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reiderwriter · 9 months

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The Lightbulb Moment

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff but a little bit suggestive at the end.

Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.

Word Count: 4.8k (I love idiots in love...)

Warnings: secret relationship, mentions of hickeys, kissing and heavy petting but no actual smut (a little suggestive and fade to black). Minor character is a misogynist prick and gets his nose broken, though.

A/N: I need everyone to know that this is absolutely inspired by the very first episode of OHSHC. I don't think I will elaborate further. This is also my first fluff, so if you want to see more like this my requests are open!~

My Masterlist✨

Walking into the BAU’s Quantico offices was a simple part of your daily schedule. You usually drove your car from your house to the parking complex, took the elevator up to your floor, put your bag down on your desk and moved immediately to the office kitchen to make yourself an appropriately large mug of coffee. Today, however, you drove your car from Spencer’s apartment, after quite the pleasant night together. The two of you had agreed weeks before to keep your relationship as private as you could.

Which meant that you were now in the office, trying your best to hide both your hickeys and your micro-expressions in a room that was about to fill up with extremely observant FBI profilers.

The turtle-neck sweater was a classic but effective aid, and when paired with the piping hot mug of coffee you were making yourself, you were hoping to feign an oncoming cold of some kind to escape any scrutiny. Spencer had left an hour earlier than you, knowing that it took him longer to commute alone on the metro than it took you in your car, which was probably the best thing for the two of you right now, as after last night, you wanted the whole undivided attention of his hands and his mouth on you.

Taking one last deep breath you walked into the office, and were greeted by the sight of two more new arrivals, your beautiful boyfriend and SSA Derek Morgan. Thankfully, the marks you’d left on Spencer's back the night before were easy to hide under his usual sweater-vest-shirt combo, as he'd probably have a harder time explaining those away. You wrapped your work blazer a little tighter around you and made your way to your desk.

“That’s a big cup of coffee you got there, angel. You have a long night?” Morgan says as you sit down in your seat, trying your best to look at anything but Spencer.

“A long night with a bottle of nyquil and three layers of blankets, if that’s what you mean, yeah.” You shoot back, praying he takes the bait.

“Aww, that sucks sweet-pea. If you need anything, let our resident Doctor know, I’m sure he’ll do his best to make sure you're in peak physical condition once again.” Morgan mocks the younger male, before walking off to his desk.

You happen a glance over at Spencer, and he’s sporting the cutest little blush you’ve ever seen, not needing to hide his embarrassment at the insinuations of his friend.

The two of you share a quick glance, but don’t have to say much else when Hotch walks out of his office announcing there’s another case.

“Meeting room in ten, wheels up immediately after, we've got a serial in Washington State that requires our attention.”

You sigh in relief knowing that a case will be a great way to distract you from somehow messing this up and you grab your stuff and head to the meeting room. Before you can get there though, Rossi cuts you off at the door.

“A word of advice, if I may,” he says, letting your other team members pass in front of him on their way into the briefing before grabbing your attention.

“Sure, why not?” You reply, curious about what the man has to say.

“I’ve never heard of a cold that causes bruising behind your ear. I’d suggest you take yourself and your make-up bag to the bathroom to cover that up.”

You feel yourself grow hot. You’d thought you’d got them all covered with the turtleneck but you had a limited range of vision. Cursing under your breath, you tried to explain to your senior coworker but again he cut off before you could.

“No, I’m not gonna say anything else. Just tell the kid to keep it classy next time, if your gonna wine and dine a lady, you don’t need to make her neck dessert.” You blanched now, all of your previous redness running out of your body.

“You know?”

“I’m very good at my job. However, whatever this is is none of my business, so please, don’t make it my business again any time soon, okay?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll just go down now. Could you-” you gestured vaguely to the meeting room where all your close coworkers were taking their seats, and the older man smiled back at you.

“Consider it done.” You thanked your lucky stars that it was Rossi who had spotted it first, and made a mental note to send Spencer a quick message before you got on the jet.

Y/N: Busted by Rossi. Next time, don’t go full vampire on me. Okay Doc? That was like getting the talk from my dad, but somehow worse.

–X–

After a week in Washington, you wrapped up your case fairly quickly. The flight was long, so you were very much looking forward to finishing the documentation for the case and heading back to your apartment for some much needed alone time with Reid.

The entire week you’d been in the field interviewing witnesses and suspects, and he’d been stuck inside making geographical profiles and aiding Garcia with undigitized file information. It hadn’t helped things that you’d ended up stuck sharing rooms, you with Emily and JJ in one room and him sharing with Hotch, of all people, so you couldn't even sneak out at night to meet each other without arousing suspicion.

It had taken all of your strength not to climb onto the long bench next to him on the Jet and just melt into him, letting the long journey ahead lull you into some much needed sleep. You forced yourself to the other end of the jet, picking up a blanket you’d stored there previously and forcing yourself to shut your eyes.

When you landed, you practically launched yourself off the plane, so eager to get back to your car and drive all the way to your house. But fate had other ideas.

“Everyone, take the rest of the day off, but I want to see you bright and early monday morning working on the required paperwork. Reid, Y/L/N, can you stick around for an extra ten minutes? I just have some supplementary questions I need to ask you.” Hotch announced to the team and you felt your freedom escaping from you once again.

You made it calmly to Hotch’s office, following both your boss and your boyfriend, unsure of where this conversation was going to go.

You sat down on the sofa, and watched as Hotch pulled out two sets of documents.

“I’m not asking questions, and frankly I don’t want to know. But this is standard for all workplace relationships, so I need you to fill out these forms and submit them back to me ASAP.” He said the words calmly, but you felt the panic rise in your chest.

“Did Rossi say something to you?” Spencer managed to recover quicker than you could, neither confirming nor denying your entanglement to your boss.

“No, actually…” Hotch seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure of whether to continue or not. “You talk in your sleep, Reid. You talk quite loudly in your sleep.”

Your head snapped up to your boyfriend and you came face to face with a look of mortification. You heard him mumble a curse under his breath, before he grabbed the papers from Hotch, handing you one quickly.

You filled them out in silence as quickly as possible, trying to not let the blush on your face deepen, and entirely grateful that Hotch was busy ignoring that the conversation had ever happened now, back at his desk filling out his own paperwork.

Spencer grabbed your papers from you when you were finished, put them together with his silently on the older man’s desk, grabbed your hand and swiftly walked you out of the office.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m used to sharing the room with Morgan and you know he sleeps like the dead.” He apologised, but the look on his face was so cute, you couldn’t help but tease him.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” you smirk up at him. “You have got to tell me exactly what that dream was about. I'm very curious”

–X–

After both Rossi and Hotchner had guessed at the nature of your relationship within the space of a week, you were a bit on edge around the office. But a month of busy cases (and thankfully no more room sharing incidents) had restored your confidence in your lying capabilities. You almost felt guilty now, hiding the best part of your life from some of the most important people in your life. But you chose to keep being selfish, knowing that the side of Spencer that you were witnessing now was yours and yours alone.

Basically, you grew over-confident, and when you grew over-confident, you grew sloppy.

After coming back from a particularly rewarding case, a stalking case that you managed to solve before the unsub could turn from attempted murderer to murderer, you went out to celebrate with the team. Hotch and Rossi had begged off again, and Morgan had excused himself because he was giving a self-defence talk the next day at Quantico and didn’t want to show up still suffering from the night before.

So, at the behest of Emily and Garcia, you found Reid was swiftly uninvited, and the team celebration turned into a Girls’ Night Out. It had been a while since you’d been able to let loose, having spent practically every weekend between yours and Reid’s apartments, so you were determined to make the most of the night.

You blame Garcia really. JJ had survived two rounds, but had retreated back to her husband and child when she saw the drinking getting out of hand. Emily had been on virgin drinks the entire night, because she’d drawn the short straw and ended up the designated driver.

