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kaiser1ns · 2 months ago

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#. CHEATER, CHEATER STOP !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, takiishi chika, togame jo, kaji ren

fluff. yes, what you did was indeed cheating to some extent, but sometimes you have to play dirty to win.

UMEMIYA HAJIME

"I knew it, you were cheating on me..." the pain in his voice, the agony and misery colored his face and his eyes began to water slowly, drop by drop as if at any moment the wall holding the dam would collapse. "But i didn't expect to be with my own best friend."

"Hajime it's not what it looks like, I-I swear I can explain," you demanded, stuttering in the process as you were caught in the act, right on the spot.

"It's not what it seems? With everything that we've been through and all that I've given for you ... And this is how you repay me?" he slammed his hands on the table, furious that was one way to describe the situation as he was starring at both of you, trying to dig out an answer.

The uno cards scattered across the table seemed to echo the shattered pieces of trust that was once held in the palms of your hands. Hiragi stepped in, "It was all her idea. I am innocent." Umemiya raised an eyebrow at you like you just broke his heart (you did). "I didn't know my girlfriend was secretly an Uno mastermind and that you Hiragi would be her little follower."

"Baby, don't take it too seriously, it's just a game." You laughed a little because of his dramatic reaction, yes what you did was indeed cheating, at some point, but if you want to win you have to play dirty sometimes.

Umemiya sighed dramatically, he is being such a child right now, "Just a game? And you made me draw 32 cards because it's just a game. Do you even understand the emotional trauma you've put me through?"

"Pretty much yeah." you said nodding of head followed by Hiragi's humming, because everyone goes through it — you either put the plus cards or you draw them, no in between.

Umemiya shot Hiragi a look of betrayal before turning back to you with furrowing his eyes and pouting. You flashed him a grin, your smile so genuine like you just didn't commit the most serious crime against your boyfriend. "I will make it up to you, anything you want. More cuddles? You got it. More kisses? On the way!"

You stood up from your place to sit next to him, as you held your hand for him to take it. And he did as you kissed him on the cheek, leaving a little scent from your strawberry lipgloss you know he adored.

He can't be that mad at you, not for too long. Despite you being a cheater.

"She's pretty good at making pancakes, just saying." The white head couldn't help but laugh at his best friend's comment, knowing how much they loved your pancakes. Food tastes better when you're in good company, not with cheaters of course. "Alright, fine. But no more stacking up the whole deck against me."

You nodded, suppressing a giggle. "I will try, no promises~"

TAKIISHI CHIKA

The two of you sit on the floor, surrounded by scattered UNO cards, your laughter filling the room. Boredom crept into Chika's features after the countless games over the past hour, but then, you laid down a +4 card, well luck was on your side today. He's about to draw twenty cards, practically handing you the win.

“You should stop doing that,” he mutters, his patience worn out after countless games. You can't help but laugh, teasing him with your victory. "Don't be a sore loser now, baby. You did pretty good but I always win."

Just as you're reveling in your win, Chika threw his cards aside angry and annoyed by your so-hidden antics. Before you know it, he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards him. You squeal in surprise as he settles you on his lap, clearly having lost interest in the game.

"You know that flirting with your rival will do you no good, right?" you say, half-joking, as he removes the cards from your hand. Chika’s golden eyes lock onto yours, a serious stare replacing the soft smile that had tried to form on his lips. "You should stop cheating," he says, his voice low and demanding, as he knows you all too well by now and how you proceed to get your wins.

"I did not!" you exclaim, genuinely offended. You’ve always had luck drawing the right cards at the right time, but cheating? Never. You always play fair, and you give your opponent a chance to make their best strategy.

"I will make sure you learn your lesson," he says, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the intent behind his words. He moves your head slightly as if inspecting you, making you feel like a doll in his hands. What's gotten into him? It nice though, to see him behave like that.

"It's not okay to threaten girls," you tease, touching his hands that still cup your face.

"It's not okay to cheat," he counters, Touché. You frown, pretending to be ready to get up, despite your best efforts, his grip is firm. He’s not letting you go just yet. Chika always seems to see through your tricks. He’s always claimed he wouldn’t be a perfect boyfriend, but calling you a cheater? That's a new low, even for him.

His eyes study you, as if you're a puzzle he's trying to solve. In many ways, you are. You bring out a side of him that’s unfamiliar even to himself. If Endo had been here, he’d have said this was completely out of character for Takiishi. Yet, here he is, a lovesick fool, the joker in the deck, and the plus card in the UNO game of your relationship—always keeping you with a million questions in mind not knowing what to expect next.

“And what are you going to do now?” you whisper, as he leaned closer. His breath is warm against your skin and the game is long forgotten.

TOGAME JO

Togame loved shogi, especially playing with the elders from whom he had learned so much. You admired this hobby of his and how good he was at the game, but today, you were determined to finally beat him. The record was 4-0 in his favor, but you still won't give up, not when you were so close to taking his king this time.

As the game progressed, your focus sharpened, your moves becoming more strategic. Your boyfriend watched you with an affectionate smile, clearly enjoying the way you were so deep into focus. Then, in a moment that felt almost unreal, you saw it. The opening. Your hands moved almost on their own, and you captured his king.

"I did it?" you whispered to yourself, still unsure if you had truly won. But the realization hit, and a wide grin appeared on your already beautiful face. "I did it!"

Togame's eyes lit up with a warm and proud smile directed at you, "Congratulations," he said warmly, reaching over the headboard to shake your hand. You extended yours as well, but instead of a handshake, he tugged on the sleeve of your blouse. To your shock, a few of his shogi pawns fell out, clattering onto the board.

"W-what… How did they end up here?" you stammered, trying to mask your 'surprised' face. "Pfft, can you imagine?"

Togame stared at you, his expression turning serious, though his eyes still held a hint of playfulness. "Y/N, you didn't need to cheat," he said, his voice gentle despite the scolding. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "I didn't mean to," you mumbled, feeling embaressed that he found out, no tricks up your sleeves, yet he didn't belive any of it. "I just wanted to beat you once in something."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Your determination is one of the things I love most about you. But next time, let's keep it fair and square, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "Okay," you agreed, smiling at him. "But just so you know, I would have won anyway."

He laughed, a sound that always made you feel warm inside. "We'll see about that," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your forehead.

KAJI REN

It was one of those rare times when Kaji finished his patrols around the town early as he found himself resting with you and Kusumi, his fellow vice-captain. You had suggested playing UNO to kill time until the others returned. Kusumi had easily secured first place, and now it was just you and Kaji left in a heated duel.

The game had stretched out, each of you fiercely battling with plus cards, neither willing to back down. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of back-and-forth, you managed to clinch victory with a triumphant smile. Kaji looked at you, then at Kusumi, who extended his hand to you, to give you plus cards. The realization dawned on him.

"Is this how you're going to play now?" Kaji's voice was tinged with anger and annoyance, his usual calm demeanor shattered. You noticed his lollipop, previously a sweet distraction, was now gone.

"What do you mean Ren?" you asked innocently, placing another +4 card on the table, sealing the deal. Your boyfriend threw his remaining cards onto the table, clearly pissed off. His frustration was visible as he was about to open his mouth to express his annoyance, but you acted quickly, placing another lollipop in his mouth, silencing him effectively.

"We'll talk about this later," you said, your tone teasing. "For now, let me enjoy my win, baby."

The word "baby" came out a bit like an insult, making him sulk even more. Despite his irritation, he couldn't stay mad at you forever. As he sucked on the lollipop, his annoyance seemed to melt away, replaced by the warmth of your presence. Kusumi chuckled, shaking his head at the two of you, standing up to leave you alone sensing that Kaji wanted to be with you now.

"You cheated," he mumbled around the lollipop. You leaned in closer, your face inches from his. "Maybe," you whispered, "but you still love me." He couldn't help but roll his eyes at you, his earlier anger slowly disappearing. "Yeah, I do," he admitted, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "But next time, I'm winning."

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. "You already won if you want to know." It took him a while to find the meaning in your words, but cuddled with him, Kaji knew best what you meant.

taglist :: @meidiary @kazuhaiku @kiurona @maruflix @stunie @nyxypoo @kajibunny

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hotchscoffeecup · 4 months ago

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unstuck (pt.2 to stuck)

pairing: hotch x reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff

rating: e

summary: it’s been two weeks since you and hotch were stuck in an elevator together and two weeks since he’d nearly kissed you. unable to shake him from your mind, you’re pleasantly surprised when he shows up at your house with flowers and a plan.

“Well look who decided to show up?” Derek teases as he passes by your desk.

You flash him an amused smile and plop your bag down inside your bottom drawer. “Good morning to you too, Morgan.”

“Are you still on light duty?” Reid asks from his desk, which is parallel to yours.

You nod. “I have a follow up in a week with the doctor to get cleared to go back in the field, but I haven’t had any pain or headaches in several days now.”

“And look,” Derek says, perching on the side of your desk. “You even got a little bitty battle scar.” He inclines his head towards you, where the tail of your eyebrow is now severed; a pale pink line now traversing it.

You scoff, “Battle scar, please. Let’s just tell people I got tackled by an unsub or had to break through a window or anything that isn’t me falling face first into an elevator panel in front of my boss.”

“Speaking of…” Derek trails off and subtly points toward Hotch’s office, where JJ just finished dropping off a file.

Hotch moves swiftly out of his office and knocks on Rossi’s door, summoning him. With Rossi now trailing behind him, he leans over the railing. “Conference room,” he says, and it’s an order. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on yours for a second longer than he normally would.

“What was that?” Spencer asks as you grab your mug of coffee and head towards the conference room.

“What was what?” you ask, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. Leave it to the boy genius to pick up on that which is imperceptible. Well, okay, that is your job after all, but still.

“The extended eye contact with Hotch. Are you in trouble?”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Spencer, it’s my first day back. Why would I be in trouble?”

He frowns and shrugs, though there’s a curious glint in his eye. “Not sure.”

“Spencer,” you warn, drawing out his name. His lips twitch into a smile as he quickens his pace and dips into the conference room.

Damn that boy and his big giant brain. You settle in next to him at the round table, where you can keep an eye on him and whatever subtle antics he might try to employ to dig more meaning out of things.

Penelope struts into the room, her multi-colored pigtails streaked with blue and purple bouncing as she draws to a stop in front of the wide monitor.

“Good afternoon, Crime Fighters. Boy, do we have a doozy on our hands today…”

You feel Hotch’s eyes on you as Penelope flashes images across the screen of crime scene photos from the local PD down in Raleigh, North Carolina. It takes everything you have not to look up at him from your case file and listen to what Penelope is saying.

At the end of the briefing, you gather your belongings and swiftly exit the room. Dropping the file on your desk in passing, you dash into the restroom and lean over the sink. You exhale a deep breath and swipe a hand through your hair. “What are you doing?” you whisper to your reflection. “You’re acting like a middle schooler.”

“What’s this about middle school?”

You startle at the sound of Emily’s voice. The door creaks as it shuts behind her.

“Nothing!” you answer quickly, too quickly.

One of Emily’s perfectly manicured eyebrows arches toward her hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the wall. “Spill.”

You do, and you don’t hold back. The words tumble out of your mouth in an avalanche of detail.

Emily’s eyes widen. “Hotch?”

You nod vigorously. “Yes!”

“Hotch cupped your face in his hand?”

You groan, “With extended eye contact!”

Emily waves her hands in front of her, face scrunching. “I need a visual. Do it to me. Pretend I’m you and you’re Hotch.”

You roll your eyes and relent, approaching Emily. With eyes locked on hers, you force a concerned expression onto your face and cradle her cheek in your hand.

At that moment, the door swings open and JJ strides into the bathroom. When she sees you and Emily in this compromising position, her face is a wash of confusion.

“What is going on here?”

“Oh my God,” Emily says, mouth agape.

“Oh my God,” you whine and drop your hand from her face.

“Do you understand what I’m talking about now?”

Emily nods slowly, “Yeah.”

“Hello?” JJ says, waving her hand out in front of her. “Anyone want to clue me in here?”

Emily’s lips curve into a sly smile. “Someone has a crush on a certain Unit Chief.”

JJ’s jaw drops to her chest as your eyes sharpen to daggers. You reach forward and punch Emily in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she exclaims, laughing and rubbing her shoulder. “And vice versa!” she adds.

“No!” JJ responds, the disbelief evident in her voice. She leans her hip against the sink. “Well, what are you gonna do about it?”

You throw your hands in the air. “I don’t know! What are you supposed to do after something like that? It’s easy to get lost in the idea of it when you’re stuck in an elevator and then in a small hospital room for six hours. He took me to breakfast at 4am at this 24 hour diner and then insisted on taking me home. The whole time, no matter where we were, we just laughed and talked and none of it was about work.”

“Hotch with a sense of humor?” Emily questions. “Our Hotch?”

“Yes! And now we’re back at work and he’s all serious and stern, but I catch these subtle-not-subtle looks and now I don’t know if I’m reading into things or we’re both just too awkward and scared to acknowledge something was going on that night.”

“Not to be the stick in the mud,” JJ starts, “but do you think it could’ve been a product of being stuck together? Like maybe the forced proximity brought up feelings you might not otherwise feel for one another.”

“No, you’re definitely not a stick in the mud. I thought the exact same thing. And then I thought because I was home for two weeks that I was just ruminating on the idea of toeing that line with him and then I started to focus on the little things like that stupid dimple in his chin when he smiles and the way he remembers the little things about everyone and now I don’t know if I actually like him or just this conflated idea of him.”

Emily blows out a slow breath. “I definitely don’t think you’ve conflated anything. I think you got a glimpse of the real Hotch and that was exciting for both of you and now you’re both in uncharted waters without a map and you’re freaking out.”

You sigh, blowing a piece of hair out of your face. “What am I supposed to do?”

JJ and Emily exchange a knowing look. “Let us handle that.”

•

You heave a sigh of relief as you settle into the plush couch cushions in your living room. Your phone buzzes on the counter, but you ignore it. You can take at least five minutes to yourself before work summons you back to the office. You’d only just gotten home from work about twenty minutes ago. The clock reads 8:24PM, but you feel as though you could go to bed right now and sleep for twelve hours.

You rub the raised scar tissue at your eyebrow. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but you can’t believe how two weeks out of work has caused your stamina to dwindle. Just sitting at your desk all day has you exhausted…maybe you should take Morgan up on his offer to jog together before work, get your energy levels back up before you return to the field.

That is a call you’ll make later though. For now, your only job is to decide between Indian or Thai takeout for dinner. As you pick up the menus off of your coffee table, there’s a knock at the front door.

Brow furrowed, you stand up and make your way towards the entryway of your apartment, unsure of who it could be.

When you open the door, your lips part in surprise.

“Hotch, what are you doing here?”

He licks his lips before smiling awkwardly. “I, uh, I tried to call.”

