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writingwisterias · 2 days ago

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Bonding

Vendetta! Leon Kennedy x Winters!Medic!Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst, Injuries, Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, trauma sharing, Age-Gap, Platonic relationship

Summary: After helping your brother find his wife you get left with unusual abilities, ones that often feel like a burden than a gift...until shit happens and you both end up healing each other in more ways than one.

Words: 2.3k

Requested by @misswynters I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took so long, I was fighting this story trying to get it right! <3

As if it wasn’t already bad enough that he had a partner on this mission, it was made worse that it was supposedly one of the BSSA’s best. He scoffed at the files, they gave him the ones he had now thrown on the table and already forgotten about. Not that he needed it as he already predicted who would be joining him. The glass of whiskey was already half empty as he was working his way through the bottle, they hadn’t even set off yet. The agent was late, or he was just really early for once. Leon shut his eyes preparing himself for the ridicule he would receive when Chris, the agent he had presumed would be the one they sent to join him, the one that would eventually thump his way onto the plane. The man wouldn’t know how to be stealthy even if took a course on it. However, his ears picked up the sound of light footsteps on the metal stairs into the plane. His eyes peeled open as he trained them on the plane entrance. Curiosity coursed through his veins. What he didn’t expect was you.

A younger girl, one that must have joined more recently. How was she one of their best? It looked like shes never been on a mission on her own.

You watched as his eyes narrowed at the sight of you, clearly trying to figure out who you were and how you were possibly one of the best. A poor attempt to pinpoint your story. You didn’t fail to notice the discarded file or glass of the infamous amber liquid. If he had read it, he would have got all the answers he was currently peering at you for. Chris had warned you after all about the behaviour of the man in front of you. It was your first mission alone and according to the burly man it wouldn’t be a challenge of the enemies but of the partner you had been promised. “You must be Leon Kennedy” You spoke, holding your hand out to him. Leon studied it like you had some hidden message etched within your skin. To him they looked too clean, too pure. There were no scars or texture to them. “You are?”

His voice was rough, and croaky from the burning liquid that warmed his insides so early in the morning. Your name shocked him but the last name piqued his curiosity. “Winters eh?” he repeated, trying to recall the significance with his dazed mind. This was the professional government agent you were promised? The best of the best? You cleared your throat sitting in the chair opposite him, a small apology leaving your lips as you bumped his knee. You already seemed too kind for this job or at least too new to it, if only he could remember why your name was familiar. “Well, it’s clear someone didn’t do their homework. I’m the sister to Ethan Winters…The baker house incident” You spoke. He didn’t fail to notice the nervous shaking of your hands, guilt coursing through him as he clearly made you relive whatever you had gone through. BSSA twat or not, no one needed to be haunted like that. “Right - I heard about your case. Your brother went looking for his wife and you ended up in a whirlwind of shit”

Of course, Leon couldn’t be kind, he didn’t see it in his nature anymore. All he had to do was shut up, just like you were doing as you turned to face the window. There was no need to pick holes as to why you got involved in this line of work, it's not like his start was any better. A promise to work for someone else's protection only for that girl to end up like him anyway. A government pawn.

Your head leaned against the cabin walls as you watched the plane take off. You ignored his remark, his ignorance of your past and wrongdoings was a reflection on him, not you. After all, you didn’t have to go and help Ethan find his wife. Only for the two of you to end up in that house of nightmares, to then witness a poor family wrongfully affected. Sure Leon has seen some shit, but a family just wanting to help an innocent woman and being infected with the same thing that coursed through your veins. Their minds twisted and turned as they attempted to kill you, their bodies forced to change to adapt to new horrors.

Ethan and you were given military training after that, along with the option to join the BSSA. You didn’t hate Ethan’s choice to continue his family life with Mia, taking the training and using it to protect her if he needed it. Part of you wanted to do the same but ever since you knew the truth, the fact that the virus now ran throughout your body whether you wanted it or not. It felt wrong to try and find someone new in the world, someone who would understand your position and what you did or have seen. You had accepted it… the fact you were forever infected with this taint. The loneliness it brought along with it was harder to stomach. That was until the mould changed you, your hands suddenly more useful to them than hiding.

From what you had heard Leon was a pretty respected agent, how you didn’t understand. His attitude only grew the more he drank during the flight. The important document still left unread is now being used as a placemat for his drink. The brown folder now gathers a formation of rings. “What makes you so special then?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any abnormalities. You shrugged. Never really have an answer to that, you can heal yourself and others but that doesn't make you feel special. It felt more like a burden. “I guess I just have more than enough knowledge and experience on whatever we are going to be dealing with” You answered. Leon didn’t respond so you took his silence as the sign the conversation was over. Your gaze lingered on him for a while longer until you finally turned to watch the plane fly amongst the clouds watching as the ground got closer now you had both reached the destination.

Your footsteps echoed down the darkened corridor, your flashlights barely illuminating anything in front of you. The building groaned upon your arrival, the wind working its way through the cracks. The abandoned warehouse had rumours of lingering scientists working on something, the usual deal from what Leon had to say about it when you both opened the front door. “One day I’m sure a super evil scientist will not pick a decrypted building as their place to do their experiments” You joked. A small chuckle left Leon’s lips as he glanced over at you; amusement lacing his eyes. “It wouldn't be half as fun then” he responded. The atmosphere changed between the two of you the further you entered, the once clipped and cautious words grew warmer and longer. You had both found comfort in each other's presence, a silence falling over the both of you that never quite felt awkward. Your minds worked in sync as you both cleared out the rooms, working your way further and lower into the building. That was until distant explosions went off and the two of you fell to the floor.

You vaguely acknowledged Leon's scream of pain, the ceilings collapsing making the room dark as the rubble caged you both in. “Fuck” Leon groaned as he grasped at his leg. Your coughs rattled as you took in the clouds of dust, “you good?”. It was a stupid question really, his scream and groans of pain indicated anything but that. You scrambled for the flashlight on your belt to try and light up the space as well as hitting the emergency button sending your signal to nearby backup. The flashlight didn’t do much but it allowed you to spot Leon on the floor, clutching at his leg. You didn't have much space to work with, your hands hurt as you pressed on the ground crawling towards him. The gravel biting into your skin. “Leon? What is it?” You asked when you finally reached him, flashlight in hand. You didn't need him to answer as you had already spotted the red seeping out between his fingers. The flow didn't look like it would stop anytime soon. “Fuck” he groaned again.

Your hands shook as they hovered over his own, your fingers gently prying his hands away from the wound to get a better look. It was bad, too bad for you to just do a quick fix and wait until you both got rescued. The rubble that was still settling around you both would probably end up infecting it. He hissed in pain as you held your hands on his wounds, you focused on it - working on stitching it back together. Leon watched as you worked, his brain trying to grasp what was even happening. “What the fuck” he muttered under his breath as your hands pulled away. His own replaced yours once again, feeling the stitched skin. There was no scar, no lingering reminder of this unfortunate event left on his skin. “How?” He questioned.

You sat back against the rubble behind you, your knees clutched tightly to your chest to give him some more room. He watched you shrink into yourself. You looked so small, so young. Too young to be brought into a job like this, to see the things you must have seen. It reminded him of himself, the young cop who was thrown into the deep end when he just tried to help people. “When I went to help my brother…in the baker's house…we both got infected. He can just heal himself, you should have seen the injuries he's had” you explained. He could hear the weak chuckle in your words, trying to make light of a decision to help your brother. One that changed your life. “And you? What happened to you during it?”

“Ethan protected me from most of what happened, he's got a baby on the way from what he told me in our last phone call. I ended up leaving with the ability to heal others as well as myself…it's tiring, and traumatizing at times- the injuries I've seen are something else. But Chris said the BSSA could use someone like me. So I joined”

Leon studied you further, his eyes piercing in the dim light of the flashlight. He could understand how you felt. You had been given an opportunity, something that would make you feel like you were doing some good. Only to forever try and shoulder the effects of the lifestyle change. “After Raccoon City I was forced to become an agent. To use my pure luck and train it into my skill set today. Despite the conversation, it never really felt like I had a choice, an option for what I wanted to do. It was blackmail”

You didn't expect him to explain his own story, to open up in an attempt you assumed was to make you feel like you weren't alone in this world. You untucked yourself slightly, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Leon. His small smile was proof of that. “Some shitty life this is. Does it ever stop feeling so lonely? Like how do you explain this to someone? To people you want to be friends with or have in your life. I pushed everyone I knew before away because I just couldn’t explain it.” you asked him.

You were as shocked as Leon was that you had begun to confide in him. He assumed these were the types of conversations you would have with Chris or your brother. Yet, Ethan was married his whole seemingly working out okay and Chris had always been a lone wolf as of late. Consulting only with close friends with experiences similar to his own. Leon supposed he did the same, that’s why he had only spoken to Chris, Claire or anyone else he’d met over the years. You didn’t have that, you had only just begun and ended up trapped under rubble without even finding the scientist. To you this mission was a failure; to Leon, it was just beginners luck, no one ever had a good first day alone in this line of work. “I guess you don't, the people I've spoken to have similar experiences I guess, or at least are connected to the job. I’ve never fully felt like I had a friend” He answered, scooting closer to you. You sighed at the tiny bit of contact as his shoulder brushed you, almost a reminder that you were still human and not some monster your head constantly told you. You have seen what the mould could do, how it changed people's minds…corrupted them.“I’m sorry we just met, I didn’t mean to just dump this on you”

“I asked, didn’t I? About your past, how you ended up here”

You supposed he did, it wasn’t unprompted. Despite his tough exterior, something told you deep down he wasn’t always like this. Despite all the pain and trauma he either hid inside himself or washed away with an alcohol of his choice; he still wanted to help people. To make sure that the person he was talking to wasn’t alone. “Besides, I’d rather be trapped in here with you than Chris. At least I have more leg room”

Your laugh was sweet, lighter than the look that permeated your face since you had met him. It suited you. “I suppose you are better company than Chris, with his smoking habit I’d have probably suffocated with second-hand smoke”

Leon smiled as you opened up, as the knees lowered from your chest, lining up with his own. His froze as your head hit his shoulder, unused to the contact after being alone for so long (by his own choice). Leon laid his head on yours, the both of you silently leaning on each other as you remained trapped by your pasts, the futures uncertain. “You don’t happen to know how to make shadow puppets do you?”

#leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon

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genderqueerdykes · 1 day ago

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(tw: vent, relationship abuse, transphobia)

from 2020-2023, i was in a toxic relationship with a terf. she identified as a (still truscum-y) trans guy when we first got together, but about halfway through she detransitioned and pressured me to detransition as well. i identified as nonbinary at the time and i was scared of not listening to her, so i detransitioned because i thought i was being misogynistic if i didn’t. things just got worse, her transphobia got more radical, and we grew further apart, especially when i started questioning my identity again.

it’s been over a year since we broke up. i’ve started my transition as a trans man, i have her blocked on everything, but i still keep thinking about all the ways she hurt me. it feels like she’s winning. most sources i find on toxic relationships are really heteronormative and rely heavily on gender binaries, so they’ve been no help. do you have any advice on queer toxic relationships and/or unlearning internalized transphobia? thanks so much, no pressure to answer this if you don’t have the spoons

that's terrible, i'm so sorry you went through that. that's a long time to have to deal with someone pressuring you to change how you refer to yourself and how you see yourself. it's okay if someone needs to detransition but they should never force anyone else to just because transitioning like that was wrong for them. i'm so sorry she acted like she knew what was best for you. it's painful to watch someone fall down that rabbit hole and never come back. you want them to be kinder and to love themselves and everyone else, but it's just not the case

whenever people try to tell me that i "don't understand rad feminism", i point to experiences like yours. rad fems tell people that it's literally somehow "misogynistic" for trans men and mascs to transition. they tell people that that trans men and mascs are a danger to women. they tell people that trans men and mascs are confused and don't know any better. they tell trans men and mascs how to think, and they're doing it to everyone else, too. there's never a good reason to call someone misogynistic for transitioning

i would say maybe try to touch base with communities for transmasculine people and trans men. even if you meet a few people you like in the tags here, it's worth it. remind yourself that you weren't wrong, that person just thought she knew what was right for you. she saw something she hated in herself. it has nothing to do with how you should feel about yourself. you'll run into bumps and snags with how you feel about gender, especially your own. it's not a bad sign, it just takes time to get over the shitty things you were taught.

you can't dismantle it all at once, to take time, pace yourself. you were literally being groomed to hate yourself and other people. you need a moment before you can become proud of who you are. someone whittled you down until you were nearly nothing. that's not easy to move on from in a quick fashion. manhood is not evil. manhood is not what's hurting people. men are diverse. men are not a monolith. making blanket statements about men is profiling

i hope that helps some what, good luck, stay safe. i appreciate you for reaching out. it's not easy to deal with or move on from these kinds of things, but be as kind to yourself as you can. there's nothing wrong with transmanhood

#asks #answers #trans man #trans men #examples of transandrophobia #transandrophobia #antimasculism

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kiemiu · 4 hours ago

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𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝓢𝐈𝐗: 𝓒𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝓞𝐧 𝓨𝐨𝐮

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc 2.1k

summary -> getting an urgent call from the orphanage frightens you, until you realize the true reason why you were needed. warnings -> none. :)

( beneath the quiet masterlist )

9:20PM

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 help but silently thank whatever higher power above that gave you a valid excuse of getting out of the house without David breathing down your neck and accusing you of something degenerate.

Rolling your neck around, you gathered the energy to muster up a smile before entering the coffee shop. Gia had once again called you into work, no urgent tasks to handle, no deadlines looming, no sudden customer rush, it was just another case of her being desperate for some company. Spending time with her was easy, comforting even, so gaining the chance to escape the suffocating tension of your apartment, and him, felt like a gift. It was as if you could breathe properly again, even if only for a little while.

You rested your head against the car seat, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief second, savoring the fragile peace. But the sharp, sudden rapid knocking on your passenger window startling you out of your reverie. You jolted upright, clutching your chest as your eyes flew open in alarm, only to find Gia grinning like a mischievous child, her palms flattened against the glass.

“Come onnn! What are you waiting for?” she called out, her voice muffled but her playful pout unmistakable. She tapped her nails against the window with exaggerated urgency, her uniform slightly askew, and stray hairs falling loosely from her ponytail due to the wind.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes at her antics and grabbed your bag from the passenger seat. “Is anyone working with you today?” you asked as you got out of the car, brushing off the remnants of your nerves.

“Nope,” she replied with a nonchalant shrug, looping her arm through yours as the two of you made your way toward the shop. “Sohee was supposed to, but she called in sick.”

You stopped short, narrowing your eyes at her. “Wait, did you leave the shop completely unattended just to come shout at me?”

Gia grinned, entirely unrepentant. “Well, yeah. You were sitting out there for ages. I had to make sure you weren’t, you know, dead or something.” She leaped over the counter with the grace of someone who’d done it a hundred times before, plopping down on the other side like a cat claiming its territory.

“I pulled into the parking lot 5 minutes ago,” you deadpanned, setting your bag down at a nearby table and unpacking your laptop.

“Sure, sure,” she murmured, waving you off with exaggerated indifference before letting out a dramatic sigh and slumping forward on the counter. You couldn’t help but shake your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you powered on your computer.

You had planned to spend this quiet moment tackling the mountain of overdue schoolwork weighing on your conscience, but as you stared at the blank screen, your thoughts drifted elsewhere—back to your mother. They always did. Her absence hung over you like a shadow you couldn’t outrun. It wasn’t just the ache of loss that clung to you, but the unanswered questions, the way her death didn’t make any sense.

After 17 years of complete silence, you had finally been met with the opportunity to contact her. After so much wondering, so much yearning, you were finally going to meet her—your biological mother. The plan had been set, a meeting arranged for your 18th birthday. It would be in her hometown, she’d show you around and introduce you to all of your extended family, it would've been perfect. But a week before the long-awaited reunion, your adoptive mother had shattered your fragile hope with a single sentence: she was gone. Dead. Just like that, the one blood relative you knew of now a distant memory, a farce and a fantasy to something you foolishly desired.

Even now, months later, you couldn’t make sense of it. The documents they’d given you after her passing felt incomplete, fragments of a story left half-told. You’d read over them again and again, desperate to fill in the blanks, but each revelation only led to more confusion, more doubt. Nothing about her death fit together the way it should have. And that gnawing uncertainty, that lingering sense of something left undone, followed you everywhere—no matter how far you tried to run.

Just as the weight of exhaustion began to press heavily against your temples, your eyes glazing over the same set of documents you’d read a hundred times before, your phone suddenly buzzed against the table. The vibrations were rapid, insistent, breaking through the fog of weariness and pulling you back to the present. The screen lit up with a number you knew well—the orphanage’s main line.

You snatched up the phone, heart already picking up its pace and before you could even say hello, your mother’s voice poured through the speaker, sharp and hurried.

“Cheol’s asking for you,” she said, her tone tight and edged with frustration.

“Wh—me? Why? Is everything okay?” you stammered, already feeling your hands move on their own, quickly packing up your belongings.

“I—I don’t know! He won’t tell me anything—please, just come now,” she said, her voice cracking under the strain of stress.

You didn’t waste time replying. The call ended before you could form a coherent response, and you shoved the phone into your pocket, throwing your things into your bag with frantic hands. Next to you, Gia, who had dozed off with her head resting on your shoulder, jolted upright at the sudden burst of motion.

“Wait, are you leaving already?” she asked, blinking in confusion as she tried to process what was happening.

“Yeah, I—uh, something came up. I’m needed at the orphanage,” you said quickly, your words tumbling out as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll text you, okay?”

Gia hesitated, her worry evident in the way her brows knitted together, but she swallowed any protests, simply nodding instead. “Okay. Be safe,” she said softly, her voice almost drowned out by the sound of the door swinging shut behind you as you hurried out to your car.

The drive to the orphanage stretched endlessly, the familiar streets melting into an indistinct haze as your mind churned with countless possibilities. Each turn of the wheel felt slower than the last, the hour-and-a-half journey dragging on like an eternity. Your fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel, an outlet for the growing anticipation.

When you finally pulled into the gravel driveway, the crunch of stones under your tires barely registered as you started unbuckling your seatbelt, leaving your belongings behind as you hurried toward the entrance with a brisk jog.

Inside, the familiar hum of the orphanage greeted you, a mix of children’s chatter and the occasional laugh echoing through the halls. Around this time, the kids were enjoying their downtime after torturous hours of studying. Navigating the hallways, you made a beeline for the Boys’ Quarters, your eyes sweeping over the room as you entered. Some boys were sprawled out on their beds, a few immersed in comic books, and others dozing peacefully. It didn’t take long to spot Cheol, sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs dangling off to the side and swinging lazily.

Hearing your voice call his name, his head shot up, and his small face broke into a grin—a mixture of relief and playful mischief lighting up his features. His smile widening as you approach, kneeling down to meet him at eye level.

“Cheol,” you breathed, your voice gentle but edged with concern. “Is everything okay?” your eyes scanning him quickly.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression calm, though his eyes sparkled with something unreadable. “I’m okay,” he said with a small nod. “I was just wondering why you weren’t here yesterday or today.”

The tension in your shoulders melted, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief. The weight you’d carried on the drive over lifted as a faint smile touched your lips. “Cheol,” you said softly, “I don’t work on weekends, remember? I’m only here on weekdays.”

He nodded again, his gaze dropping to his lap, where his small hands fidgeted with the edge of his blanket. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face. “Noona was looking for you,” he murmured quietly.

You blinked, confusion evident on your face as you leaned in slightly. “Your sister, Sae-byeok?” you asked, the words coming out unsteady and slow.

Another nod, his fingers curling into the soft fabric beneath him. “Mhm,” he affirmed. “She said she wanted to thank you for helping me at movie night.”

From under his blanket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, its edges worn and torn with a mysterious orange stain. Written across the shredded piece of paper in neon green crayon was a phone number, accompanied by smaller, tidier writing, obviously written in a haste: ‘ Kang Sae-byeok. For emergencies only. I respond faster to texts. ‘

You took the note delicately, treating it as though it were fine china. Your thumb slowly brushes over the creased surface, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Cheol,” you whispered, a genuine smile spreading across your face. Raising a hand, you ruffled his hair affectionately.

He giggled, catching your wrist in his smaller hand and pressing it to his cheek. “Are you staying for dinner?” he asked suddenly, his wide, hopeful eyes locking onto yours.

Your heart tugged at the question. As much as you wanted to stay, you couldn't. Still having other responsibilities to tend to. A small frown crept onto your face as you shook your head. “Not tonight, Cheol,” you said gently. “But tomorrow, I’ll eat dinner with you. Pinkie promise.” You held out your pinkie, waiting.

Without hesitation, he hooked his pinkie around yours, his face lighting up once more. “And Noona will be there too,” he added with a cheeky grin.

You laughed softly, ignoring the uncomfortable knot that formed in your chest at the thought of actually sitting down to have a conversation with her. “I can’t wait,” you replied, your voice warm but quiet. With a playful pinch of his cheek, you added, “But listen, Cheol, I have to go now. Don’t give my mom any more trouble while I’m gone, okay?”

Though you tried to sound stern, there was no real authority behind your voice, and Cheol could tell. He gave you a mischievous smile, his eyes glinting as he replied, “Can’t make any promises.”

You shook your head, an amused chuckle escaping as you stood up. He flopped back onto his bed, opening a comic book and hiding his quiet laughter behind its colorful cover. You watched him for a moment, that mischievous grin still playing on his lips, before turning toward the door. Even as you left, the sound of his soft giggles followed you, lingering in the air like a reassuring reminder of why you always came back.

As you made your way back to your car, the gentle breeze brushing against your face did little to distract you from the crumpled note in your hand. Its weight felt far heavier than the paper itself, your thoughts spiraling with every step toward the vehicle.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, you shut the door behind you, cutting off the outside world. The momentary quiet inside the car gave you a fleeting sense of peace, but it was quickly replaced by a nervous energy thrumming beneath your skin. The note rested in your lap, its edges curling slightly, as if urging you to act. With trembling hands, you picked up your phone, the screen glowing softly.

Your fingers hovered uncertainly over the keyboard. The words felt trapped, refusing to come out the way you wanted. ' Yo, it’s Kim Y/N from the orphanage.' Delete. 'Heyyy, it’s–' No, no that's way too deserpate. again. Each failed attempt only heightened the tension coiling in your chest.

Finally, after cycling through countless drafts and second-guessing yourself more times than you could count, you settled on something simple and straight-forward.

' Hi Sae-byeok, it’s Kim Y/N from the orphanage. :) '

You reread the message twice, your thumb hesitating over the send button. Then, with a deep breath, you pressed it. The message disappeared, and the phone screen dimmed as you locked it, placing the device on the center console as though distancing yourself from it might make the moment feel less significant.

