#the fear of rejection is real here
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Yes I am this way on all platforms and have several content creators I wanna be friends with, but the thought of me taking the lead to message them kills me
I've done it once before and after we talked once they never messaged me back so now I don't do it anymore 😭😭😭 it's like soul crushingly awkward
Do you ever become mutuals with someone you share an intense interest with and it becomes this limbo of "I want to be your friend SO fucking bad but I'll eat a shoe before dm-ing first"
#f in the chat#hey i posted for once!#i follow several undertale accounts and i like all their posts but catch me never messaging them!#same with lego monkie kid#and mass effect#i just don't message anyone i guess lol#the fear of rejection is real here#worst nightmare is getting blocked cause they don't like me#oh and overwatch too!#im rambling in the tags now since no one will read them
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Station: Nightingale
Nightcord at 25:00 Adjacent Music Circle
A group of online users that uses the app Nightcord to communicate in order to create songs that can hopefully save someone and maybe even themselves
Kanade Yoisaki (K) - Composer. Blames herself for what happened to her dad, and so has cursed herself to create songs that will save people.
Tenma Saki (Nozomi) - Lyricist. Spent her Middle School years in hospital where she found K’s music and started writing lyrics to the songs. She hopes that her lyrics will speak and reach out to people.
Kamishiro Rui (Chrono) - MV Creator. Ostracized due to his eccentrics, Rui started attending night school to avoid his old classmates and spends all his free time creating Music Videos from his heart to try to get his feelings out.
Aoyagi Toya (Yato) - Arrangements. Wanted to escape Classical Music by any means and try to find his own sound and so one night came across K’s music as was mesmerized by it and the feeling it gave him so attempted to chase it by making his own arrangement of the song
SEKAI: Train Station SEKAI
Consists of a train station platform and a steam train with as many carriages as the eye can see.
The station itself seems to be located in the middles of an expansive field and is perpetually dark, only lit up by the stars in the sky and the stations lights.
Each carriage layout is identical to the next and despite how far down they go down the train, if they wish to exit, the door will immediately take them back to the platform.
Luggage and bags seem to dot around the platform and in the carriages.
First Virtual Singers
Hatsune Miku - Train Conductor. Isn’t necessarily very talkative but can be found humming or singing songs quietly. She offers a quiet and calm presence that makes the others feel welcoming. She assures that they are all safe on this train.
MEIKO - Passenger. Can almost always be found sitting on of the the benches on the platform with a bag. Similar to Miku, she offers a welcoming presence and is always willing to listen and give advice to the others, though she tends to act a bit aloof. She assures them that is fine to be themselves here and that there is no rush, the train will still be here for them when they are ready to depart.
Virtual Singers
Order of Appearance (StC)
Kagamine Len - Runaway. Is always caught hiding behind pillars of the station, or slouched deep into a chair in the carriages. He arrived on the train without a ticket and is scared of the ticket inspector (KAITO) finding him, so whenever he sees KAITO, he bolts the other way or quickly hides. He explains that he is on this train because he wants to get away and chase his own dreams which really resonates with Toya and slightly with Rui.
Kagamine Rin - Train Employee. Rin is always bursting with ideas on how to improve the station and the train itself. She is always covered in paint and dirt and is always carrying around tools and paint brushes with her. Some carriages of the train seem to be victims of her creative outbursts. The other virtual singers seem used to her eccentrics but don’t seem bothered by it and in fact actually encourage it.
Megurine Luka - Passenger? Luka isn’t seen very often in the SEKAI and mainly only appears when the group is ready to release a new song. She always warns of rejection and failure, saying “that this song also might not save anyone, or it won’t reach those it needs to reach. Are you prepared for that?” The group is normally hesitant after she says that but push on with their determination because even if this one fails, they’ll learn from it and the next one surely will and if not, one day a song will. Luka tends to specifically pick on Kanade, testing her determination.
KAITO - Ticket Inspector. Seems scary and strict but is actually exceptionally kind and is always ready to bring a bright atmosphere to the station. He jokes with the group and cares for them in a type of father figure way. He tells the group that whilst it’s always important to be kind, it is okay to have your own morals, if something upsets them or rubs them the wrong way, they don’t need to just smile and brush it off, it’s okay to say “I’m not okay with that.” In the same way he handles his job, he understands that some people can’t afford a ticket but he can’t just let anyone on board.
Subject to Change as I go on figuring out this AU more.
#project sekai#pjsk#pjsk au#pjsk unit shuffle au#my posts#parade unit shuffle#station nightingale#im so silly about this group#but i had a lot of trouble with them initially#they had a few SEKAI ideas but then i decided i really wanted to use a train and then BOOM here we are#also the units outfit purposely arent supposed to match#their whole thing is that its okay to be themselves and express themselves#also the VS being a mix of people also somewhat represent that#however rui's design is also in turn purposely not fully “him” as he is still repressing that side of him due to fear of rejection#ALSO TOYA TENMA IS VERY REAL AND MAKES THIS A LIL FUNNY#SAKI AND TOYA MAKING MUSIC TOGETHER FOR 2-ISH YEARS NOT KNOWING WHO THIS OTHER BITCH IS BUT DEF FEELS SOMETHING FAMILIAR WITH THE OTHER#AND THEN THEY MEET FOR THE “FIRST TIME” IN THE SEKAI AND ITS JSUT THE SPIDERMAN POINTING MEME LIKE#“OH SHIT??? MY BROTHER/SISTER THAT I HAVENT SEEN IN YEARS????”#intertwined paths (shuffle au)
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biting and killing and biting and killing
#just need to vent a little. here we are in the tags as per usual.#SO my avoidance of people has gotten A Lot Worse Lately#and my severe fear of rejection is making it so i can't even mention i got tickets to a concert some of my friend are going to in our gc#because i feel like that's Wrong and Bad and will make me Evil if i do it#because i'm stealing attention and manipulating them into spending time with me#which i can recognise is. a bit of an irrational response.#but i'm just SO FRUSTRATED with myself#i haven't told like half of my friends i'm moving in two weeks because i haven't seen them irl#and whenever i talk to people in real life i chronically overshare and cannot force myself to shut up and it's BAD#no matter what way i do it i always end up doing it wrong#i just want to Connect with people and Be with them but i can't do it!!!!#my social anxiety is still So Bad and i'm beginning to think it may be a part of a bigger issue#i've been questioning having avpd (avoidant personality disorder) for a while and i'm gonna talk to my therapist about it when i see him#because i have been Repeatedly Validated that it is Okay to talk to my friends but i physically can't do it without having a panic attack#and that!!! is something i want help with!!! because it feels bad!!! but i can't Reach Out!!!!!!!!!!!!#luckily i have plans to see a lot of them irl on wednesday so hopefully i can talk about some of this stuff then#but until then i just have to exist in my silly little isolation purgatory#at least i'm rewatching rvd and it's so good. currently on killing thee mr honey#i think i will go get a little snack and keep watching my show and do some uquizzes and then try to sleep#i had like a 3 hour nap today so it's okay to be up a little late#this has fully just turned into me journalling but it's okay this is my blog
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A very useful thread on Bluesky:
(There is a lot more. Rather than give you all the images, I've copied the full text below.)
Meredith Rose @mrose.ink November 8, 2024
This is not going to be a repeat of 2016-2020. It will be better, it will be worse, but most of all it will be different. Here are things I want every single person to keep in mind as we head into round 2 of a Trump admin.
My credentials: I’m a queer female public interest attorney working on tech policy in DC. I’ve been doing this for a decade--longer than some, not as long as others. I had to navigate three different administrations, as well as Congress, regulatory agencies, courts, and the advocacy world.
FIRST: don’t let despair override your media literacy.
The left has grifters, just like every other movement. If you’re able and compelled to donate, give to orgs with established track records. Avoid giving to individuals, especially anyone who emerges overnight with a one-weird-trick “plan.”
The left is not immune to misinformation, and everyone—EVERYONE—falls for it sometimes, present company included. There is no shame in it. When (not if) it happens to you, you should acknowledge it; delete or retract the post to reduce the spread; and move on.
If a source consistently shares half-truths or outright misinformation, it is not trustworthy, no matter how much “their heart is in the right place.” Unfollow and move on.
Prediction, analysis, and reporting are three fundamentally different things. Learn to identify them for what they are. Reject attempts by amateur “analysts” to predict the future. They know as much as you do.
Real subject matter experts know and acknowledge their limits. They’re also (usually) hesitant to try and predict the future. The best frame their predictions in terms of a range of possible outcomes. Subject matter experts may also disagree with one another! It happens!
SECOND: What we know for sure about how the Trump, how he operates, and how that will impact the next four years.
Trump is a narcissist who avoids reading and doesn’t care about details. He cannot be persuaded by argument or logic; he’s moved mostly by flattery, and will agree with the last person who flattered him. He can and will upend his own administration’s work without warning, often by tweet.
As a result, most policy experts—even those "on his side"—dread him taking an interest in their field. Ask any Republican staffer who worked in Congress during the last administration, and most of them will confirm that their greatest fear was Trump tweeting about anything related to their work.
As such, people who are serious about their work will do everything to make it as invisible and boring-seeming as possible. This is the policy equivalent of defensive camouflage. Lots of “normie” work will continue in silence. (The lion’s share of tech policy ends up in this bucket.)
If you have a niche issue that you care about, now is a great time to donate to orgs that work on it. Lots of money will be funneled to big legacy orgs working on headline issues: ACLU, climate change orgs, etc. Consider sending your donations where they matter most: local, niche, established.
Trump runs his cabinet like the Apprentice. He thrives on chaos and making people compete for his approval. Not only does he not reward collaboration between his subordinates, he actively undermines it.
Moreover, everyone who works with him knows that they’re vulnerable to being thrown under the bus at a moment’s notice, for any reason (or for no reason at all). His cabinet is going to be scorpions in a bottle. They will not be able to coordinate, for good or ill.
One scorpion can still do a lot of horrific damage. But large scale inter-agency coordination is unlikely, particularly after the first few months, by which point he will likely (prediction warning!) have gone through a handful of cabinet secretaries already.
FINALLY: The view from inside civil society heading into 2025.
In 2016, Trump was a largely unknown quantity. The left and establishment right alike wasted a lot of time trying to read tea leaves and make sense of this guy, because he was completely outside the realm of what anyone had dealt with. That’s not happening now.
He did us a favor by broadcasting his plans in advance (aka Project 2025). Civil society has spent the last 2.5 years strategizing around it. We’re not starting off flat-footed.
The Biden admin did a good amount to future-proof its own achievements. Folks can speak to their own areas of expertise, but clean energy and CHIPS and Science Act (investing in domestic semiconductor production) have benefitted from huge sunk investments. That money’s not getting clawed back.
OVERALL TAKE-AWAYS:
It's going to suck. But civil society and the political left have some advantages we didn't have last time. We know him, we know his angles, and we know who he's bringing in--none of which we had in 2016.
We'll get through this. It will be grim, but we'll get through it.
John Cutting @johncutting.bsky.social
Thanks Meredith. I really valued your analysis over the past few years, and I think this is a reasonable, actionable framework to think about the upcoming storm
Meredith Rose @mrose.ink
I really cannot overstate how much time was (necessarily) wasted in 2017 trying to figure out this guy and his influences. The fact that he's not only a known quantity, but ran the most over-studied administration in this nation's recent history, makes this a very different game.
John Cutting @johncutting.bsky.social
I bet we can weaponize his narcissism. Let's say some ghoul starts making progress with a mass deportation effort, if we start calling that ghoul that "shadow president" en masse, Trump would fire him in right away and appoint Hulk Hogan or something
Meredith Rose @mrose.ink
This is exactly why I don't think Musk will last very long. Trump is very clear that he's the only one in the room allowed to have an ego or any kind of brand name.
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This is a dangerous sentiment for me to express, as an editor who spends most of my working life telling writers to knock it off with the 45-word sentences and the adverbs and tortured metaphors, but I do think we're living through a period of weird pragmatic puritanism in mainstream literary taste.
e.g. I keep seeing people talk about 'purple prose' when they actually mean 'the writer uses vivid and/or metaphorical descriptive language'. I've seen people who present themselves as educators offer some of the best genre writing in western canon as examples of 'purple prose' because it engages strategically in prose-poetry to evoke mood and I guess that's sheer decadence when you could instead say "it was dark and scary outside". But that's not what purple prose means. Purple means the construction of the prose itself gets in the way of conveying meaning. mid-00s horse RPers know what I'm talking about. Cerulean orbs flash'd fire as they turn'd 'pon rollforth land, yonder horizonways. <= if I had to read this when I was 12, you don't get to call Ray Bradbury's prose 'purple'.
