#it is not a crime to seek love and acceptance
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joys-journal-of-junk · 2 days ago
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Taryn may not be my fav character in tfota but she does not deserve all of the hate she gets. Both sisters are products of their upbringing. They both choose paths they think will offer them the most protection. Jude wants to become a knight, which makes sense as she is learned everything about the world from Madoc. Taryn wants to marry so she is protected, which we can see from tqon that Orinia treats Tayrn much better and more motherly then she ever did to Jude, which explains why Taryn thinks marriage will offer her protection. Because it did for Orinia and Oak. Tayrn issue was more of her age and experience and that she also wanted a marriage with love, which Orinia and Madoc's marriage did not have, they had a mutual understanding.
Taryn and Jude are both clear representations as to how being in a world not meant for them affects their relationships and out look. Taryn keeps the secret to prove she is like the other faery (being bound by your words magically). And Jude fights in the tournament and becomes Dain's assassian/spy to prove she is like the faeries. They both seek safety and they both seek acceptance in the only world they know.
Taryn might not be a "nice" character but she is definitly not bad. They are both products of their upbringings.
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charliemwrites · 2 months ago
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Still thinking about yesterday’s post and the dynamic that fucking snatched up my brain worms in a vice grip.
Reader who is perfectly capable, has a well earned spot on her team. Who has safety net after safety net provided by the mere presence of the rest of 141. So much so that she doesn’t even remember what fear is. Living in that invincible bubble of “we’re the best because we look out for each other and we’re not going to let anything happen to each other”
And the day that bubble pops and you don’t even realize it yet. A chance encounter with a KorTac operative and you stole his kill right out from under him. Made eye contact in a shower of blood, maybe even threw him a cheeky grin, high on stims as you were.
You didn’t realize that you’d stepped outside the metaphorical bounds of your little safe zone, stepped right into the territory of a feral, untamed creature with sharp teeth and the scent of you cloying in his nose. A scent that made his blood sing a siren song of want.
It’s not just happenstance that you cross paths again. (Not that you know that). Hes been seeking you out, taking mission after mission in a dogged attempt to see you again. To see if it was more than a fluke.
And his impatience, his persistence, is rewarded with the silhouette of you, breaking a man’s neck with your thighs. (If the man weren’t surely dead, he’d wish he was for the crime of having your attention, of being smothered by your thighs, of being that close to your cunt.)
In your precious stealth gear, sleek and deadly, eyes sharp on the path ahead, not the shadow gathering behind you. He just watches you for a long while, soaking you up like a dry earth in a squall, letting you take root deep, deep within his being, in the place a soul should be. (You’re better than.)
He’s got your callsign now, whispered by one of your team members as their path intersects with yours. Narrowed eyes at the (too) friendly shake given to the hard mask covering your mouth and nose, the way your cheeks rounded with a grin beneath.
What was an interest has evolved instantaneously into an obsession. (Or devotion. Or love. They’re all the same to him, all the same kind of possession.)
He loves watching you fight as much as he loves watching you kill. He’s hard in his tac pants experiencing it this close, getting to feel each unforgiving strike in all the openings he leaves for you - invitations you always accept because you’re his good girl and you can’t resist, of course not.
He purrs when he gets you pinned to the wall, your eyes big, sparking with that animal knowledge that you’ve been bested by a bigger predator. That you’ve been won, claimed. To the victors go the spoils, and the only thing he’s lost is his restraint.
You’re panting and squirming beneath him, and he’s hypnotized, unable to do more than press closer, press harder to get you wriggling against him. Moaning softly when your heel digs a bruise into his calf, how you go still with a sort of realization.
“Again,” he rasps into your ear, “go on, pretty little hunter. Keep going. You’re so strong.”
But before you can, something over his shoulder steals your attention. Your eyes flick away from, where they should be. And he realizes that he been so consumed by you, intoxicated, that he missed the intrusion on your moment together.
In the aftermath, his gear smells like you. The place where he slipped his thigh between yours and pressed he swears smells like your cunt, heady perfume. He’s breathes it in as he fucks his tight fist, high on the memory of your strength testing itself against his.
He imagines the scent of him all over you in return. Going back to those men with his claim in your armor, wishes you’d taken the blade with you, his blood smearing your gloves, your shirt, your pants, staining your skin.
He cums to that thought, thick spurts all over a grainy print out of you from the op he first met you on, milky drops on the ink that forms your mask.
Soon, it’ll be reality.
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reidmarieprentiss · 6 months ago
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Dare Ya
Summary: Spencer and Penelope are roommates, you get a dare during girls night that changes your relationship with Spencer.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, mild crime description, sneaking into beds
Word count: 3.6k
a/n: this is so silly & cute ,, i saw someone say they love penelope and spencer being best friends and i can't disagree hehe
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After surviving a terrifying attack outside her apartment, Penelope Garcia can’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that now shadows her every step. Seeking solace, she reluctantly accepts Spencer Reid's offer to move in with him, hoping his quiet, protective presence will help her regain a sense of safety. 
Penelope was sprawled out on the couch, her colorful blanket draped over her as she scrolled through the latest memes on her tablet. Spencer walked in, holding two mugs of steaming tea, carefully balancing them as he made his way to the coffee table.
"Okay, Penelope, I’ve got your chamomile, extra honey, just the way you like it," Spencer announced with a proud smile, handing her the mug.
Penelope’s eyes lit up as she accepted the tea. "Spencer, you’re an absolute gem! What would I do without you?"
Spencer sat down beside her, taking a sip of his own tea before replying, "Probably starve, considering your idea of dinner is three packets of Pop Rocks and a diet soda."
Penelope gasped dramatically, clutching her heart. "I’ll have you know that’s gourmet snacking in some cultures!"
He laughed, shaking his head. "Well, in this apartment, it’s all about balanced meals and—"
"—and daily doses of nerdy lectures from my favorite genius!" Penelope finished his sentence, her grin widening.
"Exactly," Spencer agreed with a chuckle. "Besides, you’re the only person who appreciates my random facts at 2 AM."
Penelope nudged him playfully with her elbow. "Of course! And who else is going to let me blast show tunes at full volume while I reorganize your books by color?"
Spencer’s eyes widened in mock horror. "Wait, you wouldn’t dare…"
Penelope leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, sweetie, it’s already done."
He stared at her for a moment, then sighed dramatically, leaning back against the couch. "You’re lucky you’re cute."
"And you’re lucky I love you," Penelope shot back, lifting her mug in a toast.
Spencer clinked his mug against hers. "Best roommates ever."
"Forever and always," Penelope agreed, smiling warmly at him.
“Reid, don’t forget I’m having the girls over tonight,” Penelope reminded him as she flitted around the kitchen, her excitement palpable.
“Girls' night, I know,” Spencer replied with a small smile, glancing over at the calendar on the wall where Penelope had circled the date in bright pink marker. “You wrote it on the calendar.”
Penelope paused, turning to face him with a hopeful look. “Are you going to join us this time? It’s going to be fun! We’re talking snacks, gossip, and maybe even some scandalous games…”
Spencer chuckled, already making his way toward his room with a book tucked under his arm. “I’ll pass, thank you,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. 
Penelope pouted playfully, but she couldn’t hide her grin. “One day, Dr. Reid, you’ll see the light and join us!”
“Maybe,” Spencer called back with a laugh, already imagining the lively scene that would soon fill the apartment. For now, though, he was content to let the girls enjoy their night.
Penelope Garcia loves hosting her infamous girls' nights with the BAU ladies, filling her and Reid's apartment with laughter, drinks, and the latest gossip. Spencer, ever the accommodating roommate, doesn’t mind the occasional takeover—he’s more than happy to retreat to his books. What he didn’t anticipate, though, is you always showing up in your cozy pajamas, looking irresistibly adorable and sending his heart into a tailspin. As the nights unfold with playful games and shared secrets, Spencer finds himself leaving his room more and more often, struggling to keep his cool amidst the lively chaos.
The apartment is buzzing with energy as you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit in a cozy circle on the living room floor, surrounded by empty wine bottles, snack wrappers, and the remnants of your laughter-filled evening. The air is thick with friendship, and after a few rounds of lighthearted gossip, the group decides to spice things up with a classic game of truth or dare.
Penelope leans forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay, truth or dare?” she asks, her voice full of playful challenge.
Feeling the warmth of the wine and the comfort of your friends, you giggle. “Dare, obviously,” you say confidently, knowing full well that Penelope won’t go easy on you.
The girls exchange conspiratorial glances, their eyes practically twinkling with mischief. Emily is the first to speak up, grinning as she leans closer. “We dare you to… climb into Spencer’s bed while he’s sleeping.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, your cheeks flushing at the thought. “Wait, what?!” you whisper, a mixture of shock and excitement bubbling up inside you. The mere idea of being that close to him, even in such a silly, innocent context, makes your heart race.
JJ nods enthusiastically, her smile widening. “Come on! You’ve been crushing on him forever. It’s the perfect opportunity to get a little closer,” she teases, nudging your shoulder playfully.
Penelope claps her hands together, her excitement barely contained. “Think of it as a harmless prank! He’ll never know, and it’ll be our little secret,” she adds with a wink.
You bite your lip, your mind racing. The thought of sneaking into Spencer’s room, tiptoeing over to his bed, and slipping under the covers while he sleeps soundly is both terrifying and thrilling. But the encouraging looks from your friends, coupled with the wine-induced confidence, push you to make a decision.
“Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” you finally agree, your voice a little shaky but determined. The girls let out a collective squeal of delight, stifling their laughter as they quickly urge you toward Spencer’s bedroom.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you carefully open the door to his room, the soft creak of the hinges sounding far too loud in the quiet of the night. Spencer is fast asleep, his face peaceful in the dim light filtering through the curtains. His glasses are on the nightstand, and a book lies open beside him, his fingers still loosely resting on the pages.
With your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly approach the bed, your steps light and cautious. You glance back at the doorway, where the girls are peeking in, holding their breaths in anticipation. Gathering every ounce of courage, you carefully lift the blanket and slide into the bed beside Spencer, your movements as gentle as possible.
As you carefully slide under the covers beside Spencer, you’re acutely aware of every sound, every movement, your heart hammering in your chest. You had been fully prepared to stay for only a few seconds before making your escape, but the moment you settle in, something unexpected happens—Spencer, in his sleep, rolls over and instinctively drapes an arm around you.
You freeze, eyes wide in shock, as you feel his warmth envelop you. His face nuzzles into your shoulder, his breath soft and steady against your neck. Your initial reaction is to panic, to jump out of the bed before things get any more complicated, but the sensation of his embrace is so comforting, so natural, that you can’t bring yourself to move.
Instead, you find yourself relaxing into him, letting out a breath. Spencer’s grip tightens slightly as if seeking out your warmth in his sleep, and your heart melts at the sweet, innocent way he snuggles closer.
From the doorway, the girls are watching with wide eyes, trying desperately to suppress their giggles. Penelope claps a hand over her mouth, stifling a squeal of excitement, while Emily and JJ exchange looks of pure amusement, both of them barely containing their laughter.
You turn your head slightly, giving them a pleading look to stay quiet, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. There’s something about the way Spencer holds you, even in his unconscious state, that makes you feel safe, cherished, and you can’t bring yourself to disrupt the moment.
As the minutes tick by, the warmth of Spencer’s embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing begin to lull you into a state of calm. You know you should slip out, return to the girls, and let them finish their game, but instead, you find yourself growing drowsy, the fatigue of the night catching up with you.
Before you know it, your eyelids grow heavy, and you drift off to sleep, nestled comfortably in Spencer’s arms.
Back in the living room, the girls exchange glances, their excitement bubbling over. Penelope, always the ringleader, whispers with a grin, "Looks like she’s spending the night there. Mission accomplished, ladies."
Emily chuckles softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "She’s really going for it, huh?"
JJ giggles, still trying to keep her voice low. "I think we just made Spencer’s dreams come true—literally!"
The girls continue to snicker and whisper amongst themselves, marveling at how perfectly the dare has played out. They decide to let you enjoy your impromptu cuddle session, knowing that this is one girls’ night that will go down in history.
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, gently stirring you awake. For a moment, you were wrapped in the cozy haze of sleep, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around you. As your eyes blinked open, reality came rushing back, and your heart dropped into your stomach—Spencer was still there, his arm draped across you, his face just inches from yours.
Panic set in as you realized exactly where you were and what had happened last night. Before you could gather your thoughts, Spencer stirred beside you, his brow furrowing in confusion as he slowly woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and the moment he saw you lying there, his expression shifted from sleepy contentment to utter shock.
“Wha—what’s going on?!” Spencer exclaimed, his voice a mix of confusion and panic as he scrambled back, pulling the blanket up as if it could somehow explain the situation.
You bolted upright, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Spencer, I—I can explain!” you stammered, trying desperately to find the right words. But the sight of his wide, bewildered eyes only made your heart race faster.
“Why were you…? How did you…?” Spencer was clearly struggling to make sense of it all, his mind racing as he tried to connect the dots.
You cringed, feeling mortified beyond belief. “It was just… it was a dare,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Penelope, Emily, and JJ—they dared me to sneak into your bed while you were sleeping. I swear, it was just a silly prank. I didn’t mean to—” You broke off, feeling the heat of humiliation crawl up your neck.
Spencer’s eyes widened even more, if that were possible. “A dare? You climbed into my bed because of a dare?” He sounded incredulous, his voice cracking slightly.
You nodded, biting your lip and wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I didn’t think—I didn’t realize you’d… snuggle up to me like that.” Your voice trailed off, the words sounding as ridiculous out loud as they did in your head.
Spencer’s face turned a shade of red you didn’t think was possible, his mind clearly reeling as he processed what you had just told him. “I—I didn’t know. I must have been dreaming or something. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know you were there!” He was stumbling over his words, just as flustered as you were.
The awkwardness in the room was suffocating, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears. The last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you were some kind of creep. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, but no coherent words formed. The embarrassment was too overwhelming.
“I should go,” you finally managed to squeak out, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste. You bolted for the door, your face burning with shame.
Spencer started to say something, but you didn’t stop to listen. You couldn’t—every fiber of your being was screaming at you to get out of there as fast as possible. You could hear the girls' giggles in the living room as you rushed past them, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t bear to face them, not after what had just happened.
