#providing additional hiding places

[howdoesone]

How does one convince an Olm that it’s okay to come out and see the light?

Introduction to the Olm: The Mysterious Cave Dweller The Olm, also known as the “human fish,” is an enigmatic amphibian that resides in the dark, underwater caves of the Dinaric Alps in Europe. With its pale, almost translucent skin and ability to thrive in complete darkness, the Olm is a fascinating creature of the deep. Its eyes are underdeveloped, a testament to its life in perpetual…

[reidmarieprentiss]

Water Under the Bridge

Summary: Spencer grovels, he knows he needs to work to regain your trust. Your walls slowly come down, you find happiness. Is it with Spencer though?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: Derek Morgan <3, violence, typical criminal minds content, gun shots, guns, gun shot wound, (un)requited feelings, alcohol consumption, self doubt, happy ending

Word count: 9k

a/n: i cannot even lie to y'all i completely forgot about this story i am sooooo sorry !!!

main masterlist part one part two

It had been a few weeks since that intense conversation with Spencer, and though things weren’t fully resolved, there had been a subtle shift. Spencer had started making small, almost invisible gestures—little things that didn’t scream for attention but spoke volumes. 

One afternoon, you were deep into paperwork, your desk covered in case files. The exhaustion of the day was catching up with you, and you sighed, rubbing your temples. 

“Need a break?” a quiet voice came from behind you. You looked up to see Spencer standing there, holding two cups of coffee—your favorite order in one hand, and his in the other. 

You blinked in surprise. It had been a long time since he’d brought you coffee, but the gesture felt thoughtful, familiar. "How did you know I needed this?" you asked, unable to hide the small smile creeping onto your face.

Spencer shrugged, his expression soft. “Just a guess.”

There was no expectation behind his actions, no demand for forgiveness. He simply placed the coffee on your desk, then turned back toward his own space, giving you the room to process the gesture on your own terms.

—

Work had returned to its steady rhythm, and though things between you and Spencer weren’t as strained anymore, they were...different. Polite. Professional. But there were moments, small pockets of time, where the old familiarity would creep back in.

During a briefing for a new case, you were reviewing the suspect’s profile when Hotch called for your opinion. Your mind momentarily blanked, the exhaustion of the case starting to cloud your thoughts. 

Spencer caught your hesitation from across the table, his eyes flicking toward you with a quiet understanding. He gently stepped in, providing additional information from the file—almost as if he could sense that you needed a moment.

He didn’t overstep, didn’t make it obvious. He just gave you a subtle nod, like the small lifeline was there for you to take or leave. You caught his gaze and offered a brief, appreciative smile. 

After the meeting, you found him near the coffee machine and walked over. “Thanks for that,” you said quietly.

“No problem,” he replied with a small smile. “I’ve got your back.”

It was nothing monumental, just a brief exchange, but it carried a weight of understanding and a reminder of what you once had—and what was slowly being rebuilt.

—

The tension between you and Spencer still lingered, but something had shifted. Spencer wasn’t pressuring you. He wasn’t trying to force a conversation or make grand gestures. Instead, he focused on the little things, the small ways he could help and support you. And that was how, in the middle of a particularly stressful case, you noticed it.

You were sitting at your desk, staring at the seemingly endless stream of witness statements, trying to piece together a lead. Frustration gnawed at you, the pressure of the case and your unresolved feelings with Spencer weighing you down.

Without a word, Spencer appeared at your side, placing a stack of neatly organized files in front of you. “I cross-referenced the witness testimonies with the surveillance footage. There’s a pattern in their timelines that wasn’t obvious at first.”

You blinked, staring at the files. “You did this?”

He nodded, his expression calm, no hint of expectation. “I figured it might help.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. This wasn’t the Spencer who had pushed you away. This was someone who was quietly, steadily trying to be there for you. You picked up the files, scanning the information. He had found connections you hadn’t seen.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said softly, looking up at him. There was no grand declaration in that moment, just a flicker of gratitude and trust slowly beginning to rebuild. And for the first time, you felt like you could let down your guard, just a little.

—

Weeks passed, and Spencer continued to show up in small ways. He didn’t push. He didn’t demand. He was just there, reliable and steady in a way you hadn’t expected from him anymore. You noticed the change. It wasn’t loud or overt, but it was there—his remorse, his commitment to making things better.

One day, in the middle of a case, you found yourselves paired together to interview a witness. The professional atmosphere between you was smooth, almost comfortable again. But as you were driving back to the precinct, there was a moment of silence, and then Spencer spoke.

“I know I can’t undo what happened,” he said, his voice soft but clear. “But I want you to know… I’m still here, and I’m willing to wait. As long as it takes. For you to trust me again.” Spencer glanced at you briefly, “I miss my friend.”

His words hung in the air, genuine and without pressure. You glanced over at him, surprised by the calmness in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t expecting a grand gesture from you in return. He just wanted you to know that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he was ready to put in the effort.

You nodded, your heart softening. “I appreciate that, Spencer,” you said quietly. “I’m starting to see that. I miss you too.”

—

The case was coming to a close, you had been staring at the whiteboard, trying to make sense of the last few pieces of evidence when Spencer approached quietly. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood beside you, studying the board.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he said after a moment, his tone soft but familiar, like the Spencer you used to know. 

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Thinking too hard? That’s rich, coming from you.”

Spencer smiled faintly, the tension between you easing just a little. “Sometimes, you need to step back and see the bigger picture. You’ve been doing this long enough to know that.”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like I’ve been seeing the bigger picture lately.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice quieter. “You’re not alone, you know. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. I’m... I’m here.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. He wasn’t just talking about the case. He was talking about everything—the trust that had been broken, the space that had grown between you.

“I know,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and something else—something closer to hope. 

—

A month later, things had continued to ease between you and Spencer. You still weren’t back to where you had been, but you had begun to feel comfortable enough around him to let your guard down a little. The tension wasn’t as sharp, and the moments of silence between you weren’t so uncomfortable anymore.

One day, while sorting through case files, you made a sarcastic remark under your breath, something about the ridiculousness of the situation you were dealing with. To your surprise, Spencer chuckled, glancing over at you with a grin.

You blinked, and then, without meaning to, you laughed too—a genuine, unguarded laugh that seemed to surprise you both. It wasn’t forced or tense, but natural, like old times.

“Wow, I haven’t heard you laugh in a while,” Spencer remarked, his own smile still lingering.

“Yeah,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him. “Maybe I’m starting to get my sense of humor back.”

The lightness between you felt… good. It wasn’t everything, but it was something. And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things were on their way to being okay again. 

It wasn’t a grand reconciliation, but these moments—these small gestures of kindness, support, and patience—were building toward something real. And you were starting to believe that rebuilding trust was possible, even if it was slow.

—

Spencer had been acting like your friend again, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

At first, it was small things—him stepping in to help with paperwork, offering a quiet word of encouragement when a case got tough. Little gestures that felt like the Spencer you used to know, the one you had trusted, the one you had fallen in love with. But that same Spencer had also been the one who pushed you away, the one who had broken your heart when he refused your feelings. And now, here he was, quietly working his way back into your life, like nothing had changed, like everything could go back to the way it was.

You wanted to be angry. Part of you still was angry. You had been hurt deeply, and that kind of pain didn’t just vanish overnight. Spencer had rejected you when you were at your most vulnerable, leaving you to pick up the pieces on your own. You had worked hard to move on, to distance yourself from the feelings that had once consumed you. And now, just when you thought you were starting to heal, he was back. Trying to be your friend again. Acting like nothing had ever happened.

But the other part of you—the part that remembered how close you used to be—couldn’t help but notice the change in him. Spencer wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t pressuring you. He was just... there. Quietly supportive, offering small signs of care without demanding anything in return. His persistence, his steady presence, was starting to soften something inside you. And that terrified you.

You didn’t want to fall back into the same trap. You didn’t want to reopen old wounds only to have them torn apart again. But there was no denying that Spencer’s efforts were genuine, and it was getting harder to keep your walls up. His actions were slowly chipping away at your resolve, and every time he made you laugh or showed you a quiet kindness, you felt a piece of your guard slipping.

Were you truly over him? That was the question that haunted you, one you didn’t have an answer to. You had tried so hard to move on, to convince yourself that the feelings you had for Spencer were in the past, but now... now you weren’t so sure. His persistence was making you question everything, reopening emotions you thought you had buried. 

The problem was, you didn’t know if you were ready to face those feelings again. What if Spencer wasn’t? What if he didn’t mean it? You couldn’t bear the thought of being hurt again, of opening yourself up only to have him pull away. But the longer this went on, the more you felt the old connection between you returning, bit by bit, moment by moment. 

And so you were stuck, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of something new. Spencer was showing you he had changed, but could you trust that? Could you trust him? Could you trust yourself not to fall too hard, too fast again?

The uncertainty was maddening, and yet, you couldn’t seem to stop the slow progression of your feelings. Spencer’s persistence was working, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, part of you was starting to hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

—

It started innocently enough, the way all promising things seem to. You met them at a bookstore, of all places. It was a weekend, and you were just browsing, trying to enjoy a quiet afternoon away from the chaos of the job. You weren’t expecting anything, least of all meeting someone who would leave such a strong impression on you. 

You were reaching for a book when their voice broke through the silence. “That’s a good one,” they said, pointing to the novel in your hand. “One of my favorites, actually.”

You looked up, surprised to see a person standing there with an easy smile. They were tall, with sharp eyes that held a warmth you wanted to look into for a long while. Their demeanor wasn’t overbearing, just casual, like they genuinely wanted to offer a recommendation. 

“Yeah?” you replied, glancing at the book. “I’ve heard good things about it.”

“I promise it won’t disappoint,” they added, and something about the sincerity in their voice made you smile back.

That was how it began. A casual conversation over books that somehow stretched into coffee. You learned that their name was Ricky, that they were professor at a nearby college. Their life seemed different from yours—calmer, grounded in routine, free from the dangers and chaos of your work. It was refreshing. They treated you with respect, asked about your opinions, and listened to your stories with genuine interest. And when they smiled at you, it wasn’t just a fleeting look—it was as though they were truly seeing you, valuing you.

There was something about Ricky that you couldn’t ignore. They didn’t know about your history with Spencer, about the complicated mess of emotions you were still untangling. They didn’t need to. They just treated you with the kind of respect and consistency you had been craving for so long. It felt easy with them. Simple.

After that first meeting, Ricky started to show up in your life more often. They texted you to check in, asked you about your day. They were attentive in a way that wasn’t overwhelming but was instead comforting. It wasn’t like you were looking to fall into something serious, not after everything with Spencer. But Ricky was… different. They weren't rushing you, weren't pressing for more than what you were willing to give. They were just there, steady and dependable, and that was enough for now.

One night, after a particularly hard day at work, they invited you over for dinner. You had expected something casual, maybe takeout or a quick bite, but when you arrived at their place, you were greeted with the smell of home-cooked food. “Thought you could use a break,” they said with that same warm smile. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you were missing.

Ricky’s presence in your life began to fill a space you hadn’t known was empty. They weren't just kind—they were consistent, reliable. They showed up when they said they would. They followed through on promises. There was no second-guessing with them, no worrying about where you stood. And that, in itself, was a relief. After months of emotional turbulence with Spencer, this felt like a breath of fresh air.

But as things with Ricky slowly began to grow, you couldn’t help but feel the tug of uncertainty in the back of your mind. You weren’t sure if it was because of your history with Spencer, or because you still weren’t fully convinced you had moved on from him. Every now and then, you caught yourself comparing the two—Spencer’s awkward brilliance against Ricky’s steady confidence. It was hard not to.

Yet, with Ricky, there was no fear of rejection, no walking on eggshells wondering if they would pull away. They didn’t carry the same emotional baggage as Spencer did. There were no lingering unsaid confessions or missed opportunities between you two. Ricky was here, in the present, offering you a chance at something you hadn’t had in a long time—stability.

And you couldn’t deny how much that appealed to you. The question now was whether stability was what you truly wanted… or if part of you was still hoping for something more, something unresolved with Spencer.

Spencer had been making slow, steady progress toward reconciling with you. He could feel it in the way your smiles came a little easier, how the conversations between you two were no longer strained, how you were starting to trust him again—bit by bit. He had convinced himself that, if he kept showing up, kept proving to you that he was different now, there might still be a chance. A chance to rebuild, to maybe even become more than friends. It was a fragile hope, but it kept him going.

That fragile hope was shattered the moment he found out about Ricky.

It wasn’t as though you had hidden anything from him. In fact, Spencer hadn’t even realized you had been seeing someone else. It wasn’t until Penelope, in her usual excitement, let it slip in the bullpen during lunch. “Oh my god, have you met Y/N’s new squeeze, Ricky? They’re so lovely!” she had gushed to JJ and Derek, who nodded along.

Spencer’s heart dropped into his stomach.

He had been standing just a few feet away, filing paperwork, and the sound of Ricky’s name hit him like a freight train. His fingers froze mid-motion, and the world seemed to blur around him. You’re seeing someone? Ricky? When had this happened?

He couldn’t stop himself from listening in, trying to gather as much as he could without fully intruding.

“Yeah, Ricky’s super sweet. Y/N seems really happy with them,” JJ added, smiling as she sipped her coffee. “It’s nice to see her like this after everything.”

Happy? Spencer’s mind raced, the weight of that word sinking in. You were happy—with someone else. Someone who wasn’t him. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing as the realization settled deep in his chest. You had moved on. While he had been working his way back into your life, trying to earn your trust, you had found someone else. And not just anyone—someone you were happy with.

Spencer tried to shake it off, tried to focus on his work, but the jealousy and hurt were gnawing at him, louder with each passing second. The idea of you with someone else, of someone else holding the place he had wanted to hold for so long, made his chest tighten painfully. He had been so sure that if he just kept at it, if he just kept being patient, eventually you’d see he had changed.

But now… now he wasn’t sure what to think.

Later that day, Spencer found you by the coffee machine, and though he had planned to act normal, the words came out before he could stop them. “So, I hear you’re seeing someone?” His voice was tighter than he’d intended, and you looked up, surprised by the edge in his tone.

“Yeah,” you said slowly, studying his expression. “Ricky.” You didn’t elaborate, but Spencer could see the softness in your eyes, the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips when you said their name. It made his stomach churn.

He swallowed, trying to keep his emotions in check. “You’re happy?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

You nodded, your smile more assured now. “Yeah, I am. Ricky’s... really good to me.” There was a contentment in your voice, the kind of contentment Spencer hadn’t heard from you in a long time. And that’s when it hit him—this wasn’t just a fling or a rebound. Ricky was important to you.

Spencer felt his chest tighten even further. He wanted to be happy for you—he did. But the jealousy, the frustration, and the deep sense of loss clouded everything. He had spent so long trying to make things right between you, and now it felt like he was too late. He had lost you, and it hurt more than he ever expected.

“You deserve to be happy,” Spencer finally said, forcing the words out despite the lump in his throat. “And... if Ricky makes you happy, then... that’s all that matters.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. There was something vulnerable in the way he was standing there, like he was on the edge of something, trying to hold it together. 

“Thank you, Spencer,” you said softly, not entirely sure what else to say. You could feel the tension between you two, the undercurrent of something unspoken still hanging in the air.

Spencer nodded, his hands in his pockets, trying to mask the turmoil he felt inside. He wanted to fight for you, to tell you that he still had feelings for you, that he wasn’t ready to step aside. But he also knew that your happiness had to come first, no matter how much it hurt. He had waited too long, hesitated too much, and now he was seeing the consequences.

Over the next few days, Spencer wrestled with his feelings. On one hand, he wanted to be selfish, to try and win you back, to show you that he was capable of being the person you needed. But on the other hand, he knew that wasn’t fair to you. You had found someone who treated you with the consistency and care you deserved, someone who didn’t leave you questioning where you stood. Spencer had to face the reality that he had lost his chance.

But the hardest part was realizing that, in his jealousy and frustration, he still cared more about your happiness than his own feelings. And that was the most painful truth of all.

Spencer paced back and forth in the bullpen after everyone else had gone for the evening. He had been trying to focus, trying to distract himself with paperwork, but his thoughts kept circling back to you and Ricky. The jealousy was suffocating, and he needed to vent before he exploded.

Derek was leaning against a desk, watching Spencer unravel. He hadn’t said anything yet, but he knew the kid was on edge. He’d seen it coming for a while, the tension between you and Spencer thick enough to cut with a knife.

Finally, Spencer couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I don’t get it,” he blurted out, frustration clear in his voice. “I’ve been trying, Derek. I’ve been patient, I’ve been showing up, trying to be there for her, and... and then Ricky comes along.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk forming on his face. “So that’s what this is about,” he said knowingly. “You jealous?”

“Jealous?” Spencer repeated, practically scoffing. “Of course I’m jealous! How could I not be? She’s with Ricky now, and they’re... they’re everything I should have been. Steady, consistent, caring—everything she deserves.”

Derek’s smirk only grew as he watched Spencer spiral, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew Spencer needed to get this off his chest, and, well, he’d been waiting for this moment. He knew something had been brewing between you two for ages.

Spencer continued, his pacing more frantic now. “I missed my chance, and I know it’s my fault. I messed up. I pushed her away when she needed me, and now... she’s moved on. And the worst part is, she’s happy, Derek. I saw it in her eyes when she talked about Ricky. She’s happy, and I—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair, his voice breaking. “I don’t even know if I can be mad about it, because I want her to be happy. But it hurts like hell.”

Derek crossed his arms, nodding slowly. He had always known Spencer had feelings for you, even if the kid hadn’t admitted it to himself for a long time. Now, seeing him come apart like this over you, Derek couldn’t help but feel a bit smug—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be there for his friend.

“Look, man,” Derek started, trying to keep his voice steady, “I’ve been waiting for this conversation for a while. You’ve had feelings for Y/N forever, and I knew something was going on between you two, even if you were too stubborn to see it.”

Spencer stopped pacing and looked at Derek, his frustration clear. “How is that supposed to help me right now?”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “What I’m saying is, this whole thing with Ricky? It doesn’t mean it’s over for you and Y/N. Yeah, she’s happy, and yeah, it hurts like hell because you care about her. But you’ve got to stop thinking about what you should have done and start focusing on what you’re going to do next.”