“I left my phone on the charger. What uh, is everything okay? Is there a case?” God you hoped not. The team had only just returned from Raleigh a few hours ago.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yes. Everything is fine. There’s no case. Nothing like that. I um, I brought you these.” He moves fully into the doorway, a bouquet of carnations dotted with baby’s breath in hand.

Your features relax as you take them. “Hotch, these are beautiful.”

He scrubs a hand through his hair, a crimson blush spreading across his cheeks. “Emily told me they were your favorite. I had a really interesting conversation with her and JJ on the plane.”

You stiffen, only mildly embarrassed. Oh God, what did they say?

He smiles again. “They reminded me how out of practice I am when it comes to all of this.” He waves a hand through the air.

“Oh yeah?” you press, a smile of your own playing on your lips. “And what might this be Agent Hotchner?”

He shakes his head as a melodic chuckle tumbles from his mouth. He knows you’re toying with him. “Dating. Asking people out.” His warm eyes flick up to meet yours. “Asking you out.”

“Is that what’s happening now?” you tease.

He nods, the smile never leaving his lips. “Yes, I am asking you out. I thought maybe I’d take you to dinner. We talk, not about work,” he adds pointedly. “We drink some wine, maybe share a dessert.”

“Aaron Hotchner, a dessert guy. Who would’ve thought?”

He inclines his head, amused. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You arch a brow, intrigued. Grabbing your purse off of the hook by the door, you withdraw your keys and step out onto the welcome mat, closing the door behind you and locking it. “I was wrestling with what to order for dinner tonight. I was stuck between Thai or Indian.” You turn around, your body just barely pressing against him in the small porch space. You tilt your chin up to look at him and

watch his Adam’s apple bob. You stand on your toes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving to speak in his ear. “Care to surprise me?”

As you step past him onto the sidewalk leading down to the curb, you feel one of Hotch’s wide hands wrap around your forearm. He twirls you around and pulls you up against his body. He doesn’t hesitate and presses his lips against yours, kissing you with such fervor you swear you see stars. When he pulls away you’re both breathless and your eyes are still closed. Hotch whispers in your ear, “Surprised?”

You nod, opening your eyes and looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Very.”

The corner of his lips twitch as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How long have you been wanting to do that?”

He looks up, as if the answer to the question is somewhere in the stars above. After a moment, he levels his gaze back on you. “When did we get stuck inside that elevator?”

Your lips quirk into a smile. “About two weeks, give or take.”

He nods, “I’d say about three months before that.”

Your eyes widen, brow climbing towards your hairline. “Well, damn, Hotch.”

“I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?” He opens the car door for you and you slide in with ease. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he starts the car. His hand lingers on the gear shift, not quite ready to shift into drive. He looks at you, eyes glimmering in the street lights outside.

“If we do this, it won’t be easy.”

You lean over the center console, meeting his gaze head on. With a smile on your lips, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, no longer scared to make a move; all of your walls having crumbled the second he’d kissed you on the sidewalk. “Nothing about our lives is easy.”

“Then we’re doing this?”

“We’re doing this.”

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hoshinasblade · 10 days ago

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you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.

the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.

you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.

because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.

captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.

you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.

"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.

"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.

"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."

you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.

you did not know being known could feel this sweet.

"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.

[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.

also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]

#this was cooking in my head for a while #and i was like #well this sounds cute #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #hoshina soshiro fic #hoshina #vice captain hoshina

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anniflamma · 2 months ago

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This isn't a question, but rather a love letter to your art<3.

Thanks to you, I've started enjoying Greek mythology and the Bible again (I mean from a point of artistic, mythological, historical, and theological analysis; my status with any kind of religion is being agnostic XD).

And I already enjoyed Epic the Musical, but I really love the designs you make, how you empathize with the symbolism and lore of the Gods when designing them, and how you make Odysseus so human with his crude expressions that makes me empathize with him (And he's one of the characters I hated the most from Greek mythology lol)

And then there’s your art about the bible, I have to admit that I tend to avoid the biblical religion because of the weight it still has on our daily lives, the damage it has done from the past to this day, and how they deny it with current hypocrisy (I live in Spain, there the official religion is catholic), but your lgbt drawings have really encouraged me to open the bible and see it from an objective and neutral point of view, and just enjoy it as another book and not as something I’m forced to follow.

Also I didn’t know there was so much LGBT content in the bible XD Seriously, thank you so much, if you had a patreon, I would pay you for the amount of happiness and culture you have given me (^///^)

By the way, reading your posts I found out that you recently experienced an internet drama that has become so popular lately. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry that both you and that poor artist had to go through this, that human hypocrisy has no limits or shame, and that I agree with everything you say. Just because we like a character or an author doesn't mean we agree with their crimes or ideologies.

I hope you have a nice day<3

Hi! I’m sorry it took me a while to respond! I mean it, I’ve read this over and over, and it makes me so happy. I’ve been thinking about how to respond, but sometimes it's hard to get it out into words.

It makes me so happy that my biggest interests make others interested in it too. Heck, when people ask questions, I get all giddy!

Talking about biblical/christian saints, greek myths, history, different cultural views and changes was kind of the whole point of why I started this tumblr blog. I have so many drafts filled with random info about LGBTQ+ saints..... Now… I post mostly thirsty drawings of greek gods with hairy chests... T.T

And I sympathize a lot when it comes to religious trauma. I consider myself lucky in these matters, my mom is Catholic, and she has her views that I don’t agree with and hurtful. Yet she still supports me in her way and watching my bible retelling animatics, everytime I post a new bible animatic, she writes me: "What have you done to Daniel..."

I also have my hurts and anger towards hypocrisies too, and I guess this is my way of countering that?

LGBT content in the Bible is something that really fascinates me. I think it's important to keep in mind that people from about 2,500 years ago had very different views when it came to gender and sex compared to how we see it today. In a way, the Bible does have strict social gender expectations, and if you didn’t fit in, then you weren’t considered part of that gender. But at the same time, it acknowledges that your sex. I think it’s in the Talmud were it discusses the fact that, throughout the Bible, there were about eight genders:

Zachar: male.

Nekevah: female.

Androgynos: having both male and female characteristics.

Tumtum: lacking sexual characteristics.

Aylonit hamah: identified as female at birth but later naturally developed male characteristics.

Aylonit adam: identified as female at birth but later developed male characteristics through human intervention.

Saris hamah: identified as male at birth but later naturally developed female characteristics.

Saris adam: identified as male at birth but later developed female characteristics through human intervention.

Some scholars even believe that Abraham and Sarah were Tumtum. A Tumtum is not considered to be very distinct but rather flexible between male and female sex/gender—"sometimes he is a man, and sometimes he is a woman." The simple fact that God said Abraham had a womb and from it, he would have children. Some say that this is why he is a Tumtum, while some historical linguists argue that ancient Hebrew didn’t have the vocabulary for male genitalia yet. Both arguments are valid, and I like them both!

There’s tons of stuff I could bring up—Joseph with his princess dress, Naomi and Ruth, David and Jonathan, and the discussions around whether Daniel was a Saris Hamah or a Saris Adam. We know he was called a saris, but we’re just not sure which. And then there's Jael, whose story is filled with a lot of phallic symbolism, and even her name is very gender-neutral.

I think I’m going to end here. I could yap about these things forever! But thank you again taking your time writing to me and I hope you also have a nice day! <3

#asks #bible #ancient queer history

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ak319 · 2 months ago

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Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

《Beloved's Veil》

(Warnings: will have themes like possession/horror and abuse) This story will have more than two parts, so enjoy🌼

"Do you like it this far, Ma'am? The village?" Odai’s voice cut through the soft hum of the engine, drawing your gaze to the rearview mirror where his eyes met yours.

"Yes, it’s quite peaceful. I've never lived in a village before."

"You’ll love it, Ma’am. It’s indeed peaceful, which is good for someone like you who enjoys working in a calm environment. The beauty here adds more to the experience." He smiled, his eyes glinting with nostalgia. "This is my second time here. I once drove the Commissioner on a visit. The people are kind too."

"Mhm." You nodded thoughtfully as Odai slowed the car down on a narrow street. Your eyes wandered, taking in the surroundings--quaint homes with old wooden doors, vibrant rugs hung on balconies, and villagers watching the car with curious eyes. "But even the smallest villages have their dark sides. Crime, hardship--they exist everywhere."

"Indeed, ma'am." Odai's voice took on a more serious edge. "I kept news of your arrival under wraps, which is why no one's gathering around our cars." You glanced back at the security vehicle trailing behind, steady and unobtrusive.

"Good," you mused, lighting a cigarette, the flicker of the flame momentarily catching your gaze. "Maybe they are not happy to get a new DC so soon." You chuckled softly, exhaling smoke into the still air. "And what about the other task I gave you? Judging by those wary glances, it might be working."

"Yes, ma'am. I handled it." You'd instructed Odai to spread rumors before your arrival, whispers about your uncompromising nature--how you were a stickler for the law, an officer with unshakeable honesty. It was a strategy you'd wanted to test, a way to plant seeds before even setting foot in Al Razeh. Spread your roots before you even step into the territory, you thought with quiet satisfaction, watching the smoke curl and dissipate into the air, like invisible tendrils laying claim to the village before you.

You, (Y/n), had just been appointed as the Deputy Commissioner, DC, of a district called Kamandik, and your new office--and residence--was nestled in the village of Al-Razeh. It was a quiet place, far from the hustle of the city, a change you welcomed after the long, exhausting journey. Coming from a distinguished family, it almost seemed like destiny had led you to this path. Your lineage boasted army officers, doctors, and civil servants. Your father, a retired military man, had served with distinction, and your mother, an army doctor, had met him through her service. It was that kind of background that had built your discipline and drive.

"Is the Assistant Commissioner going to be there?" you asked, gazing out at the unfamiliar landscape as you approached.

"He will arrive tomorrow, ma'am. His flight got cancelled for today." Odai replied.

Good. You felt a sense of relief. One less formality for today. You leaned back into the seat, letting the exhaustion sink in, already imagining the stillness of your new residence awaiting you.

═════ ◈ ═════

"But I want you to work with me, my son," the old man said, his shivering hands reaching out as his weak, but soft gaze fell upon his youngest. Habib--the kindest, gentlest, and most beautiful of his sons--stood there, looking down at his father. His pale green eyes and thin, golden locks were a wonder, something the village marveled at since his birth. His father, prayed each day that God would grant his son a life as beautiful as he appeared, for Habib had known nothing but pain because of this beauty--this curse.

"Baba, you know they don’t want me to," Habib began, his voice barely a whisper, catching in his throat before it could fully form. The familiar heaviness of his situation silenced him completely as soon as his oldest brother, Basim, strode into the room with an air of command.

"Baba, how many times must we go through this?" Basim’s voice cut through the room like a blade. "I told you--he is not working, and that’s final!"

"He is going to work in the store I go to! With me! He has to do something."

"Him? Are you serious? " Kadir despite being not having the desired strength at the moment stood up from the bed and Habib immediately supported him, his own eyes casted down in his brother's presence.

"Basim, you seem to forget that I am still alive," Kadir said, his voice low but firm, "and I am very much capable of making decisions for this house. Do you hear me?" His words hung in the air, heavy with authority, and Basim, eyes flickering between his father and younger brother, clenched his jaw before storming out of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Habib finally exhaled the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Don’t be afraid, son," Kadir soothed, resting a reassuring hand on his son's cheek. "I’m here for you. I will always be."

Habib nodded, pressing his lips softly to his father’s weathered fingers. "Just follow what I tell you in the shop," Kadir continued, "and you’ll learn the work in no time."

Outwardly, the Jafaris appeared to be a humble, respectable family--Kadir himself was a respected elder in the community, with his two eldest sons already married. But beneath the surface, the Jafaris were infamous. And though it seemed like many things, perhaps the real reason for the rumors that clung to them like shadows was just one thing--Habib.

Habib woke with a start, his heart pounding as he scanned his dimly lit bedroom. The narrow terrace window was open, a detail he couldn't remember opening himself. No, wait, he had opened it earlier, hadn't he? The memory was foggy. He looked down at the book in his lap, the dim light from the terrace lamp casting strange shadows around the room. Quickly, he turned on the side lamp, its bright light offering a small sense of relief.

He ran his fingers over the pages of The Book of Kings. The words seemed to mirror his own sorrow: “On my heart, this pain and sorrow are so abundant, in mourning for you, the assault on my anxious heart is endless. O heart, you are with me, but you constantly mourn the lost beloved. Every day, we remember you, and at night, we weep for your love, as if my heart cannot reach any solace from your absence and this pain has no remedy.”

Indeed, there seemed to be no remedy. The ache and torment felt as fresh and unyielding as if it had happened just yesterday.

His footsteps were light as he stepped out of his chamber, and with a whispered prayer, he made his way to the kitchen. It was 10 p.m., and most people had gone to bed by 9. He had missed dinner once again. The worried faces of his parents flashed through his mind, contrasting sharply with the indifferent expressions of his brothers.

As he approached the dishes stacked in a corner--likely left there by his mother--he began to prepare his plate. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, signaling someone's presence behind him.

'No, please-'

The words of the cleric, Nazim, echoed in his mind: “Remember, my boy, never be afraid of anything, for these things feed on fear.” Despite the reminder, he remained paralyzed, his fear not only of the unknown but also of the possibility that it might be Basim, who wasn’t pleased with what Father had said earlier.

The plate in his hand nearly dropped when the person touched him. "God!--Uncle, it’s me, it’s me, Rahim. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...""

"It’s alright, Rahim." The teenager, Rahim, was the son of Basim, his oldest nephew, and also his best friend. "Why are you awake?"

Rahim smirked and leaned against the counter. "Just couldn’t sleep," his playful demeanor shifted to concern as he took in his young uncle’s appearance. "Uncle... were you sick again?"

"I’m always sick, nothing to worry about."

"You should take better care of yourself. I worry about you. And..." Rahim hesitated, "I doubt that--"

"Rahim, I’m fine. And no, it’s gone. Long gone. Believe me. I’m just... going through some side effects."

"Wow, all that pain and now side effects too, even when you’re free from it? It’s been years! You should see an actual doctor." Rahim was just a toddler when his uncle was afflicted in a way he never imagined possible. Yet, he remembered it all like a vivid nightmare.

"Rahim, please. I am fine," Habib reassured, his voice soft but firm, trying to mask the lingering shadows of his past.

The boy decided to drop the topic for now with an unconvinced sigh. "I brought those pastries you love."

"Why?! You know Brother Basim--"

"Uncle, please. It’s my pocket money, and I get to buy whatever I want for whoever I want." Rahim smiled, and Habib couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound light and comforting in the quiet of the kitchen.

Rahim’s grin widened. He always loved seeing his uncle, who was more like an older brother to him, happy. "Shall I make tea?"

"No, I'll make it. I don't want you waking the whole house."

The two chatted softly, the kitchen door closed to keep their voices from carrying. Basim would be furious if he knew they were up.