I griped on here recently about the prepossession with fictional characters in fictional narratives behaving 'rationally' and 'realistically' as if the sole purpose of a made-up story is to convince you it could have happened. No wonder the epistolary form is having a tumblr renaissance. One million billion arguments and thought experiments about The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas that almost all evade the point of the story: that you can't wriggle out of it. The narrator is telling you how it was, is and will be, and you must confront the dissonances it evokes and digest your discomfort. 'Realistic' begins on the author's terms, that's what gives them the power to reach into your brain and fiddle about until sparks happen. You kind of have to trust the process a little bit.
This ultra-orthodox attitude to writing shares a lot of common ground with the tight, tight commodification of art in online spaces. And I mean commodification in the truest sense - the reconstruction of the thing to maximise its capacity to interface with markets. Form and function are overwhelmingly privileged over cloudy ideas like meaning, intent and possibility, because you can apply a sliding value scale to the material aspects of a work. But you can't charge extra for 'more challenging conceptual response to the milieu' in a commission drive. So that shit becomes vestigial. It isn't valued, it isn't taught, so eventually it isn't sought out. At best it's mystified as part of a given writer/artist's 'talent', but either way it grows incumbent on the individual to care enough about that kind of skill to cultivate it.
And it's risky, because unmeasurables come with the possibility of rejection or failure. Drop in too many allegorical descriptions of the rose garden and someone will decide your prose is 'purple' and unserious. A lot of online audiences seem to be terrified of being considered pretentious in their tastes. That creates a real unwillingness to step out into discursive spaces where you 🫵 are expected to develop and explore a personal relationship with each element of a work. No guard rails, no right answers. Word of god is shit to us out here. But fear of getting that kind of analysis wrong makes people hove to work that slavishly explains itself on every page. And I'm left wondering, what's the point of art that leads every single participant to the same conclusion? See Spot run. Run, Spot, run. Down the rollforth land, yonder horizonways. I just want to read more weird stuff.
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idk how or when i got 700 followers but cool and hi i guess
#why are you here#im literally just here yelling#i was at like 200 last i checked#gotta be a lot of bots bc idk#its just that i hate this website so i dont understand how theres a portion of this website that wants to follow me#either its bots or cowards taking screenshots of my posts w/o saying shit to me directly#or ig the rare few of people that genuinely like me ???????????????????????????????#but qhy#i am starting to get anxiety about this revelation. i fear power.#one of the worst fates i'd hate to fall unto me is becoming powerful and misusing it. becoming what i hate.#so i try to push power away all the time. its why im so nasty on here dsjhbvdhgfbs im trying to get people to HATE ME#pls dont do this. i Will just hide away from humanity if i have to#*begins stabbing in the air violently in all directions as if trying to fight off a very quick small ghost*#yelling on the internet about your problems is all fun and games until ppl actually follow u and start to like u and become somewhat#swayed by what you say through no real attempt of your own and thn its a decision if you're going to let a drunkenness for that power to#over take you or reject it like the hideous manipulative shit it is#and then i end up deleting my social media accounts for a while bc the responsibility of power is too overwhelming and it keeps#trying to fucking come bACk to me and i DONT FUCKIN WANT IT#google how do i make people hate me and unfollow me so things can go back to normal and i can be a nobody yelling online#people who are following me and especially young people listen up: you do not have to be like me or do anything like me#you can be disgusted or annoyed with some of the ways i operate and generally like me anyways#dont feel pressured to do anything i say ever im yelling to what i was hoping was the void but ended up being 700 entire people#im literally just some guy who sits inside and thinks all day and likes to garden and do art sometimes and im only 26#i am not someone who knows everything or anything like that i share from my own experiences and thats it#and i am not always correct on anything ever and im always open to being wrong and i especially love it when people ACTUALLY#directly point out to me when im wrong and correct me and please oh god please do not try to be like me sdfbhfsdvhgfsdhgc#you are your own person with your own life i can be a guy you look at and be like 'how can i be more like or less like this dumpster fire#of a man' but dont be like me in every way or think like me in every way just dont please have your own opinions#okay im glad i got that off my chest sdnjfsdhvgsdhvgfhvgfsd#also if you're a minor you SHOULDNT be following me anyways
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Textual Tension
Summary: You accidentally send a very suggestive text to your awkward coworker, and he replies...
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: smut (18+), fluff
Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, awkward tension
Word count: 6.1k
a/n: has anyone ever sent a sext to the wrong person?? i've only ever sent them to my friends on accident and for that i am so thankful
main masterlist
Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), mild breast play, soft dom spencer
You sit on your bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face as you type out a rather suggestive message to the person you've been casually hooking up with. A smirk tugs at your lips as you hit send, confident that the message will hit its mark.
I've been thinking about you… Can't stop imagining what I'd do if you were here right now. I want to feel your hands all over me, the way you’d make me moan… Let’s make fantasy a reality?
But within seconds, your heart stops as you realize the terrible mistake you've just made.
You’ve sent the message to Spencer.
Spencer.
Your coworker. The brilliant, kind, and awkwardly charming genius who you’ve always had a friendly, professional relationship with. And, of course, the one who has been harboring a massive, secret crush on you. A fact that, unbeknownst to you, has led to countless daydreams and wishes that you might feel the same.
The blood drains from your face as you stare at your phone, horrified, praying that somehow the message didn’t actually go through, or maybe, just maybe, Spencer won’t read it and will simply delete it. But you know better—Spencer is meticulous about everything. Of course, he’ll read it. You’re absolutely mortified, every worst-case scenario flashing through your mind.
Meanwhile, in his apartment, Spencer is settling down with a cup of tea, ready to dive into the book he’s been reading. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up absentmindedly, assuming it’s just a work-related message or something mundane. But as he reads the words on the screen, his eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat.
His thoughts run wild, heart pounding as he rereads the text, each time wondering if it could possibly be real. Could you, the person he’s admired from afar for so long, actually want him in the way he’s secretly yearned for? The idea is intoxicating, and before he can second-guess himself, he responds with a message that matches your energy, his pulse quickening at the boldness of it.
Wow… I didn’t know you were into me like that. I’ve been thinking about you too. If you want, we can definitely make that happen.
The moment you see his reply, your stomach drops. You can't believe this is happening. You’re completely mortified, your mind spinning with the implications. How could you ever face him again? You don’t respond, the fear and embarrassment paralyzing you, leaving you in a state of panic.
The next day at work, you’re a bundle of nerves. Every step you take towards the bullpen feels like you’re walking to your own doom. When you finally arrive, you try to act normal, but the tension is palpable. You can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with Spencer, every interaction feeling like it’s laced with the humiliation of last night’s mistake.
Spencer, on the other hand, is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. At first, he’s elated, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you were into him. But as the day drags on and you remain distant, the excitement turns to confusion, then a sharp sting of rejection. Did he misread the situation? Was it all just a mistake? He’s left feeling awkward and exposed, unsure of where he stands with you now.
—
The tension between you and Spencer had become a nearly tangible thing, a thread pulled taut between the two of you, ready to snap at any moment. At first, your glances in his direction were purely out of necessity—quick, fleeting looks to gauge his mood, to see if he was as affected by this as you were. But as the days passed, those glances became more frequent, more lingering.
It started innocently enough. You’d look over and notice how effortlessly his hair seemed to fall into place, the soft waves framing his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal. You’d never paid much attention before, but now you couldn’t help but admire how it suited him, how it added to his charm.
Then, it was his forearms. You’d catch him pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, revealing the sinewy strength beneath the fabric. There was something about the casual way he did it, the way the muscles in his arms flexed ever so slightly as he worked, that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple thing, but it had a profound effect on you, stirring something deep within.
And then there was the way he licked his lips when he was focused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he concentrated on whatever task was in front of him. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his attention focused solely on you, to feel the intensity of that gaze as he looked at you, not with confusion or uncertainty, but with desire.
The more you noticed these little things, the more conflicted you became. This was Spencer—sweet, brilliant, and awkward Spencer. The idea of seeing him in a different light had never really crossed your mind before, but now… now it was all you could think about. The memory of his bold response to your accidental text played on a loop in your mind, taunting you with the possibilities.
What if you responded? What if you stopped overthinking everything and just… saw where it could go? The idea terrified you, but it also excited you in a way you hadn’t expected. There was something thrilling about the thought of exploring this new dynamic, of seeing if there was something more between you and Spencer than just a shared workspace.
You found yourself daydreaming about it, wondering how he would react if you sent him a message, if you matched the energy of his reply. Would he be as nervous as you were, or would he surprise you with a confidence you hadn’t seen before? The thought of it made your pulse quicken, a flush of warmth spreading through you.
But with the excitement came doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were reading too much into things, and responding to his text would only make the situation worse? The fear of making things awkward again, of possibly ruining your work life further, held you back. Yet, the thought of doing nothing felt like a missed opportunity, like you were letting something potentially amazing slip through your fingers.
As the day dragged on, you found it harder and harder to focus on your work. Every time you saw Spencer, every time you noticed another little detail about him that you hadn’t before, the urge to reach out grew stronger. It was like there was a tug-of-war going on inside you, with one side urging you to take the risk and see what could happen, and the other holding you back out of fear.
Finally, as the workday was winding down, you made a decision. Maybe you were overthinking this—maybe it was time to just go for it and see what came of it. After all, Spencer had responded positively, hadn’t he? There was a chance, a real chance, that he felt something for you too, something more than just a workplace friendship.
Sitting on your couch with your heart pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you debated what to say. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be vague. After a few moments of contemplation, you typed out a message, your hands trembling slightly as you reread it.
Hey, about that text… Maybe we should talk. Or… you know, not just talk. If you’re still interested.
You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as you watched the message deliver. There was no going back now.
The rest of the evening was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. You couldn’t stop thinking about what his response might be, what it could mean for the two of you. When your phone finally buzzed with a new message, you hesitated for just a moment before opening it.
I’m definitely interested. Let’s talk… or not just talk, whenever you’re ready.
The words were simple, but they held so much promise. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you read them, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding your senses. This was happening. You and Spencer were about to cross a line, to explore something new and thrilling.
Just as you were contemplating what to say, how to navigate this sudden and unexpected turn in your relationship, another notification lit up your screen.
Come over? Now?
The message was short, simple, and completely electrifying. It sent a jolt through your system, leaving you momentarily speechless. The implications of it were clear—Spencer wasn’t just thinking about this; he was ready to act on it, to turn this accidental confession into something real and immediate.
Your mind raced as you considered what to do next. Just minutes ago, you were agonizing over whether or not to even respond, and now he was inviting you over, as if the decision had already been made. The sheer boldness of his message left you breathless, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.
You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like—showing up at his place, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all day. The thought of being alone with him, of crossing that line from coworkers to something more, sent a thrill through you.
You took a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was a pivotal moment, and whatever you decided now would set the course for what happened next.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you typed out a response, your heart racing as you hit send.
I'll be there in 20 minutes.
—
You parked outside Spencer’s apartment building, your heart racing as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. The 20-minute drive had been filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—excitement, anticipation, and a lingering thread of uncertainty. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect when you arrived, especially considering how different Spencer had seemed over text compared to how he usually was in person. The Spencer you knew was shy, adorably awkward, and hesitant when it came to personal matters. But his texts had shown a side of him that was bold, confident, and unafraid to take charge.
As you approached his door, your nerves started to get the better of you, but there was no turning back now. You lifted your hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally letting your knuckles rap against the wood. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, your mind racing with possibilities of how this night could unfold.
When the door finally opened, you were taken aback by the sight that greeted you. Spencer stood there, shirtless, the soft glow of his apartment’s light highlighting the lean lines of his torso. He wore nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants, the waistband slung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles and trail of hair beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it moments before opening the door, and his eyes, usually filled with a mix of curiosity and gentle kindness, now held a smoldering intensity that you had never seen before.
For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. This wasn’t the Spencer you were used to—this was the man who had responded to your accidental text with a confidence that had both surprised and intrigued you. The awkward, hesitant Spencer you knew seemed to have taken a backseat, making way for someone who knew exactly what he wanted.