Spencer frowned, his arms crossed defensively. “And what am I supposed to do, Derek? She’s with Ricky now. I don’t want to come between them.”

Derek leaned in a little, his expression softening but still firm. “I’m not saying you should swoop in and try to break them up. But you don’t have to give up either. You want to be in Y/N’s life? Then keep being her friend. Keep being there for her. Let her see the real you—the guy who’s learned from his mistakes.”

Spencer sighed, slumping into a chair, his frustration giving way to exhaustion. “I don’t know if that’s enough.”

Derek walked over and clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Kid, sometimes it’s not about doing the big, dramatic thing. Sometimes it’s about showing up, consistently, day after day, and letting her see who you really are. And if Ricky’s the one that makes her happy, then yeah, you’re gonna have to step aside. But if she starts seeing what I’ve seen for a long time—what I think she saw for a long time, too—then maybe you still have a chance.”

Spencer looked up at Derek, his heart heavy but grateful for the support. “You really think I still have a chance?”

Derek grinned, leaning back. “You never know, Pretty Boy. I’ve seen crazier things happen. But whatever you do, don’t give up just because it hurts right now. You’re too smart to throw in the towel without a fight.”

Spencer nodded, letting Derek’s words sink in. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t ready to walk away from you, not yet. And maybe, just maybe, Derek was right. Maybe showing up, day after day, was how he could finally prove to you that he was worth it.

And even if it hurt, even if it tore him apart inside to see you with someone else, he was willing to wait—if it meant having another chance with you.

—

It was an ordinary afternoon at the BAU, the usual hustle of agents moving around, paperwork piling up, and the sound of phones ringing in the background. Spencer sat at his desk, trying to focus on the case file in front of him, though his thoughts kept drifting. He was still grappling with his conversation with Derek the night before, still trying to figure out where he stood in this whole mess with you and Ricky.

Then, the moment he had dreaded arrived.

You were at your desk, focused on your work, when the doors to the bullpen opened. Spencer barely noticed at first, but then he heard your voice, light and filled with surprise. "Ricky!" you exclaimed.

His heart clenched immediately. Ricky's here? He looked up, and there they were, standing in front of you, holding a bag of takeout with a bright, beaming smile. Ricky was undeniably attractive—tall, fit, with an effortless style that made them stand out. Spencer’s stomach twisted with jealousy the moment he laid eyes on them. He couldn’t help but notice how perfect Ricky looked standing beside you, the two of you fitting together in a way that felt both natural and unfairly harmonious.

You smiled warmly, standing up to greet Ricky, the happiness evident in your eyes. It was a look Spencer hadn’t seen in a long time, and the sight of it—of how they made you feel—tore him apart inside. Ricky leaned in to kiss your cheek, their affection for you clear as day.

“I brought you lunch,” Ricky said, holding up the bag. “Figured you could use a break.”

You laughed softly, looking at them like they had just handed you a treasure. “You’re the best. Thank you.”

Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off the interaction, though he desperately wanted to look away. His mind was screaming at him to stop torturing himself, but his body refused to move. The way you smiled at Ricky, the ease with which you stood close to them—it all felt like a punch to the gut. Spencer could practically feel the walls closing in on him, his insecurities clawing at his insides.

He hadn’t expected this. He wasn’t prepared to see how good the two of you looked together, how happy you seemed. The rational part of him knew it wasn’t fair to be upset; you deserved happiness, and Ricky clearly made you happy. But the irrational, jealous part of him—the part that still wanted you—was screaming at the injustice of it all.

Before Spencer could even think about leaving, you spotted him.

“Spencer!” you called out, waving him over. “Come say hi.”

He froze for a split second, forcing himself to stand up and walk toward you. Every step felt heavier, like wading through quicksand. When he reached you, he tried to keep his expression neutral, but his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Hi,” Spencer said, his voice a little tight but polite. His eyes flicked between you and Ricky, trying to hide the jealousy swirling in his gut.

Ricky smiled warmly, extending a hand. “You must be Spencer. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Spencer shook their hand, feeling a twinge of resentment bubbling up inside him. “Yeah, nice to meet you,” he replied, his tone short, though he didn’t mean it to be. He quickly released Ricky’s hand, feeling like his skin was burning from the contact. His mind was spinning, trying to process how calm and put together Ricky seemed, compared to the storm raging inside him.

“I brought Y/N some lunch,” Ricky said, smiling again, glancing over at you with such ease and affection. “Thought she might be too busy to grab something.”

Spencer nodded, his mouth dry. “That’s... thoughtful,” he said, though it took effort to get the words out. The thought of Ricky being so caring, so attentive, made his chest tighten painfully. That used to be his role—being there for you, knowing when you needed support.

The three of you stood there for a moment, the awkwardness thick in the air—at least for Spencer. You, however, seemed blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil, still smiling brightly at Ricky, completely comfortable in their presence.

“Well, I’ll let you two enjoy your lunch,” Spencer said quickly, his throat tight. He couldn’t stand to watch any more of this. He gave a stiff nod and turned to head back to his desk, but not before catching a glimpse of the two of you exchanging a look—one that felt intimate, full of unspoken affection. It was the kind of look that made his heart feel like it was cracking open.

As he sat back down at his desk, Spencer’s mind raced, replaying the image of you with Ricky. They were everything Spencer wasn’t—confident, calm, and seemingly perfect for you. He had hoped that his efforts to rebuild trust, to show you that he cared, would be enough. But seeing you with Ricky made him realize just how far away that possibility felt. 

Inside, Spencer was dying. His jealousy clawed at him, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on his work, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Ricky. About how happy you looked. About how he had missed his chance.

—

It all came to a head during a case that had gone from bad to worse. You and Spencer had been assigned together, and from the moment you found yourselves alone, the tension between you was palpable. Every word exchanged was brief, clipped, and filled with the renewed weight of what had been left unsaid for months. The entire team had been tracking a dangerous and unpredictable unsub, one who had managed to evade capture for days despite the best efforts of the BAU. He was intelligent, calculating, and every lead you followed seemed to lead you into another dead end, tightening the pressure on all of you.

The unsub had taken a particular interest in his victims, following them for days, learning their routines, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had shown a pattern of escalating violence, and you all knew it was only a matter of time before he found his next victim. The team had been working around the clock, exhausted and on edge, but now things were spiraling out of control.

Late into the evening, a tip came through—an address tied to one of the unsub’s known aliases. You and Spencer were dispatched to check it out, sent ahead while the rest of the team secured other locations. The drive there had been silent, neither of you wanting to broach the thick tension hanging in the air. 

The house was isolated, sitting at the end of a long dirt road, and as soon as you arrived, you could sense something was wrong. The place was eerily quiet, too quiet. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and instinctively, you and Spencer exchanged a tense glance, wordlessly communicating the same thought: This feels like a trap.

The two of you moved cautiously, guns drawn, as you entered the darkened house. Every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet seemed to echo in the oppressive silence, heightening the anxiety already clawing at your insides. Spencer stayed close behind you, the tension between you morphing into something different—something focused and sharp. You both knew you had to rely on each other now, no matter what had passed between you before.

The house was a maze of narrow hallways and closed doors, each one a potential danger. The unsub could be anywhere, lying in wait, ready to strike. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you approached the last room on the second floor. A faint sound caught your attention—a shuffle, like someone moving inside.

You nodded to Spencer, your breath quickening as you prepared to breach the door. He gave you a tight nod in return, his eyes never leaving yours. In that moment, despite everything that had gone unsaid, you trusted him completely. There was no room for the emotional wreckage between you, not here, not now. It was just you and Spencer, partners in the field, as it had always been.

You kicked the door in, gun raised, ready for whatever was waiting on the other side.

The room was empty.

For a split second, relief washed over you—until you heard it. A creak behind you. The unsub had been hiding, waiting, and before you could turn, you were slammed into the wall with a force that knocked the wind out of you. Your gun clattered to the ground as you struggled to regain your footing, your vision swimming.

Spencer reacted instantly, lunging toward the unsub, but the man was fast—too fast. He shoved Spencer back, sending him crashing into a table, and you could hear the wood splinter as Spencer groaned in pain.

Then shots were fired, the deafening cracks of gunfire ringing through the warehouse as adrenaline surged through your body. The world seemed to slow down in that moment, every sound and movement heightened, as you and Spencer dove for cover. Your feet barely touched the ground before you felt it—a sharp, searing pain tearing through your arm, hot and immediate. A bullet had grazed you, cutting through flesh, sending a shockwave of agony radiating down to your fingertips. You gasped, stumbling, the sudden pain momentarily overwhelming you.

"Y/N!" Spencer’s voice cut through the chaos, filled with raw panic as he reached for you, his hands grabbing your jacket and pulling you behind a stack of crates. His grip was urgent but gentle, protective as he maneuvered you out of the line of fire. 

Your vision blurred for a moment, the pain in your arm throbbing in sync with your rapid heartbeat. You pressed your hand to the wound instinctively, trying to stop the blood that was already starting to soak through your sleeve. It wasn’t deep, but it hurt like hell.

Spencer was crouched beside you, his body practically pressed against yours as he shielded you from any further shots. His eyes, wide with fear, flickered down to your arm. His hands hovered over you, trembling slightly, unsure where to touch without hurting you more. 

"You're bleeding," he muttered, his voice thick with worry as he gingerly pushed your sleeve up to get a better look at the wound. His face was pale, his jaw clenched tightly as he surveyed the damage. 

“I’m fine,” you managed to grit out, even though your arm was screaming in pain. You could see the fear in his eyes, how he was barely holding it together. 

“You’re not fine,” Spencer insisted, his voice a low whisper as he pressed his hand firmly over your wound, trying to stop the bleeding. His hand was warm against your cold skin, grounding you in the chaos. “You’re losing blood,” he added, his tone betraying the panic he was trying so hard to keep at bay.

For a moment, everything else seemed to fade—the gunfire, the danger, the chaos surrounding you. It was just you and Spencer, his eyes locked on yours, his fear for you palpable. You had seen Spencer like this before, always worrying about others, but this was different. This was more than just concern for a partner in the field. This was desperation, a kind of fear you hadn’t seen in him before—like he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.

His breath was shaky as he applied more pressure to your arm, his focus completely on you. “Stay with me, okay?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotions he was trying to hold back.

“I’m fine, Spencer,” you whispered, trying to smile through the pain, though it came out more like a grimace. 

But Spencer didn’t smile back. He was too focused, too panicked. His fingers pressed into your wound, his movements methodical, yet you could see how much this was affecting him. Every time you winced in pain, his face tightened, like he was the one being hurt. 

“We need to get out of here,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the room for an exit, for any sign of the unsub. The weight of his words hung in the air, but even more than that was the unspoken fear—he wasn’t just scared for your life. He was scared for the things that hadn’t been said between you, for the way things had been left unresolved.

But right now, it wasn’t the time to deal with the emotional storm brewing between the two of you. The only thing that mattered was getting out alive.

“I can’t lose you,” Spencer whispered, almost too softly for you to hear.

You blinked, confused, the pain in your arm momentarily forgotten. “What?”

“I can’t lose you,” he repeated, louder this time, his voice trembling. His eyes met yours, filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I love you.”

The confession hit you like a blow, the words settling into your chest, heavy and painful. This wasn’t the time for this—not now, not with the unsub hunting you both down, not after everything. But the rawness in his voice, the fear in his eyes—it was undeniable. Spencer was terrified, not just of the unsub but of losing you. And not just as a friend, but as something more.

“You can’t be serious,” you hissed, anger flaring inside you despite the circumstances. 

He looked pained, as if this hurt him just as much as it had hurt you. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, that I’d mess everything up. Please, Y/N, I—”

“You don’t get to do this now!” you cut him off, the frustration boiling over. “You don’t get to confess your feelings when you know I’ve moved on, just because you suddenly realized you want me!”

Spencer’s face fell, guilt and desperation swirling in his eyes. “I know it’s unfair. I know I messed up, but I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t stand seeing you with someone else. Please, Y/N, just—”

“Why?” you shouted, your voice breaking as you fought through the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface for so long. “Why now? Why did you reject me in the first place if you felt this way?”

The pain in your voice seemed to hit him hard, and for a moment, Spencer was silent, struggling to find the words. “I was scared,” he finally admitted, his voice trembling. “I was scared of ruining what we had, scared that I wasn’t enough. I thought pushing you away would be better for you. But it wasn’t. I know that now.”

Tears stung at your eyes, the hurt and anger you’d buried for months now bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get to decide what’s better for me, Spencer. You don’t get to push me away and then pull me back when it’s convenient for you.”

Spencer’s voice cracked, his desperation clear. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I love you. I need you. Please, Y/N, leave Ricky. Give me another chance. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the raw sincerity in Spencer’s voice and the betrayal you still felt. You couldn’t deny that part of you still loved him. You had never stopped. But how was any of this fair? How could he expect you to just walk away from someone who had treated you with the respect and care Spencer hadn’t given you when you needed it most?

Before you could respond, the unsub’s footsteps grew closer, and the immediate danger snapped you both back to reality. There wasn’t time for this—there wasn’t time to unravel the mess of emotions that Spencer had just dumped into your lap. You had to survive this first.

The footsteps had stopped, and the sudden silence was deafening. It was too quiet, the kind of stillness that set your nerves on edge, making you hyper-aware of every creak and distant noise in the warehouse. You tried to focus through the pain in your arm, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as you pressed your back against the crates. Spencer was beside you, but his back was turned, his focus drawn away as the weight of everything between you became too much for him to handle in that moment.

You were about to say something, when suddenly a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Before you could react, the unsub yanked you to your feet, pulling you backward with a force that made your body jerk violently. The pain in your arm shot through you, but the fear was stronger. You struggled to breathe, your heart hammering in your chest as the unsub dragged you back into the shadows, his hand tight around your mouth, muffling any sound you could make.

Spencer didn’t notice. His mind had been racing, consumed by the danger you were in, by how much harder it had become to even look at you knowing how badly he had hurt you. He had turned away for just a second—just a second—and that’s all it had taken. You were gone before he could register the absence of your presence, before he could feel the shift in the air.

You thrashed against the unsub, your hands clawing at his arm as he pulled you further away, deeper into the warehouse, but he was too strong. His grip tightened around your face, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "Make one sound, and I’ll kill him first.”

Your blood ran cold. You knew he meant Spencer.

You stopped struggling, your breath coming out in shallow, panicked gasps, your mind racing as you tried to figure out a way out of this. You couldn’t let Spencer get hurt because of you. You couldn’t let this man take you away without a fight, but the threat was clear. One wrong move, one wrong sound, and it wouldn’t be just your life at risk.

But then Spencer turned back. He had been about to say something—ask if you were ready to move—but when he glanced over and saw that your spot beside him was empty, his heart stopped.

"Y/N?" His voice came out in a panic, eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any sign of you. It was too quiet, and the stillness of your absence sent his stomach into a free fall.

"Y/N!" Spencer shouted, his voice rising in fear, echoing off the walls. His heart raced as he spun in circles, desperately trying to figure out what had happened. The adrenaline from earlier flooded back, stronger now, sharp and cold. How had he let this happen? How had he let you get taken right in front of him?

He rushed forward, frantic, his mind clouded with the worst possibilities. Every second that passed felt like an eternity. The thought of you in the unsub’s grip, hurt, taken—gone—was unbearable. Spencer couldn’t breathe. His chest constricted with fear, and the guilt, the crushing weight of his failure, suffocated him.

"Y/N!" he called again, his voice breaking as he stumbled forward, every nerve in his body alight with desperation. He had let you slip away. He had failed to protect you. And now he was losing you—not just emotionally, but physically.

Spencer’s eyes scanned the dark warehouse, heart hammering in his chest, until he finally spotted the unsub, gripping you tightly, his hand still covering your mouth. Your eyes were wide with fear, but when they locked with Spencer’s, he saw more than just fear. He saw helplessness, anger, and beneath all of it, trust. You were trusting him to get you out of this.

“Let her go!” Spencer shouted, his voice shaking but resolute. His gun was raised, aimed directly at the unsub, but his mind was racing, terrified of making one wrong move that could put you in even more danger. The unsub shifted behind you, pulling you tighter against his body, using you as a shield. 

"You think I’ll just let her go? You think I’m that stupid?" the unsub snarled, his voice thick with menace.

Spencer’s throat tightened. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to act, to do something, but the unsub had you, and one wrong move could end everything. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen.

"Take me instead!" Spencer suddenly blurted out, his voice desperate but filled with determination. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, his heart pounding in his chest. "Just... take me. Let her go, and I’ll come with you. You want leverage? Take me, not her."

Your eyes widened in shock, the pain in your arm forgotten as the weight of Spencer’s words hit you. He was offering himself, offering his life—for you. The unsub hesitated, clearly surprised by the sudden offer. He loosened his grip on you just slightly, his eyes flickering with consideration as he looked between you and Spencer.

"You think I’m going to fall for that?" the unsub growled, though you could feel his grip faltering as Spencer’s words sunk in.

But Spencer didn’t back down. He stepped forward, lowering his gun, his expression resolute. "I’m unarmed," he said, his voice steady despite the terror coursing through him. "You want to get out of here? Take me with you. Let her go."

Your heart pounded as you watched Spencer put himself in danger, his life on the line, all for you. Tears stung at your eyes, emotions swirling inside you—fear, anger, and above all, a deep, overwhelming sense of love. 

The unsub shoved you forward slightly, his grip loosening enough for you to gasp for air, but he still kept his arm tightly around your waist, the threat still lingering. Spencer’s eyes stayed locked on yours, silently promising that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

Just as the unsub’s grip tightened again, a gun raised to Spencer, the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. The team burst in, guns drawn, and before the unsub could react, they took him down in a hail of bullets. The unsub crumpled to the ground, his grip on you finally releasing.

You stumbled forward, breathless, your arm burning with pain. The world spun for a moment, the chaos of the situation hitting you all at once. But then, Spencer was there. He was at your side in an instant, his hands on your shoulders, his eyes scanning you for injuries, his expression wild with fear and relief.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he looked you over, his hands shaking slightly. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You could barely process the words. The adrenaline was still pumping through your veins, and the weight of what had just happened—what Spencer had just done for you—was crashing down around you. He had offered himself up, put his life on the line without hesitation, all to save yours.

