#they just are so not for us it feels frustrating to have them continuously centered

[livseses]

One thing that's frustrating sometimes in syscourse is the way origin is treated as this binary between endogenic and traumagenic. While frequently there's a 3rd mixed origin option present, or an "unknown" category, those just feel reinforcing or complicit in this dichotomy. Like, you can be one or the other, or both, or unsure where you fit. But it's gotta be one of those.

But what if you're neither? What if you don't have origins? What if you abjectly refuse the narrative that there was cause or purpose to your system's formation? What if the mythology you build for your system's formation bucks at these labels? What if you find the question faulty?

Idk, this is more or less a vent at the centrality of origin in system spaces I guess. Makes us feel out of place. It almost feels like asking us the origins of our genders or orientations. Or to put a -genic label on our spiritual beliefs. It's either an irrelevant question to us or one that's so complex as to be unanswerable with a couple of labels.

We're so much more comfy with labels like DID and Soulbonding. Not origins, but flavours.

[frittern]

something I think we need to acknowledge is that, Yes, character.ai is terrible garbage because of the reasons mentioned above and people shouldn't use it, but the solution is NOT as simple as "just find other people to rp with, lol"

The reason people are drawn to the idea of writing with chat bots in the first place is because they've already tried that and found that rp communities and writing with yourself is a very difficult task to be able to do, especially with particularly judgemental groups and without immediate friends to do it with. That's like saying "just make friends"-- it's not that simple, and finding people that click with the way your writing works or even the ideas you're interested in can be a very isolating experience. ESPECIALLY if you are disabled in some way such as having ADHD, chronic pain, or other issues that make it difficult to keep up with writing style and time management that many RP partners or groups require.

And even more than that, some people who turn to character.ai are trying things out with characters and themselves because they feel lonely. If you're writing rp with someone, you likely don't want to have them pick a character for you to be so you can cater to all of their desires and do something like self-ship, kink, or even just asking the characters weird questions or pretending they're friends with them. RP is a two way street-- you're wanting to write so you can get something out of it, too. But sometimes people want to escape into things catered specifically to them in ways that would make most RP writers cringe or feel uncomfortable accommodating. This leaves people who are relying on that sort of escapism without many good outlets.

While I agree that none of these things are excuses for using character.ai, don't dismiss the experiences of the people who are usually needing it most as something so simple to fix, especially if you aren't personally planning on sitting there and doing those things with strangers on the internet yourself. Dismissing the feelings of these people will serve to just make them feel more alone, and they're likely to not want to listen to you and become frustrated in the long run.

There is no current fix or solution to fill in the gap for the people in these communities, but at the very least we must extend understanding if we hope to be able to work towards finding a way to end AI takeover and help artists and writers alike be recognized once again.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

[woso-soso]

Missing Puzzle Piece Pt.1

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: Mapi and you have been together for years, what will happen when a new person makes an appearance in your lives.

Word Count: 3,639

Part 2

Any time words are Italicized it indicates another language being spoken, in the case of this story it will indicate Spanish is spoken.

You’d known María for years, having met when you were barely big enough to ride the fair rides that came into town every year. Meeting at a volleyball camp held at your town's community center, and while María thrived at it you found yourself cowering in the back. Shrinking further into yourself as you struggled to integrate into the game, finding yourself more so on the end of flying balls. Balls you weren't prepared to hit back, leading to more than one frustrated groan from the team you had been forced onto. By the time lunch had come around you were left to sit alone at one of the tables set up, that was until a wild haired girl came bounding over. A smile wide across her face as she sets her lunch down at the seat across from you. You hadn’t caught her name at introductions, having been more focused on not puking on your shoes than learning anyone's names.

“I’m María,” she said, her mouth full of food. “But everyone except my mama calls me Mapi.” 

You stare at the strange girl in front of you, her arms covered in doodles. Many of them being extremely detailed, maybe the two of you would have something to talk about after all. “I’m Y/N,” you whisper hoping the much louder girl will be able to hear you. 

“So why are you here Y/N, I mean not to be rude but like you seem to hate it,” Mapi remarks not looking up from the food in front of her as she continues to shovel it into her mouth at a speed that was honestly impressive. 

“My papa, he got the dates mixed up when registering. I was supposed to be at the art camp next week but now I’m stuck here instead.” You answer somberly. Your papa was doing his best, becoming a single parent suddenly hadn’t been the plan and the two of you took it in stride together. Even when he did mess up, at least he was trying. 

“So you like art,” Mapi’s interest piques as she finally slows down to look up at you. You nod softly as you pick at the simple sandwich in front of you. Something you had thrown together that morning because your papa had forgotten to pack lunch the night before. “What do you like to do?”

“Well, I like drawing. My papa just got me a ton of new pencils to try. But I also really like taking pictures. I have this film camera at home, papa says when it's full we can send it off to get them developed. Apparently it's a long process.” The camera had been something your therapist had suggested, she thought it would benefit your dad to see what piques your interest. Helping get inside your mind since getting you to talk was a challenge. “Do you like drawing,” you inquire hesitantly, looking again at the intricate doodles that covered Mapi’s arms. 

“I love drawing, my mama says I get ink everywhere but I like drawing on my arms. At least then I get to see them all the time.” Mapi’s answer intrigues you. You could see the cap of a ballpoint pen stick out the top of her shirt having been clipped inside to attempt to conceal it. 

“I like that,” you state, a soft smile crossing your face as you look Mapi in the eyes. Her own large smile somehow getting larger. 

“Come here,” Mapi says suddenly, “would you like some drawings of your own.” You nod cautiously, moving around the table to sit next to the taller girl. Wiping her hands on her shorts before grabbing the ballpoint pen. “Here, stretch out your arm,” her hand gently takes your forearm, extending it across the table so it lays flat palm up. The pen tickles, but quickly you grow used to it. Mapi works slowly, making small marks across your arm as you relax into the feeling. 

The rest of the day is less anxiety-inducing as you switch over to the same team as Mapi, her presence not only calming but protective as you were able to hide behind her. Avoiding any more unwanted contact with volleyballs. When your papa comes to get you you can see him eyeing the ink marks across your skin, a relieved smile crossing his face as he watches you wave to Mapi her matching ink marks clear on her skin. 

“So did you make a friend today?” He questions cautiously. 

“I think I did papa,” a bright smile appearing on your face for the first time in a long time. 

“You got in!,” Mapi shouts gleefully, her arms wrapping around your body. The letter grasped tightly in your hand as happy tears trail down your cheeks. 

After meeting Mapi the two of you quickly became tightly bonded. Spending many evenings camped out in each other's bedrooms exploring different art mediums, a football game usually playing in the background as you talked softly. Mapi had always encouraged your photography, she insisted that while you were one for few words your photos always told a story. It was because of her that you got up the courage to apply to art school, the same art school Mapi had gotten into and while she chose to focus on football and not attend you knew it was still the best place for you. 

“I did it, I can’t believe I did it,” you mumble into her shoulder. Your tears leaving a damp spot on her shoulder. 

“I knew you could do it, your mama would be so proud,” Mapi whispers softly, her hand stroking your hair. A new wave of tears starting at the thought of your mama. She had been gone for so long yet it felt like just yesterday she had been showing you her own camera, a camera locked up safely in the attic. 

You pull away from Mapi’s warm embrace slowly, your arms staying connected around her neck. Your stomach twisting as you stare into her eyes, you knew you had feelings for her. It would almost be weirder if you didn’t, the two of you had been inseparable since you were small. You had been there for her through hundreds of football games where she dominated over the boys and she had been there for you while you displayed your photographs at various school events. She knew you front and back, like a book she had read a million times and you knew her the same. Before you can even think about what you're doing you lean in, Mapi making no move to pull away as your lips connect. 

Mapis lips are slightly chapped, yet taste like strawberry as if she had just applied chapstick. Her arms tighten around you, pulling you in closer as the kiss becomes more frantic. The pent up attraction between the two of you coming out full force. The sound of your front door closing being the only thing to snap the two of you apart. Your face most certainly flushed bright red as you stare at the carpeted floor under your feet. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, quickly wiping your face clean of any chapstick. The strawberry scent lingering. 

“Why?” Mapi asks quietly, leaning back on your bed. Watching you as your brain races a mile a minute. 

“I shouldn’t have just jumped you like that, I just… I assumed things and I’m sure they aren’t correct,” your voice cracks as you try to keep from crying. Embarrassment is clear on your face with your blazing red cheeks. 

“How do you know,” Mapi asks. 

“How do I know? Because come on Mapi look at you and look at me, it's silly to think we could be anything more than friends.” You mumble.

“Well firstly, best friends. Secondly, what do you mean look at you? You are the most amazing person I know, I’m honored you like me that way. I’ve liked you for a long time now, I just never had the courage to say anything.” The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Mapi’s words hanging in the air. 

“Really?” You whisper, turning to look at her. 

“Really,” Mapi says, her hand taking yours. 

The two of you are practically inseparable after that, wherever Mapi goes you are sure to follow. For years you worked at small photography studios, focusing on simple family portraits, weddings, and other parties. But by chance there was a day you got asked at the last minute to photograph Atlético Madrid's game against Real Sociedad. Atlético’s regular photographer had fallen ill and of course Mapi took this as a chance to throw your name out there. Sure some of her teammates were aware of your relationship but that didn’t seem to be a hindrance as you trekked out to the sidelines of the pitch, camera and monopod in hand. The game goes well, except for the occasional stray ball you stay safely tucked away capturing the high emotions of the game. 

“Did you get my good side,” Mapi jokes as she approaches, her cheeks flushed from having just finished a full ninety minute game. 

“Now when did you develop a bad side?” Your eyebrows raise in question as you continue to pack up your gear, preparing for a long night at home editing.

“Just checking, just checking” Mapi smirks, hands raised in surrender as she turns to take off back towards her teammates. 

While that night is long. You curled up on the couch as Mapi’s head rests in your lap, her soft snores reminding you how late it was, your hand gently combing through her hair as you edit the lot of photos you had taken. Only finishing as the sun begins to rise, a nagging headache forming behind your eyes as you close your laptop. 

“Come on love, let's go sleep properly,” you grunt as you nudge Mapi off your lap. 

“What time is it?” Mapi groans as you drag her to her feet. Her eyes barely opening enough to see her surroundings. 

“It's either very late or very early, let's not think about it.” You say as you push her into bed, joining her on the other side. Burying yourself under the covers, hoping for at least some restful sleep. 

What you hadn’t expected to come from the game was a permanent job offer from Atlético. They insisted they needed a photography assistant and that if you wanted it you were more than welcome to have it. It wasn’t something you even need to consider, quickly accepting the offer on the table. In the three years you were with Atlético you learned as much as you could, following the lead photographer like a shadow. Getting to know the coaches and players, learning where to draw boundaries with Mapi, you may be together but you weren’t about to risk either of your jobs because of it. 

That's what made it so hard to leave, when Barcalona came knocking at Mapi’s door it would have been stupid to say no. But the dread of having to start over in a new city made you nervous. You were already away from home most of the time, only seeing your papa a few times a year. You had finally established a career in Madrid, but at the same time you knew you couldn’t be away from Mapi. The two of you moved in tandem for a reason, you were two pieces to the same puzzle. You would rather put your career on hold to be there for her then be in Madrid, alone. 

Things fall into place easily in Barcelona, a job as an editing assistant for the men's team opens up only a few weeks after you move in with Mapi. Sure it wasn’t where your passion lied but it was something. 

“How are you settling in my love,” Mapi asks one morning as the two of you laid together in bed, the sun leaking in through the slightly open curtains. Her hand tracing shapes along your spine. 

“It’s okay, I wish I was with the women's team but it's okay, it's a start.” You knew deep down your only actual chance to work with the women's team would be if someone leaves, and who would leave working for the most successful team in the league. 

“It will happen one day, they will see just how talented you are and they won't be able to deny you the  job you want.” You appreciated Mapi’s optimism, she had always been your biggest cheerleader. Reassuring you throughout the years as the two of you grew and changed with one another. 

“Thank you my love, we can hope, but let's not get them too high.” You whisper softly, tracing the tattoos that cover Mapis arms only stopping once your alarm interrupts your morning peace. 

The two of you go your separate ways when you hit the gate at work, her slipping off to practice as you make your way down the never ending hallways. Passing offices of people important enough to have actual doors, eventually settling into your small cubical towards the back of the room. A place you can tuck yourself into and hide from the rest of the office. 

This continues for years, Mapi and you continent in your relationship never really sharing it with others outside of your family and friends. Your social media staying very much private, especially as you start to get more attention from fans of the team for the photographs you take, having been promoted to the men's team head photographer. You were happy, sure you had hopes and dreams you were still working towards but you found yourself fond of the simple everyday routine that you and Mapi had formed. 

That was until you literally ran into a goddess. 

The tall dark haired beauty had exited the main conference room right as you were passing, not a chance for either of you to stop as you collided. The box of hard drives crashing to the ground as she grabs your arm to stabilize you. 

“I’m so sorry,” the brunette says quickly, a thick accent making it challenging for you to understand. Your limited understanding of English not aiding in the matter. 

“It.. is.. okay,” you stammer out, hoping you said something okay. The soft smile on the woman's face giving you some reassurance that you had. 

“I’m Ingrid, I just signed on with the women's team.” The woman you now know as Ingirid declares, her hand extended towards you. Your mind going blank as you gently take her hand. 

“I am Y/N,” you say with less confidence than her. 

“Well, it's very nice to meet you Y/N.” Ingrid declares, dropping your hand to bend down and retrieve the box you had dropped. Thankfully none of the hard drives had fallen out. 

And with that she was gone, your mind racing at warped speed. The tingle on your skin from where she had been holding your arm reminding you of the feelings that had coursed through you. A sudden wave of nausea washing over you as Mapi popped into your mind, your fun, sweet, goofy Mapi. How you could even think of another woman, one you don’t even know, one who will have to work with your LONGTIME partner. This sudden feeling of guilt settling into your stomach. 

You avoid the topic with Mapi for the next few days, a weird silence falling over your shared apartment any time work is brought into the conversation. You know she can tell something is wrong, you can feel her watching you as you try to keep yourself distracted in the apartment. Being barely able to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time this sudden influx of anxiety being clear as day to anyone who knows you. 

