#world wide intellect

[sculptorinthesky]

And I gaze at my hotel wall, oh the cot is so cold it don't feel like no bed at all.

[liliacamethyst]

Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 “Webs of Fate”

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

[the-muppet-joker]

You’re a little pisshead

YOU DON'T FUCKING OWN ME, BIG PHARMA! I PISS WHERE I PLEASE. YOUR HEAD, MY PANTS, THE WIDE OPEN SEA. THE WORLD IS MY OYSTER. IT IS NOT A SIGN OF WEAKNESS, IT IS A SIGN OF MY SUPERIOR INTELLECT

[chewingbatmanlikeasqueakytoy]

Danny should absolutely rip on the Flashes

Realistically, Danny meeting the flashes and having any of them deny the existence of magic/saying "magic is just science we don't understand yet" should be met with ENDLESS mockery. Like come on The flashfam WORKS with gods, magic users, some of the JL/JLD are literally demons and ghosts. Diana/WW was MADE FROM CLAY in some canons!

Scepticism on that level should ABSOLUTELY be met with "I didn't know the Justice League worked with flat earthers" Type scorn. The burns should be third degree. The fatalities wide spread. No one who lives in a world with that much evidence of magic should be allowed to carry "magic isn't real" as an opinion and not be derided for having their head in the sand. As I understand it the scepticism comes out of the flash comics from like, the 60-80's which fair but the other heroes stories had to accommodate for each other when the crossovers started happening so I feel it's only fair to have men of logic like the flashes (so many of them are scientists of some type right?) deduce that yeah magic has to be real ESPECIALLY - When any of the magic users, ANY OF THEM - Could respond with a very simple: "Magic is science you don't understand." "What?" "I understand exactly what I'm doing. I understand exactly what I need to do to get repeat results, and I understand what not to mix not to get undesirable results. What about that implies a lack of understanding? Magic isn't something WE don't understand, magic is something you don't understand."

I enjoy the idea of the flashes being sceptics, I actually enjoy it a lot. Sceptics are very necessary to any narrative, but honestly the magic users deserve a chance to call them out because really having someone call your life's work and very real craft 'not real' 'hoaxes' and essentially parade it around as something they could come to understand better than you if they just looked into it but have made no effort to would be enough to make anyone break their teeth from clenching their jaw so hard.

Essentially early days flashes as sceptics makes total sense. The flashes continuing to have "magic isn't real" as an opinion for too long into the story gives them Flat Earther Level Intellect.

[cosmicpuzzle]

Venus ♀️ in Signs

Venus in Aries

You are ardent and confident in your expression of love and creativity. In general, you prefer to initiate romantic encounters and can be quite competitive. Love at first sight is not unknown to you. While love matters are important to you, your personal freedom is more important. Independently-minded, you react emotionally if a lover or partner attempts to restrict you in any way. At times, you can be selfish in love.

Venus in Taurus

You have strong personal powers of attraction and desires. Emotional constancy, loyalty and stability are important to you in close relationships. However, difficulties in love can come about from possessiveness or jealousy. There can be a tendency to over-indulge in the good life and to risk weight gain. Artistic appreciation and talent are possible, especially in the tactile arts.

Venus in Gemini

You have a charming and playful nature with the ability to captivate others easily. You enjoy change and variety in your love life and social life. You are attracted to people who have stimulating minds and keen intellects. You, or a lover, can be flighty, superficial and flirtatious, which can lead to problems in relationships.

Venus in Cancer

You experience deep and sincere feelings of love and are caring and protective towards your loved ones. To feel emotionally secure, you need to have affection and tenderness demonstrated. You are sensitive in love but can easily be hurt by insensitivity from another. You have a desire for partnership and an appreciation of family-life. Social activities are often centred in the home and your guests always feel welcome.

Venus in Leo

You are the original romantic, with a desire for excitement and drama in your love-life. You are generous and warm-hearted. Status means a lot to you and you will be drawn to others who are well-known or popular. You like to be seen in all the right places and at the best parties. You appreciate good taste and style in others. Dress sense is important.

Venus in Virgo

You enter into relationships cautiously but once committed you are dedicated. You tend to be shy and reserved socially and find it difficult to make contacts easily. An overly critical attitude or taking the moral high ground can make for missed opportunities in love. You have a practical approach to love, which is fine but it can weaken spontaneity if taken too far.

Venus in Libra

To feel whole, you need to be part of a personal union. Harmony and equality are first and foremost in your intimate relationships. You have a love of beauty and intellectual stimulation and tend to look for these qualities in a partner or lover. You are an attractive and obliging person who has well-developed social skills. Problems can arise in your love life, if you scatter your affections or try to please everyone. You have artistic inclinations and a love of the arts.

Venus in Scorpio

You possess magnetic qualities and strong powers of attraction. You have an all or nothing attitude when it comes to love. Difficulties in love can arise through emotional manipulation, power struggles, secretiveness or jealousy.

Venus in Sagittarius

You have a friendly and positive attitude in love but don't like being tied down or restricted. You value freedom and the ability to come and go as you please. Honesty in love is important and you strive to be truthful and open. Sometimes you can be too frank or even insensitive to another's feelings. You desire association with others who share an enthusiasm for fun and outdoor activity, or an interest in philosophical subjects. It is likely that you will form attachments to people from other cultures and parts of the world.

Venus in Capricorn

You tend to be attracted to mature and experienced partners, or those of a wide-age difference to yourself. You have a responsible and pragmatic manner and tend to keep your feelings under control. In love, you seek partners who are loyal and dependable but also security conscious. There may be difficulties expressing affection due to inhibitions or shyness.

Venus in Aquarius

Friendships are the most important unions you make in life. You hold contemporary views on love-relationships and people are attracted to you because you keep yourself up to date. Conventional and routine relationships don't really interest you. Instead, you thrive on variety and intellectual stimulation in love.

Venus in Pisces

You are highly romantic with deep longings for love. You have the capacity to give whole-heartedly in love and to make great sacrifices. However, there is a risk of being taken advantage of by others, or of being susceptible to seducing influences. There is the potential for disappointment or deception in love. You have an appreciation of the arts and music.

For Relationship Readings DM

[strawbeerossi]

Stuffing Stockings

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.

Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5K

Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!

“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on. 

“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face. 

You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made. 

You wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list. 

“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!” 

Penelope and Luke. Classic. 

“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling. 

“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!” 

The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”

After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick. 

Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book. 

 It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly. 

“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part. 

“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you. 

“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look. 

“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family. 

“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.” 

Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely. 

“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good. 

“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back. 

“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around. 

You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car. 

After dinner and baths were in order, it  wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?” 

You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return. 

The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes. 

“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs. 

“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head. 

“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started. 

Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking. 

“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him. 

“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one. 

There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his. 

While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now. 

Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind. 

With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot. 

“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you. 

You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan. 

“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return. 

The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride. 

It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good. 

The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage. 

You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well. 

With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth. 

His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.” 

“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.

With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.” 

The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”

—--

It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.

You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.

The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.

Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.

Pregnant.

You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!

You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible. 

Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to. 

You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!

“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.

“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow. 

Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”

“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.

As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!” 

Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso. 

“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”

[katsu28]

Hi, I really like your writing! I had an idea for a fic with Lando. He left school really young (he got tutored privately afterwards according to wikipedia) and mayhaps that could make him feel insecure or something along those lines if he has a significant other that is in university, maybe studying to get a bachelors or masters degree. School is not everything and does not accurately measure intelligence or anything else but it is still a standard that most people hold and compare themselves too. It's something that I know all to well, which is where this idea came from. Whatever you do with it thank for reading it!💖

thank you for trusting me with your idea <3

lando norris x reader, r is in an unspecified master's program, 1.5k.

Lando loves how smart you are.

He tells you all the time. When you’re stressed from the intensity of your master’s program, nervous about an exam, or most of the time, just randomly. He’s proud of you for taking on something he definitely doesn’t have the brains for, and for absolutely crushing it so far. 

He left school before even completing his GCSEs in year 10, just so he could focus on racing full time—a decision he’d never regret, but always wondered about.

What would his life have looked like if he hadn’t devoted it to pursuing a career in racing? Would he have finished secondary school? Made it to university?

He doesn’t even know what he would’ve studied. 

Granted, he was never really good at school to begin with, but things could’ve changed. Now don’t get him wrong, he would never change a thing, but that didn’t mean he never thought about what might’ve been. 

So yes, Lando loves how smart you are, but if he’s being honest with himself, it does make him feel a little insecure about his own intellect.

-------

Lando finds you in your workspace when he gets home from padel with Max. 

He’d turned one of his guest rooms into a sort of office slash study space for you when you moved in with him all that time ago, a place where you could get your work done in a quiet environment whenever you needed to. The space itself was one of the smaller rooms, but still bigger than you were used to, and decorated to perfection too. 

A standing desk with an ergonomic chair (better for your neck and back, he’d said, so you weren’t hunched over your books all the time), a smart blackboard on one wall for any necessary brainstorming, a comfy chair in another corner—all overlooking the Monte Carlo cityscape from massive floor to ceiling windows. Everything else has been up to you, but Lando wanted nothing but the best for his smart girl. 

He pads in silently, making his way over to where you're furiously typing at your computer to press a kiss to your cheek. You flinch a little, startled out of your own world at the action. Your eyes fly to his, wide, before your posture relaxes again. 

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” You breathe, giving him a short kiss on the lips this time. 

“Didn’t mean to make you jump like that, darling. My bad,” He chuckles. He leans over your shoulder, squinting at the diagrams on your screen. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, it’s—” You pause, flicking through a few pages of the textbook next to your computer. Your lips twist to the side in thought, and then you smile at him in what he’s sure you meant to be an assuring way. “Nevermind, you probably wouldn’t get it.” 

He knows you don't mean it as a dig or anything, but the brush off ignites a bitter taste on his tongue. And if there’s one thing about Lando, it’s that he feels everything extremely strongly. “Well I’m sorry, not all of us can be geniuses.” 

“Pardon?” You look genuinely stunned at his outburst, at this huge 180 degree turn his mood has taken within the last few seconds.

Then he can't help the words tumbling out of his mouth next. “I get it, alright? ‘Lando doesn't know what I’m talking about, let’s make Lando feel dumb!” 

He storms off before you can process his stinging words, but even then, the anger that had just flared up in him has already dissipated. Lando knows all of it comes from a place of insecurity, that little nagging feeling at the back of his brain telling him that even though he’s happy where he is, happy doing what he does for a living, he could’ve made something different of himself. 

You leave him alone for a while before coming to find him, presumably to let him cool off. He feels awful about what he said now. Honestly, he hadn't even meant to say it out loud, doesn’t know why he said it. It’s not like he meant it. 

A knock from the doorway of the bedroom draws him out of his guilty thoughts, and he looks up to see you hovering just behind the threshold. He hates how you look hesitant to approach him. 

You press your lips into a thin line once his gaze meets yours. “Can we talk about what just happened?” 

“It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.” 

“It’s obvious you’ve been holding onto those thoughts for a while, so no, Lando, it’s not nothing.” 

“I don’t wanna fight,” He mumbles, eyes glued to his fiddling fingers. You seem to notice his sudden quietness because your expression softens as you cross the room to sit next to him. 

“We’re not fighting. You’ve got something on your mind, and I want to know so I can help,” You reply, shifting to face him. He can tell how you're trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “Please let me help.” 

Lando chews on his bottom lip, unsure. You say you want to help, but he's worried that if he tells you what's really going on, you’ll think it's silly. It is silly, really, him feeling insecure because of how smart you are. But if he doesn't tell you, you’ll think he doesn't trust you, and he does trust you. He trusts you with everything. 

Then you say his name again, softer this time, and you’re looking at him like you’ve done something horrible, and he sighs. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not smart enough to be your boyfriend. You get all excited about your research when you talk about it,” He sighs, shrugging clumsily, “and I want to understand it because I wanna be able to get excited about it with you, but I just don’t get it. And it makes me feel stupid.” 

“I didn’t—Lando, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to, I—” 

He shakes his head forcefully, grabbing both your hands in his. “No, that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel stupid. It’s my problem, really. I just…I’m not really known for my brains, yeah? Came to terms with that a while ago.” 

“You’re smart, Lan,” You insist, brows pinching in the middle. “You’re so smart, what’re you even talking about?” 

“We talking about the same person here? I never even finished school. Wasn’t too good at it before I left either.”

“There’s more than one way to be smart, y’know,” You continue. Lando tilts his head curiously, not unlike a puppy would. “You’ve got amazing people skills, you’re creative beyond anything I could’ve dreamed up, you’re well balanced with your emotions. Not to mention the amount of skill and strength it takes to do what you do everyday, at the level you perform at.” 