"Oh, how could I forget to tell you! When me and my friends were playing, we saw the new DC’s car. She’s here. And from what we’ve heard, she’s very upright and strict too. Which I think is a good thing, considering the previous one was lousy as hell."

"We’ve never had a female DC before, have we?" Habib wondered aloud, trying to recall if he had ever seen any officer around or remembered the last DC’s name.

"Um, no. And do you know her bungalow walls are so high, you can’t see past them! Imagine how cool it must be from the inside. Plus, all the cameras and stuff, which I heard they’re going to put around the village too."

"Mhm, nice." Habib nodded, his smile fading slightly as he sipped his tea. The conversation about the new DC and the changes in the village did little to distract him from the quiet sadness that lingered in his heart.

Part II

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1arkspur-aconitum · 1 month ago

Text

SOULS OF POETS (s.r.)

SOULS OF POETS DEAD AND GONE, WHAT ELYSIUM HAVE YOU KNOWN?

[PART ONE OF THREE]

IN WHICH: Spencer discovers more about Juniper’s previous work history, and it is not to his taste.

PAIRING: Season3!Spencer Reid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: angst

CONTENT: strip-clubs, common BAU violence, the team being little shits, established secret relationship, Spencer being mean, not a happy ending (in this part at least)

WORD COUNT: 8k… (I got a bit carried away)

PUBLISHED: 16/10/24

TO SAY THIS ISN’T HOW I was expecting today to go would be an understatement.

Sure, we end up on some of the most bizarre cases in the FBI, but the chances of this happening are slim to none—I am not Dr. Reid, so I am unable to give you an exact statistic, but I reckon it would be in the 1:1 bajillion ballpark.

Normally the cases are bizarre because of M.O., or because the people we deal with are strange; I still remember that one interview Emily and I had with that frankly absurd woman with way too many garden gnomes inside her house. Or the time Derek and I found a dude in his bath, stark naked, the tub filled with what I have told myself was milk, and have refused to ponder any other possibilities since.

All that to say, we get weird shit at the BAU.

Yet when I walked in this morning and saw the photos, and read the case file, I was more nervous for this than I had been for any bomb or kidnapping case.

To the others, it looks perfectly average. Localised crime scene, moderately high-risk victims, a clear comfort zone. New York City isn’t far from D.C and we have a good relationship with the police working on the case already. Seems simple enough.

But even as I sit on the plane, knees up to my chest, I still feel as if I can’t take a proper breath. As I try to force myself to take one, I catch Emily’s concerned glance from across the aisle. She knows me too well.

I clear my throat and force myself to adjust. Dropping my knees underneath the table, I spread the photos across the table in front of me. Women’s bodies–hands and feet removed–shoved into the bins out the back of a strip of clubs ranging from gay bars, to strip joints, to your average night-out with the girls club.

Shoved into bins. Nothing better than rubbish.

To my left, Spencer is busy pouring over a map of the NYC suburbs. He’s armed with his favourite set of coloured pens, slender fingers idly tapping the lid on his chin as he thinks it over. Spencer, as always, looks adorable. Messy hair, loose tie, those cheekbones–the little furrow he gets between his eyebrows when he’s thinking. With his lips parted in focus, I can’t help but let my knee press against his under the table.

He smiles privately, not once looking up from his map. It’s the only concession to tenderness he’ll give me at work. The only one he can whilst we’re keeping our relationship hidden from the team.

‘So, when we land, I want us to hit the ground running,’ Hotch announces, drawing all of our attention to him. He looks at us gravely in turn. ‘We have to handle this one with tact, especially considering the subject matter–JJ and Rossi, I want you guys to head to the police station and help us get set up.’

‘That should be fun.’ Rossi says without a trace of humour in his tone. ‘The local police always get antsy about us treating these cases like they’re important–’

‘They are important.’ The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, sounding a lot harsher than I originally intended. Rossi stops mid sentence. All eyes turn to me. Flushing, I pick at my fingernails as Spencer jostles my knee gently. ‘I’m sorry. It just pisses me off that people treat them like they aren’t.’

‘I know that, but the local police don't always.’ Rossi reminds me gently, flashing me the palms of his hands. A classic sign of apology. I incline my head and don’t say anything else. Emily is still watching me from across the aisle with those perceptive eyes of hers. ‘So JJ and I will do our best to get them on board.’

‘The rest of us are going to head to the main club that’s been targeted,’ Hotch has an air of disapproval in his tone, sending me a quick glare to remind me that I am the source of his anger. I sink lower into my seat, biting my lips shut. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. ‘See what we can find out about the place, the locals.’

‘Are you okay?’ Spencer murmurs to me under his breath a few moments later. The rest of the team have devolved back into their previous conversations, so the sweetness in his voice isn’t as easily detected. He is looking at me with those annoyingly perceptive, wide brown eyes. It’s like he’s peering deep into my skin and I don’t like it.

‘What? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?’ I close myself off, folding my arms and trying to work some of the tension out of my jaw. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not Spencer’s fault, and even genius Spencer Reid doesn’t have all of the pieces to finally puzzle this together.

‘I don’t know…is it because we’re going to New York City?’

‘What’s made you think I don’t like New York?’

‘Well…I know you lived there for a while after you dropped out of Cornell–’

‘I took a break from Cornell, I went back eventually.’ I scowl at him, brushing some loose strands of hair away from my face. Spencer quirks his eyebrows but I can tell he’s laughing internally at me. ‘I completed that degree, thank you very much. I just…’

‘You just what?’ He bumps his warm shoulder gently against mine.

‘This case…’ I pick up a picture of one of the bins–the woman inside has her legs spread, blood crusted around where her feet used to be, the short skirt she was wearing shoved up around her hips. She seems so painfully familiar. ‘There’s something…there’s something personal about it.’

The next time I look at Spencer, his lips are slightly pursed, eyes narrowed. If I were to lean in, I’m ninety percent sure that I could hear the cogs in his brain working. The idea of Spencer finding out concerns me more than I want it to. Rechecking my microexpressions, I plaster on a mildly bored smile. He doesn’t believe it. I can tell immediately. Yet he still can’t put a pin on why I’m lying.

‘I feel bad,’ I say, doing my best to pace the words to a steady, ordinary beat. ‘These women are as deserving of respect as anyone else, and yet somehow they always end up being the ones covered in rubbish.’

Spencer nods slowly, apparently satisfied with this, but the narrowness to his usually wide eyes doesn’t fully lift. I can tell that I have not heard the last of this. Spencer Reid is nothing if not persistent–at least he won’t have to wait long to find out, because I know that as soon as we get off the plane, I’m on a deadline. An hourglass with only a teaspoon of sand left.

I lean back into the seat and wait to meet my terrible fate.

Elysium is everything you would expect from a strip-club.

Bleak and unassuming exterior, with one door manned by a beefy looking security guard, and several cameras aimed at the entrance. Inside it’s dark and seedy, the walls painted black to better enhance the vibrant colours of the strobe lights. They pulse in time to the music; a classic pop song I recognise, pumped through massive speakers at an almost deafening volume. The beat is so nostalgic I resist the urge to tap my foot.

We step into the main room and my heart stammers. It’s still laid out the same–a big raised platform at the back of the room with three poles, two currently in use. The women curve around the silver poles, the low lights slicking off of their curves. There’s a catwalk down the centre with a few loose notes blanketing it like leaves. The door to the right with the big neon ‘PRIVATE’ sign above it sits resolutely locked. The extensive bar has several scantily dressed women lean against it, talking to the patrons. It’s so familiar that I am suddenly twenty one again, walking into this place for the first time.

‘Can I help you?’ A voice says and I drag my attention from the bar.

The lady talking to Hotch hasn’t changed either. She’s still got that impossibly divine smooth skin, but she’s swapped the belly button piercing since I last saw her. It’s now a golden teardrop embellished in green that swings as she moves. Long dreads hang down to her waist and she’s dressed in the little gold number she always saved for big payouts. She must be planning on scoring high tonight. Despite myself, I let my face split into a broad smile.

‘Yes, actually could–’ Hotch starts, pointedly looking at her face rather than the rest of her body. Spencer is trying not to look at her breasts and failing–and I don’t think Derek even makes the attempt to be discreet. He’s like a kid in a sweet shop. The woman lifts her hand to silence him, brown eyes settling onto mine.

‘No fucking way.’ Tia takes two steps towards me, vibrant eyes scouring my figure. The last time she saw me, I would have been caught dead in a pair of suit trousers and a button down, yet here I am. I flare my arms away from my body, as if to say ‘yes way’. ‘June–Junebug!’

‘Hi, Tia.’ I laugh as she throws herself at me. Her strong arms wrap around my shoulders and she presses her body tightly against mine. The team is openly ogling at me as the stripper gives me the biggest, friendliest hug ever. I don’t look at them, though, face buried in her neck. She smells like cigarette smoke and vetiver perfume. ‘I’m afraid this isn’t a friendly visit.’

‘Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.’ Tia grins, gesturing at the gun holstered at my hip before she grabs me again. When she speaks next, she shakes me to punctuate each word. ‘Ugh, I’m so glad to see you! You don’t visit us enough, and you said you would.’

‘I know, T, I’m sorry.’ I extricate myself from her arms, wincing awkwardly at my team. I feel very exposed. There will be time for explanations later, though, and right now I’m busy basking in the warmth of an old friend. She’s right. I haven’t visited nearly as often as I said I would. Regret seeps through my pores. ‘We’re here to ask some questions about the murders that have been going on?’

‘Oh, of course.’ Tia immediately loses the air of excitement, brow furrowing. She inspects the team as a whole again, noting the way they’re looking between us with a curious air. When she looks back at me, she raises a quizzical brow. I shake my head–explanations later. Tia, ever the saint, doesn’t push the issue. ‘Come on, do you want to head to the back office? I’ll get some of the girls together but Harold is already in there, waiting to talk to you.’

‘Harold still works here?’ I blink, surprised.

‘Yeah, he does–his hip is bothering him more now, but he’s still kickin’,’ Tia loops her arm through mine and starts to lead me through the strip club. I can hear the sounds of my team whispering behind me as they fall into line, but I pointedly ignore them. Nosy buggers. ‘You would know that if you came to visit.’

‘I already feel guilty about it,’ I knock her with my elbow. ‘No need to make me feel worse.’

‘I’m just glad you’re here now.’ Tia presses a sticky, lip gloss kiss to my cheek as we stop by another inconsequential door. It’s been painted black to match the walls, designed to be unobserved by the patrons. The amount of secret spaces in this place is unprecedented, rat runs sprawling through the bowls of Elysium. It took me months to learn where all the nooks and crannies were. I scowl petulantly. ‘You remember where you’re going?’

‘Of course, I mean, how could I forget?’ I flash her my cheekiest of grins.

I cross my arms as I wait for the team to catch up with us, leaning back against the wall.

Derek is currently casually flirting with one of the barmaids–someone I do not recognise–which doesn’t surprise me. Hotch is scouring the layout of the place, pointedly avoiding looking at the half-naked women gyrating around poles, or meandering around laps.

Emily has that shit-eating grin on her face, striding towards me and Tia, and Spencer is staring down at his hands as he follows in Emily’s wake.

Thinking about it, I wonder if Spencer has ever even stepped foot in a strip club before. It doesn’t seem like his kind of vibe, but you never know. Spencer is always full of surprises.

‘I’m gonna get Jas, she’ll die when she sees you.’ Tia grins as Emily arrives, bouncing off into the crowd. Tia has always been my favourite; she was the one who took me under her wing when I first arrived at Elysium, who gave me a place to stay when I didn’t have anywhere. The fact that she’s still here hurts my heart like a bruise. We always said we’d get out together.

‘You, ma’am, have a lot of explaining to do.’ Emily grins at me when she gets within earshot, grabbing my elbow. She loves this.

‘There isn’t much to explain,’ I try, but then Derek appears on my other side and I know I am done for. ‘Seriously.’

‘What, so you’re just casually friends with strippers?’

‘What’s wrong with being friends with strippers?’ I retort, turning pleading eyes to Spencer.

Spencer Reid looks as uncomfortable as possible–his shoulders are tense, hand to his lips, that slight frown between his eyebrows. He’s physically trying to make himself smaller by curving his shoulders inwards. Whenever someone nearly naked walks past him, he deliberately makes a lot of space. If his eyeline drifts for more than a few seconds, he’s instantly staring down at his feet again, cheeks blazing red hot. When he meets my gaze, though, he cannot hide the subtle hint of interest. It becomes clear that Spencer is not the person I should look to for help.

Balls.

‘Hey, you know I’m not complaining–’

‘Shut up, Derek, you’re just salty because she kissed me.’ I shove him in the chest, realising I’m not going to get any help from anyone involved. I’m on my own. Turning away from them, I rap on the door. ‘I can feel your stupid grin, Morgan–and yours too, Prentiss.’

‘Ooo, the last names, someone means business.’ Emily teases, but a voice from inside the room invites us in, and I take this as my saving grace.

I open the door to the small back office, holding it wide with my foot so the rest of my team can trickle in. The office is relatively small, lined with filing cabinets, and manned by a desk covered in papers and an overflowing ashtray. Someone has replaced the wooden chairs with two comfier looking arm chairs, though they still look slightly weathered in the dim light. The ceiling fan above is still laden with cobwebs and dust, perpetually unused. Yet another thing that hasn’t changed.

Once the door is shut behind us, I turn my attention to the man sitting behind the desk.

‘June?’ Harold spots me first, his Texan voice thickened by tar and smoke. He has more wrinkles around his eyes now, but the smile is as blinding as the last time I saw it. Harold’s beard is streaked with white, and when he pushes himself to his feet, the silver cane is new, too. ‘Junebug? Is that really you?’

‘Alive and in the flesh.’ I smile, reaching out to hug him as he hobbles towards me. Harold was the one who gave me that moniker barely two days after I started working here. There’s something about the way he says it that doesn’t make me feel like he’s being condescending–in fact, it just reminds me that someone loves me enough to say a nickname with such adoration. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tightly. I try not to focus on how he feels thinner underneath me.

‘So,’ Harold says, stepping away from me but not letting go of my waist–I don’t know if it’s for support or just for show. I don’t really mind either way. He inspects the rest of my team, who are standing awkwardly around. None of them can hide the thinly veiled amusement from their faces, nor the bright curiosity. ‘These your friends?’

‘Yup.’ I nod, not meeting any of their eyes. There’s too much going on right now. Shame is a powerful emotion and even though I know I shouldn’t feel it, I can’t exactly control my own brain. ‘Uh, SSA Hotchner, Prentiss, and Morgan–and that’s Dr. Reid looking uncomfortable in the corner. We’re with the FBI.’

‘The FBI huh?’ Harold affixes me with that appraising stare before pushing away from me. I follow him, keeping my arm out for support. He plops himself down in his chair and leans back. Waggles his cane at me. ‘I never thought one of my best dancers would make it up into the big leagues like that. Good on you, Junebug.’

And there it is.