And what he wanted, it seemed, was you.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. There was a heat in his gaze, a silent challenge that dared you to step inside, to see just how far this newfound confidence could take him.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad you came.”
You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there like that—so effortlessly confident, so unapologetically enticing—made it difficult to think of anything but the rush of desire that was quickly building within you.
“Hey,” you managed to reply, your voice a little breathless. “You… uh, look different.”
Spencer’s smile widened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped aside to let you in. “Well I should hope so,” he said, his tone teasing, but with an underlying seriousness that sent your heart racing even faster.
You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of his apartment wrap around you as the door clicked shut behind you. The atmosphere between you was charged, electric, every moment filled with unspoken possibilities. Spencer moved closer, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scent of him—a mix of something clean and masculine—filled your senses, making you even more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his skin.
“I’ve been thinking,” Spencer began, his voice soft yet steady, as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “About what was said...”
Your breath hitched at the light touch, your skin tingling where his fingers had just been. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that your voice might betray just how much his presence was affecting you.
“I don’t want this to be awkward,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “But I also don’t want to pretend that nothing’s changed… because it has.”
He was right—everything had changed. The air between you was thick with tension, with the unspoken acknowledgment of what you both wanted but were too nervous to voice. And yet, here he was, standing so close, shirtless and confident, laying it all out in front of you.
Taking a deep breath, you finally found your voice. “So… what happens next?”
Spencer’s lips quirked up into a small, almost mischievous smile. “I think that depends on what you want.”
His words hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation all at once. You could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction drawing you closer to him, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.
With a boldness you hadn’t known you possessed, you stepped even closer, your body nearly brushing against his as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “I want to find out what happens when we stop pretending.”
The last remnants of hesitation melted away as Spencer’s smile turned into something more—something hungry and determined. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips descended on yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was fierce, consuming, a release of all the tension that had been building between you.
As his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer still, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you had only begun to scratch the surface of the side of Spencer Reid you were about to discover tonight.
The world around you blurred as Spencer’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with every passing second. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the way his hands gripped your waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. It felt like you had been kissing for an eternity, and yet when he finally pulled back, you found yourself gasping for breath, your mind spinning, and your body aching for more.
Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken. Without saying a word, he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you down the hall towards his bedroom. The anticipation thrummed in your veins, every step heightening the tension between you. But just as you reached the doorway, Spencer suddenly stopped, turning to press you against the doorframe. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses that made your knees weaken and your breath hitch.
You barely had time to process the sensation before he pulled back again, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gently but firmly guided you into the bedroom. With a swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed, and you bounced slightly, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. The unexpected shift in his demeanor—this newfound confidence, this playful dominance—left you both intrigued and a little off-balance. You’d known Spencer as the quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy genius, but this side of him was something entirely different, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by it.
As you lay there, still trying to wrap your head around this change, you found yourself blurting out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot, Reid?”
Spencer chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. He shook his head with a smile that was equal parts reassuring and teasing. “No, not ever really,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady, as he reached for your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment.
“Call me Spencer,” he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was something intimate about the way he said it, as if this wasn’t just about physical attraction, but about letting you see a side of him that no one else had.
Your heart skipped a beat at the request, the simple act of calling him by his first name in this context making the moment feel even more personal, more real.
“Spencer,” you repeated, the name slipping from your lips like a secret, a promise. His smile widened, a spark of something almost wicked flashing in his eyes, and you realized that you were about to discover a side of him that you’d never imagined existed.
Spencer leaned in, his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time, you know. I just never thought…” He trailed off, as if realizing that words weren’t enough to express what he was feeling. Instead, he captured your lips with his again, his kiss searing and insistent, as though he were making up for lost time.
Spencer's hands, warm and steady, slowly trailed up your sides, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your t-shirt as they moved. When he reached the hem, he hesitated, his touch gentle but deliberate as he curled his fingers around the edge. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness, but there was something else too—a careful consideration, a need to ensure that you were just as willing as he was.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his eyes searching yours for the reassurance he needed.
For a moment, you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he looked at you, with such raw want and yet so much care, made it hard to think clearly. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide with anticipation, but Spencer didn’t move.
His grip on your shirt tightened slightly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to need you to use your words, sweetheart.”
The way he said it—his voice rough, almost gritted out with barely restrained desire—made your head spin, the sheer force of his need for you sending your pulse into overdrive. There was a command in his tone, but also a gentle reminder that this was your choice, that he needed to hear you say it.
You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to find the words. The air around you felt thick with tension, every second stretching out as you stared up at him, the look in his eyes making it impossible to deny him—or yourself.
“Ye—yes, please,” you finally managed to say, your voice a little breathless, but full of the same want that you saw reflected in his eyes.
Spencer’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at your response, a small, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to lift your shirt. The fabric slid up your torso slowly, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as he revealed more of you. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.
For a brief moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. But the way Spencer looked at you, with a mixture of awe and hunger, made all your insecurities melt away. His hands roamed over the newly exposed skin, his touch both soothing and electrifying, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and desire, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your collarbone, his lips lingering against your skin.
You had forgone a bra that night, thinking nothing of it when you slipped into your comfy clothes after a long day at work. After all, you hadn’t planned on anything like this happening. But now, with Spencer’s hands on you, his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like awe, you found that you didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, it added to the intimacy of the moment, the rawness of it, making you feel closer to him than you ever thought possible.
His touch was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction he elicited from you. His fingers brushed over your skin, exploring you with curiosity and desire, as if he was trying to learn every detail, every response, to what he was doing. When his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body arching towards him instinctively, craving more of his touch.
“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it felt like a confession. There was something in his name, in the way it rolled off your tongue, that made the moment feel even more intimate, more real. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was a declaration, an acknowledgment of what was happening between you, of the connection that was quickly forming.
Spencer’s eyes flicked back up to yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. There was something almost primal in the way he looked at you now, a hunger that was barely restrained, but also a tenderness that made your chest tighten with emotion. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… how long I’ve wanted you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the sheer weight of them. It wasn’t just lust in his voice—it was something deeper, something that made you feel cherished, desired in a way that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The realization that Spencer had been holding back, that he had wanted you for so long, made your heart swell with emotion, your need for him growing even stronger.
He kissed you again, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both gentle and demanding, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. Each touch, each caress, was filled with passion and care, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him without needing to say the words. And with every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, you found yourself falling deeper into the moment, your own desire for him becoming overwhelming.
You reached up, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he responded, the way his hands gripped you tighter, as if afraid to let go, made it clear that he was just as lost in the moment as you were. There was no more hesitation, no more awkwardness—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
Spencer’s hands were warm against your skin as he gently laid you back on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered above you. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability. His fingers trailed down your sides, the touch sending shivers through your body as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest.
“Tell me, Y/N…” His voice was a low murmur, filled with an edge of something deeper, as he kissed his way down your chest, taking his time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his lips. “Did you think about me too?”
The question hung in the air, making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his kisses igniting a fire deep within you. Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on high alert as you felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
“I did,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless as the confession slipped out. It was the truth, after all—you had thought about him, more than you ever wanted to admit. The idea of Spencer, sweet, awkward Spencer, being the one to push you to this point had always been a secret fantasy, buried deep within you. But now, with him here, in this moment, it was no longer just a fantasy—it was real.
Spencer’s lips curved into a smirk against your skin as he reached your hip, his teeth nipping playfully at the delicate flesh, making you gasp. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and surprise, and you couldn’t help but arch your back slightly in response. His hands moved to your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he tugged them down slowly, teasingly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he did.
“That text wasn’t for me though, was it?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched your reaction. The smirk on his face was something you’d never seen before—confident, almost cocky, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.
You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. You hadn’t expected him to catch on to that detail, but of course he had—Spencer was nothing if not observant. The thought that he knew the text wasn’t meant for him, but was still here, still wanting you, made your pulse quicken even more.
“Uh, no, it wasn’t,” you admitted with a whine, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no point in lying—not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze full of heat and understanding. “But I’m glad I sent it to you,” you added quickly, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation.
Spencer’s smirk softened into a small, almost tender smile as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your navel. “Maybe your subconscious wanted you to,” he suggested, his voice low and smooth, each word making your head spin. The idea made you dizzy, the thought that some part of you had always wanted this, had always wanted him, even if you hadn’t fully realized it until now.
“Uh huh,” you breathed out, your voice floaty and airy, your mind clouded with desire. The sensation of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel—alive, wanted, and completely lost in the moment.
Spencer’s fingers continued to work on removing your shorts, sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of skin he revealed.
As he finally discarded your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and admiration. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.
The words made your heart swell, a wave of warmth washing over you as you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing left to hide now, nothing left to hold back. This was exactly where you wanted to be—where you were meant to be.
“Do you always skip out on bras and panties, Y/N?” Spencer’s teasing comment sent a ripple of laughter through you, the sound mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. The playful banter between you only intensified the electric connection that was already sparking between you both. His bite on your inner thigh was both a tease and a promise, igniting a fire that made every nerve in your body come alive.
“N–no, only at home,” you managed to scream out, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The combination of his touch and the vulnerability of the moment made it impossible to hold back any longer.
He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, echoing softly in the room as his fingers continued to explore your skin. “But you didn’t put any on before coming over?” His tone was light, yet there was an undeniable edge of desire that underpinned his words.
You took a moment to catch your breath, the playful challenge in his eyes urging you to respond. “Are you–are you complaining?” you asked, your voice wavering between breathless laughter and the growing urgency of your emotions.
Spencer shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not at all, although–” His sentence was cut short as your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him fully into you. The sudden, decisive movement left no room for hesitation, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, entwined in each other’s embrace.
“Oh my god, Spencer, just shut up,” you laughed, the sound filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Put your mouth to use.”
His response was immediate, his lips finding your core with a fervor that matched the intensity of your own longing. The way he ate you out was everything you had been waiting for—passionate, deep, and downright filthy. His hands left their place on your thighs, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made you feel both cherished and desired.
As he sunk his mouth deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, Spencer guided you gently but firmly onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you.
“Spencer,” you moaned, the name slipping out like a sacred vow, sealing the moment between you. His response was a dirty smile, his mouth shining with your juices, making your pulse throb.
He paused for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes, “You’re fucking delicious,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”
As Spencer’s mouth continued to work its magic on your core, a whirlwind of sensations overwhelmed you. Each touch, each stroke of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything but the intense feeling of being completely consumed by him. The way he moved, so skilled yet so attentive to your every reaction, left you breathless, your hands clutching at the sheets as your head swam in a sea of ecstasy.
But amidst the pleasure, a fleeting thought crossed your mind—how close you had come to letting this moment, this incredible opportunity, slip through your fingers. You couldn’t believe that you had almost dismissed the idea of responding to his bold text, that you had almost let fear and hesitation keep you from experiencing this side of Spencer. A side that was confident, passionate, and utterly devoted to your pleasure.
How could you have been so close to missing out on this? On him? Spencer, who had always been there, quiet and thoughtful, had somehow managed to unlock a part of you that you hadn’t even known existed—a part that craved the connection and intimacy he was now offering with every caress of his lips.
You let out a soft moan, your hips arching towards him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The sounds you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer, his tongue working with a precision that left you teetering on the edge. Every nerve in your body was alive, the world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you, the heat of his breath against your skin.
“Spencer,” you gasped out, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. It wasn’t just the pleasure he was giving you—it was the realization that this was Spencer, the man you had known for so long, who was now showing you a depth of care and passion that you had never imagined.
The way he responded to your every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, made you feel cherished in a way that went far beyond the physical. It was as if he was attuned to your very soul, using his touch to communicate something deeper, something that had been building between you for far longer than either of you had realized.
As you felt the tension within you coil tighter and tighter, ready to snap, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you had fallen into this moment with him. All the hesitation, the uncertainty, had melted away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Spencer. A connection that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life.
And now that it had, you knew you could never go back to the way things were. Spencer had opened a door to something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to step through it with him, no matter what the future held.
With a final, skillful flick of his tongue over your clit, Spencer sent you tumbling over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your release. The world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of pleasure and warmth, your mind barely able to process the overwhelming sensations that flooded through you.
As you came down from the high, Spencer’s hands and mouth softened, his touch becoming gentle, almost reverent, as he coaxed you through the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that left no doubt about how much this moment meant to him. He crawled up the bed to join you, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in a slow, languid kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips.
You smiled against his lips, a sense of contentment and excitement washing over you as you whispered, “I’m glad I’m here too, Spencer. So glad.”