"I'm... I'm okay," you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked into his eyes. There was so much you wanted to say, but the words were stuck in your throat, tangled with the emotions swirling inside you. 

Spencer’s face was pale, his breaths uneven, but the way he looked at you was filled with nothing but relief. And in that moment, standing there with him in the aftermath of everything, you realized just how much you still loved him. How much you had always loved him. It was undeniable, impossible to ignore anymore.

Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, holding him close despite the pain in your arm. "Thank you," you whispered against his chest, your voice breaking with emotion. "You could’ve been killed, Spencer."

Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him, as if letting you go might mean losing you again. His voice was hoarse, filled with the same raw emotion. "I couldn’t let him take you. I couldn’t lose you."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. "Spencer, you... you put yourself in danger. For me. I don’t understand... after everything, why would you—"

“Because I love you,” Spencer interrupted, his voice soft but firm. His eyes locked onto yours, no more hesitation, no more fear. “I’ve always loved you. And I was an idiot to ever push you away. I didn’t deserve you then, and I probably don’t deserve you now, but I couldn’t just stand by and watch you get hurt. I couldn’t... I can’t live without you.”

The raw sincerity in his voice left you breathless. Everything you had been feeling, all the hurt, the love, the anger, bubbled up inside you. But in that moment, as you stared into Spencer’s eyes, all you could feel was the overwhelming love you still had for him. 

You reached up, cupping his face with your good hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "I still love you, Spencer. But you broke my heart. How is any of this fair?"

Spencer’s eyes filled with regret, his hands holding yours tightly. “I know. I know I hurt you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me. But please... don’t go back to Ricky. Don’t let this be the end for us. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just... give me a second chance.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the love you still had for him and the fear of being hurt again. But as you stood there, Spencer’s arms wrapped around you, you realized that you had already made your choice.

With a deep breath, you whispered, “We’ll figure it out. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off easy.” 

Spencer’s face softened with relief, a small, shaky smile tugging at his lips. "I wouldn’t expect anything less." 

And in that moment, despite the chaos, despite the danger you had just survived, you knew that the two of you would find a way forward—together.

—

Ricky swirled the ice in their glass, chuckling softly as they leaned back in their chair, the dim light of the bar casting shadows over their face. “I still think it’s messed up,” they said with a grin, shaking their head in disbelief.

Derek, sitting across from them, just smirked, taking a slow sip of his beer before setting the glass back down on the table with a quiet clink. “Nah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, completely unbothered. “I knew it would work.”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, their smile widening as they took a sip of their own drink. “You set me up to date her just to push her and Spencer together? That’s some next-level matchmaking, man. I’m surprised you didn’t end up on a bad side of this.”

Derek shrugged casually, his smirk never fading. “I had a feeling it was the push Pretty Boy needed. Y/N and Spencer? They’ve been dancing around each other for too long. I just gave ‘em a little... incentive.”

Ricky laughed, a low, amused sound. “Incentive? You mean you hired your friend to fake date her so she’d realize she was in love with someone else?”

“Hey, I didn’t say fake date,” Derek shot back with a playful grin. “You’re a catch, Ricky. I just knew you’d make her happy enough for Spencer to lose his mind.”

Ricky rolled their eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. “And here I thought I was the rebound.”

“Nah,” Derek said, shaking his head. “You were the wake-up call. Spencer needed to see what he was missing, and you? You helped him get there. Trust me, they’ll thank you for it one day.”

Ricky took another sip, still grinning. “Maybe. But still, man. Messed up.”

Derek just winked, lifting his beer in a mock toast. “To love, manipulation, and getting things done.” 

Ricky clinked their glass with his, shaking their head with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

"That’s why you agreed to it," Derek said with a wide grin, taking another long drink. The audience had no idea, but now the truth was out, revealed in the easy banter between the two friends. It had all been part of the plan—a plan to push you and Spencer together once and for all.

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[ane-doodles]

I refuse to create a new au, let's call it "alternate timeline"

Ok so, this is based on this illustration. They were just thoughts that came into my head while I was coloring. I'm bad at narration and good at lists so bear with me...

We are located in the time just before Narinder discovers/creates/idk the way to revive mortals. He is still the bishop of death with his own cult and there are no problems with the rest of the bishops. I want to add a note: since this is set before the whole betrayal thing here Narinder is portrayed as calmer focused on his own thing.

The lamb (we will call her Avan hehe) is part of the cult of the red crown. She is really interested in everything related to spirits and gods and often gets into trouble because of her curiosity.

One day in particular she decides to follow one of the fireflies/devotion lights through the forest and ends up meeting the bishop of death who, thanks to a convenient breeze, ends up revealing his face by accident.

I don't know what happens in this period of time but the lamb ends up visiting the forest often to meet Narinder until it becomes a kind of habit.

Visits in the forest become common company within the cult as well. Avan receives as a gift the red cord that she uses as a belt to match Narinder (thanks to this other cultists believe that she has ascended to a new position and do not usually bother her with questions)

Avan ends up helping Narinder perfect the resurrection method with the knowledge she has of materials (bones, plants, among others) in addition to providing a different perspective and questions to the god of death. In the end they end up achieving the result that we know in the game. [for the ritual to work the summoner gives a small fragment of his life, since Narinder is immortal this does not affect him in any way]

Here the pre-game events take place: the bishops don't like this, they plan a way to stop what Narinder has started and opt to imprison him in the gateway, but first they must kill him (inspired by this post, go check it out )

So Narinder is killed but he is not immediately chained, but rather the bishops decide to first put an end to the cult (to prevent knowledge about the resurrection from being dispersed). Avan's life is spared because "she seemed to be close to Narinder and his memory should not be forgotten" (me to myself: HA FOOLS! they left alive the only one who really knew the resurrection ritual)

As the massacre takes place, Avan (between terrified and confused) decides to do the resurrection ritual on her own. She takes Narinder's heart and hides deep in the forest.

As Avan is a mortal, the ritual affects her quite a bit (you can see her blackened fingers in a sketch). Narinder is brought back to the world of the living as a demigod, as Avan's mortal life was not enough to bring him back fully.

This is where the story gets a little blurry because my imagination started to run out…

While Narinder fervently desires to take revenge, his powers are truly limited now, and abusing them could kill him and even the lamb. Avan, for her part, prefers to hide at least for a while, scared of the bishops and the idea that they will discover that she was the one who brought Narinder back to life.

How the hell do you hide a cat at least three times your height?

Before the story went totally off track this was supposed to be some sort of Narinder flashback for the CFP Au

I did think about designing a lamb especially for this one, but I prefer to take and adapt Avana, it's more fun and I think the blue suits her well.

Is this a romantic Au? dramatic? Platonic? of friendship? of survival? idk, be creative with your own imagination and enjoy.

[artiststarme]

After the events of Spring Break and long before either of them even consider dating, Steve and Eddie become friends. Eddie shares his weed and buys them alcohol, Steve provides food and a place for Wayne and Eddie to crash for awhile, and Robin kind of freeloads on everything (although she considers her witty one-liners and company payment enough). Even still though, it takes more than just friendship to force Steve to join a DnD campaign. 

With the departure of Grant, Jeff, and Gareth from the Hellfire club, the Party is woefully short on manpower. Will joins and Eleven tries too but even with the addition of their two characters, the Party isn’t strong enough to survive Eddie’s devious campaigns. So they target Steve. Between Eddie’s pleading puppy dog eyes and the endless pestering of the kids, Steve joins. Initially, he’s hesitant. He thinks he’s only going to play a handful of games to get the kids back on their feet before parting with them. But then he discovers that he’s good at it. He discovers that he enjoys flirting with the NPCs and annoying the shit out of his fellow characters. He likes saving the kids and watching their backs in fights all too reminiscent of the Upside Down. It makes him feel useful, needed, wanted. 

Most of all though, he likes seeing how his words affect Eddie. He starts looking forward to  seeing the blank look on Eddie’s face when he does something he’s not expecting, forcing Eddie to dive into the very depths of his imagination. Steve likes seeing Eddie’s lips quirk into a smirk when his flirts land their mark. He imagines kissing the quirk away until those very same lips are bruised red with burst capillaries. He wants to see Eddie’s smile directed at him for every moment of everyday, not just from behind the Dungeon Master’s partition or on a dinner date with Robin. Steve wants to hear Eddie’s husky voice explain his plans for DnD while they cuddle in bed hiding from the cold Indiana winter (although he would never admit something so nerdy to anyone). His thoughts and Eddie’s reactions to his admittedly mediocre flirting only makes Steve like playing DnD with him more. 

He especially enjoys the day when all the flirting finally leads Eddie to corner him once the kids leave to ask him out on a proper date (or in their case, Cheetos and strawberry milkshakes on the roof of Eddie’s van while watching snowflakes fall from frozen clouds). In hindsight, it only made him wish he’d joined the nerdy dragon club sooner. Maybe then he could’ve been kissing Eddie Munson for years by then. Steve guesses he’d just have to keep Eddie around for years to come.

[tofumiarchives]

┊RED LINER┊˚✧

┊ONE SHOT┊MICHAEL KAISER X GN!READER┊

words: 596

unrequested

additional/warnings: ooc(?), cringe, swearing, lots of bickering, Kaiser

erm I think I like Kaiser

I'll work on my blog soon trust (me when I lie)

Sometimes, you really want to throw Kaiser across the room.

“You’re doing it wrong,” his words made you want to mess up on purpose, just so you could hopefully aggravate and annoy the star striker in front of you. 

“Shut up, Kaiser. Stay still,” you murmur under your breath, focusing on the task at hand. You suggested doing the eyeliner shit he regularly wears, all because you were bored without anything to do. Kaiser's reaction? Be an uncooperative ass, even when you offered so graciously to do something for him.

Red ink smoothly flowed out of the eyeliner as you carefully filled in the line. The blond had his eyes closed, head tilted up by your hand while you sat on the surface of the sink's counter. Kaiser didn't know what possessed him to let you do this, but to be honest, he'd let you do whatever if it serves him— as he thinks. It's not an excuse, because that's just pathetic.

You finished the second wing, leaning back to see if it looked even and good enough. Kaiser didn't miss that chance to tilt his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror. And, of course, he had to point out the flaws. “It’s not even,” he points out, stating the not very obvious.

The way you were holding back the urge to smack him in the head should be awarded. “What do you mean? It is. You should get your eyes checked,” you retorted, watching him scrunch up his face and look at you like you just ruined his face. He seemed to always do that. You could almost say he resembled some grumpy cat with the way his expressions look.

“You get your eyes checked,” Kaiser rolled his eyes. “Mine are perfectly alright. Meanwhile, you seem to not notice the minor details. You're really shitty at this,” he complained. Suddenly, you get the urge to remove the translator device in your ear, just so you could stop having to understand his ranting. Maybe you should. Hopefully it irks him.

You gave him a look. It was something between ‘I-regret-doing-this-for-you’ and ‘stop-complaining-you-bastard’. There was a click when you capped the liner, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom, filling up the small glimpse of silence after he spoke. “You know, maybe I should've messed up your liner on purpose.”

“Wow,” he replied, taking the red eyeliner back from you. “What, are you that mad you're bad at this? And, to be honest, I can pull off even your shitty, uneven attempts at doing eyeliner,” there he goes again, always preening like a damn peacock. Shit always flaunts whenever he can get to do so. What makes it worse is that he's actually attractive. 

That's it. You take off the translator provided by Mikage corps, placing the jet black bud on the marble counter. Kaiser raised an eyebrow, picking up on what you just did. Ah, the peace of being able to ignore him. He was frowning. Cute. You should mess with him some more from now on.

“Arschloch,” Kaiser curses you out, while you're blissfully ignoring what he's saying. This is so fun. You can choose not to understand a single shit he's saying right now! 

You point a finger at your ear, not being able to hide the grin etching into your face. “I can't understand you,” you point out, getting an ounce of satisfaction when he rolled his eyes. 

You’re starting to think you should mess around with him even more.

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

[weirdsht]

Helloooo! What if cale has a child that's already few years old, addition to On, Hong and Raon. However, others didn't know that. How will they react to that information?

Miscellaneous Information - Cale & Daughter! Reader

tags: female reader, platonic, reader is 3-years-old, reader is smart, but still has the pronunciation of a baby, reader calls cale "appa", nothing just fluff

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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If there’s one thing Birth of a Hero is good at, it’s giving out unnecessary family information that seems to have no relevance to the plot. One example would be Harol Kodiang actually being born out of love despite him not knowing it. Another would be Witira having a half-whale brother that died before the protagonist could meet the whale tribe.

Kim Rok Soo may not know why such irrelevant pieces of information littered the novel. However, he is grateful for it when he wakes up in Cale Henituse’s body. If it weren’t for it he wouldn’t know about the lout’s hidden daughter.

[Name] Henituse, Cale’s 3-year-old daughter, is something the novel describes as a genius. Her intellect is advanced for her age, she can already speak almost full sentences and can understand concepts normal children her age would not be able to.

It is said that she got her intellect from her father. Usually, Kim Rok Soo would doubt it since Cale was a lout. However, seeing that the drunkard managed to hide the girl under his parent’s noses then he must be pretty smart.

He did it by anonymously hiring servants in the small townhouse he has in the Rain City. The house being named after some make-up merchant.

But it’s not like Kim Rok Soo cared much for the details of how the lout did it. All he knows is that he needs to somehow meet that child for it is now his responsibility. The girl has no one else other than Cale. Her mother died during childbirth and there isn’t any information about her. It isn’t even known if Cale loved her or not.

In other words, it’s up to Kim Rok Soo to take care of that child.

“Appa, you isn’t suppose to be here.”

Red hair that was the same shade as his own greeted him on the day he finally managed to visit the townhouse. [Name] hugged him upon arrival, clearly happy to see him despite saying he wasn’t supposed to be in that place. He admits that his super late in visiting her. However, in his defence, it’s hard to sneak off where the girl lived when the novel didn’t provide the information of how Cale did it before. He only managed to go to the townhouse when he got home after obtaining the Sound of the Wind. 

The girl might be saying he shouldn’t be there but it’s obvious that she welcomes his presence. Her saying it came from a place of concern. She’s smart and understands well that her dad is hiding her. It didn’t seem like she detested him for that though.

“Why is that?”

The novel didn’t really specify why [Name] was hidden. But it did that if she were to be revealed Cale’s parents would’ve accepted her with open arms.

‘He already branded himself as the family disappointment. Why draw the line here?’

Was what Cale thought to himself as he awaited his daughter's answer.

“Silly appa! You fowgot already! It’s because of inwe… inhe… inhewitansus ishwues.”

Cale waited patiently as the toddler tried to pronounce inheritance.

“Inheritance issues? But the Henituse has enough money for one more person?”

“Nu! Not that!”

[Name] slapped her small, chubby hands on Cale’s leg, simultaneously trying to prove a point and asking her dad to pick her up. Cale obliged and carried the girl as they made their way to her room.

“Unkel Bassen!”

“Ah, we don’t want Bassen to have a hard time inheriting the county?”

“Yep! Unkel Bassen is good. You said so! So we want to give him count.”

Everything started to make sense in Cale’s head at the same time they reached the girl’s room. Revealing [Name] would make everyone pity her against Basen. They would say things along the lines of making a child whose mother is of unknown origins who is sure to have the Henituse blood is better suited to be the heir compared to a son who has no ounce of Henituse blood.

However, Cale can’t hide this poor child forever. She has the right to get to know her family and not just live in this simple yet luxurious house.

Plus, if Cale is going to take her with him to Harris Village then an introduction is inevitable.

Creeaaaaaaak

“Kitty! Appa kitty!”

The redhead was startled upon seeing two kittens sitting on [Name]’s light pink couch. There’s a space in between them and Cale is sure it’s because the black dragon is situated there.

“What are you doing here? It’s alright for all of you to be yourselves here, I own the place.”

Cale set his daughter down who then ran to sit on the couch that’s opposite to where the On, Hong, and the now visible black dragon are.

“Dragon! Appa you have a dragon?”

[Name] respectfully kept her distance from the three and sat quietly on the couch. However, anyone looking at her can tell that she wants to pet them.

“We were worried about you nya!”

“You suddenly went outside without telling anyone nya!”

“This great and mighty being wanted to see more of our city but you weren’t there!”

All three children reasoned as they switched from the couch they were sitting on to the couch where [Name] was. They haven’t had any proper introductions yet the four children are already snuggling against each other.

“I went to visit my daughter.”

Cale said nonchalantly as he sat where the three children were sitting before. The three froze at the news. Sure [Name] has the same hair colour as Cale but they haven’t heard anything about him having a biological child!

“Her name is [Name] Henituse. Well, technically she’s not in the family registry so she’s not a Henituse yet but we’re working on that.”

“You’re the human’s child? How come we’ve never heard of you?”

“I’m hidden! A mystery!”

[Name] exclaimed proudly. In her mind, while she knows to some extent being hidden is bad, she takes a lot of pride in doing it for an uncle her dad clearly treasures.

“No one knows of her existence yet. I plan on introducing her to my parents tomorrow.”

Now it was [Name]’s turn to be frozen.

“Me? Intwoduce? But… But… unkel…”

How about Uncle Basen?

Was what she wanted to say but her tears and limited vocabulary prevented her from doing so. She may be smart but she didn’t have many people to talk to, hindering the advancement of her vocabulary. However, her current level of speaking is already great enough considering she’s barely 3-years-old.

“It’ll be fine. Only our family will know so Basen should be fine.”

With Cale currently being renowned as ‘Young Master Silver Shield’ and the upcoming war, revealing he has a child right now would be bad. It would only garner unwanted attention and could put the poor child in danger.

After further introductions, all the children got along swimmingly. The night ended with all five of them sleeping on [Name]’s bed.

The next day the Henituse castle was turned upside-down.

“A child? You’ve been hiding a child from us for 3 years!?”

Deruth couldn’t keep his emotions in check as he looked at the small girl in his son’s arms.

“It happened to be that way.”

Cale could see his father pinch the bridge of his nose, stressed about the entire situation. The redhead can understand, a baby all of a sudden can be quite stressful.

“Why did you not inform us until now?”