The moment you were out of the apartment, you leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, your heart still pounding. You had never been so embarrassed in your life. The whole thing had backfired spectacularly, and now you had no idea how you were ever going to face Spencer again.
Inside the apartment, Spencer was left sitting on the bed, staring at the door where you had just fled. His mind was still trying to process everything that had just happened, his cheeks still burning. He had never been so confused, or so flustered, in his entire life.
After the chaotic morning had settled down and the girls had finally left, the apartment grew quiet. Spencer was still in a bit of a daze from the unexpected events that had unfolded earlier. He moved around the kitchen mechanically, setting up breakfast while his thoughts churned. 
“So, boy wonder,” Penelope began, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table as Spencer placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “Care to share what’s going on in that big brain of yours?”
Spencer sighed, sitting down across from her with his own plate, though he wasn’t sure he had much of an appetite. “I’m just… confused, I guess,” he admitted, poking at his eggs with his fork. “About everything that happened this morning.”
Penelope nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, it was definitely one for the books,” she agreed. “But I think there’s more to it than just a silly dare, isn’t there?”
Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. “I don’t know. It’s just—when I woke up and saw her there, I was… shocked, obviously. But then, after she explained, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to have her there, so close. And now, I feel like I completely scared her off.”
Penelope’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “Spencer, I think you’re missing the bigger picture here,” she said gently. “Do you like her?”
Spencer looked up at Penelope, a bit startled by the direct question. His cheeks flushed slightly as he considered it. “I mean, yeah, I do,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “She’s smart, funny, and… she makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. But I never thought she’d be interested in me like that.”
Penelope’s smile widened, her heart warming at the sight of her friend finally acknowledging his feelings. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Doctor,” she said with a playful wink. “The reason we dared her to climb into your bed wasn’t just for fun. It was because we’ve all noticed how she looks at you, how she gets all flustered when you’re around. She’s been crushing on you hard, Spencer. We thought a little nudge might help her break the ice.”
Spencer blinked, the revelation sinking in. “She… she likes me?” he asked, surprise and hope flickering in his eyes.
Penelope nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, she’s got it bad for you,” she confirmed. “But she’s also shy and probably feels like she’s not on your level. That’s why she freaked out this morning—she’s likely mortified because she thinks she messed everything up.”
Spencer leaned back in his chair, processing Penelope’s words. It was almost too much to take in at once, but the more he thought about it, the more everything made sense. The way you always seemed a little nervous around him, the way you’d light up when he shared random facts or when you’d bump into each other in the hallway. And now, the fact that you’d been daring enough to go along with something as bold as sneaking into his bed—it all pointed to one thing: you had feelings for him, just as he had for you.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Spencer said softly, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. “But now that I know… what do I do?”
Penelope reached across the table, placing a hand on his arm. “You talk to her, Spencer. You let her know how you feel, that you’re not upset about what happened. She’s probably freaking out right now, thinking she ruined everything. But you can turn this around, make it something good.”
Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of determination growing within him. “You’re right,” he said, his voice gaining confidence. “I need to talk to her. I don’t want her to think I’m upset or that she did something wrong.”
Penelope beamed at him, giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “That’s the spirit! You’ve got this, Spencer. Just be your sweet, nerdy self, and everything will fall into place.”
Monday morning rolled around, and the usual bustle of the BAU was in full swing. The team was busy reviewing files, catching up on paperwork, and getting ready for whatever case might come their way. But Spencer Reid had something else on his mind—something far more nerve-wracking than profiling criminals.
With a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small, carefully wrapped box from your favorite bakery in the other, Spencer made his way to your desk. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he approached. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say over and over, but now that the moment was here, his nerves threatened to get the better of him.
You were focused on your work, completely unaware of the flurry of emotions heading your way. But when you sensed someone standing in front of your desk, you looked up, and your breath caught in your throat.
Spencer stood there, looking slightly nervous but determined, holding out the bouquet of flowers—a beautiful blend of your favorite blooms, carefully chosen with Penelope’s help. Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart skipping a beat.
“Hi,” Spencer said softly, his voice a little shaky but warm. “I, um… I got these for you.”
You stared at the flowers, then at Spencer, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. “Spencer… what’s all this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I wanted to apologize for how things went on Saturday. I know it was a little… unconventional, but after thinking about it, I realized I shouldn’t have let you leave feeling so embarrassed.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, both touched and confused. “You don’t have to apologize, Spencer. I was the one who—”
He gently cut you off, holding up the box from the bakery. “And I also got you this. I know it’s your favorite,” he added, offering the box with a small, hopeful smile.
You hesitated for a moment before accepting the box, your fingers brushing against his as you did. The gesture made your heart flutter. “Thank you,” you said softly, feeling a mixture of emotions welling up inside you.
Spencer shifted slightly, looking down at the flowers before meeting your eyes again. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what Penelope said, about how sometimes we all need a little push to see what’s right in front of us.” His gaze was earnest, his voice steady as he continued. “And I’ve realized that I don’t want to miss out on what could be something really great.”
Your breath caught as his words sank in, your heart beating faster as hope began to bloom within you.
“So,” Spencer continued, a small but sincere smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. Maybe we can start over, without the dares, and just… see where things go?”
You felt your cheeks warm as you looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity there. The embarrassment from the weekend melted away, replaced by a growing sense of excitement. You glanced at the flowers and the pastry, your favorite treats carefully chosen just for you, and felt a smile spread across your face.
“I’d love that, Spencer,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.
Spencer’s smile widened, relief and happiness evident on his face. “Really?”
“Really,” you assured him, your heart fluttering with anticipation. “And thank you for the flowers—and the pastry. You really didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” Spencer said softly. “You’re worth it.”
Your smile grew even brighter, and you couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at his words. “Well, in that case, I guess I’m going to have to say yes.”
Spencer’s face lit up with joy and relief, and he let out a breath he was holding. “Great,” he said, his voice full of quiet excitement. “How about dinner tonight?”
“That sounds perfect,” you replied, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.
As Spencer walked away to return to his desk, a spring in his step, you couldn’t help but glance down at the flowers and the pastry. The weekend’s awkwardness seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by the sweet possibility of something new and delicious.
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just-a-ghost00 · 10 days ago
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Mirror, mirror on the wall
What does this connection reflect back to you ? What do you see in each other that either uplifts you or drags you down ?
To find out, select one of the following groups. You can either choose based on the imagery or the number. This reading’s content might be triggering. Read only if you are okay with it. Keep in mind that this is a general reading.
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Group 1
5 of swords, knight of cups, Self love, Death rx, Sugilite - Stretch the limits of your imagination - You are not your emotions, Memories comfort us "I seek out happy people who inspire me to be great."
This reading feels very personal. I felt a pang in my chest as I was shuffling your cards. And the more I saw the picture that was being depicted, the more I felt like crying. I feel like a lot of you have spent most of your life repressing your emotions and feelings for the sake of others within connections, whether those were platonic or romantic. Specifically, I picked up on wounds surrounding a masculine parental figure. When interacting with this person, the truth reflected back to you is that you shouldn't have to fight for someone's attention or love. This connection helps you heal a feeling of unworthiness that stems from your childhood. It also reflects the fact that a relationship shouldn't be thriving at the expense of your own well being and happiness. That a connection should be a safe space where you can feel free to be yourself and expand in a way that feels good for you. That you shouldn't have to pretend to be someone else to be accepted.
What you see in this person is that a partner is supposed to uplift you, not hinder you. You see that going after your dreams and doing the things that make you happy isn't a crime. You learn that your emotions are valuable and are nothing to be ashamed of. In this person, you find a shelter. A place where you can lower your mask and shield to be your unapologetical self without fearing retribution. In this person, you see a friend. Someone that is willing to listen to what you have to say and help you see things from a brighter perspective instead of finding every reason why this could go wrong. You learn that your opinion matters. That your interests aren't useless. That it is safe to cry, to be sad or angry, to feel unmotivated or scared or uncertain. That you shouldn't have to apologize for how you feel or for who you are. In them, you find a confidant.
The reality that this connection reflects back to you is that your friends, your family, the people you admire and give your attention to may not be having your best interest at heart. Nor do they provide for you the safe space you need. That they take more than they give and never say sorry. This connection teaches you the importance of your own love and perception of yourself. The importance of re evaluating your boundaries, of being authentic and surrounding yourself with the people that are going to value your true essence instead of trying to dim your light and shape you into something you are not.
Extra - What do they see in you? | Page of cups, The Sage, Black Tourmaline - Protect your light, Relieve the pressure, "I am ready to go big rise up and step into my power."
They see a person with a kind and pure heart, who yearns to love and be loved equally. Someone with big dreams and goals that they never dared to achieve. A soft hearted individual whose potential goes beyond anything they could ever imagine and is afraid to share it with the world. They see a lot of sadness too. Fear even. But more than that, they see a lot of wisdom and grace. A level of maturity that cannot be rivaled. They see someone that has been holding back for far too long and deserves to be able to let go of everything that has been hurting them. Someone that needs protection because of all the pain they've been through. Someone that's tired of fighting and screaming for peace. They see someone who's afraid of opening their heart to love again, who would rather guard their heart strongly even if it meant being alone forever rather than risking getting hurt again. But at the same time, they see how much you crave to put an end to all of that because at the end of the day, you're just like any human. You want that fairytale ending.
Group 2
"I celebrate all the grateness in my life." 3 of wands, 7 of wands, Sunstone - Take back your shine, The Weaver rx, Love rx, Stand up for yourself, Yes!
I get a lot of root and sacral chakra energy from this group, which to me may relate to fears surrounding stability, material possessions, intimacy and the body. In past connections, you or your person may have dealt with a lot of people that abused them either for their possessions, their status or their body. You may also have dealt with people who cheated on you or people who did not accept your differences but still took advantage of you. I don't know why, but I kept wanting to mention the other person instead of focusing on your energy. So maybe you and your person have dealt with very similar wounds and situations in your life. The truth that is being reflected back to you is that being different isn't always a struggle. That in a connection, your boundaries should always be respected. That not wanting the same things as your partner doesn't make you a bad person. That you have the right to say no. You are also learning that you cannot control every aspect of the connection. That sometimes, in order for things to be working, you'll have to let your ego aside and find a common ground that is comfortable for both parties. You're also learning that needing space or going after your goals are things that can be beneficial both to you and your partner, that you shouldn't have to choose between both. You're learning that being on your guards all the time isn't in your best interest and that in order to receive you must be able to give as well. The truth reflected back to you is also that not everyone is out to get you.
In this person, you see a call for the unknown that challenges you but also motivates you. You see an opportunity for change and wisdom. You see an invitation to appreciate life at the fullest and an encouragement to open your heart to the present moment. This connection teaches you to take a leap of faith and walk forward with confidence, even if you do not know what the future holds. It teaches you to see all the little things in life that are worth rejoicing about and fighting for. It pushes you to embrace all your quirks and faults, even those you think your partner wouldn't like. To look at the future with hope in your eyes and disregard any person that might stand in your way or try to get you to doubt yourself. This connection inspires you to stand tall and proud and cultivate optimism. It helps you feel safe in your body and comfortable in your shoes. For some of you, it has opened your eyes about your sexual preferences and your identity. Some of you may have realized that you were queer thanks to this connection. For others, you are healing wounds regarding physical intimacy : you may be learning to embrace the fact that being physical with someone is something that isn't your cup of tea and that there's nothing wrong with it. Some may be discovering and exploring new aspects of their sexuality that they didn't get to try before because they were taught to be ashamed of their body, of their desires. This connection leads you to uproot any belief system that was hindering your light and drive. Also, you are learning to love your body more and cultivate your creativity.
Extra - What do they see in you? | Treat yourself eat whatever you want, 4 of wands, Reflect, Cavansite - Expand your consciousness, "My high vibe thoughts create health in my body peace in my mind and love in my heart."
They see someone with such energy and love for life that they can't help but smile. They also can't help but to recognize your strength and limitless potential. This person sees you as their equal. They see in you someone that has all the qualities in life to be successful but also all the qualities that they look for in a partner. They see your trustworthiness, your ambition, your optimism and creativity and they love it. They admire your wit and communication skills. They see your strength and your ability to persevere though the road is difficult. They see a person that will never give up no matter what people throw at them. And because of that, you have all their respect and support. They see how hard you try to make a name for yourself and embody the best version of you. They see your charisma, your curiosity. Every aspect of you that makes you you, in simple words. They just love all of you and they want that for themselves.
Group 3
"I breathe calmly and easily. I am safe in this moment." Page of wands, The Star, Versatility, Speak Truth, I can only count on myself, Stand up for yourself, Hiddenite - Claim your happy place
Through this connection, you're slowly realizing that you were made to believe that in order to make it through and thrive, you should hide your light and pretend like you didn't exist. Especially for those of you who were assigned female at birth. The truth that this connection reflects back to you is that it is safe for you to exist, make noise and take room. In this case, I am picking up on rejection wounds. You are also learning that you don't have to carry your load all alone. That asking for help is more than fine but more importantly that you don't need others to be told who you should or should not be. For a lot of you, I feel like a parental figure was very controlling around you and didn't let you make your own decisions. They always tried to make you feel less than or lead you to believe that you couldn't succeed without them. You are healing those wounds through this connection. It also reflects back at you your own creative power and wisdom. It shows you that the truth of your destiny lies within you and not outside of you. It encourages you to speak louder and find your voice in life's chatter. To write your own story.
It reflects back to you how people around you trigger your foundations and create a space for you that is unstable, unsafe. How their own lack of discernment and self confidence is affecting you, your dynamics with the world and your power to manifest your desired reality. It shows you that you don't have to abide by the rules to be respected and recognized. Actually, you don't even need to be recognized by anyone except yourself. This connection shows you the value of your own beliefs and desires, and gives you the strength and determination to fight for them.
Extra - What do they see in you? | Ace of cups rx, The Explorer, Turn your tongue 7 times in your mouth before speaking, Sodalite - Deepen your intuition, "I seek out happy people who inspire me to be great."
They see a lot of curiosity and drive to become a better version of yourself. They also see your fighting spirit and rebellious tendencies. They see that you want to surround yourself with things and people that make you feel good. That you are constantly seeking to improve. That you have gathered a lot of wisdom through experience and you're able to use it whenever trouble arises. However, they also see that you've put up walls around your heart that a hard to see through. They are aware that those walls, built to protect yourself, also prevent you from finding true happiness. They see that you are not emotionally available right now and that is a fact they cannot ignore. This person understands your need to protect yourself and admires this aspect of you. But they are also worried that this defense mechanism will stand in the way of your connection. They see that they should have to be very careful around you if they want to be able to earn your trust.