Which left you and the wonderful Penelope Garcia going toe-to-toe, or more realistically, tequila-to-tequila as you not so healthily egged each other on. By 1am, Emily had to make the executive decision to put Garcia in a taxi, knowing she would at least be able to function on her own, whilst you were sat like a little mess in the other woman’s arms.

“Emillleeeee!” You giggled as the brunette helped you into her car. “You’re sooooo strong, Emileeeeeeeeee. I love you, y'know.”

“Yeah, Y/N. I gathered that the last time you told me.” She laughed back at you, knowing that she was going to absolutely let you know everything that was said and done that night in the morning.

“Wanna know whoz also realllllllly strong?” You giggled and slapped your hands over your mouth like a schoolgirl talking about her crush.

“Oh, yeah? Go ahead and tell me.”

“Ssspencer,” you said his name and your entire face flushed, “Spencie is really strong.”

Emily rolled her eyes at you, assuming for the time being that you were too drunk to understand what you were saying.

But her reaction obviously didn’t satisfy your drunk self enough, because you pouted a little and then continued.

“Sss true! He’s so strong when he lifts me up and holds me against the wall, it’s so fuckin gooood, Emilleeeeee.”

“Y/N! You're talking about Reid here, I doubt the boy could even hold a girl's hand without breaking a sweat. Let's go get you to bed." She shot back in disbelief.

“You don’t believe me? He is strong, look I can show you the bruises he left on my hips the last time we-”

“OH MY GOD, please stop talking.” Emily cut you off before she heard something she really didn’t want to hear. Still half in disbelief, thinking you were just so far into your cups you’d reached the horny level of alcoholism, she pulled into your apartment complex and quickly helped you out of the car.

“Emilleeeee, don’t leave me!!” You giggled out as she practically frog-marched you to your front door, having commandeered your keys earlier. Before she had the chance to use them however, the door was swinging open, and there was Spencer, in the door, realising he’d just made a huge mistake.

"Would you believe me if I said I were explicitly for work purposes?" He stuttered hopefully, seeing the shell-shocked look on his coworkers face.

“Oh god, she wasn’t lying, was she?” Emily managed to eke out in horror, the thought of the man who was practically her little brother doing anything sexual with anyone sending shivers down her spine.

He didn’t have to reply, however, because you chose that exact moment to launch yourself at your boyfriend wrapping your legs around his waist as he did his best not to tumble over, as your mouth started working its way down his throat.

“Shit,” he grunted out, still unsure about how to handle the situation. “Emily, let’s just pretend you never saw this, deal?”

“Yeah, okay, I think I can do that.” She turned away swiftly, but turned back to add on one final statement, looking almost impressed.

“You know I really didn’t think you were strong enough to do all of that. Huh, wonders abound.”

–X–

Your devastating hangover the next day saved you from the embarrassment of reliving the more scandalous details of your Girls’ Night adventures, but on the parts that Reid filled you in on, you were mortified to say the least.

“I fucked up so bad,” you groaned in pain the next morning in bed with Spencer.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he did his best to reassure you, but you silenced him with one look. “Okay maybe it was that bad, but Emily isn’t going to say anything. So we just continue as usual, right?”

You groaned again, but said no more and burrowed your face further into your partner's chest, hoping that the painkillers he’d bought you earlier that morning would take you out of your misery soon.

But there is no rest for the wicked and not even an hour later you find yourself in an FBI vehicle heading to a police station.

Your sour mood is noted by every single one of your coworkers, but evidently not some of the locals that you’re working with on the case in question. You notice them gawking at the female members of your team almost immediately as you walk into the precinct, and once again you wish you were back in bed away from these creeps. Can a girl not get some peace and quiet on a Saturday morning?

One of them in particular seems hellbent on making his harassment of the three of you a full time fucking job. He gives up on JJ quickly when she mentions her son (“asshole,” you think to yourself), and when he realises that Emily is a bit too dominant for him, he quickly loses interest in her too (“coward”). Which leaves him with all the time in the world to dedicate his energy to you.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, anything you need a big strong man to help you with?” The officer smiles down at you, practically begging you to punch him in the face.

Luckily, his sleeziness doesn’t go unnoticed by both Reid and Morgan, and they make sure to keep you within earshot the entire day, the three of you reading up on the victims' backgrounds whilst your other coworkers head to the crime scene.

“Sorry, chump, if I needed the help of a strong man, there's about five people I’d call before you - and two of them are women.” You shoot back, unwilling to stomach the bullshit of a uniform when you’re trying to do your job.

“Easy now, pretty lady, very high tension today, aren’t we?” He smirks down at you, hand on your chair, almost the perfect distance away for you to headbutt, but you choose to ignore him looking back down at your work. He backs off slightly before trying again.

“Come on now, I’m sure I could do something about that. Maybe fuck that tension right out of you?" And that’s your last straw.

Morgan almost prides himself on having the foresight to grab you before you can launch yourself at the man, ready to scratch his eyes out if he takes it even one step further. What he didn’t see coming at all was Reid throwing the punch first, connecting directly with the chauvinistic officer's nose and flooring him.

“Son of a bitch, I'm not sure I know any woman who'd want to touch you with a ten-foot pole, much less my fucking girlfriend." He seethes out, and Morgan is almost too stunned to speak. He releases you from his grip, and you run to Reid, making note of the way you instantly slot into Reid’s arms, like you were meant to be there.

“Damn pretty boy, nice hit,” is all he can get out, still a little shocked that the two of you had managed to hide this from him for so long.

“You bwoke my noise…” the officer rolled on the floor in pain.

“You’re lucky it was me and not her. And for the record, she's only 'high-tension' because we got interrupted this morning to come and help your sorry ass with a case,” Spencer seethed at the man, only now noticing that his knuckles weren’t faring too well either.

“As entertaining as this is, that's enough, Reid. You take your man and clean him up, Y/L/N, I got this one here, okay?” Morgan swiftly gave you orders, and you let out a sigh of gratitude, knowing that Morgan was going to make sure you got minimal reprimands for this.

“Oh and by the way you two,” he smirked at you a little as you made your way out. “Congratulations.”

–X–

In the name of keeping your relationship to yourself, the two of you had, so far, nearly gotten suspended, filled Emily in on some of the raunchier parts of your sex life, and accidentally shared some of those same details with your Unit Chief to boot. Your only saving grace was that, because you’d sworn everyone to secrecy, and they all seemed to pride themselves on smuggly keeping the information to themselves, they hadn’t started using you as an office-wide conversation started just yet.

All-in-all though you’d needed some time out of the office to relax for a bit, so when JJ came to you at the last minute with a plea for help asking for you to possibly babysit Henry the next night, you’d gladly accepted. Babysitting may seem like a lot of work, but seeing that little angel's face only brought you peace of mind, despite his mother’s protestations that he was only that well behaved for other people.

You were honestly looking forward to spending the night playing with the kid, and you decided it was about time you showed him some classic kids movies, as you packed both Toy Story and The Lion King ready for a fort film night! You were so excited, in fact, that you forgot your previous arrangement with Reid.

“Hey, Y/N, about ready to go? Thanks again for agreeing to carpool out with me tonight, you know how crowded the metro gets on friday nights.” He winks at you, using your regular cover for your biweekly date night, as your stomach drops.

“Oh god, Spencer I totally forgot. I told JJ I’d watch Henry for her tonight, so I’m heading there straight after work so I can watch him whilst she gets ready for dinner with Will.” You guiltily look up at the man whose face has fallen into the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, hey, no problem, it’s okay, tell Henry I said hello.”

Overhearing this, and seeing her friend's obvious disappointment, JJ jumped into the conversation quickly.

