#heads up that this is quite a long post so in case you may not want to read it all(dont blame you) theres just a few things to know

[daily-crabbys]

mmg,, i might hiatus again,,,

I'd hate to do it, but there's no joy in crab posts as of right now, and also as of a long while ago.

Managing messages and responding to people in replies and being tagged and all the stuff in inbox is. a lot.

I never intended or expected crab blog to get this big, and it feels like such a chore to do at this point. Not that I dont like it, and not that I dont enjoy the fellow crab lovers, but it's certainly overwhelming.

That plus other socials and such that I manage and real life stuff is just. IDK, it's a lot. Usually, if I get to this point, I just drop off, maybe delete the account if I really can't stand it, but I'm definitely not going to do that here.

At the very least, I'm going to empty out the submissions that have been piling up, but after that, I'm not sure. I may not even get through all of those, I've already been relying on those for a long time at this point, and I think that's pretty obvious.

It feels like a hassle to deal with those anyways since most people don't even identify what type of crab it is that they submit, so I have to take the time to find it, which is usually not at all easy. There are so many posts that I've just had to guess what to tag it as because I just don't know, and there's no solid answer that I can find, at least not usually.

Which is also partially my fault, I've never said anything about it before, and I never specified it at an earlier time to make incoming ones less stressful to deal with, but even so I just. I don't know, I don't.

I don't know exactly when it'll happen, but it's the most likely thing to happen from here. I think I'll modify some stuff about how I handle the daily-crabbys blog to make it easier on me when I come back, but I'm not entirely sure what that'll be. I've never managed a successful daily posting account before, I haven't the slightest clue how to make it all easier on me.

Sorry that this has gotten so long, I didn't mean to rant. There's just so much that I feel like I need to say.

This isn't something coming out of nowhere, and it isn't going to be immediate. I've thought about wanting to do this for a while, and I know I did this already not too long ago, but I didn't really change anything for myself, so I'm just burnt out a lot faster.

Sorry again, both for the length of this and the fact that it's going to happen, but I've just got to make things better for myself before I carry on long term. I really just fucked myself over by not doing this the first time, but if I don't do something about it eventually then I'll just end up hating this blog too much to continue.

🦀💜

[rosalinrabbit]

Dealer

Blue Banisters Tracklist

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of illegal activity and trafficking and generally creepy behavior, arguing, boss/employee relationship, implied age gap, smut, sex, slight BDSM vibes, dom!Hotch x sub!Reader, spanking, degradation, praise, slight choking, oral sex, penetrative sex. 

Summary: You’ve been working at the BAU for nearly two years ever since you crossed Aaron Hotchner’s path while working undercover. When you’re asked to go undercover again to solve a case, you take a huge risk and disobey Hotch. Unfortunately for you, he thinks you need to be punished. 

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I may not have time for kinktober but I do have time for a lil halloween themed aaron fanfic

You are in charge of your own media consumption. Please read responsibly.

Do not translate or re-upload any of my work. Works are only cross-posted on AO3.

You met Aaron Hotchner in the middle of a particularly cold November. A ridiculous coincidence, really. You’d heard of him, even sent in a recent application to work for his team, though had some doubts you’d ever hear back. The BAU was a tough, tight-knit group. And even though you were working a case, you wondered if this might make the entirely wrong impression.

You worked for the FBI, in the Human Trafficking division. You’d been undercover for a little over two months, posing as a young grad student with a shady second job at a club. You weren’t a stripper, but you were dressed in a black latex bunny girl suit, complete with faux sleeve cuffs, a ribbon tied in a bow at your hip, a collar, a set of ears, and a fluffy white tail. Your job description, according to your boss, was a waitress. And you weren’t the only undercover agent at the club.

It had been a strange hotbed of criminal activity. Clearly enough so that the FBI had to show up for one reason or another. The outfit was too tight to conceal a proper weapon, all you had on you was a wire and a knife. You had to rely a lot on the others staking out the club, and you noticed one of them had just gotten distracted despite one of your targets acting quite shifty in the corner. This particular target you despised the most. You could tell something was very off about him, and as you were fed details of the case and studied the frequent customers at the bar, you were quite sure it was him. The guy wasn’t a seller, but you were quite sure he was buying. The girls he bought never showed up again.

That was when you noticed Aaron Hotchner enter the club with two other members of the BAU. Your eyes flickered between them and your target. They weren’t looking at him. They made the same mistake you initially made, focusing on the wrong guy. You’d spent enough time working the case to know, but your superior had never mentioned the BAU involving themselves in this particular case. 

Taking a deep breath and plastering on your customer service smile, you walked over to Agent Hotchner holding the tray of champagne glasses.

“First time here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side as you offered them drinks.

One of the other agents, a very muscular-looking black man, answered for the three of them. “Yeah, mind if we ask you a few questions?”

You smiled. “Of course. How may I assist you?” You batted your lashes, unwilling to give up your ruse even in the presence of other federal agents. You’d worked too hard for this.

“Are there any men that frequent this club, ones that you and the other workers know to stay away from?” 

“Most of the repeat customers are, surprisingly, not too bad. But there’s a few lingering around that the workers know to be careful of.” You watched your target from the corner of your eye, making sure not to look too long to tip anyone off. You watched him eye a girl who’s friend had just left to go to the bathroom. “I can point out a few, but I think you can usually tell just by looking at them,” you shrugged, putting a hand on your barely concealed hip. You carefully caught the eye of the man you were speaking to and pointedly glanced to the corner where the most suspicious regulars tended to gather. 

“That’s all, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

You smiled at the three of them, watching closely as they moved toward the wrong man. Just your luck, your target stood up at the same time as the other guy did, and they both went in opposite directions.

Attempting to casually wade through the busy crowd, you couldn’t seem to catch the eye of your undercover partner, but you saw the target talk to the girl sitting alone before luring her towards the back. Quickly, you managed to pass the tray to another worker before looking back, catching agent Hotchner staring at you. You wished there was a way to signal that you could use his help, but you didn’t know him. Instead, you mouthed the words “wrong guy” to him across the crowded floor, music blaring in your ears as you quickly turned and tried to quietly follow the man through the back of the club. 

That night, you had managed to not only get a recording of the man talking to your “boss” about their second business, but also witnessed him inject the girl in the backroom with a tranquilizer. After finally retrieving your handcuffs and pistol from your partner, you both managed to tackle and arrest the two men, and requested backup to gather evidence at the club and pick up the handcuffed men.

It must have been a ridiculous sight, you in a bunny girl costume with your gun now holstered to your hip once more, holding the handcuffed arms of a criminal behind his back in a cold dark alley. When you finally got them loaded into the cars, you turned to see Aaron Hotchner watching you. 

“Hello again,” you greeted a bit nervously, no longer playing a character and now just an FBI agent standing in hardly any clothes in front of a higher-ranking agent. “I’m Agent y/l/n, FBI, Human Trafficking division,” you held your hand out. 

He shook it. “Agent Aaron Hotchner. Unit Chief of the BAU. You tried to warn me back there,” he commented, taking off his own jacket and coming closer to offer it to you. You gave him an unsure look, and he returned it with an insistent one. 

“Thank you, sir. And yes, but it’s hard to do much of that in a busy nightclub,” you shrugged, putting the jacket over yourself and finally getting both relief from the cold and from the embarrassment of showing so much leg and cleavage in front of the man you really wanted to work under. For! Work for. Although, he was quite tall. And quite handsome.

“Still. You did a good job. It seemed like you caught something we didn’t. How could you tell we were looking into the wrong guy?”

“I’ve been working on this case for over two months. At first, I had the same assumption. But something from the profile was missing. I watched them both, and eventually came to the conclusion that I got it wrong the first time.”

“What I’m really asking is how you knew who we were going in there for.”

“Oh, I just watched you. I knew when you came in. He was the first guy your gaze really stuck on.” 

His expression showed the slightest hint of amusement. “Are you interested in a job?”

You smiled. “Very much so.”

“Send me your resume.”

“It’s already submitted for the open position, sir.”

He nodded, giving you a strange look.

“I expect I’ll see you again soon, then,” and he started to walk away.

“Wait, your jacket!”

“You can return it later. At your interview.”

That night was almost two years ago. The two of you had been a nearly inseparable pair ever since. You knew how to read him across a room, and he knew how to read you. You figured that was why he always had you with him. 

Just two months in, he told you he might be leaving the BAU after getting suspended for two weeks. His wife didn’t want him to work anymore. Said that his job isn’t who he is, just what he does.

You seemed to shock him by looking at him like you always did when the two of you spoke. As if the entire thing was obvious.

“I don’t think she can possibly understand how much we care about what we do. How what we do is who we are, and we know not everyone can do it. You’re one of the best, Hotch. You can be a good father and a good agent. Unfortunately, whether you can be a good husband and a good agent? That is an opinion left up to your wife. Her definition is what really matters, not yours.” 

You’d stood up from the chair across from his desk then, trying to hide the distress at the possibility of rarely seeing and never working with him again.

“I.. The team” you quickly corrected yourself, “doesn’t want you to leave. But I think what matters the most is what you want, Hotch. You only get one life. This is your career. This is the path you chose.” You took a deep breath. “Don’t let her choose for you, but you can choose her. We would all understand.”

He stayed. And your relationship had slowly taken a much more tense and strange turn. You were in-sync. Knew each other too well. Your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you. You both noticed the lingering looks, but never said a thing about it. You did everything you always do, together. Especially since his divorce. You shared rooms, meals, notes, just about everything. Your leg was always slightly pressed against his when sitting next to him. His arm was often placed behind you when the two of you were walking somewhere in an unknown environment. Close. You were close.

Yet your relationship had never crossed the line. The meals were usually take out, the rooms had two beds, the time spent together was all under the guise of “work.” Just work. 

And nearly two years since that first fateful night that you met Aaron Hotchner, you were back in the stupid bunny suit.

It was all Derek’s fault, you were convinced. It was his idea, and Emily, Penelope, and Derek all thought it would be funny to put you back in the costume that started it all.

You had to go undercover at a club during a Halloween party. This unsub was a freak, and everyone dressed in costumes certainly didn’t ease your nerves about the whole thing.

Crossing your arms with a huff as you exited the bathroom at the local precinct, you glared at Derek who had picked out the costume. Spencer turned around from whatever he was working on and nearly spit out his water and started coughing.

“Is this necessary? I can’t even carry a gun on me…”

“You wore it undercover before. Come on, Bunny!” You frowned at the use of your nickname. The one you got from the night you first met Derek, Hotch, and Rossi.  “I thought you’d be comfortable in a familiar outfit,” he teased. “Besides, we need you to fit the victimology. Young attractive girls having fun at parties.” While this would certainly be considered harassment in any other unit with any other team, you adored Derek. You couldn’t help but smirk a little bit at his comment.

“You’re such a jerk,” you said unseriously. “Besides, I was pretending to be a worker back then. I couldn’t say no to my boss. You, however, aren’t my boss.”

It was then that Emily and Hotch came into the room, and Emily’s jaw dropped.

“Why do you look so hot!” she exclaimed, dramatically setting the files down on the table in front of her.

“This is the outfit Derek picked for me,” you sighed. “Look familiar?” You did a dramatic turn in front of them, trying to keep your eyes off of Hotch in embarrassment.

“I could never forget,” Hotch shook his head, clearly amused, but he looked tense. You narrowed your eyes at him a bit. 

“I’ll wear it for old times sake, and because I know you guys will actually cover me.”

Derek, Hotch, and Emily went with you to the club. You were in Chicago, and Derek warned you that the parties could get a bit wild. Sitting in the back of the SUV, you couldn’t help but ask. “So, where’s your costumes?”

“Men in Black,” Hotch replied as though it were obvious.

Derek turned to look at you in the back, and pulled a cat ears headband out of nowhere, putting it on his head.

“We match.”

You all entered the club separately, and it wasn’t long until you were trying to fend people off left and right. It was getting difficult, as well. You hadn’t been in a relationship in a long time, and the lack of attention was getting to you. Well, at the very least, this evening showed you that you could still pull off the bunny suit. 

You were being hit on by a very attractive older man, and nearly giving in to his flirting, until something caught your eye. Someone that matched the description of the unsub. You snapped back into reality. Watching the man closely as he moved through the crowd. You apologized to the older man before moving to follow, also trying to find where Hotch and Derek might be, but you couldn’t see them. Despite your heart pounding in your chest, you managed to strike up a conversation with the unsub at the bar. You played the innocent young girl as much as possible, while trying to not seem too conveniently naive. Your goal was now to try and get him out of the club, away from other people. He was more than likely carrying a gun on him, and you knew whatever you were doing was dangerous.

Yet as he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere quieter, feigning that he couldn’t hear what you were saying, you agreed, hoping to appeal to his ego and not raise any alarm. You turned back to the busy club, eyes desperately searching for someone familiar, and you found him. He was up on the second floor, looking right at you. This time, he recognized the look you were giving him, his grip on the railing tightened and he shook his head, discouraging whatever the hell you thought you were about to do. And you didn’t listen. 

“You knew better than to go off and do that,” he scolded harshly, his anger seeping off of him and you felt yourself flinch. It was later that night. After the unsub attacked you in an alley not far from the club, you had managed to take him down without any assistance before Hotch and Derek made it to where you were. This was made much easier by the alcohol you had encouraged him to drink while speaking with him at the bar…

“And what the hell did you think you were doing, flirting ON THE JOB?” his voice rose and filled the hotel room the two of you shared.

“With the unsub?” You asked incredulously. “You asked me to go undercover! I got the guy! We had evidence, he’s in custody! Why are we arguing over this? It doesn’t even matter.”

This had been going on for five minutes already, starting since he shut the door to your shared hotel room. You hadn’t even changed out of the stupid costume as you sat perched on the corner of your bed with your arms crossed. The only part you had taken off were the stupid ears, now left on the nightstand.

“Not with the unsub, you were talking to someone else before. I saw you. What were you thinking?!” 

“I don’t know, maybe that I haven’t been on so much as a date since I started working for the BAU? I got the job done, I don’t know why you’re so mad because I talked to someone who was interested in me for less than a minute!”

“You can’t take going undercover as an opportunity to inflate your ego because you’re lonely.”

You stood up then, in complete shock at the words coming out of his mouth. You didn’t even look him in the eye.

“That was low,” you murmured, suddenly moving around the room to throw your belongings back into your bag.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving.”

“Y/n, wait. Listen to me-”

“No!” you stopped him as he tried to approach you. “Just because you think you know me doesn’t mean you get to throw it in my face. That’s fucking low. I have given up so much for this job, so much for you.”

“I never asked you to give up anything for me.” You zipped your bag and looked up at him. “And I don’t think I know you. I do know you. And if you want me to stop, tell me and I will, but I don’t think you’ll need to.”

“What do you think you’re-“ the end of your sentence broke off in a small yelp as he approached you and quickly had you bent over his lap as he sat on the edge of your bed, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. 

You let out a moan at the sensation, unable to bite it back because of how much he had surprised you.

“Are you familiar with the color system?”

You were reeling from shock, but nodded your head. 

“Words, y/n. I need you to understand how to use it if you want to.”

“Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green is all good.”

“Yes. Color?”

“Green,” you responded readily.

 He kept talking, and kept spanking your ass harshly as he did so.

“Do you have any idea,” slap “how many times I’ve thought about doing this to you?” slap “Even the first god damn time I saw you in this ridiculous outfit,” slap “looking like such a little whore,” slap “I wanted to bend you over my lap just like this. You certainly misbehave enough to deserve it.” 