It isn’t until one late night when you get home from traveling with the mens team that you and Mapi finally talk. She had stayed up late, catching you as you snuck in the front door.

“Please, my love, come talk to me. Somethings wrong, I can tell.” Mapi’s words make your heart ache, looking into her eyes you see someone who so desperately wants you to open up. Something that you had never seen before, up until now you and Mapi had never had issues communicating. Communication was actually one of the things the two of you pride yourselves on, something many of your friends were actually stunned by when they first learned how open the two of you are. 

You take your time to drop your bags, sliding your shoes off as you close the door behind you. The pit of anxiety growing more into a black hole. Sitting down next to Mapi on the sofa, not daring to look at her. The two of you sitting in silence for what felt like hours, Mapi’s hand gently grasping yours. 

“What is going on in your mind my love,” Mapi whispers softly as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I… I um, I met one of your new teammates last week.” You swallow, tears pricking at your eyes as guilt eats away at you. “She bumped into me in the main offices,” you whisper looking over at Mapi as she watches you intensely. 

“Did she do something to you?” Mapi asks, a hint of urgency in her tone. 

“Nothing bad I promise, she probably doesn’t even remember meeting me. But… when she held my arm to keep me from falling I got this feeling.” You turn away from Mapi again, not wanting to see the look on her face. “And I hate this feeling, it's a feeling I’m only supposed to have with you, yet my skin burned where she held it. I feel like I’m betraying you even though I haven’t done anything.” 

You don’t dare look at Mapi, her hand hasn't left yours and she never shifts further away from you. But this feeling of guilt settles in your stomach, the fear that she will be angry at you for your unwanted thoughts lingers in the back of your mind. 

“Who was it?” Mapi asks after a few long moments. 

“What?” The shock is evident in your voice as you snap your head to look at her. Having expected anger, not curiosity. 

“What is her name? Who is it?” She asks again, meeting your eyes, a soft squeeze of your hand reassuring you. 

“She said her name is Ingrid. I think she just signed on with the team.” Sharing the only information you had. 

Mapi takes a moment to process what you had said, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks as she takes you in. “It’s okay,” she reassures after a moment. “I am guilty of the same,” Mapis' words shocking you. 

“What?” You hiccup. 

“I have had the same feelings you have had for her, I’ve been struggling with them to my love. She is… enticing to put it simply. I don’t blame you for feeling this way about her.” Mapi’s words both alarm you and reassure you. You had felt some security in knowing that while you held these feelings there was no way you were going to interact with Ingrid again. But knowing that Mapi also held those feelings, for someone she is seeing everyday, traveling with, showering with. A sudden wave of fresh tears form in your eyes. 

“You… you like her too. Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask suddenly, pulling your hand away from hers.  

“Of course I was, it's not like I would ever dream of acting on those feelings. I was worried about you. You’ve been acting off.” Mapi defends. 

“I’ve been acting off because I find this person attractive, the same person you apparently find attractive. A person you will be spending time with, alone.” A tone that isn’t anger but more so anxiety present in your voice. 

“I’m not going to ever act on it, I love you, that isn’t changing.” Mapi insist. 

“But what if you eventually find you are loving her? She seems charming, pretty. What do I have to compete.” 

“You aren’t competing my love, there is no competition.” Mapi’s words hang in the air as you process all that has been shared. 

But what if you want to share? The thought of Ingrid making your heart flutter, not in the way Mapi makes it flutter but in a way that feels like she completed the puzzle the two of you were pieces in. Your love for Mapi hadn’t changed, it had only grown over the years, but the thought of Ingrid felt like your heart was whole. 

“What would you think if I thought dating Ingrid would be appealing, if I thought she would fit in well with us?” You ask hesitantly. 

“Are you asking if I would want to open our relationship?” Mapi asks. 

“Not open, it wouldn’t just be anyone. Just Ingrid.” You respond, watching Mapi out of the corner of your eye. 

“I… I wouldn’t be opposed, not if she would be okay with it. She would have to want both of us, I’m not losing you because of someone else.” Mapi whispers. 

“I don’t think you would have to ever worry about losing me.” You say softly as you place a gentle kiss on Mapi's cheek. “Let's think of it this way, if Ingrid shows any interest we consider it. But we will not tarnish us by seeking it out, okay?” 

“I’m okay with that,” Mapi agrees, her arms wrapping around you tightly as the two of you sink back into the couch. A million thoughts racing through your mind as everything that has happened catches up to you.

[darkmatilda]

ׂ╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

part 1: first day of investigation

part 2 here!

in which you and the BAU are handling the case of a murderer in a small, sleepy town

tw: decapitation, description of a crime scene etc, mention of a suicide attempt, mental illness

contents: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader, solving a criminal mystery, angst, slow burn

words: 4k

“And how's school?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“It could be worse,” said Jeremy after a moment, in an indifferent tone. You sighed, wondering if, as a teenager, you also answered everything, even more serious, open questions with vague remarks, driving the person asking how you were doing to frustration.

Answering that question, no, you didn’t do that. When you were a teenager, you didn’t have anyone who cared about you. Precisely for this reason that you practically tormented your brother with phone conversations, feeling immense guilt for leaving him with your parents. The same parents with whom you ultimately decided to cut off contact. You had never faced a more difficult decision — cutting them off or continuing a relationship that tragically affected your mental health? After each interaction with them, you felt weak, defenseless, insignificant, and above all, exhausted. It wasn’t even about your mother’s illness. They were just terrible people.

Your sixteen-year-old brother didn’t have that option. He had to deal with them until he turned eighteen and moved out. You regularly made sure he was okay. However, lately, you had the impression that his voice was becoming more and more devoid of emotion. Depressed. And you couldn’t do anything about it.

Prentiss appeared right in front of you. She noticed you were on the phone, so to avoid interrupting you, she tried to convey something silently. With her thumb, she pointed toward the main deck of the jet. From the movements of her lips, you were able to read, “Hotch is calling everyone.”

“Don’t think I’m going to let this topic go,” you said again to your brother. You could imagine him rolling his green eyes. “I have to get back to work; I’ll call as soon as I have time. Don’t get into trouble and take care. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You ended the call and noticed a smile on the brunette’s face. Together, you joined the rest of the team.

“I heard part of your conversation,” she confessed. “Don’t tell me you have a kid that you’re hiding from us?”

“Who’s hiding what from whom?” Morgan chimed in as he walked in, holding two huge cups of coffee. He handed one of them to Reid.

Prentiss nodded in your direction.

“Did you know that y/n has a kid?”

You nudged her.

“I don’t have any kids. I was just talking to my brother,” you explained briefly. You didn’t like discussing your family, even with friends. In fact, you were often accused of being too secretive.

“I didn’t even know you had a brother,” Reid added, frowning. 

He, along with the rest of them, looked at you with mild surprise. You muttered something under your breath, shrugging. You felt a bit embarrassed that your family was the center of the discussion. You were saved from the awkwardness by your own boss.

“Can we start?”

JJ handed out the case files. As soon as you opened yours, you were met with an exceptionally graphic scene.

“ The bodies were discovered by someone from the forestry service, but according to the local police, anyone could have found them. It wasn’t hidden very carefully, as if someone didn’t care about it being discovered. A man and a woman, both decapitated. Before you ask, the heads were found in the same place as the rest of the bodies. Except for that, no serious injuries, just a few minor bruises and scratches. As if they were trying to defend themselves while they still could. “

No one spoke; the only sound was the turning of pages as the whole team focused intently on analyzing the photos. Your brows lowered in concentration, your entire face tense. Maybe you looked at things like this every day, but that didn’t mean it had become pleasant or that it didn’t disgust you. Sitting across from you, Reid was the first to speak.

“What do we know about the victims?”

At that same moment, as JJ spoke up again, you flipped the page and were met with two photos that looked like they’d been pulled from a social media account. Both people were alive, happy. The man was crouching next to a young boy who seemed to be pulling away, unwilling to be in the picture with his father. In the background, there was a garden, a tall white fence typical of American suburbs, and a slide. You barely stopped yourself from glancing at Hotch — he had a son around the same age, and this case might hit him particularly hard. The woman in the photo wore square glasses, with a cheerful, friendly gaze peeking out from beneath them. Round cheeks, a wide smile.

"Andrew Ward, 37 years old. He was one of the city councilors. He had a wife and one son, and he’d lived in this town his entire life. Then there's Jessica Larsen, the deputy mayor—she and her husband were both heavily involved in public life."

“A city councilor and the deputy mayor?” Prentiss repeated, thoughtfully resting her elbow on the arm of her seat. “Does anyone else feel like this could be some kind of score-settling? Revenge? Maybe from someone who was wronged by the city council over… I don’t know…”

"Higher bills," you said absentmindedly, blurting out the first thought that came to mind, immediately wincing at your own foolishness. You were still distracted by the conversation with Jeremy. You pinched your arm, trying to force yourself to focus on the case.

"Raising bills doesn’t typically drive people to murder," Reid corrected, pausing to glance at the files again. You never felt embarrassed when he pointed out your mistakes—he had a way of doing it so skillfully and politely. "Prentiss is on the right track; it could be revenge. Our UNSUB might hate authority due to some personal experience, maybe sees themselves as an anarchist, though it's hard to lean in that direction with so little information. Garcia, have you checked if the victims were connected in any way?"

The blonde woman on the laptop screen nodded.

"I’ve checked everything I could find about them, but unfortunately, I couldn’t uncover a single connection that might move the case forward."

Hotch raised a hand, stopping you from further speculation.

"That’s not all," he began, looking at each of you in turn. "Right after those two bodies were found, three more were discovered."

Morgan raised his eyebrows high.

"Five bodies? No wonder they called us in."

"And here’s where our biggest problem arises," your boss continued “Look at the photos. These three bodies were also decapitated but except for that, treated in a completely different way”

You turned the page again, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Other victims were killed with much more brutality, all covers in cuts and bruises. It was even hard to define their gender, but when you looked at the description you knew that this time, they were all women."Were two different people responsible for this?" Prentiss asked.

“Two murders cutting their victims' heads in such a small city?” spoke up Rossi, skeptically. 

"I don’t think it’s two different killers," you said hesitated, unable to look away from the photos. As you studied them, you absorbed every detail, trying to imagine the murderer inflicting these injuries. If anyone could have peered into your mind at that moment, they might have gotten serious PTSD. “Just…take a look at the wounds. There’s much more on these women and are visibly more brutal. But they look like they were inflicted by the same hand, the same person. The placement is often consistent," you noted. "How much time passed between the murders?"

“We haven’t gotten this information yet" said Hotch. "But based on my experience, I can say we’re looking at a matter of weeks."

You noticed that Reid was watching you closely. It seemed he was doing it unconsciously. When you sent him a questioning glance, he slightly blushed and immediately cleared his throat.

“I’m curious about what y/n said,” he admitted. It was clear to see the many calculations and analyses happening in his mind. This was evident in the increasing pace of his speech. “It really does look like the same person, but in different circumstances, perhaps influenced by different emotions. Maybe even with different motives. I realize the possibility of that is close to zero, but what if we’re dealing with a murderer with multiple personality disorder?”

A silence fell as everyone contemplated Reid's words. You made eye contact with him again — your tracks of thought began to overlap, your conclusions intertwining. Looking at his face, you felt, in a way, smarter and understood; it became easier to connect the fragments of ideas that had surfaced in your mind.

You shook your head.

 "No... I'm not sure. I understand what you're saying, but it seems to me that this isn't entirely true in our case. Your theory would suggest that two different personalities of our UNSUB committed these crimes, but in such cases, the crimes usually contrast more with each other. It's much harder to connect them, and here... I immediately noticed that this was the work of the same person."

Reid leaned in with interest over the table. Everyone seemed to look at you encouragingly, waiting for you to continue your theory. Yet you only took on a resigned, apologetic posture — nothing else came to mind. Any potential ideas felt too chaotic; some instincts accompanied you, but it was nothing you wanted to share out loud. You felt that they wouldn't help at all.

"We'll definitely know more after seeing the crime scene," Hotch stated, closing his files. With that, he ended the official discussion, giving you time to review the photos alone and think everything over one more time.

That’s exactly what you focused on for the rest of the meeting. You sat with one leg crossed over the other, a closed folder resting on your lap. You didn’t need to look at the photos anymore; you just needed to close your eyes and listen to your intuition. It definitely had something to say about this case. You just weren’t sure what…

Just before arriving at the scene, Hotch asked to speak with you privately. You couldn't hide it; you felt a bit anxious.

Maybe it was about your recent distraction. Of course, it was about your worry for your brother, but that shouldn’t have been an excuse; nothing should be distracting you. Or maybe he wanted to discuss something completely different, and you had just imagined this whole scenario in your mind. Knowing you and your tendency to overthink, both options seemed equally likely.

 "As I mentioned, y/n, I need to talk to you about something. It’s regarding your accommodation."

First, you breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t anything more serious. Then, your eyebrows raised in surprise. Accommodation?

"There have been some issues with the hotel we’re planning to stay at," Hotch continued. "We couldn’t secure separate rooms for each of you. You’ve been assigned to share a room with Reid. If that’s a problem for you, we can always look for another place, but that would mean you'd be away from the rest of the team..."

“No, it’s not a problem,” you assured him, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. You were relieved that the conversation didn’t involve any serious issues, just a trivial problem with the room. Besides, why would it bother you to share a room with Spencer? It was only for a few nights. "I was afraid you wanted to talk to me about something else," you blurted out.

“About what?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Oh, nothing,” you replied quickly and somewhat squeakily.

Hotch smiled slightly at your reaction, but his gaze seemed to analyze you closely.

 Oh you idiot, why couldn’t you just shut up? you thought to yourself as you walked away.

*

The weather decided to play a trick on you.

 As you were driving to the crime scene, the waterfall was sliding down the windshield, almost making it impossible to see anything. In any case, there wasn't much to look at. After passing the main part of the town, you were surrounded only by forest — trees shimmering in shades of orange.