It takes Spencer about three seconds to process that information. About two times faster than it does for anyone else in the room. I can see the realisation burning red hot behind his brown eyes when he jerks them to me. I can’t hide my expression quickly enough–my blink is all he needs to confirm what Harold said. Spencer’s eyes cloud for a second, lips parted.

When he cocks his head curiously, I can tell exactly what he’s thinking. What he’s imagining in that brain of his. What a little shit. When his eyes focus again, he sees my look of disapproval and flushes. Then, his expression changes–closes off. Becomes unreadable. It’s an annoying talent he has and one of the most frustrating things about him.

‘Thanks, H.’ I clear my throat, ignoring the mercilessly gleeful grin on Emily’s face. ‘Guys, this is Harold, he’s the manager here–if something happened, Harold is the one who’s most likely to know about it.’

‘You were a stripper?’ Derek blurts out. Of course he would be the one to ask first. It just encourages Emily, though. Soon enough, both of them are peppering me with questions like they’re rubber bullets.

‘How long did you work here?’

‘Yeah–were you good?’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘Do you still dance?’

‘Was she good?’ Derek directs this last question to Harold, evidently not satisfied with my silence.

‘Jesus Christ, guys, it’s not exactly relevant, is it?’ I snap, feeling a familiar burn of anger and shame. Spencer has remained, thankfully, silent, but is watching me with that blank expression. It’s unsettling. ‘Can we focus? I’ll answer your questions later, we’re here about several murders, let’s not get distracted by the fact that I used to be a stripper.’

‘You ain’t told ‘em till just now?’ Harold says from his seat, voice tinged with amusement and something that strikes me too much as sorrow. When I look at him, he’s surprisingly sad. It hurts me right in the centre of my chest. ‘I can understand that. There ain’t any shame in it, though, Junebug. You loved it here. Sure, you were at rock-bottom, but e’ryone who comes here is. It’s an absolute joy to see you doin’ somethin’ fulfillin’.’

‘Stop it, Harold,’ I say, the words choked somewhere in the back of my throat. A tingling sensation behind my nose threatens to make me sob. His words carve away at something within me, a part of me I haven’t thought about since…well, since I left Elysium. Avoiding looking at the others, I step around to the withered old man. Rest my hand on his shoulder. The next words are a breath of sadness. ‘Thank you.’

He understands that that’s not just for his words today. It’s for everything.

Harold gives me that sad smile again and rests his own hand on top of mine. It’s a connection I haven’t had in a while–Harold always reminded me of my father. Seeing him again is like seeing the ghost of my dad. I can’t afford to break down in front of the others, not when we’re here for a job, so blink furiously at the silver lining around my eyes. I plaster a smile on.

‘Bishop,’ Hotch says, voice low and measured. His words are not unkind and he is the only one out of the entire team that does not look disturbed, surprised, or horrified. Realistically, Hotch probably already knew this about me. I imagine it’s on my file somewhere. ‘If you need to go to the police station, you can. We can handle the questions here.’

‘It’s alright,’ I say, taking a deep breath and schooling my features. I do my best to forget where I am, who I am with–I try to become Dr. Bishop, the FBI agent working on a case that she has no personal connection to. ‘I can do it. Besides, I think Tia might kill me if I leave before she can accost me again.’

‘Alright, then.’ Hotch nods briskly, and the questioning begins.

Hotch leads it, as usual, Derek and Emily still staring at me with those aghast expressions. I don’t care about them, though. Whilst Hotch and Harold discuss the recent murders (three of the girls had been new dancers at Elysium, some of them regulars) and if Harold saw anything suspicious (a few odd cars, but most people who come here are unusual or strange), I keep my eyes trained on Spencer. I want to see what his reaction is, to gauge if I should start thinking about damage control.

He’s busy scouring the room, taking at each of the pictures on the wall. They're all of the dancers Harold has employed. I’m up there somewhere. I wonder if that’s what Spencer is looking for. He stands with one arm across his lower stomach, the other brought up to his chest. Long fingers rub the sharpness of his jaw idly. His eyes work furiously across the walls, committing everything to memory.

Spencer has always been good at disguising his microexpressions, so I doubt that I can ever truly work out what he is thinking from just observing him. The blankness hasn’t gone from him.

I hope he’s relaxed, though, and not severely freaked out. I have no idea what I would do if he was severely freaked out.

‘Hey, Junebug!’ Tia’s melodic voice cuts through my panic crisis-prepping brain fog as she steps into the room, making Spencer jump. I turn to look and see that my gorgeous friend is dragging yet another gorgeous friend into the office. The other girl is tall, willowy, with ice-blonde hair that she’s been carefully maintaining since I knew her. She is wearing a pair of thigh-high blue boots and the tiniest lingerie set I have ever seen. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, this one was a nightmare to find.’

‘It’s true!’ Jas squeaks, her eyes widening as she lays them on me. I barely have enough time to process her being there before she launches herself at me. Despite the fact that she is all bone, Jas is surprisingly strong, and squeezes her arms around my neck. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long, what the fuck, June, where have you been?!’

‘Whoa, there, Jas,’ Tia chuckles, gripping Jas by the shoulders and extricating her from me. Grateful, I rub the spot where Jas’s acrylic nails dug into my skin. ‘Give her some breathing space. She’s with the FBI, silly, didn’t you hear me say that?’

‘You’re such a bitch.’ Jas scowls at me as she shakes Tia off, and hits me hard in the upper arm. I yelp in pain, staring at her with an affronted look. She pats the spot where she hit me apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, I just missed you.’

‘No need to get violent.’ I remind her, turning her around to face the rest of my team. ‘We’re here to ask you some questions about the recent murders?’

‘FBI?’ Jas scans my team, her eyes widening as they sweep over each member. Her gaze lingers on Spencer, and I can see the familiar glint of interest sparking in her eyes. She lets out a long, low, appreciative whistle that seems to echo around the small office. I can tell immediately what’s going through her mind, and I brace myself for what is about to happen. Jas angles her head like a cat watching a bird. Her posture shifts. ‘Well, hello there. Aren’t you the most handsome man I’ve ever seen?’

Spencer’s reaction is immediate and intense. His face flushes a deep crimson, the blush spreading down underneath his collar when he realises that she is talking to him. His eyes, wide with surprise and discomfort, immediately lock desperately on me. The way he shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, is so endearingly awkward that I can’t help but find it utterly adorable.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I watch Jas saunter seductively towards him, hips swaying with each step.

‘Jasmine,’ I interject, my voice is thick with warning, hoping that that hides the jealousy I’m feeling as she begins to circle Spencer like a shark. She trails a hand across the back of his shoulders and I have to resist the urge to physically remove it. Only I am allowed to touch Spencer like that. ‘Behave, please. That’s my colleague.’

What I really want to say is ‘that’s my boyfriend you’re pawing at’, but I can’t. Not when the team is standing right there, watching with varying degrees of amusement. The secret aspect of our relationship hasn’t bothered me as much as it does right now. I don’t know what to do.

‘Oh, come on, Junebug, you’ve never been a prude.’ Jas flashes me a familiar, mischievous grin as she casually straightens Spencer’s collar from behind, her nails scraping across his shirt. I know that expression–I’ve seen it on her several times before she scores a big payout, and Jas always scores big. Bitter jealousy twists in the base of my stomach. ‘If I remember correctly, you would have been all over this one a few years ago. Let me have my fun. What’s your name, handsome?’

‘I–I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.’ He stammers, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he finds the ceiling very interesting. I can practically feel the heat radiating from him. Part of me wants to intervene, to yank her away from him and put an end to this little performance. But another part, a part I am decidedly not proud of, wants to see what Spencer will do. It’s a test of sorts, though I am not sure what I am testing or why.

‘Dr. Spencer Reid.’ Jas purrs, drawing out each syllable as if it’s fine wine. She completes her predatory circle to stand in front of Spencer, giving me an excellent view of her pert behind. It’s not exactly hidden in the thong she’s donned. She twists a stray strand of his hair around her finger. Spencer flinches away from her touch, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. I want to tell her to back off but Derek’s amused expression stops me. ‘A doctor–you’ve always loved a man with brains, Junebug. So, Spencer, what brings you to Elysium? Looking for some extracurricular studies?’

‘We–we’re here about the, the recent murders…’ Spencer chokes out, his voice strained and higher than usual. He’s still staring resolutely at the ceiling, as if trying to solve some complicated mathematical equation etched into the plaster.

‘Yes, we are.’ Hotch cuts in, his voice taking on a sharp and authoritative tone. He places a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder, effectively creating a barrier between him and Jasmine. I feel a rush of gratitude towards my Unit Chief for doing what I could not. ‘We’re hoping you could help us by answering some questions, not by accosting a Federal Agent.’

‘I suppose.’ Jas pouts dramatically, but there is a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She knows she’s pushed the boundaries a little bit too far. Her shoulders slump in defeat, but she turns back to Spencer. ‘I guess I can behave. But only if the good doctor here promises to buy me a drink. What do you say, gorgeous? Care to hear some stories about our Junebug’s wilder days?’

‘I will buy you that drink, Jasmine.’ I interject quickly, my words coming out harsher than intended. My hand shoots out, curling around her upper arm as I tug her a few steps away from Spencer. I fix her with a stern look, eyebrow raised in silent warning. ‘Leave Spencer alone.’

‘Fine, June, you absolute spoil sport.’ She hisses at me, but there’s no real venom in her tone. If anything, there’s a hint of amusement, as if she’s enjoying this power play. It wouldn’t surprise me. ‘Why don’t all of us go out for a drink, then, if I can’t have Spencer by himself?’

‘Can we focus, please?’ I sigh, not liking the way both Emily and Derek have perked up upon hearing the possibility of getting the juicy information about my ‘wilder days’ as Jasmine so kindly phrased it. ‘We are here on official business–we can gossip later, alright?’

‘Alright, alright, message received.’ Jas rolls her eyes but finally relents. She sits down on Harold’s desk, looking expectantly up at us. ‘Ask away.’

‘Don’t think you can escape, Juniper Bishop.’

Balls.

I turn around sheepishly, one hand on the door to my hotel room. I was so close. If I hadn’t stopped to stock up on snacks, I might have escaped, might have managed to prolong the inevitable until I felt ready to face it. That’s the unfortunate thing about the inevitable, though. It always comes around eventually.

There, standing at the end of the corridor, are Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and JJ. I only need to take one look at the blonde to realise that they have already dobbed me in, and have caught her up to speed about what happened at Elysium. They stand there like hunters spotting prey and knowing it has nowhere else to run.

‘Seriously, guys? Now?’ I sigh, leaning against the doorframe and readjusting the snacks in my arms–the vending machine was limited, but it had Oreos, and that’s good enough for me. Hair falls into my face as I hang my head. ‘I was just gonna watch a film and go to sleep…’

‘Not happening.’ Emily announces, striding over to me and grabbing my upper arm. ‘We’re going to the bar.’

‘The bar?’ I say, dragging my feet but letting her lead me over to the others. I don’t like the way they are looking at me. I feel like a student being dragged to the headmaster’s office for a scolding. ‘We haven’t solved the case yet, surely it’s a bad idea to drink on the job?’

‘Then order a soda.’ JJ grips my other arm and they frog march me towards the top of the stairs.

‘Guys.’ I whine, trying to dig my heels into the plush carpet, and failing spectacularly. It’s no use. I am dragged rather roughly down the stairs and towards the hotel bar, my protests falling on deaf ears. ‘Come on, this is ridiculous–’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Spencer, save me!’ I call, looking over my shoulder to spot my handsome boyfriend by the lift, his head angled curiously as he witnesses what is essentially my death march. JJ and Emily take no prisoners, though, and continue to haul me towards the bar.

‘We’re just gonna ask her some questions, that’s all.’ Derek says, talking to Spencer as if he’s just found out that I am a suspect in a gruesome murder. Spencer blinks, confused, and starts to trail after us. ‘Care to join?’

When we reach the bar, I am deposited unceremoniously into a booth, being wedged in by Emily and opposed by JJ. Derek and Spencer don’t take long to join us, the former drifting off towards the bar with a firm warning not to start without him. The latter sits down beside JJ. I glare at them, arms folded across my chest, Oreos abandoned on the table.

‘You brought this upon yourself, you know.’ Emily says, all high and mighty. She rests her elbows on the bar and cocks her head at me. ‘I mean, I knew there was something…different about you, but this? This is not what I was expecting.’

‘Oh my God.’ I groan, staring down at the table rather than at their three pairs of inquisitorial eyes. Spencer’s gaze is the hardest one to avoid and the worst one to meet. He’s guarded his expression so I can’t fully read it, but judging from the way he has his arms crossed, he isn’t going to come to my rescue. Evidently he’s just as curious as the rest of them. ‘Was all this really necessary?’

‘You were the one trying to hole up in your room.’ JJ says with a casual shrug, glancing over to where Derek is paying for a selection of drinks. ‘Forgive us for trying to get to the bottom of this.’

‘There isn’t anything to get to the bottom of!’ I say, voice rising in volume and in pitch. ‘I think you guys are making this out to be worse than it actually is.’

‘Aw, come on, hotstuff, we’re just curious.’ Derek says, putting down a circular black tray in the middle of the table. He divvies off the drinks, placing what suspiciously looks like a G&T in front of me. Despite my earlier reluctance to imbibe, I’m kind of grateful. I might need alcohol to get through this. Once he’s done, he pulls up a stool and heads the table. ‘Can you blame us?’

‘Yes.’ I retort, slumping back in my seat and scowling. ‘Fine. Fine. Ask away.’

‘How come you never told us you used to be a stripper?!’ Emily cuts right to the chase, leaning forward even further. If her eyes could get any wider, they would. She resembles one of those weird marsupials with the long fingers that tap on trees to eat the bugs.

‘It…it never came up.’ I shrug, running my finger along the edge of my glass and glancing at Spencer. He’s still utterly unreadable, stirring the ice around his drink with a straw. He’s watching me carefully, probably looking for any microexpressions or tells–fucker knows me too well at this point. Unlike him, I’ve never been good at hiding things. ‘It’s not exactly something you just casually tell people, especially when you now work for the FBI. It’s…frowned upon.’

‘I suppose I can understand that.’ JJ concedes, taking a sip of her drink. ‘When were you working there?’

‘Oh, maybe, like, five, six years ago?’ I copy her movement, letting the gin blaze down my throat. It’s relaxing.

‘So…was this before or after your PhD?’

‘After. I was in the middle of completing another undergrad at Cornell when…well, when I started to dance.’

‘Another undergrad?’ Derek says, apparently more surprised at my academic achievements than the fact that I used to get naked and dance around for money.

‘Yes, Derek, another one.’ I laugh, sipping my drink again and let myself watch Spencer watching me. ‘I was bored after finishing my PhD and felt like doing another degree–it was psychology, which now that I think about it, is kind of ironic.’

‘So…were you dancing to pay off your debt?’ Emily asks, her curiosity piqued. Her bright brown eyes sparkle with intrigue. I’m apparently the most fascinating thing she has seen in quite some time. ‘I mean, degrees are expensive, were you having money problems?’