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hoiststowline · 15 days ago
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Heloooooo
I see your reqs are open
I'd love to see reader using hotrod/rodimus as a heater and Roddy being like sorry I can't get up their asleep.
rodimus x reader
[a/n: hello!! & thank you, this was sm fun to write!]
He swears he has it down to a perfect science, but he’d rather keep that to himself than try to justify his second grade equation at best to Perceptor who rolled his eyes four times during the explanation. It benefits you first, the most important part- and at the very least the other two things that follow after are just collateral he was willing to accept.
Rodimus should not have access to the thermostat. That is evident when the temperature always seems to fluctuate dramatically about an hour before he’s needed to appear for something, whether it be a meeting or a routine sweep to ensure everything was in working order.
It’s always the thermostat right within your wing of the ship, locked but always broken into. The bottom button almost appears damaged, as if the offender had clicked it so many times it had begun to become worn-down and unusable.
As if on cue, roughly about fifteen minutes after the crime occurs, you’re shuffling into his room with a blanket wrapped around your shivering form. Rodimus can’t entirely feel the drastic change, he can sense it’s colder than normal, but the dipping temperature always sends you into an adorable pout.
“It’s broken again?” You murmur, each syllable accompanied by a visible breath. “That’s the third time this week,”
“I don’t think it was ever really fixed from last time,” It’s almost pitiful, the way he can’t even try to contain his smile. “Just got worse, I guess.”
He observes you, finding patience for about two seconds before he’s on his feet, being selfish for just another moment. He loves you, and wants nothing more in this instance than to give you undivided attention and sloppy kisses.
“What?” You ask, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “I came here to complain, I didn’t-“
But both he and you knew that was a lie. You’d walked perfectly into Rodimus’ trap, perhaps subconsciously seeking his warmth that you knew he radiated. The Prime was a walking heater, and he had ensured early on that you were well aware of it.
Somehow, he’d coaxed you to his side. You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment exactly, but it was most likely when your hands began to tremble from the cold. No amount of blankets could save you, especially within a metal ship where every surface ran about thirty degrees cold on average.
Rodimus always says the same thing every time, about how you slot so perfectly between his shoulder and helm. The most important spot, where he can rub his cheek along your stomach and keep you safely positioned there with his right servo. It’s effective, as the first time you’d actually found his chassis ran so hot you almost couldn’t bear it.
“Don’t you have a meeting in like thirty minutes?” You mumble, impossibly tiny fingers tracing random lines along his helm.
“So you’ve got thirty minutes. Take it or leave it,” He’ll never let you leave, because he enjoys this far too much. Like he said, he’s helping to solve your immediate problem, but the bonus is that he gets this time with you, alone, and the small hiccup was just that.
It isn’t very long before you’re asleep, entirely still as your breathing evens out. It’s perfect, and how you haven’t caught on yet is a mystery for another time, though he has his own suspicions you’re far wiser to this than you display. It wouldn’t matter, even if he didn’t have to break the thermostat every other day or so, because it was all part of the fun.
Right on time, the door to his room slides over, and there stands a certain bot he’d been precariously avoiding. “You cannot be serious.” Magnus whispers, only being compliant because it was you, not so much for Rodimus’ sake. “This is the third time this week. You can’t get out of your responsibilities because you’ve tricked y/n into your schemes.”
“Sorry,” That ever sincere smile appears, gesturing to his company with a hushed tone. “Can’t do anything about it until they wake up. You’ll have to carry on without me,”
And like always, Magnus departs, mildly frustrated, but he can’t ever find the sense in waking you up. For a while, it keeps Rodimus appeased, and if he has to sacrifice some broken thermostats and delayed meetings to achieve it, then it’s worth it.
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daydreaming-nerd · 8 months ago
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Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) Rhysand's Part
First part
AN: Sorry I've been a little MIA, I've been going through a lot and struggling to find time to write. But I just busted this out and I love it.
Summary (Series): When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.
This fic: Rhys seeks his revenge from the last encounter he had with you and his brothers.  HEAVILY BASED OFF THIS FANART
Warnings: sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, degradation, cock warming, cum eating, (i think that's it, as always lmk if I missed anything)
Word count: 3,100
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The past week or so had been nothing but bliss. I spent every morning curled up on my chaise lounge reading a book and eating whatever home cooked breakfast that was brought to me. It was just as I had dreamed, silk pajamas and expensive champagne, sleeping in and spa treatments. 
Rhys and his “brothers” had been extremely busy the past couple of days, I hadn’t yet seen them since the first night we spent together. I hadn’t heard from them either, but as long as the gold in my account kept being accepted at every manner of boutique and fancy restaurants I didn’t much care when my services were needed.
I made my way through the townhouse and to my room, bags in hand and hair freshly done. I had spent the day at the hair salon and decided it would be a crime to return straight home with a fresh blowout, so I treated myself to lunch and of course some shopping as well. 
When I returned to my room I found a black box waiting for me on my too large bed. Setting the bags aside I made a beeline to the mysterious box tossing the lid open with little care. My eyes went wide at what I saw inside. A babydoll made of deep purple lace and a silky mesh lay in the box. It was beautiful, but that wasn’t the lingerie that made me lose my breath, it was the diamond necklace that lay on top of it.  
I picked up both gifts prompting a note to tumble out of the folds, 
Your presence is requested by your High Lord…
There was no doubt in my mind that Rhysand was the one to send such a lavish gift. While I’m sure Cassian and Azriel were paid handsomely I could buy a house or two with this necklace. 
I wasted no time changing into the attire Rhys had bought for me. I wondered if this would be a recurring thing for him. He had told Cassian and Azriel they could dress me however they pleased, but none had yet to take advantage of it. 
I tiptoe down the hall to where I can practically feel his power seeping through the door. He had been holed up in his office all week. There were times I thought to check on him, offer him some release or even some company, but I didn’t want to pester him and lose my paycheck. 
My hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before closing around it and pushing the door open. I find Rhysand in the exact same place he was when I first came here, hunched over stacks of papers and drinking a whiskey on the rocks. 
“There you are,” he says low, rising from his plush chair, his presence making me feel small. “Do you know what I was reading over?” he asks, waving a piece of paper in the air. 
“No my lord,” I reply and I don’t miss the glimmer in his eye as I utter the familiar name he claimed to love so much. 
“This, little one,” he smirks, further closing the distance between us. “Is your bank statement.” he smiles tossing the paper on a nearby chair. 
My blood runs cold. Had I spent too much? Did I overdraft my account somehow? I was sure I hadn’t spent that much money in the past week. 
“200 gold marks at Rita’s for dinner last night,” he states, coming behind me pulling my hair to the side so he has access to my neck. 
“300 gold marks at a boutique, 100 marks buying lacy underthings and another 100 gold marks buying shoes.” he smirks, placing kisses on my neck as he lists every expense. 
“I-I’m sorry did I overdraft my account? I can return the shoes, or the ‘lacy underthings’ as you so call them?” I wince praying I’m not about to get fired. 
“If you take back those lacy underthings you will be fired,” he chuckles, resting his hands on my hips. 
I mentally curse myself for forgetting his ability to pry into my mind, but I stop kicking myself the moment he kisses that sensitive spot underneath my ear. 
“On the contrary, little one. You aren’t spending enough of my money.” he smiles, brushing a hand over the lace covering my breasts and up to my necklace. “I thought you could use some help.” 
“They’re beautiful my lord,” I breathe, feeling him lick a stripe up the column of my neck. 
“The next time I fuck you I want you dripping in diamonds and jewels that I bought you, is that clear?” he asks smugly and I swear if he wasn’t bracing his hands on my hips my legs would’ve buckled. 
“Yes my lord,” I breathe leaning into his touch as I feel him smirk against the shell of my ear 
“Good girl,” he praises me and I feel my stomach flutter once more. “Now I have unfinished business with you.” he growls and my eyes snap open as his hand traces around my necklace. 
“You see last time I was denied you, I had to watch my brothers fuck and fill what’s mine and I didn’t like it very much.” he says dangerously low as his fingers dance over the diamonds around my neck. “Who put this pretty little collar around your neck?” 
“You did my lord,” I breathe as he turns to face me. 
“That’s right I did,” he smiles tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “And whose money do you spend all around town on expensive wine and shoes?” 
“Yours,” I say, my love drunk eyes boring into his. 
“Good girl,” Rhys smirks, dragging a thumb over my lips. “Now I have need of you but, I’m not done with work.” he says, dropping his hand from my face, making me miss the contact already. 
He strolls around the desk and sits down on his ornate chair again. Part of me wondered what his throne looked like if this was just the chair to his office. I hear his belt unbuckling as he frees himself from his slacks, standing tall, proud and practically throbbing for attention. 
“Come here little one,” he croons as he tugs his cock a couple times in his hand, getting it hard and ready for me. 
I approach him smoothly, I think he wants me under his desk with my mouth on his cock but the second I’m within arms reach of him I feel his hands on my hips. The next thing I know he’s slipping me on his cock like I’m nothing more than a cock sleeve for him. 
“There we go, nice and snug in there,” he smirks, nibbling my earlobe. 
I can hardly think or even breathe from the sheer size of him. I was almost embarrassed that he didn’t even have to touch me to warm me up for him. His words alone had me dripping wet for him making it easy for him to slide right in. 
“Now,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in my body. “I’m going to finish some paperwork and you're going to sit right here and keep my cock nice and warm alright little one?”
“Yes my lord,” I mewled, already sweating, needing him to move. 
“Good girl,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “No talking, no moving, and no touching yourself or you don’t get to cum.” 
I nod shallowly as he begins to resume his paperwork. 
It was probably the biggest exercise of self control I had ever practiced.  I knew how good it felt to ride Rhys, knew how good it felt when he lost control and pistoned inside of me until I fell apart under him. To sit here and be so close to that kind of pleasure? It was torture. 
The ticking of the clock on the wall only furthered my madness. I averted my eyes to where Rhys was scribbling on scroll, the scratching of a fountain pen equally as infuriating. The way his hand gripped the fountain pen, the veins standing out. How could his hands possibly be arousing? Was there a part of this male that wasn’t arousing to me? 
I pictured what those hands might do should they find their way on my skin. Where they might touch first, the ideas had my pussy clenching as I take in a sharp breath.
Rhys’ hand on my waist flew to my thigh slapping it hard, “Bad girl, I felt that,” he growled and I had to bite my lip not to whimper. 
The scratching of his pen on paper echoed throughout the room as I did everything in my power not to move, not to breathe or think about anything but being completely still. 
“150 gold marks at the perfumery huh?” Rhys croons holding the receipt for the perfume I bought two days ago. 
“Yes my lord,” I say, eyeing the receipt that had yet to bear his signature. 
“Let’s see what I purchased then,” he utters slowly, his nose nuzzles my neck inhaling the scent of the new perfume. “Mmm, very nice little one.” His voice is low and husky and I can’t help but clench around him once more. 
He growls, grabbing the back of my neck and hauling me up before slamming my front on top of his desk. On instinct I try to move but I’m held down by his hand on the back of my neck. His cock slips out of me, leaving me cold and empty, I’m half tempted to beg him to fill me again.
“What did I say about moving?” he snarls in my ear, making me whimper.
“I’m sorry,” I mewl, making him laugh. 
“You aren’t, but you will be,” he chuckles. 
His hand grips the hem of the light chiffon of the babydoll and tosses it over the small of my back so he can see all of me. I feel his hand smooth over my bum before spanking me hard. The sting makes me whimper until his hand comes back to soothe over the area. 
Without warning he buries himself inside of me, his balls smacking my clit. The guttural moan he lets out is nothing short of pornographic. I can feel the bulge in my belly that he leaves, his tip brushing my cervix like he did last time. 
He pulls out and moves in slow languid motions, making me feel every harsh inch of him. I’d like to think he’s warming me up but I know he’s warning himself up, this is all about him. 
“Gods your pussy is worth every single piece of gold I pay you? Do you know that?” he growls picking up the pace a bit. 
I whimper in response, feeling him move his hand from my neck to my hip to keep me from lurching forward so much. Out of the corner of my eye I see him shift the receipt from the perfume on the desk and grab a pen. Is he really signing my bills as he fucks me over his desk? The scratching of his signature on the page lets me know he is. 
“Every fucking penny,” he grunts before tossing the heavy pen on the desk. 
The thud of the pen is followed by another grunt before his hand goes to my upper back pressing me back into the desk again. His fingers on my hips and between my shoulderblades keep me from moving even an inch as he pistons his hips into me, a male gone feral. 
“Oh fuck Rhys!” I moan feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head. 
My fingers grab the edge of the desk trying to keep myself from moving too much, needing something to dig my nails into. The sound of skin slapping fills the room as Rhys’ breathing picks up with the rhythm of his thrusts. 
I clench around him and I receive a harsh slap to my behind once again. The sting startles me but fades into pleasure.
“Don’t you dare cum little one,” Rhys growls, increasing his pace. “You were a bad girl, bad girls don't get to cum.”
I let out a whimper at his words. I swear to the gods if this man leaves me trembling on the desk from not finishing with his cum leaking out of me I will lose my mind. I’ll run and find Cassain and beg him to finish the job, which I know he will. Azriel is another story. I think he might end up tying me up and getting off on me begging, hell I might get off on it too.
“Rhys please,” I cry as he presses my cheek further into the cool, smooth wood of the desk. Pens and picture frames rattling off from every thrust.
His hand comes down on my ass again as he pistons into me, searching for his own release. Long fingers dig into the skin of my hips leaving marks in their wake. 
“Are you going to beg little one?” Rhys laughs, thrusting harder making me too dumb to speak. 
My eyes roll to the back of my head as he finds that spot that drives me wild. I’m sure he’s not trying to, clearly just trying to get himself off. Yet somehow he’s fucked me dumb already and I’m a babbling mess bent over his desk.  
“Tell you what if you beg nice and pretty I’ll let you cum?” Rhys chuckles. “Can you do that for me, little one?” 