The view didn’t impress you much. You definitely preferred warm, sunny weather and lounging in the sun, rather than freezing every day after stepping outside and dealing with frizzy hair from the humidity. You liked the town better. It felt small and cozy, as if it were taken straight out of Gilmore Girls.

Prentiss was behind the wheel, and you were sitting next to her in the passenger seat, while JJ was your navigator. The boys took a different car.

“So,” Emily began, turning left at the intersection with her eyes fixed on the road. “You care a lot about your brother, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, sinking deeper into your seat. Why did she have to bring this up again? It wasn't that you didn't trust them; you just didn’t like talking about your family. It wasn't even about being ashamed — why dwell on unpleasant topics? Besides, as was well known, you were private. You had to be incredibly close to someone to open up, and even then, you didn’t lay all your cards on the table.

Together with JJ, they looked at you kindly and encouragingly. You acted like you were fascinated by what was behind the glass. Soon, you arrived at the crime scene. 

That means, before you reached your destination, you had to walk quite a distance into the forest. Since it was late October, the days had grown particularly short, and you could already see the first streaks of darkness between the enormous trees that seemed to watch you with their ancient gaze.

If you hadn't had the girls with you, you would have felt a thrill on your spine. 

The location where the bodies were found had been secured very thoroughly. Local police cars gathered there, and soon the rest of your team arrived. You glanced at your muddy shoes and made a mental note to start dressing more appropriately for the weather from tomorrow on.

The rain intensified. Emily pulled her hood tighter around her head. 

“Working in these conditions...'"

Her sentence was interrupted by the appearance of an incredibly tall man, somewhat resembling a bear. Long hair protruded from under his sheriff's hat, and he seemed to be about the same age as Hotch, with whom he immediately shook hands. 

“Agent Hotchner, we're from the FBI.'"

"Sheriff Russell” he introduced himself, pressing his hand to his forehead with concern. 'I've never seen anything like this, and I've seen a lot. I can't believe anyone from this town could do something like this; I know these people and...'"

“Can we see the bodies?" you asked. It was getting dark, and you wanted to get as good a look as possible. There was something intriguing about this case that had unsettled you since the moment you first opened the file.

Without waiting for an answer, you and Emily moved toward the secured area. Despite the circumstances, the corner of her mouth twitched.

"God, I hate this chatter," she sighed in annoyance. "I know these people; they’d never do something like this," she mimicked the sheriff’s deep voice. "Neighbors of serial killers always say that. Someone can be polite in conversation and keep five bodies in their basement — it’s not mutually exclusive."

You stifled a laugh. 

"Don’t forget the how could he have done it? He always said good morning in the hallway!"

“Or about kids. Sure, he was killing small animals since he was four and had a knife collection, but deep down, he was polite! I can't believe he shot up half the school…”

Hotch appeared right next to you, so you cut her off with a firm elbow jab. You accidentally hit her in the ribs, causing her to let out a groan. This only intensified your incredibly inappropriate amusement. Your boss was standing so close, so you covered your mouth under the guise of a cough. 

In the next thirty minutes, the laughter faded away.

You began by examining the bodies of the first victims, in chronological order. These were the three brutally murdered women. The whole scene seemed to be waiting for your arrival. Not a single detail had been altered, making it easier for you to connect emotionally with the situation. Most of the profilers you knew were meticulous about keeping their feelings detached from their work. It was the only way to endure this job for more than a year without committing suicide. You applied that strategy yourself, but not entirely.

When investigating a case, you tried to imagine yourself in both the shoes of the perpetrator and the victims. Often, you would close your eyes, attempting to visualize and feel it all in vivid detail. To step away from pure theory and let intuition take over.

It was likely the reason that, for the past year since you started this work, you hadn’t imagined a day without at least one tranquilizer and a sleeping pill.

After thoroughly examining the first crime scene, you drove to inspect the next one. This time, the victims were two people connected to the city council. The previous victims had been a teacher, a former resident of the orphanage, and a social worker. When you learned this, a heavy feeling settled at the back of your mind. You were certain there was a connection between these victims.

"Let’s consider what drives the unsub to remove the victim’s head" Rossi suggested.

Before you could even define the meaning of the question, Reid rushed to answer.

"Decapitation is one of the most symbolic acts of violence. The head represents thought, intellect, and control. By removing it, the killer may be expressing a need to destroy those aspects. It could also be a form of humiliation, a metaphorical stripping of their power and authority," he explained in a slightly robotic tone, as if reciting from a Wikipedia entry.

You smiled subtly at the thought. He noticed and gave you a questioning look, which you chose to ignore.

“That would fit for the two later victims," Morgan said, resting his hands thoughtfully on his hips. "They were on the city council — the unsub might have felt he was stripping them of authority and power. But how does that apply to the others? A social worker, a teacher, and an orphanage employee?"

You fixed your gaze on your dirty shoes, Derek’s question echoing in your mind.

 What was it all about?

*

You’d forgotten your sleeping pills.

Once more, you searched your toiletries bag, where you usually kept them. Not a trace.

You pressed your lips tightly together, angry with yourself. Your sleep problems weren’t that serious — were caused mainly by overthinking and constant worry. You didn’t have the motivation to take care of yourself in that regard. It was much easier to rely on the medication, and as long as it worked. Sometimes you forgot that you were even struggling with it at all.

“Is something wrong?” Reid asked, stepping out of the bathroom. Following Hotch’s words, you were sharing a room with him. “You seem upset.”

You shook your head dismissively.

“I just forgot something.”

Only then did you look at him. He was wearing plaid pajama pants and a gray t-shirt. You realized it was the first time you’d seen him in such casual, everyday clothing. He usually wore shirts, blazers, and vests — somewhat grandpa-like, but you thought it suited him well.

You realized you had been staring at each other in silence for quite some time. To break the awkwardness, you cleared your throat and decided to return to one of the exhausting topics.

“There’s something strange about this case. You know, I’ve thought a lot about your theory regarding personality disorder, but something doesn’t sit right with me. Aside from the fact that it’s very, very rare, it’s just… my intuition doesn’t agree with it. I hope I don’t sound like a shaman. 

Spencer bursted out and sat on the edge of his bed. In your room, only the standing lamp illuminated the space, casting a dim orange light around. Despite that, you could see the thoughtful expression on his face.

“We once dealt with a case where the unsub was struggling with that very disorder. He was abused as a child and developed a separate personality, Amanda, who harmed men similar to his abuser,” he shared in a quiet, less confident tone than the one he used on the jet. He must have been tired after a long day at work, and like you, frustrated that you hadn’t found anything.

Above all, the circumstances were different. Your conversation had shifted to a more personal level, concerning two friends rather than coworkers. 

“Do you see any similarities between these two cases?” you asked, intrigued since you had never dealt with a similar case yourself.

“Not exactly,” he shook his head. “At one time, I read a lot about that disorder. There was another instance where we had an unsub who…” he trailed off, a visibly tense expression crossing his face.

“It’s okay,” you quickly reassured him. You didn’t know what was bothering him, but it was clear he regretted bringing it up at all. You had never been one to push for more; you often felt uncomfortable with certain topics, and you were incredibly grateful when someone recognized your withdrawal and changed the subject. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks” he whispered. But I think there’s something to your intuition. This whole case is exceptionally peculiar.”

““Well, you can call me a shaman now. By the way, are you planning to go to bed already?”

“And you?” he replied with a question of his own. “Actually, I’d prefer to read for a while, but I don’t want to disturb your sleep…”

Your broad smile clearly surprised him.

“I was hoping you’d say that. I wanted to spend some time with a book too”

In fact, it didn’t stem from your desires at all. You loved reading, but your brain was usually too tired for it in the evenings. However, you were aware that falling asleep would take you an unusually long time, and you preferred to make use of that time rather than stare at the ceiling.

You pulled out the only novel you had brought, Kafka on the Shore. You were about halfway through. Then you remembered you had meant to call your brother, but when you glanced at the clock, you realized that due to the time zone difference, it was already late at night for him. You sighed with a pang of guilt. You promised yourself you would do it tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” you said when you both agreed it was finally time to go to sleep.

“Goodnight, shaman” he responded. 

You smiled in your pillow. 

part 2?

[letoasai]

dp x dc 2 Mother Gotham

 I had... zero intention of continuing this.... and i still.. have zero intention of continuing... lol i don’t know how this part 2 happened XD Please enjoy or feel free to take it   ~

Part 1      Master List  Constantine stared. 

He’d had very, very little time to learn everything he thought he needed to know about the Ghost King through his contacts and as an adult, he didn’t like what he’d heard so far. He might not be the most responsible bloke but damn it, he wasn’t okay with a fourteen year old taking on so much pressure after what was likely a traumatic death. 

He learned very little other than how young he was, how well liked he was, and how he’d not only earned the respect of many ancients, but befriended them. A good section of his contacts refused to answer any questions about him at all, stating at they didn’t want to cause trouble for the king. 

It was commendable but fucking frustrating. He had to find his boy and his sister and take them to both Lady Gotham and Batman. He’d had a headache all night. 

Constantine wasn’t a stranger to the occult, not by a long shot. He was rather the Justice League’s resident expert, but his lack of knowledge surrounding Amity Park was inexcusable. He had no idea how an entire town went unnoticed but he was going to find out. 

The amount of liminals in one place was ridiculous but he’d have to actually go there to gather more information on these teenagers. As things were, he was waiting at the Gotham welcome Center at the appointed time and was always startled by the amount of activity there. People coming and going. Gothamites were unfazed by the gloom of the city and newcomers were often transfixed by their first taste of a city that harbored so many curses. 

Few were able to understand that it was Lady Gotham stretching her non-corporeal limbs. 

He’d only been there an hour, and he had no description of these teenagers. He should have just asked Bruce. The man had probably somehow already tracked down everything on these kid right down to their favorite colors, but he hadn’t honestly thought he’d need anything like that. Turns out... he was right.

Constantine had just lit another cigarette when the room got cold. He glanced around the room, eyes zeroing in on a hooded figure, a NASA logo printed across the front. He slid up to a vending machine, pushing a dollar in and punching in the numbers for whatever snack he wanted. 

The kid was so unassuming. He could have been any random teenager. The strangest thing about him was that he had a thermos dangling off his belt and stars had been drawn on his shoes in what looked like marker. 

He bent to pick up his snack, but when he turned, he was already pinning Constantine with a stare. 

He wasn’t used to a kid being the one to pick him out in a crowd, but this one…well… Constantine wasn’t about to question his qualifications as royalty. When Constantine did nothing, the teens head cocked to the side in confusion. It was a far too long moment where they did nothing but stare at one another from across the room. 

The staring contest was broken when a red headed young woman exited the nearby bathroom and slid up behind her brother, a hand on his shoulder and a question on her lips. She was definitely liminal, and not as human as they both likely had been once. Not that that mattered to him. It was just one more piece of information to file away for later. The Ghost King silently nodded in his direction, and now there were two piercing gazes in his direction.

 There was something about the sister he couldn’t put his finger on but it would be a bloody cold day in hell before he purposely pissed her off. She was definitely the type to be her brothers keeper, and someone with that kind of sway over the Ghost King was no one to fuck around with. 

He inhaled once more, enjoying the smoke filling his lungs before he hauled himself off the bench he’d been occupying to head towards them. 

“Welcome to Gotham. I’m your one man welcoming committee.” He greeted.

 “Who sent you?” The redhead asked. 

“Got a name?” The Ghost King asked right after. 

They were paranoid, but he didn’t blame them for that. Whatever had them running likely wasn’t friendly. The boy's eyes were rimmed with dark circles and there were bruises along his jaw and neck. His sister wasn’t injury free either. She was holding one of her arms to her chest. Possibly a dislocated shoulder or elbow. “John Constantine. Member of the Justice League Dark.” 

He never would have introduced himself like that normally but he was dealing with a King and well... spooked kids. 

“Dark?” The brother and sister exchanged a look. 

Constantine grunted. “We deal with the magical nasties and what not. I was summoned to Gotham to greet you, Majesty.” 

The Ghost King didn’t wince, but there was a tick to his jaw.  “Danny.” He corrected. “This is my sister, Jazz.” 

“Who was it who summoned you?” Jazz asked, her good arm wrapped around one of her brother’s. 

Constantine nodded to Danny. “His mother. Dunno your full story, but i was led to believe this was your actual mother.” 

Danny’s lips pinched. “That is what Clockwork said…” He muttered to his sister who nodded, though she didn’t look overly trusting. 

“And you have no connection to the GIW?” She bulldozed right through. 

Constantine’s eyes narrowed. “Bloody fuck is that?” 

They exchanged another look. “The Ghost Investigation Ward.” 

“The fuck?” He inhaled again, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth. “What’s their problem?” 

Danny’s brows lowered, a soft, quiet, and mostly certainly deadly sort of anger in that look. “Hunting and experimenting on my people for sport.” 

Constantine tsked, but it did nothing to truly betray how pissed off that made him. “Sounds like a couple of pretenders messing around in my neck of the woods. Thanks for the tip. I’ll be looking into that.” He paused to pull out his cell phone and make a note of them. “No, I’m a right bastard for sure but meddling with the Infinite Realm is a major no-no.”

The Ghost King’s ire lessened somewhat, but the faint glow to Jazz’s eyes hadn’t yet waned. “Why were you picked to escort us?” 

“Probably because i’m one of few around that could hear the call. Your mother has been making arrangements for the both of you. I’ll take you to her first and then to where you’ll be living.” They weren’t a very trusting pair, but he had to assume they had every reason to be cautious. 

Danny finally heaved a sigh and took his sister’s hand. “Fine. It’s a leap but only a lunatic would claim to be in the Justice League when they weren’t.”

 Constantine didn’t react to that, he didn’t want to worry the kid about how many lunatics there actually were. The laugh he’d have over this kid looking like Wayne adoption bait would have to wait. 

“Besides, one wail will take out a good chunk of Gotham, so i’m sure you won’t do anything stupid.” Danny continued. 

“Noted…” Constantine said dryly. He was getting shitfaced tonight. 