Your legs were squeezing together as you let out broken moans at the sensation of his large hand spanking you over and over, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second when he suddenly grabbed your face and made you look at him, craning your neck from where you were placed on his lap.

“Is this what you wanted?” You nodded, looking into his eyes. “Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” you managed. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Get on your knees.”

He released you and you slid off of him and onto the floor, kneeling in front of where he sat on the edge of the bed. 

You bit your lip as you tried not to squirm on the floor, waiting for him to unbuckle his belt. He paused before doing so to look at you. Another look asking if you were really okay with this. You smiled at him, nodding, and he swiftly took his length out, causing you to nearly whimper at the size and the look of it. He was rock hard, and the tip was oozing precum. 

Slowly, you leaned in and licked his cock tentatively, before he grabbed your hair and pushed you down on his length eliciting a muffled moan from you as you fought not to choke. He started thrusting into your mouth slowly, and at the sound of his groans you nearly lost it. His voice was already like a drug for you, hearing it in such an erotic state was driving you crazy. So much so that you tried to sneak your hand down and rub against your throbbing clit, desperate for any kind of friction. You only got away with it for a few moments before he noticed, taking his free hand and pulling your arm away.

“What kind of girl gets so drenched just from sucking off her boss’s dick? Hm?” 

He pulled you off of his cock just for a moment, and instead of answering, you just whimpered, pressing your thighs together, and he brought you back down to his cock. He started fucking your mouth again, and you kept moving your hips, grinding into nothing as you desperately sought relief. 

“Are you really that desperate?” He pulled you off again, and you nodded pathetically, spit dripping from your mouth and eyes glazed over. 

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you nodded again. “Please.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On the bed.”

You scrambled off the floor to do as you were told, hurrying over to the closest bed which just so happened to be the one you had claimed during your stay, but he stopped you.

“No,” his voice was quick and firm. “I want you on my bed.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly at his words, making you slightly curious about just how deep his instinct to claim you as “his” went. Happily, you followed his request and quickly found yourself on the other side of the room. Rather than sit and face the wall, you were feeling a little bold, and got on all fours with your ass prominently on display.  

“What a well-behaved bunny,” he mused as he took off his clothes, leaving you twitching and desperate for him, with your neck craning to the side as your cheek was against the duvet. You quietly stared as he unbuttoned his shirt, and quickly got restless when he began to reveal more of his skin.

It felt like forever until he was on the bed behind you, his cock sheathed in a condom and pressing against your still-clothed ass.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.” 

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Do you want to let me use you? Or do you just want to cum?” He asked, his voice in a deep tone and his large hand reaching to caress your neck, gently grabbing your hair between his fingers and guiding your head up to look at him. It felt like an interrogation the way he questioned you, but it drastically increased the tension, and only made you want him more, and he shifted you slightly so your back was now against his chest, firmly in his hold.

“Mm, both.”

He chuckled from behind you. One of his hands was now gripping your breast which was barely hidden. The bodice of the costume relied on flimsy see-through straps to stay up, and he was quick to tear them off, making no more than a quick snapping sound before they were thrown somewhere on the floor. You felt him begin to press kisses to the side of your neck as he pulled the top of the fabric down, revealing your breasts and hungrily kneading them with one hand. With the other, his hand was traveling down your hip and across the front of your thighs before he hooked the fabric that covered your soaked entrance with his finger and moved it to the side. You gasped at the feeling of his hand moving directly against your clit, still impatient to cum even though it was well worth the wait.

 “Damn, you’re perfect.” The praise has you reeling as you rocked against him slightly. He lowered you back to where you had been, on all fours, and you could feel himself lining his cock up with your entrance behind you. “Ready, bunny?”

You nodded, and he easily entered you in a single thrust, no doubt thanks to how absurdly wet you had become. Despite the ease of entrance, the stretch felt brutal, it had you gasping and clutching the bedding under you.

He felt so big, and you hadn’t been fucked in a while. 

“Oh god,” you whimpered. “Sir, you’re so big.”

He let out a groan that had you clenching around his length, and pushing your hips back against him. His thick fingers found your hips and gripped them tightly as he pulled out almost to the tip and slammed back into you. You hadn’t realized how gentle he had started out until he began to pound into you at full force, each thrust making your legs tremble as his length hit the deepest spots inside of you. 

Given that you had already been so worked up from sucking him off, and were still riding the end of an adrenaline high from your work in the field earlier that night, your orgasm was rapidly approaching, only encouraged by the way Aaron had gently caressed any part of your body he could reach with one hand while the other still had a white hot grip on your hips. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to mess with the big bad wolves, bunny?” He murmured in your ear, aware of just how close you were and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back when his large hand found its way to your neck, squeezing gently but enough for you to feel it. Your legs shook uncontrollably as that coil inside you snapped and you let out a broken cry at the intensity of the orgasm washing over you. His movements only faltered slightly, otherwise unaffected by the way your walls had suffocated his cock.

You didn’t have the time or awareness to register just how quickly his movements were, as he pulled out of you, unzipped the back of your costume, quickly tore it entirely off your body, and flipped you over to face him. Your face flushed as you tried to catch your breath.

“Ooh, look at you,” he groaned. “Perfect little bunny.” Despite his mockingly sweet tone, he shoved himself back into you roughly, earning a cry from your lips as your oversensitive pussy took him in once more. The pleasure he was giving you was so intense, doubled by your years-long crush for the man who was giving it to you. You were so sensitive it felt almost cruel, but you didn’t want him to stop. His hand explored your body, gripping your bare hips and squeezing your breasts, putting his hands everywhere he’d never been able to before.

“Please,” you breathed out after a particularly sharp thrust, reaching for one of his hands but struggling to get your bearings enough to get a hold of it.

“Please what, bunny?”

The only response you could give was a drawn-out moan, but at your struggle, he placed a hand in your searching one, and you immediately brought it right to your throat.

“You want me to squeeze or just hold?”

“Hold,” you murmured, blushing that he stopped to check, the moment becoming more tender than either of you had intended. He kept a firm hold around your neck without choking you, just keeping you in place. Showing his power over you.

“You’re such a dirty bunny,” he murmured, resuming his sharp thrusts as you bit your lip to muffle the whines coming from your throat. You could feel how intensely you were pulsing around him, the sight of him over you with his hand around your neck causing your eyes to roll back as he fucked you into oblivion, slowly devolving to a blubbering and begging mess.

“Fuck, please! Please pleaseplease- sir-“ you slurred, hardly aware of anything except him as his cock brushed against every sensitive spot inside of you. While his thrusts had been deep and controlled and measured, your begging seemed to cause his pace to falter.

“Pretty Bunny,” he groaned, “cum again for me, make a mess on my dick.”

Your nails dug into his arms as you let out a cry, an odd deep feeling of relief settling over you as you came again with him buried inside of you, feeling as though all your nerves were on fire. His thrusts were starting to grow more erratic as he stared down at you, watching you as you sunk deeper into bliss, becoming less and less aware of what was around you. 

“Eyes on me, Bunny,” he panted, hand squeezing your throat gently for a moment just to get your attention. Your eyes opened, locking onto his as soon as you comprehended what he had asked, staring up at him  “Fuck, your eyes are so pretty.” Even in your blissed-out state, you hadn’t expected such a genuine compliment, staring at him in wonder as his movements slowed.

“Please, wanna feel you cum in me,” you whined, rocking your hips against him as he moved his hand from your throat to tightly grip your hip, trying to pull you further into him as he slammed into you, letting out a deep groan as he came, spilling into the condom while sheathed inside of you. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of him throbbing, and winced when he slowly began to pull out of you before disposing of the condom and laying next to you, pulling you into his arms. The two of you stayed like that for a long moment after you wiggled your way further into his grasp and laid your head next to his chest. 

“You’re really warm,” you sighed happily, trying to escape the chilly air of the room. He laughed, a sound you rarely heard from him. 

“I was jealous,” he murmured above you. Your mind was still hazy, body feeling heavy but tingly with pleasure.

“Huh?” You managed to question through the fog, eyes opening to look at him.

“When I saw you talking to that guy. I was jealous.”

“Is that why you got so mad?” You teased.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No, but I won’t mind getting reprimanded more often…”

“Greedy,” he smiled. 

You sighed happily. “We really came full circle, didn’t we?”

He nodded. “Took us long enough. Derek has been telling me I need to ask you out since we met at that party two years ago.”

"The bunny girl outfit never fails," you murmured, smiling at him.

"On you? Never."

[n0tamused]

HSR/Genshin characters as dragons

A/n: I feel like this is a bit shorter than my usual dragon posts, I apologize for that. But I also have to say (for my sake at least) that these images of dragons aren't what my finished art looks like. At best I'd call them colored sketches, so please - if you're interested in my finished works, check out my instagram as I have way more concrete examples of my art! <3 Thank you. And if anyone is interested in a c0mission, you can feel free to check the carrd link in bio! They are still open!

Contents: Jing Yuan, Capitano and Aventurine as dragons, x reader, gn reader, tinge of angst, headcanons

Jing Yuan:

-Jing Yuan, although looking really fluffy and soft as he does, is a formidable warrior. He didn’t get to be a General for nothing at all

-His fur does hide a lot away and it does give him a rather gentle appearance, making him a bit easier to approach than your regular dragon. His species specifically wasn’t made for war but rather for more endurance and some more milder things, but Jing Yuan excels in all aspects of his kind and has proven himself worthy of his station during the wars and during more diplomatic events.

-It goes without saying, but this guy is cunning, he has his brains about himself and knows how to play an opponent where necessary, although he does prefer more honorable approaches and would never do anything purely “evil”

-Some wonder how he hasn’t turned brown from how much he loves to bask in the sun in his dragon form. And oftentimes it has happened when someone went to check on him and he was just knocked out in a nap coma, not laying in any shade, just all sun. If he was in his human form he would have been burnt to a crisp

-But there’s something about Jing Yuan’s dragon form that is rather comforting, to both you and honestly anyone else. Everyone knows stories of old kings and leaders of planets and countries that are described as these powerful and frightening individuals that hid their softness for special people in their hearts. Jing Yuan, although powerful, does not evoke fear in his people like those kings from the stories do. His presence does command respect, yes, but people can approach him and talk to him just fine, without any unwarranted fear that he’d reprimand them or punish them for saying anything he may dislike.

-He has a lot of patience with people in general, and all diplomatic meetings he attends go by smoothly

-Jing Yuan doesn’t shy from his dragon form at all, and at times he prefers it when the sun is not as strong, so he can soak up every single ray of sun he possibly can. He has quite the bit yard so he doesn’t lack space either

-Loves to see you cuddle him. Since he is quite big, he does tend to not move much if you decide to hop onto him while he’s sleeping and cuddle him, just in case you find yourself under his claws by some chance. He doesn’t want to crush you. Other times he is rather playful, gentle all throughout, as he picks you up or nudges you with his head. Once he smacked you with that big tail of his, and although it looks mad fluffy that thing does have weight to it alright.. you were knocked into the grass bro

-Older age has turned some of his coat a darker shade and some of those spots also came in later in his life. It is something he doesn’t mind, he is quite fond of his spots

-He lets you do his hair or help him with his armor in dragon form. There are always those small and annoying clasps that are bothersome to put on so he entrusts them to you

-Some of the armor does hide scars from his past battles, but so does his big thick mane. That’s also some of the reasons why people think he doesn’t do much fighting since he always looks so well put together and “clean”(no visible scars) both in human form and in dragon form

-He is also very clean btw, smells fresh. Chef kiss

Capitano:

-His name has only existed in rumors and legends for centuries, and he has long since become some sort of  ghost tale. Some believe this dragon exists, some don’t, some use the stories to scare their children with, others laugh about it..etc

-No one doubts Capitano, the strongest man alive, the first of the Fatui exists, but the question of his dragon form is another matter. Many don’t even believe those are one and the  same, due to the lack of all the proof that the two are correlated 

-Capitano has never admitted to anything either to anyone outside of this Fatui fold, and he never truly had the need to take the form of the ice beast. He is the strongest man in Teyvat, he can do everything in this form without causing too much of a ruckus, he doesn’t need a dragon to wreck more havoc and cause more of a scene yk

-Although in his battle against Mavuika… maybe they both let out their beastly forms yk and they just duked it out a bit until both sustained damage and that fog curtain was blown over them and they retreated

-In his dragon form he is quite cold to the touch, it’s almost like he doesn’t produce much heat at all, and although his breath sometimes smokes and fogs from his nostrils, his scales are never warm. 

-His scales are dense and thick, made for protection and endurance, but they do hinder some of his ability to be flexible

-Don’t be fooled though, although he isn’t the most flexible or speedy dragon around, he is a killer tank, a machine. His claws and teeth can pierce anything and everything, and that tail of his is also something to be wary off. Even if he has his back turned to you that tail seems to possess a mind of its own and lashes about to protect him if someone tries an attack from behind (side note: inspired by an iguanodon, specifically that big claw on his front legs)

-Ice powers of course, he can freeze the ground underneath him and summon ice projectiles, as if he wasn’t a battle beast already 

-This form is quite rare to see, and for a long, long time his darling didn’t even know about it until that battle with Mavuika that brought it out of him

-It was nothing to scoff at or turn your head from. You were worried for him when you heard he was injured, and to know he had pushed himself into his dragon form also speaks great volumes of the intensity of the battle itself

-He doesn’t see it as important even after you expressed your concerns and bafflement after having found out. He just sort of shrugs it off. No big deal 

-His wings look quite heavy, and they are, so he does require quite the run up to take to the skies

-In human form he does have some scales on him, so if you’re cuddled up to him at night you can feel them under your fingertips. Capitano is quite open to your touches, rather relaxed after being with you for so long and these days, your touches often lull him to sleep. He sleeps on his back and sleeps like a log. He usually has an arm around you and the scales on his chest and arms are free to be examined by you

-He is quite scarred, and Capitano is not opposed to telling you how he got which scar. His way of storytelling isn’t exactly rich, it’s straight to the point but not boring

-Sometimes he leaves his tail around when he goes back to his human form, but only if he knows no one will see him, except you. 

Aventurine:

-Although the smallest in the list today, and a smaller stature for his species in general, Aventurine’s strength lies in his head. Due to the rough past he preserved through with luck and cunning, he knows what the world is like and how it operates

-Most people base their judgment on visuals and vocal tones, so Aventurine has gained quite the rep for being flamboyant and extra. Just like he wears so many fancy layers and clothes in his human form, he adorns his dragon form in pretty pearls, gold, rings, scarves, fluff..etc. Everything to show this image of confidence and maybe a bit of cockiness and arrogance

-As the money goat of the IPC, he has to look the part too, no?

-As mentioned before, he knows what a lot of people look at and what they look for, and due to the smaller size of his dragon he is able to walk through most places in that form too, bringing more attention to himself and more opportunities too.

-Of course he has had his fair share of insults directed at him, both in human and dragon form, but he tries not to let it ever show. The dragon form does tend to ward off any truly malicious individuals though, and his status as a Stoneheart has granted him a fair share of protection as well. Not many would dare to strike a Stoneheart.

-By nature he is quite colorful, additionally Aventurine also takes great care and hygiene of his looks. I mean dude probably has his own perfume brand along some others, he smells good and does leave a lasting impression overall

-The only thing he wishes he could get rid of is that branding on his neck. It is there no matter what shape he takes and it is glaringly obvious to anyone that looks at him. He can hide his eyes, but he can’t hide the red letters on his neck that the feathers or his collar fail to cover up. Even after so many years after it happened, the feathers in that spot of his neck never grew back, the tissue being far too scarred to allow any new growth.