As if snapped out of the trance I’m in I feel my thoughts come back to my head. I’ll beg for him, I’d do anything for this male. I knew the second I met him I’d be utterly devoted to him if he just fucked me right, and by the cauldron he does.
“Please, please, please, please my lord,” I cry, feeling like a cock drunk fool. “Please let me cum!” 
Rhys chuckles, grabbing the back of my hair and angling my head so my cheek isn’t pressed into the wood anymore. I almost wished there was a mirror in front of us so I could see  the way he’s taking me.
“If you  make a mess, you’ll have to clean it up. Can’t have other High Lord’s coming in here and seeing my whores cum all over my desk,” he smirks fucking me harder. 
A sick part of me wanted just that to happen. Hell let the other High Lord’s watch him fuck me. 
“I’ll be good, I’ll clean up,” I rasp out feeling tears prick my eyes. “P-Please let me cum.” I breathe. 
It suddenly occurs to me that this is truly revenge from our last encounter when I wasn’t allowed to let him cum. He wanted me to beg just as hard as he did that night. 
His hand in my hair tightens, lifting my front off the desk. My back is forced to arch and somehow he’s able to fuck me even deeper in this postion. My eyes fly open and I’m met with a pair of raging violet ones. 
“Couldn't reach that pretty clit with your face pressed against the desk,” he smirks and before I can say anything his finger finds that sensitive pearl between my legs rubbing little circles in it. 
My mouth falls open as the coil in my stomach threatens to unravel. His fingers continue their tantalizing ministrations on my clit. The impressive length of his cock digs deep in my belly. I close my eyes for a moment, feeling overstimulated. The hand he has fisted in my hair shakes as he forces me to arch my back more. 
“Eyes on me little one,” he growls and when my eyes flutter open I see his violet ones staring back at me, eating up every reaction I give him. 
My mouth falls open as I slip back into that cock drunk feeling and his eyes drink me up, seemling getting off on my fucked out face. 
“Yeah you like that?” he smirks, not taking his eyes off me. “You like being my little cock slut?” 
The words falling from his lips are enough to have me coming undone for him in a string of moans and cries. Tears fall from my cheeks, and I swear I feel him lick one up before he slams into me one last time, sputtering inside me so deeply I can feel the warmth coating my insides. 
The grunts that fall from his mouth are enough to make me want more, but as he releases my hair and gravity pulls my body to the desk again I realize how spent I truly am. 
I hear the chair squeak behind me, signaling that he’s sitting down, no doubt watching his cum spill out of me as I haven’t gotten the energy to move. 
“Oh little one you’re such a messy girl,” he teases, running a finger up my folds collecting the mixture of our releases that are there. 
I mewl as I feel him graze my overstimulated clit. I pull my head up to examine his desk, pen cups and picture frames are knocked over, papers are lying on the floor. My eyes widen as I see faint claw marks from my nails in the wood of the desk. 
“What did I say about messes?” he tuts behind me.
 I let my body slink to the floor, hitting my knees at the edge of his desk. He runs a large hand through my hair from where he sits behind me and my eyes come face to face to the mess we made. 
Rising on my knees I let my tongue lap up the salty sweetness of him and that's right in front of me. His hand pushes my head down a bit forcing me to take every last drop. Only when the wood is spotless do I feel him thread his fingers through my hair and pull me back so he’s looking at me again. 
“Such a good girl for me,” he smiles, leaning down to give me an upside down kiss. “Let’s get you cleaned up little one, you’ll sleep with me tonight.” 
I’ll give the High Lord one thing, he fucked like a god, but what he really did well was aftercare. Always cleaning me up and getting me fluids. Holding my shaking body until I fell asleep. Something told me he longed for this type of intimacy as well. Cassian was the same that first night as well. Fetching me snacks and stroking my hair. The mysterious third brother, Azriel, had yet to show his cards. But something told me I’d be seeing him sooner than later.
(If your name is highlighted tumblr won’t let me tag you☹️)
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sunshine-jesse · 1 year ago
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Control: The Strange Dynamics of Andy and Leyley or
The Incest End Is Not The Fucking Bad End, Stop Coping
EDIT:
Hey guys! This post is blowing the fuck up, but this was my first essay on this game, and I think I've had many more insightful things to say since then. Here's a link to a masterpost with all of my essays, which I'd definitely suggest reading after this one:
Anyways, without further adieu...
I heard a lot about this game going in. I knew the general story beats and the funny haha incest memes. I knew it was about a toxic codependent relationship where Ashley, the sister, acted like your standard overly-controlling person who used various abuse techniques to keep someone in line. I expected Ashley to be a yandere-type character where she was borderline psychotic, irrational, and had a skewed perception of reality. I expected her to be a crazy bitch, and I love me some crazy bitches.
But then I actually played through the game. ...That is not what I got.
The game advertises Andrew as a doormat extraordinaire who is strung along by his Very Not Good sister and has no agency of his own' that he's just a henpecked abuse victim. But in practice, that doesn't seem to be the case. One of their first exchanges that in the story is when the occultist played his music and Ashley wanted them to check it out. He says 'no', sure, but then he smirks and says 'but I'll come along if you do.'
That is not the dialogue of someone who has no will of their own, that's the dialogue of someone who willingly gives up their own agency.
This is not, on its own, a sign of anything out of the ordinary. What caught my attention with it, though, is how it flew in the face of the common narrative surrounding their relationship dynamic. But that's not the first time I noticed it, it's just the first time, in retrospect, that their actual dynamic begins to show. The first time I personally noticed it is in the choking scene.
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There are a lot of ways to view this situation. But my own reading? This was not a crime of passion. This was not him trying to break free. This is him doing something he's thought about for a while. This is premeditated. In this scene, Andrew is done playing along with Ashley's shit. In this scene, I firmly believe Ashley is the victim.
Ashley is the more openly abusive of the two who seeks to do whatever she can to trap Andrew so he'll never leave her. That much is clear. But Andrew-
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-clearly has these same tendencies. He says this shortly after Ashley mentions putting her name up on a call girl's wall for money. There's protective brotherly instincts, and then there's this. This is not something you'd threaten a sister with, this is something that a man would threaten his wife with, which is directly brought attention to in the story.
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(hey look he accepts the framing of it being WIFE beating at face value, and says Ashley is the only one who makes him like that! HMMMMMMMMMM WONDER WHAT THAT IMPLIES???)
It also implies that this is not the first time physical force has been threatened! I mean, that much is obvious, because of the choking scene that happened before, but I more mean that this implies that Andrew either threatening or utilizing physical force is an established pattern of behavior. However, the Decay route implies that she never thought Andy would kill her (but Andrew would) which can either be for or against depending on one's perspective, so I don't hold to the idea that it's an established pattern too strongly.
Okay, so. Andrew has some controlling and possessive tendencies too. So what? Their relationship is codependent. It's advertised as such. What of it?
Well first of all, it pretty much blows the lid off of the idea that Ashley is the sole perpetrator of abuse in their relationship. I've seen a lot of people view Andrew's behavior as justified retaliation against abuse, but frankly, I don't believe that him threatening to strangle Ashley for violating boundaries by trying to hold him accountable for his actions (given the strangulation part happens after she brought up Nina's death and how Andrew was ultimately responsible) is justified. And I ESPECIALLY don't believe that him threatening to backhand Ashley for her transactional attitude towards sex is justified in ANY circumstance.
EDIT: This part was edited in from the original post for the sake of readability so they don't have to see the reblogs to see the updated version! This post gained more traction than I was expecting!
…But perhaps even more telling is what she DOESN'T do.
Pushing someone's boundaries until they lash out is a pretty common tactic in abusive relationships. It's easy to see why, too: It justifies prior behavior and paints them in a negative light to others. This can be an important aspect of using DARVO (deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender) against someone, although the two ideas aren't necessarily linked.
It's pretty easy to argue that this is what Ashley does, but if you look at the one time her boundary pushing DID go too far, when Andrew lashes out with physical violence… she doesn't do that. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't paint herself as the victim. She doesn't even try to give a reason as to why she shouldn't be killed outside of the comfort she gives him. Why is this notable?
Because the mom does, in fact, engage in what could be considered DARVO against Ashley:
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(i will elaborate more on this screenshot in particular below)
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Ashley is directly compared to Mrs. Graves by Andrew, and yet she crucially displays none of the habits that Mrs. Graves does. Mrs. Graves lays the blame on Ashley, but Ashley doesn't lay the blame on Andrew. Mrs. Graves tends to paint herself as the victim of Ashley, but Ashley does no such thing to Andrew. The mom denies her culpability at every turn; Ashley doesn't. Ashley tries to hold Andrew accountable for his role in Nina's death, which could be considered a kind of DARVO. But she never denies that she had a role to play in it. She just mentions that he was the one who pulled the trigger. And he was.
(and the point was more that she DIDN'T engage in it when threatened with physical violence; the perfect chance to)
In Mrs. Graves' mind, she is the victim of either Ashley, or society as a whole. In Ashley's mind, she knows what she is, what she does, and what she's about. The only thing she's oblivious to- or doesn't acknowledge, at least- is the threat Andrew poses to her. In her mind, she's the bad guy. In Andrew's mind, Ashley is the bad guy. In official art, she is the bad guy:
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And yet, in the game itself, Andrew is the one holding the cleaver. Not her. Hm.
Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat. She allows people to mask their own worst habits and pretend they're better people than they are. She accepts this role. She embraces it. She doesn't try to deny it. But when that mask slips, people lash out at her. Both Mrs. Graves and Andy (NOT Andrew, crucially) predicate much of their self-perception on being what she's not.
But they're the ones who enabled her to become like this, every step of the way.
And that's what blew my fucking mind, and made me question just who the victim really is. She was never given a chance to be normal, because other people relied on her NOT being normal.
By the end of my second playthrough, I felt worse for Ashley than I did for Andrew, and I still do.
So. What am I getting at? What does this show me about the relationship between Ashley and Andrew?
(I also wanted to point out that Andrew does engage in DARVO too but I didn't want to distract from the behavior of the mother. Unlike what Andrew does, it doesn't require someone to reassess the narrative they have towards the game in order to realize the implications of it, whereas it's pretty easy to justify Andrew's words as not qualifying as DARVO if you buy into the narrative that he's the sole victim and/or that Ashley is the main perpetrator of abuse. A friend of mine pointed out that it's a pretty key part of the push/pull dynamic they have, and I completely agree.
However, the direct comparisons to the behavior of the mother can't be ignored no matter your narrative, so I felt as if I needed to highlight that more.)
EDIT OVER
It shows me that their relationship is all about control.
Specifically, the push and pull of who controls who in any given situation.
Andrew weaponizes his incompetence. He always looks to lay the blame on Ashley. This is drawn attention to several times, and said explicitly in the Decay route.
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He is always surrendering control to her, and yet he never HAS to. He could always just say no. He could always refuse. What are the consequences? Her being upset? Well, unfortunately, it's not that easy. That's not how abuse dynamics work. He probably feels like he has to, or rather, feels like there's no other option. That he's in too deep, and stuck with her no matter what. But personally, I think it's pretty clear from his willingness to surrender control to Ashley that he still feels like he has it at points, because the moment he feels like he's about to lose it, he either considers violence, even as a child-
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(the actual scene of slicing her finger is pretty sus too with this reading in mind)
-or resorts to it, outright, in both the choking scene and the vision in the Decay ending... when Ashley doesn't have enough bullets to defend herself (this will be important later!).
SO WHAT POINT AM I TRYING TO MAKE??? AM I JUST MAKING ABUSE APOLOGIA (the answer may surprise you)?
No. I don't think so.
Ashley is obviously very bad. She's controlling and uses pretty textbook abuse and entrapment tactics on Andrew whereas everything he does to her is inference, with Ashley too daft to realize just how much danger she's in until the vision in the Decay ending spells it out for her- and I don't know if a true abuse dynamic allows for one to be completely unaware of the consequences of breaking free. She could just let go of her desire for control and Andrew would be a much happier person.
And that's the point, because so would she.
I bring up control because that push and pull- that desire for control over each other- is exactly what's tearing their relationship apart, and this effect most obviously manifests in the two endings of episode 2. In the Decay ending, Ashley either tries to exert control over Andrew due to a lack of trust, or Andrew allows his feelings of entrapment to truly take root in his mind and guide his actions. In the Decay ending, Andrew becomes a true doormat with no will of his own, allowing his feelings of bitterness and resentment to fester and grow, eventually resulting in their deaths.
In the Burial ending, Andrew does the exact opposite. He takes control of the situation and does exactly what Ashley would do without much of a fuss. This eventually culminates in THAT scene (assuming you take the Questionable route), where his facial expression alone speaks volumes:
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Look at how fucking confident this man is. This is not the face of someone who's unsure of himself; this is the face of someone who knows exactly what he wants and takes it. He is absolutely in control of this situation, and everyone is happier for it.
And what does Ashley have to do to get this ending?
Let's go back to Decay for a moment. If Ashley has bullets in her gun, she has control over the situation. She, at any point, could put an end to Andrew and survive. And yet, at the very end of it all, she could choose not to. She could choose to surrender control to Andrew, allowing herself to die. And that ending, I believe so much of his life and willpower will have decayed that there's nothing left for him to take control of, leaving him no choice- or rather, no use for the control he now has- but to die with her.
And in the Burial ending, she has to let him out of his cage before it's too late. She has to surrender control to him, and when she does-
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-He will become everything she ever needed him to be.
It's all about her surrendering control, and it's all about him taking control. Because, no matter what, as long as that happens... the two of them will be together forever.
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In life...
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...or in death.
How romantic.
So no, the incest end is not the fucking bad end. They're going to be together forever in the end either way, so they might as well live through it.
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borathae · 2 months ago
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Cozy Nights
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"The most perfect thing about winter are all the cozy nights in you can have with your loves." 
Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader x Jungkook
Genre: Vampires!AU, Magic!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Polyamory!AU
Warnings: nothing just cozy moments, Kook is having a little bit of a foggy brain day and seeks comfort in them, hihi i love this throuple <3
Wordcount: 1.4k
a/n: honestly? koo is me, i am koo in this story hahaha my brain is also fog rn. and i also want to go to my two loves and get back scratches :( but alas i am not, which is a crime tbfh. have fun besties, enjoy this lil fluff story as i am still fighting my way through my wips 🧡
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Jungkook doesn’t knock, but maybe he should have. There are two reasons why he didn’t know. He is so used to being welcome in Yoongi’s wing that he forgot. And he is currently thinking of his last hunt, which means he forgot. Basically, he forgot. Bear with him, Jungkook really has his mind full lately.