“Hey, why don’t you come over as well, Spence? Henry’s been saying he missed his Uncle Spencer, and I was going to order a pizza for Y/N anyways, if you want that?” She suggested, looking between the two of you.

“I bought movies as well?” You added, hoping desperately that he’d say yes, even if you weren’t acting the most subtle about your feelings for him.

“Sure, thanks for that JJ. Let me just grab my jacket.”

Four hours later and the two of you were all played out. You’d entertained incessantly for the first hour, Henry desperately excited to show both of you each and every toy he’d acquired since you’d last been at his house. When the doorbell rang and the pizza arrived, he hadn’t lost steam, and it took you putting on the first of your movies of the night to get him to drop his toys and focus on the pizza and the plot.

And of course, you’d gone and promised him two movies at the beginning of the night, so after wrestling him into pyjamas and making him brush his teeth, you were finally resting again on the sofa. Reid sat at one end, you at the other, with Henry’s sleeping head in your lap, you stroking the little guy's hair.

“I think, and don’t quote me on this, that he’s asleep now, Y/N.” Spencer whispered to you over the movie.

“I know, he just looks so comfortable I don’t want to move him.” You pout at him, looking down at the sleeping angel in your arms.

“Hey, it’s not fair he’s getting all of your attention.”

“Spencer Reid, are you telling me you're jealous of a child right now?” You asked him in a mockingly shocked tone as he stood up from his side of the couch and came closer to you, placing one hand on the arm rest beside you and the other on the couch cushion behind you, effectively boxing you in.

“If I say yes, will you stroke my hair like that?” He smiled down at you, closing the distance between the two of you and giving you the softest sweetest kiss you could have asked for.

When he pulls back you find your lips following his, wanting more, but he just laughs at you and pulls Henry out of your arms, cradling him softly as he carries him upstairs to bed as you think to yourself that you’d do anything to see that scene every night of your life.

On Monday morning, JJ pulls you aside to thank you again, bringing you some of the chocolates she knows you like to show you her appreciation.

“He was a little angel, JJ. A bit energetic and excited but he was so sweet and sat with me the entire way through the movie before he fell asleep.” You gushed about the baby, happily holding your gift.

“You know that little angel did ask me something pretty interesting at breakfast the next morning.” JJ smiles at you, and you encourage her to keep going.

“He asked me if mommy and daddy kiss because they love each other, and so of course we said yes, that we love each other very much, and you know what he said after that?” She laughed a little, and you could feel your cheeks getting hot as you knew you’d been busted once again.

“He said that he was happy because that meant Uncle Spencer and Auntie Y/N must love each other a lot, too.”

You covered your blushing cheeks, not even trying to stammer out a response, knowing that JJ had probably interrogated little Henry about what he’d seen when feigning sleep the weekend before.

“Relax, Y/N, no harm done. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re good for him. He seems a lot,” she paused to think of the right word before continuing, “a lot more like himself than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

You try to hold in the tears that threaten to spill from the touching words, as you stammer out a small thank you.

Another team member knew now, but that had to have been the most successful way you'd revealed your relationship to date.

--X–

This had to have been the worst way you’d revealed your relationship to date.

It was a slow day of office work in the BAU with no consultation case coming up just yet. And with the majority of your paperwork done, you really were just trying your best to stay entertained around the office before you could clock out and go home.

So when you received a message from Spencer that read “copy room down the hall, five minutes,” your interest was piqued enough to make you run there immediately, not even waiting for the appointed time.

You opened the door slightly and a hand shot out and pulled you in so quickly that you almost lost your balance, your hands pushing up against Spencer’s chest as he slammed the door shut as quietly as possible.

“And what are we doing here, Doctor Reid?” You smirked up at him as you felt his arms tighten around your waist, his hands trailing up and down your back before coming to rest a little lower than before.

“Thought you could use a midday pick me up.” He smirked back leaning down to connect your lips, slowly at first, but gaining a feverish speed.

You were only so happy to give back just as you gave, your hands finding their way up to his hair, pushing your chest forward and up against his own, needing to feel closer to him than you had all day.

He gave your ass a swift slap and used your resulting gasp to force his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His mouth not leaving yours for even one second, he walked you backwards until your back hit the makeshift file shelving in the small storage closet. Lifting your leg around his waist he pressed closer into you, and finally removed his mouth from yours before swiftly returning it to your neck to continue his ministrations. He removed one hand from your ass, and worked his way underneath your top to your chest beginning to massage you there as he made to push your bra away from your now aching nipples.

Before he could do so however, the door swung open:

“Reid are you in here- oh holy mother of god.” As soon as the door opened to show the figure of Penelope Garcia standing in the door the two of you jumped away from each other like randy school kids just caught clumsily making out on school grounds. Which you supposed you technically were.

“Are you and your lady friend decent, Doctor, can I remove my hand from my eyes now and live a long and healthy life?” She squeaked out, in surprise, her hands firmly blocking everything from view.

She hadn’t seen you just yet, but there was no getting around this.

“Yes, Penny, you can open your eyes,” you almost winced after you straightened your clothes quickly.

“Y/N!?! With Reid?!” She quickly squeaked out, gaining the notice of a nearby Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss who came rushing in as soon as they heard the frantic tone of their favourite tech analyst's voice.

“I can explain, Pen, please let’s just get out of this closet,” you tried to reason but she was still so shocked she wouldn’t listen.

“Derek, Y/N and Reid!” She motioned vaguely between the two of you.

“I know baby girl, I know.” He tried to reassure her but he couldn’t quite keep the amused look off of his face.

“You KNEW? That Y/N and Reid are getting all hot and heavy in the supply closets now? Emily, are you hearing the words coming from this beautiful man's mouth because I think I have walked into an alternate dimension and I need someone to please bring me back to my real one.” She gasped out.

“Actually, Penelope, I knew too. I think we all did actually.” Emily softly explained.

“You traitors!” she spun around to face the two of you again, and now that she’d calmed down a little, you’d found yourself gravitating towards Reid a little until he’d pulled you into a shy side hug.

“Look at them! They’re canoodling all happily in one of my supply closets, and they didn’t think to share the happy news with me!” She groaned out in faux anger. “Why did you tell Mister Action Man and Little Miss Faked Her Death here before me! Come on, I'm not that untrustworthy!”

“Actually, we didn’t technically tell anyone.” Reid managed to finally get out between Penelope’s moans of anguish, that stupid little smirk you loved so much playing on his face.

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning back to face your three coworkers. “I guess they all just had light bulb moments, and realised themselves, right?”

“God, stop being so cute and in love, it’s making me want to forgive you too easily.” Penelope joked, and you all let out a quiet laugh before deciding to remove yourself from the situation.

“Okay, I’m fine with being the last to know about this, but you better make Aunty Penelope the first in line to hear about any future Baby Geniuses, do you hear me?”

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throneofsapphics · 6 months

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the ebb and flow of fate part 3

(part one) (part two) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: Then they looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing before their expressions shifted back to neutral as they turned to examine the surrounding area. As they turned their backs on her, right when she wanted them most. A tear finally dripped down her cheek.

Warnings: injuries, blood, poison, references to past sa, death, angst

Word Count: ~5.2k

A/N: sorry this took so long!

She paced back and forth in her bedroom, wearing a track in the wood. Overreacting.

How does she fix this?

Wait. She paused. This isn’t her job to fix it. If they’re going to act like misogynistic, overbearing males and blame her for her sexual assault, she’s not going to give them the time of day. If they’re going to blame her for that, they don’t deserve her friendship..

Tears filled her eyes, as she turned to gaze at the mirror. Her hair was dull, skin pale, eyes almost … haunted. This wouldn’t do. A few deep breaths later, and she came up with a plan to get her life back.

You can explain it, a soft feminine voice whispered in her ear. It might have been Azriel who said the words, but she knew Cassian believed them as well. They betrayed her in their own way, and she wouldn’t run to them pleading.