Leaning back against the headrest, you closed your eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply. Your hand instinctively found the pendant hanging from your necklace, fingers curling around it as if seeking comfort. When your eyes opened again, they caught the faintest hint of a smile on your face reflected in the rearview mirror—a smile that surprised even you.

What are you doing to me, Kang Sae-byeok?

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection @yourl0caltrash @kidicaruslover911 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @i0nic02 @knfthxv @mina-has-been-here @monroesturnns

#kang saebyeok x fem!reader #kang sae byeok x fem!reader #kang saebyeok x reader #kang sae byeok x reader #kang saebyeok #kang sae byeok #067 x reader #player 067 x reader #player 067 #067 #squid game x fem!reader #squid games x reader #squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #squid game

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agnireed · 4 hours ago

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THINGS UNSAID

summary 🏹 others notice what you and daryl feel for eachother but it takes longer for the connection to reach the two of you.

word count 🏹 4.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, side character POVs at the start, smut lol

thanks to @irisdixon1023 for the fun idea! hope i did it justice even if i changed somethings

There were plenty of events that you had found yourself in the background of throughout the apocalypse.

You’d had to put things together at the drop of an eye because there were some questions you just didn’t ask. You didn’t need to be told the new man approaching camp was Carl’s father, evident enough by the way his mouth dropped open and Lori’s eyes flashed with hot fear and betrayal.

That unfolded in your mind exactly the same way as when you saw Shane come back from the woods with a busted nose and a manic look so intense it almost took your breath away, something cold and knowing settling in your gut but not quite strong enough for you to accuse him of planning anything.

You never put much thought into how you might come across to somebody just observing new people you’ve met on the road that might be making their own judgements on you. The end of the world had brought one relief and that was from the constant thought about your own presentation and what a stranger might think of you.

These already drawn conclusions were exactly the reason you were so confused with yourself for being so absorbed with why the red headed man kept glancing in your direction.

Truthly Abraham had never been somebody who bothered sugarcoating his words and pretending to be something he was not and that included being the type of person who was extremely curious about a certain dynamic he had seen unfolding in front of him.

He had only spent a few hours with you in the train car but he had managed to make a damn near solid case if he did say so himself and he was juggling with how much it was being challenged as soon as a few more bodies were thrown into the mix.

Both of you had looked worse for wear when his team found you alongside the gravely road, Glenn barely standing upright as they approached and then fully face planting the asphalt while you stared at him with a look that seemed to be a mixture of exhaustion and determination.

You kept your sentences short and sweet while Glenn was unconscious and you climbed into the back of the large truck but Abraham had a hard time being upset about your lack of manners considering you’d clearly been through hell's asshole before they had arrived.

His plans continued to be derailed and you proved to be a serious pain in the behind but he had felt strongly enough about his people reading to assume that you were one of two things, either just a bit slow emotionally or completely in love with the man you were traveling with.

Of course he felt only a bit disgruntled when said man actually woke up and spoke only of a loving wife that he clearly would stop at nothing to find in a very large haystack but then that could explain the heartbroken look you wouldn’t stop carrying around.

It made full sense to him that you were in love with a taken man and so desperately that you were willing to risk your life to help him be happy with somebody else so he was now fully offended when he offered this idea to Glenn one night after you’d fallen asleep, just for him to laugh in his face.

Then you had been thrown into the traincar and you suddenly took on a heavy expression of grief, like you had only just now accepted you were not going to find whatever it was that you were looking for. He had figured beforehand that you had lost someone permanently but apparently you had a mission of your own.

When the doors were opening again, this time he was happy to be an observer.

The two men entering the car looked equally as deadly as you had standing on that road side and ready to go to war for your friend's limp body and he almost pieced together they were a part of your larger group before any of you actually had turned to notice them.

Everybody tensed at the same time and then it felt like the air in the train car suddenly got much lighter.

You’d barely looked at the bearded man that seemed to automatically capture everybody's attention first, almost like they were waiting for him to give them a command before they even processed he was standing in front of them again.

Your eyes were stuck on someone else entirely and he was happy to finally have some entertainment after being sat next to a mumbling Eugene for far too many hours.

He didn’t need a lick of guessing to know what type of man the second was and he almost wanted to have his guard farther up if it wasn’t for the young boy beside him, peering around with big scared eyes. (Plus the fact he had come to respect you and the sight of you staring like the rugged man had hung the stars was good enough reason to relax).

The bearded man seemed to finally notice you standing there and he gave you an overwhelmingly fatherlike look, seeming like he wanted to pull you into a hug but deciding against it for reasons Abraham couldn’t quite figure out just yet.

His counterpart didn’t have the same problem and you let out a sob when he finally looked over to you, his entire tense frame melting like a little kid as he stumbled his way through the dark train car so he could fall against you.

You cradled his head like it was the single most important thing in the world and your friends around you seemed like they were suddenly walking on eggshells to avoid disturbing you and making you pull out of the emotional moment.

First assumption was that you were related in some way but that quickly faded when he noticed the way the man had his hands low on your back, squeezing and pulling you closer and closer like he could feel you slipping through his fingers.

There was nothing overtly romantic about it and certainly not sexual, not with the way you sobbed harder seeing his bruised face and sullen expression, but it definitely was too close for comfort if you were father and daughter adjacent.

Second assumption was gone as fast as it came, absolutely not lovers judging by the way you were quick to stumble out of his grasp as soon as you noticed Maggie and Glenn watching curiously, his hands lingering but eventually having to fall back to his side once you were out of reaching distance.

You made haste to hug the young boy and distract yourself from the blatant showcase of something that most likely was a secret, both to each other and the others but possibly to yourselves.

The man didn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time you all sat there devising a plan and you sobbed like a woman scorned when they were throwing flash bangs inside the car before dragging him away, having to send a swift kick to your ribs to get you to let go of his arm.

Abraham observed a scary switch in you now that he was gone again and the small almost fragile girl from before was once again replaced with the silent and constantly armed one, all emotions stripped down to your bare bones until you were left with instinct alone.

He kept watching your group during the days that followed the fall of Terminus, building up his strongly held opinions on each of them individually and then again in pairs and larger clumps. He couldn’t help the fact that you and Daryl struck his interest, boredom taking over for the most part although Rostia had told him he needed to get a better hobby.

It was impossible not to wonder now that he knew more about the two of you, although he’d yet to speak to your male counterpart. There was a large part of him that figured it wouldn’t end too pleasantly and he was halfway busy with sucking up to you all so you’d accompany him to the end of the line for Eugene and the cure.

So he didn’t pick a fight with the archer although he wasn’t sure you would have allowed it anyways.

You were small in size but he had managed to get a few glimpses of what you could do with rage and a blunt wooden stick alone back at Terminus so he wasn’t particularly interested in seeing how you fared with a knife.

You were constantly next to Daryl and it was almost a foreign sight to see one of you without the other, a strange feeling settling over anyone whenever you’d wander in alone or the rare times he went hunting without you.

There was a glint in your eye whenever somebody talked to you, like you were ready to pounce on your own family members if you needed to just to keep the man next to you safe at all cost. He was halfway to asking Maggie if you had been like that before you were separated or if it was a new adjustment but he decided against it when he saw her fondly holding Rick’s baby.

He was finding it a bit ridiculous that there were so many moving parts in your poorly oiled machine yet it was running smoothly and, not only that, but you actually seemed to love and care about each other beyond means of survival.

Abraham decided it wasn’t any of his business anymore as soon as he ruled you and Daryl off the list of potential people who would come along on his mission, pushing you to the back of his mind to will off any distractions.

_____

Maggie had always known there was something lingering deep in you for the older man but she was quickly realizing she didn’t know the half of it apparently because the way you gripped onto him for dear life was extremely telling.

She was already surprised enough that you had practically leapt into his arms but what really struck her was how willing he was to fold over into you and meet your sobs with cries of his own.

She knew Daryl was more than what he looked like, more than what he even said most of the time but that still didn’t mean he was ever this open and vulnerable around any of them before. Even Rick sent her a thrown off look that she fought hard in the few seconds it lasted to try and understand.

Your mood had been sour for the time it took you all to find Terminus after reuniting her and Glenn but there were a thousand things she would’ve guessed as the cause of it before assuming you were mourning Daryl Dixon.

Maybe she had been blinded by her own worries and the blossoming of her love so she didn’t pay attention to the signs or maybe they were just new but they were impossible to ignore now although every one seemed to be trying their very best.

Did he always hand you your portion of food first, followed by sneaking bites of his own onto your plate when you both pretended you weren’t watching him do it?

Had it always been almost instinct that you would fall asleep next to each other, never touching but close enough to touch if you ever just reached out? She was thinking now that she wasn’t sure you slept the entire time you spent on the tracks, always awake on a watch shift when she drifted off and staring into the dying fire by the time she opened her eyes again.

Yet you seemed to have no problem drifting off with your head on Daryl’s shoulder.

When did Daryl stop flinching under your touch and since when were you so touchy anyways? Your hands were almost constantly rubbing up and down his arm or holding onto his wrist like you were stopping him from leaving except he didn’t seem to ever be going anywhere, not from you at least.

She wondered if you always looked so calm and gentle when peering up at him or if that was also a new development. She couldn’t read his gaze back down on you and she wasn’t really sure she wanted to, feeling guilty about her silent spying.

Glenn told her that it wasn’t a big deal and everybody people watched but he also denied seeing anything between the two of you so either he was lying to make her feel better or he simply wasn’t watching hard enough.

There wasn’t anything wrong with the age difference in her mind but she still occasionally caught Rick sending the two of you glances and she almost hoped it was just his fatherly urge to protect you like he always had.

_____

You could tell something had changed between you and Daryl but you weren’t too focused on defining whatever it was.

He had always been the number one person you paid attention to and you couldn’t stop thinking about him your entire stay at the prison but the pain of losing him and thinking it was for forever was clearly the push you needed to never let him forget this again, even though you hadn’t told him directly.

There was no way he didn’t know how you felt when you stared into his eyes and kept your hand on his chest, whispering lowly how happy you were for him to be back with you. He would have to truly be the dimmest person in the world to think your reaction to seeing him again was just a fluke or you not thinking straight.

Daryl must be aware of how you feel because you don’t think he would risk treating you the way he did if he didn’t.

He was sweet to you and doted on you like you were already lovers and his favoritism was apparent to anybody who paid attention for more than a few minutes. He remained as gruff and abrasive as always but he let you brush the hair from his face and his tone sounded far sweeter aimed towards you.

You knew he had feelings for you and you also knew he wouldn’t let you in on that secret unless he suspected you felt similarly.

“Couldn’t even breathe.” You had found yourself outside the stuffy church together again, somewhere just off in the treeline and leaning against a thick tree stump.

His back was pressed into the bark but your own was against his chest, sat on the drying leaves between his spread legs and laying back on him, his hands resting skillfully next to your thighs so he wasn’t touching you too directly.

“Hm?” His hum was low and sweet and you noted that he sounded like he was drifting off to

sleep, a light smile on your face at his abandoned defensive walls even though the topic of conversation was rather heavy.

“I pictured them all going one way or another but not you, never ever you.” You picked one of his hands off the ground so you could hold it in your own, resting in the air above your stomach as you smoothed over his rough calloused skin and traced shapes on his palm.