“No, but that’s different. I could never do what you do, remember all the stuff that you’ve had to.”

“And you think I could do what you do?” You ask, giving a disbelieving chuckle. “Genuinely, if I got put into the cockpit of your car, I wouldn’t even be able to start the bloody thing, let alone drive it the way you can when you’re being bombarded with information from all sides during a race. If you put me in front of a group of reporters, if I had to do even a fraction of the press appearances and sponsorship events you do, I’d probably shit my pants.”

Lando wrinkles his nose in slight disgust. “That’s nasty.” 

“It’s true though! I can’t do half the things you can, but that doesn’t make me any less smart. It just means we’re smart in different ways. So what you never finished school? School isn’t the only way to measure how intelligent you are. And Lando, you’re beyond intelligent.” 

His shoulders sag with the long sigh he releases, and he lists to the side, slumping over onto your lap. “Sorry for lashing out,” He murmurs, cheek pressed against your knee. He rolls over onto his back, gazing up at you with truly apologetic eyes. “I didn’t mean what I said, I was just being a dick.” 

You hum noncommittally, stroking a hand through his curls. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Lando, it’s alright.” 

“Yeah, but what I said was just mean, and I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking straight. You don’t deserve to be snapped at like that.” 

“Makes up for all the times I’ve snapped at you during exams, so…call it even?” You ask, leaning over him with a soft smile. 

“We’re even.” He lifts his head, craning to reach your lips, and you chuckle a little bit, but meet him halfway in a gentle kiss. 

It’s an I’m sorry kiss, a I forgive you kiss, a I’ll always support you kiss.

A no matter what you say, I’ll love you forever kiss.

This fact, Lando knows for sure, even though a little bit of him still thinks he’s not quite as smart as you.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[urdreamydoodles]

Batman Villains x Fem!Reader

You are a criminal hiding under the role of a psychiatrist in Arkham

You introduces yourself as a new psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, but beneath your professional facade, you're also a criminal with your own agenda. During your sessions with Gotham’s notorious villains, you forms twisted, romantic relationships with them.

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, The Riddler, Two-Face & The Penguin

Joker

- You introduced yourself as the new psychiatrist in Arkham, armed with degrees and a mask of professionalism, hiding your true nature beneath the surface. Your sessions with the Joker began with cautious probing, dancing around his mind like any other doctor would. But the moment his cold, dark eyes met yours, you both knew it was a game—one neither of you intended to lose.

- His smile, wide and unhinged, widened further each session as he slowly unraveled your façade. You found yourself intrigued by him in ways you weren’t supposed to be. The chaos he offered was intoxicating, his unpredictable mind a puzzle you craved to solve. And while you knew the risks, you couldn’t help but draw closer to his madness. In your second session, his laughter became personal, no longer mocking Arkham's walls but meant for you.

- Joker had a way of pulling you in, teasing out the criminal lurking beneath your skin. You weren’t just a doctor—you were a kindred spirit, someone who understood his twisted view of the world. He could see it in the glint of your eyes when you spoke to him about Gotham’s hypocrisy, about the system’s flaws. And one day, as you were closing your notebook, his voice cut through the air: "You’re not one of them, doc. You’re like me."

- Your heart raced, but you played it cool, chuckling softly as if you weren’t shaken to the core. From then on, your sessions turned into something more intimate. Conversations turned into whispered secrets, truths about your past crimes, the people you manipulated to rise in the criminal underworld. Joker reveled in it, seeing the darkness he knew you were hiding. He began to speak about you in ways that made your pulse quicken, about how you could rule Gotham together, throw the city into disarray with your combined intellect and chaos.

- The tipping point came when, during a particularly charged session, he reached across the table, his gloved fingers brushing yours. There was a promise in that touch, something raw and dangerous. The lines between doctor and patient blurred completely when he pressed his lips against yours, leaving a smear of red lipstick on your mouth. You didn’t pull away—you couldn’t. Instead, you let him pull you into his world of madness, where logic twisted into a wicked kind of love.

- After that day, it wasn’t just therapy anymore. You became his accomplice, helping him from the inside, pulling strings behind Arkham’s walls. And when he finally escaped, you were right there beside him, both of you laughing at the chaos you would unleash. You weren’t just the Joker’s psychiatrist—you were his queen of madness, his partner in crime, and Gotham was yours to play with.

Harley Quinn

- When you walked into Arkham as the new psychiatrist, you were immediately drawn to her. Harley Quinn, the infamous former doctor turned criminal, sat across from you, her playful smirk never faltering. But you knew better than to take her lightly. Behind her giggles and flirtations was a woman who had once been where you were, a professional undone by obsession. Little did Harley know, you had the same spark of madness within you, hidden under the guise of professionalism.

- Your sessions with Harley were like a dance, a back-and-forth of wit and insight. She would tease you about your job, mock the way you spoke in clinical terms, but you both knew she was testing you. You always answered with a smirk of your own, showing her that you weren’t as buttoned-up as you seemed. You weren’t just here to analyze her—you were here to connect, to peel back the layers of her mind because you saw yourself in her.

- One day, during a session, she leaned in close, her eyes flickering with interest. "You know, doc, you remind me of someone." Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial, and you knew she meant herself. You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. "I’ve heard that before." She narrowed her eyes, suddenly serious. "You ain’t like the others." And she was right. You weren’t.

- You started to let bits of your real self slip through, sharing small pieces of your criminal side with her. You knew she would understand, maybe even admire it. Harley watched you carefully as you spoke about the schemes you had been part of, the power you wielded under the radar. She loved it. And before long, your sessions were less about her and more about the connection between the two of you.

- The day she kissed you was a blur of impulsive passion. After a particularly heated exchange, Harley had grabbed your tie, yanking you toward her, your lips crashing together. There was no hesitation on your part, only a thrilling sense of liberation. You were no longer pretending to be the psychiatrist, and Harley wasn’t just your patient. You were equals, two criminals playing a dangerous game of love and power.

- From that moment on, you were inseparable. You used your position to smuggle things in for her, weapons and plans for her next big heist. Harley, in return, made you feel alive in a way no one else ever could. She saw your darkness and embraced it, encouraging you to step deeper into the life you had been hiding. You became her partner in crime, but unlike the Joker, you weren’t controlling her. You were both free in each other’s chaos, equals in madness.

- The day you helped her escape Arkham was the beginning of something wild. Together, you wreaked havoc on Gotham, her unpredictable energy and your calculated cunning making you an unstoppable duo. You were Harley’s new obsession, but it wasn’t one-sided. She was yours too. You weren’t just another doctor who fell for the wrong patient—you were a criminal mastermind who found the perfect match in Harley Quinn.

Poison Ivy

- You introduced yourself to Arkham as just another psychiatrist, another cog in the system. But from the moment you sat down across from her, the infamous Poison Ivy, you knew you were dealing with someone who could see through your façade. Her green eyes were sharp, watching you with a knowing look as you asked your initial questions. You were careful, though. You knew better than to underestimate a woman like her.

- Each session was a test, a game of wits between the two of you. Ivy wasn’t like the others—you couldn’t simply manipulate her or play into her weaknesses. She was strong, both mentally and physically, her connection to nature giving her a kind of power you admired. And she could sense something off about you, something that didn’t fit with the usual Arkham doctor. You were good at hiding it, but not good enough. "You’re not just a shrink, are you?" she asked one day, a sly smile playing at her lips.

- You leaned back, meeting her gaze evenly. "And you’re not just a criminal." It was an admission, a silent agreement that you were both more than you appeared. Ivy’s curiosity grew from that moment, and so did yours. She wasn’t just another patient to you—she was a woman who had taken control of her life, her body, and the world around her. You respected her, even admired her strength, something you had always craved for yourself.

- Slowly, your conversations turned into something more intimate. You shared pieces of your own life with her, your involvement in the criminal underworld, your ability to manipulate others without them ever realizing it. Ivy listened carefully, her expression neutral, but you could tell she was interested. She liked the idea of someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge the system from the inside, someone who understood the game she was playing.

- One day, she leaned in close, her fingers brushing against your wrist, sending a strange, almost electric pulse through your skin. "You’re beautiful," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. You felt your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t pull away. You were drawn to her, to the danger, to the idea of losing yourself in her world. It wasn’t long before your professional boundaries crumbled, and you found yourself kissing her, tasting the sweet poison of her lips. It was intoxicating, like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

- From that moment on, your relationship was no longer confined to Arkham. You helped her in secret, bringing her the resources she needed, aiding her in her environmental crusades. Ivy saw the criminal in you and nurtured it, just like one of her plants. She didn’t want to control you—she wanted to empower you, and you let her. Together, you became a force to be reckoned with, a dangerous duo that Gotham wouldn’t soon forget. Poison Ivy had claimed you, body and soul, and you loved every minute of it.

Bane

- Your arrival in Arkham as the new psychiatrist was unremarkable to most, but when you were assigned to Bane, things took a darker turn. His reputation was terrifying, the man who broke the Bat, a living embodiment of strength and intelligence. But you weren’t afraid. You were drawn to him, to the power he represented, both physical and mental. You had always craved control, and Bane was the perfect subject—someone you could manipulate, or so you thought.

- Your sessions with Bane began like any other, with you trying to delve into his psyche, trying to understand the mind behind the monster. But he was different from the others. Bane wasn’t just brute strength—he was calculating, strategic, and he quickly saw through your act. He didn’t say it right away, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting for you to slip up.

- It didn’t take long for him to speak up. "You’re not here to fix me," he said one day, his voice deep and commanding. You froze, knowing you couldn’t hide from him anymore. "No," you admitted, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I’m not." You weren’t just a psychiatrist—you were a criminal, someone who had risen through Gotham’s underworld, and you wanted to understand the man who had brought the city to its knees.

- Bane respected honesty, and from that moment, your dynamic shifted. He didn’t see you as a doctor anymore—he saw you as an equal, someone with the same hunger for power that he had. You were fascinated by his mind, by the way he strategized and planned every move. He was a genius, far beyond what most people gave him credit for, and you couldn’t help but admire him.

- The tension between you grew with each session. Bane was controlled, disciplined, but you could see the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. It was subtle, but it was there. You were drawn to his strength, to the raw power he exuded, and you knew he felt the same. One day, after a particularly intense session, you found yourself standing too close to him, the air thick with unspoken desire. His hand, large and calloused, reached out to gently touch your cheek, his eyes dark with intent.

- "You are more than they realize," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a heated, dangerous kiss. There was no softness in it—only raw passion and the unspoken understanding that you were both forces of nature, bound by a mutual respect and hunger for power.

- From that day on, you were no longer his psychiatrist. You were his partner, his equal in every sense of the word. Bane trusted you in ways he trusted no one else, and you used that trust to help him plot his next move against Gotham. You were the brains behind his brawn, working together to bring the city to its knees once again. You loved him, not just for his strength but for his mind, for the way he saw the world and molded it to his will. Together, you were unstoppable, a force that no one could stand against. And you reveled in the chaos you would unleash.

Scarecrow

- When you first introduced yourself as the new psychiatrist at Arkham, you were already aware of Jonathan Crane's reputation. The master of fear, the Scarecrow, was infamous for his obsession with the mind's darkest corners. But what intrigued you wasn’t just his fixation on fear—it was the brilliance behind it, the cold, calculating intellect that twisted psychology into something deadly. You weren’t there to cure him, though. Beneath your polished exterior, you had your own darkness, your own secrets, and a hunger to learn from someone like him.

- From the first session, there was a tension in the air. Crane wasn’t like the other patients who tried to charm or manipulate you—he studied you, analyzing every word, every gesture. His voice was calm, his demeanor almost detached, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind. He knew you weren’t like the other doctors. "You’re curious," he remarked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But not about my recovery."

- You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "No, Dr. Crane. I’m curious about your work." That was the moment he saw you for what you were—a kindred spirit, someone who wasn’t afraid of fear but fascinated by it. Your sessions became less about psychology and more about power. Crane saw potential in you, and you in him. You started talking about fear on a deeper level, about how it controlled people, how it could be harnessed and used.

- As the weeks passed, you found yourself drawn to his mind, the way he saw fear not as a weakness but as a tool. You began to share your own experiences, the times you had manipulated fear in others to get what you wanted. Crane listened, his interest piqued, and for the first time, he opened up about his own experiments, the thrill he felt when watching his victims crumble under his toxin’s effects.

- One evening, after a particularly intense session, you found yourselves standing close, too close for a professional boundary. His hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt through you. His eyes, dark and penetrating, locked onto yours. "You don’t fear me, do you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. You shook your head, smiling. "I admire you." That was all it took. In an instant, his lips were on yours, the kiss filled with an electric tension that had been building for weeks.