‘No, it wasn’t the money.’ I confirm, eyes flickering down to trace the pattern of the wood. I have to be careful here, and I have to choose my words with the utmost precision. God, sometimes talking to these guys feels a lot like sitting an exam. ‘It was…well, there were a lot of things going on, and I felt very out of control. I don’t know, I think dancing gave me the control…and the escape…that I needed.’

‘There are other ways to get control.’ Spencer finally speaks, and I almost flinch at the rawness of his words. When I look at him, he’s staring down into his drink. His tone is laced with disapproval. ‘Why…why would you do something like that?’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I have no shame in it.’ I say, somewhat harsher than intended. ‘I loved dancing. It was empowering and freeing, and brought me a lot of joy. But I started it for the wrong reasons, and unfortunately it facilitated habits I really should have been trying to break rather than…well, rather than indulging.’

‘And, according to Harold, you were good. In fact, I think he said you were one of the best.’ Derek grins cheekily at me, eyes roving over my body. I can see Spencer tense out of the corner of my eye at Derek’s words, his shoulders closing inwards. This is dangerous territory.

‘Stop picturing it, Morgan–never gonna happen.’ I flick an ice cube at him, but laugh to show him I am actually teasing.

‘Wait, really?’ Emily sounds genuinely upset, gaping at me. The concept that Emily Prentiss was actually considering asking me to dance for her blows my mind.

‘Oh, come off it, I’m not gonna strip for my coworkers!’

‘Even if I paid you?’ Derek flirts, leaning towards me and flashing me his characteristic wink.

‘Oh, Derek, sweetheart,’ I let the words roll around my tongue, let them drip seductively from my lips. I focus all of my attention onto him as if he were another patron eager for something from Elysium. My eyes trail slowly across his handsome face, lingering on the firm jaw, sticking to his slightly parted mouth. Derek swallows–hard. He leans in just a little bit more. ‘You wouldn’t be able to afford me.’

‘Damn…’ Derek blinks as if clearing his eyes off water. The others (minus Spencer) are laughing at us, and I join in. Derek, to his credit, moves past it with dignity. ‘Worth a shot, eh.’

‘You’re a pig, Morgan,’ JJ steps to my rescue, sneering at our coworker. ‘What would Garcia say if she could hear that?’

‘Hell, she’d probably ask me to split the cost with her.’ Derek winks at me again, but I don’t indulge him this time. I’m watching Spencer, and my heart is sinking.

He hasn’t touched his drink. It just sits in front of him, condensation forming a ring around the bottom. Spencer is staring down into it as if it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. I know that if I looked under the table, his hands are most likely either fiddling with the seam of his slacks, or balled in his lap.

He looks…angry. Hurt. Betrayed, almost. I don’t really blame him. It’s a lot to hear, and I should have told him when he asked me about it on the plane. Spencer doesn’t ask for much, but what he does ask for is transparency. Truth.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. I want to reach out and touch him, apologise for not mentioning it to him, and apologise for the fact that when I am telling him, it’s surrounded by our coworkers. I can’t reassure him in the way that I want.

What I want to do is hold him and kiss him and tell him that none of the past matters now that my future is his. I have never regretted keeping our relationship underwraps–it works for us, especially considering it’s so new, but…but right now, it sucks.

As I continue to watch him adamantly not looking at me, I wonder if I actually do know the reason why I didn’t tell him. Maybe I didn’t tell him because some small part of me didn’t want him looking at me like that. Like I am dirty, or impure, or whatever disgusting words people use for strippers.

‘So, let me get this straight.’ JJ is saying, seeing off the remainders of her drink. ‘You started dancing because you were in a rough patch. That’s fine. What made you stop?’

‘Hah, my mother.’ My laughter is dry, and I take another sip of my drink. ‘She’s very good at being disappointed. She basically sorted me out, sent me off to complete my undergrad. I haven’t danced since.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Sometimes, Em, sometimes.’ I smile at her, trying to squish down any thoughts of Spencer’s upset gaze. ‘I mean, not the sleazy pricks, or the teenagers who don’t know how to listen to boundaries, but I miss my friends–Tia, Jas, Harold–and I miss the freeness of it. If you guys haven’t had some kind of pole class or something, I seriously recommend it.’

‘You could teach us.’ JJ suggests.

I laugh dryly, swilling my drink. ‘You and Emily, sure, but Spencer and Derek on a pole? Could be questionable…’

‘Hey, I’ll have you know I would be a very good stripper!’

‘Whatever you say, Derek.’ I roll my eyes at him but I can’t stop the laughter. I finish off my drink and am very glad that I decided to accept it. Alcohol warms me from the inside. Makes this whole conversation so much easier. ‘So…are you guys satisfied? Can I go to bed–can I eat my Oreos?’

‘No way, Hops, we’re only just getting started.’ Emily grins naughtily at me and gestures for Derek to get another round. Before he can, though, Spencer is already standing and walking away from the table towards the bar without a word. Ouch. It’s clear he’s not very impressed. He hasn’t even finished his drink. ‘We still have so many questions.’

‘Like, did you have a stage name?’

‘What kind of dances did you do? Pole, group, private?’

‘Did you have a signature move?’

‘Do you still have a stripper playlist? If so, can I have it?’

‘Did you ever fall off the pole?’

‘What was the most money you made in one night?’

‘Did you have any regulars? Like, people who came in just to see you?’

‘Did any of them ever try to take you home?’

‘Did you let them?’

‘Oh my God, guys!’ I have to slam my hands on the table to get them to shut up, the words coming in a breathless laugh. I think Derek might have gotten me a double because the alcohol has loosened my tongue and I’m genuinely considering answering them. ‘One question at a time, please.’

It is then that Spencer returns, passing around the drinks quickly. He can’t even look me in the eye as he sits down and goes back to staring into his drink. My mind whirrs with ways to rectify this problem, but it’s not as if I can go back and change the past. Spencer has to come to terms with this on his own merit, and all I can do is wait.

‘Tell us everything.’ Emily gushes, taking a healthy swig of her fresh drink.

‘Everything? Do you think you can handle everything, Spencer?’ I don’t know why I call him out like that. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I chase the icky feeling away with a swig of another double G&T.

Spencer finally looks up, his eyes meeting mine for the first time in what feels like hours. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze–hurt, maybe? Anger? Perhaps even a hint of arousal. I can’t fully tell, and that scares me. Spencer opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Derek interrupts.

‘Hey, Reid, don’t tell me you’re not curious.’ Derek nudges him playfully, but Spencer doesn’t react. He just continues to stare at me, expression unreadable. I have no idea what that look is trying to say. ‘Come on, man, we all wanna hear about Junebug’s wild past.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ I snap, shaking my head at Derek. I don’t know why, but hearing that old nickname on his tongue upsets me. Derek shows me the palms of his hands in apology and I’m pleased to see that my little outburst has shifted his focus away from Spencer.

‘Come on,’ JJ sighs, cutting Derek and Spencer a curious glare. ‘Tell us everything.’

I hesitate for a moment, taking another drink. How much to reveal? I realise that I am going to have to toe a careful line between what is suitable to tell them, and what I want to take to the grave. They are my friends first, though. Colleagues second. There’s not much point in hiding anymore, not if they still want to go out for drinks with Jas and Tia when we’ve finished the case. There’s no going back.

‘Alright.’ I take a deep breath and start to pull at my fingernails. ‘But don’t judge me, okay?’

‘We promise.’ Emily says, voice so sincere that it almost hurts. She raises her glass in a mock toast, and the others follow suit–even Spencer raises his glass, though his movements are more stilted, eyes clouded with that mixture of emotions I’m driving myself insane trying to decipher.

‘I did dance under a stage name–it was Cassandra, or Cass. I chose it because–’

‘Because of the priestess?’ Spencer’s words are a mere mumble, but I am so attuned into him that I hear him. He’s looking somewhere in the region of my collar, but at least he’s looking at me.

‘Yeah. Precisely. She was this Trojan priestess that was cursed to see the future, but for no one to believe her, but I chose it because of what the name means, etymologically.’

‘Bless you.’ Emily teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Go on, what does it mean?’

‘The Greek spelling is with a K, so ‘kassos’ means to excel, and ‘andros’ means over men. So her name literally means ‘to excel over men’. I was quite proud of that one.’

‘Damn…and did you? Excel over men?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ I grin, taking a sip. ‘I did a variety of different types of dances–you kind of have to do all of them, really. No favourite moves, a couple of regulars that came in just to watch me, and yes, Emily, I do still have my playlist. To answer your question, Derek, a couple of them tried to take me home, and only one succeeded.’

‘What?’ Spencer’s word is perfectly formed, a bullet that pierces through the alcoholic armour I’d been establishing. I blink in surprise. He is staring at me with his mouth slightly parted, such a betrayed look on his face that I’m cut deep to the core. Spencer had seemed content to stay out of the conversation, but this is perhaps the first sign I get about how he’s actually feeling. ‘You slept with the people you danced for?’

‘Only one, and that was a long time ago–’ I say, wondering how only Spencer can get me feeling so defensive and so eager to alleviate his concerns.

‘It doesn’t matter when it was.’ Spencer’s voice is sharp, but he remains motionless, evidently not wanting to give away too much. The rest of the team are leaning back in their seats to get away from the tense energy now crackling between us. Emily is looking between us with a curious expression. ‘You slept with someone you barely knew, someone who saw you as nothing more than a–’

‘Than a what, Spencer? Go on, say ‘whore’, I know you want to.’ I snap back, slamming my glass down onto the table more violently than intended. Spencer flashes hurt eyes at me. ‘Jesus, Spencer, it’s my life–my old life–and I did what I wanted with it. I don’t need to explain it to you.’

‘No, no, don’t worry,’ Spencer scoffs, voice laced with bitterness. ‘I’ve worked it out. You used to sell your body for money, let men ogle you and touch you and degrade you, and you slept with one of them just because you thought, what, you thought it was fun? That doesn’t make you a stripper, June, that makes you a hooker.’

‘What the fuck, Reid?’ My words are soft, but the meaning is harsh. I’m hurt. I’ve heard those words a thousand times, from a thousand different people, but hearing it from Spencer–my Spencer–sucks the life right out of me. It’s as if it’s the first time I’m hearing it. All I want to do is run away and hide, but I can’t. ‘Don’t talk to me like that. You have no idea what it was like.’

‘Oh, but I do. I’ve seen the crime scenes.’ Spencer’s voice is cold. Clinical. Detached. It breaks my heart a little. ‘I’ve seen what those men do to women like you, I know how they treat you, how they view you. And you willingly put yourself in that position–it’s…it’s disgusting and, and–’

‘Stop it!’ I snap, slamming my hands onto the table. His words hit me like a physical blow, knocking all of the air out of my lungs. My eyes line with silver. I can’t believe he’s saying this to me, I can’t comprehend that he thinks that about me. I rise out of my seat, towering over the table. ‘Stop fucking talking, Reid. How dare you?’

‘Whoa, hey, easy now…’ Emily puts out a warning arm between us and I am suddenly reminded that the rest of the team are there. They have shifty looks on their faces. ‘Let’s all just calm down.’

‘No, actually–actually, I’m done.’ I sigh, seeing off my drink and gesturing for Emily to get out of the booth. ‘I’m leaving. Fuck this.’

I grab my snacks and my phone before pushing out past the rest of them and making a beeline for the door. I can hear their voices call out after me, but I don’t care. Even when I see Spencer rise too, as if making to follow me, I don’t change my trajectory. Thankfully Derek yanks Spencer back down into his seat. At least that’s one less thing to worry about. I stalk out of the bar as quickly as possible.

It’s only when I’m in the lift that I let the hot, salty tears start to fall.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PART TWO CAN BE FOUND HERE.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fanfiction #larkspur-acontium #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid angst #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds headcanons

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lynderman · 2 years ago

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𝘼 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙀𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 (Xavier Thorpe)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Date Published: 12/9/22

Synopsis: You’ve always been 2nd place. First place for losers. Attending Nevermore was supposed to change that.

A/N: (I was so confident writing this, and I feel like I went down a rabbit hole because some shit doesn't even make sense. So idk if it’s good or not. It also isn’t proofread 💀)

Part 2

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Vi, are you still free after fencing today? I thought I’d take you up on that offer and go down to Jericho to get-“

“Sorry. I told Wednesday I’d meet her in the nightshades library to look for a certain book.” My smile instantly vanished as he said her name. It’s not that I hate her, no. I could never. We’re best friends! Well, as close as best friends could be to Wednesday Addams. I didn’t have a reason to hate her; But I did have more than enough to be jealous. Ever since we were kids she’s always been able to one-up me.

It started with small things like getting better grades in school. Then to committing higher and bigger crimes. And it eventually reached the point where I felt like everyone in the family preferred her to me. Even my own dad! Her precious ‘Uncle Fester’, the only one who made her smile. He made everyone smile though. Every time he came home from one of his jobs, I’d get a pat on the head and Wednesday would get a hug. His niece got more love and affection from him than his own daughter did.

I thought maybe, just maybe when I came to Nevermore I’d be able to fit in. Be my own person! Make my own friends, be someone who I wanted to be. Not living in the shadows of my cousin; Being known as ‘The other Addams?’ Or ‘Wednesdays’ Cousin!’ And I was for a while. For a whole year I was just known as Me. I wasn’t compared to anyone or told to be better. In fact I was great! Fantastic, even.

I’d made captain of the fencing team, like aunt Morticia. I was first chair in almost all my classes. I had friends of my own and was always asked to hang out. People were interested in me. They wanted me for me. Especially Xavier. God, Xavier. He was drop dead gorgeous. His long hair that framed his face so perfectly. His hazel eyes so full of hope and warmth. The smile that was always on his face when I walked up to him or when we hung out. He made me feel so happy and appreciated. Just loved and seen. I would do anything for him because I know he’d do the same for me!

Or so I thought.

The second that Wednesday showed up to Nevermore, any hopes I had of asking him out or just anything suddenly vanished. Like everyone else in my life, I was soon replaced by her darkening and compelling image. He became so infatuated with her. Our afternoon runs were taken away and replaced with him hanging out with her. He sat through and listened to her crazy theories all day and looked at her like she hung the stars herself. The same way he looked at me once.

My fists clenched my bag and I held back the urge to scream on the spot. Now the one time we were both free was taken away by her again? She wasn’t even a nightshade so that isn’t fair. “Have fun with that. I’ll be by the lake if you feel like I’m worth your time today.” My words seemed to get his attention because he finally looked up from his sketchbook. I caught a glimpse and saw it was an another drawing of Wednesday. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked off before he got the chance to. Or cry. Whichever came first at this point.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun shone directly onto my face as I continued to write down the finishing lyrics to my song. My plan for the day was to hang out with Xavier and show him my new music for my violin. He knew I played an instrument but he didn’t know what it was or that I sang. So I thought it’d be a good time to surprise him! But of course my plans were ruined thanks to Wednesday. Again.