If they really cared, they’d ask. She replied silently. The voice hummed.

Her mind came back to Azriel’s threat. Don’t leave Velaris. She could play by his rules for now. Maybe even take a bit of revenge in her own way.

She went out to Rita’s that night, reconnecting with a few of her friends. Lights flashed overhead as they danced, matching each other shot for shot. Thank the mother she has good tolerance.

That night, she took out a piece of paper and tried to focus her blurred eyes. Play by the rules.

One male looked at my ass for a secmpd.

A female tolded me i’m preeeety.

Is that a danermeous situatomn? According two you it isss.

She frowned down at the sheet. The words were barely legible, but he’d understand them. Play by the rules. A laugh left her as she folded the paper into fours, filled with messy creases.

She stumbled out of her room, kicking her heels off before she left, still wearing the short and tight dress from earlier in the night. Her feet carried her down the hallway, the world swaying as she walked.

She heard him, and slid the paper under the door, making her way back to her room as quickly as possible.

Azriel opened the door, spotting a drunk y/n trailing down the hallway, holding onto the wall. He knew she’d gone out, but how much had she drunk? He crouched and picked up the messily folded paper. Her scent combined with alcohol flooded through him. This couldn’t be good.

He closed his eyes after he read over the words. This is how she’s going to play. He should’ve known. A male looking at her ass. A female telling her she’s pretty. No threats, the bargain mark didn’t prick at him, but she was doing this to make a point.

“Fucking brat.” He cursed under his breath.

“Who?” Cassian asked from across the room, crossing to meet him at the door. He wordlessly passed the paper.

Something between frustration and amusement crossed the other male’s face. “We should frame this.”

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms with her.” They’d ignored each other for weeks now, and he knew Cassian was aching to speak to her - to clear the air and get back to their tentative friendship. But, she didn’t seem to give a damn. Going out of her way to avoid them, even training with Mor. If she wanted to play that game, he’d gladly participate.

She’s the one who all but broke their bargain. He doesn’t owe her any apologies.

Why didn’t you leave? His own words echoed, the broken look in her eyes took over his mind. She knows him well enough to know he didn’t mean that. He wouldn’t need to actually explain that, right? It could open up conversations none of them are ready for.

Weeks passed, a few more notes - none of which got any kind of reaction from his bargain tattoo. The male had only sent one letter - in response to a strongly worded one sent by Rhysand. A half-assed apology he didn’t let her see. It wasn’t genuine, and maybe she was better off leaving this in the past. Part of him questioned if he should be making those decisions for her, but he was busy enough with work he could push that down.

Two months had passed since the … incident, and she made her way down the hall. It was a day off for her, and she’d spend it out in the city, going through the various markets. Some fresh air would do her good - sun on her skin, and time away from the confines of the library. Her hair had some of its shine returned, her skin not quite as pale as before, and a bit of new life breathed into her eyes. She felt more like herself than she had in months.

Of course, she still missed the two Illyrians. But - they made zero effort to approach her, and she returned in kind.

She paused outside of the doorway to her cousin’s office. Three heartbeats. A new shield she’d experimented with hid her sound and presence completely, and their voices escaped into the hallway, clear as day.

“Why are you avoiding her?” Rhys asked. She should leave, right now. Eavesdropping couldn’t lead to anything good.

“Avoiding who?” Cassian hedged.

An exasperated sigh came from Rhys. “Y/n.”

“We don’t owe her anything. She’s nothing to us.”

Rhys snarled, she felt his power even from here.

“Azriel,” Cassian said in a warning tone.

Nothing. She left now. The damage was done. At least she knows exactly where she stands with them.

In her distraction, the shield dropped and her heavy footsteps echoed as she broke into a run.

Cassian whirled as he heard the footsteps. How had he not detected her approach earlier? Rhys’s power was still rumbling through the room.

“I didn’t mean that.” Azriel said quietly. But, she was too far gone to hear that.

“We need to find her.” Cassian fought to ignore the pure dominance rumbling from Rhys - the overwhelming power threatening to bring him to his knees. It abated, slowly.

“I don’t think she’ll want to see us.” Azriel countered.

“Tell me what the fuck happened between you.” Rhys all but ordered.

They exchanged a glance. “You know about the letters.” Rhys nodded. They’d only shown him what she’d hidden and he could put the rest of the pieces together.

“We … said things we regret.” At least he does, he can’t speak for Azriel. He’d seen her in the kitchen that day, and turned his back on her. There was more that happened Azriel hadn’t told him about. As much as he pushed, he was a stone wall - revealing nothing.

“Why haven’t you fixed it?” Rhys carefully watched both of them. His brother’s eyes were almost black, and he saw the tentative leash on his power, threatening to break free and destroy anything posing a threat to his family - even if it’s them.

“She hasn’t made an effort either.” The words came from Cassian. Suddenly, he felt … childish. Holding onto a grudge like this, foregoing friendship and something else that had built. He should’ve been the better person, to go to her and try and get both sides of the story - to let go of a stupid grudge costing him so much. Azriel was still quiet next to him. Rhys didn’t say a word, only studying the two of them.

“Fix it.” It wasn’t quite an order. “Before it’s past the point of return.”

Were they already there?

Alarm crossed Rhys’s face, eyes glazing slightly. His hand reached for the knife at his hip. He knew that expression - danger.

“She left Velaris.” Rhys stood, shoving his chair back. “Find her.” That was an order.

It had been months since the last threatening letter arrived - but immortals could be patient. A trap could be laying in wait for her, anywhere. Azriel was still trying to sniff out how they had eyes on her movements outside of Velaris.

“Any idea where?” Cassian asked.

“I’m locked out.”

He cursed under his breath.

“I have an idea.” Azriel sighed, as if the situation was a mere annoyance - a fly fluttering around his head. Cassian fought the urge to snarl.

“Be quick.” The worry in Rhys’s tone set him on edge. Azriel tensed as well, but grabbed on to his arm and winnowed them, traveling through the world through his shadows.

The sleeping mountains. She’d told them they’d been used for healing in the past, and explored them before as part of her research, he and Azriel in tow occasionally. A pit settled in his stomach. A sense, tugged against his consciousness. One he’d never heard before, a soft and feminine voice pleading; find her.

Clear mountain air filled her lungs as she winnowed to the first place she’d pictured.

A sparkling, turquoise lake lay before her - dipped beneath two peaks. A lake for healing. One of the few places she could find complete peace. Where her thoughts seemed to float away, worries became insignificant, silence became healing. She settled herself on the edge of the lake, watching the water ripple across, tossing stones once in a while. The dew from the moss soaked into her dress, coating her legs as she kicked them out, resting back on her elbows. The midday sun was a warm glow on her skin, pleasantly heating her body.

She tilted her chin up towards the sky, breathing in the fresh, clean, nearly untouched air. She let her mind drift, let the sounds of nature around her float in, acknowledged any thoughts - and let them go.

The temporary peace was bliss, weights lifted off her shoulders - she felt her body calm for the first time in weeks, maybe months. Almost like a drug, she was high on the absence of how her mind went quiet for once. No memories beating against her mind, rattling and tightening her throat.

Like everything, it was temporary as she heard the beat of wings. Loud in the way he was announcing her presence. The familiar scent hit her a second later, and her jaw clenched. Rhys had set up some way of notifying as she left the city. Boundaries, she needed to set some fucking boundaries.

He spotted her, propped up on her forearms - legs stretched out in front of her, the sheath of one knife. One. outlined under her dress. The midday sun set an ethereal glow around her, as if the light itself was drawn to her. Beautiful. She was beautiful, magnetic, and he hated how it drew him in. That wasn’t quite enough to abate his anger as he landed a few feet behind her, the slope set him a few feet above - towering over her prone form.