~

 Danny rather liked Gotham. Sure he’d barely seen any of it but the ambient ectoplasm was more than enough to sustain him. There weren’t many people who could say that kind of thing energized them but Danny sure could. Jazz could to a lesser extent. It was almost like home, except hopefully less volatile. 

Constantine showed them to his car that smelled like alcohol, cigarettes and magic and took off with them. He didn’t even seem to mind Danny opening and eating his bag of chips. He knew Jazz wasn’t in a trusting mood. He wasn’t either but Clockwork had told him bits about his mother. Had told him to follow his core and he’d find his mother. So far… he was satisfied with the direction they were headed. 

He stifled a yawn but tired tears sprung to his eyes anyway. He had no idea what time it was anymore. Gotham was so dark but there were people out on the street. It could have been noon or midnight and he was too lazy to even pull out his phone and check. It didn’t matter when his master plan was to get himself and Jazz somewhere safe and then sleep for hours. 

When Constantine finally pulled his car to a stop and got out, it had started to drizzle just a little. It wasn’t enough rain to even really get them wet, it was just vaguely annoying. The streets were startlingly vacant compared to the ones they’ve driven passed before and this was obviously an older section of the city. 

Having just arrived, Danny and Jazz didn’t know all the districts in Gotham yet but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that this wasn’t main street. Constantine headed towards an old bridge, pieces of it having crumbled away from age but the architecture had obviously once been top tier. 

“Where are we?” Jazz asked, keeping close to Danny, her voice only just above a whisper but Constantine heard her. 

“The meeting point.” 

Danny frowned, but he held out an arm to keep his sister behind him. His core fluttered in his chest, and he recognized that something was coming. He tried to pinpoint exactly what it was but the feeling was something altogether new though it reminded him of Clockwork or Pandora. 

With a gentle wave of power, she appeared. A woman, cloaked with gargoyle like features. She could have been made of stone but she approached them cautiously. “Daneil.” She whispered, and he felt her voice wash over him with emotion. Pride. Pride. Pride. Regret. Pain. Joy. 

Confused. Relaxed. “Was that my name?” he asked. He’d been so terribly small when the Fenton’s had caught him but he could see how his name could have gotten twisted around at some point. “Are you…?” 

Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. 

“This is Lady Gotham.” Constantine said, probably for Jazz and Danny’s benefit. 

She moved, fazing in and out of existence and stopping just out of reach. “Son…” she whispered, the emotion nearly dropping him to his knees. All of her attention was on him. When was the last time he’d had that from a parental figure? 

Danny stared back at her, her green eyes so familiar. He reached up to touch his cheek under his own blue eyes. It was a wonder she could even recognize him. Sure he felt the same but he was half human. Half alive. That didn’t matter to her? 

Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. 

Danny exhaled shakily, falling into his shift. The rings of light circled around his middle before spreading out and revealing his ghost half. White hair topped with a black crown and green eyes matching the spirits. 

Constantine cursed softly under his breath, taking several steps away. 

“Oh, don’t be a wuss.” Jazz chuckled. “He’s not after you.” 

“Not taking any chances with all that,” he said. 

Danny couldn’t help his faint smile at that. “Daneil.” Lady Gotham reached out slowly, cupping his face. She didn’t feel like stone for all she looked like it. She was cool to the touch and he wondered what her core was. She felt familiar. Like he’d met her before. That made sense if she were his mother but after all this time, there was this connection that clicked into place.

 I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Lost you. Lost you. 

Here now. Here now. “It’s okay.” Danny muttered, barely even registering that the bruises on his face were disappearing. “It’s not your fault.” He dared to move, stepping into her space to hug her. She trilled in affection, holding him tightly while Danny chirped his automatic response. When was the last time Maddie had hugged him? 

Jazz could make him purr or chirp in affection but had his parents ever? He’d known Lady Gotham for all of a handful of minutes and already he felt safe in her haunt. It was far safer than his in Amity. 

Welcome. Welcome. Missed you. Missed you. “Daneil.” She said his name like a prayer. Voice quiet but filled with affection. 

“Guess i’m staying here for a while.” He muttered, his core humming. He pulled away from the hug, silently wondering if he’d ever grow horns or something like Lady Gotham when he glanced back over at his sister. She was waiting patiently, still cradling her arm. He’d managed to pop it back into it’s socket but it was terribly tender. “What do you think?” 

“I’m staying if you’re staying.” Jazz said simply. 

“Good child.” Lady Gotham whispered. She vanished from in front of Danny and reappeared next to Jazz. Thank you, Thank you. Thank you. 

Jazz couldn’t always make out the words in emotions but she felt them all the same. Her smile was warm. “He’s my little brother. I love him. I had to come along.” 

She hadn’t. She could have lived a normal life. She could have left him behind. She didn’t have to act as his shield when their parents found out about him. She didn’t have to but she did. She’d never abandoned him. 

Welcome. 

“We’ll figure it out, Jazz. Promise.” 

Lady Gotham reached slowly, taking Jazz’s hands. Thank you. Her immense power shifted again and Jazz gasped in surprise. Danny raised a brow but grinned at the drop of Gotham’s power that flowed into his sister. It sped her healing up, taking away the ache in her arm. He guessed Jazz would become a stronger liminal than she already was. 

Constantine cursed again. “This just doesn’t happen…” he muttered. 

Danny could tell though, his mother was amused. 

“Jasna.” Lady Gotham spoke clearly, pleased with herself. 

“Wait… what?” Jazz looked confused, trying to read the emotions that were being sent to her. It was a mouthful, and amounted to… The sister of my son is also mine. 

“Renamed by an ancient…” Constantine was shaking his head, pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket. Names were powerful… you couldn’t just hand them out… But he was not about to argue with Lady Gotham. 

Danny snickered. “You can still keep your nickname, Jazz.” He felt… calm. He was happy to be here. He liked Gotham because it was safe and his mother was here and everything suddenly felt like it would be okay after all. He and Jazz could start over. 

“Jasna…” Jazz repeated, testing it out. “Thank you.” After everything that had happened.., she could use a mother figure.

Lady Gotham seemed so satisfied. She turned back to Danny, hugging him again, even the wings on her arms fluttered with delight to have her child back. 

My son. My son. 

Danny smiled, wondering if it was like this for all ghost children when their parents were near. He’d have to call Ellie and have her swing by to see if she felt the same way he did. “We’ll figure everything out…” He paused and looked back at Constantine. “You were taking us somewhere else too?” 

“Yeah.” He was flicking his lighter on and off, likely considering another smoke. “Lady Gotham is entrusting you to someone who will also have a hand in keeping you safe. She hand picked him and everything.” 

“We just need an apartment… and…” Jazz frowned a little. They’d talked about it a little and Danny had hated the idea of his sister giving up on school for even a week. 

“Not necessary.” Constantine said dryly. “You’ll be fine.” 

“Where…are we going exactly?” Danny asked, looking at his mother again. He was so strangely pleased that they had the same eyes. 

She laughed, actually laughed. He felt her excitement in her bones. She pointed up into the air and only a few beats later, the bat signal was spread across the sky, glowing against the smog and clouds. 

“That’s…” Jazz blinked, who could have planned for this? 

“No way.” Danny stared at the glowing signal. Everyone knew what that meant. He looked to Constantine again who only nodded his confirmation. His mother was still laughing, enjoying the moment. “We’re staying with Batman!?” ~~ ~~

I really didn’t intend to continue this, i’m not sure it’ll happen again. I have no confidence in writing for the Batfam. If anyone is interested, go for it. 

Tag list. 

@meira-3919 @choppedphantomsweets @kisatamao @thewondersoflebanon @emergentpanda-blog @epilepticnerd @paroovian @blep-23 @addie-lover-of-stories @phoenixdemonqueen @bianca-hooks123 @crystallicedart @observethevoid @jaytriesstuff @skulld3mort-1fan @icedbluesoul @rosecinnamonbun @nixthenerd @oterion @lexdamo @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @villian-lover7899 

[daryltwdixon]

Kinktober #5

Edging

soooo sorry I've been slacking on these! I'm so invested in The Promise of Us I've barely thought about them lolol but hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut, all p*rn no plot :), dirty talk, Daryl is rough (but you love it of course)

“You’re doing so good, baby, you can hang on a little longer,” Daryl’s rough, sex drunk voice growls in your ear. He has you in his lap on the bed, your bare back against his clothed chest. It was utterly unfair at the moment— he’s completely clothed but he had stripped you down when you came into the room, unable to contain himself when he got back from his day of hunting.

His fingers swirl around your entrance, grazing your engorged clit, making you shiver. 

“Please,” you breathe. He hums in your ear, his two digits dipping into your slick entrance. Your back arches as he curls them up, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit. His free hand is kneading your breast and his legs tangle over yours, spreading you open for himself. His boots dig into where your feet curl against him in pleasure, but he holds your legs tight in his, spreading you even further as you squirm under his touch.

The pressure that’s been building over and over in you is right at its peak, ready to release any second, but as Daryl feels you constrict around his fingers, nipples hardening and your back tense against him, he pulls from you, grazing his wet fingers along your thigh, his hand rubbing you softly. His lips are on the column of your throat as you shake with overwhelming stimulation, the loss of your high. Your eyes brim with tears of frustration— from being brought to the edge over and over with no release. Daryl brings his hand up to cup your face and turn you to face him. He kisses your lips sloppily, and you whine into him. All you want is to touch him, for him to give in and flip you over and fill you. You feel so overwhelmed but frustrated at the lack of release that you still squirm now, even when his hands are gently, lovingly, slowly rubbing your thighs. 

As he releases your lips, he drags them across your face, kissing your tears. He would never want to see you cry, not really, but he knows how much you love edging— the feeling of finally getting to come undone after being turned into a blubbering mess, building and building with no release until he tells you to. He loved seeing just how far he could push you, knowing how much you loved it, even if you got flustered and frustrated in the moment. The way you would quiver under his smallest touches, even the brush of his lips on your neck could make you come undone when his fingers were inside you. 

His rough calloused hands travel over both of your thighs as you gasp in air, your chest rising and falling as you try to gather your breath back. He never knew he could make a woman feel so utterly blissful, never knew anyone would want him like this. To continue to be allowed to have his hands on you everyday, and that you would crave him just as much as he did you. Every time you let him see you like this, all he could think was how much you looked like an angel. A sweaty, flushed, beautiful angel. But the thing was, he was putty in your hands too, even when you weren’t even touching him. 

But it seems like after the first five times of bringing you to the edge, you’ve had enough. Once you get your breath back, you turn over, and he lets you squirm out of his hold. You bring his face between your hands as you come up to your knees on the bed in front of him, and kiss him hard. Your fingers find his hair, and you tug gently on the strands that catch, and the whine that escapes his mouth makes you nearly crumble into him. What you thought was already a gushing wet center has turned into a puddle beneath you, needing to hear him make more noises. Your hands quickly fumble with the buttons of the front of his flannel, throwing it over his shoulders in a haste.

“So desperate for me, hmmm?” He gravels as he pulls his sleeves off, throwing his shirt to the side. His hands find your waist, eager to feel your skin against his. Your skin heats even more at the feeling of his muscled arms snaking around you, bringing you in close.

“Get these off for me, will ya?” He asks gently, leaning back and looking at the zipper of his pants. You lean back, just enough where he can still hang onto you and reach down, undoing his buckle, the button, and zipper as quickly as your trembling, needy hands could. You were in a hazy state of need, ravenous for what waited for you beneath them. Salivating at the mouth, you bring your warm hand down into his pants, pulling gently at the hardening cock, letting it spring out from its confines. You tease and play as you try to pull down the pants completely, but when you try to pull away from his touch, his fingers dig into your sides. 

“Mm mm,” he hums his objection, “tha’s good enough–need ya,” he whispers, craning his neck back against the headboard, reaching up to your face with his lips. The smile that spreads across your face must be teasing, because his eyes darken as he grabs the back of your head with one hand, pulling you in fast before you can get away from him. As he hungrily kisses you, his tongue pushing and pulling and dancing with yours, his other hand pulls you up just a hair, and you reach down to align yourself with him. Just the feeling of his tip sliding over your center is enough for you to moan, throwing your head back. He groans in response, but he smiles to himself as he watches you become a mess above him, and before you can waste any time with more teasing, he pulls you down fast and hard onto him. Your head comes up with a scream, but turns quickly into a moan as you feel him stretching you–splitting you in half the way he fills you up so perfectly.

“God, baby,” he growls, “‘s like your pussy was made for me,”

You begin rocking your hips, unable to take any more waiting, but he has other plans. Suddenly you’re being pushed onto your back on the bed, and he’s on top of you, all the while keeping inside of you, filling your walls so snugly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him in even deeper. He growls into your neck, almost a purr, both arms wrapping under and around you tight as he pulls you into him. His hips begin snapping hard and fast, and you can tell he’s losing control of himself, not caring to be soft or gentle. You didn’t want him to be. You’re moaning so loud you are almost certain your neighbors will be avoiding eye contact for a few days. The mewling coming from you is only driving him crazier as Daryl keeps thrusting himself into you.

“Daryl, ss–it’s too much,” you stutter, barely able to gasp in a breath, your hands finding his hair. You’re so overstimulated by his quick thrusts, the way his pelvis rubs against your clit every time, the smacking of his balls against you and the way he’s holding you so so tight against him, “Mmm gonna–c–cum if you don’---don’t stop,” you manage to moan out.

He slows his hips and releases you slightly around your body, his one hand coming to cage you in the side of your head as he looks down at you, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. You bring one hand around to push his bangs away from his face so you can look into the sex drunk blue eyes that look down at you. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Daryl did. Like you were a gift from God himself. His other free hand comes down between you, and your eyes go wide, shaking your head. Your hand in his hair grips the nape of his neck, and the other hand is pushing against his chest in objection. Oh god, oh god. It was too much, way too much. You couldn’t take it anymore, you were going to lose your mind if he didn’t let you cum in that moment. His thrusts slow to an agonizing pace, his thumb gently pressing down on your clit. The smile that flits across his face is almost teasing, but then he leans down, taking your lips in his, so tender and gentle, a stark contrast to his roughness moments before. He pulls back just an inch, so that when he speaks, you can feel his hot breath and lips moving around the words.