Violan inquired after ordering the servants to prepare the necessary measures needed to accommodate a child. Such as tailors, carpenters, tutors, and so on.

“At first I wanted for the child to live a quiet life, but since the war is practically confirmed…”

The safest place for this child would be under the watchful eye of the Henituse family. It also doesn’t help that Cale will be gone often until he can get his slacker life. As much as he’d want to take [Name] with him, he knows he’d be putting the child’s life in danger. Unlike the other kids, his daughter doesn’t have any special abilities. Sure she’s smart, but it won’t do anything against enemies that would like to take her life.

Cale explains [Name]’s background to his parents. Tells them about how she has no one else aside from him. He also promised them that he’d take care of her himself. Cale just needed for them to know of her existence in case something happened.

Of course, his parents took it the wrong way even though Cale just meant that it was in case he came home later than expected.

“Don’t say such nonsense. We are the child’s grandparents. We’d take care of her whenever you are gone.”

Violan waved her hands to emphasise how it was no big deal.

“Ganpawents..?”

“Yes dear, I’m your grandpa.”

The count greeted warmly as he took [Name] into his arms.

“Ganpa!”

And so the family introduction started.

First was Cale’s parents of course. Who insisted on being called grandma and grandpa. They were already spoiling the girl and it hadn’t been an hour since she was introduced.

Next was the siblings. Both of them were flabbergasted at the news but seemed to be welcoming towards the child.

“Unkel Basen!”

Basen in particular seemed to blush whenever he called uncle.

And then finally it was time to meet Cale’s people.

“This is Beacrox, he cooks delicious food.”

“Beerox..?”

“Close enough, I’m sure you’ll get it right with time.”

“Beerox!”

The chef has his usual poker face on but people who know him can tell that his close to having another headache. Cale already made him take care of 10 wolf children, and now he has a daughter on top of it…

Of course, Beacrox didn’t say anything and just continued cooking. He’ll let his father do the passive-aggressive scolding once he comes back.

“All this time–! Our young master silver shield– he–! He has a child!?”

“Oh my, the new young master looks cute. This deputy butler Hans will surely take good care of you!”

“Appa this people weird.”

The 3-year-old complained as she buried her face on Cale’s shoulder.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Cale had no explanation as to why the servants that followed him acted in such ways. So he could only assure his child that she’ll get used to it as time passes.

…Well at least he hopes that would be the case.

Bonus:

“Let’s hurry, you need to get well fast. [Name] is excited to meet you.”

Ron glanced at Cale with a confused glance. He does not know who that is. Deruth made sure they wouldn’t cross paths for such a bloody scene would be traumatizing for the baby.

“My daughter.”

Cale did not say anything else and merely stepped out of the room to prepare for their departure towards Hais Islands.

Meanwhile, Ron’s pain was overcome by confusion for a moment.

“He has a child?”

The assassin asked his son.

“Apparently so. She’s currently 3-years-old.”

“Ho?”

Now Ron definitely has to survive. He needs to meet his puppy young master’s puppy.

Maybe even scold the redhead a bit for hiding such a thing from the man who changed his diapers for so long.

[soapyghostie]

Hey! Can I request Bubba sawyer x reader where the reader is pregnant with bubba’s child and how the family (brothers and grandpa) would react to it and what they’d do (especially if the reader had been in the family for years and all love her very much, in their own ways).

I’ve been working on this request for so long since I had to put it aside for schoolwork. However, I had sometime to finish writing it so I did so I could post it. Hope you enjoy!

Bubba Sawyer

When you first announce your pregnancy to Bubba, his face lights up with excitement and joy. He’s jumping up and down, squealing happily. He’ll give you a big hug too. The hug is not as tight as Bubba’s normal hugs are so as to not hurt the baby. But God! He’s just so excited to become a father to your child! 

Although excited, internally Bubba is hiding his nervousness about becoming a father. He wants to be able to provide for you and y’all’s unborn child, but he worries about his abilities as a parent. If you notice his nervousness through his body language, please reassure him. He needs a lot of reassurance from you that he’ll be a good father to y’all’s child. 

Bubba’s protective instincts will kick in upon learning about the pregnancy. He becomes more vigilant, ensuring your safety within the Sawyer family home. He can’t be by your side 24/7 because he has chores and provides ‘meat’ for the family so he has you stay inside the house throughout the day when victims are around. It is the safest place for you to be. 

Bubba always cherishes quiet moments with you, as it’s often chaotic in the Sawyer household, often placing his hand gently on your stomach to feel the child’s moments. 

Bubba is always at your beck-and-call, getting you whatever you want or need. Snacks? Water? Foot massage? Whatever you ask for Bubba will get it for you! He’ll make sure that you're always comfortable. He grunts and nods conveying his love and concern as his way of making sure you’re alright. 

Drayton sees the pregnancy as an opportunity to expand the Sawyer family and continue the family legacy. He’s eager to welcome another member into the fold and spoils you with his cooking a lot. You gotta feed the baby, even before it’s born, so it becomes big and strong. 

Nubbins is ecstatic about becoming an uncle. He’ll get in your face and bombard you with questions about the baby names and nursery decorations, his enthusiasm is infectious. He’ll even help decorate the baby’s room too!

ChopTop, in his usual eccentric manner, jokes about being your baby’s quirky uncle. He’ll pepper you with offbeat parenting advice, much to you and Bubba’s amusement. Don’t even listen to him. He doesn’t even know what the heck he’s talking about. 

Grandpa Sawyer, though most of the time silent, will offer you quiet words of wisdom and true parenting advice (not any of ChopTop’s bullshit), imparting lessons learned from generations of Sawyers. 

Despite their unconventional lifestyle, the Sawyer family works to create a nurturing environment for you and the unborn child. They all eagerly await the new addition and with their help you and Bubba prepare for parenthood. 

The family loves to shower you with gifts for the baby, each item reflecting each family member's unique personalities and interests. Some of them are “interesting” if I do say so myself. What I mean by that is that you are really questioning about keeping some of the gifts, especially the ones from Nubbins and ChopTop. However, you do get gifts such as handmade toys and small clothes for the baby.  

You and Bubba will bond over the anticipation of parenthood. Y’all discuss a lot about y’all’s hopes and dreams for y’all’s child as y’all lay in bed, drifting off to sleep. Y’all share your dreams about being future parents, envisioning a life filled with love and laughter even though y’all don’t have the best or the brightest life (if you know what I mean since the Sawyers are technically cannibals that are always on the run).

Y’all would also bond over preparing the nursery for the baby’s arrival. You would put up the decorations, since it’s the easiest thing to do, and Bubba will try his best to create a crib. He’s not the best at carpentry, but he knows enough to get by and make a decent and stable one. 

As y’all wait for the baby’s arrival, you and Bubba embark on a new chapter together. Despite the uncertainty of y’all’s circumstances, you both find solace in the bond y’all share and the love that binds y’all together to y’all’s peculiar family.

[acapelladitty]

`♡° kinktober 2024! ---

☆ kink: costume sex

☆ pairing: Year One Scarecrow/Reader

☆ summary: Arriving at a Halloween party to score some drugs for his experiments, Jonathan Crane finds himself in quite the compromising position as he's pulled into a supply closet.

kinktober '24 ☆ main masterlist ☆ ao3

Surveying the gaggle of college students as they drunkenly stumbled around in costumes which bordered on utterly indecent made Crane appreciate that his own college days were much less degrading as he had concentrated his focus on his many studies and interests. The sorority housing was not too dire, a direct yearly contribution from the Wayne Foundation ensuring cheap accommodation for prospective students as they maintained their studies.

It was a luxury he himself was never afforded and one which sparked only a little resentment as he pulled the cheap burlap mask which covered most of his features tighter to his face and slipped within the front door.

Necessity had forced him here, forced him into an illicit meeting with a known drug dealer who lived on campus in order to score some ecstasy for one of his private experiments. The boy in question was not one of his own students but he had an awareness of him from complaints which others had made in their shared staff room.

He had used an alias, of course. He had chosen a name designed to ensure that the young man would never know that he was selling drugs to one of the strictest professors on campus and the additional use of Halloween night as a meet time had been necessary to provide him with an alibi for hiding his identity through the use of a costume.

A cheap and simple Scarecrow costume, purchased from a local store.

The irony was not lost on him.

“Hey! C’mere? I need help.”

As far as his dealings went, his exchange with the boy was painless and he emerged from the upper bedroom with his secured ecstasy in less then two minutes. All that remained was to weave past the throngs of drunkards and then he would be free to return to his office and pick up some last minute papers to take home to his apartment.

His musings were cut short as he found his path blocked by a young woman, her hands splayed wide on her hips to prevent him from walking around her.

Her loud voice attracting the attention of several partygoers, Crane scowled beneath his mask as he found himself forced into helping her to avoid further attention. She was dressed as a devil; the majority of her costume being limited to a sheer and very short red gown which was hemmed with cheap feathers. Red thigh-high tights and devil horns completed the ensemble and, despite himself, Crane felt a twinge of arousal at her state of dress.

A fuller figure than many of the other girls who flittered about in various states of undress, her ample chest filled the gown beautifully and he couldn’t help but glance down at it, the skin there looking soft and warm to the touch.

Grabbing at his hand, he allowed her to lead him through the corridor until they reached a door. Pushing it open, she revealed a fairly small laundry closet which housed two sets of shelves which were filled with various towels and replacement beddings – the space between the shelves only enough to house maybe two people as they folded and ordered the items within.

Only now truly realising the situation he had allowed himself to be placed in as her intentions hit him like a truck, Jonathan felt a swell of panic in his chest – the feeling so unfamiliar that it also sparked cold embarrassment that he was thankful for his mask to hide it away.

Shutting the door behind them quietly as Jonathan gazed at the bare, hanging lightbulb which sat perfectly at his eye level, the girl giggled quietly as she turned in place with her back to the door.

“You’re very tall. I like that,” she muttered, reaching her hand out to place it on his chest and glance up at him with fluttering eyelashes.

“I am.” Jonathan replied, a little pathetically as his panicking mind couldn’t think of something more interesting to say. Glancing at the door behind her, he could see his escape as clear as day and the ecstasy which sat in his back pocket felt as though it was burning against his skin as he plotted out how to leave without drawing more attention to himself.

“I really like that. When I saw you walking past in this silly costume I couldn’t help but want to drag you away and see if it’s true what they say about tall guys.”

Bold as brass, her fingers dropped to his thighs and massaged the fabric there – her chest jiggling with deliberate intent as she pawed at him.

Concealing his voice as best he could as he added an unfamiliar lilt to his words, Jonathan splayed his fingers on her upper chest as he ignored the definite twitch of his dick at her boldness and kept her at a safe distance.

“I am old enough to be your father.”

“Are you?” She purred, placing one of her hands atop his own as she stroked along his fingers, “That’s kinda hot, mystery man. Maybe you could show a poor little girl like me the ropes then, huh? You must have lots of experience.”

She couldn’t have been out of her early twenties, less than half of his age.

He was not a man of impulse.

He was a man of reason and careful consideration.

But as her other hand slipped higher to ghost along his half-hard cock with a firm determination, her expression wicked in its innocence as she glanced up at him and pressed her chest to his own, Jonathan supposed that a little holiday indulgence wouldn’t kill him.

Bolstered by his anonymity, Jonathan slipped his hands within the cups of her costume and pulled her tits free to hang in the warm air. She gasped at the feel of his cold fingers and responded immediately as her hands slipped higher to pull at the waistband of his slacks, unzipping them and pulling his cock free with a giggle.

“Wow, you really are older than me.”

Glancing down through the holes in his mask, a slight irritation at her words flushed through his chest and he responded by pushing at her shoulders roughly – forcing her to drop to her knees and work at his cock. A task which she took to with immediate enthusiasm as she wrapped her lips around his cockhead, her tongue warm and so deliciously wet that his hands gripped into a nearby shelf as he fought the urge to fuck himself into her mouth.

Jonathan groaned as he leaned against the shelf, enough to allow him to crane his neck down and watch her as she sucked him off. With one hand wrapped around his outer thigh to steady herself, her other hand had disappeared between her legs as she pleasured and prepped herself for his cock. A boldness which snatched the breath from his lungs as he pushed into her mouth and tried to steady his breathing.

“Do you want to fuck me?” She asked, her sweet voice a little hoarse from her previous partying.

Wordlessly, he pulled her to her feet and spun her in place, her tits bouncing at the swift movement as he pressed his body against her own. Her chest pushing into the nearby shelving unit, Jonathan slipped one hand beneath the hem of her ‘dress’ and groaned into her neck as his fingers quickly sank themselves into the wet warmth of her cunt.

She had prepped herself well, it seemed.

Panting and grinding her ass into his cock, the bold little devil that had ensnared him mewled something about being ready and Jonathan fisted his hand along his cock – feeling the drying saliva of her messy blowjob – as he lined himself up against her hole. The height difference was impressive and it forced his legs to spread a little wider than he was comfortable with to allow him to line up correctly before slamming his hips against her ass.

He greeted her with a quick, brutal intrusion and he growled as she buried her pleasurable scream into the flesh of her forearm – her cunt wrapping around his cock like a glove. Almost painfully tight, but so fucking good that he momentarily lost himself in just how nice she felt.

It was a mess of a fuck. The tiny closet leaving no room for anything outside of sloppy thrusts which she seems to appreciate as her theatrical grunts and moans spur him on to fuck her with a greater ferocity, the adrenaline of the encounter giving him a stamina that he didn’t want to waste.

She was just as enthusiastic in her movements; her plump body pushing back on him in such a way that he found himself having to slam one hand against the nearby door to steady himself as his other hand wrapped around her waist to pull her against him. Her nails dug into the back of his hand and he hissed as she pulled his hand free to instead drag it up to her chest – forcing him to delve his fingers within the cup of her gown and squeeze at her breast.

Her warmth and the way that her soft skin filled his hand made him groan and he picked up the pace of his sloppy thrusts as he adjusted his fingers enough to pinch at her hardened nubs. A move that made her keen out something messy as her walls squeezed his cock in kind.

His release caught him a little by surprise, the franticness of their movements making his balls tighten and his cock jerk in warning as he quickly pulled free of her cunt – instead plastering her ass with his release as he grunted like an animal and his knees shook dangerously. Groaning in disappointment, his little devil didn’t hesitate to grind her ass into his cock, encouraging him to keep going.

“I’m close, c’mon guy, just a little more-”

Catching his breath, Jonathan complied with her wishes and slipped his free hand up between her thighs as he jerkily shoved two fingers within her dripping cunt; his arm angled in such a way that he left his thumb free to press against her clit and get her to her own release. Again, given how wet her cunt already was, he wasn’t too surprised when her little moans increased in pitch and her slit ground hard against his hand as she came.

Not bothering to hide her whimpered cries, a slight worry entered Jonathan’s mind as he imagined some passerby overhearing her and so he tilted her body slightly further away from the door – allowing her to ride out her high on his hand as he fumbled with tucking away his own cock.

Both satisfied, they collectively took a moment to compose themselves as the scent of sex and cheap perfume hung heavy in the air between them. Still a little shell-shocked from how his evening had developed, Jonathan allowed her a gentlemanly moment to right herself and her outfit as he patiently awaited for her to make the first move.

“That was great.” She giggled with a very flushed expression, her hands pulling free a nearby cloth to wipe the mess from between her thighs. Using a shelf to steady her body, she gathered her mess and wrapped the cloth carefully to be dropped in the nearest bin. “So, can I see the face of my mystery man?” She asked, her hand creeping towards his mask.

Panic seizing him once more at the thought of the scandal his identity would spark, Jonathan snatched her wrist in a firm grip as he lowered her hand back to her side, “Some things are better left a mystery, little devil.”

“Little devil? That’s also kinda hot. You sure I can’t have your number, baby?”

Baby.

Absolutely not.

“No.”

“Oh, well,” she shrugged, adjusting her devil horns as she smoothed out the front of her costume, “I guess I’ll catch you later then.”

And with that she tugged the door to the closet open, allowing the rancid beat of whatever hellish music they had moved on to playing to pulse within, before slamming the door shut behind her and disappearing just as quickly as she had appeared.

Left alone, his cock soft and sated and the shame of his weakness creeping into the cracks of his psyche, Jonathan stood with his hands on his hips as he took a moment to process what the hell had just happened.

[badperson-8]

Butting In (Part 1) Lucifer, Mammon, Levi

Male/AMAB MC finds an intriguing sex toy – a magical fleshlight, which is automatically connected to the body of whoever haunts their sexual fantasies. How will each brother react if MC succumbs to the temptation and uses the device?

amabMC x Lucifer, amabMC x Mammon, amabMC x Levi

3.5k words | NSFW | Porn without plot | gn!pronouns MC | AO3 link

Content Warnings: Dub-con | Anal Sex

Part 2 (Satan, Asmo) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

Lucifer

Lucifer sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He’s been sent to the House of Lords on behalf of Lord Diavolo for a brief check of their quarterly financial report. But what should’ve taken him at most two hours, stretched into several-hours torture, due to the incompetence of these noble fools. The accounting department did their best to analyze and categorize all the expenses, but Lords were so utterly incapable of providing any reasonable data in time that the finished report turned out to be an incoherent mess.

So now Lucifer is stuck in a place full of insufferable snobs, damned to do their job instead of them. At least the most excruciating part is over: he had to personally collect all the additional papers from each Lord, and now he only needs to compare the numbers. The demon has already sent all the accountants away; if they didn’t succeed the first time, it’s highly unlikely that they’ll be of any use. Lucifer prefers to work alone anyway.

The only two things that motivate him right now are a huge cup of the strongest coffee ever known to demons and potential revenge. If Lucifer manages to find any traces of financial machinations, Lord Diavolo will take this matter into his own hands. And when he’s on the case, it’s useless to hide behind the high status of a noble. The Future King deals with problems swiftly and mercilessly.

Lucifer smirks, takes a sip of coffee, and focuses on the documents in his hands. The demon occupied the office of one of the Lords after he unceremoniously kicked out the owner. The room has too many golden decorations for Lucifer’s liking, but at least the chair is comfortable enough. The soft rustle of papers and the rhythmical ticking of the clock help him concentrate and ignore intrusive thoughts about one particular human who waits for him at home… Perhaps there are actually three things that motivate Lucifer right now, but his pride will never let him admit it.