-It is the only thing he  could visibly react to when in the presence of someone else. He may huff and puff, try and jest about it before switching topics

-No matter how much he takes care of himself though, he’ll never be able to wash off the blood of his skin and feathers, the blood of his people that died while he survived, then the blood of the master that abused him and kept him chained up.

-His feathers may look glossy, clean, pristine, but if it were up to him, he’d pluck them all out

-In private, if you catch him before he reverts back to his human form, he tends to not let you touch him

-He makes some excuses, that his feathers are too oily, or that they don’t smell good, or that they’re too rough and this and that, and he just goes back to his human form before you can protest against it

-If you really insist he will agree on gifting you a couple of his feathers for keepsake, your pick too. You can use it as an accessory, or maybe house decor - sell it if you want to, he doesn’t mind what you do with it

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @moonlitreveri3 @lexidraws @drowning-in-cabbages @creationsabyss @grimulf-of-the-wilderness @st4rrl1ghtwastaken @the-inquisitive-constellation @voiddance @the-bilkush @fictionally-attached @cheese-enjoyer9471

[yongbokkari]

interrupted ₊˚. ୭̥

𖦹 pairing — bf!seungmin x reader

𖦹 word count — 1.5k+

𖦹 warnings — hurt/comfort, fluff, slight angst, veeeery small misunderstanding, pet names of babe and baby, seungmin had a bad day and accidentally released it on reader 😿🙏🏻🙏🏻

a/n — result of sentences formed on multiple of 3 am-s (also posting this at 3 am), hope you enjoyyy <33 oh and there may be a few like undercase letters lolol we'll see if i am willing to find them

You were resting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, waiting for Seungmin to arrive. As soon as you heard the sound of keys jangling, you immediately got up and opened the door before he could even try to unlock it.

You were standing there, waiting for him to come in, but he judt stared at you as if not expecting to see you. "You're here," he said, his face full of signs of exasperation, tired after a long day at work.

"Am i not supposed to?" You joked, raising your eyebrows. but he just muttered a 'nevermind' before walking past you. "Long day?" you asked, attempting to make conversation with him, in hopes that it could distract him from the tiredness.

"Yeah. Think im gonna shower then take a nap," You had made a joke then, about him getting old and acting like an old man, attempting to lighten his mood. "Whatever," he replied to your jokes, making his way to his bedroom and you followed.

"Ah, come on. Old man can't take a joke anymore?" You giggled, poking at his sides when he just stopped in his tracks and turned to you.

"Can you just stop? I'm already having a bad enough day so you can you please stop bothering me?" He snapped, eyes tired but also glaring at you at the same time.

You were shook by the slight raise and edge to his voice so you couldn't really think of anything to reply to him. A few moments passed with you just staring at him and him you.

"Why are you even here," You heard Seungmin mutter before turning away from you, closing the bedroom door and leaving you alone.

"Right," you said to yourself. "Why am i even here?" it wasn't unusual for you to appear at Seungmin's house at random times, and he even made a spare key for you. But that didn't mean you could just come whenever you wanted to.

You gathered your things and got out of the house to drive yourself home. You weren't mad at him, far from it even. Of course you weren't, you didn't have the right to be.

You were more worried about what he said though. Were you really bothering him? Should you just stop going to his house unannounced again? You probably should. He probably just gave you a key just in case he lost his.

When you got home, you immediately started an assignment that was put on hold for quite long, hoping that it could distract you. It seemed seungmin had wanted some distance and space, so you were set on working on it until he reached out so you'd know when it was okay between you.

˖❁ˎˊ•°.

You were typing away on your laptop, earphones plugged in, slightly bobbing your head to the song playing, when you heard a knock on the door. You yelled, allowing your housemate to come in. Except it wasn't her, and when you turned back you were surprised to see your boyfriend with a frown on his face.

"Min?" You paused the song and took off your earphones, turning around to your boyfriend directly behind you. "Min, what are you doing here?"

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" He asked, ignoring your question. he looked absolutely tired, you wondered if he even got to sleep before coming here.

"Texts? My phone..." You looked around the desk you were working on, searching for your phone, discovering that it was on your bed. So you walked over to pick it up to check your notifications but the screen remained dark as you pressed the power button. "Ah... my battery ran out," You lightly chuckled, looking at Seungmin.

"Why didn't you charge your phone then?" He asked, his facial expression serious. It almost scared you how serious he looked, worrying if he had texted you about something important.

"I didn't notice my battery was low... and i was using my laptop for work, so i didn't check," You gestured to the laptop sitting on the desk. "Did you have something important to tell me? I'm so sorry Min, for not being there, I-" Your words were cut off when seungmin just pulled you in for a hug. You immediately wrapped your arms around his waist.

"So you're not ignoring me?" He asked. Usually, you were the one who had to reach up slightly to hug him since he always insisted on seeing you on the tip of your toes. But this time it was him who lowered his body, tucking his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Min, why would i ignore you?" You asked, genuinely curious as to how he had come to that thought. Then he sighed, as if relieved his worries were only what-ifs afterall. You started to rub his back then, and he had started to give in to your body warmth, almost letting his whole weight fall into your care.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."

You racked your brains for a while, honestly having forgotten about what happened back at his house.

"Oh, that? You don't need to apologize, Min. You were tired, I understand."

"No, it was unreasonable. I shouldn't have let my tiredness out on you," He insisted.

"Then it's fine, I forgive you," you replied, to which he silently thanked you by placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, still not breaking the hug. "But... do you really think so?" He hummed, questioning what you meant. "Do i really bother you?" he slowly pulled away, looking at your face.

"I won't get mad or upset Min, i promise. I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable because of me. So just tell me what you feel, and I'll act on it, I promise." You said, holding his hands in yours, affirming him that whatever his reply was, you were going to be fine and it won't cause even a slight damage to the relationship, if that was what he was worried about.

He only looked at you then, eyes darting from your left eye to the right, back and forth, mouth a bit downturned, and you were starting to get afraid that what you said made him upset when he cradled your left cheek in his hand.

"You're so good to me," he muttered, frown slightly deepening. "No, i didn't mean it, I don't know why I said that," he threw his head back and blew from his mouth, like he always did when he was about to but didn't want to cry.

He hugged you again pressing his nose even more into the crook of your neck, his eyebrows furrowing at his efforts to not cry. "I'm so sorry babe. You'd never be a bother to me, never. I- I love it when you wait for me to come home, I always do, but today I just- Today was so hard that I just-" He choked on his own breath so you pat his back, trying to get him to calm down. After gaining a steady breathing again, he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"Well... A bit, but I knew you would never say that without a reason. My sweet boy would never," You chuckled, your hands patting his head, your fingers going through his hair.

He pulled away, meeting your eyes. "I'm so sorry," His eyes were slightly red, the bags under his eyes more prominent now you were seeing them upclose.

"Don't cry, Min, it's okay," You wiped the tears stained on his cheeks, caressing his under eyes. "Did you get any sleep? You look tired, my poor baby," You coo, trying to lighten the mood.

He shook his head. "I couldn't. Was thinking of you," Your heart ached at his soft eyes looking at yours like a puppy lost.

"Oh baby," He leaned into your hand that was cradling his cheek. "Should we get some now? Hm?" When he nodded, you continued, "You go lay down first, I'll go turn off my laptop."

As soon as you reached the bed, Seungmin took you in his arms, your head resting on his chest while one of his hands was on your waist, the other in your hair. Yours were wrapped tightly around his waist, melting into his warm embrace, contrast to your cold skin.

Suddenly he took one of your hands, his thumb caressing the back of it. "Thank you, Y/n, for always thinking of me... I love you."

You raised your head to look at him. "I love you too, Min." You pecked his lips, smiling softly, before laying your head atop his chest again. "Now sleep. Who should I look at after this if you really do turn into an old man?"

He lightly chuckled, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, as you slowly drift into sleep, hand in hand.

Seungmin wanted to show you how in love with you he was. Everything about you he adored and cherished and he was always on the verge of combusting from how much love for you he contains. Maybe someday that day will come, but for now he'll slowly take small steps into making that moment come true.

[batsycline69]

Chapter One: Head Above Ground, Feet in the Grave

Summary: You get a tattoo from Jason and realize your first impression may not have been spot on

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Words: 5,576

Warnings: needles, profanity, canon-typical violence, reader has tattoos but is otherwise not described, jason doesn’t know how to flirt.

SERIES MASTERPOST | NEXT

“So. Whatcha reading?” he asks over the buzz of his needle gun. Your confused look is enough get him talking again. “Saw you with a book out front.”

As soon as he stepped out into the front thirty-five minutes after your appointment was supposed to begin, as peeved as you were, you couldn’t deny he was attractive. One of his broad shoulders leaned into the wall, his thick, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Dark curls with a patch of white at the front.

“Oh, it’s Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier,” you reply, a little surprised the guy built like a brick shithouse was asking about your reading. Then again, he’s probably just trying to make conversation.

Jason just nods.

Maybe he isn’t trying to make conversation.

The bad news is, up close, he’s even more handsome. Now you can see the little scar that angles through his eyebrow and another that curves up along his cheek. His eyes are intense as he works, his absurdly large hand has a firm grip on your forearm, guiding you as he works. He smells like cigarettes, but only just, and what you can assume is the lingering smell of the timeworn leather jacket sprawled across the chair in the corner. And all of this is bad news because this guy is obviously bad news. How can he not be, right?

It’s just this feeling, one that you couldn’t shake as soon as he sauntered towards you, the smell of cigarette smoke lingering on his worn black t-shirt. Like he’s too cool for you. Even as he’s permanently etching a skeletal bird into your arm, there’s this air about him you can’t quite place.

Before he led you back to his station, you were so certain there was going to be some sort of bikini-clad model plastered to the wall. But yet, the space is surprisingly empty. There’s a little corkboard leaning against a small table with old designs thumb-tacked to the board and not much else.

“How long have you been working here?” you ask.

Despite asking, you already kind of know the answer.

You’ve been following the shop’s Instagram for a while now. You remember the post introducing Jason, the carousel of photos demonstrating his work. Not that you’d tell him right now, but you had fallen in love with his style as soon as you saw it. The sure, thick lines. The moody shading. Bones and knives and bugs. He had no Instagram of his own for his work that you could find; only the posts in the shop with the caption ‘by Jay.’

“Couple months,” Jason replies. “I was traveling around for a while before. This is the first steady place I’ve worked.”

“Oh, wow, that’s cool. Where were you before?” you ask. It’s small talk, and you hate it, but the lack of conversation is uncomfortable in a way that usually isn’t the case. Silence doesn’t bother you. His silence does.

You wonder if his home lacks as much personality as his station. You imagine his apartment is the kind with the mattress sitting on the floor, TV on top of a folding table, and a refrigerator full of cheap beer. Something that doesn’t feel completely moved into.

He gives a small shrug of his broad shoulders. “All around,” he replies.

Even small talk seems to be off the table.

You give a curt nod of your head. A couple minutes pass, and you can’t take it anymore. “Sorry, you mind if I grab my book real fast?”

Jason nods in return, pulling the gun away. “Go for it.”

God, you feel him watching you as you slip off the table, heading towards your bag on the little couch in the corner. Why is he watching? Why is this so awkward? Is it you? Is this guy just that standoffish? You pull out your worn bookand get back into position on the table.

“You good?” he asks, his intense eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah, all good,” you say, holding the book open with one hand as the buzzing starts back up again.

This is pathetic.

Jason has spent the last few years spending his time around the worst of the worst. He’s been with assassins, arms dealers, and soldiers so bad, even the U.S. Military didn’t want them, and yet, he’s fumbling just because someone cute is reading classic literature.

Fuck.

He’s supposed to be better than this. Ever since he got back into Gotham two months ago, he’s been making deals with the worst of the worst—as far as drug dealers go—without breaking a sweat, and yet holding a conversation with you turns him into Mr. Darcy. He’s blowing it, and he cares that he’s blowing it.

At least everyone thinks he’s dead. If this had gotten out to anyone, he’d die again.

It’s been five years since he was resurrected. A couple of weeks have passed since he flew back into Gotham with another one of Talia’s connections, this time intending to stay for good. He found a little tattoo shop near Crime Alley. Close enough to keep tabs on everything, but not so close that he’d be crossing paths with Batman regularly. The last thing he needs is to run into Bruce while trying to come up on top of Gotham’s underworld. Not until everything was ready.

That’s his world. Swept off the street and recruited for a war that wasn’t even his, not really. That’s just what he was sold: security to a kid fending for himself.

Bruce may have believed he had something to show Jason about Gotham, but this city raised him more than anything. Without a stable place to call home, the city’s streets were the substitute. What more did Bruce have to teach him when Jason had already huddled for warmth in these alleys? Ran from cops, knew all the hiding spots. What did Bruce have to offer when Jason already saught comfort in a place where comfort died? In a place where hope was trying to grow on salted earth. A place so haunted, it’s more ghost than city.

Jason was made for Gotham.

After he died, Gotham fell to ruins in the greatest earthquake she’s ever seen. An anomaly. The world wanted to watch Gotham burn, abandon the city and everyone remaining inside it. Leave her buried in the fate the world deemed appropriate for a city so infected that everyone around suffered.

He knows what it means to come back again, maybe when staying gone was what should have been done.

While he learned how to kill, he learned how to tattoo. Bruce always went on about the importance of keeping their identities safe; he chose his playboy routine, and Jason chose this.

It started before Bruce even took him in. One of the older kids he used to sell stolen car parts to gave him a stick ‘n poke in the back of his dad’s auto shop. It’d only been a few weeks after his mom died. Bruce saw it within a few days of living at the manor. He didn’t comment, but Jason saw the scowl when Bruce saw the shitty skull on his ankle. He didn’t approve, and that made his chosen path all the sweeter.

In London, the guys he was staying with tattooed each other to pass the time. That’s how it all really started. He watched their hands as they worked, watched the way the ink shot into the skin. He gave his first tattoo in the seedy back room of some haunt for scumbags. He had yet to feel at home within his body again, like it was just on loan. Like his reanimation was contingent on something that could be taken away at any time.

But he kept living. And he picked up tattooing fairly quickly. He gave plenty of shitty tattoos to men whose lives ran off of fucking over innocent people. Some of them wouldn’t even live to regret his uneven lines. A good number of them, Jason watched die.

None of that, however, negates the fact that he still can’t have a conversation with you.

Every so often, he spares a glance at you as you read. You’re holding the book with one hand, awkwardly turning the page with your pinky in a way that he knows won’t last long. He’s trying to rack his brain for something, anything, to talk to you about once you need a break from your position.

When his moment finally comes, he clears his throat.

“You ever read any Virginia Woolf?” he asks.

He’s going to spoil his whole ‘asshole tattoo artist’ persona because he’s not supposed to be reading tragic modernist writers, but he can’t bring himself to fall into his usual routine. He wants to hide behind the metaphorical mask he wears when he’s not wearing his literal mask, but he just fucking can’t with you.

He doesn’t know you. You’re just someone who booked with him a few months ago. You’re a civilian, and he is supposed to be getting ready for his Gotham takeover. Now isn’t the time. He’s got work to do.

Unsurprisingly, you seem caught off guard by his question when you look up from your book. You try to regain your composure. You seem like someone who wants to be polite like that. Jason’s eyes land on your finger as it slips into your book to hold your place.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve read a couple of hers.”

Jason gives a single nod of his head. He breathes as if steadying his aim to shoot. “I’m reading Mrs. Dalloway right now,” he says.