He said nothing when you sighed and relaxed your limbs again, this time with his hand landing on your stomach and being enclosed by yours so he couldn’t remove it so easily. You could feel his heartbeat pick up on your back and your mouth turned up with fondness.

You didn’t need him to remind you for the hundredth time that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was still right here with you but it was still nice to hear him grumble it in his low voice, almost a shy whisper that you had to preen to hear.

Daryl may have needed to actually feel the effect of your death before he started to slowly showcase his affectionate side but you thought it was well worth the wait, feeling beyond grateful that he hadn’t pulled away from your clinginess yet.

You figured it would just be a few days of needing him close to process that he wasn’t gone after first losing him in the smoke of the prison and then watching him get ripped away in a similar fog as soon as you had him back finally but days turned into weeks and you were still trying to find a way to silence the ache.

His heart was only picking up in speed when you were using your hand to move his slowly, so slow you could barely tell it was going anywhere at all. You pushed it until his pinky finger was under the button of your small jean shorts and you paused when you heard his breath stutter.

Part of you wanted to turn back and check his expression, make sure this was something that he wanted but you couldn’t gather the courage. Instead you sat there with your hands like that and you felt a jolt of electricity when he was moving his hand on his own.

You didn’t let it get far, barely brushing the hem of your underwear before you were swiftly sitting up in a way that clearly startled him.

He didn’t have long to overthink and wonder if he had misread the situation because now you were on your knees in between his spread legs, as close as you could get and swaying forward like you were going to lay on his chest again.

The reality was much different than he expected and lifetimes better, your lips slotting against his and automatically drawing a high pitched sound from you. There had been countless times Daryl wondered what you sounded like and the knowledge was seering itself into his brain now, longing to bring more out of you.

Your hands were on his face and you were scrambling forward so you could be sat in his lap, legs on either side of his waist as you desperately leaned into the kiss. He was easily matching your pace and you felt an overwhelming heat when you heard him groan into your mouth.

“Daryl.” The sound of his name in that tone was enough to make anybody insane and his hands on your body proved it, one hand on your lower back but the other directly touching those godforsaken jean shorts you wore.

They were poor excuses for fabric and there had been a dozen times when you'd bent over in front of him long enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties underneath, long enough for him to run a hand over his face and disappear into the guard tower for a few hours.

Now there was no reason to pretend he wasn’t looking at you, wasn’t running his rough hands over your perfectly smooth and innocent body. That seemed to be the only innocent thing about you considering your hips were starting to rock in his lap, just slow enough to make his head spin dangerously.

His big hands were both cupping your ass now and helping you move against him, loving the way you could barely kiss him as you struggled to hold your whines in.

“Feels so good.” You sounded absolutely pathetic and wrecked and he knew right then and there that he was truly perverted, grunting into your open mouth and thrusting his hips up to make you really feel him against your sensitive core. One of your hands had been running through his hair and you tugged at the feeling, crying out in surprise.

“Cmon sweetheart.” His voice was so low and raspy, vibrations going straight to your core and making you rock harder against him.

Your lips were swollen and wet when you moved them from his mouth down to his jaw, sucking and biting the skin wherever you could and making sure he was grunting straight into your ear so you could commit the sounds to memory.

He barely flinched when you sat up to pull your tank top off, a bit too hasty considering it was getting stuck on your arms for a second and he had to help you, eyes hazy when your head finally emerged and he could really look at you,

You felt touched that he watched your eyes for a few heavy breaths before he even bothered to let his gaze move down to your bare chest, rising and falling with your nipples standing at attention off his stare alone. His hands weren't wasting any time before gently cupping your soft mounds and your mouth parted in another high whine at the feeling.

Hips moving slower but still just as addicting, you were letting him worship your tits and really take his time memorizing the way your body looked on top of his like this.

Daryl had pictured you in a hundred scenarios that brought shame to his core and sometimes the disgust was enough to bury it back down but more often than not, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted this no matter how wrong it may be.

“No idea how much I thought about these hands.” Your voice was the highest pitch he’d ever heard and you were softly stuttering through your words like you’d forgotten where to place them, hand back in his hair and trying to be sly with the way you were moving his head downwards. “This mouth.. f-fuck.”

He may not be the most experienced, certainly not with girls as young and pretty as you but Daryl wasn’t as idiot. It was almost second nature to wrap his mouth around your nipple once he understood that’s what you were silently asking for, his entire arm wrapping around your back to keep you locked in place.

His muscles flexed when you made an extra loud sound and you suddenly remembered just how strong he really was, capable of really doing some damage to you right now if he decided that’s what he wanted. The thought sent heat further through you and you gasped out his name in repeated cries.

You were fully humping against him now and trying to get as much pressure on your core as you could but he was firm in his hold on your middle, practically making out with your tits in a way that was so lewd and filthy you felt lightheaded.

“I need more.” You were desperate now and on the verge of a sob, yanking on his hair impatiently and immediately diving into a nasty kiss the second he lifted his head to glare at you. Your tongue was so deep in his mouth he was able to fully suck on it, low sounds leaving him constantly now.

You hadn’t even realized you were falling until you hit the ground with his heavy frame falling over you, spreading your legs so he could slot himself between them easily.

“F-fuck you’re so hard.” You knew you sounded beyond fucked out already just from some dirty kissing but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Although you clearly didn’t need to considering you weren’t at all exaggerating and Daryl was fully hard and moving his core against yours like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Pretty little thing.” His lack of vocalization didn’t bother you, not expecting it from him in the first place but you were almost grateful for his silence because it made every word he did say sound so much sweeter.

Daryl had never complimented you so directly before and it sounded ridiculous to flush over him calling you pretty while you were laying in the leaves, bare chest out and his hard on rubbing against you but it still made your body warm in a much purer heat than the rest of your body.

He did everything in his life with an aged roughness you had realized a long time ago, hands weapons even when he didn’t mean for them to be and even when it ate him up inside afterwards so you felt particularly touched that he had a gentle grasp on your ribs and hip like he was terrified of hurting you.

Although the thought of him hurting you did light something deep inside of you on fire but you decided to push that away and deal with it another time, slowing down your kisses once he started to fidget with the button and zipper on your shorts.

It was quick to go from dirty to romantic and you were grateful for the change even though you enjoyed the former just as much, the longing in your heart for a real sign that he felt similarly being slightly fulfilled when he was moving a hand to cup your cheek and really pay attention to the softer kiss.

You could tell he found amusement in his own patience bringing forth the opposite in you, a whiny annoyed noise leaving you as you started to tug at his belt impatiently and try to get him to resume what he was doing before you distracted him.

“Take it easy girl.” He was so close and the whispered words, light and affectionate enough that you almost forgot how lewd you were currently, made your eyes widened as you stared up at him hovering over you.

He made eye contact with you for only a brief second before he was looking away and you could see a heavy shyness in him that was directly opposite to the way he was pulling your shorts down your thighs and touching you before you’d even felt the wet air on your core.

Your breath caught in your throat and you wrapped your hands around his back, resting on his shoulder blades and you knew his vest would have the shape of your fingernails indented in the leather for a long time to come.

The low humming noise he was making against your neck seemed to be approval towards your neverending wetness and you were letting out a breathy laugh of pure hazy disbelief when you felt the head of his hard cock pressing against you.

You could hear him softly shushing you in a soothing manner, trying to get you to relax enough that he could actually push inside without seriously hurting you. You wondered if he could tell you had never done this before, suddenly self conscious that your inexperience was radiating off of you.

Unknown to you, he was thinking the same thing about himself and hoping you couldn’t feel the way his entire body was tensing to stop from pushing in before you were ready out of pure desperation that only you could bring out of him. It was hard not to act like a horny teenager when you were panting like you were getting fucked hard just from him touching your tits.

The combination was deadly and the sound he made when he started to actually fuck you was even worse, damn near ending your life then and there just to be immediately brought back when you felt the hot pain between your legs.

Now your pants were telling a different story and he did his best to slow down and let you get used to the sheer size of him stretching you out, not realizing the way your pupils were dilating and you were purposefully tightening your legs around his waist.

“M-more.” You were begging now as the pain started to go down and he gave you a look that told you he thought you were crazy, eyebrows furrowed as he started to shake his head in disagreement. “Please Daryl love it so much, hurts so good.”

That seemed to silence both the man above you and the entire forest, his body stiffening for a few seconds too long and your heart started to race with something not as nice as the flirty nervousness you normally felt around him.

You almost opened your mouth to apologize to him for making him uncomfortable, try to explain yourself and why you liked something like that without actually knowing the reason yourself. Instead your lips parted with another high whine when he started to move, clearly getting over whatever had made him pause and making it his personal mission to give you exactly what you wanted.

Daryl would never leave your sight again and you would stop at nothing to make sure of that so you had plenty of time for gentle, endless days to fill with romance and soft kisses that made your cheeks red. Today, however, was going to be reserved for something else entirely and you could’ve truly died happy there on the leaves with him on top of you.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #rick grimes

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just-hyde · 22 hours ago

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AI is theft.

Character.Ai still uses **stolen** data. Support real artists and writers. RP with real people.

IAMREALpleasegimmeahotchocotugmeinandgimmeasinglegoodreasontoliiiveeeeaaaaAAAAAAA

*Breakdown joins the chat*

An anon? How courageous of you. /lh

Actually right now you did what many chatbot users do— hide behind Persona just in case people don't accept your writing/rp style. But it's easier to play safe, I give you that. Your mental health should be your first priority no matter what people say

I do my art, write snippets of text, develop OCs and RP with people, but still make chatbots on different platforms

Why?

For shits and giggles

But no, friends, seriously

We already live with that and apparently are gonna continue to, unless the authorities decide to step in

For me cai was a tool to improve my vocabulary since 1) not so many native speakers were willing/had time to help, 2) even if they did, we had jobs and damn timezones which made our coordination harder, 3) I found out that ppl were simply too shy to play

Recently I've learned the term "Cringe culture" which is cringe itself and hella annoying at that— some writers are fucking scared to post, to be met with toxicity instead of actually useful critique

Anywho, the topic is controversial af.

On one hand, it did writers dirty. Well, fuck. On the other hand, your T9 was also trained on something and I deem LLM no much smarter than a huge T9 [a predictive text technology which almost every keyboard for phones and tablets has]

The problem I see is that the ai developers didn't ask for any data

How much easier everything would go if they had manners and/or paid for some materials? I usually don't mind lending a pen if someone asks, but can bite one's hand off if they grab it

As you might've noticed, I wanna use this ask to bring up some other interesting topics

My man, I've heard enough of "Why trying if ai renders better than me/uses better words"

Anxiety.