Jungkook didn’t knock before entering Yoongi’s bedroom, but maybe he should have. You are with him. You and Yoongi are sitting on the fur rug by the fire. A game is laid out between you and him and you seem to share some wine. Slow R&B is playing on the radio. An empty snack plate is by your hip. You and he stopped in your game to look at Jungkook.
“Oh? Oh sorry, I didn’t knock”, Jungkook gasps. “Should I leave?” 
“No, it’s okay”, you assure him.
“Stay.”
“Okay. Uhm. Can I sit with you?” 
“No bun, you have to sit by the bed.”
Jungkook nods his head in understanding and walks to the bed.
“What? Baby, I was being sarcastic. Come here”, Yoongi says.
“Oh? Sorry, I didn’t get that. My brain’s kinda foggy tonight.”
“Why? What’s up?” 
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just overwhelmed for no reason”, Jungkook says and sits down between you and Yoongi. 
“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie”, you say, rubbing his knee soothingly. 
“Thanks”, Jungkook says and grins shyly. 
“Want some wine to take the edge off?” Yoongi offers.
“Yeah, thanks.” 
Yoongi stands up to get a third glass from his drink display. While he is gone, Jungkook scans his eyes over the game. He gives up trying to understand it after a few seconds.
“I see this and my head’s about to burst”, he says, rubbing his eyes. 
“Gosh you”, you chuckle fondly. “It’s a fun game.”
“What do you have to do? It looks like a crime scene.”
“It is a crime scene. There are different cards and each card has a murder case on it, which you have to solve with the clues. You figure out the clues as you move the figure over the board until you find the murderer. It’s addicting. Yoongi and I already played through three of these game boxes.”
“We have. We’re expert detectives these days.”
You and Yoongi exchange a soft, giddy look. Jungkook likes witnessing it.
“Mhm, sounds like fun but also like way too much thinking. My neurons are fried tonight, seriously”, he says.
“Here, drink. Maybe it’ll make it easier”, Yoongi offers the wine and sits down.
Jungkook accepts it, drinking it by sipping on it. 
You take a sip of your wine as well then lean over the game board to inspect the room the figure is currently in.
“Look Yoongi, there is a red dot in the right corner.”
“Red dot. Wait, I saw a red dot on one of the hint cards”, Yoongi says and picks up the card you already managed to collect. 
Jungkook stays with you and him, watching you play the game. It is relaxing to share this moment together. You and Yoongi have really relaxing voices when you talk with each other. It is done with so much love and care and never really goes above a certain level of volume. Jungkook swears that it helps his overstimulated mind calm down. 
The only time you and Yoongi are a little louder is when you solve the murder and you high five each other. Jungkook is resting in the fur rug by now, eyes heavy and fingers mindlessly playing with the strands of fur. His body is spread out, resting on his tummy which gives you the perfect angle to scratch his back. Jungkook swears that he is floating on fluffy clouds right now. This is heaven.
“So now what? Another crime?” Yoongi suggests, pouring himself another glass of wine.
“I think I’m done with murders for a night. Besides, we should conserve it, otherwise we’re gonna finish the box in two days again.” 
“Fine, you’re right”, he says and pouts.
“Hey, don’t pout. Just ‘cause we finished the game, doesn’t mean it’s over. Now comes the best part.”
“The best part?”
“Mhm, you know I’m the kinda detective to keep work separate from pleasure. We solved the case, partner. Work’s done.”
Yoongi smiles lopsidedly, chuckling deeply when you climb on his lap and kiss his jawline.
“Princess, we aren’t alone.”
You glance at Jungkook, mouthing at Yoongi’s jawline as you do. Jungkook seems mesmerised, licking his lips repeatedly. 
“And? It’s not like it’s something he hasn’t seen before”, you say and lick a path along his jaw until you have his pierced ear under your tongue. You flick the piercing and take it between your teeth, tugging on it. All while you keep looking deep into Jungkook’s dark, pretty eyes. 
Yoongi purrs, squeezing your ass in warning.
“Behave.”
“But I’m tired of being the good cop.” 
“Well, I’m not.” He says and lifts you off his lap.
“Hmpf, spoilsport”, you mumble with a pout, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 
Yoongi grins, cleaning the game. 
“Please don’t stop.”
Jungkook’s small, quiet beg draws attention to him. He is making puppy eyes at you, looking so in love.
“Excuse me?” Yoongi asks, cocking his brow up.
“Don’t stop because of me.” Jungkook pouts. “If you stop because of me, I’ll feel sad.”
“No bun, it’s not because of you. I just”, Yoongi sighs in defeat. He shoves the game aside and lowers himself to nibble on Jungkook’s ear.
Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes and chasing his affection.
“Tonight’s such a calm night. Just don’t wanna change the vibes, you know?”
“So it’s not my fault?”
“No bunbun, it’s not your fault.”
Jungkook exhales in relief, melting deeper into the rug.
Yoongi sits up and leans close to kiss your neck. You chase the affection, closing your eyes for it.
“And it’s not your fault either, princess. Okay?”
“I know.” You smile at him. “I like this vibe too.”
Yoongi retorts the smile before shifting his attention back to the game. He begins cleaning it up again, while you put your attention on scratching Jungkook’s back with two hands.
It feels so good to him that he starts purring, eyes closed and lips parted.
“This feels good”, he whispers.
“Yes?”
“Mh-hm.”
“Then I’ll keep doing it.”
While you are busy giving Jungkook the best head scratches ever, Yoongi makes it his job to clean up the wine glasses as well. He disappears to the kitchen for it, leaving you and Jungkook alone.
The latter peels his eyes open, scanning the room.
“Did hyung leave?”
“Yup. He just can’t sit still. If there’s a mess, he needs to clean it.”
“Don’t be too mad at him for that. I understand him. It’s difficult to have mess around you when you are so used to the mess being dead bodies.”
“I know, I’m not mad at all. Kookie, are you okay?”
“I don’t know. I think today wasn’t a good day. I, I went hunting with Tae and Jimin and I ripped through a deer. It messed me up.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry to hear this, sweetie. Don’t beat yourself up about it, everyone can have bad days.”
“Yeah well, your bad days mean faulty magic. Mine means turning into a homicidal killer.” He instantly looks at you with guilty eyes. “I’m sorry. This sounded insensitive. Your bad days are valid too.”
“I know you didn’t mean it like that.”
“What’s the matter?”
You let Jungkook answer Yoongi’s question because he deserves to speak for himself.
“I ripped through a deer today, hyung. I feel so bad because of it.”
“Don’t feel bad, bunbun. You’re still learning to adjust. I’m sure that you’ll do better again tomorrow.”
“You think so?”
“I do. You’re my babyboy after all.”
“Oh my god, shut up”, Jungkook gasps and hides away in the rug, giggling to himself and kicking his feet.
Yoongi chuckles, ruffling his hair.
“Now, what do you two say to dinner and a movie?”
“Min Yoongi, are you suggesting a movie date?” you say.
“I am. Loud and proud. Kook needs a distraction and you need food.”
“Fine, I’d love to have dinner and watch a movie”, you coo.
“Me too. But please no meat. I’ve had enough of that today”, Jungkook says, making you and Yoongi laugh. He grins, joining your laughter moments later.
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oceisastar · 3 months ago
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if you're accepting of like, an aphrodisiac kink, would you do skott (hsr) grinding on male!husband!reader after getting powdered aphrodisiacs thrown in his face......
If not then vanilla (just some praise), honeymoon sex is fine ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ
MDNI (skott x male!husband!reader, aphrodisiac wine, grinding, skott is horny for his husband, rimming, it’s just pretty cute tbh)
omgggg. we’ll do liquid aphrodisiac bc it’s easier to incorporate but let’s go
do not repost / translate / re-use my work in any shape or form.
**
Skott often gets ahead of himself—especially when he’s drowning in work. Years of wheeling and dealing, you suppose.
You were going to offer him a taste of some… ‘special’ wine and slowly work your way up to it, but Skott is nothing if not all in. He had snuck into your wine cabinet, stealing the sweetest red and to his knowledge, was going to have a totally normal evening with his husband.
Given his reaction about 30 minutes later, that was not the case.
“Haah, c’mon, what’re you standing around there for? T-touch me.” Skott hiccups, dragging your hands up his chest as his back is flush to your front. His slender body arches into your touch, hungrily seeking more of your heat.
You oblige him with a smile, sucking at his earlobe. “What has gotten into you, sweetheart?”
“Mmm, I don’t know but I feel so, ah, hot. Oh, fuck that feels good.”
He must’ve had quite the dose, because he’s standing hard at attention, straining below his pants and it’s barely been 10 minutes of grinding.
“Naughty Skott.” You smirk into his ear. “Did you get into my stash?”
“O-of what?” He pants, grinding relentlessly against you. You’re starting to get hard—I mean, who wouldn’t when such a tantalizing treat was rubbing his ass against you?
“My wine, sweetheart.”
“Yours, schmours, it’s our wine. Our property is shared since we’re m-married.” He pants out, a soft sheen of sweat on his skin. When did it become so hot?
You smile, hands running up his thighs and holding him in place as you indulgently grind against him.
“O-oh! That’s it. That’s the spot, god, I love you so much—” he babbles, stuck in a haze of lust, moaning and writhing as the heat in his body reaches a fever pitch.
“Fuck me! I need you to fuck me, please.” Skott pants, dragging your hands to squeeze at his waist.
The feeling of your clothed cock pressing against his ass makes his stomach jump.
“Of course, baby.” You smile and drop to your knees.
***
Your tongue works its way into his hot, tight hole as he’s bent over the kitchen counter, spit drooling from his mouth, glasses askew.
“Oh my g-god!” He gasps, hips jerking upward as you eat him out mercilessly.
You lick and suck, enjoying all the ways he stutters and shivers, making all sorts of sweet sounds for you.
“Maybe we should give you an aphrodisiac more often, Skott. I like this side of you.” You say, massaging his balls, slowly stroking at him as you continue to delve deeper into his hole.
“Huh?” Skott mumbles, lost in the daze of lust.
You laugh warmly. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ll take care of it. Now, lift that ass up for me.”
***
After painstakingly stretching him with both your tongue and fingers, he’s dripping all over the kitchen floor, barely hanging onto the counter.
“C’mon, big guy! Gimme your cock!” He slurs, cheeks flushed a deep red as he looks back at you over his shoulder.
“‘Big guy’?” You snort, hands finding his lower back. “I’m your husband.”
“Okay, geez, fine.” Skott rolls his eyes, “Gimme your cock, my husband, partner in crime, love of my life, is that bet—oh!”
The moment he starts endearing himself to you, you slide in. The swell of his body is a tight fit, hot and desperate as you begin to press in.
“Sweetheart.” You grit out.
Skott reaches back clumsily, grabbing at the back of your neck as he arches his back, pressing you deeper in. “That’s it, oh god. I need it so bad, need you stretching me out just like that—”
You fuck him slowly, taking time to let him warm your cock. His walls are velvety and eager to welcome you in, just like they always are. Skott is always a perfect fit.
The first time you took him is as sweet as the last.
You fuck him until late in the evening, his shirt splattered with his release, a beautiful mess as he finally begins to come down from the aphrodisiac in his system.
“Fucking… hell…” Skott pants, skin covered in bite marks and cum and sweat.
You kiss him deeply, reveling in the way he melts against you.
Let’s just say you have a special plan for your anniversary wine…
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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 months ago
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Day 31: "I've got you"
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Masterlist flufftober 🎃
Imagining Spencer as the unit chief drives me feral, and this is kinda hurt/comfort, but I hope you like it.
I'm sorry it's been a few more days, but I needed a break from everything urgently. Anyway, here it is! Thanks for making it this far, see you next year ;)
For weeks, Spencer Reid had been temporarily filling the role of unit chief. He still felt a bit uncomfortable in this position, more accustomed to contributing his knowledge than leading. However, with each new case, his responsibility towards the team—and especially towards you—became clearer. He wasn’t just your mentor in an academic sense, but also in a professional one, and he felt a connection that went beyond mere work. Spencer had become someone who wanted to protect you, not just guide you.
That’s why, when the preliminary analysis of the case indicated that the victim they had just found at the crime scene was someone close to you, he felt an uncontrollable urge to keep you away from that situation. He remembered all too well what it felt like to lose someone dear in such a violent way and didn’t want you to have to face that same shattering reality.
You were already walking toward the yellow tape, ready to help decipher the modus operandi of the killer you were chasing, when he quickly approached you, his expression grave and full of concern. He wasn’t going to give you the chance to resist; he had decided that the best course of action was to pull you back, to shield you from the pain before it was too late.
“You’re off this case,” he said firmly, his voice carrying an authority he rarely used with you.
“What? Why?” you protested, frowning. “Why are you asking me this, Reid? Do you think I can’t handle it?”
He shook his head, his face serious, his gaze trying to persuade you without words. The idea of letting you see that was unbearable to him. He already knew it wasn’t a guess; it was a hard truth, difficult to digest and even harder to accept. He felt his fingers tense, his hands fighting the urge to physically hold your shoulders, to restrain you with the strength he needed to keep you from facing that devastating sight.
“Listen to me. This isn’t something you should see. The victim… it’s someone you know.”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to process what you had just heard. The air grew thick, your breathing heavier as a wave of disbelief and fear began to take hold. Yet, you resisted. Ignoring his words, you pulled away from his side in a desperate impulse, determined to confirm the truth for yourself.
Spencer tried to stop you, but it was no use. The scene unfolded before you, and your eyes landed on the lifeless face of someone you deeply loved. Reality hit you hard, and all your strength collapsed in an instant. It was as if the world crumbled around you, and you were paralyzed, trapped in that endless moment of pain and desolation.
Spencer watched as you broke down. The shock in your face, the trembling in your hands, the emptiness in your gaze… it was all a blend of emotions he knew too well. Seeing any corpse was hard, for sure, but seeing someone you knew lying on the floor was heartbreaking.
As he looked at you, he recalled his own experiences of loss. Those nights when he had desperately wished for a hug, a refuge, a promise that things would be okay. His heart broke seeing you so vulnerable, and without thinking further, he crossed the distance between you and wrapped you in his arms.