- From that moment on, your relationship was no longer patient and doctor. You became his confidante, his partner in exploring the darkest aspects of the human psyche. He showed you things no one else knew about—his latest fear toxin formulas, his plans for Arkham and Gotham. You helped him, using your position to cover his tracks, to gather resources, and to watch as he slowly gained more control over the asylum.

- But it wasn’t just about fear anymore. It was about power, control, and a twisted form of love that grew between the two of you. Jonathan Crane wasn’t just your patient—he was your equal, your partner in crime, and the two of you reveled in the chaos you could create together. The city would learn to fear you both, and you’d savor every moment of it.

The Riddler

- Arkham had seen many doctors come and go, but when you introduced yourself to Edward Nygma, better known as the Riddler, he immediately knew you were different. You weren’t just another psychiatrist trying to “fix” him. No, there was something in your eyes, something calculating. You enjoyed puzzles, mysteries, and games of wit—just like he did. You weren’t there to cure him. You were there to challenge him.

- Your first session was more of a mental sparring match than a therapy session. Nygma tested you with riddles, trying to throw you off balance, to make you stumble. But you never missed a beat. Every time he threw a challenge your way, you met it with ease, answering his riddles with a smirk. "Impressive," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But you’re hiding something, aren’t you, doctor?"

- You tilted your head, feigning innocence, but you both knew he was right. Edward Nygma thrived on solving puzzles, and you were a puzzle he wanted to crack. But what he didn’t realize was that you were just as much a player in this game as he was. As the sessions progressed, you began to drop hints, letting him see glimpses of the criminal mind beneath your professional exterior. It fascinated him, the idea that you weren’t just there to help, but that you had your own agenda.

- One day, during a particularly charged conversation about Gotham’s elite and their weaknesses, Nygma leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You’re like me, aren’t you? You see the world for what it is—a game. And we’re the ones smart enough to win." You didn’t deny it. Instead, you smiled, leaning closer. "Maybe I am."

- That was the turning point. From then on, your sessions were no longer about his rehabilitation—they were about planning. You shared your own insights into Gotham’s corruption, its flaws, its riddles. Nygma loved it. You became partners, planning your own schemes from inside Arkham’s walls. You used your position to feed him information, to help him plot his escape and his next big move.

- The chemistry between you grew with every session, the tension crackling between the two of you like static. It all came to a head one night when, after hours of trading riddles and plotting, Edward stood and crossed the room, pulling you close. "I always did enjoy a good mystery," he whispered before his lips met yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.

- After that, you were inseparable. You weren’t just partners in crime—you were lovers, bound by a shared intellect and a thirst for control. Nygma trusted you in a way he trusted no one else, and you used that trust to help him execute his plans, bending Gotham to your will. Together, you were unstoppable, a pair of masterminds who thrived on chaos and complexity. The city was your playground, and every riddle, every challenge, only brought you closer.

Two-Face

- When you walked into the room for your first session with Harvey Dent, you knew you weren’t meeting the famed district attorney Gotham once adored. No, you were staring at a man who had been broken by fate, his face a stark reminder of the chaos that ruled his life now. But you didn’t flinch. You introduced yourself calmly, sitting across from him like you would any other patient, knowing full well you had your own reasons for being here.

- Two-Face sized you up immediately, his scarred eye twitching slightly as he watched your every move. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious. You smirked, leaning back in your chair. "Maybe I’m just curious about how someone like you thinks," you replied coolly. He chuckled darkly, flipping his coin in the air. "No one’s ever *just curious* about me, doll."

- Your sessions were a constant tug-of-war. Harvey’s dual nature fascinated you—how he constantly struggled between his desire for justice and the dark side that had overtaken him. You, too, had a duality hidden beneath the surface. You played the part of the psychiatrist well, but beneath that, you were a criminal, drawn to chaos just like him. And as much as he tried to intimidate you, you didn’t back down, and he noticed.

- Harvey respected your strength. The more you pushed back, the more interested he became. He saw something in you, something different from the other doctors who had tried to “fix” him. One day, after a particularly heated session, he tossed the coin in the air, catching it in his palm before smirking. "You know, I’ve got a feeling you’re not so innocent yourself." You met his gaze evenly. "What if I’m not?" That was the moment you saw the shift in his eyes—the dual sides of Harvey Dent were no longer fighting each other, they were intrigued by you.

- It wasn’t long before your relationship took a darker, more intimate turn. One night, after hours of discussing Gotham’s corruption and his place in it, Harvey stood from his chair and crossed the room, pulling you close. The kiss was rough, almost desperate, as if he was trying to claim you as his, but you didn’t resist. You wanted it, wanted him. There was something thrilling about the danger, the unpredictability that came with Two-Face.

- From that moment on, you were his partner in more than just therapy. You helped him plan, working from within Arkham’s walls, aiding him in gathering resources for his next move against Gotham. You fed into both sides of him—the one that craved order and the one that loved chaos. Two-Face trusted you in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone since his fall, and together, you were unstoppable. His coin may have decided fate, but you held the real power in your hands, manipulating the outcome to suit your shared goals. You were drawn to the danger, and with Two-Face by your side, you reveled in the chaos.

The Penguin

- As you introduced yourself to Oswald Cobblepot in Arkham, you could feel his eyes assessing you from head to toe. The Penguin was a man who built his empire on manipulation, control, and knowing exactly who to trust—and who to use. But you weren’t just another psychiatrist walking into his cell. You had your own agenda, and the second you sat down, you knew Penguin would be a challenge worth taking on.

- Oswald wasn’t subtle. "So, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?" he sneered, the cane in his hand tapping the ground softly. You smiled, unphased by his attempt to unnerve you. "Just trying to understand what makes you tick, Mr. Cobblepot." He chuckled, clearly amused. "Is that so? Or are you here for something a little more… profitable?" He had you pegged, and you didn’t deny it. Penguin wasn’t someone who responded to weakness. He respected ambition, and you had plenty of it.

- The sessions became a delicate dance. You learned quickly that Penguin wasn’t just a gangster—he was a mastermind, always ten steps ahead of everyone else in the room. He loved the game, the power plays, the manipulation. And you knew how to play the game just as well. Every conversation with him was layered with unspoken meaning, your words carefully chosen to show you weren’t just another Arkham shrink. Oswald began to respect you, intrigued by your sharp mind and your ability to keep up with him.

- It wasn’t long before the lines blurred between professional and personal. Penguin’s calculating gaze would linger on you a little too long, his smirks becoming something more suggestive. "You’ve got a real talent for this," he’d say during one of your sessions, his voice low and dripping with amusement. "Maybe you should be working for me instead of this place." You didn’t disagree. In fact, the idea thrilled you. Gotham’s underworld was where you truly belonged, and Penguin saw it.

- One evening, after a particularly intense conversation about Gotham’s crime families, Oswald stood, walking around his desk with that unmistakable limp. He stood close, closer than ever before, his hand gently brushing your arm. "You and me, we could run this town," he whispered, his eyes dark with ambition and something more. You felt the electricity between you, the pull of power and attraction, and when he leaned in, you didn’t pull away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with the promise of what could come.

- After that, you were no longer just his psychiatrist. You became his confidante, his right hand, and eventually, his lover. Together, you plotted his rise back to the top, using your position in Arkham to gather information and pull strings. Penguin admired your cunning, your beauty, and your ambition. You weren’t just someone he used—you were someone he trusted, and in his world, that was more valuable than anything.

- You found yourself falling deeper into Gotham’s criminal underworld, by his side. Oswald respected your mind as much as your beauty, and you thrived in the power he gave you. The city became your playground, and together, you schemed to take it all. Penguin may have been a ruthless crime lord, but with you, he was something more—an equal. And together, no one could stand in your way.

[fratttymatty]

Influenced

(All characters are 18+)

Elliot Turner had always been the kind of guy who thought three steps ahead. He was clever, witty, the kind of kid who spent his time buried in books and online articles about philosophy, science, and the complexities of human nature. At 18, he was getting ready to graduate from his small town in England, a place where he knew everyone but had always felt like an outsider. Being gay wasn’t the issue; he’d come out years ago and had the support of his best friends. But it was the rest of his life that always felt a little... off. His intellect set him apart from others. It made him feel different—and sometimes, alone.

Lately, though, Elliot couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he was tired of being the smart, introspective guy. He envied those people—those influencers, effortlessly cool, living these perfect, carefree lives. He’d always thought they were shallow, superficial. But now? The idea of shedding his complex self and becoming someone who just fit in seemed more and more tempting.

Then, one day, he saw an ad pop up on his screen. “Want to become who you were always meant to be? Unlock your true potential with the Perfect Persona Transformation!” It promised something extraordinary: a complete transformation into the person of your dreams. The ad had a picture of a glowing, confident guy with perfect teeth and an even more perfect smile. It was tempting, irresistible in its simplicity.

Elliot wasn’t someone who typically fell for gimmicks, but lately, he felt desperate for change. He clicked the link without thinking.

The process was straightforward—too straightforward. Fill out a form with some vague questions about your goals, desires, and personality. He answered quickly, not really caring about the specifics. He was after a life that wasn’t so... complicated.

He clicked "Submit." Paid with his card. And within minutes, he received an email with a link to begin the transformation.

What did he have to lose? Maybe it was a self-help app, maybe some guided meditation, but he was curious now. So, he clicked.

The transformation came fast.

It started with a tingling, a pulse of static electricity that crawled beneath his skin. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, like his body was being rewired from the inside out. His fingers twitched, his chest constricted, and before he could process what was happening, the world around him went white.

When the whiteness cleared, he wasn’t Elliot Turner anymore.

The first thing he noticed was his body—taller, broader, with wide, muscular shoulders and smooth, golden skin. He was... beautiful. His reflection in the mirror was almost too perfect to believe. He ran his hand through his hair and immediately felt it part perfectly down the middle, a tousled, effortlessly styled middle part that framed his face like he was straight off a magazine cover. It was exactly the kind of hair that made people want to touch it.

He stared at himself. His face was chiseled now—strong jawline, sharp cheekbones, lips that looked like they were made for smirking. The kind of face that made people stop and stare.

“Okay,” he muttered, his voice sounding lower, more assured. It had a hint of an accent, Swedish, maybe? And when he looked down at his phone, it wasn’t his old phone. It was new, sleek, almost too shiny, and filled with notifications.

His name wasn’t Elliot anymore.

“Lukas... Vikström?” he said aloud, his lips forming the name like it was part of a new persona that fit him perfectly. Lukas Vikström. Lukas. It rolled off his tongue effortlessly, like it had always been him.

The memories hit him, flooding his mind like a storm. His old life, his real life, seemed so far away now. He was Lukas Vikström, a popular 18-year-old influencer from Stockholm. He was carefree, charming, the kind of guy who posted selfies in designer clothes, surrounded by beautiful people at parties, on yachts, in the best clubs.

He didn’t question it. He didn’t need to. His new life was easy. The weight of his old self, the thinking, the analyzing, the searching for meaning—it was all gone. All that mattered now was looking good, feeling good, and being admired.

The notifications on his phone were endless. Brand deals, new followers, dozens of new comments saying, "Lukas, you're perfect!" "Goals!" "I want to be you!"

He felt something warm spread through his chest. Pride? Maybe. But it felt more like... freedom.

The next morning at school, Lukas walked down the hall, effortlessly gliding through crowds of students. The whole school practically stopped to stare as he passed, everyone whispering about him, wanting to get close.

“Lukas, you’re the best! Let’s take a selfie!” someone shouted.

He grinned. His old self—Elliot—would have rolled his eyes, maybe even scoffed at the idea of taking selfies like it was beneath him. But Lukas? He didn’t even think twice. He struck a pose, effortlessly pulling a perfect, playful smile for the camera, like he'd done it a thousand times before.

He checked his Instagram as he walked, seeing his latest post racking up thousands of likes in a matter of minutes. He didn’t need to think about captions anymore—he just knew what people wanted to hear. A picture of him looking effortlessly perfect, his tousled hair falling just right, his grin radiating the kind of carefree energy people craved.

"Feeling amazing today, guys," he typed, his fingers moving quickly, instinctively. "Hope you’re all living your best life! Be happy, be hot, and don’t let anything hold you back! Love you all ❤️"

And that was it. Lukas Vikström didn’t care about deep thoughts or complicated ideas. He was who everyone wanted to be, and that was enough.

As he walked into his next class, Lukas was already thinking about what brand deal he’d sign next, what he’d post later, who would tag him in their story. It was a game now, and Lukas was playing it better than anyone.

Then came Sofia.

Sofia Johansson was the kind of girl everyone talked about. Her Instagram was practically a shrine to fashion, perfect selfies, and vacay pictures. Blonde, tan, and impossibly beautiful, she made her living out of posting sponsored content for beauty brands and posing at luxury events. But, like many influencers, she was... a bit ditzy.

