous.

The Witcher, Geralt, did good work with the monster, too. I guess that's why they're the experts... Some folks are talking about having what's left of the beasty taxidermy'd, did you know? Might make a decent tourist attraction, or a decoration for Town Hall, or something. I don't know.

Anyway, all that's to say... don't let anybody tell you there's not still a need for Witchers, in the modern day.