The warmth of his embrace shattered the emotional blockade you had been submerged in, and suddenly, you found yourself clinging to him with all your might, seeking in his presence a comfort that seemed impossible.
You felt the weight of your emotions overflowing, the pain pulling you down with an unstoppable force. Your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, and you buried your face in his chest, as if you were trying to disappear in his embrace. Spencer felt each shaky breath, each tear that fell onto his clothing, and he held you with the same intensity, as if he too depended on that contact to stay whole.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice barely breaking, as if those words could somehow shield you from reality.
In his mind, Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about all he had wished for in his worst moments. No one had been there to hold him in the same way when he faced his own tragedies. He remembered the loneliness, the deep pain that threatened to consume him, and how he had learned to bury his feelings just to keep going. But now, at that moment, he felt a desperate urge to be for you everything he had never had.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated, with a conviction that brought you a faint sense of calm. His arms were like a barrier against the world, a shield that offered you protection amidst the chaos around you. In that moment, nothing else mattered; only the warmth of his embrace, the firmness of his hold, and the words he whispered like a mantra. He wasn’t promising that the pain would go away, but that he would be there to hold you through it.
Around you, the crime scene continued its course: the patrol lights illuminated the night, agents went on with their work, and the murmur of voices mixed with the ambient noise. But for you, all of that faded away; there was only Spencer and the refuge he provided in that moment of weakness.
The trembling in your hands began to subside little by little, though the pain did not disappear. Your breathing became a bit steadier, and you dared to look up, meeting Spencer’s eyes. There was something in his expression, a mix of empathy and determination that made you feel understood. He wasn’t just there as your boss or your mentor; he was there as someone who understood your suffering in a way no one else could.
In his mind, Spencer repeated a silent promise. He wouldn’t let you go through the same things he had. You couldn’t know it, but each gentle rub on your back, each softly whispered word, was charged with a silent resolve, a promise that he would do everything he could so you wouldn’t have to face the pain alone.
“We’re going to get through this,” he finally whispered, his voice steadier than he actually felt. And as you nodded weakly, you clung to that phrase as if it were an unbreakable promise.
Spencer kept his arms around you for several minutes, ignoring the passage of time and the murmur of the other agents. He was aware that you’d have to face reality eventually, that you’d have to process what had happened. However, he was willing to hold you as long as necessary, because he knew that in moments like this, support and company were the only things that could mitigate the pain, even if just a little.
To him, holding you was more than an act of comfort; it was an act of redemption, a way to heal his own wounds by offering you the support he had never received. And in that instant, you both shared a moment of intimacy and understanding so profound that it transcended words.
When you finally pulled away, he kept a hand on your shoulder, a gesture of support that anchored you to reality. Your eyes met, and in Spencer’s gaze, you found a silent promise that you would be okay, that he would be by your side for as long as it took. And although the pain hadn’t vanished, you knew that, at least for that moment, you weren’t alone.
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adkawariatka · 9 months ago
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Hi, it turns out that fanfiction is really addictive and I still cant move past any recomendations without checking it out. So I have another idea for a dcxdp crossover….
Danny is living on Gotham streets for 4 months. Its perfect hiding place becouse of its aura. Many tradic deaths and general danger on every corner creats ideal barier for all sorts of ghost hunting equipment. Danny wos relucant about Gotham at first but after few failed attempts at finding hiding space, he decided that to hell with that and he will at least try. And thank the ancients that he did because its perfect. No one pays him any attention there is too much homless out there. Even if most kids are staying at Crime Alley seeking Red hood protection. thats one of the reasons why he hestitated at coming to ghotam: vigilinates. They are dangerous, becouse of partnership with goverment…. Who according to Anti-Ecto laws considers him non-sentient and in need of contamination or more often elimination. So yes Danny wos relucant but it turned out fine….. for now. No ghost or human gosthunter found him yet so he counts it as a success. Any other city, forest, mountains or everything else he tried didn’t last longer that a month. He might not be proud of his surviving technics like stealing, laying and dumpster diving but its not like he has a choice…. He is too much alive to be accepted in to infinite relams for good which is dumb if you ask Danny becouse he is at the same time its Crown Prince. But maybe Danny is just too naive or something. He does not care. On the other hand he is too dead to be accepted by humans so he kind of floats in between never to fit properly anywhere. He is surviving, and for about a year he wos completly alone until that one day…
Danny wos sitting on the bench in his favourite park close to lovely Café that had really beatifull cupcakes with blue whipped cream. He liked to pretend that he is a customer there and just waits for his order….that wos never placed…. Well who is he kidding he is just creepy homless kid that stares at people eating sweets from across the street. Pretty pathetic IF you ask Danny but he prefers not to dwell on his mental health thank you very much. So he is staring when a group of kids takes one of the outside tables. And like a serious creep listens in to their conversation. Well its not like he can swich off his super hearing.
The boys are talking about some homework from school. Danny assumes they are classmates becouse of their maching clothes. When to their table comes another one with darker skin and black hairs. The occupants share meanigfull glances and let the newcommer sit. Danny knows that look. It does not indicates anything good. Its the expression that Dash would make whenever he wos about to do something awful to him. Then the guy with blonde hair says
- Damian why don’ t you eat with us?
And then procedes to push the plate with cookies closer to the boy
- I thought I informed you Winser that I do not eat anything made of milk or other animals products. I am vegan.
Answered Damian with monotone voice. He sat incredybly straight and wos so stiff that Danny thought that must hurt.
- But its so good. beside I offered it. wouldnt it be polite of you to at least try?
Wisner insisted. Sly grin on his lips.
- Leave him be Mike he probably has problems with digesting such hard avaible products.
Said boy to the left with massive collection of pimples on his Chin. Danny named him spotty.
- I do not have any „digestive problems” as you put it Jenkin. I simply choose not to.
- of course pardon our lack of knowledge. Its just we worry that your… original diet wos a little lacking… or maybe you ate a little too much chocholate when you where younger. Thats all
And all of the group snickers to spotty „jokes”. Danny Thinks its primitive and disgusting. Racizm is low blow specially after Damians next words:
- I do not understand
And they laught even more. Damian just sits there confused and oblivious to insults vowen in to conversation. And Danny listens and decides that he must tell that boy the truth. He cant turn blind eye to that. He may no longer be a hero but that? He can help with that. Soon bullies get bored of throwing hidden insults at Damian and go away. Damian sits at their table alone staring at the crumbs of cookies. He looks lonely. Danny standard and walks over to him. But before he reaches the table his occupant whirles to face him. His eyes are very green. Not like ectoplasm but close. They are pretty expresive. Danny can see frustration and confusion in them.
-hi there!
Geats cheerfully.
- I don’t have any cash on me right now
Its the first thing Damian says to him. Rude Danny thinks even if he does looks like a beggar with his thorn jeans and dirty jumper, but he has a mission. And he does the one thing that helps him in stressfull, akward or life treathening situations: he turns it into a joke
- Shame but I will make an exeption for you and give you my services for free
- I am not interested
Damian seems irritated now. Danny procedes to ignore him and sits at the table.
- Well as an expert in friendship I can tell you that those guys weren’t your friends. Better keep away from them
- Thats none of your business. Go away
- well maybe not but you should know what they were saying to you….
And then Danny proceded to inform Damian about the hidden insults and racizem comments. Damian tried to say something and even walk away but Danny wos presistent. When he finaly finished Damian exploded
- Leave me you insolent lowborn go find yourself another imbecyle to milk for money! Or I will stab you!
- Wow that same fancy insults there. I havent Heard lowborn yet. Anyway have a good day!
And Danny proceded to turn on his heel and walk away. He left Damian dumbfoned staring at his back. if the boy decided to do something about this then good if not then Danny at least feels like he did everything he could in this situation.
-
Damian wos confused. That homless lowborn wos strange. He wos not familiar with Damian nor his family. But. Damian couldnt stop thinking about what he told him. About his classmates their words and hidden meanings. Damian wos not hier to Demons head and son of Batman without a reason. He had skills, keen mind and wos curious. So he checked, he spent almost all night reading different forums and sites about bulling and racizem. He tried not Think about how much he resembled Drake in the morning. What he found wos…. Not plesant. It turned out he missed a lot of signs of his position at school. It wos unbeconing of someone of his class. He wos glad to be aware of that problem but now he did not know what to do with it. Father and Grayson expected him to make „friends” and up until yesterday he thought he fullfiled their orders thru his classmates but now he realised it wos failure. He did not want father to Discover his mistake. So now he has different problem he does not know exacly what that „friendship” wos supposed to be. Internet wos not really helpfull, there were so many diversive definitions that he wos confused about what wos true. He wos not going to admit to father or Grayson his incompetence. He will find solution himself. He has one idea that just might work. The lowborn named himself expert in friendship. Damian just has to find him and ask. He seemed willing to sell his knowledge.
-
Danny wos a little confused and suprised to see angry boy from two days before him. In his defense Danny did not start this conversation. It wos Damian who came to his bench across the café and demanded his services. Which wos weird in itself even before he asked about the price. But he did remember that he made a joke about services so that checks.
- look I am not…
Started Danny but Damian cut him off.
- you introduced yourself as an expert in friendship so I require your services. I will pay generously.
God now Danny wos going to be arrested for child manipulation and thieft. No that can’t happen. He already is hunted for his halfa status that’s enough.
- Listen I don’t want any money. I joked that day. I saw a kid being bullied and stepped in. Further events does not concern me.
Danny tried to leave but the kid wos presistent.
- Well your knowledge proved usefull. I want more
-kid, Damian I don’t want to get in trouble by using you or something. I am pretty sure there is some paragraph for that. Ask Google, it’s better option. And without me involved
- you think I didn’t do it already?! I am not stupid, but the information there are contradicting itself and I can’t distinguish what is true and what is not!!!!
Danny looks at Damian. He is shaking a little, and his words are colored by desperation. Ancients this is trouble… but he wos in this situation before wosnt he? A boy who does not know basic social skills in foreign dimension…alone and lost. Fuck he can’t leave Damian hanging. He can feel his fear in the air. Damn ghost abilities.
- Fine what’s your problem?
-
Danny has been meeting with Damian for over 2 months now. the kid wos socially awkward but quick witted and genarlly nice company. Well Danny wos alone for so long that his judgement may be clouded by he does not dwell on that. It’s nice having someone around. And Damian talks to him. He missed that. First few meeting wos a little awkward but it got better. Danny tried to be helpful,?first they talked about the school interactions, who even wos a friend. But then they got deeper, it turned out that Damian knew about social interactions little to nothing. They talked about family how it works, what it should be like. It wos ironic considering Danny neglectful parents and dangerous home. But he knew how it should look like. Jazz make sure of that when she wos alive. Then Damian started to open up about his origin. Trainings, mother and weird hierarchy. Well Danny saw a lot wilder shit in the zone. A kid from assassin cult wosnt the most shocking but still fucked up. He thinks that Damian might be even winning his little competition: „who had more screwed childhood” He thinks that his calmness helped Damian to share. Ancients he feels like Jazz…. It is not that bad. Damian brings him snacks, becouse Danny refused any money. And Danny talks to him too. Tells him about the stars, laughs about stories of Sam and Tucker Damian will never know who is he talking about so there is no harm. First time from death of everyone loved he does not feel alone.
-
Damian didnt plan to get close to Danny. It wosnt the plan. But he wos such good listener. Danny wos systematic in his explanation of reactions and habits that are „normal” in society. He wosnt showing horror or acted surprised when he told him about discipline in league or it’s hierarchy. He didn’t even flinch when he conveyed stories of trying to establish his position in manor by attempting to murder Drake. He listened then pointed out how different manor and league functioned and then calmly suggested that he should talk to Timothy. Just like that no screaming or anger. Now he knows why father wos so frustrated with him. According to Danny family doesn’t have strict hierarchy or rules punishable by death. It wos strange to have everything finally explained. He understands so much more. He sees that Grayson tried to explain it to him before. But as much as he is fond of the man he wos unsuccessful in his attempts. But he still has one problem… father told him to make friends. It’s a mission that he is failing right now. And if he is being honest he is not talented in this department. Not that he will admit it to anyone… well apart from Danny. When he asked him what else he should do to accomplish this mission he got quiet and fidgeted for a while and then offered
- well if you want I can be your friend
Damian stopped his walk and stared at him. Did Danny filled all the requirements? He did helped Damian not expecting anything in return which friends are supposed to do according to Danny himself, his presence wos entertaining. They understood each other. Both suspicious of their surroundings and cautious in every situation. They know about each other a lot of useless information like favourite food (Danny loved burgers), colors, hobbies or general interests.
-yes that would be acceptable
Damian saw the happy glint in Danny’s eyes and the way he relaxed. They started to walk again as if it wosnt admission of most importance.
So I may post a little follow up about how Tim reacted to Damian apology? I will see. As you can see my writing isn’t the best sorry😅. So in here Danny’s family and friends from Amity are dead and he is 16-isch Damian is fresh from the league and is obviously confused.
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muzansfangs · 5 months ago
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Hiii! I hope ur still accepting requests. Recently, an idea has stuck in my head. What about taking bath with Aizen and his s/o? I hope you will accept it!
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Cleanse my soul.
Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to Shinji Hirako, Kisuke Urahara, Kensei Muguruma, Rojuro Otoribashi, Lisa Yadomaru, Hiyori Sarugaki;
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, cock-warming, vaginal sex, creampie, fear play, smoking, clit-edging, jealousy, nudity, Lieutenant Aizen, morally grey reader, mention to attempted murder, violence, gore, blood, talks about the future, betrayal, trust issues, turn back the pendolum arc, established relationship;
Plot: He was back, knocking on your door in the dead of the night. His Lieutenant badge had been damaged, the gleam in his chestnut eyes telling you he had succeeded in accomplishing his plan. He always seeked your company, after long days of work and unspeakable crimes committed to chase his dream of becoming a God. You were the only thing he would have never given up to on his climb to the Heaven.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Reading by the window to distract yourself, you had watched in agitation the way your Captain had left the barracks to investigate on the sudden disappearence of Kensei Muguruma and and some members of his squad. Your stomach churned, apprehension leaving space to the mournful feeling of being forced to accept a brutal reality no one else in your Division was prepared for: at the end of the night, you were either going to say goodbye to Hirako Shinji, your Captain, or to Sosuke Aizen, his Lieutenant, your boyfriend.