Her captions were short, often full of emojis and half-thoughts. “Chillin’ at the beach with my fave bikini 💖🌴” or “Can’t believe how amazing this pizza is!!! 🍕😍 #sponsored.”

But despite her ditzy ways, Sofia had a magnetic charm. She didn’t need to be deep. People adored her for it.

The first time Lukas met Sofia, he was at a party—of course, it was a glamorous influencer event. There she was, draped in a designer dress that seemed to sparkle even more than her smile, her hair a perfect cascade of waves. When their eyes met, Lukas felt something stir inside him, something that wasn’t just admiration for her beauty.

She flashed him a playful grin, tilting her head like she was trying to figure him out. “You’re Lukas Vikström, right?” she asked, with a hint of excitement in her voice.

He nodded, offering his most charming smile. “Yeah. And you must be Sofia Johansson.”

“Oh my god, yes! I love your Instagram. You’re, like, totally goals 😍. We should totally collab sometime!” she said, practically bouncing with energy.

Sofia was everything Lukas now wanted—effortlessly glamorous, always in the spotlight, and completely free from any complicated thoughts. She was living in the moment, with no care for deeper meanings. And, to Lukas, that seemed perfect.

Within a week, they were an inseparable duo. Lukas would post pictures of them together, each shot more polished than the last—at parties, at luxury resorts, in the best clubs. Sofia was just as carefree as he was now, matching his vibe perfectly. They were a power couple—beautiful, sought after, adored by millions.

Her ditzy, bubbly personality fit perfectly into Lukas’s new world. They spent hours taking selfies together, posting stories, and planning brand deals. At first, Lukas had thought she might be a bit too... air-headed for him. But he quickly realized—she was perfect. She didn’t question anything. She didn’t think deeply about anything. She just enjoyed life.

And so did Lukas now.

By the time school ended for the day, Lukas was more than just the guy everyone talked about. He was the guy everyone wanted to be.

And as he and Sofia posed for yet another selfie, Lukas couldn’t help but smile.

This was it. This was his life now. The life he was always meant to have. Carefree. Perfect. Hot.

And he wasn’t about to change it for anything.

[scaranation]

HII I SAW UR REQUESTS WERE OPEN!!! your writing is so amazing i couldn’t resist sending one in after i had binged everything…

may i request headcanons for a totally whipped al-haitham with the childhood friends to lovers trope throughout the years? as in how he was to reader in elementary, middle school, etc. but if not that’s fine!!! your fic with him liking reader since middle school was so 😭😭😭❤️ reader teasing him was so funny and i can’t scream about it hard enough 🥹

i hope you have an amazing day!!! keep up the good work!

thank you smm that rlly means a lot! im so glad you enjoyed my writing ❤️❤️ i love the friends to lovers trope sm writing this involved a lot of giggling and kicking my feet, whipped Alhaitham is just so cute. Anyway I hope you like this I had so much fun with it too 😋😋

༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

Pairing: Alhaitham x F!reader

Content: fluff, modern AU, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, (very) whipped Alhaitham

ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

You’d first met Alhaitham when you were in elementary. He, being slightly younger, was in preschool. Unlike the other kids, he kept to himself, mainly studying a picture book in a secluded corner. Your play areas were separated by a low fence, one which you often loved to climb over.

“Haitham!” You almost fell onto the grass after scaling this fence once again in the break time, peeking over the smaller boy’s shoulder.

“Is that a kangaroo?” You pointed at the picture book enthusiastically. Alhaitham only looked up at you, blinking a few times with his wide green-orange eyes.

“No, it’s a pademelon.” He spoke surprisingly eloquently, tongue only slightly lisping over the syllables.

“You’re no fun.” You sighed, plopping down next to your self-proclaimed friend and beginning to draw flowers on paper with your new crayons. Upon seeing the curious look on Alhaitham’s face, you handed him the green crayon.

“You can draw flowers with me if you want.” You shifted closer. The boy said nothing, only holding the crayon tightly as he watched you happily scribbling.

Once you’d befriended Alhaitham, there was no turning back. He was shy and quiet, but utterly attached to you. You nodded excitedly whenever he babbled on about a new topic, although you never really understood what he was talking about, and played imaginary games with him in the playhouses. He never really understood the imaginative concept, but you would lead the way as he followed along with whatever you said.

“I am the princess, and I am going to become the queen! Bow before me!” You manoeuvred a figurine across the miniature castle.

“No, the crown prince’s wife will become queen when he ascends to the throne.”

“Oh, okay. You’re so cool, Haitham.”

Alhaitham only smiled at you. The truth was, he thought you were the coolest person in the world. He might know all the logistical facts, but he could never weave a story as you did.

“Huh? Haitham, you’re the knight. You need to go to battle!”

Alhaitham was shaken out of his daze when he realised he’d only been staring at you in awe, quickly grabbing the knight figure to move it. Beneath his long lashes, he’d constantly sneak glances at you - looking for your approval that he was doing the right thing.

Whenever you were absent, Alhaitham would ask everyone else where you’d gone. After verifying that - unfortunately - you really weren’t coming to school and shocking his peers with his sudden friendliness, he’d retreat to the outskirts of the play area. He would collect flowers and rocks, gathering them in his small arms - still a little chubby with baby fat - determined to find the best things to gift to you.

When you came back the next day, Alhaitham would shyly press the gifts he’d collected into your hands, eagerly watching your expression. If you smiled, he would too. Truly, although he was too young to know, you were his first love and the centre of his universe.

MIDDLE SCHOOL

During middle school, you and Alhaitham were in the same class. Due to his intellect, he’d been bumped up by a grade - much to his joy. The truth was, he’d been offered to move higher by two grades, but opted to only move one so he could be with you. Not that he’d ever admit that to you, of course.

Middle school Alhaitham would be better at hiding his feelings. He’d no longer be the the eager boy who openly chased your attention, although he still wanted it just as much. Rather, he’d deploy more subtle tactics, despite them rarely ever working.

It was undeniable that you were quite popular. Given your outgoing, virtuosic personality, you were constantly surrounded by friends. It hurt Alhaitham slightly, knowing that you were his favourite but he wasn’t yours. Despite this, he never changed his aloof demeanour - acting coldly to others, and less coldly to you. It was clear through his gestures that he had a soft spot for you, whether it consisted of paying for your lunch or bringing you snacks.

“Oh, we were supposed to bring a protractor to the test?” You hissed in the silence of the classroom, broken only by the whisper of pencils on paper. The teacher shot you a glare, motioning for you to be quiet.

“Here, I have a spare.” You felt a light tap on your shoulder, and spun around to see Alhaitham holding his hand out. His eyes hesitated before locking into contact with yours, the glasses making them look larger than they were.

“Thank you. You’re so cute, Haitham.” You whispered, shooting him a wry smile before resuming your position hunched over the test paper. You didn’t lie - he really did look adorable, those large eyes and small frame lending him to having a rather endearing disposition.

Alhaitham flushed red, his hands fumbling to close the zipper on his pencil case. He pushed his completed test paper to the side and placed his head on the desk, the hard surface cold on his burning skin. He mentally praised himself for always bringing a spare of every stationery item, just in case you needed it.

Whilst Alhaitham swatted away anyone else who dared ask him for academic help, he’d be almost eager to give you any form of assistance. If you were paying attention, you’d see the way his cheeks flushed when you leaned in to copy his homework, or the slight tremor in his voice when he explained a concept to you. Middle school Alhaitham - now hyper aware of his feelings for you - would be a stuttering mess at times, although that would soon change in his high school years.

“So, after completing the square… this equation can translate to- hey, why are you staring at me?” Alhaitham stopped upon noticing your gaze.

“Haitham, you can be so pretty if you tried a little more. I’m so jealous, you have such nice eyes.” You commented, running your fingers through his soft hair.

“… Why would I seek the superficial approval of others?” Alhaitham huffed, crossing his arms. Secretly however, your words spiralled in his head. Perhaps, if he did as you said, you’d like him too…?

He realised your hand was still on his head, and moved back. You whined in exasperation, flopping onto the desk.

“Your hair’s so soft though…” You mumbled, reaching out again.

“We’re here to study.” Alhaitham snapped, busying himself in flipping through the textbook to hide his red face. He found the content mundane, but teaching it to you made his heart flutter in knowing that he could be of use to you.

HIGH SCHOOL

Alhaitham in high school was drastically different from his middle school self, to say the least. He’d risen greatly in popularity for being the mysteriously smart and handsome student that barely paid anyone any mind. Much to your surprise, he’d grown even taller than you - making it a lot harder to ruffle his hair. It was rumoured that he’d brutally rejected confessions from many others, and had even made a teacher cry - but the shy boy you knew would never do that, right?

“Where are you headed?” You felt a large hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’m… going to study!” You stammered, finally looking behind you to meet a piercing amber gaze.

“Studying? On your way to the bus stop that leads only to the mall?” Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.

“Um, yes, a new cafe opened there and I wanted to study in it.”

“Hey, what’s taking you so long? We’re going to miss the movie at this rate!” You internally cursed as the loud voice of your friends interrupted your conversation.

“Studying, huh… Well, have fun. Don’t expect me to help you this time.” Alhaitham scoffed, releasing his grip on your shoulder.

He sent you his notes later that night regardless.

It was well known around your school that you were friends with Alhaitham, although you vehemently denied any romantic feelings between the two of you - much to his dismay. Because of this, you often had students approaching you and asking to be set up with Alhaitham. Of course, being the epitome of moral excellency, you only agreed if they paid you.

"You know, this girl in my class is pretty cute..." You showed Alhaitham a picture on your phone.

"You like her?" Alhaitham asked, not even sparing a glance to the picture.

"No, I..."

"How much did they pay you this time?"

"What! I would do no such thing-"

"You know, if you just asked me, I could give you way more than whatever they're giving you. Stop trying to auction me off, I have no interest in such things." Alhaitham snapped his book shut. You frowned, tugging on his arm.

"Please? Just one date with her, I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"Kiss me."

"Why?"

"Wouldn't it be awkward if I were on a date with this girl, and I didn't even know how to kiss her?"

"Oh, true." Alhaitham internally winced at how you didn't give it a second thought, only leaning in to seal your lips together. Although he'd mastered the art of maintaining a cool facade, if you'd opened your eyes in that moment, you'd see the flush in his face. He reminded himself to close his eyes, recalling the countless books he'd read about the topic. It definitely wasn't how he'd imagined his first kiss with you to be, but he'd take anything you gave him.

"Now, you're going on that date right? Here's her number." You winked, pulling away. Alhaitham furiously tugged his headphones onto his ears to hide how red they were, shooing you away.

"I'll text you her number then, Haitham!"

You ignored the confusing twist in your chest, attributing it to the kiss. After all, sharing a kiss with anyone would make you flustered - surely, it was nothing special.

Regardless of your efforts to make whatever dates you sent Alhaitham on successful, it never seemed to work. In truth, you had no idea how Alhaitham knew you'd been spying on those dates - after all, you were so inconspicuous, posing as a mere passerby. But he'd grown used to your exact demeanour, and no matter how hard you tried to be nondescript, his eyes were inevitably drawn to you. Unbeknownst to you, your eyes were drawn to him too - perhaps that was why you felt a slight twinge in your heart.

"Which popcorn do you like?" The girl next to Alhaitham giggled nervously.

"Salted caramel." Alhaitham responded cooly. Your jaw hung open from where you sat hidden behind a poster wall. Whenever you got salted caramel popcorn - your absolute favourite - he'd raise an eyebrow and inform you of your poor decision making, muttering something about the awful taste. You closed your mouth to smile to yourself. Perhaps he was trying to impress his date with his (superior) choice of popcorn. Your smile faltered when you realised how close they were standing to each other, before you mentally cursed yourself. What were you thinking? Surely you didn’t… have feelings for the very guy you were setting up with another girl…?

You followed the pair into the cinema, sitting a row behind them. They'd chosen a horror movie, which you absolutely hated, but you bore with it.

A few minutes into the film, you felt a tap on your knee. Alhaitham held out a fistful of popcorn to you from where he sat in front, his arm outstretched behind him. You scowled. He'd shown no prior indication that he'd noticed you - did he have eyes in the back of his head? You took the popcorn anyway, frowning at how Alhaitham played it off by lowering his arm around the girl's shoulders.

As the movie continued, Alhaitham wished it was you seated next to him. He hated the popcorn, but he'd gotten it just for you, anyway. His heart beat a little louder every time you reluctantly accepted his offering, although he had to glare at the girl who'd stolen your spot every few minutes to make sure she didn't think he was blushing for her. How troublesome this ordeal was. From an objective perspective however, this was fair exchange. If it made you happy, then he was happy too.