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[The Mute Concubine]
Yandere Emperor x Female Reader: Warning: There are mentions of kidnapping, stalking, obsessive and yandere behaviors which are NOT recommended to practice in real life. Postscript: The text dividers are NOT mine, so I give credits to their respective creators.
Many years ago, Emperor Ivan ruled Zealia with a heavy hand. He had a young appearance that can be attractive to anyone who didn't know him (and even a little to those who do). He lived in his luxurious palace with his multiple wives; a group of beautiful women who had had some children for him.
Anyone would think that he had everything and couldn't want anything more, and that's what Ivan thought a long time ago despite the monotony of his life. He had a lot of money; total and absolute control over the laws of each kingdom and tribe at his disposal; beautiful women and children; good food, clothing and medicine as well as medical care.
But no, it wasn't like that. Ivan was infatuated with something again; Something was pulling him out of his dream, or rather…someone. That someone was a beautiful young woman whom he had seen during his most recent trip.
She was quite a beautiful and delicate girl, even more so than a common courtesan or prostitute. She had a face that was difficult to forget, and a smile that easily dazzled or moved anyone. She was hired to make Ivan happy during those nights of his stay, but the next morning she disappeared. He not only slept with her, but they also played board games, showing that she was quite good at these since she beat him in the vast majority of the games, which were very silent but interesting. This made him feel more interested in researching her; However, he could not find her anywhere after her return to his palace.
The emperor did not stop thinking about her, reaching the point of dreaming about her day and night. He wanted to go out to find her, but he feared for her own reputation as her ruler. While thinking, he came up with the idea of calling all the girls in his town who had the same physical characteristics as the mysterious girl who now lived in his heart.
All the girls from the town summoned to the palace, introducing themselves one by one only to be instantly rejected by Ivan. He was already starting to get bored after the long day, but he didn't want to give up. From one moment to the next, his trusted butler approaches him and says:
-Your majesty, we have found the girl you were looking for, but there is a problem…- The emperor was interested. His beloved…was she seriously here?, he couldn't believe it; he had to see it himself.
-Let her in, I want to see her.- The emperor firmly ordered. The butler made a gesture and the guards showed the girl in, and the emperor could not believe… that she was the courtesan from that time!, only dressed in a more formal or refined way. The courtesan knelt and bowed, but without saying a single word, which seemed strange to Ivan.
-So… aren't you going to tell me your name?- She was about to take out what appears to be a piece of paper from her sleeve, and just then the emperor's butler interrupts.
-Your majesty, I have tried to ask her name before, but the owner of the courtesan house told me that she is (Y/n) (Y/ln), and that she is… mute.- Ivan was surprised. He now understood why she never talked to him; She was not with bad intentions, because of bad education or because she didn't want to, but because of something that she didn't ask for at birth.
-So that was it. I like it, that awakens an aura of mystery in you that I love so much.- Ivan took her hands and carefully lifted her up. He looked at how embarrassed she was a moment ago, changing that expression to one of surprise.
From that moment on, Ivan made the mute courtesan start living in the palace with him, which made everyone look contemptuously at (Y/n), because she was a courtesan or prostitute and besides, she couldn't even speak; apart from the fact that they envied her a lot for her beauty.
This caused (Y/n) to be forced to use the emperor's hands to defend herself, in exchange for giving herself to him, a man she pretends to love in order to survive in her new environment. She cannot speak and that is true, but she has to communicate with the help of signs, servants, letters, facial expressions and even paintings. Iván loved this girl, because he was not only captivated by her mystery and high genius for board games, but also by her ability to draw and paint.
Ivan, on the other hand, was still obsessed with (Y/n). He loved spending time with her, whether sleeping with her, playing super difficult but entertaining board games, feeling like he had never felt with any of the women in her harem. For him, she is different.
She was… his mute concubine.
-The End.
#yandere#yandere oc#cw yandere#yandere love#yandere x you#yandere male#platonic yandere#tw yandere#male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere emperor x reader
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I've seen people remark on how awkward the 1967 scene is and that is so frustrating because, for me, it is one of the most emotionally resonant flashbacks in the entire series. It is so multifaceted and ripe with implication and that assertion is baffling. As though just because this conversation appears to be hard for them, it must mean that there has to be some sense of weirdness or awkwardness between them?
This scene feeds heavily into my theory that 1941 ended in some sort of aborted romantic moment between the two, most likely initiated by Crowley. Aziraphale can barely stand to look at Crowley because the very first moment he looks him in the face, he can't stop himself from giving him this hooded eyes, barely contained look of longing.
The next thing we see is Aziraphale immediately launching into a statement about his fear for Crowley's existence that is as brutally sincere as it is heartrending. His eyes are wide, his voice is heavy with emotion, and it's clear that he is terrified beyond belief to lose Crowley. Even as he acquiesces and gives him the holy water, you can see that he wants to take it back and deny him it all over again.
Then, of course, Crowley asks if he can give him a lift, which is definitely something that they both know is a totally different question than what lies on the surface, given that they're mere feet from the bookshop and at first Crowley frowns so deeply that it's almost cartoonish but a moment after Aziraphale turns him down you get this glimpse of very real sadness:
Aziraphale sees it for what it is and in an attempt to comfort him, without being able to do what currently seems impossible to him, shares a fanciful but resigned fantasy about spending time together unbothered and unrestrained, all to the tune of these tight little, loving smiles:
When he asks again, you can just see Crowley's desperation for Aziraphale not to go. It's hard to say how long they'd been apart, but it's safe to say that for them, that previous interaction likely is very fresh in their minds.
Aziraphale has always been more fearful than Crowley when it comes to their feelings for each other. You could even potentially look at the holy water as a metaphor for their relationship. In his expressions of concern about The Arrangement, Aziraphale has always been remarking on how Crowley could be destroyed, similarly to his words here. So when he's telling him, "You go too fast for me, Crowley," what he's really saying is, "I'm terribly afraid and I'm not ready to take that step if it means that I could lose you." And it's plain to see by the wistful look on his face that it pains him greatly to say it:
The scene so quickly cuts to Crowley looking intensely at the holy water after Aziraphale has left the car (as if trying to convince you that that was the real point of the scene) that it's easy to miss this devastated expression on Crowley's face:
There's no look of perceived rejection on his face. Just a somber look of resignation. There are so many barriers in front of them, and I think that Crowley was willing to risk it but understood that Aziraphale wasn't ready to.
This is the most honest and laid bare we ever see these two be when it comes to their emotions. There's so much being said without being said and even their actual words (i.e. Crowley remembering exactly the amount of time when the 'fraternizing' conversation happened) are so full of emotion that it might even be a bit hard for some people to watch.
It's not awkward. It's just that the scene is just so incredibly earnest and heavy with coded language that it's easy to be swept up by the fact that the two aren't engaged in their typical banter and bickering. What we truly have here is an incredibly difficult and loving conversation between two people who are stuck in a seemingly impossible situation.
#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#aziraphale x crowley#michael sheen#david tennant#good omens meta#abel talks meta#good omens through the ages#good omens 1967#signed by an autistic pwBPD with a penchant for over-analyizing tone and body language#anthony j crowley#you go too fast for me crowley
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★ your next glow up?
note — i wasn't gonna post this now but i figured fuck it why not?! enjoy, my loves! this is for entertainment purposes only <3 take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. p.s. come in my ask box and tell me what you think!
PILE ONE.
pile mf ONE, you are really stepping into a new era! when i tell you this new you is gonna turn HEADS. tuh, you’re gonna be looking like new money. nicki minaj’s ‘new body’ verse is coming to mind lol “you ain’t fuck me, you fucked the old body. you ain’t fuck nicki, you fucked nicole body! ain’t no miles on this here new body, off with they heads these bitches is nobody’s.” OH YEAH OKAYYY, PILE 1. maybe you’ll be hitting the gym more, switching up your diet or possibly getting some cosmetic work done?
whatever you’re doing differently, it’s gonna be noticeable. people are gonna feel like something changed with you overnight like “um when did pile 1 get so bad?” and this isn’t to say you aren’t already attractive…there’s just something about your energy and confidence that just amplified x1000 and people are really gonna feel and see this change in you. you might start experimenting with your outfits a little more, giving off a more seductive vibe. it’s like you're breaking out of your comfort zone especially if you usually opt for baggier clothes or a more conservative look. wait cause why am i thinking of ‘pretty little liars’ when emily is talking to aria about hanna and she’s like “haven’t you heard? she’s the it girl now.” PERIOD, PILE ONE. giving serena page vibes from love island.
there will be a lot of talk about you and even if you don’t hear it directly, trust me, people are gonna try to keep tabs on you. i’m seeing people re-watch your instagram stories tryna figure out who took you that place and who you’re doing it with — oh these people are spiralingggg. this could very well be potential suitors tryna scope out the scenery, but they’re not sure if you’ll be interested in them. they might fear rejection because you just look so damn good and it looks like you’re in such a better space in life and got your shit together; whereas they feel like they lack the resources/finances to be with you. these potential love interests see you as high value, pile 1. they’re intimidated by your beauty and aura. you’ll be more so focused on attracting a partner that can actually make shit happen.
you don’t have time for the cat and mouse games. you want the real deal and i do see you getting the person that you want. you manifested this person into your life and i sense them feeling like they won the lottery with you! i’m hearing that you are sooo mesmerizing on the outside and your heart & personality makes you so much more beautiful. there’s layers to you and i think this next glow up will allow you to really shine and be yourself unapologetically – you’re leaning into the different aspects of yourself that makes you unique. if there’s anything you’ve got your mind set on or something specific you want to do, go for it! whatever you do, you’ll stand out effortlessly and be successful. say yes by floetry is coming to mind. “see, i’ve been watching you for awhile…your smile and style. wanna know if i can be with you for the night, alright.” i meannnnn need i say more?!
how to tap into this energy?
listen closely to your intuition! work on your third eye because i’m hearing that you’re a powerful manifester and you don’t even truly know it. even if you do know this, you start doubting yourself and limiting your own thoughts. always think big and bigger because it’s in your reach. don’t get so caught up in the “how?” because your manifestations can appear in many different ways, not just one. you have a clear vision into the future – you just gotta adjust your lens and focus on what it is that YOU want. who cares if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, as along as you see the vision then it’s a go! listen to ‘i want it all’ by sharpay evans lol you need to embody that song and its energy.
PILE TWO.
hey, pile 2! i’m hearing you’ve been putting up with the bullshit for wayyyy too long and this next glow up is gonna be a proper FUCK YOU to all your haters! i feel like people take your kindness for weakness and you feel like you don’t get the respect you deserve. you can deal with a lot of passive aggression in your relationships or friendships and people expect for you to suck it up and be okay with it. what i’m mainly picking up is that you like to keep the peace. you don’t want to ruffle anyone’s feather, but it just makes it worse for you because you’re not truly expressing yourself and your emotions. this keeps you up at night like “ugh! i should’ve said this or I should’ve stuck up for myself and finally cussed so and so tf out.” but you don’t because you know why, pile 2? you’re better than them, simple as that.
you wouldn’t treat anybody how some people treat you, and the reality is that it’s so much harder to be nice than it is to be mean. anybody can be mean and say hurtful shit if they really wanted to, but to always be graceful and kind in the face of adversity and ignorance? rare af. +10000 aura points! don’t let anybody make you feel less than or like you can’t speak up for yourself. this next glow up you’re going to use your voice and really make it known that you are not to be fucked with, okay?! you will be standing your ground and really popping your shit in the most calm and collected way possible & people are gonna be like “wait…did [y/n] really just clock me like that?!” and you’re gonna be standing 10 toes down on it as you should. they’ll have no choice but to respect you lol. you will start to realize what is worth your time & energy and what isn’t.
you might start cutting off people that don’t mean you any good and really start to focus on yourself and your energy. no more walking on egg shells and sparing peoples feelings, this is YOUR life and you have a voice just as much as they do – so use it! i think you’ll also be meeting new friends & a potential love interest during this next glow up. i’m hearing ‘how stella got her groove back’ lol so yeah some of you might be playing the field a little bit.
some of you might just want something casual and nothing more because you just want to focus on your own healing journey. you’ll start to understand why things had to happen the way that they did & why certain relationships didn’t work out the way that you thought they would. you’ll be able to decipher what you are and aren’t willing to put up with and honestly i just see you bossing tf up and advocating for yourself no matter who doesn’t like it. that tiktok “nobody loves you baby! you should only love yourself – ON MY SOUL!” just randomly came to me lmfaooo this is your ‘i’m focusing on what really matters aka me’ era and i think it’s exactly what you need pile 2.
how to tap into this energy?
i think you need to transmute the negative energy that people try to project on you into something positive. 12:12 on the clock, yeah. like look at this way, if people doubt you, don’t respect you or don’t feel like your capable of achieving great things then use that to your advantage. let them underestimate you all they want, and then BAM boss up on them and show them who tf you are. what they don’t know only makes you stronger. you have the power to make some powerful ass connections and make a name for yourself so be calculated & strategic with your moves. people will be eating their words when it comes to you, pile 2.