No one else knew what was really happening, besides you, Kaname Tosen and Gin Ichimaru, the young prodigy Sosuke seemed to be so enthusiastic about. The secrets you harbored behind your soft smile, when you conversed with your friends, as if you had not just witnessed to some poor inhabitants of the Rukongai vanishing before you wary eyes, when you lied for him, when you cradled his face in your hands and reassured him everything was going to be okay, when he silently pleaded you to cleanse his soul by fucking you up against a wall and telling you the world was soon going to acclaim you their queen, were slowly consuming you up from the inside like acid sizzling the delicate walls of your stomach.
Despite that, you had chosen him above anything and anyone else. You were the priest absolving him from the sins he kept on staining his soul with for the sake of his ideals. The real question was: who cleansed your soul?
You often queried whether his efforts to keep your hands clean were actually successful. You were not innocent. You were guilty as well. You had just betrayed the Soul Society and your friends. Your idle tongue was as sharp as Sosuke’s blade. You wondered how many of your friends had already fallen by your boyfriend’s hand. A massacre was taking place outside and there you were, safe in your dorm and hoping Kisuke Urahara was not going to disrupt your lover’s plans.
Someone knocking on your door made you flinch, back straightening as a ramrod as you settled your book down on the ebony desk, careful not to make a sound. What if Sosuke had failed? Maybe he had sold you off too, after being arrested. The mere thought of your beloved boyfriend throwing you to the wolves made chills run down your spine and your mouth turn to chalk. Would Sosuke really do such a thing to you? You wondered, once again, if he loved you as much as you did.
You mentally rebuked yourself for assuming the worst. Sosuke loved you. Why were you doubting his feelings for you? Probably, you were just projecting onto your relationship the ominous feelings, swallowing you in a whirlwind of fear and anxiety, that you experienced when you watched him work cold-heartedly, sacrificing souls, to the chilling phenomen known as Hollowfication.
Your hand reached for your zanpakuto, your bare feet sliding onto the wooden floor without making a sound, just like he had taught you throughout the years you had spent together. You took a sharp intake of breath, tightening your grip on the hilt of your katana until your knuckles turned white. The visitor was masterly suppressing their reiatsu, making it impossible to detect their presence and identify who they were. You knew what you had to do, in case Sosuke’s failed and the guards went after you. Killing comrades, however, was entirely different from massacring Hollows. You were a shinigami, not an assassin. If the person knocking on your door was not your boyfriend, your blade was going to drip viscous, crimson blood of a shinigami.
Hiding your katana behind your back, you slided the door open, ready to become a full-fledged traitress. The lean frame occupying the threshold made you discard the blade onto the floor instinctively, the sound of the weapon clattering against the parquet echoing in the silent night, as your hands clutched the fabric of Sosuke’s shihakushō and pulled him inside. He had come back safe and sound.
It only meant one thing: the Fifth Division had lost its Captain.
You relished the bittersweet taste of happiness achieved through betrayal, when you smashed your lips onto his, hand scrambling to your side to slide the door shut. Yet, you had learnt to be selfish, you had grown familiar with the sensation of enjoying moments of peace and unbridled excitement, when other people were in pain. Sosuke held you close to his chest, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you back with equal fervor. His hair were disheveled, the badge indicating his status of Lieutenant was gone, the black fabric of his uniform torn in some parts, dirt dusted his clothes and visage.
“Are you hurt?” you dared murmuring against his lips, ignoring the way he was already trying to disrobe you.
“Unscathed. — he shortly informed you — But I could use a bath” he added, mouth voraciously assaulting the crook of your neck, whilst you were attempting to make a small conversation to know details about his victory.
However, right now, when you were in his arms and his teeth were nipping at your tender flesh, Sosuke did not seem to give a iota about further explanations. He had won. He had promised to come back to you and there he was, pushing you towards the bathroom, heedless of the corners biting onto your sides as he forced you to stumble backwards to reach the destination he had chosen for you two to spend the rest of the night at.
You winced pathetically against his lips, the chilly, wintry air blowing through the small, wide-open window of your bathroom leaving goosebumps on your now naked shoulderblades. The rustle of your clothes landing onto the floorboard accompanied you to the edge of the bath, as he finally let go of you and began to undress himself before your glossy, dreamy eyes.
No matter how many times you had traced the outlines of his abs with your lips, or fingertips, every single time his body was bared for you to contemplate you lost any cognitive capacity of thinking straight. Sosuke had always got you in a chokehold from the day you first met at the Academy.
He was that kind of man who outfoxed everyone around him, the sweet-natured guy with glasses no one would have ever accused of committing bloodcurdling felonies. Sosuke Aizen was far from being an ordinary man, some stranger easy to forget about. He had captivated you effortlessly in the palms of his hands, like a clueless butterfly delicately landing on the fruity, multicolored petals of a carnivorous plant only to be devoured to the bone. You had become one with him.
You realized you had been fantasizing about him again only when his hand reached for you chin, forcing you to crane up your neck and meet his gaze. His glasses were gone, his beautiful chestnut brown eyes boring into yours in anticipation as he brushed his thumb over your cheek “Focus on me” he commanded, his words no longer sugar-coated, the typical honeyed tone slipping out of his mouth when he talked to you absent.
His ravenous side strived to take over, evidently. He desired you like a helpless shipwrecked person hoped to find water in a deserted island, adrift amidst the salty water of the Ocean.
Seldomly you had recognized the diabolic gleam in his eyes outside the safe walls of your dorms. His lust, his thirst for power, his greed and ambitions were never showcased in his ever so kind eyes, the same pretty eyes bewitching you right now. Sosuke was the incarnation of the infamous wolf in sheep’s clothing. He had people bamboozled, unable to see him as nothing less than a noble, proficient and polite man minding his business and even reprimanding his Captain for the sake of his Division.
A man with leardship, but uncapable of doing any harm.
Perhaps, it was because you knew him so intimately that his demons had grown familiar with yours that you often asked yourself if you were a mere pawn in his hands, a pretty diamond pin to wear in order to fool people about his real intentions. You hesitated, a small frown creasing your forehead as you watched Sosuke impassibly stare at you in confusion.
“Tell me something, Sosuke. — you started, miraculously modulating your voice in a firm but soft tone — Are you going to abandon me, once the world will be in your hands?”.
His eyes clouded over for a moment, your stomach churning in apprehension. What if you had ruined it all? You impudent mouth, your lips quivering in fright, your heart pumping fast in your chest had revealed you were scared of losing him, or to be fair, of him.
Sosuke’s jaw clenched, his other hand gripping your hip to push you back towards the cool edge of the tub, the still warm water sparkling under the moonlight dimly enlightening the room “When the world will be nothing but a possession of mine, I will give it to you” he stated, making your stomach somersault.
Regrets for having even asked him such a silly question gnawed at your stomach, guilty conscience weighing on your shoulders like a heavy read. You blinked a few times in a row, watching as your boyfriend sidestepped you to climb into the tub. The sound of the water splashing onto the floor, overflowing from the edge, filled the air. Sosuke leaned his back against the bath, arms comfortably positioned on each side of it, penetrative gaze commanding you to join him.
Resisting was impossible. Entering the water, you snuggled into his chest, your back adhering to his firm abs as your neck reclined. Your hair tickled his chin, his jawline, his eyes closing to finally relax. He would have never admitted it, but you could tell he was exhausted. Even Kings needed to slack off, to ignore their duties and enjoy the small moments of bliss their life granted them.
“I need you to believe in me” he spoke out then, velvet voice playing the chords of your heart, as you swallowed thickly.
“I believe in you”.
“Then don’t doubt my love for you. Never” he asked of you tiredly, his arms now leisurely encircling your waist to bring your body closer to his, skin to skin, his mouth gliding down the curve of your neck.
You hummed, thighs parting, when his hand slipped further down your body, disappearing underneath the translucent water “I’m sorry. But this is all so scary, Sosuke. I was afraid—”.
“Afraid of what? That you mattered less than glory and honorifics?”.
You squeezed your eyes shut, his deft fingers parting your dewy folds as if they were a syrupy fig for him to feast on, the scene reminding you of a depraved bucolic lyric about a Greek, Attic shepherd corrupting a modest nymph by a river. A blasphemy you were condoning sheepishly.
The moans you let out were not the answers he was trying to coax you to pronounce “Answer me” he pressed.
“N-No!” you stammered, hips rocking as he plunged a finger into your tight hole, causing him to pull it out and gently pinching on your clit. While the action obviously did not hurt you, it sent waves of electricity running through your body. You jolted onto your seat, toes curling as you lolled your head back onto his shoulder.
Sosuke’s teeth nibbled onto your earlobe, before he hushed you “Hush, love. Can you just recall what I have taught you? Provide me a good argumentation and I won’t prolong this torture further” he whispered, his brown eyes shifting to a small cabinet at his right, making his blood boil in his veins.
Why did you still keep such an object in your house?
Were you maybe going behind his back? Were you actually siding with that frowsy scientist he had taken care of nearly an hour ago? Kisuke Urahara would have not been a problem anymore, whatever was the reason behind your injudicious decision of discarding that water-pipe in such a place for his eyes to see. A small test of your loyalty would have sufficed to prove how deeply you cared for him, to understand whether your devotion was pure and solely on him, or not.
Hazy, you clasped your hand over your mouth to muffle out another whimper threatening to erupt from your throat. Rationality left your body, when he touched you. How were you supposed to force your brain to properly function, when Sosuke was flicking your throbbing clitoris torturously between his thumb and index? Despite that, you knew damn well the only solution to your problem was doing exactly what he had said.
Tears prickling in your expressive eyes, you pushed your knees together, only for Sosuke to chide you and run his fingers through your drenched hair. His nails scraped your scalp ever so lightly, but it was enough to stop your futile struggle.
“You have such a pretty mouth, darling. Let me hear your voice, hm?” he mumbled, one of his arms sliding around your abdomen and pulling you flush against him while the other pinched your clitoris again.
You squealed out in overstimulation, your body too sensitive to endure more of this edging. It was his usual wicked game of power and self-control. Sosuke was in command, yet he made sure you always had your chance to make his ministrations cease. All you had to do was playing your part, like a pretty ballerina moving under his instructions. A false step and you sprained your ankle.
You huffed, cheeks heating up in embarrassment and shame for your total lack of backbone, when it came done to him “A Goddess shall never be afraid” you blurted out, sinking further into the water as a satisfied hum resonated from behind you.
True to his words, he stopped playing with your pearl, fingers merely delving into your pussy instead. Scissoring them gently into your warm cavern, Sosuke pressed his lips against your nape, eyes darkening in lust and a something shady you had failed to see due to your position.
“That’s right. You’re the future wife of a God. No matter how powerful and cruel a divinity is… — he started, one of his hand reaching out to grasp that water-pipe irking him to no end — A man is nothing without his woman” he finished, inspecting the smoking device between his fingers.
His words had left you breathless, your inner walls squeezing his fingers as you writhed in his arms. Your moans echoed in your small dorm, probably the shinigamis in the backyard had heard you too, but you did not care, nor did him. They knew better than coming after the Lieutenant’s girlfriend.
The respect he had gained through the years surpassed even the one your comrades had for the late Shinji Hirako.
Your eyelids had shut, relishing into the way he fingered you so deliciously, and your mouth was hanging open to release those shamelessly high-pitched cries of pleasure he loved so much. The hard wood of the pipe resting against your bottom lip, though, made your eyes snap open again.
Dread washed over you, as Sosuke’s fingers tangled your hair, yanking them back harshly “You still keep his gifts. Smoke for me then. Smoke to celebrate his incoming downfall, darling” he crooned, your blood running cold in your veins as he gripped your wrist and directed your hand up to make you grab the object yourself.
Yout shaky hands did wrap around it, teary eyes meeting his cold ones “S-Sosuke, I am sorry! I just forgot to throw it away, I promise” you apologized profusely, watching how he softly smiled at you and prompted you to raise your hips enough for him to impale you onto his cock.
“I know you did. — he cooed, the bulbous head of his shaft stretching your aching hole, as you languidly looked at him and whimpered as he buried himself deep into your welcoming core — I suggest you to smoke in his honor one last time, darling. Cry for his departure” he whispered, mouth leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck.
And you mourned Kisuke’s fate. Oh, you did it so convincingly, for after cock-warming your beloved boyfriend for a while he then began to thrust into you in hard, punishing thrusts making you sob tears of pleasure. You hiccuped, blurry vision, smoke filling your lungs, as you exaled through your nostrils.
Body sore, heat overflowing with Sosuke’s hot seed, you collapsed against chest. His arms held you close to him, as he watched the device sink into the now murky water, forgotten forever like the destiny of all those Captains and Lieutenants who had been unlucky to cross his path.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! Uhm, I feel too ashamed to say anything about this. If it is not toxic, it’s not Sosuke to me. Ah, my first red flag crush… Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I adored writing it!
Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
X O X O
TAGS: @onyxino @velaenaa @villainsrtasty @stygianoir @noirfan12 @bucciaratizippers @linkwho1 @0wh1te0 @bakugosgirl01 @persuasivus because I think you might enjoy it💫
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aronarchy · 2 years ago
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Why we don’t like it when children hit us back
To all the children who have ever been told to “respect” someone that hated them.
March 21, 2023
Even those of us that are disturbed by the thought of how widespread corporal punishment still is in all ranks of society are uncomfortable at the idea of a child defending themself using violence against their oppressors and abusers. A child who hits back proves that the adults “were right all along,” that their violence was justified. Even as they would cheer an adult victim for defending themself fiercely.
Even those “child rights advocates” imagine the right child victim as one who takes it without ever stopping to love “its” owners. Tear-stained and afraid, the child is too innocent to be hit in a guilt-free manner. No one likes to imagine the Brat as Victim—the child who does, according to adultist logic, deserve being hit, because they follow their desires, because they walk the world with their head high, because they talk back, because they are loud, because they are unapologetically here, and resistant to being cast in the role of guest of a world that is just not made for them.
If we are against corporal punishment, the brat is our gotcha, the proof that it is actually not that much of an injustice. The brat unsettles us, so much that the “bad seed” is a stock character in horror, a genre that is much permeated by the adult gaze (defined as “the way children are viewed, represented and portrayed by adults; and finally society’s conception of children and the way this is perpetuated within institutions, and inherent in all interactions with children”), where the adult fear for the subversion of the structures that keep children under control is very much represented.