Alhaitham wasn't particularly athletically inclined, although his scholarship demanded participation in extracurricular sports. Hence, he found himself in the odorous male changing rooms for the second time that week. It would've been a mundane practice session (with him showing off a little if you happened to be watching), until he overheard a teammate's plans to ask you out.

"You should do it, I'm pretty sure she's single." Another teammate encouraged the first, the echo of a slap on the back reverberating through the room.

Alhaitham frowned. He'd planned to play the long game, although this was an unexpected interruption to his plans. Of course, there were other people to factor in. How could he have been so foolish as to exclude that from the equation?

"Yeah, I've had my eye on her for a while." The first guy spoke again.

"She's taken." Alhaitham blurted. Blurted, as in - his mind didn't fully weigh the decision before it left his mouth in a measured tone.

"Oh, sorry man. Are you two...?"

"Yes, we are." Alhaitham lied smoothly. He'd figure out how to deal with the repercussions later, but for now, he had to prevent anyone else from asking you out.

"That's great. Wish the best for you two." With a friendly (although slightly forceful) pat on the shoulder, the teammate left Alhaitham to head outside.

Alhaitham’s confession to you was ultimately very enigmatic and confusing, just as he was. Although he’d more or less practiced what he would say, when it came to you, he was always at a loss. You were a contradiction, a threat - both to his plans and his sanity. Somehow, that was what made him love you so much.

“I’ve heard a rumour that you and I were dating, Haitham. How come I never knew about this?” You tutted.

“Ah, they’re just saying mindless things. We’re just friends, after all.” That was what Alhaitham meant to say. Instead, what came out was;

“So what if we are?”

“We’re dating?” You cocked an eyebrow, failing to hide your flushed cheeks. Alhaitham noted this detail, trying his best to control the situation. What on earth had he just said?

“Yes, we are. Since we both like each other.” Alhaitham explained, internally cursing himself for his straightforward delivery. The situation was so outlandish - he’d just made an assertion, then supported it to somehow (very obviously) gaslight you into being his lover.

“You like me?” You spluttered. Alhaitham smiled. You hadn’t denied that you yourself liked him.

“Yes, because we’re dating.”

“No we’re not.”

“We are now.”

You stared at him in stunned silence, shocked by his audacity. But you couldn’t exactly deny his claims.

“Okay, I guess we are then.” Your mind still spun. Had he just… declared your relationship status?

“… Thank you.” Alhaitham murmured. You fidgeted on the spot uncertainly, before finally mustering the courage to peck his lips. Before you could scurry off however, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.

“What are you-”

“I’ve waited years for this. God, you’re so stupid for not realising this earlier.” Alhaitham brought your lips to his, fiercely bringing you in to a passionate kiss.

You closed your eyes, melting into his touch as his hands deftly pulled you flush against him by your waist. Unsure of where to put your hands, you placed them on his chest - feeling it heave with every breath he took. His heartbeat thudded under your touch.

It was strange. Most people thought of him as being cold, almost robotic. And yet, he was so human now, from the light sheen of sweat on the column of his neck, to the flex of his jaw as it worked against yours. The slight tremble of his hand as it rose to rest on your nape, almost as though he too couldn’t believe what was happening.

The two of you pulled away after a while, panting heavily.

“I’ve… got to go.” Alhaitham muttered, walking off hurriedly before he could embarrass himself further. Nevertheless, it was alright for him to be selfish for once, right? It had seemed to work out in his favour.

Despite however much he tried to soothe himself, Alhaitham’s face was red, and a giddiness bloomed in his heart. Any other student would’ve been shocked to see the tender smile spread across his face, breaking that infuriatingly stoic expression. His childhood friend - and his first love - was now finally his.

[nxtaliaistyping]

I also think that the Riddler would like a dumb reader that strokes his ego/praises him.

The Riddler + dumbification

Authors note: I love the way you think anon, I’ve been in such a riddler mood lately, I think it’s cause I’m replaying Arkham knight and I love hearing him degrade me

18+ nsfw, degradation, gn reader, facefucking

Sure, he loves to be intellectually challenged and stimulated. To be distracted from the endless dimwits of the Gotham City population, and perhaps on occasion you can provide that for him.

But he can't deny, dumbing you down does have its appeal. It strokes his ego to have a pretty thing like you looking up at him with nothing behind your eyes but sheer adoration. To know that he's the center of your whole world, your whole existence.

"I would explain what I was up to today, but i'd hate to fry that empty mind of yours." he explains, condescension dripping from his tone.

He has you on your knees, while he manspreads on the sofa so you can rest your cheek on his green pant leg. A gloved hand idly strokes your cheek, and he smirks at how you gaze up at him with wide eyes.

"You happy down there?" he asks, tapping your cheek when you just nod.

"Mhm, so good. Love being down here."

"And why is that darling?" he asks, adjusting himself as he prepares for your answer.

He hums as you praise him, and he basks in your pathetic whimpers of glorification. You tell him how handsome you think he is, but it isn't enough. Gripping your jaw tightly, he speaks.

"Yes yes, my aesthetic qualities are second to none. But do you really think that's all I want to hear?"

He can see the cogs attempting to turn in your brain, and he laughs coldly at you. But you quickly start to explain,

"You're the smartest man in Gotham."

At that utterance, his smirk widens. "Oh? Please, tell me more."

But you can't keep up with his request when he has his cock down your throat, moving you up and down by your hair. Your glassy eyes just make you more lovely to him, demonstrating just how much you're debasing yourself.

"That's it, not a thought in that head is there?" he groans out, the sloppy sounds of your saliva coating him being music to his ears. "Just concentrate on doing a good job, it's not like you have any other purpose."

You choke around him, not that it makes him slow down, before he cums down your throat with a loud moan, forcing you to swallow every bit of his load.

The look on your face when you pull off...if only Edward could take a picture, how submissive and empty headed you seem. Perhaps next time.

But he gets you on his lap, drawing an orgasm out of you from his skilled fingers before he gets hard again. This time, he bends you over and slides into you effortlessly, his cock filling you up completely.

“Fuck, go dumb for me.” He demands you, fucking you roughly as he uses you. Pulling your hair, he looks at you as your head tilts back. “Look at you, mind completely gone. But that’s okay, isn’t it doll? Yeah it is…I’ll do the thinking for us both, you just keep being dumb and pliable for me.”

There’s not much you can do apart from whine loudly, clenching around him as your eyes almost cross. He squishes your cheeks together as you do, and if you could see yourself your embarrassment would be overwhelming. But you can’t, you can’t see anything apart from him. Always him.

“Take it. Take what I give you.”

Clumsily pleasuring you at the same time, he draws another orgasm out of you, making you gasp and moan relentlessly as your body twitches. But Edward isn’t done yet, so he keeps pounding away into your tight hole, completely using you.

When he cums for a second time, he grunts and buries himself to the hilt inside you. He stays like that for a while, catching his breath and swimming in the sensation of your submission and debauchery. Pulling out, he presses two fingers inside of you to keep his seed from spilling out.

“Keep it inside. It’s a gift from a superior intellect, you’d do well to be grateful.”

At you dazed nod, he grins and pats your cheek with his other hand. Rendering you stupid was always his favourite.

[kalki-tarot]

Deities in Hinduism 🛕

Hinduism is the largest religion in the Indian subcontinent, and the third largest religion in the world. Hinduism has been called the "oldest religion" in the world, and many practitioners refer to Hinduism as "the eternal law" (Sanātana Dharma). The faith is described by some to be monotheistic, where all deities are believed to be forms of Brahman, the Ultimate Reality, as popularised by the Advaita philosophy.

"A Hindu can choose to be polytheistic, pantheistic, monotheistic, monistic, even agnostic, atheistic, or humanist."

1. Lord Vishnu

Vishnu is the god of Preservation, the great maintainer who often appears in various incarnations (avatara) to provide salvation for humanity. Some of his best-known avatars, who are tremendously popular and beloved throughout Hindu India, are the gods Krishna and Rama.

2. Lord Shiva

Shiva holds one of the most prominent roles in Hinduism as the god of destruction. He is one of the three most important gods, alongside Brahma (the creator) and Vishnu (the preserver). The sect of Shaivism holds that Shiva is the Supreme Being which all other gods are aspects of.

3. Maa Kali

Kali is the Hindu goddess of death and rebirth, she expresses the dual nature of the destruction that must come before new beginnings, and of the strength of the female power which can sometimes do what the man cannot. She is also the goddess of time.

4. Maa Durga

Durga, goddess of Shakti - the divine positive feminine energy and focus of festival celebrations. This very elegant bronze figure of Devi (goddess) Durga - is an attractive and prominent figure and a principal deity in Hinduism.

5. Lord Ganesha

He is widely revered, more specifically, as the remover of obstacles and bringer of good luck; the patron of arts and sciences; and the deva of intellect and wisdom. As the god of beginnings, he is honoured at the start of rites and ceremonies

6. Maa Saraswati

Saraswati is the Hindu goddess of knowledge. She is associated with wisdom, music, art, and learning. She is one of the three main goddesses of Hinduism, along with Lakshmi and Parvati. Together the three goddesses are called the Tridevi.

7. Maa Lakshmi

Lakshmi is the Hindu goddess of wealth, good fortune, happiness, youth, and beauty. She is the wife of Vishnu, the god that sustains the universe; he makes sure the universe stays together while Shiva, the destroyer, rips it apart.

[ausetkmt]

Pharmacist Lunsford Richardson made Vicks a household name throughout the nation, but his popular product did not do the same for him.

Even in his native North Carolina, where his most celebrated of chemical concoctions has been right under our stuffy noses and on our congested chests for generations, the mention of Richardson’s name elicits blank stares from all but those who study and cherish history.

Richardson’s salve, Vicks VapoRub, helped the world breathe easier during the devastating influenza pandemic of 1918 and during the countless colds and flus of our childhoods, yet most of us couldn’t pick Lunsford Richardson out of a one-man police lineup, much less a who’s who of medical pioneers.

Why didn’t Richardson — by all accounts a creative inventor and smart businessman — ever become as famous as those vapors packed into the familiar squat blue jar?

Because his name wouldn’t fit on the jar.

That’s one version of the story. According to company and family lore, Richardson initially dubbed his promising new product Richardson’s Croup and Pneumonia Cure Salve. Realizing that this name didn’t exactly roll off the tongue nor fit when printed on a small medicine jar, Richardson changed the name to honor his brother-in-law, Dr. Joshua Vick. Another account suggests the inventive druggist plucked the name from a seed catalog he’d been perusing that listed the Vick Seed Co.

The truth may never be known. What is known, though, is that Lunsford Richardson created a medicinal marvel for the ages, the likes of which may never be equaled.

Croupy beginnings

A Johnston County native born in 1854, Richardson loved chemistry and hoped to study it at Davidson College. The college’s chemistry program at the time wasn’t as strong as he’d hoped it would be, so he studied Latin instead, graduating with honors in three years. He returned to Johnston County and taught school, but it wasn’t long before the young man’s love of chemistry got the best of him. In 1880, he moved to Selma to work with his physician brother-in-law, Dr. Vick. It was not uncommon in those days for doctors to dispense drugs themselves, but Vick was so busy seeing patients that he teamed up with Richardson, allowing him to handle the pharmacy duties for him. Richardson relied on his knowledge of Latin to help him learn the chemical compounds required to become a pharmacist, and that’s when he began to experiment with recipes for the product that would become Vicks VapoRub.

It wasn’t until Richardson moved to his wife’s hometown of Greensboro in 1890 that his magical salve and other products he created began to take off.

“He was a man of great intellect and talent,” says Linda Evans, community historian for the Greensboro Historical Museum, which has an exhibit devoted to Richardson and Vicks.

“Druggists at the time fashioned their own remedies a lot, and he created a number of remedies, in addition to his magic salve, that he sold under the name of Vick’s Family Remedies. He was obviously a man of such creativity.”

In Greensboro, working out of a downtown drugstore he purchased (where he once employed a teenaged William Sydney Porter, the future short story writer O. Henry), Richardson patented some 21 medicines. The wide variety of pills, liquids, ointments, and assorted other medicinal concoctions included the likes of Vick’s Chill Tonic, Vick’s Turtle Oil Liniment, Vick’s Little Liver Pills and Little Laxative Pills, Vick’s Tar Heel Sarsaparilla, Vick’s Yellow Pine Tar Cough Syrup, and Vick’s Grippe Knockers (aimed at knocking out la grippe, an old-timey phrase for the flu).

These products sold with varying degrees of success, but the best seller in the lineup of Richardson’s remedies was Vick’s Magic Croup Salve, which he introduced in 1894. And by all accounts, necessity was the key to its success.