PILE THREE.
pile 3 your next glow up is gonna be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster ngl, but very rewarding nonetheless. i’m hearing that one tiktok sound “you gotta take the good with the bad, smile with the sad. love what you got and remember what you had.” so yeah i think you’re really gonna be figuring out how to transmute your energy and create something from it – whether that be a job opportunity, a love offer, a trip, etc. there’s something that you really want and you’re doing the work to make it happen. you have the plan, you just need the platform lol.
for some of you, i see a major relationship coming to an end. this could be a lover or a best friend, but this person will be exposed because they’re not who you thought they were. this person has very sneaky/deceptive energy and you’ve been in the dark about this for way too long. this person/connection means a lot to you, so you will feel like this is a tough situation to completely walk away from; but my sweet pile 3’s you will be more than okay! you will be spectacular! 10:10 was just on the clock.
allow yourself to sort through your emotions and learn from the situation, don’t let it weigh you down. sometimes we get too caught up in how long we’ve been with somebody and all of the good memories we made with them, that makes us hesitant to move on. sometimes things just run its course and you’re no longer in alignment with that person. you can’t force anything or anyone in your life that doesn’t align with your highest self and that can be very hard to process when emotions are involved but i’m happy to let you know there’s light at the end of the tunnel.
i see some of you traveling to a place you’ve always wanted to go and possibly meeting a potential love interest. in this next glow up, you’ll be doing things that you’ve always wanted to do cause there’s no one holding you back. you’re stepping out of your comfort zone and just taking a leap of faith – high risk, high reward. you’re gonna be making time for yourself and also prioritizing your hobbies/interests. this is beautiful, pile 3. i see you really getting in touch with who you are at the core. be kind and gentle with yourself, because you are a precious gem that a lot of people value and care about.
how to tap into this energy?
stop giving your power away. work on your throat chakra, my loves. your voice is your power and it’s one of the major keys to your success. a closed mouth doesn’t get fed, so you need to speak up and communicate what it is that YOU want and not just say what people want to hear. this next glow up will really have you standing in your power. release is needed especially verbally cause you know that tight feeling you get in your throat when you’re tryna stop yourself from crying? yeah no more of that. no more walking on egg shells, pile 3. say what you feel and stand on it & watch how the tides turn in your favor. mwah!
PILE FOUR.
alright, pile 4! for this next glow up i see you moving. some of you might actually be moving into a new home or apartment and it’s gonna grant you so much peace and comfort. for others of you, this could be you moving on emotionally from a toxic relationship and/or familial bond and finally getting the clarity and peace you need to cut all ties and move onto something better. whatever the situation may be, it was weighing heavy on you and making you feel very down.
you’re gonna feel so free when you leave this situation behind, it’s not even funny. i’m hearing that you were a gilded bird in a cage. some of you could’ve been moving from place to place, not feeling quite settled or financially stable. if you feel lost right now and like you don’t know what to do with your life/where it’s taking you, i just wanna say keep going – W.A.Y.S. by jhené aiko is coming to mind. “if there's one thing that i learned while in those county lines, is that everything takes time. you have gotta lose your pride, you have gotta lose your mind just to find your peace of mind.” awww yeah that’s your theme song for this next glow up. things might not make sense right now, but please trust me when i say that everything is going to work out in your favor & things will be better than you could ever imagine.
you will be blessed with the tools you need to get to this next phase of your life. you are the source, pile 4. whatever you put your mind to, you can surely achieve! don’t let 3D circumstances throw you off, you are so abundant and prosperous you will see in this next glow up just how much of a powerful manifester you really are. you’re still trying to find yourself and figure out where you fit in in the world, but you don’t have to put yourself in a box, pile 4. pave your own way and once you do others will want to follow suit. no one can see your future the way that you do, so keep doing your thing because i’m seeing that you will come across people/friends that share similar interests and niches as you. awww pile 4 you’re going to find your soul tribe.
you have this flighty energy about you (air sign energy/esp gemini) like you’re from one thing to the next and you can’t figure out what you truly want to do. some of you might be in college or almost about to graduate and when people ask you “do you know what you want to do?” you’re like uhhhh….]>|>]^>.]€]€]£ like you truly don’t know but like that’s okay cause actually you do know! on a soul level, you know. what’s understood doesn’t have to be explained pile 4 lol people might not get it now but when you pop out living the life you’ve always dreamed of, TUH. they’ll understand then.
how to tap into this energy?
get out of your head so much and just vibe, pile 4. you can plan plan plan all you want but the reality is: shit happens! it might annoy you or make you feel incredibly frustrated when another problem or inconvenience pops up in your life, but there’s nothing you can’t overcome. it’s life. you will be greatful for these experiences in the long run because it will be another bridge that you’ve already crossed and dealt with, so you won’t fold under pressure – you’ll just already know what to do. you got this, pile 4. shit is about to get really good for you.
#pick a card#pac#pick a pile#p1utofairy#pick a card reading#tarot reading#pac reading#intuitive reading
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ASHES OF A PROMISE
• TITLE: ASHES OF A PROMISE
• PAIRING: Lycan king!Jungkook x Werewolf!Reader
•WORD COUNT: 4.2k
• GENRE: Paranormal Romance, Dark Fantasy, Smut, Slow burn, Fluff (?), Tragic Romance, werewolf au, Royal au
• TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains mention of abuse, with themes of intense physical desire, possessive (dom-sub) dynamics, and primal, instinct-driven encounters. It also explores deep emotional conflict, grief, loss, and difficult decisions surrounding love and sacrifice. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
• SUMMARY: You were a hopeless romantic, dreaming of a mate who would love you as fiercely as you loved him. But when you finally meet your mate, you discover he’s no ordinary wolf — he’s the Lycan king, the alpha of all alphas. Worse, he neither wants you nor is willing to reject you, leaving you trapped in a loveless bond in his kingdom. As queen to a king who resents you, the mate bond grows stronger, making you more vulnerable with each passing day. Now, you must break through the walls around his heart and make him love you, because staying in this bond without love is unbearable, yet leaving isn’t an option he’ll allow.
• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.
MASTERLIST 01
PROLOGUE: bound by fate forsaken by love
"Careful," Alpha Sebastian growled, his fingers clamping down around your arm like a vice. His nostrils flared, the sound of his shallow breaths prickling your skin as he yanked you upright. You winced, pain flaring in your arm, but he didn’t let go, his grip ironclad. "I didn't bring you here to humiliate me."
Your pulse raced, eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion, but you nodded quickly. His gaze burned into you, his jaw clenched, as if daring you to do anything out of line. His fingers tightened, and for a moment, you thought your bones might snap under the pressure.
Abruptly, he shoved you back. “Behave.” The force sent you stumbling, your feet struggling to find balance. You caught yourself just before falling, your hand instinctively reaching up to cradle your arm, your fingers brushing over the dark bruises already forming in the shape of his fingers.
He turned, striding forward as if nothing had happened, but you stayed a step behind, the sight of the looming Lycan Palace making your stomach twist. The Lycan King, Jeon Jungkook, ruled from there. The heir to the Moon Goddess herself. But even his power felt distant and untouchable compared to the suffocating presence of Alpha Sebastian beside you.
Each step you took felt heavier, dragging you closer to something you didn’t want to face. You’d dreaded this moment—being forced to make a public appearance with Sebastian, to let the world assume you were his. People would talk. They would say you'd given yourself to your Alpha, that you were bound to him. But you weren't. Not yet. You were still waiting for your mate. But how long could you hold on when Sebastian hovered over you like a predator, desperate to make you his?
"Look," he spat, spinning around so suddenly that you collided with his chest. The bitter stench of sweat and something rotten made you flinch, and you recoiled instinctively, your nose wrinkling in disgust. His lip curled as he grabbed your shoulders roughly, his fingers digging in. "You stupid woman. I should never have brought you here."
You trembled, your breath hitching as his hand shot up. You flinched hard, instinctively bracing for a blow. But it didn’t come. He sneered at your reaction, his eyes darting around, scanning for witnesses. "Don’t you dare make a scene. Do you hear me?" His voice dropped to a low hiss, filled with threat. "If you embarrass me, you'll pay for it later."
You swallowed hard, your eyes fixed on the ground, trying to steady your shaking hands. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Call me Seb, my love.” His voice softened mockingly as his rough fingers trailed along your arm, leaving a sickening trail of goosebumps. "We'll be mated soon." His laugh was low and smug, and you fought the urge to shudder as he brushed his lips against your ear.
His hand closed around yours without warning, pulling you roughly beside him. As you crossed through the grand golden gates, your breath caught. The palace was magnificent, towering and glittering in the golden light, its beauty almost blinding. It was like stepping into a dream, something so beautiful, so overwhelming, it felt unreal. But all you could feel was the suffocating grip of Sebastian’s hand, his presence a chain, dragging you deeper into a world you wanted no part of.
But the moment you crossed the threshold, something else took hold of you—a scent, one you couldn’t place but that sank into your senses like fire and silk. It was sweet, yet left a trace of salt on your tongue, like a tease of something forbidden. Your wolf stirred violently, clawing at you, demanding you follow it, to find the source. Instinctively, your feet moved in the same direction the scent was coming from, pulling you toward it, but then, Sebastian’s grip tightened.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low, cold. He yanked you back, his eyes locking on yours, hard and blazing with fury. You whimpered, trying to suppress the surge of your wolf's presence, but it clawed beneath your skin, making you tremble.
You weren’t scared. Not of him. But the loss of that intoxicating scent stung like a fresh wound, an aching emptiness you couldn't explain. You glanced down, guilt swirling in your chest, and muttered an apology, though you weren’t sure why.
Alpha Sebastian’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared at you. His nostrils flared as if he was holding himself back. You knew he wanted to lash out, to punish you for daring to act on impulse, but here, at Lycan palace, surrounded by other powerful alphas, his hands were tied. He couldn't do anything here. Not openly, at least. He was smart enough to understand the consequences of disrupting the highly anticipated celebration of the Lycan king.
His grip was bruising as he yanked you close again, his fingers digging into your skin, and without another word, he dragged you forward, his movements sharp and impatient. You stumbled, trying to keep up, your chest tight, the air thick with the scent you couldn't chase. Every step away from it felt like losing a piece of yourself.
The grand hall you were pulled into was nothing short of magnificent—gleaming chandeliers hung like jewels from the high ceilings, casting a golden light across the polished marble floors. The walls were draped in rich, dark silks, with delicate gold accents that made the entire space feel otherworldly. Tables were laid out with decadent feasts, plates filled with dishes you couldn’t name, though their smells mingled together in an overwhelming haze of spices and sweetness.
Wolves of every rank were scattered around the room, their conversations buzzing in the air, their clothes elegant and fashionable. Alphas stood tall, their chests puffed out as if to assert their dominance even here. Lunas, the mates of the alphas, swirled in flowing gowns, their laughter light but their eyes sharp. You could see them dancing together—pairs spinning in perfect harmony, their movements fluid and powerful, exuding grace and strength. For a moment, you let yourself imagine being in that position. How it would feel to be in your mate's arms, not dragged around like a possession, but held close, cherished.
Your heart ached at the sight. You wanted that too—a mate, someone who would look at you the way these alphas gazed at their lunas, with love and pride. The longing inside you twisted, pulling at the raw edges of your soul. The scent that had driven you mad earlier lingered in the back of your mind, making it impossible to forget. It was as if your wolf was howling inside you, desperate for something you couldn’t reach.