A sudden shiver runs along Lucifer’s body, making him twitch and almost spill all the coffee on the documents. The demon immediately lets go of the cup and straightens up, trying to figure out what the hell happened. But Lucifer doesn’t spot anything unusual, only the same ticking of the clock breaks the silence of an empty room.  

The second shiver strikes him just as suddenly. This time it’s stronger, it pierces his mind and makes him grab the edge of the table, looking for support. Lucifer feels the ghost touches on his body, which concentrate on his backside. He unconsciously presses his hips against the seat in an attempt to hide his delicate parts from the unknown intruder. But to no avail. The unstoppable force concentrates on his most vulnerable part of the body, pressing inside and massaging the tensed walls of his entrance.

Lucifer bites his lower lip, trying to contain all the embarrassing noises deep within; a thin stream of blood runs down his chin and lands on one of the documents, staining it and coloring the white pages red. His trembling hand wipes off tiny drops of sweat from his forehead.

The Avatar of Pride is not capable of panicking, as simple as that. He has everything under control, no matter what happens. But now, for the first time in eternity, Lucifer doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and confused; the burning desire to twist the neck of whoever does this to him and the baffling temptation to submit to these new sensations are tearing him apart.

Lucifer chooses the first option, concentrating his magic on the faint traces of the curse that makes him lose control over his body. The demon frowns as he mentally untangles the magical energies and reaches the source of the disturbance.

It’s MC, it’s their life force, their magical energy. Lucifer senses the power of some kind of artifact nearby, but its magic doesn’t look dangerous. The demon sighs, letting his tensed muscles finally relax. He feels an all-consuming relief at the thought of MC being the one who’s behind this. It’s them, they are responsible for all this nonsense. Of course, who else would it be? He should’ve figured it out sooner.  

A gentle pressure on his insides continues, it seems MC doesn’t use the artifact to its full potential yet, preferring to check the toy with their fingers. Lucifer leans back in his chair and spreads his long legs apart. He could fly all the way to the House of Lamentation, confiscate this suspiciously powerful artifact, and lecture them for several hours straight, but…

Lucifer’s line of thought is interrupted by a sudden sensation of some liquid inside him. The demon frowns harder as he feels his cheeks and ears burn with humiliation. He closes his eyes, not to see how his hand unzips his pants and lets out his neglected boner. He doesn’t want to accept this. Lucifer shouldn’t be so agreeable towards the fact that he is being used as a sex toy. Even if it’s MC who does that. Stroking his dick to such foul sensations feels almost like a betrayal of his Pride. He should ignore his urges and…

The touch of a much bigger object feels shocking, no matter how much Lucifer anticipated dreaded the next stage of MC’s curiosity. It feels so much hotter than their fingers; it stretches him open inch by inch without meeting any resistance from Lucifer’s body. He breathes out sharply and tries to stop his hips from trembling. What a disgrace.

Lucifer clenches his fists, stubbornly ignoring his own growing excitement. But despite his efforts, his thighs spread even wider, chasing the feeling of the hot and pulsating flesh, magically conjured to bring Lucifer pleasure. The damn artifact is too good at recreating MC’s dick, too good at imitating all the deep thrusts. The demon can bear this for only so long. He snarls, grabs his dick, and starts stocking it with hungry desperation.

A quiet moan escapes Lucifer’s lips, but he immediately shuts his mouth with his hand, trying to save at least some dignity. The quicker the pushes become, the more difficult it is to contain all the moans. As Lucifer feels MC coming inside him, he bites his hand as hard as possible to muffle the final embarrassing sound. He growls as his fangs pierce his own skin, and his dick finally releases.

It takes him some time to regain his senses. The rhythmical ticking of the clock slowly returns Lucifer to reality. The demon silently stares at the pile of documents, now partially covered not only with his blood but also his sperm. He lifts his trembling hand and snaps his fingers to set the whole pile ablaze.

…They say that after one of the offices in the House of Lords burned down, together with important documents, the whole establishment had to work overtime to restore the lost data. It’s still unknown what exactly happened; some rumors mentioned a black-winged demon flying out of the office’s window in the direction of the House of Lamentation. But the strangest event that surpassed even the fire in one of the core institutions of the Devildom was no doubt the fact that, despite the sudden calamity and overdue financial report, Lucifer was walking around with a huge, bright smile on his face.

Mammon

Mammon is in deep shit. For real this time. He breathes heavily, peeking at five demons from around the corner. He sighs with relief as they march past his hiding spot and lovingly presses a giant bag full of money to his chest.

From Mammon’s perspective, this whole situation is exclusively the fault of these stupid morons. Who the hell keeps their money in cash nowadays?! These idiots were simply begging to rob them. How could Mammon say no? He will use the money better than they ever could anyway. MC was saying something about a new phone…

Mammon quietly swears and squats behind a dumpster, merging with the shadows. One of the demons returned and is now standing uncomfortably close to his hiding spot. Mammon needs to get out of here before they find him. He should make a run for it once the path is clear.

He squats lower, firmly hugging the bag in his hands. And he almost falls on his ass once he feels some kind of movement inside this very ass. Mammon shivers from disgust at the thought that he seems to be infected by damn tapeworms. He knew that a dinner at that shady restaurant was a bad idea. But seriously, how many are there? Or is it one thick-ass worm? It sure feels like it.

Despite his struggles, Mammon does his best to keep an eye on the demon next to him. They seem to have taken a break from the chase and are now simply smoking a cigarette.

Mammon can’t wait for too long, he needs to escape now while he has this chance. It seems he has to use just a little bit of violence. This demon is relaxed and completely unaware of their surroundings; it will be easy to jump them and knock them out within seconds. Gently, of course. Mammon quietly cackles as he slowly approaches the demon, still half-squatting and holding the bag in one hand.

But just as Mammon is ready to commit yet another crime, the fucking worm starts squirming again. The demon quietly moans, then immediately slams his mouth with his hand. The loud slap almost alerts the smoking demon, but they shrug it off.

“Must’ve been the wind.” They mumble, lifting their head and glaring at the stars. The sky is so beautiful today.

Meanwhile, just several feet away from the romantic demon, Mammon is having a mental breakdown. What the hell was that? No, Mammon didn’t just moan thanks to some stupid parasites, it’s a blatant lie. He tosses the bag on the ground and tries to turn his torso backwards to check his butt. It doesn’t help in the slightest since his jeans cover everything, so Mammon can only stare at his ass with disapproval.

His whole body suddenly shivers, making him drop to his knees and close his mouth with a hand once again. He feels something sticky and moist inside. At first, this strange sensation bothered only his asshole, but now it’s spreading deeper, all the way inside…

Mammon blinks away a single tear, trying not to panic. His medical condition is certainly dire, maybe he’s even dying. No, Great Mammon won’t die from some stupid worms, or whatever this is! He’ll find a cure; he just needs to escape first. MC will have to wait for a new phone a little longer, though; it seems that all the money will be spent on Mammon’s medical bills…

A sudden pressure on his asshole sends goosebumps all over Mammon’s body. He has to cover his mouth with his second hand, falling all the way to the ground. He’s now lying on his stomach, trying to regain his senses. Mammon feels something pushing inside him. His legs tremble, losing all their strength. His brain is trying to process everything that is happening but completely gives up once the ass gets attacked by powerful thrusts. Mammon’s erection is pressed uncomfortably to the ground through his jeans. He can’t even change the position, or at least take off his pants, since his body has fully betrayed him. The violent shivers shake Mammon’s body; he spends his last energy keeping his hands close to his mouth. Otherwise, the whole neighborhood will hear his whimpers.

Mammon’s mind is completely shut down, maybe as a way of precaution. At least the poor demon can’t reflect on the whole situation and be terrified of being either hopelessly ill or cursed. He can only focus on deep thrusts that hit his prostate over and over. The only thing that bothers him right now is his dick, still trapped in his jeans. He presses his hips closer to the ground to get at least some friction.

Mammon closes his eyes, breathing heavily into his hands. He’s so close, just a little more…

He’s suddenly being filled with something so hot that it heats up his insides; his ass unconsciously starts to greedily absorb this mysterious substance. Mammon trembles violently as he finally comes all over his pants. His last vocal moans break through the shield of his hands, shattering the surrounding silence.

As Mammon slowly returns to reality, he feels that his ass is now completely fine. He also feels that he is now surrounded by five angry demons who are ready to beat the shit out of him.

…MC is caressing Mammon’s soft hair as the demon complains to them about his rotten luck. He managed to escape in the end, which was a miracle, even with his abilities to run faster than anyone in the Devildom. The demons didn’t succeed in hurting him, but they took all their money back. Mammon doesn’t care that much about the money, though, being much more concerned about the possible disease. And MC just silently pats his hair, gathering their courage to tell Mammon about that one cool thing they found… And how it can actually be responsible for all of today’s misadventures.

Leviathan

Levi is bursting with excitement as he strolls around the comic-con. The amount of merch for all his favorite shows is simply unbelievable; and all the talented cosplayers make him wish he wasn’t such a shut-in otaku. To take a photo with any of them would be like a dream come true, but he’ll reach this major milestone some other time. He already has a huge reason to be proud of himself today.

Few reasons, actually. First of all, he came to this comic-con alone. All alone! Him! That’s right, he doesn’t need to ask Beel or Satan to come with him anymore. He doesn’t need any emotional support to come to this place, full of people… scary strangers… maybe they all think that he’s gross… or he smells bad…

Levi shakes his head, using his personal method of overcoming such anxiety attacks. All he needs to do is imagine MC, who holds him by the hand and smiles brightly at him. Yeah, that’s better. They always do this when he’s about to panic. Levi can’t give up, he promised that he’d have fun on his own.

The demon sighs, wishing MC was here with him. Lucifer forbade them to leave the house after they broke something when they were fooling around with Mammon. Levi frowns: this greedy scumbag always finds a way to mess with him, and now Levi has to spend the day all alone. Mammon ruined their date, and…

No-no-no-no, it wasn’t supposed to be a date, alright?! It WASN’T! Levi just offered MC to come with him, that’s all. He didn’t actually hope… That would be just silly, right?! Right…

Levi shakes his head once again, adjusting his stockings. Heels are not so bad, but these stockings are constantly trying to fall down. Maybe his legs are too skinny for this…

Hm? Oh yeah, that’s actually the second reason why Levi should be proud of himself. When he finally decided to invite MC on a da-… to hang out, he decided to consult with the professional, namely Asmo. He gave him some strange advices, like not eating too much during the day to avoid getting too dirty down “there”. Levi didn’t know where “there” was exactly, but he didn’t have the courage to ask. Other than that, Asmo had some great ideas: he assured Levi that MC would really appreciate it if he showed them his true passion. Specifically, if Levi put on his Ruri-chan costume, with stockings and all.

This idea got him really inspired; Levi spent several days preparing the costume for the show. So when the da-… the hangout was cancelled, he couldn’t just leave the costume at home. So he quickly made a giant sign “No photos, No touching, No interactions”, and came to the comic-con dressed in his pink dress.

Levi has never been prouder of himself. Despite everything, he paid homage to his favorite character. He wishes MC could see him right now…

“Ngh…” Levi winces, almost dropping his sign to the ground. His thighs firmly press together, slightly shaking from a sudden, unknown sensation between them. The demon blushes heavily and sprints to the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls.

He tosses the sign on the floor, lifts his skirt, and tries to inspect the area beneath. Levi did his best to make Ruri-chan’s costume as authentic as possible, which obviously included the right type of underwear. So now the demon carefully gropes his hips, covered with pink silk panties, in search of anything unusual.

His fingers dig into the silky fabric as he feels a strong tremble that concentrates in the area of his butt. He almost tears his underwear with his claws, trying to fight the unexpected weakness in his knees and not fall to the floor.

Levi gathers his strength, reaches the toilet lid, smashes it closed, and lands on it, breathing heavily. He would have never thought that it would be so hard to do such mundane actions, but he feels exhaustion after this little feat. He’s so confused by the riot of his own body that he doesn’t know what to think. Levi feels something slowly pushing inside, stretching him carefully. The only thing that prevents him from starting to seriously freak out is the fact that this unknown force immediately finds his weak spot.

The demon loudly screeches as something starts applying more pressure to his prostate. His dick already peeks out of the pink panties, leaving wet stains on the underwear and the skirt.

“Excuse me? Are you all right?” Someone knocks at the door of Levi’s stall, making him freeze. He squeezes his skirt in frustration as he shakily replies:

“Y-y-yes.”

That’s the best he can do, but luckily the stranger finds this reply passable and leaves him alone. Levi feels as his butt and asshole get covered in something sticky and warm, and he shivers in terror and anticipation. Wait, “anticipation”? No, Levi doesn’t enjoy this insane situation, not at all!

But self-reflection can wait. If the pushes renew, his voice will betray him again. And if this happens, the whole comic-con will hear him, and he certainly can’t let this happen! Levi needs to find something to block all the sounds ASAP. He looks around, trying to find something useful, but there aren’t many things in toilet stalls. Maybe something on him… Oh!

A genius idea graciously visits him. One of the main pieces of Ruri-chan’s clothing is, no doubt, her cute pink hat. Levi mentally apologizes to Ruri-chan for using her iconic hat in that way, takes it off, and shoves it in his mouth.

Just in time for a new stage of thrusts to start. This time they are much more intense. Levi feels how his fangs tear the soft fabric of his precious hat. But his idea mostly works: all his moans and whines are muffled, they are just quiet enough not to alert other people. He grabs his skirt, panties, his own thighs – anything other than his dick. Levi doesn’t want to do it like this. Not in the toilet stall, surrounded by strangers. Not in the Ruri-chan’s dress. Not without MC…

Levi slightly relaxes as his thoughts concentrate on MC. If he imagines that it’s them who inserts their dick inside him, he’ll manage to get through it. His brain successfully tricks itself, almost actually making him believe that it’s MC who is behind this cruel joke. If it’s them, it’s all right, Levi thinks, and allows himself to touch his neglected cock.

He strokes it desperately, focusing on his vivid fantasy of MC. His hole starts pulsating eagerly as he dives into his imagination. Whatever is on the other side must’ve felt how welcoming his hole became; the thrusts get faster and harder, almost making Levi fall from the toilet seat to the floor. He quickens the pace of his strokes to match the impatient pushes, squeezing the hat in his mouth with all his might.

He comes the moment he feels the hot release of an unknown entity inside him. Colorful circles flood his vision, leaving him completely strengthless. He tries to catch his breath, lazily thinking about the ruined costume, especially the pink panties he accidentally tore up. Now he needs to somehow clean up and hurry home, seeking refuge in MC’s arms. He’ll never go to any event without them again.

Part 2 (Satan, Asmo) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

P.S. The art doesn't belong to me, it's an official art from Shall We Date: Obey Me! (You, Me and Devil's Coast card)

[mariacallous]

In early 2020, deepfake expert Henry Ajder uncovered one of the first Telegram bots built to “undress” photos of women using artificial intelligence. At the time, Ajder recalls, the bot had been used to generate more than 100,000 explicit photos—including those of children—and its development marked a “watershed” moment for the horrors deepfakes could create. Since then, deepfakes have become more prevalent, more damaging, and easier to produce.

Now, a WIRED review of Telegram communities involved with the explicit nonconsensual content has identified at least 50 bots that claim to create explicit photos or videos of people with only a couple of clicks. The bots vary in capabilities, with many suggesting they can “remove clothes” from photos while others claim to create images depicting people in various sexual acts.

The 50 bots list more than 4 million “monthly users” combined, according to WIRED's review of the statistics presented by each bot. Two bots listed more than 400,000 monthly users each, while another 14 listed more than 100,000 members each. The findings illustrate how widespread explicit deepfake creation tools have become and reinforce Telegram’s place as one of the most prominent locations where they can be found. However, the snapshot, which largely encompasses English-language bots, is likely a small portion of the overall deepfake bots on Telegram.

“We’re talking about a significant, orders-of-magnitude increase in the number of people who are clearly actively using and creating this kind of content,” Ajder says of the Telegram bots. “It is really concerning that these tools—which are really ruining lives and creating a very nightmarish scenario primarily for young girls and for women—are still so easy to access and to find on the surface web, on one of the biggest apps in the world.”

Explicit nonconsensual deepfake content, which is often referred to as nonconsensual intimate image abuse (NCII), has exploded since it first emerged at the end of 2017, with generative AI advancements helping fuel recent growth. Across the internet, a slurry of “nudify” and “undress” websites sit alongside more sophisticated tools and Telegram bots, and are being used to target thousands of women and girls around the world—from Italy’s prime minister to school girls in South Korea. In one recent survey, a reported 40 percent of US students were aware of deepfakes linked to their K-12 schools in the last year.

The Telegram bots identified by WIRED are supported by at least 25 associated Telegram channels—where people can subscribe to newsfeed-style updates—that have more than 3 million combined members. The Telegram channels alert people about new features provided by the bots and special offers on “tokens” that can be purchased to operate them, and often act as places where people using the bots can find links to new ones if they are removed by Telegram.

After WIRED contacted Telegram with questions about whether it allows explicit deepfake content creation on its platform, the company deleted the 75 bots and channels WIRED identified. The company did not respond to a series of questions or comment on why it had removed the channels.

Additional nonconsensual deepfake Telegram channels and bots later identified by WIRED show the scale of the problem. Several channel owners posted that their bots had been taken down, with one saying, “We will make another bot tomorrow.” Those accounts were also later deleted.

Hiding in Plain Sight

Telegram bots are, essentially, small apps that run inside of Telegram. They sit alongside the app’s channels, which can broadcast messages to an unlimited number of subscribers; groups where up to 200,000 people can interact; and one-to-one messages. Developers have created bots where people take trivia quizzes, translate messages, create alerts, or start Zoom meetings. They’ve also been co-opted for creating abusive deepfakes.

Due to the harmful nature of the deepfake tools, WIRED did not test the Telegram bots and is not naming specific bots or channels. While the bots had millions of monthly users, according to Telegram’s statistics, it is unclear how many images the bots may have been used to create. Some users, who could be in multiple channels and bots, may have created zero images; others could have created hundreds.