“He had what they referred to as a croupy baby — a baby with a lot of coughing and congestion,” explains Richardson’s great-grandson, Britt Preyer of Greensboro. “So as a pharmacist, he began experimenting with menthols from Japan and some other ingredients, and he came up with this salve that really worked. That’s how it all started.”

Another version of the story suggests that all three of the Richardson children caught bad colds at the same time, and Richardson, dissatisfied with the traditional treatment of the day, which included poultices and a vapor lamp, spent hours at his pharmacy developing his own treatment.

Richardson’s salve — a strong-smelling ointment combining menthol, camphor, oil of eucalyptus, and several other oils, blended in a base of petroleum jelly — was a chest-soothing, cough-suppressing, head-clearing sensation. When the salve was rubbed on the patient’s chest, his or her body heat vaporized the menthol, releasing a wave of soothing, medicated vapors that the patient breathed directly into the lungs.

Vicks in the mailbox

In 1911, Richardson’s son Smith, by now a successful salesman for his father’s company, recommended discontinuing all of the company’s products except for Vick’s Magic Croup Salve. He believed the salve could sell even better if the company stopped investing time and money in the other, less successful remedies. He also suggested renaming the salve Vicks VapoRub, according to the company’s history timeline, to “help dramatize the product’s performance.” Richardson agreed, and a century later, the name’s still the same.

Meanwhile, Richardson intensified his marketing efforts by providing free goods to druggists who placed large orders and publishing coupons for free samples in newspapers. He also advertised on billboards and sent promotional mailings to post office boxes, addressed to Boxholder rather than the individual’s name, thus earning him the distinction of being the father of junk mail.

In 1925, Vicks even published a children’s book to help promote the product. The book told the story of two elves, Blix and Blee, who rescued a frazzled mother whose sick child refused to take nasty-tasting medicines. Their solution, of course, was the salve known as Vicks VapoRub.

Expanding and experimenting

As successful as the marketing campaign was, nothing sold Vicks VapoRub like the deadly Spanish flu outbreak that ravaged the nation in 1918 and 1919, killing hundreds of thousands of Americans. Loyal Vicks customers and new customers stocked up on the medicine to stave off or fight the disease.

According to the company’s history timeline, VapoRub sales skyrocketed from $900,000 to $2.9 million in a single year because of the pandemic. The Vicks plant in Greensboro operated around the clock, and salesmen were pulled off the road to help at the manufacturing facility in an effort to keep up with demand.

As the flu spread across the nation, Richardson grew ill with pneumonia in 1919 and died. Smith took over the company. Vicks continued to grow, buying other companies until Procter & Gamble bought it in the 1980s. Through the years, Vicks continued adding new products to its arsenal of cold remedies: cough drops, nose drops, inhalers, cough syrup, nasal spray, Formula 44, NyQuil. And whatever success those products attained, they got there standing on the broad shoulders of Richardson.

Richardson will never be a household name, but his salve has held that status for more than a century — and may do so for the next hundred years. And for Richardson, were he still around, that ought to be enough to clear his head.

A cure-all salve

Vicks users have claimed the salve can cure and heal many maladies. Even though Vicks doesn’t say the salve works for these problems, people still believe.

Toenail fungus: Rub the salve on your toenails, cover with socks, and sleep your fungus problems away. Cough: For a similar fix to a nagging cough, some believe rubbing Vicks on the soles of your feet can fix the problem. Dandruff: Rub Vicks directly on the scalp, and your flakes may just disappear. Chapped lips: Petroleum jelly is one of the ingredients in Vicks, and some say the ointment can help heal cracked lips. Mosquito bites: If you smooth Vicks on the red bumps on your legs and arms, it can supposedly take the itch right out. Warts: Dab Vicks on the wart, cover with duct tape, and it may fall off in a few days.

Greensboro Historical Museum 130 Summit Avenue Greensboro, N.C. 27401 (336) 373-2043 greensborohistory.org

See historical Vicks VapoRub bottles and learn about Lunsford Richardson.

[coven-of-genesis]

Different magical element meanings

Magical elements are a common concept in various cultures and fantasy settings. They typically represent fundamental forces or energies that can be harnessed for mystical purposes.

Here are some of the commonly recognized magical elements:

1. Earth: Often associated with stability, grounding, and the physical world. It encompasses concepts like stone, soil, plants, and minerals.

2. Air: Representing intellect, communication, and freedom. Air magic pertains to the element of wind, breeze, and the unseen forces around us.

3. Fire: Symbolising transformation, passion, and energy. Fire magic is connected to flames, heat, and the spark of life.

4. Water: Signifying emotions, intuition, and adaptability. Water magic relates to rivers, oceans, rain, and the flow of energies.

5. Spirit (or Aether): Sometimes considered a fifth element, representing the divine or spiritual essence that connects all things. It's the bridge between the material and the ethereal.

6. Light: Often associated with purity, illumination, and enlightenment. Light magic embodies concepts of clarity, truth, and goodness.

7. Darkness (or Shadow): Representing mystery, the subconscious, and the unknown. Dark magic encompasses hidden knowledge, mystery, and the depths of the human psyche.

8. Metal: Less common but occasionally included, metal magic focuses on concepts like strength, structure, and transformation.

9. Ice: In some traditions, ice is treated as a distinct element. It embodies cold, stillness, and the power of preservation.

10. Electricity (or Lightning): This represents energy and power, often associated with speed and sudden change.

Remember, the interpretation and inclusion of these elements can vary widely depending on the culture, belief system, or fictional universe in question. Some systems may include additional elements or have unique perspectives on the traditional ones.

[siriuslystyle1989]

Hard Liquor Mixed With A Bit Of Intellect (Part 5)

Modern!Azriel x reader

Warnings : Elain Bashing, non-consensual kissing, Mentions of bedrotting and depression.

Series masterlist main masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shit.

Azriel slammed his phone down on the dresser. Why would they tell her?

Rubbing his eyes he felt his breathing begin to hitch up. Stalking to the bathroom, he splashed water on his face attempting to calm himself down.

He couldn't lose Y/n. Not over something like this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/n hadn't left her bed in days. Her clothes were beginning to become stained with food and her room became cluttered and untidy.

She hadn't been to college in about a week and slowly felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into perpetual sadness.

As days rolled into nights, Y/n felt like the world was caving in on her, suffocating her, weighing her down to a point of no return.

She hadn't cried since the day Mor came over. She didn't think she could cry even if she tried. Y/n felt nothing, she was completely numb.

Clasping at her phone, she tapped on the screen to see numerous messages from Mor and Nesta asking if she was alright and if she needed anything.

Of course she wasn't alright, but she would never tell them that.

'Y/n - Yeah I'm doing fine I promise thank you for checking! <3'

Y/n almost laughed at the lie as she took in her surroundings. She knew this needed to stop. But she couldn't bring herself to get better.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trailing up to Rhys' house, Azriel let out a stressed sigh as a hand ran through his hair.

Lifting his arm to knock on the bronzed door, it swung open to reveal his 'brother'.

"So are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on or?" Rhysand looked at Azriel with slight distain in his eyes as Feyre sent Azriel a tense smile as she carried baby Nyx into the living room.

They moved into the house, ending up in the living room where Rhys signalled for the other male to sit down and start talking.

Azriel ran an anxious hand through his hair as he began to instinctively bounce his leg up and down.

"I know what this looks like..." He began as Rhys let out a huff of disapproval.

"I mean it looks like you cheated on your long term girlfriend." Feyre stated bluntly, cradling Nyx in her arms.

"Please, just- just let me explain." Azriel looked at the pair, begging for their forgiveness.

"Go ahead." Rhys spoke, swinging his right foot up to his left knee, leaning back and moving his arm around the back of Feyre.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A WEEK EARLIER

The music was blaring loud and Azriel, in his drunken state, needed to get out.

The party had droned on for too long and as Rhys and Feyre began to slowly coax people to leave their home, Azriel decided he'd had enough.

He knew he'd drank far too much and potentially smoked something that he probably shouldn't have, so much so he felt his vision begin to slow and blur. The flashing lights almost sending him into a hypnotic state.

As he began to try and find Rhys and Feyre to say goodbye he was greeted by a sultry voice.

"Hello Azriel." it hummed as he turned around to reveal Feyre's sister, Elain.

"Hi Elain." Azriel slurred clearly uninterested in whatever the female had to say, too focused on getting away from the party and home.

"I've been waiting to find you alone." She spoke, lips caressing his ear.

"Elain what do you wan-" Azriel was cut off by an abrupt kiss as Elain pushed his weakened body to a wall. Assaulting his lips with hers before he could even register what happened.

"Elain- please- stop" He tried to get a word in as she pinned him back, utilising his sluggish state to her advantage.

"What the fuck?" Mor's voice rang in his ears, his eyes opened wide as they met the blurred vision of Feyre and Mor.

Elain began to giggle slightly.

"Oops! looks like we've been... interrupted." She spoke, stroking Azriel's cheek with her hand.

"Mor- wait!" He yelled as the two women began to walk away, their faces laced with disbelief.

What had he just done.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"She- she forced herself on you?" Feyre spoke, eyes wide with shock.

"I guess you could call it that, yeah." Azriel replied rubbing the back of his neck.

"Az I'm so sorry she did-" the man cut Feyre off.

"Stop. I don't need your sympathy, I need Y/n back." He spoke, determination lacing his tone.

"Azriel." Rhys stated, empathy gracing his features, locking eyes with his 'brother' "I promise we will sort this out."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: BACK WITH PART 5 BABYYYYYY

If you are ever going through a tough time feel free to send me a message i'm always here to listen <3

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @mellowmusings @atomictyphoonkitten @cazrielsfairygf @sidthedollface2 @clementine111002

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 - Magnets | Chapter 3

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), and more to be added as story progresses

Word Count: 6.4k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

Sukuna’s POV

Screams ring out in his ears as he plows into the concubine beneath him. Tears fill her eyes and blood trickles from various bite marks he has left across her body. Her hands helplessly pull against her restraints as her thighs beg to close and bar him from the assault he’s laying on her insides. Both of his cocks stretch her to lengths she doesn’t have as she writhes in pain, his pace so brutal he thinks he hears her pelvis crack. She tries to form pleas for him to stop but her tongue doesn’t let them pass, as she knew he might just kill her on the spot. So she just spasms there screaming and accepts the assault.

He couldn’t care less about her pain, he almost wanted to completely destroy her, slam into her until she splits into two and finally shuts the hell up. But that would affect his relationship with her father. He controls a substantial farming operation that keeps the land from starving. In his youth, he would have just slaughtered the world and been done with it, but what’s the point in being King if there is nothing? He had found that some people had an ounce of worth for their intellect. They may not be worth a damn as fighters, but they created things he had come to enjoy. Like this delectable slut crying beneath him. Her curves were full, her skin soft and supple, her eyes always so full of fear driven obedience. A perfect fuck toy in his array of options.

He slams into her rougher causing her eyes to go wide as he penetrates her cervix. She is so perfect yet so fucking disgusting. She no longer felt right, her obedience no longer made his cock twitch, her perfect skin no longer held the attraction it once did. She was weak, pathetic, and not you. You. A cocky bitch just begging to be knocked down a peg. Begging to be forced down with his weight and torn apart from the inside. Would you scream for him? No, you wouldn’t be that boring. You would be calling him dirty names no one else would dare to. You would hurt him every time he hurt you and fight him every step of the way for dominance. You wanted to fuck him? What a joke. You didn’t know what you were asking for, and if he decided to, it wouldn’t be your choice to begin with.

His cock finally starts twitching inside the useless sow beneath him as he pictures fucking her. He hated that it was so difficult to touch you, he wanted to feel you more. He wanted to bury his face in your neck and get lost in your smell. He wanted to cover you in his smell so he could inhale the birth of your combined scents. He wanted to bite you until your skin broke and leave you covered in bruises from his mouth’s assault. You would look so fucking pretty marked as his. Even better if his claim to you reached even your insides. He would cum in you over and over again and keep you too full of his cocks for any of it to escape. He wanted to marinate your insides with his seed until they would only wet for him. He wanted you in his bed covered in blood, sweat, cum, and tears as you took him better than any other bitch could and begged for more instead of pushing him away. Fuck yes, focus on that picture, yes, yes, yessss.

With a few more pumps he was filling his concubine’s holes with his seed until it came bursting out past his cocks. He panted a few times before looking down. He felt a wave of anger wash over him at what he just thought of. That girl is a peasant, a run through whore with no respect. He didn’t want to fuck you, he wanted to put a spike through your eye socket and let your nude corpse hang from his throne. It took everything he had to not take his anger out on the passed out girl beneath him. It wouldn’t bring him real pleasure anyway and would cause more trouble than it was worth. He pulled his cocks out and used her sheets to wipe them clean before grabbing his robe. He had more hearings to attend for the day and a good idea of how he was going to let off steam. For the villagers’ sake, there better not be many.