Letting out a grunt of frustration, I threw my pen into the lake. “What’d the pen ever do to you?” My attention turned to Xavier’s voice behind me. I listened to the sound of the leaves crunch and stop before he sat down on my blanket beside me. I didn’t ask him to, but I always found it hard to be upset or angry with him. Peering over my shoulder he asked what I’d been writing. “Just some music. I was gonna go back to my dorm and see how it turned out.” He didn’t need to know I wanted him to go back with me.

“Really? Can I see it?” Hesitation filled my body but I still gave him the notebook. His hands flipped through my pages and the words. I prayed to god he didn’t under Latin. “You never told me you write music.” I shrugged and turned back to the lake. “You never bothered to ask.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We sat at the lake for a while and just talked. It was nice; Feeling like I got my old friend back. The way he laughed at each joke I made and seemed to be genuinely interested in my topics made me realize how hard I’d fallen for him again. “Speaking of hair-“ He reached out to twirl the white strand in my black head of hair between his fingers. “Did you just decide it was a cool fashion statement or something?” I laughed lightly and shook my head.

“No, no. Back in 6th grade I was doing a science experiment, Y’know the one where you dissect frogs right? I was cutting him open and i just electrocuted myself without realizing it. That’s when I found out I’m like my dad. The whole lightning and shit. But I can do this weird thing with weather too where-“ I paused when I realized I was getting off track. “Anyways. I zapped myself and some shit happened with my hair when I did. It was only this piece though.” Laughing I turned the other way and buried my head into my knees. “I’ve tried to dye it back but it never works. All the other kids would make fun of me and say I’d get cancer or go bald. I dunno why though, that doesn’t make sense.”

What didn’t make sense was that I was basically Trauma dumping on Xavier for no reason. All he asked about was my hair and got some sob story in return. There was silence for a moment. I knew I overshared and he’d think I’m just some attention whore. It took me by surprise when he put his hand on mine, making me turn to face him. “I think it’s cool. Makes you stand out.” The blush that spread across my face was inevitable. Like an idiot I asked: “Really?”

A smile broke out in his face as he nodded. “Do you still wanna go to Jericho? The shuttle leaves in about 20 minuets? We can go to the weathervane and maybe check out that new music store?” My stomach was filled to the brim with butterfly’s, warmth spreading throughout it. Play it cool, play it cool. Don’t freak out. Just say that sounds fun. “Yes! Of course. I’d love to.” I mentally face palmed myself with the joy in my voice. It felt like a movie moment. Was this him asking me out on a date? Xavier finally got the balls to be the one to initiate it? No thoughts were going through my mind as my body leaned closer to his, him doing the same.

I could smell his cologne and feel his breath on my face; A mere 6 inches between my lips and his. Just as mine were to meet his, a phone rang. His phone. He blinked and apologized before picking it up.

“Hello? Enid? Since when did you call me? No, I’m not. She was busy so I’m at the lake, hanging out with-“ Xavier paused as Enid’s voice rose over the line, his brows furrowing as she spoke. I couldn’t hear what was going on. “Yeah, sure. Give me 7-8 minuets and I can. The quad or the courtyard? Mhm, sure.” He lowered his phone and hung up. “What’d Enid call about?” Standing up he began to brush himself off. “Wednesday asked her to call me since she doesn’t ‘want to be a slave to technology’. Said something about her finding a new lead on the monster and to meet her in the nightshades library.”

“But didn’t you earlier?” He shook his head. “No, she needed to do something else and talk to someone.” My lips pursed and watched as he grabbed his sketchbook from beside my bag. “Can we uh- rain check on Jericho?” All the butterflies and warmth my stomach were replaced with dread and insect repellent. “Again?” I muttered. “It’s nothing personal, I just need to-“

“No it never is with you is it? I mean do you even care about anyone or anything other than Wednesday?” The words left my mouth before I could process what I said. “Sorry?” Now I was standing up, arms crossed as I spoke. “Sorry? Oh shut up; Stop playing dumb. We both know you’re not so don’t try to bullshit your way out of this.” He took a step closer to me and looked down, irritation and confusion clouding his eyes. “What’re you talking about? What’s this even coming from? Why’re you getting so worked up about us hanging out?” Scoffing I took a step back from him.

“I’m getting worked up about this because you hang out with her all the time and not me! I’m constantly being ditched and put to the side cause you wanna go waste your time who doesn’t give a single fuck about you!”

“Don’t say that. She does but just act-“

“Acts distant and cold? Stand-offish and uninterested? She’s like that with everyone. What makes you think you’re any different to her? Do you think you’re special or some shit? Wednesday’s been like this her entire life and she’s certainly not going to change for some moron of a dude.” Xavier’s face only showed confusion as I spoke. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you can’t put two and two together? Wednesday Addams; (Y/n) Addams? How many Addams’s in this school do you know? If you named more, I wouldn’t be surprised since you seem to pay attention to everyone else other than me.” “Not everything is about you (Y/n).” He snapped.

“You’re right. It’s not! It’s always about Wednesday. Everything is. It’s always ‘Oh, have you seen Wednesday? I’m looking for her.’ Or ‘Do you wanna see this new drawing of her? It looks better than the last!’ Anything that comes out of your mouth is about her! Have you ever noticed how you put me next to her? Below, If you will. She plays cello and you draw her. I play violin, but you never bothered to ask because you’re too busy talking about how good she sounds. You go with her to Jericho to get coffee while I’m left behind doing schoolwork. Everywhere I go I’m beneath her. I’m compared to her, I’m belittled because I’m not as edgy or mysterious as she is. My family seems to like her more too. My own father loves her more than me! Can you imagine that, Xavier? Having to live in the shadow of your little cousin because she’s so much better than you at everything? I thought the name I made for myself at Nevermore would stick! I’d have my own friends and interests and not be known as the other Addams girl. I thought that I could get away and have shit of my own! BUT NO. I CAN’T.”

The air around me felt chilly and vast, a small breeze inclining as my voice got louder. “But it’s never going to happen. Everyone will always choose her over me. I’ll always be second to her. And it’s not fair. It’s not. I try to hard at everything. Especially when making friends. I’m almost on my knees trying to get people to approach me but she just has to stand and glare at people and suddenly they’re wrapped around her finger. Like you. You’re just another string waiting to be pulled by her; Following and doing what she says like a lost puppy. You look at her with such admiration and longing in your eyes. Maybe if you turned your head the other way and fixed your eyesight, you’d see that’s how I look at you! If you weren’t so fucking blinded by her borderline manipulative tendencies you’d notice I’m the way with you you are with her.”

My hands were moving with immense exaggeration as I spoke. The feeling of static shooting through my veins when I threw them down to my sides in anger. “Look, I’m sorry. Why don’t we talk about this and-“ A short circuit of lighting extended from my fingers when I held my hand up to him. “This isn’t a two way conversation right now. It’s one where you listen to every word I say because that’s all I’ve ever done for you, especially ever since Wednesday’s gotten here-“

Speak of the devil, and she’ll arrive. Looking to my left I could see her standing a few feet away from us. “I think your feelings for Xavier are getting in the way of our goal, (Y/n).” I deadpanned. “Our goal?” She didn’t answer my question, only asking another one in its place.

“How would your father feel if he knew you were letting your emotions get the better of you?”

“Gee, I dunno. Why don’t you ask him since he was with you early in the nightshade’s library!” She said nothing. “He finally shows up after being on the run again and stops to say hi! Not to his daughter, but his niece.”

“It’s not my fault if Fester approached me and not you.”

“It’s never your fault is it? Nothing ever is. You’re just perfect Wednesday who’s above all others. Especially her cousin who’s done everything in her power to help her with her bullshit conspiracies. I’ve been on your side since day one. Believing in your shit when no one else would. And how do you thank me? By stealing the few people I have In my life away from me. Again and again. It’s a never ending cycle. And I never bother to break it because we’re family, Wednesday.” The overwhelming emotion of anger and hatred died down, the slight breeze fading completely. Now it was just cold and quiet. Water began to drop onto my clothes and belongings. When I looked up I realized It was raining; But only on me. As cliché as it sounds, there was a small storm cloud hovering above my head. Hence the weather thing I was telling Xavier about earlier.

“Do you know what you struggle with, (Y/n?).” Laughing, I faced Wednesday again. “No, but I’d love to hear your piercing insight on it!” “You don’t know when to turn your emotions on and off. You let them consume and confuse you. How you’re just a fool with a slow heart; Putting out love for others only to never get any back.” The rain became heavier as she spoke, each drop hitting harder against my face. “I understand that emotions are a foreign concept for you, Wednesday, but you don’t have a right to talk about mine if you don’t have any.” Is what I’d like to have said. But it isn’t. It was more along the lines of:

“Maybe you’re right. I do love too much because no one has ever given me any. I hope that one day you’ll think about all of the love I’ve given you, and maybe feel generous to reciprocate it.” Turning from her I grabbed my bag off the now drenched blanket and sling it over my bag. “The same goes for you, Vi. When you come to your senses and realize that I have and will still do anything to get a small sliver of your validation or time, my dorm room door will be open.” I meant to passive aggressively hand him his sketchbook back, but it was really just me shoving it into his chest. I didn’t dare look back at the two as I literally stormed off into the forest.

The sun still was shining around me even as I made my way back to the courtyard, through the quad, and up to my dorm. The cloud only got bigger when I was alone in my dorm room. Sitting in my shower I thought. Thought about how Wednesdays’ right. Despite ending up with nothing, I’ll still give everyone else everything I’ve never gotten in hopes someone will one day do the same.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#xavier thorpe #x reader #netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe x reader #angst #fanfic #reader insert #wednesday #enid sinclair #xavier thorpe x you

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judesmoonbeauty · 3 months ago

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Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Nica Schwartz EPILOGUE

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

Nica: She truly is a cute robin.

I heard a muttered voice and turned around, but he just smiled and waved.

Kate: Did you say something?

Nica: Nothing at all. Anyway, if you don’t go home, then will you keep doing naughty things with me?

Kate: I won’t!

When I turned away from him, Nica began to walk ahead, chuckling.

(I’m so tired today…..)

(It’s all because of Nica’s teasing me)

As I watched his nonchalant back, I felt a little irritated, but I didn’t feel any regret about taking his hand.

[Transitions to the Palace.]

One day, a few days after the mission —

(I’m glad the issue was exposed because there was evidence of illegal gambling.)

It was thought that the evidence had been lost in the fire, but a ledger left at the scene revealed illegal gambling, and was delivered to Her Majesty the Queen.

(This is just the tip of the iceberg.)

I recalled Nica’s words and came to a halt.

(Still, I think we need to solve the problems in front of us one at a time.)

With a changed mindset, I started walking,

(Maybe I should talk to Nica about it?)

I turned on my heel to search the entire palace to lay out the facts.

Nica: I found a cute robin looking for me.

At that moment, Nica appeared before me and I jumped in surprise.

Kate: How did you know I was looking for you?

Nica: Heh, so you really were looking for me.

(I’ve been taken along for a ride…..)

Nica: Is there something you wanted to say to me?

Nica: How about some tea?

When I accepted the invitation with a nod, he escorted me to the drawing room, where I sat down on the sofa.

Nica: So, you wanted to have a chat about the casino the other day?

Kate: How’s that….

Nica: I’m a staff officer, right?

Nica: Information gathering is a skill.

He takes a sip of his tea and begins cutting the deck of playing cards he has in hand.

Nica: The core of the aristocrats were arrested, but the children of the upper class were released on bail.

Nica: Well, they’re nothing more than debauched sons and daughters.

Kate: …..People who’ve lost everything because of gambling.

Nica: At best they’ll go to a rescue institution, otherwise won’t they die in ditch somewhere? [1]

Nica: I don’t care what happens to the gambling addicts.

I frowned at his skillful shuffling.

Kate: They certainly brought it upon themselves.

Kate: But I don't believe that all of the people who attacked me had ill intentions that were beyond the point of no return.

Whatever the reason, it was a crime to cause an explosion and attack so many people.

Kate: I don’t approve of methods that do not allow room for rehabilitation.

Nica’s eyes widened and he blinks repeatedly.

Then, there’s a loud laugh.

Nica: I’m jealous that a kind young lady is worried about them.

Nica: Would you like to gamble to find out how they feel?

Kate: Huh?

Nica: You might understand if you experience the thrill of not knowing if you’ll win or lose,

Nica: The exhilaration of winning and the despair of losing.

When I gazed at him who was dealing the cards alternately,

Nica: What will you bet? Money? Your body?

Kate: I won’t bet that!

Nica: The bigger the stakes, the more intense it is.

When he picks up the cards dealt,

Nica: If I win, show me around the city.

Nica: Of course, without telling Crown.

Nica discards a pair of matching cards, and I realize this is a game of Old Maid.

Nica: You might not be trusted as a fairytale keeper anymore.

Kate: What’s in it for me?

Nica: If you win, I’ll tell you all about us.

Kate: What?

He flashed a card,

Nica: What’s our aim, what we’re going to do, I’ll answer all your questions.

Nica: What will you do?

He smiled meaningfully and crossed his legs.

(Maybe I can learn about “their lies” that Harrison was talking about.)

Kate: I’ll do it.

Nica: Now you’re talking.

Taking a deep breath I faced it.

Nica: Ladies first.

As he said that, I reached and pulled out a card, but

(Ah,)

I drew the joker, and resisted the urge to make a facial expression.

Then Nica smiled widely.

(Maybe he knows what I drew…..?)

Nica: Why are you staring at me like that. Have you fallen in love with me?

This battle may have been decided who’d lose from the start.

Ftn [1] 野垂れ死に 'Notarejini' - Literally, to die in a field or die a dog’s death.

[Master List] Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko Please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tags list!

#nica schwartz #ikevil nica #nica schwartz translations #ikevil translations #cybird translations

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 years ago

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MATCHBREAKER

inspired by TAWOG’s “The Matchmaker”episode. aka damian asserting his dominance the prequel. everyone is aged up and legal.

pairing: yan! batfam/teen titans x kitsune! reader

status: unedited

[ prequel to this fic ]

Damian had finally come to terms that he may have a crush on you. As evidenced by his large collection of photos, clothing and drawings. But, along with this came a slew of obstacles.

Now you see the biggest problem about his crush on you was that a lot of people also had an obsession with your magnificent self, mainly Garfield and Rachel. In addition to your newfound relationship with the former, Damian was in shambles.

And Rachel, not realizing Garfield was actually serious about his flirtations towards you, may or may not have created a love potion that he ended up stealing and dosing you with.

“So you’re saying that the reason why I’ve been suffering these past few days weren’t because they genuinely loved each-other, but because you. screwed. up?!”

Dick shook the magic-user back and forth. You had been outright rejecting his advances these past few days in favor of actually being loyal to your boyfriend and it hurt his poor ego; shattered his heart. Not only that but the two of you would engage in such aggressive PDA he wouldn’t be surprised if you two started boning during a fight.