If you were someone he had to threaten, it would be going better than this. He could get you to tell him all of your secrets in under a minute no problem. But he doesn’t actually have to know how to do any of this to know that’s the wrong way to go about it. Besides, how could he forgive himself if he brought you into Red Hood’s world? You don’t belong there.

“Are you much of a reader then?” you ask.

Jason recognizes it for what it is. You’re holding out a hand, practically guiding him into a conversation just like you’ve tried so many times. You notice he’s trying too.

His lip quirks up a bit at the corner. “Yeah, I am. But don’t tell anyone. If they figure out I’m not an idiot, they may ask me to help out more.”

You graciously laugh at his joke.

He likes your laugh. It’s soft, like your skin. He’s tried to not think about it, but he has noticed. He knows you’re going to take good care of the bird carcass he’s tattooing.

When you reached out and told him what you wanted, he knew he couldn’t possibly turn the idea down. He did always have a fucked up sense of humor.

You’ll never know what makes this funny. He can’t do that to you. Maybe you can know Jason the tattoo artist, but you can’t know Red Hood.

Jason looks at you with a softness you miss when you glance away for a minute. “I’ve got a Metamorphosis tattoo over here,” he says, briefly raising the arm holding yours down.

You turn your head, trying to get a look of his Kafka tattoo, and Jason feels a little bit of warmth growing in his chest, even if he desperately wishes he didn’t. He’s getting way ahead of himself like a kid. It’s going to hurt that much more when you realize all the reasons you shouldn’t get involved with him. He shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself. He shouldn’t be getting distracted. This job isn’t for him to make connections with avid readers; he’s here to know what’s happening and when.

For all he knows, you could be a spy, aware of the moves he’s trying to make. Could work for the Penguin. But he’s aware that’s a Bruce level paranoid thought, and he’s not proud to admit that. His ties to Bruce are supposed to be severed forever.

Two hours pass far less painfully than you were expecting. Not in the literal sense, because your arm has started to get sore, but in the sense that you and Jason are finally actually talking, more or less. You take a break, trying to get the blood flow back into your arm from being at an angle for so long.

Your stomach started rumbling half an hour ago, and now you’re scrolling through your phone, chatting with Jason on what you should order. He says by the time food would get here, he’d likely be finished up.

Jason’s already told you he doesn’t do a lot of delivery. He says it’s because things are always fresher at the restaurant.

After the last couple of hours spent talking literature, you know your first impression of him was wrong—there’s a joke about books and their covers somewhere in there—but be that as it may, you still haven’t quite figured him as the sort of guy that’s going to be overly snobby about food.

He says he cooks, and you believe him, more because you like to indulge in the thought of him knowing his way around a kitchen. You also just want to believe it for the sake of justifying the crush you feel creeping in every time he shifts your arm.

You’re not going to hold your breath hoping he opens up to you, but you can tell he’s someone with a story. Someone with history. And that’s something you can respect, because you’ve got your own past you’d rather not shell out just because your tattoo artist is hot. That doesn’t stop your mind from wandering though, trying to fill in the blanks.

Maybe he did some sort of stint in the military. That’s your first guess, at least. You didn’t get any more information on the tattoos he’d done ‘all over,’ and he doesn’t talk about it anymore, so you can’t really figure out anything more than that. You also consider the fact that it’s Gotham, and shit just happens. It’s not your right to meddle in whatever tragedy this city has doled out for him.

“One of the apprentices orders delivery here a lot,” Jason says, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s not helpful, nor does it answer my question,” you say. “Even if you don’t get things delivered, you still have to know what’s good around here, right? You’re not bringing a little brown bag lunch to work every day.”

“And what if I do?” Jason asks. His voice is low, almost like he’s daring you. The features on his handsome face are serious, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that hints he’s teasing you. And damn those eyes. You’re thankful he’s been spending the majority of your appointment staring down at your arm, because you’re not sure you’d survive two hours of looking at him, seeing where the thin ring of blue around his iris before it bleeds into vivid green.

You laugh. “Then I’d admire your dedication.”

You think he’s mostly being difficult because you offered to buy him food, a perfectly normal thing to do. But explaining to him that you’ve offered to everyone you’ve gotten a tattoo from doesn’t seem to change his mind. He’s stubborn, that much you can tell.

As you continue to scroll your phone, silence settles between the two of you. The silence doesn’t feel so oppressive this time, not weighted by awkwardness and uncertainty. Now it feels like a surrender. Neither of you bring up the beginning of the appointment. Not how he was late, not the tension that seemed to linger between the two of you, not how convinced you were that he actually hated the fact that you were sitting in his session.

“The fries at Wally’s are the best in Gotham.”

His voice comes from behind you, and you jump, turning over your shoulder quickly. He’s peering over your shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone. You hadn’t even heard him get up from his stool. Last you’d looked his way, he was sitting across from you.

You spit out a curse. “When did you get back there?” you ask, clutching your chest with overdramatic flair.

“What, you didn’t see me get up?” he asks.

You scoff. “No, I didn’t see you get up. What are you, some kind of fucking ghost?”

And Jason laughs.

At the best of the times, you consider yourself a relatively dignified individual. Maybe it’s a bit of flattery, but regardless, that’s what you’d like to believe. And yet, there’s something so incredibly rare about the sound of Jason’s laughter, something that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. It’s like hearing something long forgotten. Like catching the song of a bird long thought extinct. This isn’t the playful scoff of laughter like when you’d said maybe Northanger Abbey was your favorite Jane Austen book, and he’d said you seemed more like an Elizabeth Bennett than a Catherine Morland; this seems like something secret. Something reserved.

Even if the sound makes your stomach flip, your foul language hardly seems funny enough to warrant such a laugh. Your silly off-handed joke doesn’t seem worthy of the burst of laughter that bubbles up from his wide chest.

“I think the hunger’s getting to you,” Jason replies finally when the laughter settles. He nudges his head back towards your phone to get back on topic. “Wally’s is good.”

You have to yank yourself from your thoughts and will yourself to nod. “Yeah, okay,” you say, feeling like such a loser for the way a single laugh could knock you off your track so quickly. You go back to scrolling through the menu to give yourself something other than gawk at him. “So fries. What else is good?” you ask, not daring to raise your eyes.

Jason crosses back over to his stool and sits. Your face gets hot as you feel self-consciousness creep up thinking maybe you’d been obvious, worried you’ll scare him off. But before you know it, he’s naming off his favorite things. And yeah, maybe you bought more than you alone could eat, and maybe you got the burger he spent a few minutes gushing about. If he doesn’t want it now, he can save it for later.

But nearly an hour later, you have a whole spread of junk food in Jason’s station and a finished bird skeleton plastic wrapped on your arm. Jason rolls his eyes at your generosity, and you threaten to eat everything you bought all by yourself, but he eats the burger and steals the fries you jokingly told him to keep his hands off of.

“So can I ask why you were so late?” you ask.

You’re toeing your boundaries. Maybe you’re intentionally trying to press your luck. Part of you knows you maybe shouldn’t ask. But you do it anyway.

Jason looks up from his burger, wiping a small smear of ketchup off his lip. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” He smirks when he sees you quirk your eyebrow. He was thirty-five minutes late; of course you already think he’s an asshole. At least he’s a good sport about it. “I was out smoking.”

“Mm,” you say with a mockingly serious nod of your head. “Leaning up against a wall, cigarette in one hand, Mrs. Dalloway in the other. I guess you must be so cool I have to immediately forgive you,” you say sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

You smirk and go back to eating your food, unaware of Jason’s subtle gaze your way now that your attention has been diverted.

Jason’s used to a somewhat infrequent eating schedule, otherwise known as he rolls out of bed half an hour before he’s supposed to be at the shop, which doesn’t give him much time to eat. And by the time he’s done with his shift, he’s usually starved. He tries to eat an hour before kicking anyone’s ass so he doesn’t cramp up, so that involves him cramming whatever leftovers he has in the fridge into his mouth the second he gets back to his apartment. Then, he goes back out to work.

He’s become somewhat of a late night chef, putting together whatever he can make as quickly and easily as possible. The sort of skills he’d picked up when he was all on his own, trying to keep himself fed from whatever was available, doing whatever he could to make the best of a bad situation. Shoplifting butter and pasta, crushing up old Corn Flakes in a bag with a hammer to put on top. It was something his mom had done. Something he didn’t want to give up.

For the past two hours, he’s been hoping you’ll say something stupid, like how cool you think Batman is.Instead, he finds you kind in a way he doesn’t really see that often. You tolerate his shit to a certain point, and you push back when he goes too far.

People are scared of Jason, hood on or not. And they should be. They see his scars, his tattoos, his sheer size, and they cross the street. They turn their eyes as he buys bread at the grocery store. They can see him for what he is. But for some reason, you don’t. At least not now.

He’s mapping out his plan of how to take over the city, and you’re giving him shit for being late to an appointment for a job he only has for information. The fact that he met you is just a blip in the greater scheme of things, and yet that’s going to be what he walks away from today thinking about.

A guy came into the shop earlier. A local dealer. Jason played cool, pretended he didn’t have an idea who the guy was. This lowlife didn’t need to know Jason already knew where he picked up his supplies. He’d asked if the guy had any plans for the day, as if Jason didn’t already know about a shipment coming in late tonight. Jason’s plans for the evening had been clear. All he had to do was get through one more appointment.

Except that appointment had been yours.

The shop is closed now. A few stations away, one of Jason’s coworkers is still working. In the lull as you both eat, the faint buzzing of the needle and music playing from the speakers up front. Even if Jason wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s comfortable with you, there’s something of a surrender in the time you spend together.

You don’t know the things he’s going to do once you leave, and you wouldn’t assume them of him. What are you seeing in him because it’s sure as shit not something he’s ever seen himself.

At some point, Jason knows he’s going to fuck it all up. You’ll probably get ready to leave, and he’ll say something as you walk out the door that will make you question all of this. Make you second guess this good opinion of him you’ve managed to come up with. It’ll be for your own good.

His eyes drift over to your arm, your bicep still wrapped up in plastic. He can still feel the warmth of your skin lingering on his palm.

For so long, he’d been used to the dull cold of the apartment he squatted in, frigid air seeping in through neglected walls. As hard as he tries not to, he remembers arriving at Wayne Manor for the first time. He’d forgotten home could be so warm.

The warmth of your arm felt like that.

Since coming back in Gotham, he’d given plenty of tattoos, touched plenty of arms. Body heat is body heat, except when it’s yours.

“Where do you go from here?” Jason asks, looking up from his burger.

You shrug your shoulders. “Home, probably. Gonna get that good post-tattoo sleep.”

It’s cold out. You’re bundled up in your coat, aware of the tenderness of your arm where the fabric brushes up against the flesh.

You’re walking towards your train stop. The sounds of sirens echo somewhere in the distance. Purple light filters out through the blinds of one of the apartments you pass, loud bass temporarily overpowering the distant wail of emergency vehicles for a moment as you walk by, until it fizzles back out into quiet. As the music fades, you hear the sound of a couple arguing from an apartment somewhere up above you.

Across from the stairs up to the station is a bar, patrons hanging around outside smoking cigarettes and laughing. You can feel a huddle of men watching you as you move, but you don’t glance their way, just make your way up the stairs.

Yellow-tinged lights line the station, a lamp every fifteen feet or so. From what you can see in the beams of light weakly dispersing from the streetlamps, you’re alone. You find a spot under a nice shelter, though nice is relative considering the lingering smell of piss and obscene graffiti on the walls, but it’s not out in the open where anyone stumbling onto the stop will find you.

The light above you flickers sporadically. You wish there was somewhere else you could wait.

Jason hadn’t seemed thrilled that you were going out to wait for the train all on your own, but you assured him, somewhat indignant, you could handle yourself.

“You sat really well,” he’d said, and you couldn’t help but entertain the idea of inviting him along on the train with you, but you were not going to stoop to that level.

The sounds of approaching footsteps reminds you to keep your focus. You can kick your feet about Jason once you get back to your apartment.

Three guys stumble up the stairs. And just your fucking luck, you’re pretty sure they’re the guys from outside the bar. They’re laughing, and their voices carry from the opposite side of the tracks. You hope they’re going northbound, that they’ll have no reason to cross the tracks. You keep your eyes fixed away from them, down the tracks, now feeling even more impatient for the arrival your train, hoping somehow it will turn you invisible.

But their boisterous conversation suddenly turns much quieter.

Your shoulders tense, and as subtly as you can, you try to slip your hand into your bag for your pepper spray. Blindly, you feel around, trying to move as little as possible so as to not draw any more attention to yourself, because you have no doubts you’re the reason their conversation has become so hushed. If this doesn’t end horribly, you’ll have to try to remember to clear out all of the junk you have stashed away.

One of the men laughs, and then their conversation stops all together.

Your fingers curl around the tube of spray in your purse.

Without looking, you know they’re moving towards you now. Their shuffled, stumbling footsteps are growing louder. They’re drunk and not looking for their night to be over just yet. Unfortunately, you just happened to be in their way while they were looking for the next phase of the evening.

“Hey!” one yells.

You don’t acknowledge him. Maybe they’ll be drunk enough to think you genuinely can’t hear them and give up. It’s wishful thinking, but what does that matter?

Now you’re regretting pretending you were so tough for Jason because these guys sure as shit wouldn’t even give you a second glance if you were standing next to him.

They’ve crossed the tracks now, and there’s still no sign of train headlights. Your grip on the pepper spray tightens, not wanting it to slip now that your heart is starting to race.

“Hey! You!”

You don’t look.

One of them grabs your arm and tugs you out from the shelter. You wince at the contact against the fresh tattoo. “We’re talking to you,” he laughs.

You’re about to use your pepper spray when it clatters to the ground.

All three men look down at it.

“What’s this?” the second man says, bending down and picking it up.

But before any of them can say anything else, a figure just outside of the ring of light the four of you are standing under. You can’t make out any details about him besides the sheer size of him.

“Walk away while you still can,” he growls. The sound of his voice isn’t quite right. It sounds distorted. Your skin prickles with nerves from the sound of it.

The man who picked up your pepper spray turns it towards the figure, threatening to spray.

The figure just chuckles. It sounds cold, metallic. The sound of a gun cocking follows as the figure steps just into the light. The pepper spray wouldn’t do the man any good.

A man wearing a red helmet walks into sight, gun trained on the man holding my arm, but his grip drops instantaneously as he knocks through his other two friends to run, but the other two follow behind almost immediately.

And that leaves you and the guy in the helmet alone.

Gotham has its fill of guys in mask, and sure, there seems to be a new one popping up all the time, but you don’t know this one.

You look up at him, eyes wide with fright. The second the men are gone, he puts the gun back in one of the holsters on his thick thighs, but that doesn’t change the fact that he has them. You don’t know who this guy is, who he works with, whether he’s any better than that group of men or just more armed.

“You alright?” he asks when you don’t say anything. He has a voice modifier, you realize now, though you piece that together slowly.

After a beat, you nod your head. Your hand curls over your throbbing arm. You don’t like that you can’t see where he’s looking. Just two unblinking white voids where his eyes must be. “Yeah,” you breathe. Your eyes fall on your pepper spray. The man holding it must have dropped it when he ran.

When it’s clear you’re not moving to pick it up, the man bends down and grabs it. He holds out a gloved hand, offering it back to you.

Your trembling hand raises and you take it from him, offering a barely audible thanks as you slip it back into your bag.

He nods.

There’s still no sign of a train, and he’s not moving.

“I can give you a ride someplace. If you want.”