“I didn’t know you were this stupid.” Cassian seethed. Any earlier thoughts of mending bridges disappeared. Her fists clenched as she stood, slowly turning to face him, but she didn’t meet his gaze - her eyes moved behind and a ring of white shown around them. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. In the split second, before he could react, a familiar wave of magic, her magic, shoved him to the ground.

He was rolling, back on his feet - moving. He spotted Azriel landed ahead of him, no doubt his shadows whispering to him. It passed in minutes. Flashes. And it was over. They needed to leave now, the carnage and prisoners tied in front of them could be dealt with later. The archer, now dead, had come from the trees nearly one hundred paces away.

It took a few seconds for him to realize her magic hadn’t joined the fray.

A pained cry came from behind him and he swirled to see her, the tail of an arrow sticking out of her thigh as she fell to her knees. An arrow meant for his head. A string in his chest tightened, tugged, and his face went slack.

Look, a voice had whispered. Beyond. Not at Cassian, she knew that. Her eyes scanned the horizon, magic starting to curl under her skin, reacting to a danger she couldn’t see. Treeline - the leaves shifted in the opposite direction of the wind, a small zing - her magic acted on its own, shoving him to the ground as a blur shot through the air. There was no question about it, no chance she could let that happen to him. Not only because he came after her, but she physically couldn’t let harm come to him.

The ash arrow that would’ve gone through his head, lodged in her thigh. Magic left her at once, an empty stillness left behind. Azriel had landed as well, him and Cassian moving into action faster than she could think. Don’t look don’t look don’t look she chanted to herself, and palmed the knife sheathed on her thigh, a pained noise left her - it had gone right through the fabric and as she moved it she could feel it. Not lodged, directly through her leg.

A pained and pathetic noise left her as she fell to her knees. The wood was slick, not like blood - something thicker. Hands shaking, she reached her opposite arm across to try and grab the knife - cut the arrow and get whatever the hell it was out. Wrong wrong wrong, her body seemed to scream.

A hand gripped her wrist, Cassian’s face pale and raw. “Out,” she screamed, “I need it out.”

“Hang on a second,” he murmured, examining it. Her body was barely holding her up, but if she fell backwards it would only push it further into her - push whatever was coating it around into her bloodstream. Azriel was there as well, shadows swirled around her wound, examining. Two shields had surrounded her, tinted blue and red.

Magic ripped shredded through them like paper. She knew exactly who that was, it sung to her like a familiar sound - echoing the magic she normally could reach.

Her sister shoved Cassian out of the way, falling to her knees in front of her.

She bit the inside of her cheek harshly enough she tasted blood.

Azriel’s hazel eyes met hers as he stood behind her sister. Something like grief, pain, and a hint of anger flooded through them. The normal cold mask had disappeared, replaced by raw emotion she’d rarely seen from him. He staggered a step back - his eyes going wide, pupils blowing. His expression mirrored Cassian’s from before. Then they looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing before their expressions shifted back to neutral as they turned to examine the surrounding area. As they turned their backs on her, right when she wanted them most.

A tear finally dripped down her cheek. .

They turned their backs, again. That pain was more than the physical. That pain struck deep into her soul. He’d meant his words. If a friend was so easily discarded, were they friends in the first place? She was nothing to them, just as he’d said. At least she knows exactly where she stands with them now. The air is cleared.

Mor’s frown followed her gaze - right at the two Illyrians, undoubtedly seeing the tears filling her eyes. She turned to her sister and saw the questioning look on the blonde’s face. She shook her head. Not here, not now, not ever. The last few months proved she didn’t need them. Want is different than need, and want she can overcome. As soon as she was well, she’d drag her sister back in the training ring. Luck or fate had him there in the nick of time, but she couldn’t rely on that.

Mor had cut through part of the arrow with her magic - her hand now reaching to slide the arrow out, instinct guided her and she snatched Mor’s wrist.

“Don’t touch it,” she snarled.

“It needs to come out,” She replied, expression cautious. Gods, she wants it out … but a sense, something tickling at the back of her neck, tells her it’s a bad idea.

“Pois-” she tried to force air into her lungs, tried to override the panic, but her sister's eyes had widened in understanding. Had the arrow been intended for her? Or designed to down whoever was in her path?

“Just nod or shake your head,” Mor said softly. “Can you feel your magic?”

A shake of her head. Mor’s mouth tightened and a small shield surrounded the wound - even as her sister’s magic seemed to recoil against it.

Cassian had to turn away from her, had to dig up every semblance of self control he could muster. The bond snapped for him and Azriel at the same moment - but he could see it in her eyes, it hadn’t for her. If he didn’t turn away right then, he would’ve done something abnormally stupid. Maybe Mor knew, because a shield had thrown up around the two of them, blocking out all sound and access. It’s likely Rhys was the only person who could break that down, or tear it away. Sometimes he forgot just how much power Mor has, of what the female was capable of.

Rhys winnowed in, with a few quiet words he’d explained what he saw. Azriel stood next to them, one eye on the males still unconscious and bound a few paces away. They turned back in time to feel Mor’s shield drop. She met their eyes - and he could read the panic as clear as day. Her brown eyes glazed for a moment, before she winnowed out.

“What?” He demanded. Rhys paused. Azriel had gone stiff next to him.

“Some kind of poison.” He said under his breath and winnowed. Take care of this. House of Wind he spoke into their minds. Another clear order.

She awoke to her sister pacing at the foot of the bed, burning a hole in her carpet. Y/n was laid on her side, arrow still poking from her thigh.

“Don’t touch it.” Mor said, spotting her hand reaching for it. She withdrew it quickly, tucking her hand up into her chest.

Normally, her sister's anxiety would increase her panic, but this time she calmed, like she needed to be the strong one now. Rhys came back with Madja, and she forced herself, promised herself she would keep her mind steady and centered. The lack of magic felt like a missing limb.

The healer hovered over her, magic running different diagnostics as she asked questions she could barely answer. Mor explained what she could, still moving back and forth.

“Good call.” Madja said to y/n, “keeping it in place.” She smiled weakly at the praise.

“Getting the poison,” Rhys flinched at the word. Madja hadn’t explained exactly what it was yet, and probably for good reason, “is going to hurt.” Like hell. Her eyes had a silent question, do you want them here? She gave a slight shake of her head.

Madja turned to them. “Both of you out. Keep a shield around here. Do not enter until I say so.” Their faces tightened, but they didn’t dare question her, only shooting a nervous glance to y/n. She nodded at them, looking more confident than she felt.

“I can’t use any pain relief,” Madja talked her through it. She had spent hours watching the healer before. “I don’t know how it will interact.”

“Do you know what it is?” her voice was hoarse and each word hurt like hell. Madja’s silence was an answer enough. She handed her a piece of leather. Y/n steeled herself, and dug her teeth into it.

Her voice was hoarse from screaming by the end - like whatever it was was fighting to stay inside and she felt each droplet leaving, but the healer said she could only get what was clinging to the arrow, what was still clenched to her muscle. Anything in the bloodstream would have to come out the natural way. She’d moved quickly to get it inside a vial - out of the air and before it could make contact with anything. Because of that, it had to go slowly, in all it took around an hour.

“Now the easy part,” she gave her a reassuring smile and yanked the arrow out before she could protest. Her teeth clenched, but soothing magic ran through the wound, stitching it back together. After what felt like an eternity, she helped her move to sit. Rhys must’ve asked her mind-to-mind, because the door swung back open the second she was situated.

Then - more diagnostics, more notes scribbled in between. Madja’s face was too neutral.

“What was it?” Mor asked.

“Bloodbane.” The two winced, although she knew they suspected it. She did, for certain, given she couldn’t feel her magic still.

“How long?” Y/n asked.