That's what makes me sad

If we ever manage to change that, to make people realise that human-made art is a freaking precious treasure with hours of effort spent on it, maybe earth heals and unicorns return

You buy funny one-nickel-worth stuff from Aliexpress, no? That's AI. As well as a half-gnawled pencil one finds in their old school backpack to write down an anecdote they've just heard

It's easy to focus on the bad side

If fish is ill in a dirty tank, are you gonna add more sand? Pfftt. I assume you gonna change filters, scrub that bastard clean and add more lil fishies to make others feel less lonely, instead of rumbling that you shouldn't have gotten any new weeds for the the bowl in the first place, because, who would've guessed, fish eat that. And poop. —a process natural as breathing

My suggestion is that we try to create a safe space which would encourage writing outside of roleplay, make young artists feel safe regardless of their level of skill

Or maybe I'm too far from the Internet in general and don't understand why writing example messages for a silly toy is suddenly a bad thing when it encourages kids to try themselves in text RPGs without any risk of being judged for that

An interesting topic you gave me, really, I've spent some time contemplating about it

Feel free to suggest things that we, as a community, can do right here and right now, because, gods know, I'm personally unable to atta-ta a corporation for "using language we all speak", especially when chatbots have some features which would be a damn shame not to use in language learning since it's so engaging and teaches kids new words in a forgiving game-like way

Though I hope there will be some law regulating ai and the use of ai-made products soon. Let's give it some time

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the-universal-sun · 1 day ago

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Okay first of all I love your first post was bonding to my ask but also I was wondering could I get some head cannons on Ford being the twins caregiver( the baby twins Dipper and Mabel)

@pinkyshy10 i want to make sure I get the notification that's why I'm tacking myself

Thank you for your ask, of course you can get some hc of Ford being Dipper and Mabel’s caregiver! I loved writing this request so much! The babies! ! I did talk about Stanley helping some, but this is all Ford caregiving for the twins! The three of them are such cuties!!! I hope it lives up to your expectations! I’m so sorry it’s so late, I’ve got a back log but I’m working through them! Please stay nice and warm this week!

I’ll tag you here so you can see it too, just in case: @pinkyshy10

As always, I’m always open for helpful comments and critiques!

Sending you all the loce in the world!

-_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-

-Ford never expected to be a caregiver to two small children, nonetheless children that regress, but he takes it in stride. He loves his niblings and would do anything for them, so of course he’s more than willing to watch over and care for them, letting the two of them crawl into his bed when they have a nightmare or two

-He’ll ease them back to sleep with the more happy tales from his time dimension hopping, telling them how cute they looked in that baby dimension. He’ll pat their backs and brush their hair-trying to remember how it was his mother and then Stanley consoled him. They snuggle on his chest and pass out near instantaneously once he gets them settled

-He did feel overwhelmed at first, but he has Stanley to support him and calm him down. It helps that the twins don’t always regress together, though it’s more often than not

-Ford would be a less stern caregiver for the twins than Stanley would be. Surprising everyone, but this is the man who gave a 12 year old a crossbow

-He’s stricter with what they eat and when they sleep, but for everything in between Ford has more of a “all long as nobody gets seriously injured” mindset

-They need nap time and semi-nutritious food. Nap time isn’t hard, but it’s not easy. The twins, energetic on the regular, are hyperactive when they regress, if they could bounce off the walls, Ford bets they would. To get them to take a nap, he’ll try to tire them out but chasing them, but when that doesn’t always work, he’ll wrap them up tightly in a big blanket, lay them down with some pillows in the floor, turn down the lights, and either play a really boring black and white that would him to sleep or roughly hum an old lullaby he picked up from someone, scratching their heads to lull them to sleep

-He uses their nap time to get some alone time, decompress and to breathe from all the energy he had been surrounded with, Stanley looking over the twins to give him brother a break

-Food is…another issue. Ford can make a mean sandwich and pour juice and milk, he can put fruits and veggies on a tray with some cheese or dipping sauce, but he cannot cook. Not well and not palatable enough for two regressed tweens, if they want edible Mac and cheese or pancakes, it’s either they don’t get any and Ford’s at the wrong end of sad puppy dog eyes, or he’s asking Stanley to make them

-He won’t let them eat Greasy’s when he’s caring for them, he thinks it’s too unhealthy for such young children (and he had such a bad experience there he never wants to go back)

-It took some getting used to, caring for Dipper and Mabel when they regress, but he does have help in the form of Stanley, who’ll act as a babysitter if Ford needs to have his attention elsewhere for a moment or two. Ford also learned the basics of caring for children from Stan, though he has to modify it to fit in with the twins’ smaller ages

-It surprised him to find out that Little Dipper (so Ford’s nickname for him now) is more talkative than a Little Mabel. She does talk, but she’s quieter, more content to observe, unless you bring up a topic she’s super interested in. Dipper, however will go on and on about anything and everything. He is a “but why” little, which, Ford loves how inquisitive Dipper is, always wanting to know more, but at the same time, when he’s been asked “but why not?” 10 times in a row, he needs to steer the conversation to something else

-He tries to set individual little time with the twins so he can engage with them one-on-one, it’s in these cases that Stan will watch the other twin. He does arts and crafts and tea parties with Mabel, sometimes putting together Lego sets if it’s one she seems interested in. Sometimes they’ll just cuddle and watch a movie if that’s what she wants. He very much likes gossiping with her stuffed animals at the tea parties, spreading the most juicy inter-dimensional rumors.

-With Dipper, they’ll do puzzles, put together legos, and paint. Dipper loves finger painting when he’s feeling small, Ford doesn’t mind that he gets everything messy even with a smock on, his boy doesn’t look anxious or tired, his eyes bright and lacking their usual bags. If he starts asking too many questions, Ford may sometimes turn on a kid friendly documentary to keep him distracted

-Dipper and Mabel both love it when Ford reads to them, he gets so into the characters and get super dramatic, making them laugh and squeal behind their pacifiers

-They both have pacifiers, Dipper because he keeps chewing on his shirts, Mabel because she wanted to be like him, but actually really liked how soothing it is

-Dipper’s nickname is the Little Dipper and Mabel is Ford’s Meteorite. He thinks the names are cute, no matter how much Stanley may tease him about it

-No Mabel Juice when they’re little. Never again.

-Even when regressed, these two love to chase mysteries and go exploring, getting into as much mischief as possible with Ford’s eyes on them. He does allow them to go on adventures in Gravity Falls with him, but only if they’re kiddie friendly and he has to keep an eye on them at all times (Stanley’s rules). He only goes about 50 feet into the forest, which is plenty fun for them, they love running around and picking up every shiny rock and cool stick they find, sometimes wondering off too far if something catches their eye.

-Ford almost had a heart attack when he couldn’t find Dipper one day, looking everywhere, while holding Mabel in his arms, only to find him further in the trees arguing with a gnome

-The twins now have backpack leashes for when they leave the shack while regressed. It’s safer for them and makes it less liable that their Grunkle’s have a heart attack

-Ford loves his niblings, he doesn’t mind caring for them whatever their headspace may be. They’re both such caring and lovable individuals, it brings a pleasant ache in his chest to know that they care for him, trust him so much, that they allow themselves to be vulnerable like this around him. He loves his little family so much

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caterkinnie · 1 day ago

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Hi Caterkinnie! Your work is really amazing, thank you so much for all your work in the fandom! I think anyone who sees your headcanons days are brightened! May I request Rook, Jamil, Ruggie and Azul or Vil (up to you) with a friend they have been deeply in love with for a long time, who's just broken up from a long-term bad relationship. I'd find it really interesting to see the angst the boys struggled with while their friend was in such a bad relationship--a relationship that would somehow never end no matter how awful or neglectful their partner was (up to your imagination how their partner was)--and how they handled not letting their deepening love/crush show (if that's how they'd handle it. I honestly have no idea as to how Rook especially would handle this situation). And of course, now that there's been an unprecedented breakup, what now? I hope that wasn't too specific. I just thought it'd be interesting because I just broke up from a long-term relationship @__@ (5 years for me... In my case, I was dating a selfish man child. According to my friends, it was heartbreaking to watch because no matter what they said/did or what he said/did it would never end, so they just had to watch the rollercoaster play out while white knuckled). I haven't seen headcanons on this type of situation yet and how the boys would respond, so I'd love to see your headcanons. Not to mention, your writing is so top knotch, and I feel like you really get the complexity of so many of these characters, that I was pumped to ask when I saw your requests are open. If it's too specific or you're not feeling it, I get it! I hope you keep rocking on with this blog and whatever else you're up to! Thank you for the hardwork!

Supporting you through a bad break up...

❥ ⌗ characters: Rook hunt, Jamil Viper, Ruggie Bucchi, Azul Ashengrotto.

❥ ⌗ Summary: After a long long time with the person who you thought was the love of your life, ended the relationship suddenly with the pretext he was no longer in love. You decided to confide your feelings with your closest friend; a friend who happened to be deeply in love with you.

❥ ⌗ tags: tw for toxic relationship, though details aren't given, there are mentions of arguments and toxic behaviour. didn't proofread enough. sorry if ooc.

❥ ⌗ a/n: sorry anon!!!!!!! I've had this drafted since you requested this... and only now i finished it!!! i couldn't bring myself to delete it as I loved the idea so much. Hope if you see this that you're doing so much better now!!!!

Rook made it very clear from the beginning he had feelings for you, but would not attempt to show them.

He also could see the signs of what seemed to be an unhappy relationship that sooner or later was going to come to an end; signs you probably didn't notice.

He's a very caring man, ever since the moment he met you he always tried to help you in any way, and this was no exception; but he also knew, as much as it hurt him, you needed time to realize that the person you loved didn't treat you in the way you deserved to be treated. It hurt him so deeply to see the way he talked to you, but Rook wasn't a hero who would yell at your boyfriend to stop. He had to be subtle — trying to calm the waters when he was around, defending you in his own way. His heart ached, sometimes with jealousy, sometimes with rage — sometimes both, but he refused to let you know about any of these emotions. He was there for you, whether you needed help or advice.

He helped you because he loved you, he constantly told you how important you were to him and there was nothing he wished more than to take you away and treat you like a queen. But alas, his love was not only unrequited, you were in love with someone else.

Oh, how glad he'd be if only one day you woke up and chose him! The selfish part of him wanted to rush, but he knew he had to be patient... Someday it'd happen, or at the very least... you'd be with someone else who makes you happy, and that's something he would like as well.

But when you come to him to tell him everything that happened...

He's going to comfort you and walk you through the feelings the breakup left… In those cases, he's not as mischievous as he typically is. His voice is soft and soothing, as he tries to get your mind off things, as well as being of support when you need it the most…

He can't bring himself to court you while doing so, although deep down, he wishes someday you'll see his efforts, even if he's not exactly expecting you to fall for him…

However, your now ex-boyfriend will avoid you like the plague, and runs away when Rook is nearby, and you wonder if he had something to do with that….

Jamil warned you about your partner a few times, he didn't want to get TOO involved to avoid making you upset, but every time the subject was brought up…. he felt a deep heaviness in his heart that he hated.

The least thing he wanted was for you to notice his feelings. But maybe he was too insistent on the idea that it was best if you broke up…

But those were genuinely good feelings. He saw how bad you were being treated and constantly found himself thinking… “I could do better, so much better…” Yet he hated himself for it. What could he do, if you never saw anything in him?

He feels all of these things, yet it's like… he only wants you to Not Be with your boyfriend. Jamil believes you'd never love him back as well.

If you came to him for advice, he'd give it to you— but his voice was always restrained… and soon enough, he just tried his best to act as if his feelings weren't there, as if he was just a friend who gave advice and was exhausted by you not following it.

But then… it finally happened, but as happy as he felt, seeing how much it affected you.. it didn't feel like victory (even if it was!)

He wouldn't constantly seek you out. But if you need to vent he's always there. He's not good with comforting words… but his honesty can be soothing and grounding. As well as he might sometimes just try to aid you in general, after all… acts of service (unfortunately) are second nature for him.

Whether it's for food… studying… anything. You don't even have to ask… But he's not expecting you to like him back. And not in a cute “he'll wait for you!” kind of way… he thinks you'd never reciprocate his feelings. And he's not sad about that! Jamil just accepted that as a reality. Whether that changes or not is up to you…

Ruggie's pretty straightforward… Not with his feelings, but with his opinion on your boyfriend.