As you and Alpha Sebastian made your way deeper into the hall, Royal Beta Kane approached, his posture stiff but polite. His eyes flicked to you, then quickly back to Sebastian. "Alpha Sebastian," he greeted with a slight nod, his voice steady though his expression barely hid the distaste he had for the man beside you. Kane was well respected, a figure of calm authority, but here, in front of Sebastian, there was something uneasy about the way his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Alpha Sebastian barely acknowledged him, his fingers still digging into your arm. “Bee, this man has some serious issues,” your wolf whispered in your head, and you couldn’t help but agree. Alpha Sebastian was undeniably disrespectful. Beta Kane could easily take him down, but you trusted that he wouldn’t; he was strong yet kind. Kane's gaze slid to you again, softer this time, but still cautious. "Welcome," he added, though it was clear the welcome was more for you than the alpha at your side. There was something in his tone that hinted at a shared understanding, like he knew more than he was letting on. "The night’s just begun."
Before you could respond, a woman appeared at Kane’s side, her posture relaxed but her smile sharp. Beta female Shina, Kane’s mate. She greeted you with warmth that almost made you drop your guard, her hand gently touching your arm. "You look stunning tonight," she said kindly, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes. Curiosity, maybe even suspicion. Her words seemed genuine, yet you could feel the weight behind them, like she was searching for something in you.
“Thank you!” you replied, a subtle smile touching your lips. “You look lovely as well.”
Shina’s gaze lingered a little too long before she asked, almost too casually, "Have you found your mate yet?" The question came like a dagger wrapped in silk. Her tone was light, but you could feel the intensity of her interest, the way her eyes seemed to pierce through you, trying to extract some hidden truth.
You opened your mouth.
Then closed it again.
You hesitated, but before you could say anything, Sebastian’s grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. "That’s not a concern right now," he interjected smoothly, his voice cold but controlled, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He didn’t even look at Shina, his eyes staring straight ahead, but his tone was enough to shut the conversation down. "We’re here for the gathering, not to entertain idle gossip."
Shina’s smile didn’t falter, but you could see the flicker of disapproval in her eyes, though she quickly masked it. Kane, on the other hand, openly glared at Alpha Sebastian for a split second before offering a strained smile. "Of course, Alpha." His voice was clipped, and you could sense how much he loathed the man dragging you around like a trophy.
As you continued through the hall, your eyes wandered again. The space was filled with grandeur, but it all felt suffocating, like you were on display for everyone to judge. The music, the laughter, the mingling wolves—it all felt distant, like you were watching from behind a glass, detached from the joy around you. Your focus kept drifting back to that scent, tugging at your mind like a beacon, and every step Sebastian pulled you further from it, the more hollow you felt.
Then, as you glanced back at the couples dancing together, something inside you snapped. Your wolf stirred, restless, a growl rumbling in the back of your throat as you watched their perfect harmony. You wanted that too, but not with Alpha Sebastian. Never with him. The frustration, the longing, everything was becoming unbearable. You could feel your wolf pushing at the edges of your control, wanting to break free, to find the source of that scent that had consumed you.
Alpha Sebastian suddenly pulled you closer, his face hard as he whispered into your ear, his breath hot and cruel. "Keep your eyes forward," he growled. "You’re making a spectacle of yourself." His grip on you tightened again, and this time, you felt your resolve harden.
The night was only beginning, but you were already suffocating.
The night stretched on painfully. Eyes followed you everywhere, and not just because you stood beside an alpha. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny—the whispers, the stares from the other wolves, especially the women. The kind of attention that crawled under your skin, making your body tense and your heart race. But you knew why they looked at you like that.
Alpha Sebastian had lost his mate. Your luna, beautiful, kind, beloved by the pack, was gone. And yet here he was, parading you around like a replacement. It didn’t sit right with the other alphas. Their glances spoke volumes—curiosity, disdain, disbelief. Even the lunas looked at you like you had somehow betrayed your mate’s memory, as if you had willingly stepped into this twisted role.
But they didn’t know the truth. None of them did.
You forced yourself to stand tall, even though their whispers buzzed like wasps in your ears, stinging with every word. They thought you wanted this—power, position. They thought you were trying to become the next luna. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Power meant nothing to you. All you wanted was freedom. To be loved, to be safe, to find your mate and escape this nightmare.
Alpha Sebastian’s hand was still a vise around your arm, his anger barely contained. You could feel it radiating off him in waves, his frustration at being unable to act, his fury at the alphas who dared question him. His eyes burned with it every time someone looked at you for too long, his grip tightening as if to remind them that you were his.
But suddenly, it hit you again—the scent. That same intoxicating smell that had nearly pulled you under earlier. Sweet, but with that strange, salty edge. Your wolf surged to life inside you, snarling, pushing, desperate to follow it, to find its source. You tensed, fighting the urge to tear away from Sebastian’s hold, to run toward it. Your breath quickened, heart pounding as the scent grew stronger, pulling at you like an invisible thread.
Your wolf howled in your chest, clawing to get free. You couldn’t stop it this time. Your body trembled, muscles twitching with the need to move, to find the one who carried that scent.
Alpha Sebastian must have felt the shift in you because he suddenly jerked you closer, his face twisted in rage as he leaned down, hissing in your ear. “Don’t even think about it.”
But, it was too late. The worst was already done. You were the one who had done it.
Your hands were trembling, outstretched before you, eyes glazed over with a wild yellow glow as your wolf surged to the surface. You didn’t even realize what you’d done until you saw him—Sebastian—your alpha, sprawled on the floor. His face twisted in shock, a groan escaping his lips, the pain evident in his expression. But it wasn’t the pain that held his features for long. It was humiliation. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met yours, and then that disbelief turned into something worse.
Rage.
A cold shiver ran down your spine as his eyes burned into you, glowing with that fierce, golden fury only an alpha possessed. You knew you had crossed a line. A line no one crossed and lived to tell about. Panic bloomed in your chest, a voice screaming inside your head, This is it. You’re going to die. Today’s your last day on this earth.
"Really, Bee? You're telling yourself that crap? He won’t kill you." Your wolf's voice broke through, but her words didn’t settle the fear. Not when you saw Alpha Sebastian’s jaw clench, the muscles ticking as his eyes flared even brighter.
He stood, his movements quick and deadly, not even brushing off the dirt on his clothes as he advanced. In a heartbeat, his hand was on you again, tighter than before, pulling you forward with a bruising grip. You stumbled, your feet barely keeping up as he dragged you through a maze of dark hallways. The walls seemed to close in, the darkness swallowing you both, but none of it mattered. The scent—the one that had your wolf clawing to the surface—grew stronger, pulling you closer to it with each step.
But then, he stopped.
Before you could even catch your breath, Alpha Sebastian slammed you against the cold stone wall, his hand wrapping around your throat, cutting off your air. Your back hit the wall hard, knocking the wind out of you, and you gasped, clawing at his hand. His grip only tightened. You could feel your wolf shrinking, her presence slipping away, retreating like a coward.
“How dare you,” he snarled, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and bitter on your skin. His eyes blazed with raw fury, and you could almost feel the heat of it searing into you. “You fucking slut!” The words were venom, dripping with hate as his grip tightened even more. The edges of your vision blurred, your chest heaving as you tried to suck in what little air you could.
"Yuck," your wolf muttered from the far corners of your mind, disgusted. But you couldn’t respond to her, not with the way his hand was crushing your windpipe.
“You dare embarrass me? In front of them? In front of the all? All those people?” His voice was low, dangerous, his wolf rising to the surface as well. The deep growl that followed shook through your chest, sending tremors of fear straight to your core. You had never seen him this enraged before. His wolf was there, just beneath the surface, and you knew the consequences would be dire.
Your hands reached up, weakly clawing at his arm, but his strength was overwhelming. Your legs trembled, barely able to hold you up, and your mind was screaming at your wolf to help, to do something, but she stayed hidden, her tail tucked, too afraid to face what she had started.
Coward, you thought bitterly, your vision growing darker as Alpha Sebastian’s grip tightened. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on.
Your vision began to blur, the edges darkening as you felt consciousness slip through your grasp like water. The pressure on your throat was suffocating, your body giving in, but just before the darkness could pull you under, a thunderous growl reverberated through the palace walls. It was so powerful that even Alpha Sebastian stumbled back, his grip releasing you as he collapsed to the ground.
Gasping for breath, your body slumped against the wall. You barely had a moment to recover when you heard it: "Your Majesty." The words, though whispered by Sebastian, echoed with fear. His head was bowed, his voice faltering despite the forced firmness.
The moment the air returned to your lungs, that scent hit you again, this time sharper, intoxicating, and overpowering. Your gaze, still weak from the lack of oxygen, followed the scent until your eyes locked on him—the Lycan King, Jeon Jungkook. The air thickened around you, and before you could stop it, your wolf stirred, her presence undeniable as she howled the word: Mate.
You had dreamed of meeting your mate countless times, picturing it so vividly that it felt real in those sleepless nights. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, your mind running wild with every possible scenario—bumping into him unexpectedly, his eyes locking with yours, an instant connection that would spark something deep inside you. You imagined feeling safe, cherished, like every piece of you had finally fallen into place. Each night, the thought of him made you smile, and you held on to the hope that your meeting would be nothing short of perfect.
But nothing had prepared you for the way it actually happened. It was nothing like the gentle, romantic moments you had envisioned. Instead, it was raw, overwhelming, and filled with tension you didn’t know how to handle. The reality of your mate was so much more intense, almost frightening, and certainly not what you had expected. There was no softness, no easy smiles or warm embraces. There was only the power of his presence, the way his gaze pierced through you, the storm that surrounded both of you from the moment your eyes met.
And yet, despite the fear and confusion, despite how things had unraveled in the most unexpected way, a strange sense of satisfaction settled in your chest. There was something about him, something undeniable, that made all of it—every sharp moment, every overwhelming second—feel right. You couldn’t explain it, but even after all that had happened, you were glad you were here, glad you had come.
And a broken sob tore from your throat, your body shaking as you instinctively reached out toward him, the one you were bound to. Jungkook stood at the entrance, his broad frame tense, caught between shock and a deep, simmering rage. Despite the anger rolling off him in waves, his presence brought you an unexpected sense of calm. You inhaled shakily, your gaze clinging to him, your wolf desperate to reach her mate.
Jungkook’s eyes flicked over your figure, pausing as he swallowed hard, but when they fell on the bruises circling your neck, his expression hardened once more. His entire posture shifted, muscles coiled tight with barely restrained fury. Just as you tried to crawl toward him, Alpha Sebastian’s rough hands grabbed you, yanking you back toward him.
Jungkook's eyes darkened further, his gaze a cold, lethal blaze. The air around him seemed to still, thick with the weight of his fury. His lips curled back, baring teeth in a vicious snarl as he took another step forward. The ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet, and even Sebastian flinched under the intensity of his presence.
"Take your filthy hands off her." His voice was low, commanding, vibrating with power. There was no question in his tone, only an undeniable force. His eyes never left Alpha Sebastian’s, burning with a warning that promised destruction. "Now."
Alpha Sebastian, frozen by the sheer weight of Jungkook's command, released you instantly. His trembling hand dropped to his side as he took a half-step back, but it wasn’t enough.
"I'm afraid I'm unable to understand you, your majesty. She is my mate—" Alpha Sebastian's voice trembled with urgency, his brow furrowed and eyes wide, fists clenched at his sides. He felt the heat of the moment, the tension wrapping around them like a coiled snake, ready to strike.
Before he could finish, a low growl rumbled through the air, echoing off the stone walls like thunder. Alpha Sebastian flinched, his muscles tensing instinctively as he met the piercing gaze of the Lycan king. The alpha’s chest heaved with a mixture of anger and desperation, a primal instinct fighting against the authority before him.
Jungkook's hand gripped your waist, yanking you upright with a sudden, rough motion that left you gasping. His touch wasn’t gentle—it was possessive, and in that moment, you felt like nothing could tear you from him. His body pressed against yours, a solid wall of fury, his scent engulfing you, filling every part of your senses. His eyes, wild and unrelenting, flicked back to Sebastian, voice low, deadly.
"You think she’s yours?" He laughed, a dark, humorless sound, his lip curling in disgust. "I should rip you apart just for daring to speak those words." His grip on your waist tightened as his gaze bore into Alpha Sebastian, his voice dropping to a growl that was pure dominance. "She is mine. Her soul, her body, her very breath belongs to me." His eyes gleamed with a deadly promise. "Touch her again, and I’ll show you what happens to those who cross me."
Alpha Sebastian took another step back, fear flickering across his face. But Jungkook wasn’t done. His smile stretched wider, more menacing, as he tilted his head, eyes narrowing into slits. "You don’t get it, do you?" he spat. "She was never yours. Not for a second. She is mine—my mate, my queen, and you will never touch her again, not in this life or any other."