Madja clicked her tongue. “One week at least. It was a heavy dose,” she shot her a tight glance. “Once it wears off, you’ll need to be cautious. Your magic will come back in a flood.”

“We’ll take necessary precautions.” Rhys assured her.

She winced as pain echoed up her thigh, radiating through her body, and waited for the other shoe to drop. Madja clocked her movement, and slowly added, “there was a small trace of modified hemlock.”

Silence filled the room, and she could’ve sworn the temperature dropped. Modified? Madja, if she was unnerved, didn’t show it. Hemlock could kill in the right amount. “With the dose and the alterations, you can expect to feel sharp pains, perhaps just in your leg or body. Luckily it wasn’t a full dose.” Luckily. She supposed Madja was right - compared to the normal symptoms of that particular poison, she’d be grateful if that’s all she experienced.

“What can you give her, for it?” Mor asked.

From the brief studying she’d done on healing, and the books she’d read - y/n already knew the answer. “Nothing.”

Madja sent her an approving nod. “We won’t risk any interactions. Nothing for the pain, no drugs, no alcohol.” Maybe this was the Mother’s way of scolding her - of calling her a dumbass.

Madja clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Try to keep activity to a minimum. Drink plenty of water, let it run its course. I’ll come by twice a day for the first week.”

She grimaced. If Madja’s insisting on coming twice a day. She’d be lucky if any of them let her leave the bed.

The healer gathered her supplies and began to take her leave, Rhys walking her out.

Azriel had escorted the leftover soldiers to Hewn City as he flew back to Velaris. Flying faster than he ever had, he realized - like the winds were adapting around him, encouraging him to move faster - faster.

He landed on the balcony, Az a second behind him. “She didn’t …” his words trailed off, seeking confirmation. He shook his head. Maybe it was the ash arrow, blocking her magic and keeping her from realizing.

“No.” He responded quietly. “She didn’t.”

“Do we tell her?” Gods he’d thought about finding his mate before, thought about it a lot over the decades - they all had. He supposed it was some primal instinct in him, always searching for that connection. As soon as she’d taken the arrow for him, her magic working instinctively, he confirmed his suspicion. But, suspecting and feeling it snap were two very different things.

“Not now.”

Madja and Rhys’s conversation drifted through the open doors.

“Keep a close eye on her,” she was telling Rhys, intending for the two of them to overhear. He noticed Azriel’s shadows swirling around him. “The Fae Bane,” he shuddered, “is significant. One week is the minimum.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t know exactly how they modified the hemlock.” His fists clenched, some of that deadly rage returning. “But the intention is pain without permanent physical damage. Expect sharp pains, depression, nightmares, and possibly hallucinations.”

“We won’t leave her alone.” Rhys promised her.

She gave a nod. “No alcohol, drugs of any kind, tonics, or pain relief of any kind. Even if she begs for it.”

Begs? Would she be in that much misery? His chest tightened. As mad as he might still be at her, the thought of her in agony is worse.

“Understood.” He replied, as if he’d heard this before. Maybe Madja was sharing it for their knowledge too.

“I’ll keep looking into it. I’ll be back in the morning” Her careful eyes fixed on them, nostrils flaring. “I need a word with these two.” She fixed a look at Rhys, who gave a quick bow and strode back inside, not bothering to look at them.

“I’ll keep your secret,” Madja murmured quietly as they approached her. She’d scented the bond - on them? Or y/n as well? Nothing flew past her. “I’ll trust you two to take care of her. She won’t be herself.” Her words felt like a warning and a plea.

“We will.” Azriel answered, in that cool and voice of his. Cassian was nearly trembling with built up anger and those protective instincts - ready to tear apart the entire house, kill any threat - perceived or real. “Tell me everything, please.” Azriel said mildly.

Madja, of course, picked up on it too - and gave them all of the details she could; in layman’s terms. Depression, nightmares, pain. He picked up on those three - the ones she put the most emphasis on. And instructed them to hide anything that might slow down the healing process. Although, he got the distinct sense the house might do some of that work for them.

She left them with one final word of caution; “I cannot guarantee how much she will remember - if anything.”

Rhys, as if sensing the end of the conversation, strode back through the doors. “I’ll take you back,” he said to the healer.

Minutes later, Rhys returned looking drained. “I’m sure Madja explained everything to you.” In more detail than he could know. “I’m not going to force you to babysit her, but your assistance would be appreciated.”

“She doesn’t need a babysitter.” Cassian countered. Azriel noticed with a hint of amusement that he’d bristled and come to y/n’s defense.

Rhys only raised his brow, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. Azriel, so far, had refused to process just how close they came to losing her. That’s something he could think about later. “For the next week or so, she does. We can’t leave her alone.” Azriel read through that; he’s terrified of what might happen if they do.

“I’ll keep eyes on her,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Like hell he’d let anything hurt his … his and Cassian’s mate. Even herself. Even if he still was pissed at her. He kept the neutral mask firmly in place, but part of him felt a bit ashamed at the relief in Rhys’s eyes. He’d harbored some doubt they would help.

“We’ll work things out.” A rotation, he figured. They all still had jobs to do, duties they had to keep. Rhys or Mor would tell the priestesses she would be off for the next few weeks. Perhaps she could bring some work for her to do here, if she had any moments of lucidity.

Gods, he had no idea what to expect - and that put him on edge more that he’d let on. Azriel worked on knowing everything, that was his nature.

“Can anyone else help?” Cassian asked, but he could sense the doubt in his voice.

“I don’t trust anyone else. Except Amren.” Something pricked the back of Azriel’s neck. He knew Amren wouldn’t harm her, but something about her always made him uneasy.

Madja hadn’t oversold the side effects. Not at all. When they entered the room, minutes after their conversation with Rhys. Mor was already wiping a wet cloth against y/n’s forehead.

Pale and wan skin, fists clenched and eyes squeezed as her leg seized. The scar was red and angry. A contrast against the rest of her skin, marring the otherwise untouched flesh. Reflexively, he looked at his own hands. Cassian, putting on a much better show than him, sauntered up to Mor and snatched the cloth from her, nudging the female out of the way. Her eyes dug into his back, but she promised y/n she’d be back later, shooting each of them a warning glance.

They had the gods-damned audacity to show up, acting like everything is perfectly normal. Like they hadn’t torn her soul in half this morning. The day had been too much. So much happening in such a short amount of time, maybe two hours if that. Words, words were too difficult as she clenched her eyes shut - a pain, one she wasn’t sure was phantom or real - ripping through her thigh.

A gentle hand ran a wet cloth over her forehead, she hadn’t realized she was panting. The bed dipped, and she blinked her eyes open to see Cassian sitting next to her. Worry radiated through his features. Where she could usually feel his or Azriel’s emotions … nothing. Maybe a side effect of her magic disappearing.

“Talking can wait until you’re feeling better.” He offered. An olive branch. She didn’t want it, so she turned her head away from him. One finger gently pressed against her cheek, dragging her attention back to him - frowning. “If you’d rather talk now, we can.”

She slapped his hand away, gritting her teeth through the pain to cross her arms over her chest. “Why bother?” Her voice was bitter. “I’m nothing to you.”

Did they both say it in Rhys’s office? She couldn’t remember clearly. Everything was blending together, memories blurring in and out.

He blinked twice. “That’s not true.” Her eyes slid to Azriel, and he gave a short nod. There was some sort of emotion in his eyes, one she couldn’t read. That pissed her off more.

“It doesn’t matter.” She muttered. Not now, she told herself. It’s not something she can talk about now. There’s too much to process. What happened earlier …

“You’re not in your right mind.” Azriel cut in. Her jaw dropped and her eyes rolled. “Why did you go off on your own?” His voice almost sounded pained. Cassian cut him a sharp look, hissing in warning.

“I’m a free female.”