“Cum for me,” he growls, and suddenly his hips are smacking into you, his cock burying himself into you so deep it's all you can do to not scream his name as he continues, but he leans into you further, as he notices you holding back. His hand comes to your jaw as he puts his body weight on you, grabbing your face, “Nah-uh, baby, I wanna hear you. Your pussy already tells me ‘nough, the way it sucks me dry, pullin’ me into you so fuckin’ perfect–tell me, tell me how good you feel, angel,”

And then you really scream his name as you seize under him in pleasure.

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P32 | i am now a proud uchinaga 🫶🏻

You're sat beside the window, observing what was happening on the outside of the café (a girl walking her dog, a guy waiting to cross the road, a guy sitting on the bus stop bench) as you waited for the others to arrive. To your surprise, Aeri came in just right after you. You waved at her, pointing at the spot next to you. She lit up almost instantly, practically jogged to take the seat next to you.

She gave you a side hug, tucking her own head under your chin, making you giggle.

"I'm so glad you're opening up to us now, but if you feel like changing your mind, we won't put it against you." She said, placing a hand on your shoulder blade.

You let out a small smile.

"If I change my mind, I'll be losing Yangyang." You spoke quietly, and saw how her smile completely turned upside down.

"Yangyang's being unreasonable, Y/N. Seriously. Why would he put your friendship on the line like that? It's very—"

"Childish? Immature? Selfish? Self-centered? Trust me, I've said it all to him but it didn't get past his thick ass skull." Xiaojun's voice intercepted Aeri's, and both of you looked up to see both him and Yangyang were here now.

Yangyang didn't even bother to send him a dirty look and quickly took the seat across yours, with Xiaojun now designated to sit across Aeri. The waitress, finally seeing your table was now at 4 people, decided to come over with the menus to take your orders.

When the waitress left, you placed your arms on the table.

"Yangs."

"Y/N."

"Do you have anything to say to me? You know, just to get things out of the way first?" You smiled lopsidedly, not in that bad of a mood because you got to spend some time with Mark and Yuno yesterday, alongside Geonwoo and Woojin.

You had a blast introducing them to each other, mainly because Mark and Yuno's assumption of your neighbours being your sugar daddies nearly brought you to tears while Geonwoo and Woojin looked very apprehensive. They were basically your foster parents at one point in your life, when they had to fund your senior year in highschool. Like the cram school fees, bringing you along for a late back-to-school shopping, and Geonwoo's mom housing you before you got into college.

Sugar daddies? That's insulting.

And coincidentally, the sugar daddy misconception began with the very man before you—Liu Yangyang.

"I don't know—do you have anything to say to me first?"

Stubborn, capricious, prideful Yangyang.

With a very hard jab on the ribs, via Xiaojun's very sharp elbows, his composure slipped away with a pathetic yelp. Xiaojun put his face near Yangyang's, a pointer finger stabbing into Yangyang's shoulder while Xiaojun spoke through gritted teeth.

"You do have something to say, dipshit, and you're saying it first."

Yangyang continued groaning for a few seconds more before straightening his back.

"Alright, I'm sorry!—and this apology isn't forced, I swear. Berating you in the groupchat while you were handling the witch hunt was a dick move, and for this time I'll try to understand you if you decide to back out of this. After narrowly escaping being stabbed by Xiaojun last night, I finally understood that whatever it is you're trying to keep to yourself, it's obviously something very personal to you—but it's just...I just got really frustrated with the situation you were going through on your behalf and got insecure, so I lashed out on you." Yangyang rambled, but it wasn't fast paced and frenzied, it was slow and thought through, even though he didn't give you the chance to interrupt him.

You took hold of Yangyang's hand on the table.

"Yangyang, I'm sorry too, for making you feel insecure. I do consider you my close friend—sometimes I consider you a very annoying twin brother figure even. The things I've kept to myself aren't because I don't trust you, but it's something I haven't been able to move on yet. At least, not completely. I'm glad Xiaojun managed to beat you into understanding that."

Yangyang huffed out a scoff, "Oh, please. Xiaojun got to beat me yesterday because I didn't fight back. Otherwise—"

"Otherwise I could still beat your ass, motherfucker. Shut the fuck up." Xiaojun intercepted, and it had all four of you bursting out into laughter because of how much of a hardass he embodied for that line.

When all of you calmed down, you squeezed Yangyang's hand, pulling his attention.

"Okay, now that's out of the way, I guess I have to start explaining what exactly happened to me all those years ago."

"Y/N, if you're not ready—" Aeri placed her hand on your side, looking a little conflicted. She was glad that you were letting them in but also worried that you might've felt forced to do this.

"No, I'm ready. I am now."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I'm sorry, if you felt like you were forced to share this. The fact that you haven't finished processing this trauma yet..." Yangyang spoke in a serious manner, looking ashamed with himself.

"It's okay, Yangyang. Honestly, I had to stop acting like it never happened every time I'm with you guys. Especially now that Yuno and Mark are back into my life. I was going to have to fully acknowledge it at one point." You shook your head at Yangyang's nth apology for today, flashing him a smile that was not at all forced.

You looked outside the window for a moment, not noticing the guy you saw sitting on the bus stop bench from earlier was still there, sitting there still.

"It's not okay. I accused the guys who practically adopted you when you had nobody else to be your sugar daddies. God, if they knew I was the one who started this sugar daddy bullshit, they'd hate me...I don't wanna make a bad impression on them..." He groaned, and Xiaojun and Aeri also looked ashamed, because they had fed into that bullshit alongside him.

You laughed at their faces, bewildered with Yangyang's words.

"A bad impression? Yangyang, you're not meeting my parents or something. Besides, they already know about you guys, I talk about you often when I'm with them."

"I am practically about to meet your parents. These dudes took you in, helped put you back on your feet, and are still watching over you even when you're all grown now. I can imagine shitting my pants if they're ever right in front of me right now." Yangyang groaned again, rubbing his hands on his face just imagining how muscular these dudes could be as former MMA athletes.

"They'd like all of you in an instant, guys. Don't worry too much." You cooed before consuming the last bite of your pasta.

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : have fun with this fluff y'all! it's not gonna last long! cus im getting bored of y/n being so at ease and happy and safe. need this bitch to suffer.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

@spiderm444rk @morkiee @xiuriii @solvrse @neozon3nha @herebyaccident0 @injunnie-lemon @mystverse @dearmonamour @v-6893 @sehunniepot @bee-the-loser @nessaassen02 @luluvhs @sunghoonsgfreal @docilismo @neocrashed @soobinbunnie5 @cigarettesafterjae @dudekiss3r @kittydollzz @urlocalbeaner5 @polarisjisung @conwunder @wonupuppy @jae-n0 @413ktz @kimsaerom @meowtella @aerivrs @swanyvess @morkleesgirl @sthwaaberry @nominzn @grassbutneo @spicyryujin @koizekomi @sunflowerhae @markeroolee

[obsessedwrhys]

Hey so how do you think rise donnie would deal with a magical crush who is very chill with his tech and magic ramblings. He is in the room when April asks magival crush “is he bothering you? He can be a bit insufferable sometimes. He can’t just let things go and just accept magic as is”. And crush is like “oh. I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone thought rainbows were magical. They still are, but now you know how they work. I kind of like watching his big head try and figure this stuff out”?

A LOVE BEYOND LOGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ just lots of fluff and flirting (I went overboard with the flirting), reader does get hurt but it's just minor, used of (Y/N) but only once, I hope this is a good read ☹, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

It was another normal Tuesday for everybody in the lair, like always, you found yourself sunk into the bean bag your best friend plus boyfriend, Donnie, personally installed in his lab just for you. Well how he manages to become your boyfriend is a different story.

It all happened so fast, you were both blabbered about magic and science and suddenly he's pouring his heart out for you. What's more surprising is that this ain't exactly your home realm. You're pretty lucky enough to have score yourself a bunch of friendly people willing to let you stay at their place, not to mention be fine with your whole magical fiesta.

Anyways, you were concentrating on the game in your phone until you hear Donnie let out a frustrated groan. Curious, you looked to see him struggling with what seemed to be his next hopeful project. It's just not looking too hopeful right now.

"You okay?" You asked and his gaze darts towards you. He waves his hand dismissively.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I must have gotten the formula wrong" He said and at the same time, he walked over to the other table to check on his notes. You put your phone away before getting up to approach him.

"Can I help?" You asked.

You then stood beside him, your eyes examining how his hands are placed at both sides of the notebook as he has his head focused at it in the middle. His brows were slightly furrowed from trying to figure out what went wrong. Even with the stress, you can't help but find the concentration on his face somehow making him appear more attractive.

"No... no... I wouldn't wanna trouble you with this burden..." He muttered almost like a whisper since his mind is already preoccupied with focusing.

"Watching you torture yourself with this is already a burden" You joked and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You're right, I'll try my best to figure this out sooner" He shoots you a sweet smile before walking off to the table in the center that has his project on top.

"Maybe after this we can go exploring. You said you wanted to visit the museum right? If we're lucky enough, I can shut down the surveillance so we can go in undetected, it'll be like the place is ours" He said, putting on his safety goggles as he continues on his work. You couldn't help but feel all giddy inside just hearing him remember you telling him that a few days ago.

You clear your throat, calming yourself.

"That'd be awesome. I don't know if you know this but I can detect old magic in artifacts. Connecting with them makes me stronger" You grabbed an unfinished rubix cube from his shelf and began to play with it as you made yourself float. Even with your body levitating a few feet above him, he didn't mind but was more focused on the task at hand.

"Huh... is that why you're so eager to go? To make yourself more powerful?" He said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Not entirely, I did say I wanted to explore it with you" You said and just hearing you say that, he tried to bite back a smile, a sense of pride swelling up in his chest.

"Gaining power and spending time with me? You're awfully greedy. Are all magical beings like this from your realm?" He playfully teased and you couldn't help but let out a humoured scoff.

"Too bad it must just be me" You responded and it made him laugh to himself while shaking his head.

"What else should I be aware of about your powers?" He asks and you hummed as you thought it over.

"Well... my powers get crazy strong when I feel a strong emotion. Whether it be sad or anger. Somehow being overwhelmed can 'cause me to lose control" You said and it automatically caught his interest.

"Lose control?" He repeats while putting on gloves before using the angle grinder on the metal.

"Huh... I can understand why... the heightened emotions you feel can create a swirling vortex of energy that can overwhelm your conscious control, making it easily for you to lose any sense of control over yourself, it's almost inevitable" He asserted like he always does when he's invested with every new discovery about your magical abilities.

"Really? Are you saying that's a bad thing?" You raised an eyebrow as you finally landed beside him, at the same time Donnie stops using the angle grinder and puts it aside. He pulls over his goggles, letting it rest just above his head.

"Not exactly, there are other emotions that can also work... Magic is no different than science. There's always a different formula available to replace the other" He said, twisting some screws onto the machine and once he's done, he turns it on before stepping back to see it on and working.

"And maybe sometimes... different is better" He smiled, satisfied with his success. He then turn to look at you who seemed puzzled, in your hand holds the rubix cube you have yet to finish.

"I'm sort of getting it but what other emotions is there that doesn't involve me turning into a raging monster?"

"There is one... an emotion that makes you feel calm yet overwhelmed at the same time... but you'll have to fall"

"Fall?" You watch as he goes to the other side of the room to grab a handkerchief to wipe his face clean.

"Fall in love... can't be hard right?" He looks at you, his eyes warm like it'll be enough to melt you. The way he stares at you makes it seem as though you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You blush as you let out an awkward chuckle.

"Love? Are you saying that because half of the movies we watch, the main character happens to win in the last minute against the bad guy because of the power of love?" You joked, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating faster than it would.

"This is purely science. I don't recall any movies using that trope" He says and you couldn't help but tilt your head, your brows raised in disbelief.

"Beauty and the Beast"

"Hey he was cursed by a witch"

"Tangled"

"That was more about cutting her hair"

"Uh Hero? Frozen?!??! Every freaking Christmas movie ever created?!?!!" He stares at you, silent for a second and you can see from his face that he's thinking it over.

".... you had me at Frozen. Ah alright, you're missing the whole point of all of this" He approaches you and you can't help but try to at least avoid the effect he's having on you.

"What I'm trying to prove here is that maybe you can try focusing on that emotion. Maybe it can even save you out of a messy situation one day. Who knows?" He crosses his arms, a confident smirk on his face. You roll your eyes with a smile of your own.

"You and your science talk. I do appreciate it but sometimes it's a wonder you haven't talked my ear off" You joked and it makes him laugh once again.

"Oh please, my voice is not irritating, at least not compared to yours"

"Excuse me??"

Right as you finished talking, April enters. She stops in her tracks as she awkwardly shifts her focus from Donnie's face to yours. Sensing the clear look of annoyance on your face, she decides to step in between in whatever conversation you two are having.

"Hey now, I've been gone for only a few hours and you guys are already trying to tear each other down" She laughs half heartedly. Clearly sensing the shift of emotion in the atmosphere, Donnie shrugs as he chooses to walk back to his station.

"Oh well, and uh (Y/N), you should go with April. It's almost evening and you usually eats at this hour. I'll find you later" He says with his back turned to you. Not really caring much about it, you also shrug before turning the other way.

"I was gonna go eat anyways" You said but deep inside you could feel that flutter of emotion again. Without much complain, you decided to go to the kitchen to April, the rubix cube still in your hand.

You're seated at the chair and toying around with the cube that you failed to acknowledge the concern look on April's face. She hands you your plate of food before taking her seat beside you. It was when you both started eating that you finally notice. But before you can ask, she beats you to it.

"Are you okay? I saw your face back there and it seemed like you guys were arguing. Is Donnie bothering you again? I know how far he can go trying to experiment on you" She said and her words nearly caught you off guard. You're aware of her concern about your safety but you weren't sure she would be THIS concern. Especially directing it towards Donnie.

"Wait no we weren't arguing just now. He just said some stupid comeback at my joke. Besides, what makes you think he'd do that?" You asked and she turns to look at you as if your question was a dumb one.