He takes every chance he gets to say something about him and as much as he tries to play it off as a joke, his voice is bitter… He hates him so much!

Ruggie wants to believe he only hates him because you're someone he could dare to call a friend! He denies any other underlying reason for his distaste for your boyfriend that isn't that he's unfair with you... But obviously, he's a bit prideful, a tiiny bit. He couldn't help but try to impress you every time he could. He wished that you'd see how you deserved to be treated… And maaaaybe how much better he is. And he tries for so long, it's kind of obvious if you know him well. If you're observant enough you might have caught on to his feelings.

However, that all changed when you went to him looking for the comfort of a friend, after your relationship ended…

Like Jamil, Ruggie wanted to feel happy, he wanted to celebrate! Finally you weren't tied to that man-child! You could finally focus on yourself and maaaybe on him….. But when he saw how heartbroken you looked, he couldn't bring himself to act on those emotions. You were hurt, and he hated seeing you like that. Though he's pretty awkward at it… He'll try his best to comfort you, but his words feel stiff and you can tell this is not his area of expertise…

He does so much better when it comes to acts of service. He'll try his best to distract you, make you laugh… which is something he'd love to hear again. He won't dare to mention his feelings however. It'd take a long time before he even considers that he could have a chance.

Unlike everyone before, Azul'd rather stay quiet.

He already hated the idea of having feelings for you, and just wanted to forget you existed to make the tightness in his heart disappear. He wasn't one to believe in love, let alone the fact that you were already committed to a relationship…

Yet because of that same reason he wasn't able to leave.

He had a special way of aiding you out of uncomfortable situations and stupid arguments, almost appearing randomly and requesting attention from one of you. The way he dissipated the tense air by just intruding (literally) was almost comical.

Azul's not sure of what to do, as he always regrets helping you, he says you're hopeless and it's up to you to change the situation… as if he doesn't care at all unless you're going to make a deal with him, but then he ALWAYS comes back, lends a listening ear, maybe greets you with some tea and a few snacks… Oh he pays for them, don't worry. It's a gift.

Then he goes back to feeling guilty for helping you, and frustrated for liking you.

….He's a complex guy.

One of those times, you came to talk to him at his office (which the twins knew you had special priority over his other tasks. Even if he never asked.) and told him what happened, you had an argument and it escalated, leading to the breakup… In which he seemed calm as always listening to you… asking you to sit on the couch as he paid attention to your woes.

He was at a loss for words.

Yes, he did believe this was for the best… but this ACTUALLY happening made him realize he never planned what to do beforehand. He repeated the typical routine, something sweet to drink… something soothing to eat… He's a good listener, and he will easily ignore his crush on you to help you better.

His feelings were always second place for him, and Azul seems like the kind of guy who low-key wishes you don't love him back, as he wouldn't know what to do if you did... (even as flattered as he'd feel, he still struggles with trusting people.)

However… if you're too uncomfortable with tour ex… He might ask the twins to aid you if you wish to not see him again! For free of course. You shoule accept his kindness… as he typically doesn't offer such services for free.

Reblogs are appreciated!!!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto

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khaire-traveler · 3 days ago

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any tips for being in the broom closet/having to hide your altars

strict parents suckkkk

Khaire, Nonny!

My apologies for the extreme lateness of this ask. 2024 was a horrendous year for me, and I couldn't keep up with asks. ^^;;;

I would recommend taking a look at some subtle ways to worship deities which I have here in this post! It's pretty basic, and you may find some things that are helpful to you. Worship doesn't always have to be a fantastical show of faith or an in-depth ritual; you can show your devotion through "little" actions, such as wearing jewelry you associate with a deity or listening to music that reminds you of them. There's honestly a lot you can do without needing an altar!

If you DO want a physical altar, however, something I've heard of is keeping small altars spaces under the bed and/or in a shoebox - and yes, keeping it in the closet as well. It's discreet and allows for your worship spaces to be safely concealed with your parents being none-the-wiser. You can also keep a journal dedicated to your deity where you write poems, prayers, or draw for them; you could even tape or glue images of their statues, temples, and other things into the journal as an added show of offering. If you're worried your parents will read said journal, someone once suggested writing it like a diary but addressed to the deity (ex: "Dear Aphrodite" instead of "Dear Diary") and claiming it was made as a "fan" of Greek mythology or Greek mythology-based media (you could use this excuse for a shoebox altar as well). It's not the most amazing excuse ever, and it may still incur backlash, but I've been told it's been effective all the same. You could also keep an altar space in nature, or have nature BE your altar. For many people, nature is a great way to connect with deities, especially those with domains in it. Plus, nature is good for our well-being, so that's an added bonus! In the case of having an outdoor altar, however just make sure to never leave this outside that could directly harm the environment or wildlife!

Outside of this, I would recommend giving a digital altar a try. These are altars you maintain online, be it dedicating a Tumblr blog to that deity or creating a Pinterest board for them. I've also heard of artists who have a dedicated digital drawing space for their deity, drawing something new on the page every time they wish to give an offering! You can even hold spaces for your deities in video games, such as in Minecraft or Stardew Valley. I've seen people create altars there for their deities in games before, and they turn out to be pretty cool (one person even had an altar to Haides in The Nether)!

It may feel hopeless at times when you have to hide aspects of yourself, but know that there are solutions and ways to practice your faith in secret effectively. I'm sorry you've found yourself in these circumstances. 🫂 I hope these options are helpful to you and others! If anyone has other suggestions, please feel free to share in the comments and reblogs. I hope your 2024 treated you well, Nonny, and I wish you the best in 2025. Take care! 🧡

#anon asks #answered asks

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genshinnrambles · 18 days ago

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Archon Quest Chapter V Notes - Act I and Act II

“The victors will burn bright, while the losers must turn to ash.”

Just wanted to do some review before the finale and organize all of the ideas presented so far in each act. Each act’s themes, introduced concepts, main plot, and sub plots as I saw them are summarized, with some denoted speculations. This post contains all AQ content from version 5.0, or Act I and Act II. Noted from versions 5.1 and 5.2 are here.

Spoilers: Well, it’s in the title. You’ve been warned!

Act I: Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn

“Flowers” are frequently used as a metaphor for lives in Genshin (“Flower of Life” artifacts, “The Song Burning in the Embers,” the gardener metaphor from Shadows Amidst Snowstorms)

"Our forebearers carved 'miracles' into obsidian rock, yet future bearers looked upon them and saw 'strength.'" The miracles of the past become the motivations of the present. The limitations of the past become the breakthroughs of today... “

Themes: “No one fights alone”*, legacy, memory, and forgetting*, the meaning of strength, mutualism and partnership between humans and “nature,” the cruelty of war and the Abyss

(My favorite motif of “no one fights alone” is the generosity characters exhibit with food and drinks. C: )

*These themes are overarching to all of Chapter V, but are more prominent in some acts and less in others.

Concepts Introduced:

Ancient Names: A name gifted by the Wayob of an individual tribe to a tribe member. Not everyone gets to be an Ancient Name bearer, and they are essential to the Pilgrimage. Ancient Names are also not unique to each individual, but rather “legacies” that are passed down through generations of Natlanese. Each Ancient Name bearer also holds a feather-shaped obsidian stone, with their Ancient Name (sans vowels) written on it in the Abyss script. It preserves their accomplishments as memories. Ancient Names perish with their bearer if they fall in the Night Warden Wars.

A “flower of life” and her “plume of death.”

The clear analogue to this concept is Vision bearers, who enjoy a certain amount of privilege respective to “ordinary people” in society, though having a Vision can be seen as a blessing or a curse depending on who you ask:

Paimon: ...Then, you're saying this stone doesn't have any actual power? Like, it's not gonna make Paimon super strong or smart? Pacal: None at all, and that is precisely how it exercises its unique value. Kachina: Think of it this way... If you become a hero because the heavens granted you strength, are your triumphs earned or given?

Uthabiti (Resilience): Kachina’s Ancient Name.

Pilgrimage of the Return of the Sacred Flame: A tournament to determine the strongest warriors of the present to fight in the Night Warden Wars. Participation is restricted to Natlanese and consists of two stages, a team stage and an individual stage. In other words, Natlan values both team and individual strength, seeing both as essential to victory.

Night Warden Wars: A battle between the strongest Ancient Name bearers of the Pilgrimage and the advancing Abyss, which Natlan is constantly at war with due to the special circumstance of their Ley Lines.

Saurian companions: Each tribe has a special relationship with a specific Saurian type, and humans live alongside Saurians in Natlan. Saurians are also partners in combat for some Natlanese.

Wayob: The “will” of each tribe that dwells in the Night Kingdom, symbolized by the obsidian totem.

Pyro Archon: In Natlan, humans ascend to this role due to the rules Xbalanque wrote for the nation. Mavuika was also the Archon during the Cataclysm.

Kachina: I do know this, though — even after becoming the Pyro Archon, the person in the position still grows old and requires rest.

Phlogiston: Primordial elemental energy (formally stated in Act IV).

The Sacred Flame: Provides Natlan with protection from the Abyss, fueled by Contending Fire collected from battles during the Pilgrimage. Outlander participation in the Pilgrimage does not generate Contending Fire, hence their being barred from the tournament.

If Ancient Name bearers are analogous to Vision bearers, then are Outlanders in the context of the Pilgrimage analogous to people from outside of Teyvat? If so, could the analog to the Pilgrimage tell us something about the nature of Teyvat? Personally, I think the underlying mechanism of the Vision system and the boon it provides to Celestia lies in this story.

The Ode of Resurrection: A song with the power to resurrect fallen Ancient Name bearers in the Night Warden Wars, provided there is at least one survivor to return from the Night Kingdom. The Pyro Archon steps into the Sacred Flame to retrieve them.

The Night Kingdom: The liminal space between body and mind, life and death. Comparable to the space below the Celestial Nail in “Perilous Trail.” In other words, it’s not quite the Abyss, but rather the “boundary” between the Abyss and Teyvat. In other words, it’s the Ley Lines of Natlan.

Abyssal corrosion/wounds: Technically corrosion is a pretty old concept by now, but in this context we learn about it as a potential cost in Natlan’s war against the Abyss. Corrosion stays in the body and restricts an individual’s ability to participate in things they used to do with ease, let alone participate in the Pilgrimage again.

Here, Abyssal corrosion is a metaphor for injury in the line of battle, which can leave both physical and emotional scars.

Abyssal Pylon: A gate between the Night Kingdom and Teyvat that allows Abyssal creatures to pass into Teyvat.

Main Plot:

This act establishes several key concepts and largely serves as a worldbuilding and set up act. We learn about the shared traditions and customs between the six tribes, which center on the Wayob, Ancient Names, the Night Kingdom, and the meaning behind the “nation of war.”

The Pilgrimage of the Return of the Sacred Flame is being held in the Stadium of the Sacred Flame to collect Contending Fire and send another wave of warriors to the frontlines against the Abyss. Kachina of the Children of Echoes learns to value her will and achieves her dream of winning the tournament; her reward is to fight alongside the strongest warriors in the Night Warden Wars. While she’s away, the Traveler goes with Mualani to the People of the Springs and meets Atea, who sustained an injury from the Abyss in a past Night Warden War. Mualani, the Traveler, Marokau and Hikueru plan a party for Atea at the old hot springs she frequented before her injury and work together to renovate it, but the Abyss attacks the People of the Springs overnight. After finding Atea injured at the old hot springs, the Traveler remembers way back in Mondstadt when they purified Dvalin’s tears and tries that super cool power out again on Atea’s festering injury. Atea reveals to the Traveler and Mualani that her fate is sealed, and she only has a few days left; she leaves them with a “relic” to give to Mavuika, which “embodies fond memories and [her] strength of will.”