Many of the deepfake bots viewed by WIRED are clear about what they have been created to do. The bots’ names and descriptions refer to nudity and removing women’s clothes. “I can do anything you want about the face or clothes of the photo you give me,” the creators’ of one bot wrote. “Experience the shock brought by AI,” another says. Telegram can also show “similar channels” in its recommendation tool, helping potential users bounce between channels and bots.

Almost all of the bots require people to buy “tokens” to create images, and it is unclear if they operate in the ways they claim. As the ecosystem around deepfake generation has flourished in recent years, it has become a potentially lucrative source of income for those who create websites, apps, and bots. So many people are trying to use “nudify” websites that Russian cybercriminals, as reported by 404Media, have started creating fake websites to infect people with malware.

While the first Telegram bots, identified several years ago, were relatively rudimentary, the technology needed to create more realistic AI-generated images has improved—and some of the bots are hiding in plain sight.

One bot with more than 300,000 monthly users did not reference any explicit material in its name or landing page. However, once a user clicks to use the bot, it claims it has more than 40 options for images, many of which are highly sexual in nature. That same bot has a user guide, hosted on the web outside of Telegram, describing how to create the highest-quality images. Bot developers can require users to accept terms of service, which may forbid users from uploading images without the consent of the person depicted or images of children, but there appears to be little or no enforcement of these rules.

Another bot, which had more than 38,000 users, claimed people could send six images of the same man or woman—it is one of a small number that claims to create images of men—to “train” an AI model, which could then create new deepfake images of that individual. Once users joined one bot, it would present a menu of 11 “other bots” from the creators, likely to keep systems online and try to avoid removals.

“These types of fake images can harm a person’s health and well-being by causing psychological trauma and feelings of humiliation, fear, embarrassment, and shame,” says Emma Pickering, the head of technology-facilitated abuse and economic empowerment at Refuge, the UK’s largest domestic abuse organization. “While this form of abuse is common, perpetrators are rarely held to account, and we know this type of abuse is becoming increasingly common in intimate partner relationships.”

As explicit deepfakes have become easier to create and more prevalent, lawmakers and tech companies have been slow to stem the tide. Across the US, 23 states have passed laws to address nonconsensual deepfakes, and tech companies have bolstered some policies. However, apps that can create explicit deepfakes have been found in Apple and Google’s app stores, explicit deepfakes of Taylor Swift were widely shared on X in January, and Big Tech sign-in infrastructure has allowed people to easily create accounts on deepfake websites.

Kate Ruane, director of the Center for Democracy and Technology’s free expression project, says most major technology platforms now have policies prohibiting nonconsensual distribution of intimate images, with many of the biggest agreeing to principles to tackle deepfakes. “I would say that it’s actually not clear whether nonconsensual intimate image creation or distribution is prohibited on the platform,” Ruane says of Telegram’s terms of service, which are less detailed than other major tech platforms.

Telegram’s approach to removing harmful content has long been criticized by civil society groups, with the platform historically hosting scammers, extreme right-wing groups, and terrorism-related content. Since Telegram CEO and founder Pavel Durov was arrested and charged in France in August relating to a range of potential offenses, Telegram has started to make some changes to its terms of service and provide data to law enforcement agencies. The company did not respond to WIRED’s questions about whether it specifically prohibits explicit deepfakes.

Execute the Harm

Ajder, the researcher who discovered deepfake Telegram bots four years ago, says the app is almost uniquely positioned for deepfake abuse. “Telegram provides you with the search functionality, so it allows you to identify communities, chats, and bots,” Ajder says. “It provides the bot-hosting functionality, so it's somewhere that provides the tooling in effect. Then it’s also the place where you can share it and actually execute the harm in terms of the end result.”

In late September, several deepfake channels started posting that Telegram had removed their bots. It is unclear what prompted the removals. On September 30, a channel with 295,000 subscribers posted that Telegram had “banned” its bots, but it posted a new bot link for users to use. (The channel was removed after WIRED sent questions to Telegram.)

“One of the things that’s really concerning about apps like Telegram is that it is so difficult to track and monitor, particularly from the perspective of survivors,” says Elena Michael, the cofounder and director of #NotYourPorn, a campaign group working to protect people from image-based sexual abuse.

Michael says Telegram has been “notoriously difficult” to discuss safety issues with, but notes there has been some progress from the company in recent years. However, she says the company should be more proactive in moderating and filtering out content itself.

“Imagine if you were a survivor who’s having to do that themselves, surely the burden shouldn't be on an individual,” Michael says. “Surely the burden should be on the company to put something in place that's proactive rather than reactive.”

[tunatober]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024

Hello friends! Are you looking for a prompt challenge for 2024, but don't really feel the desire to stick to only one genre? Does your sole feel betta suited to taking on a prompt challenge that provides options for kink, fluff, AND angst? Or, are you just looking to see what delicious fics or art might spawn from some of the gill-iant minds of a few writers and artists on tumblr? Whale, here's your chance!

(fine, I'll put away the puns, just know I did it on porpoise)

Started by the Murdock's Tuna Team discord server, the Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge is a unique fic/art challenge, in which for every day in October, you are provided one of three prompts: a kink prompt, a fluff prompt, and a whump/angst prompt. Like many other 'Tober prompt challenges, it isn't mandatory to complete all the prompts. You're free to choose as you please! Do one! Do ten! Do one a day! Do them all! Mix and swap as needed! The Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge is meant to stir your creativity, not fill you with stress. There also is no fandom or character requirement, so chase that muse where She leads you. In addition to our three prompts for each day of October, there are also four sets of backup prompts, just in case you hit a day where you just ain't feeling the three that were provided.

This blog isn't just for the rules, however. It'll also be reblogging any Tuna-Tober fics or art that our lovely team of writers and artists complete so we can keep them all in one place! If you'd like to read those fics, all you have to do is give us a follow. And if you really don't want to miss anything, feel free to set us for notifications!

If you're taking part in Tuna-Tober, either as a writer or an artist, please remember to tag your fic or art: Tuna-Tober 2024. That way I can find your fics or art to reblog. If you only post on AO3, you can also make a post here on tumblr linking to it (remember to tag it), and I can reblog that. Once I have the time, I'll set up a collection on AO3 that'll gather up any fics or art we have there, too! ❤️

Without further ado, our prompts!

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

[writing-for-marvel]

Short of Breath

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 1 | Series Masterlist | PART 3 > >

Summary: You hear rumours about Bucky’s reputation within the hospital just prior to him taking you on a first date you’ll never forget.

Warnings: strictly 18+ only, oral (fem receiving), mentioned unprotected vaginal sex, some light angst (I mean it’s me, what do you expect?), Bucky having a reputation as a heartbreaker, but also him being super sweet and planning a very cute date, additional warning for my terrible flirty dialogue

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: square filled for @sebastianstanbingo ‘picnic date’ (shhh that’s meant to be a surprise), banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

‘Does 6:30 sound good? I’ll pick you up from the hospital lobby.’

Your stomach flutters with butterflies as your phone vibrates with a new message, the name Bucky bookended with blue hearts flashing in your notifications. An inexorable smile overcomes your features as you instantly message him back confirming your availability.

Gosh, when was the last time you were both this excited and nervous to go on a date?

“Well don’t you look smitten.” A friendly voice mentions from beside you. Wanda, a fellow resident and currently just about your only friend in your new workplace, leans against the lockers next to yours, gazing at you with raised brows, as if to silently ask why you’re so enamoured with whoever your messaging.

“I’ve got a date tomorrow night with an absolute beefcake.”

“Oh, is it that attending who’s been giving you all the good cases?” You stare down at your phone when it buzzes yet again, smiling when you notice Bucky has reacted to your message with a heart.

“No, it’s not Odinson.” A chuckle leaves your lips as Wanda frowns, almost looking disappointed it’s not a Thor you’re going out with.

“I always thought he was sexy, you know in a chiselled like a god with a gentle heart sort of way.” There’s a dreamy quality to her voice which makes you suspect she’s thought about having unethical relations in this hospital with him before. “Who is it then?”

“He’s a paramedic. I met him the other day when the train derailed. His name’s Bucky.” The joy you could perceive in Wanda’s eyes changes to something closer to dismay.

“Oh sweetie, you poor naive young thing.” You’re unsure why her voice is now filled with consolation, but it makes your chest tighten and the bottom of your stomach drop.

“What are you talking about?”

“Bucky Barnes has earned a bit of a reputation around this hospital.” You can sense in her voice she’s hesitant of revealing too much, trying to break the news gently to spare your feelings.

You aren’t an idiot, Bucky was quite clearly a natural flirt, that was evident from your interaction in the ER the other day, but by no means does that make him a bad person or someone to stay away from.

“He loves the chase. But that all ends the moment you sleep with him.” Wanda continues, discerning that she hasn’t provided enough information to convince you. “He’ll wine and dine you, and take you back to your place if you’re willing to put out on the first date. Then the only time you’ll see him again is across the room when he’s bringing patients into the ER.”

Your heart sinks below your stomach. You don’t want to believe petty rumours about someone you barely know, but it’s hard to look past the fact that someone as gorgeous and charming as Bucky isn’t already taken. Wanda also has no reason to lie to you, in fact, she’s likely the only person in the hospital you’d trust in this position.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience…” Your voice trails off, eyes trailing to the floor and out of the corner of your eye you see Wanda slump in response.

“Not me personally, but I’ve heard first hand stories from other doctors and nurses.” Her hand finds your shoulder in a reassuring touch. You must not be doing a good job of hiding the disappointment drowning your lungs. “Still go - at a minimum you’ll get laid. Just don’t get your hopes up that there will be anything beyond that. There is nothing wrong with you sweetie, no one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.”

You shut your locker slowly, feeling completely demoralised compared to the swelling hope and joyful mood you had arrived at the hospital with.

Maybe you could be the one who changed him? Was that a foolish fantasy destined to end in heartbreak?

Determined to not let this piece of news ruin the rest of your day, you hold your head high as you start your rounds, heading firstly to see Sasha and her mom. Just because Bucky didn’t want more than a one night stand with some other hospital employees doesn’t mean it will be the same with you.

There was no denying you both felt something as you were patching him up earlier in the week. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to figure out if that something is just attraction, or destined for so much more.

* * *

Fiddling with the ends of your dress, you stand waiting for Bucky in the hospital lobby, feeling more nervous than excited after your conversation with Wanda the previous day. Unsure about what Bucky had planned for the night, you chose to wear something you shined with confidence in, guessing that’s something the self assured Bucky Barnes would appreciate.

Trying to push any anxious thoughts to the back of your mind, you instead choose to remind yourself Bucky was the one who gave you his phone number, he’s the one who asked you on this date. He wants you.

Just prior to 6:30, before you’ve even had the chance to glance at your phone, anxious about if Bucky is actually going to show, you hear your name called across the foyer. Looking up, you find the most handsome, staggeringly beautiful man walking towards you and you swear your heart skips a beat.

The first thing you notice about Bucky's appearance is that trademark smirk you’d found yourself missing the past few days. That same grin which had your cheeks heating and butterflies fluttering in your stomach in the emergency room, elicits the same reaction now as he strides towards you in a blue button up which makes his eyes shine like sapphires.

“You clean up nice.” You comment, seizing the opportunity to take all of him in, to appreciate just how broad and strong he is, even in civilian clothes.

“Not as nice as you do.” Grabbing your hands out wide, he makes a show of looking you up and down as you had done with him, but instead much more conspicuously, and in a way that has confidence soaring in your chest. “You’re breathtaking.” This motherfucker knows exactly what he’s doing, you think as a bashful smile overtakes you’re features.

Bucky then pulls you in for a quick, friendly hug before leading you out to the carpark with the promise of taking you to a place you probably aren’t expecting to go for a first date.

He stops by a motorbike and offers you a helmet and his leather jacket, and for a split second you have to hold back laughter, thinking he is joking.

“You’re a paramedic, surely you know better than anyone how dangerous these things are!” You comment as Bucky straddles what you assume he refers to as his prize possession. You must admit it is a gorgeous motorcycle - polished to perfection, and Bucky somehow looks even more attractive with his thick thighs spread around the heavy bike.

“I promise to drive safely as long as you promise to hold on tight.” Bucky quips as you take the helmet and jacket. You’re going to be able to shamelessly feel more of him a lot earlier on in this date than you were expecting, but you’re certainly not mad about it.

You straddle the bike behind him, and though there is ample space for you to both fit, you snuggle close to his back, hands finding his hips to steady yourself as he starts the ignition. Once Bucky drives onto the main highway, you’re clinging tightly to his firm middle, fearful about the lack of a barrier between you and the unforgiving asphalt surface of the road.

Your anxiety is short lived as Bucky soon takes a turn to a part of town you’ve not been to before, and soon pulls over to a quiet, non-distinct park which you have to admit you aren’t expecting.

“This place is a hidden gem of this city, I love to come here to clear my head.” Bucky comments as he guides you past the trees and once you step foot into the clearing beyond, you can understand why he’s brought you here.

The riverbank overlooks the city skyline, with a perfect view of where the sun will be setting and the light warm orange and pink hues painting the night sky. Bucky gazes at you with a sweet smile, as you take in the scene, leading you over to a red and white chequered picnic blanket already set up to seat two, with a bottle of sparkling water and a basket of finger food ready to be consumed.

Damn, he really is going to a lot of effort for you.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?” You take a seat on the blanket, looking around to notice that you’re completely on your own. You’re unsure whether this fact should surprise you, if Bucky had a hand in ensuring that you’d have your privacy for your first date, or if it’s purely a happy coincidence.

“Well I am trying to impress you.”

“Eh, I think you could do better.” You jest, when in fact you admire how much effort he’s gone to for you. He loves the chase, Wanda’s words echo in your mind, and a small, hollow void in your chest feels jealous that the gorgeous Bucky Barnes has treated any number of other women to a comparable date.

“Well I haven’t kissed you yet, just you wait, you'll be putty in my hands.” He says with a pure faith which compels you to believe him, though also makes you wonder just how many other girls he’s kissed merely by using that same line.

“Confident, are we?”

“Once you kiss me, you won’t want to kiss anyone else, I promise you.” You’re positive that even just a single kiss from Bucky Barnes will have you addicted, if you aren’t already, which is why you take a sip of your sparkling water instead of leaning closer than your faces are already. Perhaps you’re a cynic, maybe you don’t want to open your heart to the prospect of being hurt, but you’re not going to just give into his charms within the first five minutes of this date because he’s cute and has a way with words.

“You’ll have to earn a kiss from me first, James.” You say but are met with a cheeky grin. He loves the chase, and you’re pretty sure this challenge is only adding more fuel to the fire of his motivation.

Conversation flows easily, the only silence between the two of you comfortable as you tried the diversity of foods Bucky had packed. Amid the shameless flirting, he asked you about your home, and what prompted your change of cities. He told you all about his childhood best friend Steve, who you could have mistaken for his brother with the pure love he spoke about him with.

The only question he wasn’t forthcoming with an answer was when you asked about why he became a paramedic. Though, you understand there are sensitive matters Bucky wouldn’t want to discuss with someone on a first date, so you don’t push the subject, choosing to instead change the topic to something where you know will bring out his contagious smile you’re quickly falling for.

As the sun sets, an ombré of vibrant oranges, reds and pinks decorates the sky, and you have the perfect view sitting on the riverbank opposite the city centre. You feel content, happy, and though the sight is gorgeous, you know it mostly has to do with the man sitting next to you.

“I can see why you like it here, this is beautiful.” You comment, eyes soaking in the stunning scene, noting this moment in the part of your brain that stores influential moments, those that you want to remember for a lifetime. However, you can sense Bucky’s attention beside you isn’t focussed where yours is as he speaks.

“I think I’ve got a better view right here.” You turn back to find Bucky looking at you with an affection you wouldn’t typically associate with someone sharing a first date, yet the undeniable fondness is there nonetheless. The softness and earnestness in his voice could fool you into thinking he truly does mean the sentiment, and it’s not just a pickup line.

“That’s so cheesy, Barnes. You take all your girls here at sunset and pull that line on them?” You immediately regret your choice of words - even if he had, you don’t want to know if he’s done all this for someone else, this moment between you feels special, magical, and you’d rather believe the tale that you’re the only one he’s shared this with.

“Nope, not a single one.” His voice is low and honest, with a level of desperation to make you believe him. “And even if I had, I’d have never meant it more.” His hand tenderly cups your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek, as you lean into him. The warmth his touch provides welcome in the cooling night.

“You really are something else, aren’t you James?” There’s a flicker in his features when you refer to him by his first name, an indication that you're not joking as you do when you use his last name or sometimes the adorable childhood nickname he’s known to everyone else by, rather, he knows you’re being authentic.

“I think that’s you, darling.” Bucky murmurs, brushing his thumb this time over your bottom lip. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation of his long awaited touch after craving it sitting across from him throughout the night. “Never met anyone like you. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.”

He makes it too damn hard to resist him, and instead of spending energy enduring the space between you, you decide it’s time to surrender to what your body wants.

Bucky watches intently as you move the picnic basket, which was dividing the blanket in half, and move over to his side, which seems much more limited for space with his large frame.

“So I recall you mentioning something about a kiss…” You lean forward, expecting Bucky to meet you halfway, but to your surprise and disappointment he tilts further away from you.

“You sure I’ve earned it yet?” He teases, not even able to keep his own small chuckle from leaving his lips. Your stomach flips as you anticipate what’s about to happen next.

“Why don’t you come here and find out?”

Without missing another beat, Bucky grabs either side of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. You can feel the blood rushing through your ears with how nervous and excited you are to be finally giving in to what you have been yearning to do since seeing him carry Sasha into the ER.

As his tongue sweeps into your mouth, his dominant hands move down to your thighs and lift you from your place next to him to straddling his stocky thighs.

You hate to admit it, but he was right.

You are putty in his hands.

And the longer the kiss lasts, the more certain you are that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the only man you ever want to kiss again.

Bucky smiles into the kiss, the jerk somehow knowing exactly what thoughts are running through your mind and the overwhelming effect he has on you. But you’re determined to prove it’s not just him that can elicit a lustful reaction. From your vantage on his upper thighs, you rock your hips deliberately slowly, drawing a whimper from Bucky’s lips.