You felt your heart race at the possessive words, but the weight of them brought you comfort, a promise of safety in the chaos. Jungkook’s hold on you tightened just slightly, and you leaned into him, the warmth of his body pushing away the cold fear that had taken hold of you moments before.
Before Alpha Sebastian could respond, Jungkook scooped you up effortlessly and turned away, walking swiftly to somewhere unfamiliar. But you didn’t care where he was taking you. You exhaled loudly, resting your head on his shoulder. His body, already tense, grew even more rigid under your touch. His eyes darted to you, wide and hesitant—almost scared. Scared?
"Why does he look like he’s seen a ghost? I told you to wear that red dress bee. You do look like a ghost in white." your wolf’s voice echoed in your mind, sharp with irritation. "I’m already furious that Alpha is still breathing, but this? This isn’t something I expected from a king. Not nearly possessive enough."
Her words shocked you, but you had to admit, she had always been bold, unapologetic in her opinions. You didn’t have time to respond, though, as you realized Jungkook had carried you into a room. It was dark and dusty, the air stale, as if no one had used it for months. Gently, he laid you down on the bed, his touch surprisingly careful. You were hurt, but your wolf had healed most of the injuries, leaving you with barely a bruise. Still, you couldn’t help but savor the attention, his attention, as fleeting as it was.
He stepped back, hesitating. You could feel the tension thick in the air, the way his gaze lingered on you, searching, maybe even conflicted. He wanted to say something—you could tell by the tightness of his jaw, the way his fists clenched at his sides—but silence stretched between you, suffocating. You finally broke it.
"So, is this your room?" You said shyly, but he only stared at you. His eyes glazed with half longing and half disdain. "It’s not bad, just… not clean." You explained further.
"It’s a guestroom," he replied curtly, his voice hollow, leaving you confused. Before you could press further, he turned, his broad shoulders tense as he faced the door. "I’ll send someone to tend to you."
"Why?" you blurted out, panic rising in your chest. Why is he leaving? Male wolves were notorious for not leaving their mates' side after meeting, sometimes staying close until the bond was fully cemented. He was the Lycan King—shouldn’t his need to be near you be even stronger? Why was he abandoning you here?
His back still to you, his voice came out low, almost growling, "I’m no saint, and this isn’t some fantasy. Being bonded to me isn’t a blessing—it’s a curse. The Moon Goddess punished you, and I’m here to make sure you live through it."
With that, he walked out, leaving the room before you could say another word.
You stood there, stunned, the weight of his words sinking deep into your bones. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the bed, mind reeling. Punishment? What had just happened? He had claimed you, pulled you from Alpha Sebastian, protected you—only to throw you away like this?
You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, trying to make sense of it all, but the pain was sharper than any of your injuries. What did this mean? What had you done to deserve this?
Taglist: @jksusawife @nnnnmmmuuiu @jiminismine4ever @freyaniobe @piercidh34rts @furioustrashlover @lola75111 @pitchblack0309 @whoa-jo @teeheewhy13
a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! What's your favorite part of this chapter? I'd love to hear! If you want to be tagged for future chapters, just holler. Also, character asks and drabble requests are open, so hit me up with your wildest ideas.
#kookiewithluv#jeon jungkook#bts ff#bts ffs#jungkook fiction#jungkook scenarios#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook bts#jeon jungguk#jungkook#jeon jungkoooook#bts fic#bts smut#jungkook series#jungkook x y/n
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Could you talk more about sephiroth and clouds dynamic/relationship? Especially about sephiroths feelings towards cloud since I personally haven’t seen many people talk about that aspect.
Well, it sort of depends which version of the Final Fantasy VII story you're talking about, because certainly in the original game, Sephiroth actually doesn't care very much about Cloud at all.
During the events in Nibelheim, Sephiroth has a relationship with Zack as a friendly coworker (arguably an actual friend), but Cloud is just some Shinra goon nobody whose name and face Sephiroth doesn't even know. It's not until Cloud confronts him in the Mako reactor and successfully kills him that Sephiroth even sees his face for the first time. Sephiroth doesn't even know Cloud's name in the last few moments of his life, he just sees this enraged kid suddenly find the strength to overpower him and throw him into the reactor core out of nowhere.
After Cloud kills him, well... I would make the argument that Sephiroth never actually comes back. He dies in the throes of a psychotic break where the Jenova cells inside of him are using his emotional anguish to manipulate him towards her own ends, promising him all the love and family and fulfilment and sense of identity that Shinra violently abused out of him. And when he dies, whatever parts of Sephiroth's mind that were left are fully replaced with Jenova's single-minded superobjective to consume the planet and move on to parasitize again.
And so the version of Sephiroth that haunts Cloud for most of the narrative isn't actually Sephiroth the man. Almost every part of that person is long gone. Just like how Jenova used the psychological hook of Sephiroth's mother to control him, "Sephiroth" is mostly the Jenova cells using the hook of Sephiroth's influence over Cloud to try and control him.
And that's why Sephiroth seems so fixated on Cloud - not because Sephiroth the Person actually cares about him, but because the Jenova cells that are spread out across a thousand organisms are calling for Reunion, and they will use whatever psychological hook or crook that can manipulate their hosts to make it happen. The other Jenova victims presumably saw visions just as vivid and personal, urging them on towards the Northern Crater.
Sephiroth seems obsessed with Cloud because Cloud is obsessed with Sephiroth. Sephiroth is this avatar of his trauma, his self-hate, and his deep internal identity crisis, the representation of his every doubt and insecurity. Hence Sephiroth's gleeful constant accusation that Cloud is merely a puppet, Cloud has no personality, Cloud isn't real - these are Cloud's own fears being verbalized against him by the Jenova cells. And it's deeply ironic because the only puppet here is Sephiroth, being piloted by Jenova like an ant by cordyceps.
Hence the very final battle with Sephiroth which takes place not in the depths of the Northern Crater with the party confronting Safer Sephiroth, but in a black and undifferentiated void-space at the end of a psychedelic mind-trip, that Cloud undertakes alone to confront the ghost of Sephiroth in his mind and banish his influence forever. Like, that final moment really is the most This Is Only Happening In Cloud's Mind-ass final boss confrontation imaginable.
But that's the original Final Fantasy VII. The extended FF7 universe pivots hard off of the popularity of Sephiroth as an Iconic Villain and goes about building out him as the central antagonist of the entire universe, and centering him almost obsessively in the extended narrative of Final Fantasy VII.
Advent Children basically retcons the end of Final Fantasy VII, where it turns out oops Cloud didn't actually fully reject Sephiroth's influence over him, here's some Geostigma to represent the haunting malice of this singular villain and here's a 1-to-1 recreation of the final scene from FF7 where Cloud destroys Sephiroth with Omnislash extended out to a gratuitous anime fight scene that ends with an even more awesome ultra-final ultimate Super Omnislash... but then even THAT isn't enough as Sephiroth promises ominously to "never become a mere memory" and he's going to haunt Cloud forever and ooooh maybe he'll be coming back for another seven sequels or something, because the franchise is never ever ever going to let Cloud move on, heal or get better, not so long as Sephiroth is this popular.
Same deal with Kingdom Hearts, which represents Cloud's character as basically revolving entirely around Sephiroth, and Sephiroth as almost romantically obsessed with Cloud, while games like Crisis Core get into the Star Wars Extended Universe business of attaching portentous mythological weight to originally inconsequential objects like the Buster Sword, and building out a grand conspiracy of gene manipulated One Winged Angel People all chasing the coat-tails of Sephiroth's popularity.
All of this comes together in the Final Fantasy VII Remake games, which try to reconcile the extended post-FF7 narrative with the original Final Fantasy VII story, adopting the idea of Sephiroth as the singular operatic puppet master villain of the story, rather than Shinra or Jenova who were the original game's thematic central villains as representations of parasitic and extractive capitalism.
So in these games, Sephiroth is obsessed with Cloud, and seems to see Cloud as his own best chance of salvation from his fate, and there's deep homoerotic tension between the two as Cloud struggles between wanting to kill Sephiroth, and wanting to be with or become him.
Oh, and to be clear, I do love the extended FF7 universe and all the post-original fluff that gets attached to it, I do love Sephiroth and Cloud as this pair of Doomed By The Narrative romantic lover-enemies fated to Toxic Yaoi each other to death forever, and I'm very fond of my good boy Zack, who deserves all the love the games have shown him. I cackled like an absolute hyena when I realized just how far the Final Fantasy VII Remake was going to go in rewriting the story.
It's just also hard not to see Square's treatment of Final Fantasy VII after it became The Iconic JRPG™ as anything other that corporate self-mythologizing and Star Wars style brand management, obsessively building more a marketable facade around the original game focused on its most popular surface-level features, at the cost of obscuring a lot of the subtler themes and ideas of the original game.
Sephiroth is not the main villain of Final Fantasy VII. Extractive capitalism is, and it is embodied by Shinra in the first half, and Jenova in the second half, and both of those antagonistic forces use Sephiroth as a puppet to do their bidding, and a veil to hide the primitive brutality of their consumption. But nobody would ever think that seeing how Sephiroth has been elevated as King Bad Guy of Villain Mountain in the aftermath.
I'm sorry I think this went kind of off the rails from the question you actually asked lol
#tb answers#gehudshniea#final fantasy#final fantasy 7#final fantasy vii#ff7#ffvii#sephiroth#cloud strife#zack fair#shinra#jenova
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Theres this fun tendency tme people have whenever they're asked to consider whether a character could possibly be transfem to bravely proclaim "But what if they're not?"
Initially, when told you view a character as transfem, they ask what the reasoning behind the reading is. (which, to be clear, is a perfectly reasonable thing to ask.) The problem arises when they are presented with that evidence. Because no amount of evidence will be enough. There's always another explanation. Always some reason to think the character isn't transfem.
"What if this character whose entire arc was about rejecting the masculine role forced upon them was transmasc? Men can struggle with masculinity too."
"What if this character who loves to dress up in feminine attire and pretend to be a girl in public is just a femboy? Men can be feminine too."
"What if this character who feels dissatisfied after fulfilling the role of man and staunchly refuses to look inwards for fear of what they might see is just cis? Men can hate being men too"
They need the evidence to be ironclad, for no other explanation to possibly be able to exist, to even consider that a character could be transfem. Every piece of evidence that will simply be dismissed as not being relevant. And it becomes pretty clear that in actuality they just don't want to imagine a character could be transfem.
This same thing happens with real people too. The whole "egg culture" discourse that happened here recently functioned very similarly. It was always "Men can be gnc, and by saying a man could be transfem, you're enforcing gender roles" and shit like that. The underlying logic is always "Let men be men"
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HI I JUST READ YOUR "SIMON BETRAY YOU" AND YOU KNOW WHATTTT IT HURTS SOO GOOD OMG THANKS FOR MAKING THATT SJWISHWBSHSJSBWJSBWBS
...
and.. maybe can you write for a part two? pleaseee🥺
HIII TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! here's a pt 2! i am very sick at the moment, though, so this might be a bunch of gibberish (i sincerely apologize if so). hope you like it <3
simon riley betrays you pt. 2
simon "ghost" riley x reader || pt. 1 || masterlist
☆ ☆ ☆
-miraculously, they let you go.
-you half expected someone to drag you out of the car with the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple with the intent to fire, but no. after a few excruciatingly long hours alone with your arms and legs bound, someone new came to cut your ties and let you loose.
-maybe they were just bad at their job, you thought. after all, why would they let you, essentially a witness, go free without any repercussions?
-a few years pass. you try to move on, but its impossible when your entire world was shattered in one night.
-you never heard back from your father since then, but that wasn't the thing that hurt the most. you couldn't go a single day without thinking about the sting of betrayal. any happy moment you had was spent comparing the time you felt that same feeling with him, before anything in the world was wrong to you.
-what's worse, there was something telling you that you shouldn't tell anyone about it even if you wanted to. a voice in your head kept telling you that maybe, maybe they're keeping you on a leash. maybe someone was watching you at this very moment ready to take you out the moment you spilled your experiences.
-in a way, your fears are confirmed when you meet simon again miles away from the last place you lived. you had moved for this exact reason; you never wanted to see his face for as long as you lived.
-it happens when you're walking alone in the street. you moved to this area specifically because you heard it was quieter and, more importantly, safer. but how much of that could you escape, really?