It might be very well true that the Brat has something unnatural and sinister about them in this world, as they are at constant war with everything that has ever been created, since everything that has been created has been built with the purpose of subjugating them. This is why it feels unnatural to watch a child hitting back instead of cowering. We feel like it’s not right. We feel like history is staring back at us, and all the horror we felt at any rebel and wayward child who has ever lived, we are feeling right now for that reject of the construct of “childhood innocence.” The child who hits back is at such clash with our construction of childhood because we defined violence in all of its forms as the province of the adult, especially the adult in authority.
The adult has an explicit sanction by the state to do violence to the child, while the child has both a social and legal prohibition to even think of defending themself with their fists. Legislation such as “parent-child tort immunity” makes this clear. The adult’s designed place is as the one who hits, and has a right and even an encouragement to do so, the one who acts, as the person. The child’s designed place is as the one who gets hit, and has an obligation to accept that, as the one who suffers acts, as the object. When a child forcibly breaks out of their place, they are reversing the supposed “natural order” in a radical way.
This is why, for the youth liberationist, there should be nothing more beautiful to witness that the child who snaps. We have an unique horror for parricide, and a terrible indifference at the 450 children murdered every year by their parents in just the USA, without even mentioning all the indirect suicides caused by parental abuse. As a Psychology Today article about so-called “parricide” puts it:
Unlike adults who kill their parents, teenagers become parricide offenders when conditions in the home are intolerable but their alternatives are limited. Unlike adults, kids cannot simply leave. The law has made it a crime for young people to run away. Juveniles who commit parricide usually do consider running away, but many do not know any place where they can seek refuge. Those who do run are generally picked up and returned home, or go back on their own: Surviving on the streets is hardly a realistic alternative for youths with meager financial resources, limited education, and few skills.
By far, the severely abused child is the most frequently encountered type of offender. According to Paul Mones, a Los Angeles attorney who specializes in defending adolescent parricide offenders, more than 90 percent have been abused by their parents. In-depth portraits of such youths have frequently shown that they killed because they could no longer tolerate conditions at home. These children were psychologically abused by one or both parents and often suffered physical, sexual, and verbal abuse as well—and witnessed it given to others in the household. They did not typically have histories of severe mental illness or of serious and extensive delinquent behavior. They were not criminally sophisticated. For them, the killings represented an act of desperation—the only way out of a family situation they could no longer endure.
- Heide, Why Kids Kill Parents, 1992.
Despite these being the most frequent conditions of “parricide,” it still brings unique disgust to think about it for most people. The sympathy extended to murdering parents is never extended even to the most desperate child, who chose to kill to not be killed. They chose to stop enduring silently, and that was their greatest crime; that is the crime of the child who hits back. Hell, children aren’t even supposed to talk back. They are not supposed to be anything but grateful for the miserable pieces of space that adults carve out in a world hostile to children for them to live following adult rules. It isn’t rare for children to notice the adult monopoly on violence and force when they interact with figures like teachers, and the way they use words like “respect.” In fact, this social dynamic has been noticed quite often:
Sometimes people use “respect” to mean “treating someone like a person” and sometimes they use “respect” to mean “treating someone like an authority” and sometimes people who are used to being treated like an authority say “if you won’t respect me I won’t respect you” and they mean “if you won’t treat me like an authority I won’t treat you like a person” and they think they’re being fair but they aren’t, and it’s not okay.
(https://soycrates.tumblr.com/post/115633137923/stimmyabby-sometimes-people-use-respect-to-mean)
But it has received almost no condemnation in the public eye. No voices have raised to contrast the adult monopoly on violence towards child bodies and child minds. No voices have raised to praise the child who hits back. Because they do deserve praise. Because the child who sets their foot down and says this belongs to me, even when it’s something like their own body that they are claiming, is committing one of the most serious crimes against adult society, who wants them dispossessed.
Sources:
“The Adult Gaze: a tool of control and oppression,” https://livingwithoutschool.com/2021/07/29/the-adult-gaze-a-tool-of-control-and-oppression
“Filicide,” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Filicide
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gloomwitchwrites · 6 months ago
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Thinking about…Hitmen!141
Hitman!Soap loves a good rivalry. His favorite is the one he has with a fellow assassin. The bickering is fun, the first to find the target is a thrill, and the angry, primal sex is even better. Soap keeps telling himself that he hates her, that the two of them are nothing more than rivals, but if he’s being honest—he enjoys her company.
Hitman!Ghost is a man framed. Yes, he takes people out for a living, but someone has it out for him. This job was supposed to be easy—and a good payout, too. It was a set-up. Someone either wants him out of the game, or his identity has been revealed to authorities. Ghost has to leave everything and everyone he loves behind. Survival is paramount.
Hitman!Gaz is relatively new to the game. This isn’t the life he wanted for himself. It just happened. Most people overlook him—seeking others. But Gaz has just scored a huge hit, one that would swing his reputation upward. It’s dangerous, but this is his chance.
Hitman!Price didn’t think much of his newest target. He often accepts most jobs, but he does go out of his way to make sure the crime fits the punishment. Price is still a man of honor, and he follows a code of ethics even if others believe he’s just a criminal. But this last job seemed simple. Price didn’t expect to kill a man and leave behind a distraught wife. He finds her beautiful, though. Intriguing. He shouldn’t. But he’s going to cross that line anyway.
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4vanaa · 10 days ago
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—02 MEET THE MAYBANKS.
MASTERLIST
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Parenting Style:
Kiara (Kie):
⌗ kie is the more structured and responsible parent. she’s the one who emphasizes the importance of education, healthy habits, and emotional intelligence. she balances jj’s wildness by providing stability and routine for their kids.
⌗ kie’s biggest challenge is keeping jj in line (and sometimes herself, when his wild ideas sound too fun to pass up). but at the end of the day, she believes in fostering independence, freedom, and exploration, even if it’s messy.
⌗ she's big on encouraging her kids to be passionate about causes they care about, whether it's environmental activism, volunteer work, or just standing up for what’s right. kie often takes them on nature hikes, environmental clean-ups, and community service projects.
⌗ kie’s methods are a mix of tough love and encouragement. she always explains the reasoning behind rules and lets her kids express their opinions.
JJ:
⌗ jj is the fun dad—the one who wants his kids to live in the moment, break a few rules, and embrace the adventure. he’s incredibly spontaneous and often makes up rules as he goes. his approach to parenting is less about structure and more about experiences—giving his kids the freedom to make mistakes, learn, and laugh.
⌗ jj’s biggest flaw is that he can sometimes act before thinking, which leads to chaotic situations. he’s the one who suggests spontaneous road trips, sneaky pranks, and pushing the limits of what’s “acceptable.” his fun, carefree energy is infectious, but it’s also a challenge for kie, who has to reign him in at times.
⌗ he’s great at making memories, and his kids know that when jj’s around, there’s no shortage of fun. he’s the dad who’ll take them surfing at sunrise or let them stay up late watching movies (while eating way too many snacks).
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The Kids:
KAI MAYBANK (16)
PERSONALITY kai is the perfect mix of jj’s carefree attitude and kiara’s underlying seriousness. as a teenager, he’s confident, outgoing, and always seeking new experiences, whether it’s a wild surfing competition or a community protest. he is known for being a bit of a rebel, especially when it comes to authority figures, but deep down, he’s incredibly loyal and protective of his family.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS DAD kai shares a very close bond with jj and often gets into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out to do something adventurous or taking on crazy dares. jj treats him more like a “partner in crime” than a child, which is something that both frustrates and excites kai.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS MOM he loves kie, but his relationship with her is often marked by the classic teenage rebellion. kai knows his mom will always have his best interests at heart, but he can’t help but test her limits. kie provides the structure he needs, but it’s hard for kai to always see it as helpful rather than restrictive.
FUN FACT kai has a secret soft side and often finds himself emotionally grounded by kie when the world feels too chaotic. he has a lot of respect for her, even if he doesn’t always show it.
MAYA MAYBANK (12)
PERSONALITY maya is the adventurous spirit in the family, always up for a new challenge but with a slight edge of pragmatism (thanks to kie). she’s incredibly resourceful, often finding solutions to problems in unique and surprising ways. maya is outgoing and has no fear when it comes to making new friends or starting bold ideas.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HER DAD maya has an almost identical energy to jj, always getting caught up in his spontaneous adventures and pushing the boundaries of what’s considered “safe.” she’s often jj’s co-conspirator when it comes to pranks, daring feats, and making memories that her mom would rather not hear about.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM while kie tries to keep her in check, maya and kie often team up to keep things grounded. kie teaches her the value of patience and planning, but maya’s rebellious side still comes out in moments of high energy.
FUN FACT maya loves experimenting with new foods and takes after kie’s love for cooking. she has a growing obsession with plant-based recipes, which she often tries to sneak past jj, who, of course, always ends up eating it all.
JAX MAYBANK (7)
PERSONALITY jax is the wild, quirky younger child who often surprises everyone with how much mischief he can get into, despite being the youngest. he’s always asking questions, testing boundaries, and trying to keep up with his older siblings (especially maya, who is his partner in crime). he has a huge imagination and can come up with wild scenarios that leave everyone laughing or shaking their heads.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS DAD jj is a total softie with jax, often spoiling him with treats or letting him stay up late to hang out. jax knows how to melt jj’s heart, and jj is constantly amazed by how funny and clever jax is.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS MOM kie is the one who teaches jax the fundamentals of patience and responsibility. she encourages him to take his time with things, but jax is the kid who’d rather jump into things headfirst. kie has to be constantly vigilant to keep him from doing something reckless (though sometimes she secretly enjoys his wild ideas).
FUN FACT jax is always the first one to drag jj into spontaneous (and often messy) activities, like building an elaborate fort in the living room or setting up an obstacle course in the backyard.
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FAMILY DYNAMICS
KIE AND JJ have a great balance when it comes to managing their family. while jj’s constant enthusiasm and wild ideas create a chaotic atmosphere, kie brings a sense of calm and practicality to keep things grounded. there’s a lot of laughter in their house, but kie’s eye for detail and organization ensures things don’t go too far off-track.
FAMILY CONVERSATIONS ARE OFTEN a mix of spontaneous planning (thanks to jj) and debates over the best course of action (led by kid). jj always tries to convince the family to go on a last-minute trip or take on a new adventure, while kie ensures they have the right supplies and that everyone’s prepared.
JJ IS THE COOL DAD who always encourages his kids to have fun and not worry too much about rules. he’s the one who’ll suggest they skip school for the day to go on a surf trip or sneak them into a late-night movie. he wants his kids to live life to the fullest, but sometimes his lack of boundaries leads to hilarious or sticky situations.
KIE HAS A STRONG moral compass and teaches her kids the value of hard work, empathy, and responsibility. she encourages her children to find their own path, but always keeps them connected to the community and the world around them.
KIE AND MAYA END UP cooking a huge family dinner together, while jj and jax try to “help” but mostly end up causing chaos in the kitchen.
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a/n: meet the routledges out at 11pm tonight??!! maybe we’ll see…meet the heywards + meet the thorntons tomorrow at 8/9 pm est.
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🏷️: @rafecameronswifeyy @papercranesandinkstains @delicatevamps @sereneera @ethanthequeefqueen @zuccheromorena @theanonymousloser @chalahyung01 @mystic-megumi @acidfeens @judesgfirl @rubiehart @callieyanderechan @amterasuu @smithieandy @theeternaloptimistt @marleymarleymarleymarley @akobx @lilygrxcem @fieryghxul @aias-fxtns @starkeysbaby @brxght-world @drewsswifeyy @luvelola @atjlovverr @justsomerandompersonintheworld @totalswag @yesshewrites1 @starsmoonn
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prickly-paprikash · 1 year ago
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The Bishop in the first Castlevania season is pure evil who believes himself good. He's nearly every crime and hypocrisy of the Catholic Church distilled into one neat, wrinkly, putrid man. He is easy to hate. He is supposed to be despised and we are expected to cheer and rejoice when Blue Fangs chewed on half this man's face.
He uses god to control and manipulate the powers and people that be. While his belief in god may be true, the church and the faith are more tools for him to retain control. It is glaringly obvious that this man is power-hungry.
There is nothing, and I mean nothing at all redeemable about that asshole.
The Abbott is every conservative relative who genuinely loves you, but is a blind idiot holding on to institutions simply because they are "right".
While the Bishop's character is real, most of us won't encounter him. We see him on the news. I'm not even American (been there once for two weeks) but even I've seen his like on news and media. He's a televangelist who consolidates wealth, clout and power through the fanaticism of his followers. He is drunk on the authority he possesses. His belief in god isn't the point; whether or not he holds faith, the man cares solely about power.
The Abbott is someone in our lives we know well. Your conservative mother who refuses to even show a modicum of tolerance towards queer people. Your father who is buying into the religious side of Youtube and Tiktok. Your brother who has grown up to carry terrifying, fascistic beliefs. Your sister who feels lost and found some semblance of acceptance in a church who still believes women are lesser. Your aunt who despises vaccines. Your uncle who tells you that you should've become a priest or a soldier.
The Abbott, deep down, has some redeeming features. But it's not enough to forgive him for his idiocy.
Ask any child who had to grow up with a religious parent, especially a Catholic or an Evangelical. They fucking love the story of Abraham sacrificing his child to God, and finding a ram in its place.
Evangelicals are bent on this tale. They will always preach that god comes before children. That children and their suffering and their needs must always take a backseat to the word of god.
A trans child asking their parents to understand—their words will fall on deaf ears because god and the holy man told them that 'transgenderism' is a vile philosophy that seeks to groom and twist kids. A college freshman debating with their parents about free healthcare and immigration will be stonewalled because the charismatic preacher said that god will provide. god will heal. god did not invite these foreigners into this land.
It is Maria, begging her father to listen and having her pleas fall on deaf ears.
The Abbott is someone I hate more than the Bishop.
Men like the Bishop exist, but they are few and far in-between.
But the Abbott? The Abbott is someone I share a table with at dinner. He's someone I see during family reunions. He's someone who shares misinformation online, and I see it on my timeline because we're social media friends.
I fucking hate him so much and I hope he gets what's his.
He never deserved Tera. He never once deserved Maria.
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