Don’t take rides from strangers. You’d heard it just as much as anyone, and the man standing before you is the definition of a stranger. You can’t even see his face; you have no idea who he is beneath that helmet. The one thing you do know is he has a gun, and he’s built like a fridge.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds, but his modulated reassurances don’t ease your concern. He senses your hesitation and takes a step back. “Do you want me to leave?”

A few more seconds pass as you consider the question. What if those guys come back? What if some other group comes along? But is giving your home address to the guy with a gun a better idea? And would him standing beside you as you wait for your train make you feel any safer? Could you so willingly accept he wasn’t going to just wait for the moment your guard is down to do something, just the way this city works?

Finally, you shake your head. Neither decision seems like the right one to make. But he did help you. Now you just have to hope to god he’s not going to take advantage of your vulnerability.

You want to ask if he’s one of Batman’s friends, but you don’t find the words.

Instead, you two fall into a silence. For you, it’s tense. You wonder if he feels the same, or if this is just a regular night for him. He stands near you but keeps his distance, like he’s aware how intimidating he could be.

The train is so late. There must be some hold up. One of Gotham’s usuals causing a delay in public transit. Go fucking figure.

“Are you new?” you ask finally. If the train never comes, you might end up taking him up on his offer for a ride, so you may as well try and figure something out about him. Any sort of indication of if you can trust him or not.

There’s another distorted chuckle, though somehow, this one seems less malicious than earlier when threatened with your pepper spray. “You could say that.”

You have no idea how to respond to that, so you don’t.

Silence settles between you again. You can see the lights of the train in the distance. You’re hoping that nothing happens on the train. All you want is to crash into your bed.

The man in the red helmet stands beside you, not pushing any further to make conversation. He waits with you. As it screeches to a halt in front of you, you turn to thank him, but you notice he’s already gone.

NEXT

[soaringwide]

PAC: What are their current feelings for you?

+ EXCLUSIVE EXTENDED KO-FI READING: Where is this connection headed?

hey :p

I like to do a blend of different types of tarot readings, and I realized I haven't done romantic readings in a while! So today's pick a card is meant to look into your person's current feelings for you.

I will keep this open for any level of closeness, as long as the person [I don't gender you or your person] has a minimum of a bond with you. Also, it is aimed for romantic connections so keep that in mind in case that's not something that's relevant to you.

If you find a pile that resonates, there is an exclusive reading ''Where is this connection headed'' available on ko-fi for members only. You can find more information on this post (or directly on ko-fi).

book a reading ★ ko-fi membership ★ all free PACs ★ pinned post ★ IG

PILE 1

Current energies: 8 of Cups, Seeking Pleasure, 10 of Cups

Currently, I think you are trying to let go of this specific connection. It seems you have been through a lot, and you reached a point where enough was enough, and you refused to take it any longer and decided to try to detach yourself from it.

However, i do think there are still some regrets about what could have been. It's like you're mourning the potential of what this connection could be or could have been, and you're wondering if you're not leaving behind something that could be your ultimate happiness. Many doubts and also perhaps a lack of trust of what else could bring you happiness that is making you cling onto this connection. So yeah, you're a bit stuck between a rock and a hard place at the moment, wanting to move on but also doubting a lot and not closing the door completely. I feel you quite worried and what ifs are swirling in my head. What if you made a mistake? What if you couldn't find something else that was better? What if you regretted it all your life?

Their feelings: 9 of Cups, 2 of Swords, 6 of Cups, 9 of Swords, 10 of Swords, Sweet Surrender, The Game of Love, Standing Alone

Their feelings are quite interesting. I see them currently quite stuck. With the 9 of Cups, on one hand they know they could get a lot of fulfillment from this relationship, but also, they are refusing or unable to surrender to it. All figures in this specific section are sitting, not acting one way or the other. They don't feel like they can do much and it's possible they don't know what they could do. Its like they desire coming towards you but they are not acting on it at all. I think there is an element of taboo in this connection. Perhaps they don't think you two are a good fit/you are too different in one way or another, and it's holding them back, or there is someone else in the picture… but in any case they are controlling themselves so much that it reached a point of complete immobility.

But simultaneously, they keep remembering the moments you had together like it was some type of game that only included the two of you. Like your own secret thing. It seems they miss that. They may be feeling over-burdened by something at the moment and they keep daydreaming about an escape. Its quite dreamy and not very grounded in reality I think. Like they are stuck in their head about this connection.

However, they seem to be feeling crushed to be left behind. It's a mix of worry and feeling like they fucked up terribly. They don't want to be left alone. But then again are they doing anything to hold you back? Not really. While you seemed to worry of what could be lost as a possibility, this person just feels the lack of you but is taking it as a total defeat, something they have no control over and can't change. I also feel like there are a lot of things they want to say, but for some reason they are holding back and I get the feeling that perhaps they think it's too late to say those things. They feel quite hopeless that's for sure.

Extended reading on my ko-fi membership-only page

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PILE 2

Current energies: Page of Cups, Page of Wands, Knight of Cups, a Loving Gaze

You are currently really into someone and I feel it's in the early stages of the relationship, and seduction is showing up quite strongly. You are focused on mesmerizing them, watching them closely and trying to appear as your most beautiful self. Exchange of glances might be important, or just trying to get their attention by looking at them intensely. Some of you might be into glamour magic or use beauty practices in a somewhat ritualistic way.

I think you are very passionate about this person and feeling motivated, excited and adventurous, so after spending some time watching them so much, you are intending to approach them romantically with an offer, as shown by the Knight of Cups. What this offer is will depend for everyone, but it might be a date for some of you or simple just getting closer to them, asking their number or sticking up a conversation.

The overall energy is full of expectation, a love in the blooming stage, and I feel light and giddy. :)

Their feelings for you: Full Intimacy, Queen of Wands, Ace of Swords, Wheel of Fortune, 8 of Swords, the Fool

Okay so in the oracle card, the idea of gazes shows up again, so they definitely noticed you watching them and if you both locked eyes with each other it definitely had an effect! They feel a connection with you which makes them feel curious and optimistic about what could be. There is some desire as well.

With the Ace of Swords, there is a desire for communication as well. They wish to understand things better because I think they have some fear of rejections and looking like an idiot if the situation happened to be all in their head, so they need some reassurance because right now they might be overthinking and seeing the situation worse than it actually is.

So they are in a spot to want change and movement, ready to be surprised. I don't think they would take the initiative but they seem to be in an open and receptive place if you decide to make a move.

Extended reading on my ko-fi membership-only page

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PILE 3

Current energies: Queen of Pentacles, the Sun, Loving Yourself, King of Pentacles

Your current energy is all about focusing on yourself. It seems you are embracing your own light at the moment and nurturing your sense of self-love. So this is interesting because I see you refusing to compromise your well being and your inner balance for anyone, despite this being a reading about a connection, which I find so beautiful for you, Pile 3!

I think you are quite mature, not necessarily in age but at least in personality, or you're going through a phase where you're building this strong loving foundation for yourself.

And I think you're trying to attract someone who can be the King of Pentacles to your Queen of Pentacles (both showed up here). Someone who is secure and abundant for themselves and who can bring something valuable to your life without compromising your independence and own abundance.

Lastly, I also think you are focused on what brings you joy, what makes you feel happy and carefree and you really don't want to waste any energy on a connection that makes you feel anything but that.

Their feelings for you: Knight of Wands, 7 of Swords, the Star, Temperance, 4 of Wands, Doubt and Indecision, Memories and Remembrance

So it seems this person is seeing you as this powerful, whole and perfect person, Pile 3. You seem emotionally fulfilled to them, free and beautiful. I really get the sense that they are mesmerized by you.

I think this person is a friend you've known for a long time and who you have shared memories with. Someone who you shared laughter and celebrations or parties with, or at least had a lot of fun with. It seems your connection is very beneficial to them, makes them feel at ease, balanced, and perhaps even inspired if they are a creative soul.

Now, with the Knight of Wands, I definitely think they are attracted to you beyond just friendship, however, there are a lot of doubts here due to the fear to ruin what you have, because you seem so self sufficient and focused on yourself that they doubt you would be interested in them, and it makes them feel like their attraction for you is wrong and could lead to harm for the friendship.

I also think that your self confidence might highlight a bit on their own lack of it. Not to say that they aren't confident at all, they may very well appear confident around you, but since they see you so highly, they see themselves as a bit less in comparison and they again don't know if you would consider them romantically at all.

Extended reading on my ko-fi membership-only page

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[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

[kai-anderson-whore]

The summoning (jmp x tate Langdon x reader smut)

Summary: you had always been fascinated with serial killers and true crime, one day you decided to try and summon your two favourite killers

Warnings: smut, three way, oral (tate receiving), p in v sex, doggy style 😏, summoning a ghost, ouija board,

Word count: 1,3k (another short one it was supposed to be longer)

A/n: this is a request by @villains-are-hot, thank you for the request and once again I apologise that it was very rushed at the end and I took ages to post this 😊

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

For as long as you could remember you had a unhealthy obsession with true crime/ serial killers. Some may say it's far from normal, it was frightening. You knew stories of cases watched all the documentaries and more.

Some people say it's the type of obsession you hear killers having before they kill. You didn't care it was a interest that you were so passionate about. You preferred learning about serial killers, how their mind works, what drove them to do it. The ones you liked learning about the most was Tate Langdon who got shot dead in his bedroom after shooting up his school one day in 1994. And the other was James Patrick march a well known serial killer from the 1920s to the early 1930s. Legend has it they both still reside in their place of death.

You didn't know if that was true or not, you visited the hotel that James Patrick march resides in but nothing, you couldn't exactly go to the murder house since people live there. It intrigued you deeply, the thought it could be true or not.

You didn't know what you were doing when the idea popped into your head, you thought it won't work but it was worth a go. Now researching things to do, how to summon ghosts, some where a bit far fetched others seemed fake but you were willing nonetheless. Finding a method writing down everything that had to be done.

You sat in front of the oujia board your fingers delicately on the triangle piece. You took deep breaths trying to stay calm circling the board three times before saying "James Patrick march and Tate Langdon I invite you to this space" waiting a few seconds you felt eerily quiet and cold.

"Is there anyone here?" You asked the board, you felt something pushing the triangle to yes, you gasped in shock now feeling nervous but your fingers still remain on the piece. "How many sprits are here?" You then asked feeling uneasy slightly regretting your decision. The piece moved to the number 2 you didn't know if it was you or if it was actually two spirits here but you slowly asked your next question "w-who are you?".

The board moved to around spelling out two initials JMP and TL you gasped removing your hands from the board standing up. Completely forgetting to say goodbye. You immediately grabbed the board putting it away "what the fuck, it's probably me doing it it's got to be" you whispered to yourself.

"Not quite dear" a voice chimed making you yelp in fright. "What the fuck!?" You turned around seeing two guys there awfully familiar to you, they looked identical like discrete descent, "w-who are you?" You asked in fear.

"I'm James Patrick march and this is-" "Tate Langdon" they said, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion "you're both dead no this can't be true." You couldn't believe what you were seeing they looked exactly like the killers you knew so much about. "How are you here?" You asked a thousand questions running around your head.

"Well you summoned us" Tate chuckled pointing to the ouija board. That's when you realised "shit I forgot to say goodbye" mentally cursing yourself, "it's quite alright dear, but I must ask how did you manage to get us free?" James asked.

"Dude she used the ouaji board to get us out" Tate said like James was dumb. "That's fascinating" James eyes light up "I don't know how we could ever thank you" James added. Tate's eyes on you like you’re his prey, swallowing a lump in your throat as his steps grew closer to you from behind. "I've got an idea" Tate's breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. "Y-you don't need to thank me" your voice was above whisper unsure what they mean.

"Well boy enlighten us with your idea" James's velvety voice made you shiver more. You couldn't deny they were both very attractive despite their tendency to killing. "Well she's pretty isn't she? Don't you agree?" Tate smirked his hands running down the soft skin of your arms. "I do agree with you she is quite remarkable" James agreed beckoning his steps closer to you.

You didn't know if your body was filled with fear or anticipation maybe both. Closing your eyes feeling their breaths breeze across your features. James colds fingertips grazing gracefully along your bare arms bringing goosebumps to their wake. "I think we shall reward her for setting us free from our eternal resistances" James smirked his pencil moustache raising up.

"I was thinking the same" Tate chuckled with a devilish smirk, you didn't know what to feel scared? Or turned on? Maybe both. Feeling their cold hands on you but you didn't protest instead you let out a small sigh tugging on your shirt removing it from your body your head felt like it was spinning feeling their lips on your neck. You felt yourself being guided to your bed. Seeing Tate now above you with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You didn't know where James was until Tate pull away from you, seeing James now in his briefs flipping you over on your hands and knee. You whimpered in anticipation for what's to come feeling James's cold fingers hooking into your underwear peeling the fabric of your underwear off you and into the floor. Tate in front of you his impressive length in-front of you, holding yourself on one hand stroking him, earning a low groan erupted from his mouth. You felt cold fingertips teasing your folds collecting your arousal bringing it to your clit circling it in slow torturous motions.

A small gasp left your lips, your body automatically responding to James's touch "that's it dear" he says huskily, Tate still knelt infront of you his eager length desperate for attention. You took Tate's cock in your hand stroking him kitten licking the tip making him buck his hips into your touch more. You took Tate in your mouth swirling your tongue along the tip, gasping as you felt James enter your heat.

James thrusted into you slowly you moaned against Tate's length. A low groan rumbled from his throat his hips bucked further in your throat. James thrusts grew more faster and harder, tears forming in your eyes. "Fuck" Tate hissed his hips essentially fucking your throat.

"You feel wonderful darling" James hissed his grip on your hips tight, nails digging into your skin only adding to your pleasure. "Fuck" you moaned feeling Tate twitch in your mouth signalling you that he was close. You kept your movements along Tate's cock till he releases into the back of your throat, swallowing every drop. James kept his movements thrusting harshly into you you felt close to the edge "I'm so close" you moaned. Tate was watching you and James with a smirk, his skin flustered. James didn’t stop his movements hitting that spot guaranteed to make you see stars.

With a few more harsh deep thrusts, your body trembles, back arching releasing over James’s length trigging his own release deep inside you. His thrusts became sloppy till they came to a halt. Trying to catch your breath “that was something else” you chuckled. James and tate shared a wicked smile between them, “oh we’re don’t done, we’re only getting started” Tate’s voice make a shiver run down your spine waiting on what’s to come.

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter II : Guilty as Sin

“If long-suffering propriety is what the want from me—

They don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

series masterlist Chapter I

pairing: post prison/ cm:evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance, hurt/comfort, fluffy angsty

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n's (I'm sorry, I know I'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, hurt/comfort, harsh words and gossip about reader and Spence; info-dumping Spencer; pet names (angel) possibly eventual smut in later parts, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything and as always, lemme know what you think!

note: still third person pov, but this one is more from the readers perspective. Thinking maybe I’ll go back and forth between chapters if you see a quote in purple it’s readers perspective, if the quote is green it’ll be Spencer’s 🩵

wordcount: 2.1k

Of course, Penelope did not disappoint, popping a tiny confetti popper at the newlyweds as they made their way out of the conference room and into the bullpen, which felt like an awkward makeshift reception. The rest of the team offered playful congratulations, with Alvez going so far as to wolf-whistle and point out the way the couple's linked hands which in turn earned him a swift knock on the back of the head courtesy of Tara. It felt safe and joyous. Y/N tried to smile, hesitantly dropping Spencer’s hand as she collected her things, the anxiety of being away from these people, from her home and normal life, just starting to settle into her chest.