“Life is a journey in which there’s no turning back, so forge ahead and don’t hold back.”

Subplots:

Kachina’s struggle to assert her will (strength), which culminates in her defeating Mualani in the tournament

Kachina: "The key to winning is in the strength of the team captain," that's what everyone says. But, uh... the difference in strength between bearers can practically be night and day. Kachina: Mualani, I... I really want to win this time. I want to win this Pilgrimage and become a true warrior!

Phlogiston and the unique position Natlan occupies in relation to the rest of Teyvat.

The price of the endless war against the Abyss. Though it’s the greatest honor in Natlan to participate in the Night Warden Wars and emerge victorious in the Pilgrimage, the cost is cases like Atea’s or the erasure of an entire legacy if an Ancient Name bearer falls. The ultimate cost, then, is the erasure of all of Natlan if they ever fail in the war.

The weight of legacy and the importance of memory is central to Mavuika’s character. The ultimate cost of the war is unacceptable to her.

Act II: Black Stone Under A White Stone

Here, “Black Stone” refers to the Obsidian in the Night Kingdom.

Themes: Sacrifice, regret, “the shape of time” (another name for legacy), ideals vs. the real, fate

Concepts Introduced:

Abyssal cunning: another concept that isn’t quite new if you’re familiar with “Perilous Trail,” but since that’s optional content it counts. The Abyss can take on a form specific to each land’s memories to bring about destruction - this matches the Traveler’s past encounters with the Abyss, such as the Withering of Sumeru, the miasma of Chenyu Vale, the poisoned waters of Erinnyes, and the tumor beneath the Sacred Sakura.

Malipo (Turnfire): Kinich’s Ancient Name, once held by Burkina (Cataclysm era) and Yupanqui (Xbalanque era).

The Sea of Souls: The “unity” in the Ley Lines of all memories and emotions held by each individual on the land. Where individuality goes to die.

Spiritspeaker Stone: An artifact Citlali created to commune with the Wayob.

Wayna: As you probably know, your intended destination is completely different from the real world. The Night Kingdom is like a river flowing with "concepts," and the Ancient Name you seek is like a tiny fish swimming downstream. In that sense, the Stone is like a fishing boat drifting down the river.

“Concepts” (lol): fundamental ideas underlying a physical thing. The Night Kingdom is a realm of “concepts,” which is why it’s typically only visited through one’s consciousness. This is also why all descriptions of the Night Kingdom rely so heavily on analogy. These “ideas” need physical vessels to ground them in the real world.

Mualani: Wait, are you saying you're going to use a real net to "catch" Kachina's Ancient Name? How does that work when one's tangible and one's not? Vichama: By creating something tangible in our world — like a net — we can create a connection to a corresponding "concept" in the Night Kingdom. Basically, I'm going to use the "concept of a net" to catch something equally intangible — an Ancient Name.

Talismans/relics: Items that hold the memories and will of each of their owners, a symbol of the “legacy” theme.

Mavuika: Most people perceive time as a linear concept, almost like a straight line that can only move forward. We cannot change the past or predict the future. But, there's also a different theory, one that I believe to be closer to the truth. Namely, that the "past," "present," and "future" all exist at once. [...] Mavuika: Let's say your journey ended right now. Thinking back on your experience in each nation, which one would you say was the most important? Traveler: I'd have to say all of them. Mavuika: Exactly. Even at the end of your journey, the things you experienced along the way don't cease to exist. They become part of who you are. Take out a portion of that journey, and you would likely make very different decisions, and eventually arrive at a very different destination. The future is the same way. It exists even though it has yet to come to pass. We just lack the means to perceive it. Of course, there are those with the power to foresee the future. They simply call it by a different name — "fate." You're quite familiar with that concept, I would imagine…

See also, all of the personal item stories in each playable character’s story page.

Umoja (Unity): Mualani’s Ancient Name, previously held by Tupac (Cataclysm Era).

Main Plot:

This act raises the Chapter’s stakes, creates suspense regarding the two unawakened heroes, and sets up future conflict between Mavuika and Capitano. It also establishes Mavuika’s greatest personal strengths (patience, empathy, humility, and long-term thinking) and hints at her fatal flaws (enormous sense of responsibility, tendency for self-sacrifice).

The Traveler and Mualani learn Kachina fell in battle, so they head to the stadium to partake in the Rite of Resurrection. However, something goes wrong and Kachina’s Ancient Name is lost in the Night Kingdom. Mavuika gathers an investigation team in the Speaker’s Chamber and lays out the stakes of the failed Rite of Resurrection, specifically the doubt it sowed in people’s hearts of the Pilgrimmage’s value.

“[The Abyss’s] goal isn’t to break the rules that make the Ode of Resurrection work. It’s to destroy the people’s faith in them.”

In the presence of two of her awakened heroes, Mavuika discloses her plan to sacrifice her power to fuel the Sacred Flame a little longer. But before she can do that, Capitano shows up with a cryptic message about her plan and fights her for the Gnosis. After he flees, she sacrifices her remaining power to the flame. After she does this, a similar visual effect is produced as was seen in the Ignition teaser:

(I expect to see this effect again in Act V and learn its meaning, for now I can only speculate its related to one’s sense of self)

The Traveler, Mualani, and Chasca use the Spiritspeaker Stone, a net, and obsidian to salvage Kachina’s Ancient Name from the Night Kingdom with Vichama’s help. Vichama had hoped to salvage his own fallen friend’s Ancient Name as well, but the Spiritspeaker Stone is overwhelmed by the Abyss and Chasca destroys it. They return to Mavuika with Kachina’s Ancient Name to pinpoint her location in the Night Kingdom. When they conjure her image, she reveals that the reason the Rite of Resurrection failed is because the Wayob is being affected by the Abyss. They head to the Night Kingdom in their physical forms and discover ruins of the ancient dragon civilization on the way.

Side note, this looks eerily similar to the “wheel” in Bottle Land, which um. Yeah. Loom of Fate, anyone?

(Also, there’s a leitmotif here from the room with the Celestial Nail in the Chasm)

They find a rift entrance and make their way through the hostile Sea of Souls under the protection of Vichama’s lost friend, Mallko. After finding Kachina, she leads them to the corroded Wayob’s totem to purify it. A pyro Abyss Lector intercepts them and talks a bunch of shit undermines the ideals they value to sow doubt and distract them from the totem, but Mualani concedes that while the ideals themselves may be meaningless, the actions that uphold them aren’t. Mualani awakens to her Ancient Name’s will and inherits Tupac’s memories.

The Abyss’s cunning is why it feels uncanny.

After purifying the Wayob, the rift out of the Night Kingdom closes and Mavuika’s consciousness saves them at the cost of every relic she kept in the Speaker’s Chamber. She discloses the truth that Natlan’s destruction is imminent, and that the events of the present were set in motion 500 years in the past. The price of their victory then was their faith in the customs used to fight back the Abyss. The first part of Mavuika’s plan, then, was to reunite the tribes and rebuild the Wayob’s strength, after which a “hero” would be selected from each tribe. Mavuika’s plan as it currently stands does not guarantee that each hero will awaken their Name - that is left up to fate.

Mavuika pays her own visit to a realm of consciousness and revisits several conversations with past figures, seemingly ruminating on the weight of her plan. “Voices of the Past” speak to her in a non-corporeal form, implying that these are past Pyro Archons.

(Acts shocked that this is exactly what she did to herself).

It concludes with a cliffhanger where Capitano speaks to someone who is out of frame, ostensibly his co-conspirator from the Masters of the Night Wind. Capitano believes this person will be useful for his own plan to counter Natlan's crisis.

Subplots:

Mualani’s survivor’s guilt, which is juxtaposed with Vichama’s survivor’s guilt. In Vichama’s case, his guilt was a symptom of his obsession with Mallko’s death and the delusion that he could ever bring him back, which is why the plan to rescue Kachina appealed to him so much.

Vichama: If I could do it all over again, I would have followed Mallko to the frontlines no matter what. Even with an injured leg, there were still things I could have done. That way... even if the outcome stayed the same, I still would have fought alongside him to the end. There are critical junctures in life, and if you don't seize the chance to act, there's no going back.

This brings to mind something Acheron said in Honkai: Star Rail:

“But you said, ‘Sleep is the rehearsal of death,’ so why does life slumber? Because we are not ready for the final rest. So you can definitely understand why we want to be prepared. Even if the ending has been predetermined, that's fine. There are countless things that humans cannot change. But before the end, there are many things that humans can do while on their journey. And because of this, the ‘end’ will thus reveal a completely different meaning.”

What Vichama is getting at is that fate had no bearing on his will, it didn’t matter if it couldn’t be changed because the journey to that end would still be different, and for him, more meaningful. This revelation empowers Mualani to move forward.

Mavuika’s connection to the Sacred Flame and Natlan’s memories.

Capitano's relationship to Natlan and personal motivations for seeking the Pyro Gnosis.

Chasca and Chuychu’s apparent difficulty communicating with each other and ability to understand one another. “Apparent” being the key word.

Also, Chasca’s survivor’s guilt.

Kachina's struggle to assert her own will to life, not as something that must match the legacy of her Ancient Name, but as a continuation of its story that belongs only to her.

#genshin impact #genshin lore #genshin meta #natlan #ue ue ue this took soooo long to type up so tbh act III and IV notes might not be until next weekend!!#in any case I hope someone finds this helpful #I already forgot so much stuff that happened since Act II #tillandsia sparknotes

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altruistic-meme · 11 months ago

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if you could... describe aftg in 5 words

oh this is not as easy a question to answer as it should be akfhsdkf bc like. i could describe its plot, or my thoughts on it as a fan, or how it makes me feel, or just make a joke, or or or and bc idk why you're asking it makes it harder :'))

but let's see...

plot: gay sports mafia found family.

fan: drama, familiarity, trauma, comedy, home

feelings: love, understanding, chaos, joy, comfort

joke: you know, i get it-

(as you can see, i couldn't pick which one to go with, so choose whichever 5 words you want lmao)

#anyway the hard part is cus like. if you're already a fan then you KNOW it's plot #and i would go with either feelings or joke probably #if you aren't a fan you won't understand joke and maybe want the plot to see if you'd want to read it #in which case getting my feelings or thoughts on it could also help you decide #especially bc 'gay sports mafia' is something it has been described as OFTEN #and thus you wouldn't necessarily need ME to tell you that #anywya #i spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME thinking about this so ya know. i do hope you see this kshdfhsd #i know how it can be sending anon asks #especially if you don't follow the person you sent it to like MAN rememebring to check in and then scrolling the blog to find it????#so sorry i never shut up here #anyway if you ARE someone who hasn't read it yet and are interested; please feel free to reach out to me with any questions!!!#aftg contains a lot of potentially triggering material so it's good to have some understanding of what you're walking into!#(i did not but thankfully i'm not easily triggered by most things lmao but it still is nice to have that warning)#aftg #askers #anon #shh ac #also if you HAVE read it please appreciate my joke. i think im very funny.