(Y/N) POV

Your new servants had come not long after Geto left. They took your measurements and went over design specifications with you before taking down your preferred booze. You had spent the rest of the day in your room, taking a mental inventory of everything you now had. Your room was ridiculously huge. You genuinely weren’t sure what to do with everything in it. You had a large mat for sitting and a table in the middle of it that you had decided to move to the side of it. You doubted there were enough people here to need the other side available for seating, and the newfound space gave you room to workout on. You knew there was a shared training space, but you figured you could occasionally do it here if there was someone already there. You figured you had pissed the King off earlier and wanted to avoid him when you could, because you knew your smartass mouth would end up losing you visitation days. You don’t think Uraume liked you either. Geto might be fun to spar with, so you probably wouldn’t run if he was there.

You looked around at your empty shelves. You asked the servants what people usually filled them with, and while they weren’t sure what the other sorcerers put in them, they guessed relics, personal items, or books. You weren’t one for keeping stuff as you considered most of it to be clutter, but you wondered about where you could get books. You thought of the anatomy and science books Ireiri used to keep and sometimes show you parts from. You missed her. You missed Kento too. Your whole life was miles away. Or well your old life. Until further notice this was your new life. You sighed as you pulled back the curtain to look out the large window that acted as one of your room’s walls. The sun was starting to set. They were probably just waking and would soon find the letters you had sent for them explaining that you would be working here for a while and not to worry. You were going to let yourself continue to steep in useless emotions when there was a knock on your door.

Before you could respond it swung open. The King himself sauntered into your room like it was his, and well technically it was but you would still call it rude. You bowed your head to him and kept your eyes on the floor as he walked up to you and sniffed.

“Good girl, not a drop of alcohol in you. I didn’t know you were capable of following rules after your earlier outburst”, he said while towering over you.

“What can I say, I am full of surprises my King.”

“King Sukuna, address my name in all of its glory”, he said with what you were sure was a pompous grin.

“Forgive my error King Sukuna. I didn’t mean to hurt your name’s ego”, you said knowing damn well you shouldn’t but couldn’t help it. You wanted to rip the stick out of his ass and beat him with it.

A loud crack echoed throughout your chambers as you felt a slap land on your cheek for your insolence. The impact caused your head to slump to the side, before you cocked it up at him with blood ridden smirk. He had busted your lip, so you straightened your stance and let him watch you lick the blood from the corner before resuming your bow.

“Crazy brat”, he said while thinking about how well you took his strength. Most people would have been left with their heads facing the wrong way from that hit, but instead you smirked through blood tinted teeth. “And to think that I had come bearing gifts. I don’t think you deserve them if you can’t keep that mouth under control though. Naughty bitches shouldn’t be rewarded”, he said with a smirk while using one of his hands to tilt your chin up. “What happened to the good girl that greeted me?”

You fucking hated these pet names. You knew he was just taunting you, but you also knew you would have to comply to get your gifts and for him to leave. And you really wanted a drink at this point. “I sincerely apologize King Sukuna”, you said as you continued to stare up into his eyes. His upper set stared back into yours while the bottom set looked down at the blood smeared across your lip.

“Let me touch you without you leeching my power and I will consider it forgiven.”

You really didn’t want to but knew that there wasn’t really a way around it. Constantly disobeying him wouldn’t be fruitful in the long haul and definitely wouldn’t help you get out of this any quicker, so you sighed and slightly titled your head while still looking at him, “You may touch me for now”.

He chuckled at your allowance, “Why, thank you. How graceful of you to allow your King to touch you.” His hand reached out to your lip before his tongue appeared and lurched out, licking up the residue of your blood. You went to jump back at the unexpected appendage dragging across the side of your lip, but his hand grabbed your hair and kept you still. A feral look started unwinding in his eyes as he tasted you. A look you knew all too well. He was absorbing the Mother’s nectar that pulsed through your body, nostrils flaring as his senses became overridden.

“If you take too much at once your heart will stop— regardless of how strong you are. It will fuel you and boost your abilities, but it is a double edged sword. Not to mention I would die and you would be forever cut off from it”, you said hoping it would convince him not to give into the bloodlust that covered his features.

You weren’t wrong. He could feel his power grow, his blood pumping into his muscles, his ears could hear the smallest of sounds from a mile away, his eyes could see things in what felt like a bird’s eye view and zoomed in one at the same time. Is this how you always were? Was your body this in tune with everything around you? His skin was on fire. He could feel yours with such detail, the warmth it radiated, the power humming through it. If he concentrated enough he felt like he would be able to feel your feelings.

He shoved your face away from him and stepped back, “What are you?”

“A vampire”, you said with as straight of a face as you could.

He blinked a few times as his jaw hung open. “A vampire? They’re real?”

You burst out into a tearful laugh and slapped your knee, “No, of course not! But you should have seen the look on your face, it was almost cute”, you said before composing yourself and quickly trying to fix what you were sure was another mistake, “I apologize for joking with you King Sukuna. It just seemed like it would be funny. I am not a vampire, but I cannot tell you why my blood is like that. I have no issue serving you or allowing you to help yourself to it on occasion, but there are some secrets I must keep. Keeps things fun and fresh, y’know?”

No. He did not know. All he knew was that you were the most insufferable brat with the biggest balls he had ever met. You had just lied to and humiliated him and then laughed in his face. Then told him you would continue to keep secrets from him for your own entertainment. Honestly, he was baffled. He never had to deal with insolence like this. Most people would have never dared talk to him like this, and if they had, they would have been struck down on the spot. If you weren’t growing more and more useful by the day he would have already killed you. Maybe he could tie you up and use you as a blood bag, or kidnap one of those friends you wrote to. That would likely end up with an all out brawl between the two of you and as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t want to kill you. So he just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Awh, you actually felt a little bad about how flustered he looked. He had opened and closed his mouth a few times before resorting to the classic sigh and bridge pinch. You guess there actually was a chance he had never been joked around with at length.

“I am sorry King Sukuna, truly. My joke was insensitive and disrespectful. I truly didn’t mean anything deeper than to get a laugh out of me and maybe you. I am sorry if I have upset you”, you said with your brows knitted together.

Pity. You were giving him pity. As if he didn’t feel angry enough, you were now looking down on him. “Give me your hand”.

You were confused and slightly nervous given the dark look swimming in his eyes, but you obeyed and placed your hand within his. Within a split second he was applying a crushing force to it, your bones breaking under his temporary boost in strength. You bit and sucked on the inside of your cheek to keep from releasing any noises or tears for him.

“Beg for forgiveness”, he said while digging his fingers in between the bones of your hand, blood dripping onto the floor. He watched as you stared up at him with anger lashing behind your pupils. He could feel your urge to fight him right there, but his urge was the same. He had put up with your cheeky remarks but for you to so openly look down on him as if he was weak enough to need pity was a line he wasn’t going to let you cross without consequence. He spread his fingers as the ligaments holding your knuckles tore apart. Tears swelled in your eyes but refused to pool over the edge. That’s it, cry for him.

God you wanted to take him into the realm in between and tear him limb from limb. You wanted to stab your energy through each of his wrists and wrap it around his hands before slowly pulling them off his body. You wanted to watch him scream in pain for you, but you knew that would be a shortsighted win. So you swallowed your bitter pride and begged. “Please, King Sukuna forgive me.”

“Beg harder brat”, he said while clenching his fist, your bones starting to snap sideways through your skin as blood now poured onto the floor.

You hated begging but fucking hell your hand hurt. You had experienced pain before but never have you not been able to end it. You hated him. Fuck joking around with him. Fuck letting him touch you. Fuck letting him experience your blood. He didn’t deserve any of it. He was a spiteful little shit too cocky for his own good. Maybe you could say screw it to the whole deal and just fucking end him here. Maybe your Mother would accept him as a gift and he could become a mindless slave for her and bow to you both. Fuck, you’d be damned if he would make you run to your mother for help though. You would turn him into a slave on your own. It may take time, patience, and groveling, but you would find a time to strike. Send your magic right into his mind and never let go. Poke holes into it until he is just a puppet for your amusal. And then you would walk him around the realm, leashed and on his knees for you. A good boy. Fucking asshole, you would ruin him, “Please King Sukuna, please forgive me. I am so sorry for what I said. Please stop hurting me. I promise I will be better for you, I will be good for you.”

Looking down at your teary eyes, the watered down blood residue on your lower cheek, your mangled hand drenched in red, and hearing you beg to be good for him had his cock twitching on the spot. He pulled his fingers out of your hands and licked the blood off of them, relishing in the feeling that washed over him again. “If you would just be a good girl for me all the time I wouldn’t have to hurt you like this, your words are so pretty but those eyes still look like they want me dead. Close them.”

He wanted you to close your eyes? To go back to seeing the world in black? Fucking asshole had no idea the depth he was torturing you with such a simple command, but if you resisted he would know. So you closed your eyes and felt his hand wrap around your throat and pull you up towards him, “You are mine, brat. I own you and you will obey me one way or another. Do you understand, pet?” He brushed the hair around your face as he waited for your response.

“Yes, King Sukuna,” you managed to get out in a choked gurgle. He is right. If he could see your eyes right now, it would all be murderous intent.

He licked along your jaw to your ear before pricking it and licking up the blood that pooled, “Good girl”.

The King had left shortly after that and to your surprise allowed your gifts to be brought in. You wasted no time downing a few shots before looking at the hand he had mangled earlier. It had healed before he had even let you go, but you were still pissed. Talk about no sense of humor. You make a few jokes and he shreds your fucking hand and treats you like an object. You punched the air a few times as your frustration built. You needed some sort of release. Sex, yes. Sex would be a great release. Someone to burn off some of your energy so you could calm the fuck down. But there was no one to do it with. Ughhhh you hated it here and it had only been one day. You sighed as you stared down your empty glass. Kento would know how to calm you down. He would have you seeing stars and forgetting all your troubles within minutes.

You decided to cut your losses on sex and go for a walk instead. You hadn’t been given a curfew, so you had your servants take you down to where the river hugged the border of the shrine. You drank straight from the bottle as you sat with your knees up to your chest and looked into the water. It felt so calm, so free, so peaceful. You think that if you were to die you would want to drown and allow your body to float to the bottom and never be found. You could deteriorate into the water until you were one.

“Rough day”, Geto asked as he walked up to where you were sitting.

You were sure he already knew the answer so you just scoffed.

He sighed at your response or lack thereof. “Hey, hey, HEEEEY—.”

“WHAT”, you shouted before giggling at his use of your own antics.

He gave you a smile before coming to sit beside you, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay we don—.”

“Just what is his problem? All I did was joke with him and he tore apart my fucking hand? I would just not speak to him and avoid crossing paths, but he came into my room. How the hell can I avoid him if he comes to me? I am obviously going to say something stupid, because that’s apparently just a me thing, so why make situations that don’t need to happen? He is just insufferable”, you interrupted. You were so frustrated with your situation, but saying it out loud also made it sound childish. You were just as much to blame for this mess. You should know to just speak to him as little as possible and play along with his delusion to make your life easier. It felt simple enough until he actually spoke. Everything he did got under your skin, you hated everything about him.

“Are you done?”

“Oh fuck you too”, you said while taking another drink. “I know I should just keep my mouth shut and that I am part of the problem. I have just never had to answer to anyone like I do him. I am strong enough to not have to bow my head, yet here I am, constantly forced to look at the floor.”

“You two are so alike”, he said quietly, “you’re both so strong that your first thought is to deal with things through violence. It is like two opposing magnets trying to make a connection, you just constantly fight for dominance.”

He wasn’t wrong. You hated that you had to be the one to analyze your behavior and not him but maybe that would be easier. Without really thinking you laid your head on his shoulder, “Thank you for talking with me even though you don’t really like me.”

He looked down at where your head lay before looking out at the water with you, “I know I am such a saint helping the perpetually needy”, he said while smiling which earned him a light punch in the side. “You’re not all bad. If anything, this is the most exciting things have been here since the war.”

“I know, right? I’m funny and exciting, dammit. Finally, someone here sees it”, you say with a drunken hum at the end. This, right here, was nice. It felt like being home. You smiled and gave another hum before sitting up. “I should probably go back to my quarters, thank you again for talking with me.”

“And here I thought you were going to burden me with carrying you back to your room after drooling all over my shoulder”, he said while also getting up and brushing himself off.

“I had considered it, but I figured I had burdened you enough for a day. Check back in tomorrow, yeah”, you say with a smile while waving your hand carrying the empty bottle of tequila and heading back to your room. Your servants followed you close behind, making sure you didn’t trip over any of the steps on the way.