Just as his large hands slip under the hem of your dress, brushing the bare skin of your back and pulling you even closer into him, you feel a spot of rain on your cheek. Then another. And before you’re even able to untangle yourself from Bucky’s embrace, the rain is pouring down on you both.

Neglecting the picnic blanket and basket, you both run to the cover of a nearby tree, Bucky covering you with his large leather jacket. Though the act is sweet, it ends up being fruitless as the water comes in at such a harsh angle you end up saturated anyway.

“I’m soaking!” You laugh, more at the inconvenience and your vexation at the timing of Mother Nature, than actually finding the situation funny. Bucky cups your face with a smile on his own, that same fondness still brimming in his eyes which makes you come undone.

“I’m sure there’s a joke about you being wet in there somewhere.” He’s not wrong, you were dripping before the rain started, but you’re not letting him onto that, at least not yet.

You laugh genuinely at his stupid wisecrack before pulling him back into a passionate kiss, not caring enough about how you look when absolutely drenched while Bucky gazes at you like you’re still the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.

You're not sure how long you spend kissing under the tree, but the rain is still pouring down when you both come up for air. Bucky looks at you expectantly, gentle hands still maintaining contact on your hips, and you know in this moment you’re deciding if you want to be one of the girls Wanta told you about that Bucky Barnes fucks on the first date.

“Take me home, Buck.”

The ride back to your place is longer than the earlier drive, stretched out by your need for Bucky not being fulfilled while the only contact possible is your arms around his solid waist.

Once Bucky’s parked his bike, you rush to your front door to get out of the rain, though it is a futile exercise as you're already completely sodden from the drive.

He presses you up against your door, in full view of any of your neighbours who might happen to be passing by, and remedies the situation of your mouth missing his tongue. His kiss is fervent, lips and tongue hungry, tasting all that you give him access to. Your hands find their way to his hair, his own slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his calloused hands brushing over the backs of your thighs before moving higher to find your ass, squeezing.

When you pull away you’re out of breath, but by the smug look in Bucky eyes, he seems proud of that feat.

“Would you like to come inside?” You ask breathlessly, already presuming his answer, your chest heating and your heart palpitating under his stare - if you didn’t know how aroused you were from Bucky’s kiss alone, you might actually be concerned for your health.

Bucky cocks his head to the side, and you just know something cheeky is going to come out of his mouth.

“You want me to cum inside?” You have to refrain from rolling your eyes, because as shameless and forward as Bucky’s being, your more than happy to follow through with his inference.

“Yes, I certainly want you to cum inside.”

Bucky’s hands never leave contact with your hips as you grab your keys to unlock your door, and once you’ve made your way inside, he takes complete control. Your back hits the door with a thud, but it’s excitement that tingles up your spine as Bucky leans his weight on you, lifting your thigh to curl your leg around his waist which allows you to pull his pelvis flush with yours.

You let out a small gasp when you feel Bucky’s clothed thick, hardening length press against your core. His signature, disarmingly charming smirk curves at the corners of his mouth as he leans down closer to you, piercing eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, darling.” He promises in a low voice, before closing the remaining meagre space between you, lips capturing yours in a greedy kiss.

His hands locate the end of your dress again, sourcing your soaking entrance, his touch light not enough to satisfy your desperate need for him. Bucky smiles as he pulls away from your lips, bunching the end of your wet dress in his hands as he drops to his knees.

Fuck, he looks so damn perfect kneeling between your parted legs, licking his lips like he’s ready to devour you like a man starving. When was the last time a man fell to his knees for you? Have they ever?

Your train of thought comes to an abrupt stop when Bucky hooks your leg over his shoulder and places a kiss on your clothed pussy, you feel the flood of wetness pool at his teasing touch.

“Don’t you dare tease, Bucky.”

“But that’s what I’m best at.” He quips, placing a few delicate kisses to the soft inside of your thigh, each time closer to your centre than the last. Though he soon enough adheres to your warning by pulling your panties to the side and using those cheeky lips of his for good use by sucking on your clit.

Pleasure tingles up your spine as Bucky continues to eat you out, his strong arms keeping you upright as the sensation of his warm, wet tongue licking up your dripping arousal overwhelms all your senses.

“Mmm so sweet.” He hums against your folds, the reverberations sending jolts of ecstasy through your body.

“Fuck, Bucky, right there.” You manage to articulate between the stream of moans and whimpers his frenetic motions pull from the back of your throat, the sounds of which only spur Bucky on.

As he laps up all the wetness he himself is responsible for, you hurtle ever quicker towards the edge of bliss, the band in your stomach straining to an almost painful tension. You shift the angle of your hips ever so slightly, and when Bucky’s lips attach once more to your clit, you’re coming undone for him.

Your all consuming orgasm knocks the breath from your lungs, fingers grasping tightly to the strands of Bucky’s long hair to keep you grounded to Earth and stop you from floating away on a cloud of pure euphoria. Bucky slows his motions as he helps you ride out your high, hands maintaining a strong grip on your hips to keep you upright, determined to pull every ounce of pleasure from your body as possible.

When he figures he has, Bucky rises to his feet, locking lips in a bruising kiss in which you can taste yourself. He kisses you until you are short of breath and disoriented in your own home, hypnotised by how his hands tenderly caress your body, which contrasts to the vigorous assault his tongue just performed on your clit.

“This time, I’m going to watch as you fall apart on my cock.” Bucky commands as he starts unzipping his pants.

Based on his first performance, you’re positive you’re in for the time of your life tonight. Now all you have to do is let him ruin you.

* * *

Your head lays on Bucky’s bare chest feeling the steady rise and fall with each breath. It’s only your first date, and yet you’ve not felt as tranquil nor euphoric since you moved to this new city as you do right here in his arms.

It’s been hours since you arrived home, already having christened your front entry, couch and bed, twice, with the filthy things Bucky has done to you, and in what you have to deem the most successful first date you’ve ever been on.

Being with Bucky feels like you’ve found your new home in this isolating city. The final piece to the puzzle which makes moving here feel complete, purposeful, and in hindsight, like you’ve absolutely made the right call.

Just as you snuggle closer to his side, his head leaning to rest on your own, he sighs and starts to speak. “I should head home, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow- well, actually technically today.” He chuckles looking over at the alarm clock on your nightstand. “Need to have a shower and change.”

Anxiety, maybe even something closer to panic, rises in your chest. This is it. The one night Wanda promised you’d get together before he inevitably exits your life for good is over.

But not if you can help it.

“If you stay over, you could wake up with my mouth around you and be having the most world shattering blowjob of your life.” You place a delicate hand on his bare, hairy chest, keeping him securely in bed with you, whispering the words smooth like honey into his ear. “But I guess if you want to spend the night alone…”

“God, you’re making it so hard-”

“I make you so hard, do I?” It’s you this time who is wearing a cheeky smirk, and Bucky chuckles in response.

“Not quite where I was going, but yes, yes you do.” It’s difficult, nay impossible, to believe that someone who you just shared a night filled with pure ecstasy, multiple orgasms, and who is currently gazing at you with more warmth than the hottest summer day, is going to ghost you.

Bucky places a sweet kiss to your lips before climbing out of bed, leaving the space beside you vacant, cold, and making the bed feel far too big for just one person.

“I’m gonna call you.” He says, as if sensing you need reassurance from the tension in the still night air between you. Once he tugs up his pants, quickly buttoning and zipping his fly, he strides over to you and places a lingering kiss to your lips. Your hands snake around his neck in an attempt to pull him back into bed with you, but he’s quite literally a ball of muscle and you find you don’t have the strength to make him budge. “I’ll call you.” He reiterates, and though there is minimal light in the room, his blue eyes shine with sincerity.

“You promise?” You ask as he searches for his shirt which was thrown somewhere earlier in the night, your heart clenching when he finds it, knowing even your naked presence in a soft bed isn’t enough to make him stay.

“I promise.” He pledges as looks back at you one last time, his hand reaching for the door handle when some quality about you prevents him from opening it. He returns to your side and kisses you again, ardently, urgently, and for a moment you’ll think he actually will stay.

But you’ve never been that lucky.

“You think I’m passing up on an opportunity to do this again with you? I promise I’m going to call.” He repeats assuredly, placing one final, earnest kiss to your lips that leaves you dizzy. When you open your eyes, you only just catch his bulky figure leaving the room. Pulling the covers over you as the warm comfort you need, a few seconds later you hear a click as the front door shuts and within the minute his bike roaring to life as he drives away.

The words Wanda spoke in the locker room the day before reach the front of your mind. No one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.

Hopefully you’re the exception.

Part 3 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

Triage [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert

[futurehunt]

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to." -Eris Vanserra and his hidden motives

The story of Eris Vanserra haunts me. At this point, most of the characters in ACOTAR are an open book in terms of their backgrounds but Eris's is still so shrouded in mystery and I have to know more. Consider this the inspiration for my following lengthy analysis of all the Eris Vanserra scenes we've been given. Additional inspiration being this clip of SJM from a since deleted live stream on Instagram (still available on YouTube) :

Love that SJM says that Eris is her favorite Autumn Court character but more importantly she spills a little detail about Eris having a secret history and a secret motivation behind his character. I think most readers assumed by now that Eris is primed for a redemption arc but this simply could've been reserved to him making amends for leaving Mor injured in the woods. No, this is something more than that- something significant that affected his actions back then and is still influencing them now.

Let's start breaking everything down:

Everything starts with: Eris found and left Mor in the woods at the Autumn Court border after she was tortured dumped there by her father, Keir.

Why did he do this?

“I knew why you did it... So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms" - Eris in ACOWAR

After Mor slept with Cassian, Eris knew Mor did it because she wanted out of the engagement (for a secret reason- on her end- that we'll touch on in a bit) so he ended the betrothal as she wished.

But why did Eris leave her there, injured with fatal wounds? This is still the biggest point of hostility between him and the IC.

"There were forces at work that you have never considered," Eris said coldly. "And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me" - ACOWAR

What are these forces?

We're given an answer to this question during a scene in ACOFAS when Mor is recalling the memory of that day at the Autumn Court border.

“No one touches her,” he said. Eris. “The moment we do, she’s our responsibility.” Cold, unfeeling words. “But—but they nailed a—” “No one touches her.” - ACOFAS

If Eris or his men provided aid to Mor she would've become their responsibility, implying that she would've become a ward of the Autumn Court essentially. This is probably why Keir even dumped her on the border in the first place, because he knew that if the Autumn Court provided her aid they would have to assume responsibility for her. It was created as a lose-lose situation for Mor: get help from Eris and be trapped at the Autumn Court or be refused help and left to suffer and potentially die in the woods.

“I take it you do not wish to live here, Morrigan.” She would rather die here, bleed out here. She would rather die and return—return as something wicked and cruel, and shred them all apart. He must have read it in her eyes. A small smile curved his lips. “I thought so.” -ACOFAS

He knew she'd rather die than live there so he acted according to her wishes, even though it was done cruelly. This scene, which we're given from Mor's perspective, shows that she heard the true reason why Eris refused to provide her aid but because of the trauma of the whole situation she likely never put two and two together.

But the situation is a bit more complex than that. There is more to the reason that Eris left her in the woods to have her freedom.

“Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. “She knows the truth but has never revealed it." “Why?” “Because she is afraid of it.” - ACOSF; dance scene between Nesta and Eris

Eris knows something about Mor that she's afraid to reveal. What's the only fact we know about Mor that she's been hiding her entire life? That she's queer. It seems somehow Eris was aware of this.

“Eris looked between them, smiling faintly. Secretly. As if he knew something that Azriel didn’t. "I knew why you did it" Again that secret smile that had Mor shrinking." -ACOWAR

Later on in ACOWAR, we find out the big secret Mor is hiding is that she's romantically attracted to females. Alright, so somehow Eris knew Mor was queer back when they were betrothed. It seems that this was part of the reason he left her to her freedom.

Despite the cruel nature he's described to have, Eris keeps the knowledge that Mor is queer to himself. Eris left Mor in the woods because he knew she wanted her freedom and the reason she wanted her freedom was because she is queer. Out of some uncharacteristic kindness, Eris won't share this information with the rest of the IC because he seems to not want to out her because he knows she's afraid of the truth. Refer to the quote between Eris and Nesta above for proof of this.

But what are Eris's own secret motivations in all of this?

“So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms.”

“And what happened next,” Azriel growled.

A shadow crossed Eris’s face. “There are few things I regret. That is one of them. But … perhaps one day, now that we are allies, I shall tell you why. What it cost me.”

This is such an important line and one that if you don't dissect it properly, you won't understand it's real meaning.

"What it cost me". The cost that Eris is referring to is one that he suffered as a result of leaving Mor unaided in the woods. NOT from breaking the engagement, from leaving her. "The cost" is something that would've been unaffected by breaking the engagement (because Eris has no remorse over that) but affected by abandoning an injured Mor (because this is what Eris labels as one of the few things he regrets). Mor being left in the woods was, in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential for the rest of Prythian. The only people negatively affected by it were Mor and the rest of the IC.

"Perhaps one day... I shall tell you why" when Eris says this, he means: perhaps one day he'll them why he regrets it, NOT why he did it. It's important to read this quote in the context of its surrounding passages because you'll see that he had an opportunity to explain why he left her but he instead tells Mor he's not going to "waste his breath explaining it to her."

So after breaking down those lines we know: Eris regrets abandoning Mor because of something it cost him in relation to the IC now hating him after the events at the border but "the cost" is something he's hesitant to reveal to them.

For the sake of the analysis, let's go over a few things we know Eris does canonically care about and why they are not the cost he's referring to:

His father's throne: It's not secret that Eris wants to usurp his father. Feyre even notes how startled she was to hear Eris discuss killing his father so blatantly. Also, if the marriage to Mor would've aided Eris in taking the throne then Eris would've expressed remorse at ending the engagement but he didn't. He only regretted leaving her injured.

His mother, Lady of Autumn: The text shows us that Eris is concerned over the welfare of this mother when he angles his body to protect her during the High Lord meeting scene. However at the time of Eris's betrothal to Mor, his mother wasn't miserable in her marriage the way she's described now. It wasn't until LoA's affair with Helion was revealed, which happened decades after the Eris and Mor situation, that Beron began abusing his wife. Of course, Eris undoubtedly wants his father dead because of this but we know it's not "the cost" that Eris references since it wasn't a factor at the time.

“Helion shrugged. “On and off for decades. Until Beron found out. They say the lady was all brightness and smiles before that. And after Beron was through with her. You saw what she is.” “What did he do to her?” “The same things he does now.” Helion waved a hand. “Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them.” - ACOWAR

Lucien: Eris has a soft spot for Lucien but he wasn't born for decades after everything happened so he can't be a factor in why Eris regrets his actions.

His father tortures him: It's revealed at the end of ACOSF that Beron tortures Eris after Cassian realizes Eris is injured after returning back from Autumn. We're not told how long it's been occurring and Eris is extremely reluctant to speak on the matter. However, if this was the big secret Eris has been hiding there'd be a bit more emphasis placed on the reveal. In fact, Cassian pushes him again after that to tell him the true reason he left Mor on the border (keep in mind Cassian doesn't know Mor is queer and Eris is refusing to reveal that information to others) and asks Eris for the real reason he's back the Night Court trying to make amends.

Why is Eris back at the Night Court after everything that happened, pushing so hard to build an alliance?

When pushed for the truth, Eris tells Cassian:

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to" - ACOSF

Cassian assumes Eris means Mor and tells him she won't want to hear his explanations anyway. But is Mor really the person Eris was referencing. I think not, given we've been given these lines:

Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. “She knows the truth but has never revealed it." -ACOSF

"There were forces at work that you have never considered," Eris said coldly. "And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me"- ACOWAR

Eris says that Mor already knows the truth and has explicitly said he doesn't care what she thinks about him. He has nothing to explain to her. And aside from those two facts, which already make it clear enough that Mor is not the person Eris meant, what more would Eris gain from speaking to Mor? Assuaging his guilt? That could be a reasonable explanation if it weren't for Cassian already asking Eris if guilt is what was motivating him, Cassian realizing it's not and pushing for Eris to "give me a damn answer".

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to"

So, who in the IC does Eris want to explain himself to?

Mor? No, for reasons stated above

Cassian? No, they're speaking in that scene and if Cassian were the person then Eris wouldn't have said that

Feyre? Nesta? Elain? Weren't alive so aren't applicable

Lucien? Wasn't alive during the incident and is thus unaffected

Rhysand? We're told in ACOSF (Chapter 7) that Eris already has Rhysand's trust and allyship

Amren? I guess I can't necessarily eliminate Amren as the person Eris wants to explain himself to but let's be real, it's not her.

Azriel? Hmm....The person who arguably hates Eris more than even Mor herself. Who has such a burning passionate rage towards Eris that he attacked him during a High Lord meeting, yet also dropped everything to fly to the Continent to save Eris when he was abducted by Koschei.

Conclusion and remaining questions

Let's put everything together:

Eris is back at the Night Court attempting to smooth things over, make amends, and build an allyship. On the surface, we're told it's all because he wants the throne. But what we now know from SJM (in her interview) and our textual analysis is that Eris paid a big, deeply personal price due to the fall out of leaving Mor injured at the Autumn Court border. This cost was directly tied to the IC's perception of him. Eris lost something or the chance at something when the Night Court began to hate him. So he's back, 500-ish years later, attempting to make amends because of the same problem that plagued him all those centuries ago. We also know there's only one person he's interested in explaining himself to- and that person interestingly seems to be Azriel. Why would Eris want to explain himself to Azriel? Why go to these lengths to make amends with him? Was "the cost" Eris paid 500 years ago tied to Azriel?Is this all tied to Eris's "secret history and secret motivations" that SJM referenced? Crack theory time: What if Eris and Azriel are mates? If they are, it would seem maybe Eris knows about it but Azriel isn't consciously aware? It could explain Azriel's extreme and passionate reactions to Eris. What if when Eris became an enemy of the Night Court he lost his chance at having a connection to his mate. It would also explain why Eris is so tight lipped about his secret motivations. We know that Beron tortures Eris as he is now, imagine what he would do to Eris if he found out he was queer. If Eris is queer it would also explain his empathy to Mor and his reluctance to tell her truth to other people. This could also explain why Azriel is the one person Eris wants to explain himself to, because Azriel is the only person whose opinion he cares about. AND this would also provide an answer to the great "Azriel mate debate". I know Gwynriel is a popular theory but the text has not given us any indication that they are (yes, bonus chapter included) and Azriel had never displayed any mate-like behavior around her. Eris and Azriel also provide interesting foils to one another: flame and shadow- which is a theme that's mentioned in both of SJM's other series. We also know how much SJM loves her enemies to lovers.