The flight to Seattle was long. Though Y/N had traveled by jet multiple times, it had never felt so massive as she and Spencer sat at the small table combing through the case file in comfortable silence. So far, three couples had been found dead in their quiet Seattle homes. Of the couples, two of the men had been professors at different colleges in the area while the third was the head of a non-profit organization. The women, were all nearly twenty years young and had worked for their husbands in some way before being married. At each crime scene, the unsub left a calling card of sorts. A feather in the hands of the woman and a beautifully written poetic line alluding to the dangers of an “unruly” woman in the hand of the man.

“These cards are beautiful,” Y/N mused, turning the evidence bag with the delicate stationery over in her hands. “Each line is poetic in nature but not quite right. See, ‘Wise men once said Wild winds are death to the candle’? And these feathers?”

“I don’t think any of these are actual published poems, more like plays at various poets' works. But the feather, by the look of it, it looks like it’s possibly from an albatross. They’re seabirds with wingspans that can reach up to nearly ten feet. There are several poems regarding that particular bird. The first one that comes to mind is Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s ‘The Rime of Ancient Mariner,’ in which an albatross is wrongfully shot down because a mariner thought it to be a bad omen. In older mythologies, the albatross was seen as good luck, bringing wind to sailors. In the poem, the mariner is forced to wear the lifeless albatross around his neck in place of the traditional cross.” There’s an excitement in Spencer that y/n hasn’t seen before, the way his eyes light up and his hand flail almost wildly. It’s endearing— cute she would almost say.

“It’s not a super common metaphor, but the albatross is also often used in association with guilt or shame,” Spencer continued, sitting back in his chair, eyes looking anywhere but at the woman in front of him. “Some authors use it to symbolize a curse…sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his curls hanging gently around his face as he dropped his gaze back down to the file on the table.

“No-no, don’t apologize. That was all incredibly fascinating. I knew you are wildly academic, but why exactly do you know all of that about some random bird I’ve never even heard of?” Y/N's tone wasn’t teasing or harsh; it was full of genuine sincerity and curiosity, which took Spencer completely by surprise.

“My mentor… when I started at the BAU, he had a thing with birds,” Spencer chuckled, offering a small shrug as his gaze came back to meet hers. “I guess I just really wanted to impress him.” The jet fell back into a comfortable silence, except for the rustling papers, for another hour until Y/N decided she’d had enough and retreated to the small couch to rest her eyes for a bit.

The drive from the airport to the university was quick. The house they’d been assigned was cute, small, quaint, but certainly big enough for a professor and their spouse to be comfortable. There was an office for Spencer, a decently sized kitchen, and a living room that opened up to a sweet little patio. Truly, there should’ve been no complaints. As Y/N entered the bedroom, she frowned, her go-bag in hand as she shuffled around the nicely sized room, sizing up the singular king-sized bed. A knock at the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts.

Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes falling between the bed and the woman in front of him before nodding. “Don’t worry, you can take the master if you’d like. The office has a pullout, and I really don’t mind.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can sleep here—we can...” her voice going up an octave as she tried and failed to play it cool. “It’s not a big deal, Spencer. We’re both adults.” She shrugged, tossing her bag onto the bed and turning to sit at its foot, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Spencer read her like a book, seeing the young woman in front of him in the midst of a battle with herself, her pride and anxiety both fighting for control, though he knew she’d likely never admit that.

“Really, I’m okay. Thank you, though. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a little wave before retreating down the hall.

For the next week or so, the duo did their best to make the space feel like a home. What it lacked in size, it surely made up for it in atmosphere. For a state that had a nasty rap for rain and gloom, it was surprisingly peaceful. There hadn’t been any rain yet, and the summer sun stayed up well into the night. There were moments where Y/N caught herself thinking that had it not been for work, this would be a really nice life.

When the semester started, they fell into a comfortable routine. During the day, Y/N carried the full course load of a grad student, while Spencer spent most of his time tucked away in his on-campus office, prepping lectures and reviewing assignments. At night, the real work would begin as they’d sit at their quaint little dining table with a pot of coffee or take-out containers and go over any developments in the case that the team had found back in DC. In the two weeks they’d been in Seattle, the body count thankfully hadn’t gone up.

As the weeks went on, the rumblings of the new “hot” behavioral psychology professor spread like wildfire. Those rumors were quickly followed by the fact that he was not only married, but his wife was a student. It didn't take long for people to begin connecting the dots. With every professor calling out her name and immediately sizing her up, the other students caught on fast. Of course, after that, y/n became hyper aware the way almost everyone looked at her and the whispers from professors and students alike that she was “the girl,” the reason Doctor Reid had to move out west. She’d expected it from the students; it was incredible gossip that she herself would’ve eaten up back in her first round of university. What she hadn’t expected were the comments made by her partner's new colleagues, whispers usually a little too loud as she’d make her way into a room.

“She really should be ashamed of herself. You know, I heard he only married her to minimize the scandal. I bet he’s miserable.”

On a normal day, the comment would’ve rolled right off her back, she’d file it away with the rest of the case's details. Maybe she was overtired just exhausted from the workload of simultaneously playing a grad student and an FBI agent, but today, she let the words seep beneath her skin, poisoning her mind. She hadn’t stayed for the class, instead turning on her heels, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks as she made her way back to the house. She felt absolutely ridiculous, letting her emotions consume her this way. The words weren’t true, nothing about her current life or situation was true, so why did it hurt so much hearing that people thought Spencer was miserable beside her?

Am I allowed to cry?

When she entered the house, she crumbled against the door, the tears freely flowing as she allowed herself to fall apart in the privacy of the home that was supposed to be empty.

“Y/N?” Spencer called, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors as he made his way down the hall. “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He froze at the end of the hall, taking in the crumpled form of his pseudo-wife. “W-what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” The words came rushing out as he sunk to his knees in front of her, his hands hesitantly reaching out to cup her cheeks, his thumb trying to brush the tears away as quickly as they fell.

“I-I’m fine... You-you weren’t supposed to see this,” she sniffed, trying to pull away, to hide her face in her sweater, but Spencer wouldn’t let that happen. His hand staying planted firmly on her cheek, keeping her in place. “You’re supposed to be in your office...” she said, practically whimpering as another round of tears betrayed her.

“I came home to grab a book and a bite to eat... angel, what’s going on?”

“It’s silly—no, it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t even care, and none of this is real, and I—I...” She caught herself, her breaths coming short and quick, but Spencer didn’t move. He sat, patiently waiting for her to continue. “I know that it’s a story, that I am not really your wife, that you were never really my professor, and that six months ago you didn’t even know who I was.” Finally, she took a deep breath, her hand slowly taking his from her cheek and holding it in both of hers in her lap. “But it’s so awful, Spence... I’m just so tired of hearing how I’ve ruined your life, that I’m using you, that...” The last words caught in her throat as another silent sob racked through her body. “...that you’re miserable.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Do I look miserable? No, I don’t think I do and if I do, I sincerely apologize, I think it just may be my resting face.” his voice dripped the kind of sincerity that made Y/N’s heart flutter, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lip. “You’ve got a good face Spencer, not too miserable…”

Spencer chuckled, taking the compliment with a little nod, as he offered her hand a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, you’re going through this seemingly alone, and if it would make you feel any better I can have a conversation with the other professors… and though I’ve never been in your exact position, I do remember what it was like to constantly be torn down by everyone around you. You’re allowed to cry, angel, allowed to feel all of the things you’re currently feeling. And while I might only be your temporary husband, I did sign that paper, and I do promise to take care of you and make you smile and protect you from every awful thing I can’t control outside that door. Okay?”

She nodded, her gaze falling to their joined hands in her lap as the last of her tears stained her now rosy cheeks.

“I’m going to need a verbal response, angel.” His tone shifted; it wasn’t quite as delicate or gentle as his previous vows had been, but it was just stern enough to draw her gaze back up to his.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

“Y-yes. Okay.” With another nod, she took her hand from his, dragging it down her dampened cheeks. “I’m sorry about all this.” She offered him a small smile and a shrug. “I swear I’m not usually like this—”

“Stop it. There is nothing to be sorry about.” He rose to his feet, his hand immediately reaching out to help his partner up. “Now come on, I’ve got classes to cancel, and we’ve gotta get you cleaned up. I think we deserve to take the rest of the day off.”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, are you—are you proposing we play hooky this afternoon?” Y/N clutched her metaphorical pearls, mock shock consuming her features. Spencer rolled his eyes, a genuine chuckle passing his lips as he shook his head.

“What can I say, we’ve been here—what, going on three weeks? I think we deserve to see the sights. And besides, how else am I gonna show the world just how miserable I am by your side?” He teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head. “Now come on, seriously, up, moving. Let’s go, I’m taking you out.”

“If it’s make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?”

Chapter III: So High School

taglist: @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @herbookgarden @guiltyyassin

[lordofshitposting]

General Inumaki headcanons because we have too little content of him and as the head Inumakier I have to make up for it

He's not a natural platinum blonde, he just dyed his hair, since his hair in his original colour palette was light brown.

He's talented at drawing (since Gojō said he is [source:Jujutsu Kaisen Stroll Radio]).

He loooves kids.

As a kid, he was isolated from the outside world for a long time because of his CT.

He watches funny cat videos on YouTube.

Has a sleeper build.

His ass does NOT read books. Like, even if he started one, he would 100% drop it.

He would only go to weddings for the food fr (unless it's a close family member or one of his friends).

He's held and played with snakes in the clan. I like to think that they own a few.

His room is pretty clean.

If it weren't for morning assemblies, he would wake up at like 11am.

The Inumaki clan has very high athletic expectations from their sorcerers. This is why Inumaki is so athletic, + natural talent.

He knows martial arts. His combat style mostly consists of Karate, Kuk Sool Won and Taekwondo (the Karate idea came from him using a hand chop in the Thorny Road At Dawn novel and Taekwondo is self explanatory. Kuk Sool Won because I wanted to add something more and this one looks like one he would use).

He can jump extremely high.

If you insult onigiri in front of him, he will either look at you weirdly or say something like "we will torture you".

Once he hid somewhere and threw a silicon snake at Maki, imitating a snake sound to scare her. He got his ass beat afterwards (this one is something I did LMAO).

He's a deep thinker.

Consequently to not being able to communicate freely, he's gone through a lot of self-reflecting, and he understands people around him immensely well too.

This is why I think if someone liked him he would pick up on it fast, lol.

He's a foodie.

He has a ton of silly pictures of himself and his friends in his phone.

No skincare routine. His flawless, soft skin is a gift from God.

Once Yuji asked him to watch a movie with him. It didn't seem interesting to him from the description and the trailer, like AT ALL, but he agreed nonetheless so that Yuji wouldn't feel bad.

I don't think he gets sick easily, but when he does, he acts like a baby. And Yuta takes care of him.

He doesn't kill the insects and flies in his room, unless it's something disgusting like a cockroach; he picks them up with a tissue and puts them outside.

It may not seem like it, but he got some sass in him fr. After Hakari, he's the second sassiest boy in Jujutsu High

So it is canon that he has low blood pressure (or hypotension), and I think this gets in his way in fights when he's pushing himself past his limit. Extreme and sudden blood lose can trigger symptoms of hypotension, which in his case I think are blurred/fading vision, dizziness, fatigue and fainting. A good example of him experiencing all of these is his fight against Hanami. After finding out that he has low blood pressure and reading about it, this explains his lightheadedness and him passing out during the fight. Maybe the source of his hypertension is his CT in the first place, who knows.

He's an INTP

He loves it when people compliment him! His reaction is always so cute (source: Jujutsu Stroll Radio when Gojō complimented his artistic skills, his reaction when Yuji said his technique is cool)

I wanted to put some more things his interests and preferences, like his taste in music, his favourite media, his favourite sweets, but nothing sits quite right with me when deciding such things, and I usually don't agree with the headcanons of others on these either. I will post such headcanons too, if I come up with anything.

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Rolan, and Zevlor react to being stuck in close proximity with gn crush?

Warnings: None!

Notes: These may be a little short/uneven, but these were so cute to write!! Anon, you've become such a prominent asker, that I'd love to give you a nickname of some sort, if you're comfortable with that! <3  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Wyll

Wyll is a gentleman about the whole situation - or at least he tries to be. He gives you as much space as he is able to, even though he's squishing himself into a corner, he's more than happy to do that so that you're comfortable.

He tries to keep up conversation with you, to try and distract from the somewhat uncomfortable situation; mostly mundane questions, like 'What's your favourite...' or 'Have you ever...' It's also partly to distract you from the fact that his cheeks are burning hotter than the hells. Who'd have thought it'd be easy to fluster the Blade of Frontiers, even if it were only slightly, by being so near to him?

He cannot take his eyes off of you. Not even for a moment. He tries, at first, but finds it astronomically difficult, and eventually just gives in. He loves gazing at you - your presence brings him such peace, even in such a compromising position such as this.

Once the two of you are found/make your way out of the confined space, Wyll apologises - even though it was not his fault - and offers to make it up to you at some point, by however you see fit.

Rolan

Rolan is entirely speechless. He cannot find the words to say anything to you, not even a half-handed snappy quip. His eyes rarely meet yours, and are rather more often aimed off to the side, or somewhere above your heads. It's... Quite awkward.

You try anything to break the silence between the two of you; "Can you move your leg, please, Rolan?" Followed by a quiet shuffle as Rolan tries to move a little bit further from you but still remain comfortable. It is of little use on either front, but he tries. Any question of "how are you feeling?" Or "You okay?" is met with either complete silence, or a quiet grunt of acknowledgement.

Rolan doesn't know what to do, he's never been in a situation like this before - much less a situation where he can't find the words to express himself. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, harder than he can recall it ever being in his life. He's entirely tense, and he has no idea what to do; his normal confident facade has completely crumbled away, leaving little besides anxiety, and a slightly fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever you speak.

The first chance he gets after the pair of you can separate, he all but disappears from view - for several hours. You had wanted to talk to him about it, but couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually you do find him, but as soon as you bring up the situation, he turns his gaze from you; "I... Would rather not dwell on the situation... If it's all the same to you." He's just too flustered still to be able to process any of it.

Zevlor

Zevlor is constantly asking how you're feeling. "Are you sure you're well?" followed a few minutes later with, "Is there anything you need? ... Yes, I am aware I can't go and get anything, but I'm sure you understand the sentiment..."

He constantly asks you if you're alright, comfortable, etc. Neither of you know how long you're going to be stuck in this situation, so is completely understanding of the constant need to shuffle to keep your limbs from going dead. This being said, he'll always tell you if he's going to try and move himself, just so that he can try not to kick you, and you can brace yourself just in case of this outcome.

He tells you of his time in Elturel before it's descent into Avernus, his time as a Hellrider, all sorts. He finds it very easy to share things with you, since he's so sweet on you - it would usually take some probing for anyone to get that kind of information out of him. But, since he would like to establish more of a relationship with you, he's willing to part with some of it.

Once the two of you are out in the open again, Zevlor double checks that you're okay. "I would have hoped to have had some of those conversations in a more... Traditional way. But, I suppose, one cannot deny the deft hands of fate, hm?"

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[moonastro]

left to right(top)-> 1,2

left to right(bottom)-> 3,4

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.

°don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post(as i would entirely appreciate it).

FUTURE SPOUSE PAC

PILE 1-

Designated message= "look at me, look at me now".

-may have significant hands that other people notice. soft/beautiful/veiny/big/skinny etc. Could potentially use their hands a lot when talking or when carrying out daily tasks.

-i see that you are destined to unite but will take some time for you two to meet. When you do meet its going to bring everything you have dreamed of into your life.