“No, it’s because they’re just destined to be together— yes, Grayson! I screwed up!” Rachel shoved him off of her. Dusting her cape before readjusting it to cover her entire body again.

“And Garfield didn’t consume any of this Love Potion, you speak of?” Kori thought back to the times Garfield outright said how much he loved you. He was quite shameless but he never got serious or confident enough to properly pursue you when the entire team was after your affections.

“That’s. . . all on him. The Love Potion works with just one recipient.”

“That little—“

Damian interrupted Jamie from swearing, an even graver look on his face as he commander. “Titans. It’s time to play Matchbreaker.”

PLAN A: FE[A]R OF COMMITMENT

The plan of attack included several strategies. Each carefully thought out before hand. Well, for the most part.

“[Y/N] hates commitment. What if we scare them by making Garfield propose?” Jamie proposed, the beetle behind him pulses its lights in agreement.

“On it.” Tim got to working. In just an hour he had a site and link to lure you in. Running on pure determination to keep you away from Beast Boy, it wasn’t a challenge to make an elaborate trap by hacking into Garfield’s account and messaging you. That, and considering you’re a bit of a boomer. You didn’t really question much of what was happening.

“. . . You’re invited to a wedding with Garfield?” You read aloud as everyone watched with bated breaths.

But instead of reeling in disgust, it’s almost as if hearts started growing out of your eyes as you squealed, “Awe~! A-ccept!”

Everyone deflated in defeat. Some looked to Rachel in scorn. “I may or may not have increased the dosage to . . . almost unbreakable levels.”

“Why?!”

“As . . . practice. . .” Rachel looked away, using her cape to partially cover her face.

The rest of the titans collectively sigh.

“Nothing a little finesse can’t fix.” Dick cracked his knuckles.

PLAN C: [C]RIME OF PASSION

“[Y/N]. You look stunning today.” Nightwing approached you. A smirk on his face that would look menacing if it wasn’t from your friend.

“Thanks, Dick — I— “ You waved at him only for your lips to meet his seconds after. You struggled to push him away, but that only worsened the situation and prompted him to insert his tongue.

The worst part of the whole situation being that Garfield just walked in to witness that.

Rachel and Damian appeared behind him, courtesy of the former’s magic and with the latter holding a baton in his hands. “What’s this?”

“A crime of passion.”

The two were prepared to knock out Garfield if he did seriously attempt hurting you. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all, and since he wasn’t affected by magic everything should go according to pla-

“But they’re too good not to be shared!”

“Alright folks, get the big bird off of them!”

Dick was knocked out by Jason and Victor, effectively putting him out of commission for the next . . . several plans.

PLAN F: [F]URRY LOVE

“Okay who named this plan, exactly?”

Rachel questioned as she looked through the blueprints and diagrams on the board (Yes, they were being that thorough).

Victor coughed at her comment.

“Before we start this properly I can at least make one of his transformations last a while so they don’t . . . “ Do the hanky panky. Everyone thought in different levels of crassness in their head.

“Do it.” The entire team wordlessly agreed, if there was anything they’d do everything to stop it was you getting down and dirty with the green young adult.

After an intense mission and just as Rachel’s spell dictated, Garfield was stuck in his gorilla form. “I- I can’t turn back!”

But the heroes seemed to forget that you also had a furry form and did not mind Garfield’s in the slightest, even cheering him up by saying, “It’s fine, honey. It just means there’s more to love!“

“GET THEM AWAY FROM EACHOTHER, NOW!” Victor screeched in horror, circuits frying from the terrifying sight he’s witnessing.

After promptly blasting the two of you apart for a bit, the team members hurried into their positions for the second half of the plan.

“Quick, get the lice!” Kori hollered at Jamie who was fumbling around with the box of lice he bought online. She then lifted him overhead, allowing the blue suited man to cover his former friend (he didn’t consider him a friend anymore at this point) with the insects.

“Ack! Why am I feeling so itchy?”

“Let me help you with that—“

You two are swiftly sent to different parts of the state before things get too nasty.

PLAN L: JEA[L]OUS DAMIAN (actual name: [L]eft Nut)

It has been almost a week since they started unleashing their plans upon the couple but the Titans and co. didn’t gain much ground. Your infatuation almost worsened as the days went by, and keeping you away from Beast Boy was close to impossible when your specialty in the team was stealth and espionage.

“Demonspawn? Hang on — what are you-“ Jason, who had a perfect line up for Garfield’s scrotum raised his hands in annoyance, watching through his scope as his younger brother suddenly swooped in to grab you from your boyfriend and ruining his shot.

“Well . . . That works.”

Once Damian had you secured in his room, he slammed you unto his bed.

May it be from the shock of sudden movements or seeing your own crush hovering over you, the effects of the Love Potion broke and you leaned upwards to kiss your leader.

You two spent hours tied up together before you eventually pulled away. Meeting the youngest Robin’s still angered face you laughed awkwardly,

“Ahaha . . . I’m screwed aren’t I?”

“Oh Habibti, you can’t even imagine.”

Damian was unsure of his future with you. What he was sure of was that this little fox needed a leash, and what leader would he be if he didn’t assert his authority?

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arjudy224 · 10 months ago

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Three Times the Batfamily has been disgusted by your love life...

Dating is hard... but dating in Gotham... Oh Brother... Here are all the times the Batfamily has been involved in your love life.

1st time: Valentines Day

I've really gotta stop going for nerdy guys. This never ends the way I want it to.

"You know Eddie. You could have bought me dinner..." I call out to the rambling rogue behind me, "Scratch that... I can list off a hundred different date ideas.... That DO NOT INVOLVE THE BATMAN."

From behind, there is a swift crack followed by a muffled cry.

"I like flowers... I'm sure there was a way you could incorporate a riddle with those."

Footsteps draw nearer.

"I honestly don't even think you are trying. What does a child make, but never see? Come on dude... Work on on yourself. Restraints are fun, but this is ridiculous."

Suddenly, my restraints loosen. Stumbling to my feet, I swiftly turn around to see Batman's foreboding gaze staring down at me while my boyfriend lies face down 3 feet away.

"Are you alright?" Batman questions carefully noting my lacy heart pj's on top my push up bra. My diamond question mark necklace glitters in the darkness.

"Uh... yeah... Guess I should probably find an apartment where the Riddler doesn't live next door."

Batman sighs before patting me on the back. I am weirdly comforted by the paternal look in his eyes.

"That would be for the best."

2nd time:

Nightwing raises a pointed eyebrow before covering Robin’s eyes. Robin smacks his gloved hand away.

“Come on…. Y/N…” Nightwing trails off.

I interrupt him before this can get anymore humiliating. Being left to be eaten by a man sized Venus Flytrap after a date is not how I imagined my night to go.

“I do not need a life lesson; I have work tomorrow.”

Robin dutifully unties my restraints. He carefully looks anywhere else except my green lingerie.

Nightwing clears his throat. Rummaging through fallen leaves, he asks

“Do you know where she might have left your clothes?”

I shake my head before I start searching the drawers to the left of the nightstand. My sweaty palms create some difficulty turning the knobs.

“You know…” Nightwing continues leaning against the wall, “If you ever wanted to go on a date with someone who wasn’t going to be sent to Arkham… I’ve got this brother.”

My heart starts pounding. This is not happening. Robin’s jaw drops in disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to set up Red Hood right now?” He gasps incredulously.

Both vigilantes listen to something being said into their ear pieces.

“Well, Jaybird. She’s prettier than anyone you’ve been talking to lately.”

My mouth gasps silently like a fish. Robin finally looks me up and down. He nods before agreeing. This child did not just....

Trying to ignore the hot waves of embarrassment, I finally force words to come out.

“GET OUT! I’ll find them myself!”

3rd time:

“Okay… but this time was not my fault.” I explain raising my hands in surrender. “How was I supposed to know that Two Face’s favorite song would be ‘22’? I have to make a living somehow!”

Batgirl tries to keep a straight face, but when she glances back at Red Robin… they both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry….” She says trying to be professional, “This isn’t funny.”

“Uh huh…” I respond narrowing my eyes at them.

Realizing my mortification, their laughter slowly dies down. The teenage vigilantes grow as serious as possible.

“So, Two Face took you captive after you dedicated 22 by Taylor Swift to him?” Robin questions analyzing the crime boss’s office.

“Yes, I work at the iceberg lounge as a singer.”

“Where you ever an associate of Harvey Dent before his accident?”

My face goes red. This is not how I wanted today to go. I hate adding fuel to their fire.

“Something like that. I made some mistakes early in college.”

Batgirl bites her quivering lip to avoid laughing before composing herself. She checks her clip board left by Gordon.

“We’ll make sure GCPD gets back your… 2 themed underwear that went missing?”

I fantasize about those birds that slam their head underground to avoid conflict.

“I just want my computer. He can… keep the rest. I’m sure he’d like wearing it more than me.” I awkwardly trail off wrapping the robe tighter around my body.

Red Robin nods before muttering something into his ear piece.

“Okay, we’ll be on the search for that. I’m sure Red Hood can drop it off when he raids the lair tonight."

I start laughing before taking a step back. Putting my hands up, I interrupt.

“I can pick it up at Gordon’s office tomorrow. There’s… no need for… any of that.”

The two teens share a glance.

“Are you sure?” Batgirl inquires with a knowing smile in my direction.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Leave me out of this. I do not need to end up dead in crime alley because you guys thought it would be a good idea to set me up with your brother.”

Laughter can be heard in their comms. I vaguely make out “She’s got a point” in Nightwing’s voice.

With a reluctant grin, Batgirl shrugs. Before the vigilante duo leave, Red Robin flashes me an ornery grin.

“See you later.”

I respectfully flip them both off. Laughter echoes down the hallway as they leave.

#batfamily #batbros #batfamily x reader #batman #red hood x reader #batfam #red hood #tim drake #jason todd x reader #jason todd #robin x reader #bisexual

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autumnmobile12 · 7 months ago

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Villain Deku AU

Most of the time when I see the Villain Deku AU, he's often crazy, and while I do love that concept, I really want to see more sarcastic, cinnamon roll 'Moxxie from Helluva Boss' vibes.

Shigaraki: And that's the plan, any questions?

Deku: Uh, yeah, what was that?

Shigaraki: That wasn't a question, Deku.

Deku: That wasn't a plan.

...

Remember my League of Morons vs A Summer Camp post?

Deku can fix that.

Shigaraki: All right, smart ass, you think you can do better?

Deku: I actually can. Your first mistake is attacking the second night of the camp. Let them all have their summer camp fun. By the end of a single week of non-stop, hardcore training, they'll be exhausted and less likely to fight off a surprise attack efficiently. Now, before the camp begins, we'll need Spinner to drive out there. You're the only one of us who hasn't committed any significant crimes yet.

Spinner: Why is that important?

Deku: *smiling cheerfully* Because you're a civilian. The Wild, Wild Pussycats aren't going to think it's weird if a civilian drives up to their base asking for directions through the mountains. Just make sure you have nice, dead battery for your cell phone. Ooh, or you could park on the road with a low tank of gas and walk up to their base! That'll sell it.

Spinner: Sell what?

Deku: You're getting the exact coordinates of the building for Kurogiri, of course. Once we have that information, he can open warp gates beneath our target while he's asleep and let gravity do the rest.

Kurogiri: You suggest we strike at night?

Deku: Right. You want to kidnap Kaachan, so we do it covertly while everyone's asleep. After that, if you really want to send a message to the heroes, we can always seal up the doors and windows, then Mustard can gas the building. Or Dabi can burn it to the ground. Your choice. Painless death in their sleep or painful death by fire?

Dabi: ...holy fuck, that's insane.

All-For-One: *through the computer monitor* Intriguing proposition, Deku. I suppose you have a back-up plan in case something goes wrong.

Deku: About that, it's entirely possible one of the Pussycats or UA teachers will be on look-out and if that's the case, Eraserhead will be the biggest obstacle. Most of you rely extremely heavily on your Quirks. We'll have to work on that, but in our current time frame, doing so before the summer camp is not feasible. So we'll need to remove the one player who can nullify Quirks. That'll be Mr. Compress's job.

Compress: And how exactly will I do that?

Deku: You'll hit him with a surprise attack. Kurogiri will open a warp gate for you, and the second he does, then you strike. Simple.

Muscular: Yeah, and what about the rest of us?

Deku: You'll be on standby in case Compress fails or draws too much attention to himself. Now about our hostage situation...do we really want Kaachan?

Kurogiri: What do you mean?

Deku: Well I know Kaachan. Despite his violent tendencies, he does have a strong sense of justice and he won't be easy to corrupt. Might I suggest taking the heteromorph students instead? Given society's discrimination problem against what they call the 'non-human' types, they've already got a reason for dissatisfaction with how they've been treated since they were born. Oh, and we should take Yaoyorozu Momo, too.

All: ....why?

Deku: She's rich. Her Quirk is infinitely useful, of course, but even if we can't convince her to join the League, her family will pay us a hefty ransom to get her back. For the record, so will Endeavor if we abduct his youngest son, too. Or we could just ransom the oldest one if all else fails.

Dabi: How the fuck did you know?!

Deku: ...Todoroki Touya allegedly burned up in a massive forest fire and the body was never found. You have a fire Quirk and horrific, full body burn scars and are the age he would have been today. It's not rocket science.

Shigaraki: ...this brat just hijacked my entire plan.

...

He'd quickly become the Bilbo Baggins of LoV, the one who's solving all the problems right up until they get to the fight with Gigantomachia, at which point he says, "No, I'm not helping you this time. He's gotta respect you, this is your quest. I'm not the fighting type, so I'll just sit back and watch." Proceeds to sit quietly and take notes while observing the fight.

Dabi also wasn't helping out with that fight, so every now and then he checks in on their progress. He just shows up, mildly entertained and mostly annoyed by the collective ineptitude (not that he's any better,) and he walks up to Deku.

Dabi: So how many ways have you thought of to defeat him?

Both: *duck as Spinner goes flying over them*

Deku: ...47. How's that recruitment process going? Because you're starting to look way more useful as a bargaining chip for ransom.

Dabi: Says the guy who's just sitting here.

#my hero academia #izuku midoriya #villain deku #alternate universe #league of villains #dabi #shigaraki tomura #boku no hero academia #bnha #spinner #kurogiri #vanguard action squad #mha #all for one #afo #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #reference

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year ago

Text

Mating Season Ends

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3359

Summary: After lasting about 2 weeks, mating season ends and the ship returns to normal. Dwainet didn't get a single female. You begin to learn the life that We'ar-ow leads and all that consists within in it.

Author Note: Slowly working at this while getting to requests, promise! I had to think about how I was going to go along with this story. I think I have it down, we'll see it. Also, I haven't forgotten about the 1k drawing. I'm only four away currently so we'll seeeee

Masterlist

Ao3

There’s a smirk among We’ar-ow’s face. Said Yautja is sat upon a single seat chair in her living room, tablet in her grasp. Though, she hadn’t forced you to be out here with her, your room was starting to get beyond boring of just standing there and doing nothing. Instead, you’ve ventured out and explored what was available to you.