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isildheir · 1 year ago

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Honestly, my abuser saying Louis was just as bad as Lestat or basically implying they hate how people write Lestat off as more abusive than he is or that Louis was just as abusive was a red flag I should've put a lot more stock into.

#The guy was Empathizing with a capital E.#God hold me back cuz I LAUGH at them. Abuser all weh u..abused me..cuz...u called me stupid and annoying when I wouldn't let u leave me #after ur 30239929292th attempt #Youre abusive cuz...u made me feel so unloved when you kept trying to leave me! :'(((#LMAOAOOA yeah if thats abuse then slap my ass and call me sally cuz ill always try to leave you #You fuckin insane psychopath. constantly putting damn words in my mouth and telling ME what i ACTUALLY mean #you dont care about anything i have to say. you need to be the one slighted to justify why you feel so offended 24/7.#dude u wanna be a fucking victim so bad then fuckin be my guest u fuckin miserable sick sad sack of absolute dog shit #always calling me a liar and putting me on the podium to state my case infinite times till you hammered me into gaslighting myself #to support your interpretation. go to hell.#you are chronically miserable for a reason. and you will NEVER find reprieve in that. EVER. just as you deserve.#YOU made me start therapy because of the CONSTANT confusion and emotional trauma i endured with you.#YOU made me cry all the time at work.#YOU gave me chest pains and difficulty breathing. just seeing YOUR DAMN NAME on my phone gave me panic attacks #YOU did so much FUCKED UP SHIT to me and you NEVER ACCEPTED ANY REALITY BUT ME HURTING YOU ON PURPOSE #you literally tell me 24/7 i dont care about you and i would drop THOUSANDS of dollars on you #AND FUCKIN WATCH UR SHOWS 3 TIMES IN A ROW #AND CALL AND TEXT U EVERY NIGHT. SIT AND HELP YOU PREP FOR JOB INTERVIEWS.#I DREW UR DAMN OC SO OFTEN HE PRACTICALLY BECAME MY MOST DRAWN CHARACTER #I DID SO MUCH TO SHOW U I CARED. BE IT GIFTS. MONEY. BE IT TIME. BE IT HELPING IN #UR VTUBING CAREER U WANTED TO START.#BE IT SPENDING NIGHTS SOMETIMES TILL 6AM JUST MAKING SURE YOU'RE OKAY.#I JUST. DID. SO. FUCKING. MUCH. IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU. I HOPE YOU DIE. SUFFER. BURN IN HELL.#I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. I WILL NEVER STOP HATING YOU.#I GAVE YOU SO MUCH. I WAS HAPPY TO TOO. WHAT A FOOL I WAS. NOTHING I DID WAS EVER ENOUGH. YOU ALWAYS HAD TO FUCKIN COMPARE #OR GET JEALOUS WHEN I SPENT ONE SECOND WITH ANYONE ELSE #U NEEDED TO GRILL ME FOR EVERYTHING #ASK WHO I WAS WITH #NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING JUST IN CASE IT WAS SOMEONE YOU DIDNT LIKE #UR FUCKIN ABSURD. UR INSANE. ROT IN HELL. FUCKIN GET TORN APART DOWN THERE. I HOPE YOU SUFFER. I WANT TO WATCH. I WILL LAUGH.

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gyaruhana · 9 days ago

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please do one where Thanos starts off as your unlikely ally in the games, protecting you from danger and helping you survive. Over time, his protectiveness becomes obsessive, and he begins eliminating anyone he sees as a threat to keeping you by his side even as you start to notice his unsettling behavior you can’t escape his grasp🙏

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - yandere bf

Synopsis: In an attempt to escape from Thanos, you join a game promising money that will help you escape him. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have joined the game.

A/N: I may have combined this with two other requests bc they were all so similar so.. i hope thats okay !!

Warning: yandere thanos, choking

If you had told your younger self you’d be in a game of death with 45.6 billion won up for grabs, you wouldn’t believe it. And yet, it’s true. After the tragedy that was Red Light, Green Light where many people met a rather unfortunate fate, you realized it’d be in your best interest to find someone you can trust and form an alliance with them.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Thanos, happened to also be a part of the games and had been watching you from a distance since he spotted you in the first game. You had originally wanted to get away from him because he was nothing but toxic though now it seems Thanos was one step ahead of you. That, or you just had terrible luck and Thanos decided to come here on his own accord.

You didn't have time to think about it though because he suddenly got up and left his little group behind to make his way straight to you. He didn't seem happy at all. Perhaps it was because the last conversation you two had was an argument that was left off on a bad note.

“Where have you been? Were you avoiding me? That makes me really fucking mad, you know,” he says as he grabs your wrist so you can't just walk away from him. Not like there was anywhere to go now. You were stuck with him here.

“I was just taking some time for myself,” you respond defensively. You really just wanted to get away from him which is why you were here in the first place. Your original plan was to win some money and then disappear so you'd never have to deal with Thanos and his crazy behavior again. It was suffocating to be near him.

“Time for yourself? Don't fucking lie to me,” he says as he brings you closer to him. Nothing about him was gentle. Not his touches, or his kisses, or anything. “Well, you've had your time. You're not leaving my side now,” he continues as he looks down at you with a glare. He wasn't leaving any room for you to defy him. In his eyes, you belonged to him. You were his property and that meant you couldn't go rogue and do what you want.

“You don't get a say in that,” you say as you lean back slightly to try to create some distance between the two of you. He lets out a bitter laugh before grabbing the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair, and forcing you closer. “Yes, I do. In case you forgot, you're stuck in a death game with me. Do you really think anyone else will help you? Nobody else here gives a fuck about you. The moment they get the chance, they'll let a bullet go through your head,” he says as he looks down at you with a slightly crazed look.

You'd like to make a counter point but he’s not exactly wrong. A lot of the people here didn't seem to be trustworthy. Not like Thanos was any better but he probably wouldn't purposely kill you if you didn't piss him off, right? As much as you didn't want to, you realized you didn't have much choice. Unless you want to make an enemy right after the first game, Thanos was your only hope of surviving the rest of the games.

“That's better. Just keep your pretty lips shut and let me do the talking,” Thanos spoke with a slight smirk. You didn't respond to that knowing that you'd likely make some sarcastic quip that would piss him off if you did. You didn't have a choice this time. You couldn't run away to another country. You had to give in just this once.

You'd soon come to regret that decision.

Somehow, Thanos had only gotten worse. He was always right next to you, no matter what. Either his hand would be over your shoulder or he'd have a tight grip on your waist. When it was lights out, he'd force you to sleep in the same bed as him. He'd kiss you all the time too but it was always rough with teeth clashing against each other and his tongue shoved down your throat.

You didn't notice it got worse until it was far too late.

The moment of realization was during the third game. The game was called ‘mingle’ and it was simple enough. A number would be called out and you'd have 30 seconds to form a group of that number before getting inside one of the fifty rooms.

Everyone stood on a circular platform in the center of the room and, per usual, Thanos had his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he spoke to his other stupid friend. The platform began to spin slowly as a childish song played. When the platform came to a sudden stop and a number was called out you formed a group and ran into a room.

It was all going fine as you planned strategic moves and managed to keep on surviving. At least, it was going well. Until the last round when the number 2 was called.

Thanos had immediately taken your wrist and dragged you towards a room, leaving behind his idiot friend without a second thought. However, the room was quickly stolen by two other players. You thought Thanos would just go to the next room over but that was not what happened.

Instead he pushed open the door and immediately grabbed one of the guys by their hair. He didn't think twice before he forced him out of the room. The other guy made an attempt to help but Thanos slammed him against the wall, his hand going around his throat as he choked him. The look in his eyes was far more scary than you remember. You could hardly process what was happening before the guy was punched in the face and pushed out of the room.

Thanos pulled you in just before the door closed and locked. The sound of gunshots rang out soon after as Thanos huffed in annoyance. He looked guilt free despite the fact he was very much responsible for the death of two people. Actually, now that you really thought about it, he had killed other people in the previous games too.

Fuck. You were beginning to regret your choice of becoming his ally. You'd have much rather found someone else who could protect you from him because he was clearly fucking crazy. Crazier than he used to be. You thought he was just a manipulative, toxic bastard. You didn't think he'd be truly capable of murder.

“Fucking dickheads,” Thanos mumbles under his breath with annoyance before glancing at your face. The corner of his lips quirked up when he noticed your expression and he wandered in front of you. “What? Something wrong?” He spoke though he already knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You killed those people,” you said as you looked up at him with a combination of fear and disbelief. He laughed in response before reaching a hand up and grabbing your face. “For you, baby. I fucking killed them for you,” he said as he looked down at you with a smirk. He found your expression such a turn-on really. The idea you were afraid of him meant you'd submit to him and that's all he wanted.

“You're fucking crazy.. crazier than I thought,” you spoke as you tried to step back and create some distance between the two of you. In response, he slammed you against the wall and got very close to you.

“You're only just realizing this? You don't realize when I snapped the ankle of that bastard who looked at you so he'd lose? You didn't realize when our ‘friend’ and I returned but he had a bleeding nose?” He spoke as he got into your face with a dangerous grin. Well, when he said it like that, it became abundantly clear he had been killing and hurting people left and right since day one and all for you. You just had been too caught up in his behavior towards you that you didn't notice how he acted with others.

“Mm. Fuck, I love that look on your face. You're so afraid. Good. Because you're going to learn that you're mine forever, yeah?” He spoke as he brought a hand to your throat and squeezed it tightly. He let out a laugh as he choked you like it was the funniest thing in the world before slamming his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

It was then you realized that, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were his now - you always have been - and you will never taste freedom on your tongue again.

#thanos squid game #squid game #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #thanos x reader #choi su bong smut #choi su bong

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing.

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty.

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror.

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much.

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct.

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report.

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new.

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier.

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt.

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch.

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest.

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer.

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off.

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged.

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time."

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes."

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room.

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate.

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph.

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks.

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side.

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?"

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow.

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him.

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table.

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm.

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer.

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question."

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?"

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know."

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you.

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person.

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out.

"Nowhere."

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question.

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?"

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite.

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying.

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach.

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you.

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away.

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason.

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number.

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone."

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-"

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?"

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge.

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him.

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own.

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do."

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that.

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him.

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you.

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions.

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch.

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from.

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done.

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him.

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something.

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face.

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally.

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been.

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second.

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work, but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans.

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open.

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead.

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic.

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher.

"I'm okay."

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?"

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted.

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you."

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another.

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question.

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend.

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on.

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?"

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you.

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now.

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did.

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?"

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness.

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?"

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer.

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head.

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again.

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes.

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath.

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?"

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this.

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole.

You'd never felt like this before.

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop.

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm.

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom.

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously.

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands.

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands.

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket.

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else.

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build.

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there.

"Spencer, please, please, fuck."

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -"

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation.

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige.

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth.

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in.

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him.

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again.

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth.

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him.

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned.

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap."

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further.

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg.

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions.

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him.

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-"

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh.

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued.

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you.

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow.

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest.

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time.

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it.

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you.

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair.

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded.

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…"

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be.

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance.

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in.

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further.

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were.

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you.

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast.

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head.

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth.

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you.

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it.

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His.

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger.

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep.

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't.

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one.

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down.

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before.

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that.

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him.

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world.

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face.

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way.

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart.

"No, not until you tell me why you left."

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl.

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again.

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine."

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble.

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face.

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room.

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed.

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."

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