"There was an icy rage in Azriel I'd never been able to thaw" -Rhysand in ACOMAF

Azriel is routinely described as icy and frozen, physically and emotionally. What better to thaw ice than fire!

If you read this far- thank you and ily.

Feel free to let me know if you have any critiques to my reasoning!

[philomaela]

Laenor dying really fucked up a lot for Rhaenyra, huh? Because like, Laenor is very valuable to Rhaenyra, as long as he's alive the rumors of her children's illegitimacy are basically worthless. In a patriarchal system such as Westeros, as long as a husband is around to proclaim that his children are his, there's nothing anyone can really do about it. It doesn't really matter what "evidence" is provided so long as Laenor wants to keep claiming these children, nothing is going to shift their status. After all, think about a patriarchal, feudal society where someone can go to a Lord and just declare that your children aren't actually yours, it would be a nightmare from a property/inheritance perspective. Even if the King who was the one to do that... the book goes out of the way to point out how scared the Lords are of losing their "rights", something like that would certainly imply that a Lord no longer has rights over his wife/children. It's a fascinating moment where Laenor and Rhaenyra are able to publicly flout repressive societal laws and then hide behind those same laws for protection.

But yeah anyway, Laenor is so valuable from that perspective, plus he's a dragonrider and in that sense very valuable against the Green faction. Plus he's representative of the Velaryons alliance, in addition to the Jace/Baela and Luke/Rhaena betrothals of course.

That's why Laenor's funeral is so interesting to me, it represents a complete reversal of fortune for the Blacks at that point and I feel like that has to be part of the significance of Aemond's claiming of Vhagar being done at Laenor's funeral. Because the incident perfectly illustrates how Rhaenyra is on the backfoot now that Laenor is dead. Suddenly the rumor of the children's illegitimacy is no laughing matter, without Laenor as a shield the accusations of bastardy become dangerous for her children. As well, they've lost a valuable dragon rider and to further illustrate the point, the other side now has the biggest dragon. Not to mention this takes place at Driftmark which again I think symbolizes how now Rhaenyra is not necessarily strong because of her Velaryon alliance.

I totally get why the book accuses Daemon of killing Laenor because like... regardless of whether he did it, after the Vhagar incident, Rhaenyra basically had to marry him. He's the only one with a dragon that can feasibly stand up to the Greens, he in theory has a fierce enough reputation to help silence the rumors of her children's illegitimacy (though this is a double edged sword) and he's Baela and Rhaena's father which means he's key to ensuring that the Velaryon/Targaryen alliance remains strong through the marriages of their children. All of the things about how he is a terrible person who hurt her reputation in the past and hurt her reputation currently remain true but like fundamentally... what other choice is there in the moment? You can say well "she shouldn't have had children with Harwin Strong" but like... for all this is a fantasy world, they have yet to introduce time travel. She made certain choices under certain circumstances and when things changed she was suddenly in a very different situation and she had to pivot.

[circle-with-me]

tangled up in morning white

pairing: jolly karlsson x female ofc (violet)

content warning: 18+MDNI! unprotected sex, fingering (female receiving), very soft intimacy, so much fluff, these two clowns are so in love.

word count: 1.4k

tag list: @deathblacksmoke @darksigns-exe @malice-ov-mercy @sitkowski @somebodyels3 @baddestomens @cncohshit @cookiesupplier @collective-heartbreak @tearfallpixie @broken0mens @collapsedglasshouses @lma1986 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @catharsis-in-darkness @shilohrosechicken @sprokat

author’s note: surprise addition to the jolly and violet verse! this stemmed from a soft boy hours post @darksigns-exe (read it here!!) made that absolutely blew my mind. i hope i did it justice 🩷

It’s hard for Jolly to believe that there was ever a time before Violet. Sure, it existed—but his life changed for the better when she came along. They clicked instantly and became fast friends; it was hard not to with so many shared interests. Things were easy with Violet. Not only was she a blast to be around but she knew how to handle the messes he could make—both in his personal life and in his head. He would show up at her house at all hours and she would gather up his troubles, find the missing pieces, and fix them all by dawn. Somehow she managed this all with a cup of coffee and a pencil shoved in her bun to keep her hair out of her face while she thought. Jolly had no idea how she did it, but he was sure she was heaven sent. He always hoped he provided her with half of the same moral support she had given him. 

Now, years later, he has the privilege of waking up next to her each morning. It’s a feeling that he’ll never get used to, Jolly thinks. At least he hopes he doesn’t. The conscious awareness of her weight next to him provides him a sense of security. As long as she’s near him, he knows she’s safe. 

Jolly lies on his side watching her chest rise and fall slowly—her breathing acting as a calming agent. Violet’s pulse beats steadily in her neck. He could so easily lean over and press a kiss there but he can’t bring himself to disturb her. He gently pushes a strand of hair out of her face, admiring the way she smiles at his touch. Every attempt he makes at memorizing her features ends with him discovering something new and even more remarkable about her. 

She stirs under his touch. Her head turns to place kisses to his palm before her eyes even begin to open. Watching her sleep was incomparable to the breathtaking experience of seeing her wake. She extends her arm around his waist, fingers dancing along the warm skin. 

���Good morning, my flower.”

“Mmm. Hi.” Violet whispers drowsily as she shifts into his arms, tangling their legs together. Jolly buries his face in her hair inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She makes a content sound settling into his chest, undoubtedly enjoying the warmth that has developed between them. 

It’s calming—the two of them basking in the quiet early morning hours. He craves these innocent moments with her—needs them in ways he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe. It’s these moments that he desperately misses when he’s on tour. He tries to take advantage of them as much as possible when he’s home. Having her this close is equally a blessing and a curse. This morning, he needs something more, and when her knee slots between his thighs just so, it’s impossible for him to hide it any longer. She shifts in his arms and he’s met with green eyes peering up at him.

“Honey,” Violet sighs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She trails featherlight kisses across his chest. Her fingernails scratch at the skin under the waistband of his boxers. The contact makes him shudder and he can’t resist pressing into her more. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” He responds, his voice giving away just how worked up he is. “Also, we were having such a nice moment—I was trying not to ruin it.” 

Violet looks up at him with a sinful smile. She pushes her hand past his waistband, wrapping her fingers around his erection. Jolly’s eyes roll back into his head at her touch. He feels her smile against his lips, all hope of returning any attention back to her lips is completely lost in the grip she has on him. 

“Who says this can’t be a part of our nice moment together?” 

Jolly lets his hands respond for him—hiking her leg on top of his thigh. His hands snake their way up her oversized t-shirt and push it over her head. He makes quick work of his boxers but he’s unwilling to part ways with her for long, tugging her close once again. Her bare body connecting with him sets him on fire when he feels how affected she is already. 

A gasp leaves her parted lips when he sneaks a hand between her legs, fingering through her folds. It’s dizzying how tight she feels around a single finger when he slips it inside her. There’s no protest when he works a second in soon after. Her fingers dig into his chest and shoulders as she searches for purchase. His head sinks below to capture her breast in his mouth, licking and sucking at her nipple. He craves her warmth around his length but doesn’t dare take her pleasure away from her. She’s so close and he can feel it. It isn’t much longer until she falls apart for him.

Breathless, she crawls on top of him. Her lips attach to his chest and she leaves gentle bites along the skin. When she sits up, Jolly is left speechless. The sun has come up and peeks through the crack of the window. It shines beautifully onto Violet’s body, highlighting her gorgeous form. The green in her eyes beam with such magnificence that it would make the most beautiful emerald look dull. 

She seems just as mesmerized by him in the warm light, unhurriedly running her palms down his chest and stomach repeatedly. The two of them admire each other for what seems like hours. Jolly would happily burn the image of her on top of him into his eyelids if he could. 

“You’re shaking.” Violet observes. Her hand still steadily moves up and down his torso. She doesn’t seem to realize that she’s also shaking. Jolly gently takes her hand. Violet laces their fingers together and brings them to her lips. 

“Vi,” He breathes. “I need you.”

Violet lifts her hips and sinks down onto him with practiced ease. He grabs her waist moving her to set the pace but she pushes them away choosing to set her own torturously slow rhythm instead. While he thinks he may go mad from the unhurried pace, the pleasure is immeasurable and Jolly can feel himself burning from the inside out. 

He grabs fistfuls of the sheets beneath him—anything to keep his hands busy. The longing to close the proximity between them is profound. As he watches her move he dreams about wrapping his hand around her throat, not to choke, but bring her down to him—crush their lips together and intensify the moment even more. The desire to touch her grows too strong. He places a large palm on Violet’s chest, allowing her pulse to settle the frenzied thoughts in his brain.

The slow drag of her hips sets him alight with pleasure but his body relaxes with every roll, every sigh from her lips, every flutter of her eyelashes. He feels her walls squeeze around him—her legs begin to shake and the rest of her body follows soon after. The way she moans his name, Joakim, has always been unlike any other but this time feels different. Her voice raises an octave as a gasp forms around the end of his name. The glow of the morning light radiates around her and he feels unworthy of bearing witness to this moment. But it’s their moment. It belongs to them.

When Violet collapses over him— shuddering but otherwise still—he feels her fingers run through his brown locks that have spread out over the pillow. The pressure of her on his chest is blissfully suffocating. She kisses him in such a way that what little oxygen is left is pulled straight from his lungs. The feeling consumes him and he spills into her without warning. Each muscle in his body goes taut. Every one of his senses implode as she begins rocking on top of him again to prolong his climax. 

Jolly tries to see her again, to bask in her glow once more as he comes back down, but all he sees is Violet’s silhouette with a faint orange hue surrounding it. Her lips press against his forehead—the hands that were once in his hair cup his face, her thumbs delicately graze along his cheekbones. Violet’s soft murmurs of praise barely register in his ears from the blood still rushing through them. His arms wrap around her, somehow pulling her in closer than before. He’ll selfishly hold her here until she insists on getting out of bed. 

[alcazarofthestars]

Hello can I request yandere platonic fontaine with y/n that is like Kohaku from enstars by personality?

Of course! But I've only started playing enstars a few months ago, so my knowledge of his personality is a bit restricted and I'll be using the wiki... Sorry for being late, my practical exams are around the corner and then my end of semester tests come right after that....

Summary: After growing up as a very sheltered kid in the house of the hearth, you are trying to achieve your dream in Fontaine as a performer. But you have unfortunately managed to gain the interest of many famous figures and obsessive people in Fontaine...

Warning!: Yandere content (Obviously), bullying, ooc, insecurities, fighting, stalking, abuse(?), bad writing, disfiguration?, murder, harassing, taking pictures without consent, physically harming (not to the reader... kinda), manipulation, Fontaine cast girlbossing, gatekeeping, and gaslighting. (If any of those make you uncomfortable please leave.)

{~} So imagine this, you were born in a branch family of a rather noble family from Inazuma. But you were given up to Arlecchino by your parents because the main family isn't really welcoming of an heir of your gender in fear that the branch family will get any power against them. Even though the family was trying to modernize out of such beliefs, the current head of the family still firmly believes in it. So out of concern, your parents hid you for the first five years of your life until they gave you up to the house of the hearth.

{~} There in the orphanage you meet a pair of twins from Fontaine who aspire to be great magician and his assistant, the twins consist of one male and one female who introduced themselves as Lyney and Lynette. They were older than you by a few years and they would also love to put on a show for you! By this point you see them as your older siblings, and they also see you as their adorable younger sibling who has to be protected from the cruel world. But sadly, they go on a lot of missions outside of Snezhnaya... But don't worry, they always think about you during their missions and they bring back souvenirs from their travels!

{~} During your time at the orphanage, you've managed to meet Arlecchino herself. At first she scared you, but you soon warmed up to her! She became your parental figure during your stay at the house of the hearth after an event where she saved when you almost died. But she would never allow you out of the orphanage grounds unlike the other kids at the orphanage. You first thought it was because you were too young, but when you grew up she still didn't allow you to leave whether it's for missions or just walking around. Whenever you asked she would answer by saying, "It's for your safety. The world is a harsh place." or something similar to that...

{~} This made you grow up as a rather sheltered kid compared to most others your age. You learned about the outside world by books, newspapers, and gifts that were brought back by the others in the orphanage. You also have very little knowledge about fashion due to always wearing uniforms provided by the orphanage.

{~} One day, you were introduced to a new addition to the orphanage. He introduced himself as Freminet as he hid behind Arlecchino. She wanted you to welcome him to the orphanage because the two of you are the same age. At first he was rather shy and quiet around others, he still is but now he doesn't run away the moment someone goes near him. You would talk and hang out with him during the first few weeks of his stay, but he would always hide from you...

{~} This one time, you were walking around the orphanage in search of Freminet to play with you as usual. You did manage to find him, but he was surrounded by other kids that were all older than him. From what you heard from afar, they were talking about him. And not the nice type of talking, more like the harassing kind. So as a young kid with a naive mind you went up to the group and confronted them head on.

{~} ... It didn't go well. You ended up fighting with most of the kids while the others ran to find Arlecchino or because they were scared. After Arlecchino came, she sent all the kids (including you) to her office. In the end, after asking the bystanders and witnesses you got off with only a long lecture while most of the other kids got lectured and were given more chores to do. When you left Arlecchino's office, Freminet went over to you and hugged you, thanking you for helping him. Since that incident you and Freminet had gotten closer up to the point he would follow you around like a lost puppy.

{~} On one afternoon, Lyney and Lynette came back from one of their missions. They also brought some souvenirs back from Fontaine for you. Lyney handed you their souvenir, it is a voice recording of a popular idol from Fontaine singing their most popular song. You would love to listen to it and you really treasured it. A few days later, you were playing with the twins and Freminet when you excitedly announced that you want to be an idol or performer when you grow up.

{~} They were very supportive of your dreams, Lyney and Lynette offered to teach you some tricks for when you're performing so you don't get nervous on stage. Lyney had also invited you to come to one of their performances in the future! When you told Arlecchino, she seemed supportive of this idea as well. So after all that, you began practicing with the help of Lyney and Lynette with Freminet and Arlecchino who would occasionally drop by and watch you practice.

{~} When you turned 15, Arlecchino finally gave you your first mission (you kept on begging her) with the twins and Freminet in Fontaine. The mission was rather easy, 'perform a show as your 'debut' as a performer to prepare for future missions', you were still excited nonetheless!

{~} When you, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet arrived at Fontaine you were in awe by the atmosphere of the said nation. Compared to Snezhnaya, Fontaine was more welcoming and peaceful especially with way less snow and blizzards. Your group split up to find a place to stay, so while Lynette and Freminet search for an inn you and Lyney would go explore together.

{~} After a while, you managed to get separated from Lyney. While searching for him you decided to ask some people nearby. The second you asked they started to give weird looks to you, narrowing their eyes as you spoke. You, who noticed this, started to get more and more nervous. They answered you by saying that they haven't seen Lyney. When you were far enough they started to talk amongst themselves, mainly about you and your weird accent. It wasn't much of a problem for you back at the house of the hearth because of the kids' innocent minds, but now that you're in a whole different nation with a lot of judging people, you start to feel somewhat insecure...

{~} Thankfully, Lyney had found you accompanied by Lynette and Freminet trailing behind him. "Ahah! There you are! We were so worried, where did you go?" He questioned. "Now, now, it was your fault that you two got separated." Lynette commented in a rather harsh tone. "Anyways, we found a suitable inn to stay at." She added.

{~} Although that incident happened a long time ago, you still found their words ingraved in your head. Now ever since you started your 'career' as a performer, people have grown to like your accent. But you still have problems accepting it...

{~} In present times, you are a famous performer in Fontaine and other regions. So it's only natural to have performed in front of many important and known figures from many different nations. But today's performance makes you feel nervous... Why you ask? It's because you're gonna perform for the monsieur Neuvillette and hydro archon herself along with a few more important people! Usually Lyney and Lynette would do these, but it seems that they want you to perform instead....

{~} It went smoothly, as usual. The crowd was cheering, the guests were happy, and you did a job well done! After the show the hydro archon, Furina, had approached you to congrat you on a good show while Neuvillette had given you a nod and a faint smile. You were happy of course, but there was a bad feeling that you couldn't really shake off from them...

{~} During your stay at Fontaine you have met many incredible and nice people! Such as Navia the president of the Spina di Rosula who would always invite you to tea parties with her to talk about your day, Clorinde the hydro archon's personal bodyguard that would help you out with security during your performances, or Chiori the fashion designer from Inazuma who likes to make you dress up from time to time. Over time, you had also managed to get closer to the hydro archon, melusines and Neuvillette. Although being somewhat close with them, you still continue to get a bad feeling from them.

{~} There was a certain incident that had happened a while back where during one of your shows a person from your audience made a remark on how you have a strong accent and how it ruined the whole performance. When you went to talk to the people who said that earlier it is as if they just went POOF! Cause it was like they just... vanished... Until a few days later where their bodies were found, looking so disfigured that they could only be identified by their outfit.

(TIMESKIP TO AFTER THE ARCHON QUEST CAUSE I'M STARTING TO GET LAZY)

{~} Over time you have managed to see the fountain cast as your 'found family' and they seem to see you in the same light! But day by day the amount of missing people cases has increased up to the point your 'family' starts talking about how dangerous it is and how you should just stay with them for the time being.

{~} Maybe they are right. You shouldn't worry much about people whom you barely know and spend time with your friends and 'family' instead! Things have been going great, the culprit is almost found and you get to spend time with the people you love without being worried. Isn't that just nice? Well... that is until a renowned detective from Inazuma comes to help in the case...

A/N: AHHHH....! I hate tests... This will probably be my last post before going inactive for a while.... Sorry for the rushed ending, feel free to leave the rest up to your imagination!