-might be quite unfamiliar with emotions. may feel numb a lot or may not know how to handle emotions. Which may be from the fact that they carry a lot of emotional luggage that they just store. When they meet you you'll be able to guide them how to release those unnecessary emotions in a healthy way.

-the divine is LITERALLY guiding them towards you. like a magnet.

-i see a lot of people gossiping about them.😯

-in the eyes of others, they are very happy/witty/extraverted, when they are alone they might act differently.

-they are not in tune with their emotions which might be what they need to be working on in order to move forward. may be a life lesson for them???

-they may lack being independent. they follow other peoples footsteps which leads them not knowing who they are.

APPEARANCE

-definitely have curly/long hair.

-may like flowy/baggy light clothes.

-may wear bracelets/accessories.

-has a thing for flowers. may love the smell or likes flowers in general.

PILE 2-

Designated message= "tell me you love me". "love me love me say that you love me".

-gosh, very clingy.(applies to some, take what resonates).

-very funny. comedian kind of funny. Will make you laugh a lot.

-may be insecure, is afraid to ask for help from others.

-very introverted.

-yup, hides from the world but wants to see it and travel. may have tendencies to escape current lifestyle.

-is very emotional (lol opposite from pile 1).

-has definitely been through a lot, very transformative life experiences which made them lose trust in others. Scorpio/8h energy

-is very stubborn and wants to do their own thing.

-i see them dreaming a lot. definitely prefers night over day. which may also make them have an interest in stars/astronomy/astrology.

APPEARANCE

-short hair.

-may have a significant pet or has a lot of animals. loves animals??

-has some type of scar/birthmark on the face or head.

-dark features, ex, dark hair, dark eyes.

-sharp jawline.

PILE 3-

-Ooo love this pile ahhh. First thing that came up was success. very successful career. very reliable and VERY well known in workplace. business owner vibes.

-may speak multiple languages or may live in a different country. also travel quite often.

-they are definitely financially secure. They are literally up there with their money gains.

-can prioritise too much time on the job so could mean that they have no social life (some).

-you guys have already met or are going to meet very very soon.

-i see too much luggage and thoughts about work. may have mental health issues related from the fact.

-very tired individual. works too much. when meeting you they will definitely shine more as they will realise what they needed was you.😊aww

-may have Pisces placements. especially moon/mars.

-they might think that they don't need anybody because they have the standard dream life. that's not the case though.

-whenever you'll meet you'll definitely be the one to spark their life for sure.

-i see you two getting ice-cream/carnivals laughing A LOT. (i heard 'summer rain' so may meet in summer or when raining or you get the gist).

APPEARANCE

-have HUGE eyes. sleepy eyes. (some).

-muscular arms/chest.

-hairy (some).

-very tall, i see a huge height difference (some).

-is quite feminine/pure. not in a literal sense but may like accessories or clothes that may not be seen as masculine.

PILE 4-

18+

-very sexual couple.

-you are literally going to be thirsty for each other lol. may be into food play.

-they have high standards so they are not the one to choose anybody.

-very protective. oof take whatever ima say next with a grain of salt, they may become possessive in a not so cutesy way.

-check out pile 1 if you felt drawn to it as it may resonate to some.

-they literally will worship you. my gawd. you will be a literal goddess to them uhhh. want money? here. want new shoes? take my card. want to travel? lets go. That's going to be their mindset towards you. After meeting you they'll feel like its their job to protect and take care of you which again be careful as it may bring an unhealthy obsessions over you.

-they find it hard to communicate on a deeper level with others.

-yup, very into health and fitness. may be into strict diets like being keto/vegan etc.

APPEARANCE

-BIG. are gym freaks so you know how that turns out to be.

-plump lips

-may have a tooth gap (some)

-deep voice/significant voice.

That's it!! 🤍

Thanks so much for reading. i sincerely appreciate your time.🏵️

Feel free to give feedback and simply interact with this post however you'd like.⭐

[maespri]

your turn to die characters ranked by how painful their death was (and why)

okay. crazy title, i KNOW. but this was actually so interesting to talk and think about. at least for me.

spoilers ahead, and TRIGGER WARNING. this post is going to go into detail about each death. it’s going to get gory and upsetting. if you don’t think you can handle hearing about that, please keep scrolling!

everything is under the cut, because this post is LONG, i'm warning you now.

some backstory: i have a special interest in anatomy and physiology, and i've always thought about how the different deaths in your turn to die worked. my wonderful friend @lovivelle and i talked about this topic extensively last night and they made this tier list with me! so, here's the ranking and explanations!

this ranking ONLY covers HUMAN deaths, because dolls/dummies do not feel pain.

quick glossary: exsanguination: death caused by bleeding out hemorrhaging: bleeding necrosis: cell/tissue death hypoxia: inadequate oxygen supply hypovolemic: loss of fluid in the body, often referring to blood or water shock: life-threatening condition where the body does not have enough blood circulating through it crush syndrome: medical condition where skeletal muscle is crushed for a prolonged time, resulting in shock and organ failure hematemesis: vomiting up blood hemoptysis: coughing up blood TBI: traumatic brain injury immolation: death by burning; being burned alive

the tier list:

OUCH!! (most painful):

nao: nao's death involves her ribcage being crushed. i put her at number one for what i hope are obvious reasons. for starters, her death is drawn-out, making the pain last even longer. while her ribcage is being crushed, any internal organs are being crushed as well. her bones are probably splintering and breaking off and piercing her insides and organs. overall... just horrible pain. official cause of death: internal hemorrhaging and irreparable damage to organs.

kurumada: kurumada's death involved being crushed (between two walls), which is similar to nao's. i would put their pain levels as being equal to each other, but kurumada's has the potential to have been less painful than nao's, because we don't know how quickly the walls crushed his body. if they were moving slowly, the pain would've been drawn-out and agonizing, and in that case, i would make the argument that his death was more painful than nao's. but if it was very quick, he would've just felt blinding pain in his entire body for a few seconds before it would end. we do have to keep in mind that kurumada is clearly quite muscular however, which probably provided some resistance against the walls, but only served to draw out his pain even further. official cause of death: muscle necrosis, internal hemorrhaging, and irreparable damage to internal organs due to crush syndrome.

either way, both definitely experienced, in my opinion, the most painful deaths in the game.

YOWZA! (very painful):

mishima: mishima's death results from his collar slowly heating up and burning his neck until his head disconnects from it. i don't even have the words to describe how painful this would be. the fact that the collar heats up slowly and it is drawn out only makes it worse. if you've ever burned yourself before anywhere on your body, you know how painful it is. imagine that pain centralized around your neck. mishima might have the fortune of his nerves being burned off after a certain amount of time, which would mean he wouldn't feel anything (think third-degree burns burning through to muscle, tissue, and nerve endings). but at that point, because the burning is around his neck and your neck contains- A) your spine/spinal cord and B) your trachea, which allows you to breathe- anyway and burning it in half would definitely kill you, he may be dead before he even has time to not feel any pain. either way, this shit would hurt so bad. official cause of death: cerebral hypoxia due to decapitation.

hinako: hinako technically has two deaths, but we ranked her based off of her being drilled. a lot of questions actually arose when my friend and i were talking about the drill deaths, because we don't know the speed at which the drills move. i mean, whether they're moving quickly or slowly, it would still obviously hurt- but the faster the drill, the quicker the death, which would make it less painful. being drilled would be unbearably painful for the sole fact that she might be alive for a lot of the drilling until it reaches any vital organs. no matter what, it'd be very painful. official cause of death: hard to say for certain, but would most likely be from exsanguination... y'know, from her body being split in half by a giant drill.

kugie (kanna's sister): my friend and i were FLOORED when we looked into kugie's death. in the game, i don't think we get a canonical answer specifically as to how she dies, but in the manga, we do. kugie and kanna have the same first trial as joe and sara, but they don't succeed. in it, kugie's bed literally snaps and essentially folds her in half. in the image from the manga, we can see blood flying out from the bed (implying it happened very quickly, because if it were slow, the blood would instead drip and flow), and kugie's hand sticking out between the two slabs of the bed. i think this death is the most painful out of the entire "YOWZA!" category because kugie was probably alive and in immense pain for at least a few seconds or even minutes after the bed snapped. if i had to speculate official cause(s) of death:

i would guess her lumbar vertebrae (basically the bottom discs of the spine) and spinal cord snapped, cutting off sensation and sending her into shock.

if she was folded in half, her legs would have quickly shot up, meaning her torso was likely unnaturally slammed into by both them and the bed, and sustained massive trauma. this would cause internal hemorrhaging and damage to her organs.

the blood spurting out of the bed was likely from her head. i'm a teenage girl, likely the same height or around the same height as kugie, and when i bend in half, my face is level with my knees. knowing this, her knees probably slammed into her face and broke her skull, causing a TBI.

the combination of all of that would have first caused terrible pain for, like i said, at least a few seconds or minutes- we don't see how extensive the damage really was, so i can't say for certain... but yeah.

aughhh (painful):

joe: joe's death is really interesting to think about, because upon first glance, you might think it's one of the most painful- but there are a few things i considered with him. his death is a result of wrigglers draining the blood out of his body. because we don't know how large the wrigglers are, i can't say how painful it would be when they enter his body- but i'd have to guess they're on the smaller side, like little tubes, because if they were big, they would have difficulty sucking out his blood due to how small blood vessels are. it would hurt horribly to have the wrigglers enter his body and drain the blood. we don't know if they moved around through his blood vessels- if they did, that would definitely exacerbate the pain- or if it was more just like getting blood drawn. but what i considered with him, the thing that makes his death less painful than the others, is the fact that he would probably pass out long before he's even fully dead. the amount of blood he's losing at such a rapid pace would first make him dizzy and disoriented before he just... passes out. his entire body would start shutting down very quickly and he wouldn't even be awake for it. his body would give up on transporting blood to the extremities and non-vital organs and shift only to transporting what little blood it can to keep vital organs running. when that blood runs out, the heart will stop being able to pump enough blood throughout the body and to the brain, and joe would actually be dead. so... yeah. official cause of death: hypovolemic shock resulting in organ failure.

shin: shin dies after being fatally injured by the death game's security system. while it's unclear exactly how the security system killed him, i believe he was stabbed/impaled somehow. there are a few questions regarding exactly where he was stabbed, but i assume he was hit somewhere in the torso because he has blood coming out of his mouth. if you don't know:

blood coming out of the mouth can be a result of haematemesis (vomiting up blood), which is where blood wells up in the stomach/digestive tract due to trauma in that area

it can also be a result of haemoptosis (coughing up blood), which results from being stabbed in the lungs/trachea due to trauma in that area

my guess is he was stabbed in the stomach, because if he were stabbed in the lungs, he'd be coughing and frothing at the mouth struggling to breathe. if i'm remembering correctly, he's also shown to be clutching his abdomen after turning on the joe AI, so... my money is definitely in the stomach.

which, you guessed it, would hurt. a lot. and there's no workaround. he's strong enough to drag himself to the rubble room and turn on an AI before dying. he would've been in blinding pain that entire time before dying.

official cause of death: exsanguination.

reko: reko technically has three canonical deaths, which made her hard to rank. i'll cover them all.

strangulation (hanging by collar): being hung is painful, but i think people underestimate how terrifying it is too. reko would have been terrified and in immense pain for a few minutes before dying. everything in her neck would be getting crushed and pressed on by the collar thanks to gravity. overall... awful death. official cause of death: cerebral hypoxia due to strangulation.

stabbed: same as what i said for shin. terrible pain for however long until she ultimately bleeds out. official cause of death: exsanguination.

fake-reko falling headfirst onto a spike: this one's... interesting! mainly because i think she would actually just be dead instantly. if the spike pierces her brain, she won't even really have time to process "ow!" before just. being dead. official cause of death: severe TBI resulting in death.

owie (painful, but not as painful as others):

q-taro: q-taro is stabbed in the back by mai and slowly bleeds to death over the course of the chapter. the reason i put him so low is because he would definitely be in some pain, but i don't think mai stabbed him very well (no offense girl). he's able to walk around, talk, and do stuff with the others after being stabbed, at least for a little while. it's difficult for me to pinpoint what exactly killed him because of this. i'd imagine his body began repairing the stab wound in his back, but ultimately, blood loss and the disruption to everything surrounding his spine (because mai stabs him in the back) is probably what killed him. depending on how deep mai's knife was, the blade may have even pierced or grazed internal organs such as q-taro's heart or a lung. his body probably put most of its focus on keeping his internal organs running whilst simultaneously trying to repair them, which tired him out over the course of the chapter, before it ultimately couldn't keep up with the amount of blood being lost. a hasty bandaging job using an office first-aid kit is not ideal for stab wounds.

*edit: this person corrected me regarding q-taro's death! i still think the severity of his injury could have killed him before the coffin cremation system actually killed him, plus the information is interesting, so i'm keeping it. but technically, being burned alive is actually what killed him. ouch.

official cause of death: exsanguination OR immolation.

kai: kai's death is kind of up in the air in terms of the specifics, but we know he kills himself during the first main game by cutting his arms. in order for this to kill him, and for him to have bled out as fast as he did, he likely cut his axillary and/or brachial artery. your brachial artery runs down the front of your bicep and is an extension of your axillary artery, which is in your upper arm/armpit. if kai cut deeply into both his brachial arteries, and/or his axillary arteries, he would bleed to death very quickly. it would be really painful, but i think adrenaline and the probability he'd pass out immediately would certainly be on his side here, making it at least a little less painful. either way, he dies quite fast, so. official cause of death: exsanguination.

uncertain (i'm not sure!):

this category is for the characters who have one or more variables that make it difficult or impossible to determine how painful their death was.

kanna: first of all, the way kanna dies is impossible in real life. lets just get that out of the way. you cannot have flowers sprout out of your body. that immediately makes it impossible to tell how painful it would be for her.

if i were to suspend my disbelief for this, however, here's what i have to say about it:

safalin says kanna is numb during her death, which would instantly give her a pain rating of zero. kanna is screaming during her death, but given what safalin says, that doesn't necessarily prove she's in pain. she could just be screaming out of fear.

if she weren't numb, yeah, she would be in a lot of pain. flowers and vines growing out of your body, poking out of your skin, running through your insides- that would hurt insanely bad.

but the fact that:

this death isn't possible in real life

kanna is presumably numb during her death

we don't specifically know how the seeds are working/moving inside her body

kind of made it impossible to rank her.

if i had to guess a cause of death, i'd guess severe disruption by the vines to her internal organs and processes is what ultimately killed her.

hayasaka: hayasaka's head is presumably cut off by a swinging axe. there are two reasons we put him in 'uncertain'; we don't know how sharp the blade of the axe is, and we don't know the velocity it's swinging at.

if the blade is swinging slowly and is very dull, it would take a few swings to fully cut off hayasaka's head, which would make it incredibly painful.

but if the blade is swinging very quickly and is super sharp, his death would be instantaneous, making it essentially painless.

so it's difficult to say, but either way:

official cause of death: decapitation.

ranmaru: ranmaru's death is in 'uncertain' because we

don't know exactly how that happened to his stomach

hear him talk about how he's numb to it

don't know how long he's been sitting there

i imagine he was in some pain and just putting up a front, but we just don't know for sure. and like i just said, we don't know what specifically killed him or how. we just see a wound in his stomach.

probable cause of death: exsanguination/hemorrhaging.

anzu: anzu's was between 'uncertain' and 'so quick.' we see spikes piercing her body, but the angle makes it difficult to tell exactly where they pierce, or how sharp they are, etc. if the spikes didn't hit her face/brain, she probably felt intense pain for some time from the neck-down before rapidly bleeding to death. if the spikes got her head, she'd die instantly. so.

probable cause of death: exsanguination? TBI? damage to internal organs/processes?

ranger: according to ranger's wiki, his human form was stabbed by an assassin. not nearly enough information to rank him with certainty.

cause of death: stabbed?

so quick (too fast to be painful):

both mai and alice's deaths were so fast, they fell into this category.

mai: mai shoots herself in the head. her death would have been immediate and painless since she shot herself in the brain.

official cause of death: fatal TBI.

alice: alice's abdomen explodes. if that happens, you're probably going to feel a very brief flash of pain before immediately dying, because the damage would be so extensive (shrapnel exploded his stomach, but there was undoubtedly collateral damage to his heart, lungs, and other organs around there). he would have been in shock if he did somehow manage to survive for a few more seconds. pain would be minimal or nonexistent in my opinion due to the sheer severity of the injury. and in terms of him being hung in chapter 3, it's the same as reko.

official cause of death: shock resulting from traumatic abdominal injury.

thats it!

if you for god knows what reason read all this, thank you! i'm honestly only posting it kind of for myself and my friend to look back on if i ever want to think about it again, but maybe someone will find it interesting.

questions, comments, concerns (of which i'm sure there are many)- i'm an open book. i'm not a professional by any means, but i am insane. bye!