A watchful eye was kept on her as you moved around, like a fearful animal ensuring you didn’t anger her. You knew, despite her gaze on the device, she also observed you. Always. You stopped and peered over at the pink Yautja, head slightly tilted. She doesn’t often let loose any expressions but the fact she had a full grin peeked your interest. Yet, you didn’t dare raise a question.

Right as you were about to continue exploring, We’ar-ow grunted. “Do not be afraid to ask a question, pet,” she said, eyes still on the tablet. You tensed up and worried at your bottom lip. “Speak.”

You groaned lowly. “Why are you smirking?” you brought up the question rolling around your mind. Her upper mandibles twitched, clicking against the bottoms ones. You stayed in the same spot by a room you’ve never been in before.

“That male you mated with.” Dwainet. You slightly flinch as his words rang in your mind. “The mating season ends today. Not a single female reported mating with him.” Reported? They listed that shit?! By god’s grace… all of this was so strange and kind of disgusting to be honest. Why would you want someone to know who you… ehm, had sex with?

Disgust fell over your face. “Why do you know this?” you asked another question, feeling uncomfortable about the conversation.

We’ar-ow raised her device slightly. “We have everything charted. It’s a way to ensure inbreeding does not occur or any diseases appear, we are able to track it down to whom.” Okay… now that made more sense. Still though, you didn’t want your dirty laundry to be aired. “I expected no one to mate with his disloyal ass. I like to know if it was true.”

Her words from when she bested Dwainet rung inside of her head. Right. Since he committed a low crime, not a single female would let them mate with her. Something you also took joy in, just less noticeable. You cleared your throat and softly nodded your head. “That’s… that’s good to know,” you spoke and leaned against the wall close by.

A hum filled the tense air. “Yes. Are you pleased?” Now, your brows furrowed at her words. Why would she care? You just shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly to answer her question. “You still care,” it was more of a statement than a question.

Deep down, you do. You still do. Your heart continuously ached at the heartbreak but he was your first love, true love at first sight. As stupid as the whole situation was, you still cared about the person who smashed your heart without any remorse. Look at you now: a pet to the Monarch of an alien clan. How your world had turned upside down.

“Yes,” you hissed out and stared down at the ground. “I do, okay?”

The couch groaned underneath her as she got up. Instantly, your head whipped up and watched as she made her way over to you. Everything just froze in your mind again, unable to think of way to escape or anything of the sort.

As she stopped before you, she reached out with her hand cupped your chin. Your first reaction was to flinch, but her touch was soft. “Why?” she demanded and tilted your head up to look her in the eye.

A defensive streak rose inside of you. Why did she have to question everything you did? “He was my first love. It felt like true love at first sight,” I said and tried to keep a neutral expression on my face. I didn’t need her to be anger at anything I said.

She hummed once more. A few muscles on your face twitched. Her thumbed swiped along your cheek and drew your attention to something shining on the finger. A tear. You were crying. Why? To save what left over dignity, you tore your head from her grasp. There wasn’t anywhere else to go though so you just stayed against the wall, arms crossed.

“Oomans are so foolish.” You curled more in on yourself. “Love at first sight? There’s no such thing. It is something to nurture and help flourish.” If you had it in you, you would’ve barked out a laugh. As if she or her kind knew of care and kindness.

Rough around the edges. The inside, worse. Just a cactus where their hearts should be. Ugly, heartless, and homewrecker. You kept a heady stare on the floor and grumbled out inaudible words. Not that she would care.

All you wanted was to go home! Fresh, hot tears steered down the lengths of your cheeks and darkened the cloth of your shirt. You bit your tongue; silence was the best answer to any argument. Because it stopped them. She can keep stating her case, breaking your already shattered heart. Here you are, staying quiet and knowing everything she said was the truth. You were foolish and stupid. Look where it got you.

A warm hand tipped your head back up to be face to face with We’ar-ow once more. Your gaze still cast downwards, no matter what she did. The Yautja sighed, a rough sound on your ears, and dropped her head. Then picked her massive head back up to look at you. Her pupils boring an unnecessary hole into you. “I see you have come to realize the truth.”

And the truth hurt. Your bottom lip wobbled.

“That male never cared about you. Not truly. Not the way you wanted. You were something new to his young mind, a new toy if you must. The novelty worn off when realized a ooman mate will diminish his chances of producing a strong bloodline.” Every single word of hers was a gut wrenching, heart tearing, punch to where it hurts most.

Your shoulders trembling at the first sob. Once the damn broke, it was hard to stop. The stress of it all was caving in on you after one beam fell. Your knees gave out and forcing you to drop to the ground. From there, you sobbed your heart out in front of someone you didn’t trust. You backed yourself against the wall and curled as tightly into a ball that was possible.

We’ar-ow stood tall above you, unsure on what to do, arms limp at her sides. Slowly, as if she was hunting, she lowered herself to her haunches, still towering in height and size.

“I wa-was nothing more, more than a play, plaything to him!” you cried into your thighs, body shaking with each pathetic weep. That year with him meant nothing! Nothing to him. While it was thought to be the best time of your life… you were only blinded by the lies and façade.

Coarse, rough skin petted the top of your head and ran down to the base of your neck. You were shocked out of your cryfest as the pain of the mark being touched and hissed. In reaction, you snapped your head up and pinned the limb against the wall. But, that caused it to hurt worse. You jerked away from the wall and reached back to gentle poke at the now blazing mark.

In a whirlwind of emotions and unstable mindset, you snapped at We’ar-ow. “Why did you fucking touch it?!” The mark had scabbed over during the healing process but the skin around it was still sensitive and sore. “You don’t know shit!”

She just sat there, on her haunches, only raising a singular brow at you. “I do not?” she questioned lowly, face revealing nothing of her emotions. You didn’t know what to be more scared after the raging emotions died. Unable to know what she was feeling or how calm those three words came out. You swallowed thickly and curled back into a frightful ball. Maybe she’ll just get this over with and kill you.

Something warm rested under your jaw and forced it up once more. But you don’t look the predator in the eye. That. That is a death sentence. “Pet, I asked you a question.” Again!? Seriously? You could just feel the need to sob your heart out all over again. Why does she keep calling you that? Why not your name? Or something more human than ‘pet’?

For all the energy you had left, you simply just nodded your head. We’ar-ow did not understand your feelings for Dwainet. She never will.

The Yautja simply made a ‘hmpf’ sound and barely nodded her head in thought. “Why do you think that?” she asked. Another question to force you to respond, in any way. Your eyes clenched shut and pushed out any leftover tears. Then, you gulped and took a deep breath.

“I’ve been around your kind long enough. You are a rude, inconceivable species with not a single centimeter of space for love. You, out of everyone, don’t know a single thing about my situation!” Your voice grew in volume the longer you talked. Not that you meant for that to happen.

With her long tongue, the pink Yautja was able to click her tongue and shook her head. The hand under your chin slid against your skin to rest upon your cheek this time. “When I had first found you, my dear ooman, you were a mess of emotions and sorrow. That tells me enough. My age comes into play next. I’m older than you think, gaining experience through my years. I do understand, ooman.”

You snorted through your nose and glared from underneath your brows up at her. We’ar-ow leaned in close, enough for her breath to fan across your wet face. “Why do you think I’ve taken you in as my pet?” Your body tensed, frozen in thought before your shoulders shrugged.

One of her upper mandibles lifted. Her long, pink tongue slithered out and licked up a stripe of your salty tears. “You’ll find out in time.” You jerked your head back only to smack it against the wall behind you, upper lip curling up. We’ar-ow chuckled.

Without a word, you silently pouted and stayed on the ground. We’ar-ow stood back up and offered a hand to you. “Come along, pet.” You scowled at the name but took up on her offer. Just using a sliver of her strength, she pulls you up to your feet. You were yanked up, not expecting the sudden strength or move. The action caused you to bump into her.

One of her arms settled between your shoulder blades and held you steady against the warmth of her body. Blazing heat flashed across your cheeks and raced up to the tips of your ears. You swallowed thickly, entirely form tense and unwilling to move. Neither did she.

The entire time, her gaze was tilted down at you. An alien grin growing on her mandibles, minute. In the state of shock, you didn’t even have time to see it on her features. It was gone as you took all the space you could away from her, back against the wall once more. You took a deep breath in, cleared your throat, and finally looked the predator in the eye. “Where are we going?” you spoke, voice different than before.

We’ar-ow let her arm fall limp to at her side, her eyes still trained on your meek, nervous form. “Out. I have more things to finish before the end of the cycle,” she explained, observed you for a few extra seconds before turning about face and heading towards the door. A scowl fell upon your features at the notion of going out there once more. Paraded as her damn pet.

From the safety of being behind her, you glared fiery daggers at the Yautja and wished you could throttle her. Then, you took the needed steps to catch up to We’ar-ow. The two of you were out the door and shortly on your way to wherever.

The halls weren’t overflowing with the aliens. Today seemed to have calmed down after the season had ended officially. Everyone tired out after the last two weeks had everyone’s hormones thrown into a whirlwind. One that got you caught up in this mess of trouble and rage.

During the entirety of her strutting, you promptly stayed at her six and used her shadows to hide. Pathetic, even with how little Yautjas there were roaming. After everything that has occurred, staying as safe as possible was a necessity to your survival. You don’t know who will challenge the Monarch, as stupid as they would be, for your head. Oomans aren’t well liked upon the predatory species as you’ve come to learn. But here you were, in the lions den with the leader of tribe as your protector. All it takes is one person…

A familiar color caught your eye, feet faulting for a couple of seconds. You accidentally trip over air, barely saving yourself an embarrassing face plant in front of everyone… including Dwainet. Without truly thinking about it, you rushed to catch up once more to the pink Yautja. Your eyes prompt finding the dark metal grey floors far more interesting than the burning rage glare pinned on you.

Cliché enough but if looks could kill, the heat from his gaze would burn hotter than a sun. Death, instantaneously.

One look couldn’t be helped. Eyes flickering for just a millisecond, one too long. You took note that his eyes weren’t on your own. Instead… a little lower, towards your neck. Instinctively, you reached up to touch at the warm leather wrapped peacefully there. A constant reminder to who owned you. If looks could kill… We’ar-ow would be thrown out an airlock and forgotten about.

After that shorter, hair-raising encounter, you stuck to We’ar-ow’s backside like glue. The Yautja didn’t need a leash to keep you this close to her. Just straight terror of what your ex-lover might do to you. Especially learn what had happened to him. He had to be seething from the limited knowledge you had about his species.

The hallway you were taking seemed familiar. Somewhat at least. You scrapped through your mind to remember where this was leading you. Before you had a chance, We’ar-ow stopped in front of a door and imputed a code. Your eyes snapped to her movement, only catching the last three pushes. Three, not bad out of the six you believed was the length of her code.

It opened up to reveal the grand throne room. We’ar-ow marched into the room at her normal strutting pace. Once more, you were left to scramble after her. The Monarch took each step up to the throne chair with pride. You watched as the calm, relaxed Yautja morphed into the leader of her clan. Her face no longer as causal, eyes slightly hooded over as she looked down on the empty space before her.

On the other hand, you went to the spot you had sat at before. Only to notice a soft, plush cushion in place. Despite her gaze on the purple carpet before her, you looked over at her. You were hesitant to sit down on the pillow, unsure if this was the purpose of it. Or something to taunt you with.

A subtle nod came from the Yautja. You released the breath you were holding and thanked to whatever god could hear you for this offering before sitting down.

Instead of the harsh, back breaking metal that once met your bottom, the cushion offered support and relief. You sat easily on the large pillow and crossed your legs, knees bent to sit comfortably. It was definitely an upgrade compared to last time. All you had to do now was somehow find a way to entertain yourself for the time being. Unfortunately.

Yet, something was thrusted into your vision. Your head jerked back, nearly falling backwards and stared at what looked to be a tablet. We’ar-ow held it out, bright iris peering at you from the corner of her eye.

When you didn’t grab it in a reasonable amount of time, she moved it closer to while wiggling it as well. Timidly, you reached out and took the device from her. “Thanks,” you mumbled and inspected the tablet. It wasn’t anything fancy or spectacular but tapping the screen caused it to light up.

From there, you dove more into finding what the item could do in your favor. Plowing through time without even noticing.

It wasn’t until a foot was nudging against your numb legs you uncurled from your shrimp position. We’ar-ow stood before you, regel as ever. You blinked a few times before catching onto what she wants from you. Shutting off the screen and holding the tablet to your chest, you unsteadily got up, legs barely listening to your command.

Like clockwork, the duo had returned back to We’ar-ow’s room. The Yautja walked into the kitchen and sifted through things to gather a couple of items. The entire time, you observed her movements, taking notice how she carries herself while in the privacy of her quarters. Different, relax, causal.

“Are you hungry?” We’ar-ow’s words break you from your thoughts. You shook your head to clear any lingering thoughts.

“Y-yeah, a little,” you voiced and stepped into the living room. Just enough space for We’ar-ow and limited guests if she invites any over. That made you question internally if the Yautja had anything close to a friend. The society of her species highly varies from your own. Was there friendship? Was there relationships? Was there love?

No. There couldn’t be. Not after Dwainet. He taught you his kind was built for love. Just a species morphed to kill. Kill everything in their path, even those who cared about them.

You found yourself settling down on a single person seat that easily engulfed your human body. The tablet was laid comfortably in your lap as you continued to play, mess with it if you must. The things you learned currently were far more helpful than ever.

A map, cameras. All that was needed to show you where their ships were docked, where there was airlocks, emergency escape pods. Everything. From the months you projected to surviving on this ship suddenly turned to days, weeks at most. Freedom was in sight. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel. And it was beautiful.

A plate of assorted fruits/vegetables was placed on the side tablet next to you. We’ar-ow posted her frame to lean against the armrest and peered over you. “Does this give enrichment?” The translator struggled for a moment to find the right word for last part of her sentence.

Nonverbally, you dipped your head as you used an app of sorts to access the internet. Their internet. Strings of Yautja covered the screen, nothing legible. The implant translator only worked with speech, not text. You haven’t found a way to change the language. If there was a way to switch to English…

The Yautja hummed before leaning, showering you in her body heat and pressing a couple of buttons on the screen. Then, voila! Magic. Yautja changed to English in a blink of an eye. “I swear… that male failed you more ways than just the five I count.”

“I have the translator implanted,” you retorted mindlessly and explored the new mode revealed to you. We’ar-ow scoffed once more and used a sharp nail to tap at mentioned device.

“My point still stands.” How much you believe that? Zero. As you’ve come to learn quickly, there was no arguing with her. Instead, you just stayed glued to the tablet and partially ignoring the huge Yautja next to you.

Said predator finally stalked off after a few minutes of watching you. Thankfully. Now, it was time to see what their internet consisted of.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #We'ar-ow

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