"Um, hello? He's Donatello. The 'Magic is not a real thing' Donatello... Did you forget how he was trying to have you join his crazy experiments when you first got here??" She said and you couldn't help but laugh a bit from how unreal the situation you're in.

"Okay first of all, he doesn't hate magic. He's just amazed about it you know? It's like giving a baby their first taste of sweet candy"

"You're comparing him to a baby now?"

"It was just a metaphor"

"Fineeee!! But how is he okay with letting you hang around in his lab? Doesn't magic and science not work together?"

"Oof if that was the case then people would think that thunder and lightning was a sign of God's fury from above"

"Okaaay... you have a point but... why do you like hanging around in his lab? It doesn't seem to be your cup of tea" You look at her and you see a teasing grin on her face.

Oh boy.

"His lair is... quiet... it's comforting"

"Ah yes... the sound of him drilling for hours is very relaxing. Not to mention the loud noises of his hammer! Wh-What a paradise!!" She says while ending up laughing at her own sarcasm. You let out a defeafed sigh.

"Okay maybe I happen to enjoy watching him work. It's exciting!! Do you see the way he puts things together?" You said with pride that you failed to notice the smile on your face.

"Uh huh" She looks at you and its clear that she doesn't buy it one bit.

Minutes later after you both are done eating and chatting about your everyday lives, you found your way back into the lab.

As expected, you found Donnie in his chair and seemingly working on his next project. Seeing how busy he looks, you decided to just go back to your place on the bean bag... but the sound of your footsteps caught his attention. His eyes slightly perked up as he swung around in his chair to look at you.

"You're back so quick...?" He said, his tone coming off surprised.

"Yeah... why? Do you need some alone time?" You took a step back and he quickly got to his feet like he's trying to stop you.

"That's not what I meant... uh I need to ask you an offer" He then leaned his back against the table and from the way his eyes is struggling to maintain eye contact with you, you could tell it wasn't anything good.

"Do you mind if you could used your powers to give my machine a boost? I need to make sure if it's resistant from getting fried easily" He looks at you, his gaze making him appear hopeful that you'll be fine with that... and honestly why wouldn't you be?

"Sure, just tell me how much is too much" You walk over to the machine displayed on the center and he mirrors your action. You stand side by side as you gently place your hand on top of the core.

"How about we start with something small and we'll work our way up from there?" He suggests which you nodded in agreement.

Just like that, you activated your powers and at the same time made sure you weren't using too much of it. In relief the machine didn't blow up but was running just fine. Almost at the same time, You and Donnie exchanged thankful smiles when turning to look at one another. With the first stage cleared, you decided to up the heat a bit.

"ZZZzzzz" The machine buzzes a bit from the increased intensity of your powers but surprisingly it's still intact and working right.

"Alright... moment of truth..." You grit your teeth anxiously... then activated the full force of your powers.

⌁KRRRRK⌁

Almost like a flash, you could feel surges of electricity coursing through your vines so due to your instincts you quickly pulled your hand away cause of the pain. And for the machine it was now overloading but somehow still functioning. Before you could even do anything, Donnie is already by your side with a med kit in hand.

"Are you okay? I know you're an enhanced being but still that must have hurt" He places the kit on the table and opened it to take out anything you needed.

"Just a small wound" You said, showing him the tiny burn on your pinky. Instantly he's already treating it with the petroleum jelly.

You don't say anything but choose to watch him tend to your minor injury. From his body language you could tell that he was very focused on not hurting you in the slightest. Soon after he wraps a clean bandage loosely around your pinky, he looks at you with a wave of warmth on his face. How he looks at you so softly is making your heart beat like it did not long ago.

"So... are you still up for our visit to the musuem?" He asks and you chuckle in disbelief.

"Seriously? You're not gonna even explain why you invented this thing in the first place? Not after my effort of helping you out?"

"Oh that? I wanted to surprise you but since you asked, this is gonna be our one way ticket to shutting the surveillance off. Just stick this bad boy into the breaker and the cameras are out" He picks it up and effortlessly puts it into the back of the truck, you follow him not far behind.

"You built all that just to spend one night with me at the musuem?" You tilt your head and he freezes in place, his back facing you as he stands at the back of the van.

"Uh... yeah... why not?" He rubs his neck awkwardly. From that you could tell that you've somehow made him flustered. You laugh and the sound of you laughing made him turn around out of curiosity.

"What are you laughing about?" He said despite the movements of his lips beginning to form a grin.

"Nothing nothing..." You look at him, a smile still present on your face but soon you show him your pinky, the same one he helped bandage it up for you.

"Kiss it to make it better?" You said with your hardest attempt of making puppy dog eyes. He shakes his slightly out of amusement.

"Only because you asked" He takes a few steps forward and carefully holds your arm by the wrist before guiding it towards his lips. He kisses it delicately and while he does so, his eyes are remained locked on yours. The intensity of his gaze made you blush that you couldn't help but look away.

"There... is my baby done whining now?" He said with his hands now intertwined with yours. You roll your eyes as you let him pull you into his embrace.

"Yeah yeah... let's go to the musuem now smarty pants" He chuckles at your response with his arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers tracing gently down your spine.

"Should we watch a movie after we get back?"

"Frozen?"

"Perfect"

[sturnioloisland]

Keep reading, baby (NSFW) | C.S.

Pairing: Chris x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW below the cut. MDNI. This is for sure not proofread.

Summary: You’re trying to read your book, but Chris has an idea. That idea, however, turns out to be a little distracting.

You sat on the couch, book in hand, engrossed in the story you were reading. Ever since you joined that book club, you found a new love for reading. The only problem is that you were falling behind, and Chris was not helping.

“Babyyyy,” he whined, clearly not happy that you weren’t paying attention to him. It’s not that you were completely ignoring him. You were acknowledging some of the things he said, but you really were enjoying the book.

“Chris,” you said to him without breaking your attention from the book, “You know I’m reading.”

“But I’m bored, and you’re not paying any attention to me.” He complained. You met his gaze from your place on the couch, and now he’s happy that you’re finally paying attention to him.

“I’m falling behind on the book, and I want to make sure I’m all caught up for our meeting in a few days.” Chris pursed his lips, trying to think of a way to keep your attention, and very quickly did he come up with an idea.

“Read out loud to me.”

You raised an eyebrow. Never had he expressed any interest in reading or having you read out loud to him, “But you hate books.”

“But I love your voice.”

Well that settled it. You rolled your eyes playfully, and adjusted your position on the couch. He took this as an opportunity to lay closer to you — he was never one to miss an opportunity like that. He maneuvered his was to lay in between your legs with his head resting on your stomach as you began reading out loud. You felt silly doing so, but it’s what Chris asked.

As you read he ran his hands over your sides and over your stomach, deeply sighing. He loved hearing your voice. It helped him feel so…relaxed. He began peppering kisses over your clothed body in different areas. First, right near your sternum, next it was right in the middle of your belly, then on top of one of your thighs.

“Chris,” you huffed in a warning.

“Don’t mind me ma, just keep reading. I’m still listening.” He definitely wasn’t really. He slipped his hand under your shirt and began caressing your skin with his warm hands — still peppering kisses across your body. His hand moved down to your thighs and adjusted his body so his head was right between them. He raised your shirt and placed a kiss on your hips, and then your outer thighs, moving to kissing the inside of them as well.

You stumbled over your words, and Chris was not about to let that go unnoticed, “Baby,” he chuckled, “are you distracted? You’ve repeated that line quite a few times.”

Reading was beginning to become harder as the boy in between your legs was obviously doing a good job at distracting you. You had paused your reading to watch him kiss your thighs. “Keep reading, baby. You have some catching up to do, remember?”

He continued his actions until he decided that your shorts were in the way from what he really wanted. “I’m gonna take these off.” He mumbled against your skin, slipping off your shorts with ease and ran his fingers over your panties.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth on you baby?” You only nodded in response. “Words, use your words.”

“Y-yes, Chris, please.”

That was all the permission that he needed. He started placing light kisses over your center before attaching his lips and sucking on your clit, eliciting a moan from you. Your grip tightened on the book, and you were tying so hard to keep reading, but it was so hard to stay focused, and you let out soft moans instead of reading.

“I didn’t say stop reading, ma.”

“C-Chris, I can’t. You’re—”

“Keep reading.”

You let out a groan of frustration and pleasure. Chris traced his fingers over your thighs down to your center as he licked from your entrance up to your bundle of nerves. He was relishing in the way you were struggling to continue reading, and it was all because of him.

He detached his mouth from you and ran his fingers through your folds taking note of the shiver that ran through your body as he inserted one inside of you. “F-fuck Chris.”

He smirked up at you from between your legs and once again attached his mouth to you, pumping his finger in and out of you.

Finally having some mercy on you, “You can stop reading now, baby. Just don’t stop making those filthy noises for me.” You immediately dropped the book to the ground and tangled your hands in his hair tugging softly causing him to groan against your clit. He removed his mouth and fingers from you and sat up, so he was still sitting between your legs keeping them spread. Once comfortable, He inserted two fingers in you, slowly stretching you out even more.

“Atta girl, you’re taking my fingers so well.” He continued pumping them in and out of you, making sure to curl them to hit that sweet spot inside of you.

Your hands wandered down to the waistband of his sweatpants and slowly lower to grip him through his clothes cause him to groan. “You feel how hard you’ve made me? Go ahead, baby, take it out.”

You freed him from the constraints of the sweatpants and began matching the pace of his fingers. “It feels so good, Chris.” You moaned out, enjoying the feeling of pleasure his fingers gave you.

“I know it does baby, but your hand feels even better wrapped around me.” He inserted a third finger inside of you, and began fingering you even faster. His teasing from earlier and his current ministrations bringing you closer to your release.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum Chris.” You said while moving your hand up and down his shaft at a faster pace, chasing your high through the strokes of your hand wrapped around him.

“Let go whenever, baby. I got you. Cum for me baby.” He brought his other hand down the rub circles over your clit bringing you all the stimulation you needed to release all over his fingers. Your body clenched up, and your mouth fell open as your eyes squeezed shut and you whined at the pleasure you were feeling. He slowed the pace of his fingers down to help work you through your orgasm while continuing to circle the clit with his others.

When you finally relaxed your body after your orgasm, you continued stroking his cock eliciting deep groans from him. He removed one of his hands from your core and gripped your thigh. “F-fuck, baby. Keep doing that. Make me cum in your hand.” You quickened your pace as he moaned louder and brought his lips down to meet yours. “Cum for me Chris.”

You felt a tremor run through his body as he released into your hand, whines escaping from him which he tried to silence by kissing you through his orgasm. You slowed your strokes, breathing heavily. His head fell into the crook of your shoulder as he tried catching his breath - placing soft kisses on your body.

Once you both caught your breath, he kissed you on your lips and smiled, “You still have a chapter to finish reading, baby.”

A/n: I hope you guys enjoyed it :)

[who-is-page]

I've seen (typically older) therians talking about how they feel that their subculture as animal-people and nonhumans is slowly disappearing. This is a point that, in all honesty, I'm inclined to agree with-- although I think I'd perhaps frame it less as "disappearing" and more as just "changing."

Because let's be honest with ourselves here: is the subculture actually vanishing, or is it just evolving into radical new dimensions as excited newbies join and find different focal points for their nonhumanity? As they express themselves in whole new dimensions and ways, as they explore a digital landscape that didn't exist ten, twenty years ago? As the older members lose touch with the newer members, and no one bridges that gap between the two?

I think I'm also extra frustrated because when I see these discussions go down, a lot of the time they're either 1) self-pitying, or 2) finger-pointing.

It's not bad or wrong to look around and realize that the community you found comfort in has changed in ways you could have never predicted and which leave you feeling off-kilter. But approaching these changes with a complete lack of curiosity, with an absolute woe-is-me sort of perspective, where you drag your feet and glare bitter daggers at everyone else, isn't the way to do anything.

And going around trying to pin blame on whoever happens to be at hand is an even worse way to approach it. "It's the furry fandom's faults!" "It's the alterhumans' faults!" "It's the humans' faults!" Who does this approach realistically help? What does this do, beyond ostracize people and make whoever is saying it feel temporarily vindicated in their solitude, in a vicious cycle where they never step out of their ivory tower and always use how alone they are as "proof" that they're right?

I think having discussions about the ways the subculture has changed is extremely worthwhile. But I think that they're at their best when enthusiasm over sharing takes a main, central point. When you see people excitedly telling others about Werecards for the first time, or when you get to introduce someone to the concept of personal websites and webrings, or when you link someone who's only just starting to learn that there's others like them to old and new groups and forums alike. These are the ways you keep those traditions alive, these are they ways you get people both informed of and really excited about them.

And like, maybe I'm just cheesy and optimistic, but building bridges is way more fun than building walls! And more than that, I also think it's fundamentally something that's significantly more helpful and productive. I'm always so hype when I see community projects taking off that involve connecting many different people, especially if they're centered on a specific group or identity, but I also think that those sorts of things are how we keep a community healthy and moving, how we avoid things getting stagnant and rotting away.

I've said it before in past essays I've published and I'll say it again: alterhuman communities survive through their internal momentum. We're still around and kicking because we're a bunch of opinionated, passionate animals and objects and entities and people and concepts and and and-- this is what we are! This is how we all, both together and individually as separate groups, continue to be around. We write. We argue. We dance. We leave tracks. And then others see all those things, months or years down the line, and they know they're not alone. They know that it's okay to join in around the campfire, and they end up leaving their own tracks, and the cycle repeats.

So I guess what I'm saying here is that I'm not just beseeching people to create, but I'm asking you to create with others. To extend that paw towards the people around you in your immediate community spaces and wider, and to realize that yeah, the digital grains of sand and time might erode and change the landscapes we're all in, but we can still have a damn good time exploring the new nooks and crannies around us and showing others our old hidey-holes and favorite spots to watch the sun set.