-your attacker approaches you as you're making your walk home from work, a kind of confidence on his face that makes the common individual want to roll their eyes.
-"what's a sweet thing like you doing out alone at night, huh?" he asks, his footsteps staggered like he's had one too many drinks.
-you give him the usual speel of, "oh, my friends are waiting for me... yeah, i've got a boyfriend. haha, i'm okay, no need to accompany me, thanks."
-your soft attempts at rejection only seem to agitate him, because next thing you know he's stepping toward you and putting a hand on your arm with a bone-crushing grip.
-"c'mon jus' let me-"
-his voice is cut off by the sound of a loud thud and the stranger's yelp of pain. it takes you a second, but you realize the defense on your behalf came from beside you.
-oh, thank god.
-you and your now injured attacker now adjust your gazes to sit on the silent newcomer. just like that, your settled sense of dread has come back and increased tenfold.
-there he was, with that stupid mask over his face and his hands curled into fists for preparation of what he was going to do next if the man didn't scurry off.
-"you'll leave," he says darkly under subtle pants, as if he ran before coming to your rescue. "if you know what's good for you."
-the stranger wastes no time in running off into the night, leaving you with your worst nightmare.
-for a while, you both stare at each other like you can't believe the other is real. it takes everything in you not to cry or beg him for answers. no, after everything you worked for, you're not going to throw away everything you built in the past few years to recover from him just to throw it all away now... right?
-"why are you here?" you ask coldly. "come to finish the job?"
-although your eyes were icy and your questions came with a rigid tone, there was genuine fear in your question. what if the soldier that untied you wasn't supposed to? what if you were supposed to be dead all those years ago?
-"no. never."
-even though he knows the reason why, his heart still hurts at the thought of you believing he'd just up and kill you like that.
-"really? that's rich," you scoff, except you're terrible at hiding the tremble in your breath and the tremors traveling through your body.
-spotting your growing fear, he scrambles for something, anything, to make you fear him less.
-"i was worried, that's all. after that night," he pauses, eventually deciding to skip the details of what he did to your father. "i didn't know where you went. thought i could just get over it, but i guess i just knew i needed to check in on you just in case."
-you resist the urge to roll you eyes. "right. you're back again to 'check in on me'? to come back and meddle in my life again?" you're struggling to keep your tears back as they form in your eyes. "you've already taken so much. how selfish can you be?"
-he stares at you for a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a gold watch that belonged to your dad.
-"i'm sorry about your father, but you have to understand that he-"
-"not that, simon. it was never that," you push his hand away and the offer that came with it. his eyes became confused. "i mean you. it's always been you. you just come into my life telling me you love me, that you want to be with me so much and then just take that all away? and you never even bothered to tell me it was a lie, just let me get tied up by some stranger to be left alone and scared!"
-there's a new look in simon's eyes at your words, but it's hard to decipher them from behind the mask.
-"it wasn't a lie," he says slowly, lowering the hand with the watch in it back to his side.
-"oh, please." the trembling has not died down in the slightest. "i bet you're still mad that worker of yours took pity on me and let me leave before you could do anything about it. like i said, back to finish the job."
-your eyes are now trained on the ground. there was a conflicted feeling in your body at the moment. on one hand, this was the man that let you get tied up and left in a car while he "handled" your father. on the other, this was the man you loved. the one who was kind to your ever desire, who always understood you in ways you never knew possible.
-"i told them to let you go," he finally manages.
-"what?"
"i..." he hesitates. "i told my captain that if i was going to give them your father's location, they were to let you go no questions asked when the whole ordeal was over with." and it was true. he hated even imagining poor you, being interrogated by his colleagues in an isolated, barren room. you had been through enough.
-and even if you had been a part of your father's scheme, there was a part of simon that loved you too much to care (though he'd never admit it to himself).
-it was a good thing price trusted his judgment. he didn't know what he would've done had he said no.
-the tears are now streaming down your face and you can do nothing to stop it. it all felt like so much. you were so, so confused. if he did love you, why did you feel this way? how much of this could you trust?
-cautiously, he goes to wipe the tears away from your face, murmuring a quiet, "hate it when you cry." for a second, it was a familiar feeling. you felt like you were back in your shared flat with simon while having a breakdown over life's struggles. in moments like those, you never would have expectated that life's struggles could take the form of simon himself.
-you can't help but lean into his touch. maybe you were insane for allowing him to touch you like this, but you wanted nothing more than to let him into your life again. the resolve you worked so hard to build was crumbling away the longer you spent with him.
-"the reason it took so long for me to find you..." he's holding your face in his hands, now. "for so long, i thought i ought to leave you alone. i know i should. i wasn't lying about when i said i was worried if you were still alive, but," he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. "i also miss you. 'nd i know, 's incredibly selfish of me after everything i've done to you, but i can't help it."
-one of his hands leaves your face to slide the mask and balaclava off his face. there he was again, his aged brown eyes and soft jawline, the sides of his face littered with small scars you still remember to this day.
-"i'll make it up to you," he whispers. "anything you ask, i'll answer. about my past, your father, anything. you ask me to get you something, i'll have it for you wrapped all nice 'nd pretty. hell, i'll get on my knees and pray to you if you order me to, love."
-it was like your nightmare turned into a fantasy, having him here begging for your forgiveness.
-"anything you want, i want to give to you. jus' let me be a little selfish, too."
-you bite your lip as you think it over. you know the correct answer would be a clear, hard no, but you can't bring yourself to do it. not after all those nights wishing he was encasing you in his arms again, whispering all the things he adored about you as you drifted off into sleep.
-as much as you shouldn't be believing him, you do.
-"...anything?" you ask hesitantly, and it takes everything in simon not to pull you in close and never let go.
-again. no, he needs to be sure he won't scare you off again.
-"anything," he promises, fingertips tracing the edge of your jawline.
-"okay," you agree, the tears finally having stopped flowing. happiness does not even begin to describe what simon was feeling. "for starters, you can walk me home."
-with the watch long forgotten and broken on the edge of the sidewalk, he holds your face for a bit longer before letting go. eventually, he offers his arm to you and you take it.
-there's a part of him that mourns the years lost that he could've had with you. maybe, if he came to you sooner, he wouldn't have to be so careful about being around you, now. but, no, these were the consequences of his actions.
-at the very least, you were still giving him a second chance, and he was intent on not fucking it up this time.
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod mw x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#cod angst#call of duty angst#simon riley angst#ghost angst#rarawrites
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Underneath the joke here, there is actually something compelling to be explored. The idea of "Jinx" being so notorious that she's mythologized. The myth being a hyper exaggeration of all her infamous traits, until it strays far from what the real Jinx is actually like. A spin on the whole "League of Legends" thing. The show did attempt to play into this theme with the openings. The way Season 1's opening depicts statues carved of stone, showing them as heroes and legendary figures, then Season 2's opening depicts them as human, stripped down to their underclothes. But the show could have done much more with this than a simple joke about an enforcer thinking the real criminal mastermind would never wear circus pants.
Imagine people telling stories of the dangerous criminal Jinx, but exaggerating certain details about her. Saying her nails are long and pointed as talons, her braids drag behind her on the ground, her teeth are sharp as a shark's, her bullets never miss, she is utterly without feeling or mercy, a spectre come to haunt and destroy Piltover. Imagine Piltovians viewing her as a horror story, and Zaunites viewing her as a dark hero, their vengeance against Piltover. Of course, the real Jinx likes painting her nails bright pink, let her father braid her pigtails, has a small tooth gap, misses her shots often, and feels way too much. The idea of both cities taking this girl and turning her into a legend, stripping away all her human qualities and projecting all their own fears and desires onto her is so interesting. Jinx, Piltover's ruin and Jinx, Zaun's revenge. Instead of Jinx the human.
Imagine Jayce meeting her. He never met her in the entire show's run which I feel is a missed opportunity. She was the catalyst of so much of his story in Season 1. It was her who broke into his lab, stole his gemstone and research. She defaced his entire lab, putting her grafitti and monkey symbols everywhere to taunt him. He spent the entirety of Season 1 worried sick that she would find a way to weaponize the gemstone. Her massacre of the enforcers on the bridge traumatized and sickened him. He demanded that she be locked up in exchange for Zaun's independence. I wonder how he imagines her? Does he picture a grown woman? Someone his age or older? Someone devoid of emotion or humanity? Imagine if he finally met her, this person who has caused him so much distress, and he sees an ill teenage girl. Baby fat on her cheeks and chipped nail polish.
Vi's story could have mirrored this too, losing her own identity while her sister sinks herself into her "Jinx" persona. Feeling abandoned and betrayed by Zaun, she rejects it and falls into Caitlyn's (Piltover's) arms. Becoming absorbed and assimilated into the city, losing connection to her real roots. Piltover taking advantage of her strength and exploiting it against Zaun. Turning her into their weapon, one of their enforcers. Using her as a diversity hire, the token trencher to prove how kind and not at all oppressive the enforcers are. Vi losing her own humanity as she makes The Piltover Enforcer her new identity and lets herself be engulfed by it, the way her sister does with her Jinx identity. Both cities taking these sisters and turning them into symbols. The sisters being dehumanized but letting it happen because they feel they have no other path or that they deserve it. But underneath Jinx and Piltover's Enforcer, are two broken young women.
#arcane#arcane s2#arcane league of legends#arcane netflix#arcane season 2#league of legends#arcane vi#arcane jinx#vi#jinx#jayce#piltover#zaun#silco#caitlyn
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Personally I agree with you that Mithrun knew his friends were all illusions, and tbh, I think he was very okay with it
About Mithrun vs Marcille on the demon's copies of real-life people: Mithrun's desires were all related to image and self-worth, never the actual people in his dungeon. He didn't necessarily want the real thing - arguably he doesn't even like Sultha since he thought of the real one as "sketchy" - he just wanted the image of her, he wanted the image of being better than his brother, he wanted the image of having friends, etc. I believe that's why he was so okay with the demon making fake copies of his friends. It contrasts Marcille being so against the lion's attempt to make a copy of her dad. She wanted her actual father, so she strongly rejected the copy. But Mithrun didn't necessarily want Sultha, he wanted the image of her and the pride that came with her choosing him over his brother, so he likely didn't care that the demon was just making illusions. I agree with you that he was aware, at least on a subconscious level, that he was just playing pretend.
There's also that quote where it said his desire was to be safe from anyone who could harm him. It's possible that he was a bit afraid/paranoid of the real-life counterparts, and thought the illusion people couldn't possibly hurt him, so he felt safer around the fake people and ended up preferring them. This way he could have his friends and his girlfriend without the constant fear of getting hurt. He could feel wanted and important and loved without being on edge about what they secretly thought of him, or if they secretly wanted to hurt him. That's exactly what he wanted - the illusions fulfilled his desires better than the real counterparts ever could.
I don't really think it's a matter of image, there was nobody there to put on a show for, the show of having friends was before her became a dungeon lord, to me it's more that If you really believe nobody could ever love the real you, fake friends created by the demon is ok
Marcille had a father that truly loved her and friends that she wanted to protect, so it makes sense she was averse to the version made up by the demon at first, from the hints we get Mithrun had nobody he had a real connection with (here exemplified by what he thought of his teamates and the impression Milsiril had of him contrasted with the dungeon)
I don't really understand if other than Sultha the others are real canaries that ended up being driven away just like people were driven away from Thistle, I don't really put it past them to fall for the demon with the promise of a safer life where they don't have to risk their lives only to realize the downwards spiral is inescapable for the dungeon lord.
I don't think it's as important if he "really liked" Sultha or not, I think it's more related to insecurity and fear of rejection, having his brother chosen over him even tho "he's better" (the "perfect youth" image)
Mithrun was thrown away for being a bastard so being faced with the life he could have had probably broke him, I think there's some pride involved too in a twisted way but I read more like something related to "the life I wish I had", envy/jealousy like Milsiril describes. Being able to love and be loved back was never an option especially after joining the canaries
The illusion of this wasn't perfect as we can see, and with the paranoia and everything I doubt he ever really "preferred" the fakes to real life but rather it was all he had?
Idk I'm not good with words hope this made some sense, but even Marcille who said the recreation of her dad was "unnecessary" (quite the underreaction) still kept him around until the others defeated him so I don't really know what it says about Mithrun, maybe if he wasn't imprisoned into the book he could have manipulated Thistle into accepting a fake Delgal too?
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