“Nearly a dead one. If we hadn’t been there - the arrow still would’ve hit you, and you’d be gone.” Maybe he learned something from the soldiers already. Did he forget she saved Cassian? Well, he wouldn’t have needed saving if she hadn’t left. Her head shook, those thoughts were useless.

“Not the time Az,” Cassian snarled, standing abruptly and shoving him towards the door. Azriel’s shoulders tightened, and he strode out the door, shutting it softly behind him. Uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“You should sleep.” He finally said.

“Then leave.”

He let out a low edged chuckle. “I wish, but you’re stuck with me princess.” I wish. The words had the effect he wanted and she willed the tears away as she turned on her side, facing away from him. This might be the most miserable week of her life.

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passionateseadruid · 25 days

Text

when he walks in…

A few things… there is some Lucifer slander but that should be expected as he is the devil from da bible.

Also a few references to Paradise Lost. How can you write bible fanfics (or anything about Luci) without referencing the OG bible fanfic.

Sera is also a big part of this but I want to think that she was kind before the exterminations.

Also my interpretation of eve.

And Adam is so Ooc but there is still bits and pieces. I definitely headcanon that he wasn’t always a misogynistic prick but was spoiled because he never ate the apple.

And finally (Y/n) is used to refer to reader but it’s completely gender neutral.

Your purpose was to keep Lucifer busy so that he wouldn’t go out seeking Lilith.

The first memory you had was blurry and the conversation you overheard was fuzzy but you’re sure it was about you.

“I don’t want an angel I want the human woman.” A man shouted.

“You don’t want an angel, fine!” A woman replied as if trying to calm a toddler throwing a tantrum. A slight sting came from your back, feathers flew around you.

“Oh really? How’re they going to get around without wigs, Sera?” There was a triumphant tone in the man’s voice. “Face it, they can’t live here if they’re human but they can’t be down there because it’s supposed to be just a single man and a single woman, and if they have wings they’re an angel so I don’t want THEM!!”

“Fine!! You know what!! They’ll bleed red like the humans do but I’ll give them the wings of an insect. They’ll be like nothing or no one else. Will that make you happy. A being not quite human but most definitely not an angel.” You felt your skin contort and mutate as Sera molded and shifted your flesh.

“You want me to be with some hideous monster? No. Sera, no! I love Lilith. She’s just the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Lucifer stop! She is Adam’s wife. You can have my new creation.” Sera pushed you forward and the first thing that properly came into your vision was the short man with blond hair and rosy cheeks.

“Get that freak away from me!” He shouted and ran off.

“Did I come out wrong?” Sera’s heart almost broke as you said those words.

“No Darling. You’re perfect. Just give him time.”

He never came back after that. News that he had taken Lilith away swept the city behind the pearly gates.

“Did I do something wrong Sera?”

“No darling. He never gave you a chance. Come on now. We should get back to work.”

“is that all I’m good for? Work work work! I have to run around maintaining balance for people who don’t even care about me, and all because Lucifer didn’t choose me. Where’s my choice?”

“What do you want to do then?” She groaned.

“I heard that a new bride was made for Adam. He named her Eve. I also heard that Raphael was going to visit them, can I go with? Please?” Sera smiled at you.

Sera nodded. “If you want to oversee the garden you may.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank You!!”

“Go get ready, it’s quite muddy down there so you should probably change out of your white clothes!”

It was so green down there. “Hi! I’m (Y/n). Sera made me.”

“Who’s Sera?” A beautiful girl with dark brown hair and tan skin asked. She had big brown eyes and was of shorter stature.

“Doesn’t matter right now. Who are you?” You said with curiosity. A taller man wrapped his arms around the woman.

“Back off! I already had one angel steal my first wife. I’m not letting Eve slip away so easily.”

“Yes that’s actually what we came to talk about.” Raphael had said.

////////////////////////////////////////

After explaining what had happened with Lucifer to the humans Raphael had left. Eve wandered off halfway through the story leaving you with Adam.

“So…” he started, leaning back on his hands.

“I have so many things I want to ask you! First off, what was Lilith like?” You sat next to him, your knees against your chest.

“Prideful and lazy. I told her over and over again that we needed to grow food for keep the lions from killing the lambs but all she wanted to do was lounge on the beach.”

“Next question. What’s life like down here?”

“It’s… great actually. Other than the slight of having Lilith taken. Eve’s just fantastic though, she listens to everything I ask of her. I always got the feeling that Lilith hated being made for me and she wanted to be her own person. So her leaving is whatever. I wouldn’t want to be told that my only purpose was to be made for someone else’s sake.”

“I was made for someone else and I was fine with it.”

“I feel like Eve’s like that. She was made from my rib ya know. I let her do whatever she wants when she feels like it so she doesn’t get suffocated and leave me too. I love her so fucking much. Trust me, when she gets back I’ll ask her to tell you about all her favorite fruits. You’ll love her as much as I do.”

“What is freedom like? What is it like to live for yourself? You and Eve get to don’t you?”

“Yeah. We still have our duties in the garden but she’s always so excited to help. Do you not have freedom?”

“Not particularly. Sera keeps me pretty busy. I live her her rules, her will alone.”

“Was she the one who you were made for?”

You look away bashfully. “No, I was made for Lucifer so he could stop obsessing over Lilith.”

“Well, thanks for failing. I wouldn’t have Eve if he gave up on Lilith.”

“That actually makes me feel a little better.”

“Hey are you always so obedient to that Sera chick?”

“I have to be. She created me and I must honor her rules and orders above all else.”

“You seem tense. How many rules do you have?”

“Too many to count.”

��We only have one rule here.”

“Don’t eat the apple from the forbidden tree.” You and him say in unison.

“I know.” You look away. “Adam. Promise me one thing.” You look back at him with a desperate look in your eyes. “No matter what you do you have to follow that one rule okay? No matter if you’re starving, no matter if Eve is being threatened. You can never break that rule. Not even if Eve does. Tell her too, okay. Not if she’s starving. Not if you’re being threatened. I already lost my purpose in life because the man I was made for broke the rules and got kicked out. Promise me that you will never break this one simple rule.”

“Okay! Geez, you’re kinda dramatic. I’ll go tell Eve.” He stood up and walked away.

“You’re purpose in life huh? Don’t be so dramatic!” A voice from behind you called out.

“You can’t be here! HE forbid it.”

“HE can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

“HE still loves you. Just apologize for what you did and we can go home.”

“I’m never going back. And I’m never going to be with you! So just take your disgusting SELF AND GO AWAY!!”

“Am I not good enough?”

“NO!!”

“Adam!?” You called out to him surprised at his sudden outburst.

“Eve!” Lucifer shouted worriedly as you both rushed to where the cry came from.

“WHAT DID YOU DO!! (Y/N)!! HELP!! We can fix this… WE CAN FIX THIS RIGHT??!!”

“What happened?” You asked trying to calm Adam down.

“I’m sorry. They said I didn’t know what I was doing. They said I was ignorant. I was. I was so stupid.”

“…What did you do Lucifer?”

“I showed her the truth. The truth that all of you were trying to hide.” He smirked triumphantly. However his smile faded as lightning struck behind him. The winds picked up. The sky darkened with rain clouds rolling in.

“Eve just apologize. Just say you made a mistake. HE is very forgiving. Please.”

“But it’s their fault! They tricked me! I’m not the one to blame! It was them! It was him!” She tried to reason.

“No no no! Just apologize! Eve just apologize! You won’t be in trouble. Just own up to your mistakes and ask for forgiveness!” You tried to persuade.

“Eve just do it!” Adam demanded.

“You eat it. We can do this together.” She pleaded.

“I… I can’t.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s just a stupid apple. Now she can be more informed about her own life.” Lucifer shouted.