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀DETECTIVE AND MURDERER IN HELL . —

#pairing : alastor x gn reader. #cw : may include adult content. enemies to lovers trope. #summary : you were a detective when you were a human! but uh oh, you died.. and you meet the target that you were on to before your death? #note : I feel bad for not posting for so long, here's a little sneak peek at what I'm working on! i received this prompt from an anon in my inbox and do i love it very much. i have so many ideas for this fic, it'll be my first ever long fic on this blog! i'll reply to the ask once I'm done with the fic :3

“my, isn’t it my favorite detective!” you hear a static, loud voice speak from behind you. you quirk a brow, slowly turning your head to see a demon that somehow resembles a deer. a red deer, that is. he wears this wide smile that stretches from ear to ear, his whole attire so formal it makes you question if you’re underdressed. he holds a cane in his hands; it looks like a speaker that he got custom-made. confusion bubbles inside of you, and multiple questions float across your mind. who is this man, that so happens to know what you work as when you were still alive?

and, out of all demons, why are you his favorite?

“I’m sorry, but have we met?” you turn your body to face him fully, your eyes scanning from head to toe wondering if it’s just a fuzzy memory of yours. the demon steps closer to you, a sense of uneasiness instantly rushes through your veins. you shudder suddenly..

“aha, of course we have! you were even so interested in me back when we were alive!” his words only made your confusion grow. you, being interested in someone? in what way? your work has never allowed you any extra space to catch feelings for anyone around you, so surely it’s not a crush unless you’ve misunderstood. It’s like he read your thoughts, he quickly adds in with a light chuckle.

“constantly trying to gather information about me, pinpointing my location, guessing my next move. fun times! I truly enjoyed watching you do so.” something clicked in your head. so this demon was presumably a target of yours before he died, but how could you know exactly which? you had so many targets, so many psychopaths you had to track down and lock them up for good. though, something about his deer features brings a blurry memory of a specific target that you currently can’t quite put a name to his face.

everyone in the hotel watches your interaction with the red demon quietly. the air is tense, nobody dared to breathe any harder than they are now. charlie is the most anxious one out of everyone in the room; angel is starting to doubt whether he should’ve brought you back to the hotel. but, surely, the manager is smarter than to kill off someone interested in staying, no?

“care to remind me which one are you?” your hands instinctively hide themselves in your pockets as a habit. your tone isn’t as friendly as it was when you spoke to the others, and the demon is loving the reaction he’s getting from you.

“gladly, my dear friend! i’d say my case was the one you spent the most time on,” you suddenly feel a strong tug on your hand before realizing that you’re shaking hands with the demon. his smile widens as you grow more uncomfortable. “the name’s alastor! pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! I was there to witness your lovely slash boring death,”

you pull your hand back from his grasp, face scrunching at the mention of your death. he witnessed your death? what is he hinting? Is he trying to tell you that it was he who took the life of yours?

“I watched as you were murdered by one petty man i convinced, it was one of the most boring deaths i’ve ever seen! but dear, was i disappointed that you’ll never be able to put a close to my case when i thought you’d do better at fighting back.” you freeze suddenly, blood running cold from your face as he carries on.

“I was the last target you had before dying, it was a joy toying with you like a little mouse.”

so that’s what all the familiarity you felt was. his demeanor and personality, all that was jotted down in the notebook you had for research. he matches everything you wrote; you remember word by word from the number of times you’ve reread it, the times at night when you’re desperate to finally put the case to a stop. you feel anger and disgust pound in your chest, feet stepping back a couple of times.

he’s the reason why you died. you stare at his mocking smile, his expression that clearly shows his enjoyment while watching your reaction. a growl bubbles from your chest, and you see the spider demon hesitantly approach you. he stays beside you, rubbing his arm nervously while trying to think of a reason to pull you away from this scene.

“I died because of you,” you breathe out, body shaking not from fear but anger and realization. you suddenly leap forward when angel is about to reach out for your arm, your fingers curl tightly around the collar of alastor’s shirt. his smile only widens at your actions, a light hum that slides out so smoothly and audibly. “and it was purely for fun?” it’s even possible to notice every small feature you have on your face from how close you’ve pulled his face to yours. you earn a mere shrug from the demon.

“woah! babes, hey, calm down would’ja? let’s head somewhere else.” you feel a tug at your arm, but you don’t budge. you want to hurt this demon, to beat him until he’s curled up into a ball on the ground, but you can’t. there’s something holding you back, something telling you to not go any further than what you’re currently doing. he reeks of danger and mystery, hell knows what would he do to you if you were to cross his line. with another growl, you harshly push him away and he stumbles back a few steps with a small ‘oh!’.

angel sees this and takes the chance to quickly drag you away from the scene, and you let him. Everyone in the hall watches angel drag you all the way to the kitchen until alastor is out of your sight. his clawed fingers release your arm, a concerned gaze fixated on your slumping figure as you let out a deep sigh while pressing your face onto the surface of your palms.

now, you’ll really have to think it through whether you want to stay in this hotel. having so many things to take in so suddenly messes up your thoughts, something you’re unfamiliar with considering how you’re always sharp and organized.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[kookidough]

analysing vance hopper because he lives in my head 24/7 !

tw for like. literally everything the black phone covers!!!!!!

also there's some special effects gore rather far down in the post idk just i feel like i should warn you just in case

okay so before anyones like "but bee!!!! he only had 6 minutes of screen time in a 102 minute long movie!!!!! he was only on screen for 5.8% of the movie!!!!!" and to that i say i Know it was a real tragedy so a lot of this will be built on personal interpretation and subtext and stuff said behind the scenes and whatnot

so firstly i wanna rot about what his childhood/upbringing might've been like..... i havent quite decided on something definitive but i think we can take one look at his character and realise that is glaringly obvious he had a bad childhood, in one interview the actor that plays him (brady hepner) says "the background i had set up for vance is that the reason he was the way he was is his home life was fairly difficult, you know maybe his dad was either not there for him or he wasn't supportive, maybe he was fairly abusive, and so that creates a hair trigger sense of rage in vance" hair trigger meaning his patience is literally as thin as a strand of hair it does Not take a lot for him to snap

there more to it after that which i'll get into soon but yea thats the gist of it it's clear he had absent/neglectful/abusive parents and that would certainly contribute to why he's so angry all the time, maybe acting so explosive was the only way to get his parents' attention, either good or bad, so he just internalised that. obviously rage and anger issues like vance's lead to violence (not in all cases but in his case it does) and i think a neglectful and abusive upbringing would obviously expose him to more violence than a normal childhood would, therefore normalising it and desensitising him to it, whether he's seeing it play out in his own home and/or on television or something like that (because i doubt his parents would be the kind to monitor what content he's viewing)

i feel like he has little control over his life and that only adds to his anger, which in his case leads to a fight when his buttons are pushed too many times. i think he probably takes great pride in being the toughest in town and whatnot and winning fights and being perceived as strong and scary is good to him and helps him regain control/power, something he doesnt have at home. the rest of the quote from the interview i mentioned earlier states "this pinball machine could have been the only thing that he has in his heart that's like, good, like 'holy cow i did this, i set the score,' so when someone comes along and messes it up for him, it takes away the only thing that he has. i think that that's when he switches to a 'now you're gonna pay for that'"

similar to what i said about fighting, the pinball machine and his high score is something he has control over and its an important part of his reputation/image like. hes literally pinball vance ! and the whole thing about that high score being the "only thing he has in his heart that's good" implies that hes. well. pretty shit at everything else, which is pretty much canon if you remember that gwen said vance was held back twice in school. makes me think that while he's not the brightest in school he's certainly street smart

moving onto ermmmmm him getting kidnapped era because im sure youre wondering "well bee if he's so street smart then why did he get kidnapped" so may i raise two theories (this is. literally all i got and its not even concrete, me and my friend gray (@staggersz) tried to figure out how this could even happen and this is the most plausible thing we've got. so shoutout to him real quick he has had to deal with me being unnormal about vance for like a year and a half thanks king couldnt have done all this without my rotting buddy)

so either he got taken by surprise (most likely option) or vance's trust was gained first via getting given quarters at the pinball machine and small talk and shit like that but this is unlikely because i feel like it'd take a loooooong time for someone like vance to trust a some random stranger adult man when he clearly has issues with trusting and respecting people older than him and people with authority (e.g. cops, his parents, or school officials) so yea being taken by surprise would probably be the most realistic option, i always see people on tiktok being like "how did the grabber kidnap vance hes so strong!!!!" dude its a 15 year old boy against like. a 45 year old man who's already claimed two lives its really not gonna be a fair fight here

before i get into the next part i wanna quickly address a theory i absolutely Hate and it is so easily disproven and that is the theory that vance is the grabber's son or is related to him in some other way and i see it Far too often on tiktok and i HATE it. from what ive seen this all stems from his dream sequence where he kicks open the fence to albert's house and, presumably, goes inside after being dropped off by the police after the grab n go fight. idk if some people just straight up didnt realise this but clearly in real life he is going to his Own House??? in the dream it's only albert's house because this is how he chooses to show gwen the house she's trying to find her brother in, the house that he himself was killed in??? i hate the theory i hate it sm

the dream sequence itself is interesting though as the ghosts seem to only be able to conjure up what theyve seen in real life (like how bruce can picture the outside of the house and show that to gwen but the house number is all flipped and not right beause he doesnt know it) so vance being able to picture the house and the number and the gate and every detail would imply that hes seen it before, but im going to explain that away as either he got out once before like with finney's failed escape attempt, or the house is most likely on the route he walks to school or the grab n go or something and he hasnt actually been there prior to being kidnapped

mini rant over now onto being kidnapped i guess, so i used the missing posters to try and estimate a timeline of how long each ghost boy would've been in the basement for (although the missing posters are notoriously unreliable for details such as looks/height/age/etc, the dates seem to all line up). so we know the order is griffin, billy, vance, bruce, robin, finney, right?? if we use the poster date then billy was taken on may 4th, 1976, a month and two days after griffin was taken (april 2nd 1976). vance was taken on september 23rd 1977, almost a full year later (stay with me im going somewhere with this), and after that bruce was taken on july 18th 1978, again almost a full year later

its established in the movie that the grabber stalks his victims before he takes them (canon because we literally see the van watching finney and gwen as they walk home from school early on in the movie) but we dont know how long he does this for since griffin/billy and robin/finney were taken such short distances apart and then the others were taken such long distances apart, also it's possible he could stalk his next victim while the previous one is still alive, etc etc lots of confusing factors, but if i've done the maths right then the absolute maximum time vance could've spent down there is 9 months and 25 days, or 298 days, so erm . let that sink in !

howeverrrr in the movie gwen states that vance went missing "last spring" and september is definitely not in spring, meaning he could've been down there for a year or even longer. an explanation or excuse i could think of for the movie and the missing poster saying different things (other than the missing posters being known for some areas being wildly inaccurate) is that maybe he was taken in spring but wasnt labelled as officially missing until september, when he was properly linked to griffin and billy's similar disappearances and the mysterious grabber? i can imagine it'd be very easy for law enforcement, especially in the 70s, to dismiss someone like vance as a runaway until they get solid evidence that he was taken. idk though thats just my personal excuse / angsty headcanon for the difference in information

not sure what exactly killed him but we do hear from vance himself that "he took his time with me" so it was probably blood loss from a variety of injuries, if we look at him in his ghost scenes we can see his hair is absolutely covered in blood which indicates head injury, he clearly has a broken nose and bruising around his eyes as a result of it, he has these deep cuts on his abdomen area (apologies for the image quality but i believe they're like. sfx pieces you would wear under clothing)

and he also has just like. minor bruising (like the fingerprints on his arm) and other random blood splatters on his face and neck (assuming the blood down his neck comes from wherever he was bleeding on his head) so Yeah overall very unpleasant way to die obviously

okay now the part thats actually in the movie and it only took me 13 paragraphs to get here: vance as a ghost!! first thing i wanna point out is appearance wise i just want to say that when he's a ghost he's missing his choker and that fact Pains me. anyway personality-wise i feel like being violently murdered has, understandably, kicked his rage up to like. the highest level it could possibly go. he's insanely snarky and downright rude to finney on the phone, showing no empathy to the fact that finney is literally in the exact situation he was in

i feel like the whole "this is the nightmare end of your pathetic little life" and "if you knew what you had coming, you'd be fucking terrified" thing is definitely to scare finney on purpose and to get him to do something, vance might as well have just told him he's never going home cuz thats how it came across LMAOO, it is startling though because vance is clearly speaking from experience, that he was literally fucking terrified, and he is warning finney in his own weird way

the thing i think sets vance apart from the other ghosts is that while he does help finney, he does it for a different reason than they do. the other ghosts want finney to escape, to get out, to be free, to live, but personally i dont think vance cares about that. the only thing he wants is for albert shaw to be dead, for someone to seek vengeance, to do what vance couldn't. vance doesn't care if it's bruce or robin or finney or whatever boy could've come after that, he doesnt care as long as that man gets what he deserves after what he put vance through, and i see this through the scene at the end of vance's call where finney thanks him for his help and vance says, and i quote, "helping you? this isn't about you, fuck him! and apologies for being repetitive but to me it just literally proves that to vance, this isnt about finney or his escape, its just about revenge

we dont get to find out what happens to the ghosts once the credits have rolled, and i dont think we quite know enough about tbp's version of ghosts to guess what theyre up to, but i have a few theories :3 maybe theyre no longer bound to those two houses and they can now go anywhere they want in town? or maybe since their shared goal of stopping albert has been achieved, the ghosts can finally pass on to whatever is waiting for them next. i dont think vance would be content to pass on that quickly or easily as anger lingers, but i hope he'd be able to let go of it eventually, and hey we might find out in the sequel. i pray it mentions him cuz i will just die if it doesnt

sometimes, ok thats a lie, frequently i think about an au where he survived or escaped or whatever but ohhhh boy this post is already a train wreck so that au would deserve its own essay of a post :3 if u actually genuinely read this far then Wtf thanks for reading the ramblings of an absolute madman, only pure delusion could get like 20 paragraphs about a guy with 6 minutes screentime but hey thats how i roll, thanks again to my pal gray for letting me rot and thank u to my other pal ana for also enduring all this rot

hope u enjoyed my interpretation of vance hopper im going to crawl in a hole now and probably brainrot some more, thanks again for ur time :3