You woke early the next morning and had your servants take you to the training area. You started with a good amount of stretches as you tried to calm your mind. Currently, your goal was to play along with Lord Spooky, so you could minimize your interactions with him. Life here was probably going to be lonely, but you were supposed to start actually training as one of Sukuna’s guards in a few days. You honestly didn’t know what all that entailed. He already ruled most of the land and didn’t have any immediate enemies, so what was your purpose? Uraume was basically his personal secretary and Geto traveled to deal with diplomatic issues.

You moved your body into a handstand as you continued to ponder. Would you continue your job as an assassin and kill those who defied him? That was the only real guess you had, because why else would he need you? He didn’t know about your blood when he first met you, so you doubted you were called to be a refillable potion for him. Did he know about your ability to enter people’s minds? Were you here to get inside people’s heads and find out just how loyal they were? To weed out potential traders before they even have a chance to act? You had absolutely no idea and this train of thought had obviously derailed from the calming track on the spiraling one.

You took in a deep breath as you continued to hold yourself upside down. You thought about your time with the Mother. She was way more cruel than he was, but she had a right to be cocky. She could wipe anyone off the face of the earth with just a thought. She is as old as time and could outsmart any creature. So why you? This wasn’t the first time you had asked yourself this question. You had no idea why she spared you and you don’t think she really did either. She would always just say curiosity and leave it at that. You wondered if you were making her proud with this decision. You knew that curses had been on the rise ever since you started working and that the ones you created were vastly different than hers or the ones organically created, but it didn’t feel like enough. Maybe that’s why you chose to serve Sukuna. He had obviously been gifted when it came to cursed energy and was cruel like Mother, like you too in a lot of ways. Deep down you are hoping he will show you the path to making Mother proud, but maybe it is just a lie you’re chasing down a rabbit hole.

You let out a sigh as you stood up from your position, shaking out your wrists and rolling your neck. You hated how lost you felt in your own thoughts, so you decided to stop thinking all together as you tapped into your energy. You could feel it expand around you as your senses changed. You could feel the energy of everything around you in greater detail than before. You could see the faint life forces of the bugs around you, feel the energy of the wind that surged into your being, see all of the servants working on the shrine and the fear that possessed them to scrub until their hands cracked. An all too familiar presence crept closer to where you were. You knew they had been walking this way for quite some time, but also knew they had already sensed you, so running was obsolete. You stood at the edge of the training grounds barefoot. To most onlookers, it looked like all you were doing was standing there. But those who could see cursed energy, could see it very faintly drapsed across the area like a spider web made of mist. Letting you know everything going on down to the smallest detail. If you wanted you could enter someone’s mind or simply listen in on conversations happening behind closed doors. You could even pool your energy into an area and create a curse if you so felt the need.

Sukuna cleared his throat as he drew closer onto the field. “Good morning King Sukuna, my apologies. I didn’t realize you used the training grounds in the morning. I will leave you to it”, you said while bowing and turning to take your leave.

“I didn’t say you could leave, pet. Continue your training, it was in your stipulations after all”, he said while walking towards the center of the training ground.

You really didn’t want to stay, but you had no choice, so you decided to continue to work on your body control. You went from a push up, into a handstand, into a one handed handstand pushup, and then back down to repeat. The Mother had taught you that one of the most effective ways to truly control your cursed energy was by learning how to control your body. You worked in slow controlled movement, allowing your energy to run along your muscles like water.

Sweat began to form on your body and visibly swam down your muscles since the top you decided to work out in was the equivalent of a modest sports bra. It wrapped around your neck, curved down from there to over your boobs, before connecting with itself in the back. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now that Sukuna was here, you felt a little exposed. It’s not that you were shy about your body, but you could feel his gaze wondering over to you. His type probably has smooth skin free of scarring and devoid of muscle like a doll. Not that his type mattered to you. Because it didn’t.

“What exactly are you training by doing that”, he probed from above you.

“A key to expanding your understanding and control over your cursed energy, is to feel the general energy within you body and how it flows. Understanding how it flows and being able to feel it at any given time allows you to guide it. Which allows you to enhance certain parts of your body at a second’s notice. If you add cursed energy to the regular energy, then the effectiveness multiplies, King Sukuna,” you said through steadier breaths than he expected. To him, the concentration looked like strain, like you were having a hard time when it actually sounded like you were doing nothing when you talked.

He got down beside you and started copying what you were doing, but let out a frustrated groan,”I don’t feel anything. It isn’t working.” You weren’t looking at him but he could see your lips twitch into a smile. Brat.

You stopped your cycle and knelt beside him, “I can show you how to do it, but it would require me to touch and look at you, King Sukuna”.

“Wow are you asking me permission to touch and look at me? I never thought I’d see the day,” and he wasn’t lying. Part of him loved you asking him permission, but the other missed your rudeness. He didn’t regret punishing you yesterday, but now he was worried you might start treating him like everyone else did.

“Yes, King Sukuna. I figured it would be in my best interest to start following more of the rules”.

You weren’t smiling at him, you weren’t trying to joke with him, you were talking to him with complete indifference. He didn’t realize you would be that upset over what happened. Your hand was obviously fine now, so why were you being so cold? “You have permission for both, but if you fail to teach me, I will punish you again.” He knew that probably wasn’t the best choice of words but it definitely sparked something within yours eyes. He watched as you bit the insides of your cheeks, obviously trying to withhold a shitty remark. He wanted to hear it, though.

You took a deep breathe and swallowed what you wanted to say, “I will do my best to please you, King Sukuna.” He even hated the way you said his name with respect. He liked the way played with the vowels before.

“First, you should take a really deep breath. Feel how it fills your lungs and provides your body with oxygen”. He watches as you take a deep breath and motion for him to do the same. With a slight eye roll over how stupid this feels, he follows suit. He can feel it enter through his nose and how the muscles in his body soak it up.

“The feeling is faint but that is how your energy feels when you focus on it. Now let’s start in a narrow pushup position”, you don’t move but motion for him to. He gets into position with all four of his arms on the ground. You tell him to slowly descend and really allow himself to feel how his muscles work. He starts going down, but doesn’t feel anything.

He groans again, “It still isn’t working. I am beginning to think you are just lying and I should shred your other hand.”

“You will not shred my fucking hand due to your lack of fucking patience to follow a simple direction. I am not lying and my teaching will work if you would just shut the hell up and listen”, you cleared your throat as you remembered you were supposed to stay composed, “King Sukuna. So please just listen and follow my instructions”.

There you were. He knew he was being annoying, but he had to find some way to get you to act like normal again. “Wow and here we were doing so good on manners”, he says while going back into position. He starts going down quicker than he was supposed to so you put your hand against his chest.

“You need to go slower than how I was. It is easier to feel the energy when your motions are so controlled it looks like you aren’t moving”, you say keeping your hands on his chest and guiding him down. He looks up at you while you do it and you know your face is a little pink. His chest is firm and warm. You wonder what it would feel like to lick and bite his muscles. His skin is softer than you would have imagined and he smells so good. He smells like jasmine and petrichor. It beckons you to pull his hair back and kiss down his neck before crawling into his grasp. You want to know what it would feel like to makeout with him while his other mouth sucks on one of your nipples. He has so many hands to make sure no part of you lacks attention. You quickly pull your thoughts out of your loins as you focus on his energy. You begin to see it flowing throughout his muscles and start tracing the patterns with your fingers.

He can feel the way your fingertips ghost over his skin as you continue to avoid eye contact with him. With how big you talk, he didn’t think you would get like this just from touching his bare chest. Not that he was really one to talk. The way you were ever so lightly touching him and staring at his body, occasionally meeting his stare, had him thinking all kinds of thoughts. He thought about how your skin tasted and felt against his tongue. He wondered about how your tongue tasted, how your cum tasted. How that snarky mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He wanted to know if you could control your inside muscles like you’re showing him and milk him like he has never been milked. He wants to see the face you make when you cum and he wants to be the one you make it for. He wondered how it would feel to have you straddle him and lay against his chest as he stroked your hair. Stupid little thoughts really.

He was so caught up in them he almost didn’t feel the flow of his energy under your fingertips, “I can feel it now. I can feel the energy flowing through me.”

You clear your throat and remove your hands from him, “That’s good. Once you are confident you have pinpointed it, start moving at the speed I was through the motions”, you say while scooting away a bit to give him room.

He continues through the motions until he has it down. He does it for a few minutes before asking how to imbue it with cursed energy.

You tell him to stop and sit up. You bring yourself closer until your knees are touching and grab two of his hands, putting them in between your own. “I am going to put my cursed energy into the energy in your hands. I won’t let it travel any further from these two and you will be able to feel it. I just need to show you how it feels, because it isn’t a process I can explain since everyone’s energy is a little different. But once you feel mine moving with your natural energy, your body should be able to figure out how to do it.”

“An inch past my hands and my other two will snap your neck, okay?”

You can’t help but smile and roll your eyes a little, “that is fair.”

You hold his hands and close your eyes as you focus on releasing a sliver of your energy into his fingers and through his palms. He watches you closely, the way your eyes flutter under your lids as you concentrate, the way your lips and chest move in sync with your breathing. He doesn’t know what he is feeling or why, but it isn’t not nice. He almost never wants this moment to end, but then he feels it. He has added cursed energy to his body before but it has never felt so connected. It is like he can feel every fiber of his being, control every atom. His own cursed energy wraps around yours, making you shiver slightly, before letting go of his hands. Your energy leaves with you and his continues to race from his hands throughout his whole body.

“This…this is incredible. I feel like I am actually alive for the first time”, he says in a quiet tone for only you two to hear.

“I am glad I could help, King Sukuna.” You get up and dust yourself off. “I think it is about time for me to wash this sweat off, though,” you say as you begin walking towards your quarters.

“Will you train in the morning again tomorrow,” he asks to what seems to be to both of your shocks. He didn’t even realize the words were coming out until they were spoken. What were you doing to him? Earlier, he wanted to tear you limb from limb, and now he wanted to never stop being touched like how you just did.

“Do you want me to?”

“What you do matters little to me”, he says in a very disinterested tone as he gets up and tries to regain his composure.

“I will be.”

“I said it didn’t matter. Now stop looking at me and speaking so casually, brat”, he retorts as he starts doing the training he originally came to do.

“Yes, King Sukuna”, you say with a small grin as you bow before leaving the training grounds.

Crazy. You were going to drive each other absolutely crazy one way or another.

Notes: this one is a bit shorter than the last but the next one will probably be quite long and will most definitely have them fucking. I hope you all enjoyed it ;) some more notes about this chapter

- Geto didn’t like the reader previously because he didn’t believe in the rumor he had heard like the King. He believed they were just an alcoholic with a knack for spreading lies. This is why he had so much hate for them in the beginning. He opens up to the idea of liking them when they practically managed to kick his head off without him even being able to react. This also makes it easier to laugh at their shitty jokes since he isn’t in such a mood over being near them anymore. When they come out in the garb he prefers to see women in he is shook. He knew that they had attractive features but he didn’t think they were his kind of attractive. The he watched them mouth off to Sukuna (something he has always wanted to do) and live?? And keep up with his attacks and literally stun all three of them?? Yea, he was kinda like damn I didn’t know you got down like that. He is by no means in love with them but he wouldn’t be against a good fuck. He is okay with being friends though as they keep things interesting.

- Sukuna fucking hates the reader and wants to annihilate them. But also hold them against his chest and brush their hair. He wants to show them levels of pain they didn’t know possible. But also wants to be the one to comfort them and make them feel better. He doesn’t love the reader, but also wants to be around them for more than just sex or power. He doesn’t understand why he is drawn to them and doesn’t want to kill them, but it has been happening since before they arrived. Mans had someone stalking them for quite some time. He hates how they mouth off and disrespect him, but also hates when they don’t. He will hurt them for not being able to keep up with his ever changing whims and then comfort them while telling them to be better from no on. Is it toxic? Duh, it’s Sukuna babes. He is not a soft or even reasonable lover… yet anyway. Who knows where they’ll end up.

- The reader was aware of someone stalking her but anytime they noticed them, their energy immediately disappeared. They have had many people watch them and plan to attack them in the past and they slaughtered all so they didn’t think too much about it. She has the same emotional conflict as Sukuna. There is obvious sexual attraction, but also he is a complete asshole, but so sweet sometimes. She is no saint, nor is she fragile, so maybe she deserves that kind of love. She can always dish it back out if she chose. Sukuna would secretly love it because no one has ever been able to truly hurt him. But realistically they are two kids that were dropped on their heads into cursed energy apparently. Born to be monsters, but who knows if that will be all their legacies leave.

Taglist: @missroro