[transformers-spike]

Knockout x Reader x Breakdown nsfw. Come on, I know you wanna

I will never recover from the predator/prey fic so here have something wholesome for once

“Fuck,” you hiss under your breath, barely taking in Breakdown’s spike. From sheer size alone, it feels like marching into a sex shop and demanding the giant dildo they use to attract tourists. Knock Out, cunty as ever, already has his far-too-soft-for-metal lips against your collarbone. If you were a sensible person, you would have shot down the mere mention of a threesome. Alas, the notion of trying this new thing called “mass displacement” called to you like a kid at a candy store. If you didn’t have the audacity to say yes, you would have missed the suppleness of Knock Out’s tongue and the unexpected gentleness of Breakdown’s fingers working you up. You love these guys enough to put up with their strange antiques and deal with their unusually-high-for-their-kind sex drive (or interface drive as Breakdown kindly pointed out before Knock Out immediately adopted the human lingo). They must have watched human porn, there’s just no way they haven’t – not with the way they stroke your body like frat boys finally getting their groove on after years of studying up on the sex. If you had the energy, you would be currently exploring the seams in their anatomy and dragging your fingers dangerously close to the openings in their frames, but there’s very little you can do when you’re busy getting plowed by two giant alien lifeforms. Knock Out, after having given you the most mind-blowing orgasm with his tongue alone, has fucked you so thoroughly you were practically on your own intergalactic voyage through space as Breakdown held you against his frame, having taken the brunt of his partner’s sexual frustration before they even dared to involve your squishy human insides. Dripping with two kinds of transfluids (the valve and the spike kind) you were gazing at them all blearily, looking unsexy as hell like you just got out of a car crash (minus the blood and with more alien cum). The warmth in their optics felt surreal and welcoming. You were small and fleshy against two titans who have witnessed more beauty than you ever will in your entire human life, but it was as though you were the center of their universe. If you hadn’t been crying from getting the best orgasms of your life, you would have teared up. Now, passed over to Knock Out – whose chassis you’ve grown accustomed to enough to relegate any sadness caused by watching his shiny plating be smudged by your natural oils to the back of your mind – you whimper and steer as his far too competent tongue drags across your neck, servos holding your ass still while Breakdown continues at a steady pace. “Holy shit-” you mumble, words cut short as the holder of the biggest dick you’ve ever had cups your cheek and kisses the side of your mouth. For all his eagerness, he’s softer than Knock Out, especially for a bot as big as him who looks like he crushes cars between his servos (which may actually be true considering the hammers he can summon to for melee). Another climax rolls through you, harder than the last one, inciting a pathetic high pitched anime girl mewl from your part. Breakdown grunts against your ear, metal whirring underneath his frame and against your back as your walls clamp down on him hard enough to drag out his long-overdue overload. His noises only serve to excite Knock Out who captures your lips with his and grinds his still-pressurized spike against the sensitive cluster of nerves between your legs. You come out of your trance having experienced your own death and resurrection, eyes misty and perpetually confused as you wake on the doctor’s slightly softer than steel berth with him hovering over you like a predator. It doesn’t take long for you to notice Breakdown’s fingers stroking your cheek, and once he knows he has your attention, he slips one of his massive digits between your thighs to begin rubbing against the long abused and overused sweet spot. Looking down at Knock Out’s gorgeous spike, you whisper a prayer to Primus Himself as you’re once again assailed by inhumane pleasure.

[deadlymistletoe]

Fears and Bandages

Pairing: Thranduil x F!reader

Request: @frustrated-kitten asked: I thought maybe I could request a Thranduil x FemReader where she returns with several injuries after fighting a bunch of spiders with Legolas and some other elves? Some small wounds, some more serious, but in the end she survives and everything goes well?

A/N: I hope it’s what you wanted - I was going to make it more angsty but this is what came out and it stuck.

Genre: slight hurt/comfort

Description: Thranduil’s composure cracks as he waits for you to come home from battling the spiders. He’s only able to put his fears to rest once he’s bandaged you up himself.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injuries. Stitches.

Word count: 1582

Thranduil’s foot tapped against the ground, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest of his throne. Besides the two guards posted at the entrance to the room, the rest of his subjects were steering clear of him.

He didn’t blame them for avoiding him while he was like this - after all, had it been someone else fidgeting he would have been annoyed himself.

It was rare for the composed elvenking to fidget as he was, to betray any hint of apprehension, but today was the exception.

It was well known that there were two people on this earth that Thranduil would do absolutely anything to keep safe, and it just so happened that both of them had gone headfirst into a dangerous situation.

The first, his only son, Legolas. Since the elf had first looked up at him from his mother’s with those wide blue eyes Thranduil had known that he would do anything for him.

After his wife had died that feeling had only strengthened, as the meaning in his life centered around the elfling who was quickly becoming one of the realm's best archers.

For a long time, nothing had changed, until he met the second person he would come to care about more than he would have thought possible. You.

Thranduil had never even considered that he might love again after his wife passed, but then you’d come into his life and he’d found himself falling faster than should have. And he just knew that he couldn’t lose you too. History couldn’t repeat itself. He wouldn’t let it.

Of course, that was easier said than done since you, much like Legolas, continuously risked your safety to fight the spiders that continued to invade the Greenwood.

Thankfully for him, you’d stepped back from the danger once the two of you fell in love and you took to the role of Thranduil’s consort - soon-to-be-queen, but the latest nest was bigger than usual and the spiders began to get more bold so you’d insisted on joining Legolas for the raid.

So now Thranduil sat, fidgeting like an impatient elfling, waiting for news. 

He felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time - helpless.

Yes, Legolas had promised to make sure you both came back in one piece, but Legolas was also known for saying he was ‘fine’ when he had a gaping wound - Valar forbid he find out what his son’s definition of ‘one piece’ was.

Thranduil let out a frustrated sigh. He knew better than to doubt the abilities of you and his son, but sometimes he just couldn’t help but worry. After all, the last time his son had left the palace with a mother-figure, only one of them had come back - granted, that was when Legolas was a child with none of the skills he had now. But still.

He immediately straightened up, movements freezing when Galion ran up the steps leading into the room. “They’re back, my lord.”

Thranduil wasted no time making his way down the steps, Galion rushing to keep up with him as they made their way to the front gates. “Is everyone okay?” Are they okay?

“Everyone’s alive.” Those words were less reassuring than they should be. The mirkwood elves had a habit of using the term ‘alive’ rather loosely.

When he reached the entrance, those gathered around instantly parted for him to make his way towards the glimpse of pale hair he’d noticed through the crowd.

None of the patrol had been completely spared, that was certain, as scratches adorned each of their complexions, the darker blood of the spiders splattered over their uniforms.

Healers had already dispersed amongst the warriors, vials of antidote in hand just in case, and he was relieved to see that Legolas had no obvious signs of injury as he drew closer.

Legolas saw him coming and turned to meet him, voice low as he spoke. “There were more than we expected. We weren’t prepared, a second lot ambushed us after the fight had already started.”

Thranduil placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze - a show of affection that still kept a semblance of formality. “You did well.”

He hesitated, not wanting to brush his son off but at the same time needing to see you. Legolas saved him from asking, nodding towards where a healer was bent over a figure on a bench. You, he realized.

“She’s okay.” Legolas murmured. “Just a bit more cut up than the rest of us.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ve been on guard to make sure she didn’t injure herself more running off to find you before the healers got to her.”

Thranduil’s lips twitched, holding back a smile as he made his way towards you, Legolas following behind.

It didn’t take long for you to look up at the familiar footsteps, a smile spreading across your lips despite the sting as the healer cleaned up a deep wound across your shoulder.

When the healer took her hands from you to rummage through her supplies you immediately took the chance to push yourself to your feet, moving around her and meeting Thranduil half way, his arms naturally finding their way around your waist as you stumbled slightly.

He smirked slightly looking over your shoulder. “I do believe Lothael is about to scold you for using her distraction to your advantage.”

Your healer, Lothael, had followed you, rolling her eyes. She gave Thranduil a wry look. “Yes, well, I can’t imagine that the king wants his queen-to-be to bleed out on the floor.”

Thranduil’s eyes quickly ran over your wounds, double-checking that you weren’t in imminent danger of bleeding out, and lingering on the deeper ones before looking back at Lothael. “I can take it from here, thank you.”

He knew that technically the healer had more better skills than him in the art, but at the same time, he also knew that the only way to completely reassure himself that you weren’t about to bleed out was if he did it himself - he needed to know that he’d checked and taken care of your wounds with his own hands.

It was only when the two of you had left the view of the other elves, leaving Legolas in charge, that you let yourself lean against the wall with a groan, the pain that had been throbbing in your leg since the adrenaline had worn off on the walk home forcing you to give it a break.

Thranduil, whose hand had been resting on your back, ready to steady you at any moment should you need it, gave you a worried look as you pulled away from him to use the wall as support.

“I’ll be fine,” You muttered, grimacing. “It’s just demanding a rest.”

Thranduil gave you a calculated look, and before you could say anything or even begin to wonder what he was thinking, he swept you off your feet, your arms automatically going around his neck as he carried you bridal-style down the hall.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, a smile crossing his own face at the sound. “What are you doing?”

He glanced down at you, a small smile dancing across his lips. “Why, I’m carrying to your chamber’s, my lady. Valar knows you’d collapse halfway there if I didn’t.”

You laughed before quieting down and leaning your head against his chest. “I’m tired, Thranduil.” You murmured, the toll today had taken on your body catching up to you.

He looked at you with a soft look reserved only for you. “I know, Meleth. You can rest soon.”

You sighed, staying silent as he reached your shared chambers and laid you on the bed, letting you sink into the silks and furs that covered the mattress.

You had started to drift off when you suddenly felt something cold seep into one of the deeper wounds, pressure keeping it there. You jerked away from the cold sting, but a hand held you in place, and you felt Thranduil’s silky hair brush against your skin as he lent over you to brush his lips against your forehead.

“I’m just cleaning them.” He murmured. “Relax.”

You let out a shuddering breath as he moved the cloth, a few tears slipping down the side of your face as he continued on to stitch the wound closed.

Your strong facade you’d kept up in the entrance and on the journey home hope had dissipated, as had your energy now that you were with the one you didn’t have to act strong for.

Thranduil whispered apologies and reassurances as he cleaned and bandaged the rest of your wounds with a gentleness that could only come from a lover’s hands, occasionally wiping the tears from your face and running his fingers through your hair at a particularly harsh sting.

It felt like hours later when the last wound was taken care of and you heard the quiet clink as Thranduil set the glass bottle of ointment aside.

He remained seated at your size, gentle fingers brushing over your face and hair as he gazed down at you, his own fears put aside now that he’d tended to you.

You held his gaze, relishing the cool touches until you felt your eyes begin to droop, and the last thing you were aware of was the feather-light lips that brushed against yours and the whispered, “Sleep, Meleth.” as you drifted off, Thranduil’s fingers soothingly carding through your hair.

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[leah-lover]

Built-up frustration. Mary earps × reader.

Smut 18+

Mary frustrated after a derby loss and she takes it out on reader.

Saying Mary is disappointed would be an understatement. After yet another Manchester derby loss, the whole team was disappointed. The team knew that Mary was always hard on herself and was gonna blame all the 3 goals that were scored on herself. So they weren't surprised when she directly went to the changing room after the final whistle blew. I on the other hand was more tired and numb than angry. Football had become a nightmare rather than a joy. Mark had been so very hard on us as of late. We were running ourselves through the ground trying to make up for losses, not disappointing our fans and ourselves. It was all too much, too much responsibility, too much to make up for, I just wanted to shut it all off. However, I had a team that counted on me. I was the captain, I had to be strong for all of them. 

After shaking hands with our rivals and doing media duties, I headed to the changing room, showered, and got dressed. Since Mary got there before me she changed, and was waiting for me to finish. 

We said our goodbyes to the girls and headed to our car.

We managed to stay silent throughout the whole car ride. Since our house was far away from the stadium, I put my head on Mary’s shoulder while she was driving. However, her hand didn't find its usual place on my thigh, it was placed on the center console. I didn't give it much attention deciding that she just needed her space for now.

When we arrived home, we went by our usual routine. Mary put our stuff away while I heated our dinner. Lost in my own mind, I didn't pay attention to the fact that Mary and I haven't spoken since before the game. I only realized that while eating my dinner that he had not touched any of .

“ Baby, talk to me.” I started while reaching out for her hand.

“There isn't much to say, “ she responded.

Her response shocked me. Yes, she was hard on herself but I have never seen her like this. 

“ Honey, please don't do this. I love you. You need to talk to me, you need to get these feelings out of your chest. You have been a prisoner to them for far too long.” I said, a small smile on my face. 

“ What do you want me to say? I am shit, a disappointment, I don't deserve you, I don't want to do this. Please just don't make me talk. Please.” She pleaded.

I then quickly got up, put her hand in mine and led her up to our bad room.

Once we got there, I let go of her hand and sat on our shared bed.

“ You always say that I am your good girl. Let me help you Mary.” I say as I undress myself starting from my shirt. 

“ I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best that I have ever seen. You need to get this out of your system so that you can love the game again.” I said as I sat completely naked.

With a helpless look on her face she said” I don't want to hurt you.” 

“ I am your good girl. I will take whatever you give me.” I responded.

And with that she launched me back on our bed. 

We quickly started kissing. The kiss was hungry, messy, and almost violent. We proceeded to make out for a while while her hand rubbed my side and traced all over my body.

“ Mary please, I need you so bad.” I pleaded.

She then ,while still making out with me, reached for the drore wear she kept her strap.

After undressing herself, she wore the harness. She unusually took the biggest strap she had which she rarely used. After the harness was secured she said with the raspiest voice. “ Now you are gonna be a good girl and show me how much you need me.” 

That was my que, I left the bed, got on my knees, and started to suck on her strap. It was too big for my mouth so I was stroking it slowly. Mary, not happy with my pace, grabbed the back of my head and started to thrust in my mouth roughly. Lost in her own thoughts, she continued to thrust even harder and deeper. I was about to tap out when she said “that’s a good girl, taking what I give her without any complaint, you deserve a reward my darling.” 

She then got out of my mouth, and helped me up the bed. 

Without warning she spread my legs and slid the tip of her strap in me. The feeling was supring and painful. However my arousal helped it fit right inside me.

Mary was on top of me thrusting harder and harder with each second. It's like she was fucking all her pain, shame and insecurity out of me. 

“ I need to come Mary please let me come.” I pleaded.

“ Hold on for me baby girl.” She replied while still thrusting harder.

After a little bit I couldn't hold on any more.

“ Baby please let me come please.” I pleaded with tears in my eyes.

“Okay, come for me darling.” She said,

I quickly held on to her shoulders as I came.

Mary’s consciousness seemingly came back to her, she got out of me, took off the harness, and held me.

" I am so sorry darling, I was hard on you. The strap was too big and I was too rough. I am so sorry.” She said as she held close to her chest.

“ It’s okay darling. I love you. Please never shut me off again.” I replied.

“ I am gonna go prepare a bath. I will be quick.” she said before leaving only to come back a few minutes later to carry me to the bath.

“ I will do anything for you baby.” I said as I nuzzled my head in her head.

“ That’s why you are my good girl. the girl that I love.” She replied.

[gratelove]

You Didn’t Tell Me

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: 18+, sexual intercourse, oral, sweet Peter, rough, fluff

You’re Peter’s best friend and he has seemed distant recently. You try to confront him about it and it turns into an argument. You go to his house to make up, and find him coming home as Spider-Man. This leads to reader and Peter getting steamy.

“Hey Pete, I was thinking we could hang out after school? You could come over and we can maybe have a movie night?” You ask your best friend, Peter Parker. You are both walking through the crowded halls on the way to your next class.

“I can’t tonight.” Is all he says. He won’t make eye contact with you and as you watch him, he licks his lips nervously, running a hand through his soft, brown hair. You’re walking so close to each other that your shoulders bump every once in a while. You can smell a faint scent of cologne. The cologne he always wears that you love so much.

“Why not?” You stare at him, stopping in your tracks. You can feel yourself starting to get frustrated, but you try to keep your cool. Peter has been dodging you for the last few weeks. You used to hang out every day after school. Whether it was studying, watching movies, or just talking for hours. He’s the only person that you could genuinely talk to forever about nothing in particular. All you know is that you miss your best friend.

“Because I’m… Im busy. I promised May we’d go out to eat.” You both move out of the center of the busy hallways and you lean against a locker, raising your eyebrow at his statement.

“Really?” You know that’s a lie and now your blood starts to boil.

“Yes, really.” Peter says, still continuing to avoid eye contact.

“May texted me this morning. She asked me if we were hanging out tonight. She said she’s worried because she hasn’t seen me over there in weeks. Why are you lying to me Peter?” Your fingers tighten around the school books in your hand.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry. I just can’t tonight.” Peter turns his back to you and continues down the hall.

“Why won’t you tell me? We tell each other everything!” You catch up to him, walking fast, trying to keep up with him.

“I really can’t do this, Y/N. Please just leave it alone.”

“No! If I did something wrong, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to be my friend, just say so! Don’t just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist!” Peter turns in front of you, stopping all movement.

“I just don’t have time for you!” Peter yells. A couple people walking by stare as they go. You are filled with embarrassment as you see others eyes on you. “Im sorry, Y/N. I just can’t do this right n-“

“It’s fine.” Tears pool in your eyes and you take a deep breath. You push past him, hitting him with your shoulder. You wipe the tear falling down your cheek and head to your next class.

——

You’ve had all day to think about the argument you had with Peter and decide that you should go talk to him. There is obviously something going on, and you’ve always told each other everything, so this must be serious. Instead of pushing him away, or getting mad at him, you should just be there for him as his friend. You decided that you are going to go straight to his house to talk to him and apologize for pressuring him to talk.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and May answers. She smiles and give you a big hug.

“Hey sweetheart! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” You smile and step inside, as May closes the front door.

“Hey May, is he here?” You ask, looking at the stairs that lead to Peter’s room.

“No, but you’re more than welcome to wait for him. Did you want anything to eat?”

“No, thank you. I’m just going to do some homework in his room.” You head up the wood stairs, a couple of them squeak as you go up. You get to his room to see clothes thrown on the floor and paper scattered on his desk. This is unusual for him. He usually keeps his room clean and tidy. You pull out your laptop and starting writing an essay for class. You do this for what feels like hours.

——

Several hours later, you have finished your paper, and are just scrolling through your phone. It’s dark outside and you look at the time. It’s almost 11:00 at night.

Suddenly, you hear the bedroom window being pulled open. Your heart starts to race and grab the first thing your hand touches, which is a clock, and you prepare to throw it at an intruder. You soon realize the mystery person crawling through the window is Peter… in a Spider-Man suit? Is he?

“Peter?” He quickly turns around as you drop the clock to the floor in shock. Your eyes widen. “Your-your Spider… You’re Spider-Man?” He pushes a small spider emblem on the center of his chest and the skin tight suit starts to fall from his chiseled shoulders.

“No no no. I’m not. No I’m not.” Peter says frantically. He’s left in just a pair of boxers as he stands there with a horrified look on his face. Sure that your expression matches, you sit on the edge of his bed.

“How is that possible? How are you… I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” You shake your head and Peter walks over to you, sitting next to you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted you to be safe. I was afraid if you knew, that you would be in danger. I was also told not to tell anyone. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He puts a hand on your thigh and you feel tingles shoot through your body.

“I was so scared that you didn’t want to be my friend.” You put your hand over his and he smiles.

“I honestly couldn’t live without you. I was only willing to if it meant you were going to be safe. I’d do anything to make sure that happens. I wanted to tell you more than anything, but I was scared.” Your stomach flutters at his words as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You lean into his hand and smile. You have always had a small crush on Peter. One that you would never tell him about because you wouldn’t want to lose him or ruin your friendship. Right now, those feelings are stronger than ever. “You know, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… oh god.” Peter pauses and takes a deep breath.

“Hey, you can tell me anything.”

“You say that, but you have no idea what I’m going to say. Y/N, I’ve loved you for the longest time.” You are taken back at Peter’s confession. You never once thought you’d hear those words. You never thought your feelings would ever be reciprocated.

“I- Peter-“

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Pete puts his head in hide hands. “Spider-Man gives me a stupid sense of confidence.” He shakes his head and you giggle. You pull at his wrists so that the beautiful brunette boy is forced to look at you. His face is bright red in embarrassment. You grab both sides of his cheeks and kiss him. You feel his hands wrap around your waist and slightly squeeze. You pull away and look into his sweet brown eyes. A large smiles spreads across his face. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for too many years.” You both giggle and you feel his warm breath across your cheeks.

“Then do it again.” He stares at you for a moment, and then your lips are connected again. You tug lightly at his curls as he deepens the kiss. His hands run down your neck until they find them hem of your shirt. He lips trail down your cheek, then your jaw line, until they find the crook of your neck. His fingers play with the fabric, and you lift your back up slightly, giving him the cue to pull your shirt off. Peter stares at your chest. Your breasts pool slightly over your pink, floral bra from holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Do you want to?” He asks, continuing to stare at you in awe. His voice is shaky as he asks. You can tell he is nervous. You know he is a virgin.

“Do you want to? This’ll be your first time. Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask and watch his expression. He face turns red with embarrassment and you giggle. “It’s okay if you’re nervous. I just want to make sure that this is what you want.”

“It is what I want. I want you so badly, Y/N. I’ve wanted you for years.” You grab the back of Peter’s neck and connect your lips together. He moans into the kiss. You stop kissing and shove your hand against his chest.

“Roll over.” You smile and he follows your instructions. You are now straddling him. You go for his neck and start sucking at the skin, hopefully leaving bruises. Peter moans underneath you and you can feel yourself start to get wet. You run your fingers over his abs and slowly make your way down his abdomen with your mouth. Your lips connecting with his warm skin until you reach the top of his thin, black boxers. He’s bulging out of the thin fabric, and you run your hand over his hard cock. Your fingers play with the hem as you kiss his penis through the cloth. “Pull your boxers down.” Peter does as you instruct, and soon he is laid before you, naked. His length rests against his stomach. You take him in your hand, wrapping your mouth around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip. You watch as Peter’s eye roll to the back of his head, and he throws his head back against the pillow, letting out a soft moan. He is large and you know you won’t be able to fit his whole cock in your mouth without choking. You let your saliva run down his member and use your hand to start jerking him off. While your hand is rubbing his length, you use your tongue to run circles around his tip.

“Oh fuck, Y/N.” Peter pants. His legs are tensing underneath you, and you feel precum leak onto your tongue. “Y/N, that feels amazing.” You pick up your pace, moving you hand faster, up and down his shaft. His moans start to get louder. “Oh, I’m going to cum.” Just as Peter says that you pull your mouth off of him, leaving him confused and so close to orgasm.

“Condom?” You ask and Peter frantically pulls open the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a small purple package and peels it open. You watch as he fumbles with the rubber in his fingers, eventually grabbing it from him. You line the opening up with his cock and slide it down, making sure to apply pressure. He gives you a small moan and a smile pulls at your lips. You unclamp your bra, exposing your breasts. You stand up and unbutton your jeans, pulling them down with your panties. Peter is staring at you. You climb on top of him, kissing him hard. “I’ve thought about you inside me so many times. I’ve fingered myself to the thought of you fucking me, Parker.” You grab both of his hands and put them on your breasts. You line him up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him. His large member stretches you. Your rest your forehead on Peter’s, and you both let out a moan.

“You feel so tight, Y/N.” Peter groans. His hands find your hips and he squeezes them tight as he lifts you up and down. Your hands grab the headboard and you pick up your pace. You bounce up and down on his hard cock, both of you moaning in sync. Peter takes one of your breasts in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. Biting it slightly, you thrown your head back, moaning loudly.

“Fuck Peter, you cock feels so good.” In two seconds you are flipped onto your back, Peter now on top of you.

“Can I go harder?” Peter asks and you nod your head. His hands grip at your hips even tighter than before. Peter’s pace picks up compared to when you were on top. His cocks is pounding into you, and you put your hand over your mouth, muffling the screams that try to erupt so May doesn’t hear.

“Fuck, Peter! Oh my god!” You scream through your hand. You see sweat drip down his chest and flow between the shape of his abs. Pieces of brown curls stick and bounce off his glistening forehead. His brown eyes watch as yours are thrown back with the feeling of him pounding you into the mattress. “Im gonna cum.” You grab the back of his neck, wrapping your legs around him, and yank at his hair.

“Me too baby.” He moans and just as you both release you hear a crack and you both drop. You yelp and look around to see one of the bed’s legs snapped. Peter and you lock eyes and then burst into laughter.

“I’ve never been fucked like that before.” Peter chuckles.

“I’m still figuring out how to control my new strength.”

“I think you have it pretty under control.” He raises an eyebrow and kisses you softly.

[jasmines-library]

Hello!

Truthfully, I know only surface level information about DC, but I've really enjoyed all your fics for the Batfam💕

Only take this request if it sparks something for you and you can write whatever form, being HCs, imagine, etc!

I'd like to request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque. I imagine reader was in the wrong place, wrong time situation w/ some criminals and got powers from an alien artifact. Their powers are sparkely and elegant but pretty flashy as well. Their tranaformation actually stuns people into watching and a lot of their moves only work if there is flair and finesse to them.

Reader is already struggling w/ if they want to be a new vigilante, but they’re mostly embarrassed by how showy and pretty their powers are in comparison to the dark and brooding Batfam. They feel out of place next to them and hate becoming the center of attention.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕 Love your writing!!

Acceptance

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Note: Not really sure what i think of this one but im trying to clear out my inbox so people can request again. Thanks for requesting anon!

Word Count: 600

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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The first thing you recalled was the pain. Fiery and burning, radioactive through your veins. The second was the light. So bright that it was practically burned into your retinas. And the third was the ringing sensation that was too stubborn to leave your ears. It made your head throb and your eyes water. The city is cold as you walk through the streets, wandering aimlessly with little to nowhere to go and with even less to do. 

Not too long ago, you found yourself in a bit of a situation. A ‘wrong place, wrong time’ kind of situation. The feeling of icy cold fingers wrapping around you will never leave your mind. The feeling of being tied down and exposed to…whatever it was they used to experiment with will always have a permanent place in your mind. And although the memories were there…..most of them were hazy. Glimpses. Fragments of memories. You thought that perhaps you were in and out of consciousness. Or that whatever strange artifact you were exposed to fucked with your mind. Nevertheless, you now have these….strange abilities. Beautiful, yet strange. Enthralling. 

“Still brooding?” A voice sounded behind you, light, full of amusement and belonging to none other than Dick Grayson clad from head-to-toe in his nightwing get up; black except for a splash of blue across his chest and over his shoulders. 

“It’s not brooding” you corected, hardly sparing him a glance before continuing down the street. You had encountered the vigilantes many times. Sometimes you found yourself on the same case as them. And each and every time they would come practically begging for you to join them. Tim, Dick’s little brother had pieced together your situation alarming quickly. He knew you had nowhere to go. So in came offer after offer for you to join them. You had repeatedly declined. Not that you didn’t like the vigilantes; in fact you found them rather amusing. It was the fact that you felt out of place with abilities like yours. It was easier to work alone.

“Oh yeah?” Dick caught up with you quickly, his larger strides matching your own with ease. “Then what would you call it?”

“None of your business, that’s what.” You replied, but there was a soft grin on your lips.

Nightwing just tilted his head with an unamused look. 

“What’s that look for?” You teased, continuing to walk.

“Come on. You know what i'm going to ask”

“No.” You answer immediately.

“But–”

“No.”

“Why not? You’re wasting your potential here.”

“Because.”

Dick let out a frustrated sigh, deadpanning at you as he brought the two of you to a stop. “You’re impossible.”

“No. it's embarrassing.”

Dick’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “Embarrassing?”

“My powers are…flashy. I don’t want to be the centre of attention. It’s embarrassing.”

He frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he turned to face you. “You’re embarrassed of them?”

“....i guess.”

“Sweetheart, look at me. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Seriously.”

“No?”

Dick looks at you as if you committed a crime. “Course not. What you’ve got is really special.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” He says. “I'm serious. Your powers could save lives, Kid. Consider it.”

“I……fine.”

“You’re serious?” His face lights up. “You’ll join us.”

“Yes. But don’t get used to it. I won’t always let you get your way.”

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BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury

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