“it was their one rule! Why couldn’t you just mind your own FUCKING business!” You shouted at him. “I wasn’t good enough so you had to have Lilith! I thought maybe, just maybe, now that he’s happy I could move on! I was ecstatic when I saw them! I thought overseeing them would bring me a sense of purpose! But no! You had to mess that up for me too!”

“Do you honestly think that I give a shit about you?! That for one moment I thought about YOU!?” Lucifer laughed in your face. “That’s utterly pathetic!! YOU’RE pathetic!!”

“You shut up! They’re great! They’re kind and they actually want to protect us!!” Adam yelled as he held Eve.

No matter what kind word he said, Lucifer’s words stung like nothing else. Tears flowed from your eyes.

“You know what? Fuck you Lucifer!” You shouted and ran away.

////////////////////////////////////////

You hadn’t thought about that for nearly 5 decades. Then a certain brunette walked up behind Sera. He was rounder and dressed in white and gold robes. “Little darling. I’d like you to meet Adam, the first man.”

“We’ve met. Hi!” You waved.

“Hey teeny.” He smiled.

“Hey! I’m not short! You grew since the last time I saw you! I wasn’t this small when I-” You cut yourself off.

“When we first met, I know.” He smiled softly. But his smile drop as he spoke next. “She’s gone. He succeeded in taking her away from me. I thought you’d like to know.”

“Adam, I’m sorry. I should’ve-”

“Hey. I’m here because of you. You saved me. You tried to save her.” He cut you off and wrapped you in a hug. “Sorry. I just need this.”

“Take as long as you need.” You hugged him back.

////////////////////////////////////////

“Ugh! Those dumb fucking whores!” Adam shouted.

“What’s wrong now?” You groaned. Adam had gotten an attitude after he made it into Heaven.

“It’s that short fucking clown and the whore he left you for! Those skanks had a baby! She was such a lazy prude when she was with me but apparently she couldn’t keep her fucking legs closed and put out for that ugly little shit!”

“Hypocrite. You‘ve been having sex with pretty much anything that moves.”

“Okay but the difference is that I actually populated the earth like I was suppose to. She was created to be the mother of all humans yet she goes off and makes hell-spawn instead.”

“Are you feeling insecure?” You teased.

“No! Fuck you, bitch!” You giggled as he pouted.

“Hey! I just had an idea how we can get back at them.”

“How?”

“We get married.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” He blushed. “We can’t do that!”

“Why not? If you’re not into me or you don’t want to give up sleeping around then you can just say so. But it would say to the brat downstairs that he isn’t the only one who can swoop in and steal away someone else’s lady. And it would prove to our Ex that we aren’t still thinking about each other.”

“But we are.”

“They don’t have to know that.”

“If we do this you’re taking my awesome dick every night.”

“Deal, you big horny crybaby.” You kissed the tip of his nose.

The news of the spur wedding rocked the pearly gates and all seven rings of Hell. All except the palace of the pride ring. They all couldn’t care less.

////////////////////////////////////////

It’s been a few months since you two got married. You sat brushing your husbands wings.

“Hey babe?” He turned to you slightly.

“Yes?”

“…do you think that I’m a good person?”

“Why do you ask?”

“…I feel like everyone always pities me because of my exes. They always say how I’m so good for listening. Does that make me a good person?”

“Sometimes you can be a bit misogynistic.”

“You get paid more than me! Why do I always have to pay for supper!?”

“Because you barely ever let me choose where we eat.” You tease.

“Spicy food makes me sick! I don’t want to be stuck on the toilet for three hours just because of your freakishly high tolerance.” He pouts.

“It’s also gentlemanly to pay. Besides you insist on getting burritos from that one place twice a month. …why do you ask anyway?”

“Sera’s got this dumb idea. It’s got me thinking about what makes a good person.”

“I wouldn’t know, I was created to follow rules. If I didn’t, I’d fall like Lucifer.”

“We had one rule. Then everything changed when Kane killed Able. I don’t even know if I’m a good person.”

“I think killing is back, harming children is also bad, sexual abuse is also bad. All these things are very purposeful though. People like that don’t change, but you changed. You used to sleep around and now you’re committed to me and you seem much happier.

“Can sinners change?”

“Not all obviously, but if they wanted to maybe.”

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you too baby.” When he walks in I am loved… I am loved.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x you #adam x reader #adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam hazbin x reader #adam hazbin hotel x reader

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animentality · 4 months

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the main reason ds9 isn't remembered as well as the original series or tng by the general populace is not just because it wasn't the very first trek or the most popular trek (tng's popularity was what really brought trek into the mainstream).

it was hated by Rick Berman, who was the head of the franchise at its height, and who deliberately spited it by never including its canon in other treks.

and that effect has lasted to this day, as modern writers who only bother to watch Star Trek movies never seem to remember ds9 even exists. the way the Pine-Quinto movies mention Archer and his beagle, and trek movies and shows make multiple references to TOS, and newer treks center entirely around tng plots or the Borg.

the way they brought back seven of nine before literally anyone on the cast of ds9.

there's a reason that the damn tng movies had a million references to Voyager, with Janeway and the EMH actually having cameos, but ds9 never even got a passing reference, even where it actually would've been appropriate.

Berman hated ds9 for its focus on serialization, i. e., connected storytelling, rather than syndication, i. e. episodic storytelling, because he was a money grubbing misogynist and homophobe, who thought all the money was in syndication. he hated the writers/other producers of ds9 for going behind his back and doing their damnedest to make quality star trek.

one of my favorite spiteful Berman stories is that in star trek first contact, the 2nd tng movie, he wanted to blow up the defiant and destroy it permanently, just for no reason at all.

and the ds9 writers were upset because no one had asked them about it. so they said you can destroy the defiant, but we're just gonna keep using the defiant and pretending it didn't blow up if you do.

which is why Worf asks Picard, in a completely thrown in line, what's the status of the defiant, and Picard says adrift, but salvageable.

and this particular movie is funny to me also because in that period, Worf is technically supposed to still be serving on ds9, and bringing him into the movie was basically justified as something of a side quest for him, being dragged off the station for a little tng romp.

so you see the crew of the defiant, but... again. Berman spite. rather than letting ANYONE on ds9 cameo in the first contact movie, even though that might've been cool... they just have some randos. one might be Adam Scott.

and remember that JANEWAY AND THE EMH are in that movie.

so berman deliberately wanted to spite ds9 by destroying the defiant, stealing worf (even making fun of him for his role on ds9 in another thrown in riker line) AND snub the entire crew of ds9 by having none of them anywhere in the movie, even though they COULD HAVE CAMEOED TOO, or at least been mentioned...

and to me that's pretty funny, because Rick Berman could have as many tantrums as he wanted behind closed doors, and hate the staff of ds9.

didn't make a difference. they'd still keep defying him, and you know...

not to be a total prick but... ds9 still has a thriving fanbase to this day. tng does too, and so does tos, and star trek in general is doing pretty well...

but out of all the old treks, ds9 has aged the best, not just in how it looks, but also in how it bridges the gap between, old world optimistic charm and more gritty, humanistic sci fi story telling.

it balanced syndication and serialization really well, and had great standalone episodes AND a fun connecting overarching narrative that made the world of star trek feel richer and more lived in. I also want to say that for modern audiences, who are accustomed to serialization more than syndication, ds9 is a far easier entry point into the world of star trek than any other trek.

Rick Berman can go fuck himself, is what I'm saying, in summation.

ds9 will stand the test of time.

and you know what?

both tng and voy succeeded in spite of Berman. not because of him. everything that makes those two shows work, is in defiance of the Roddenberry mandates that both Roddenberry and Berman constantly tried to uphold, even though it was to the detriment of the stories.

#star trek #tng #tos #voy #ds9 #ent #rick berman #star trek aos

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

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Hello! I have read some of your fics and you are an amazing writer, I love your works, and since I saw you have request open for my current hyperfixation, I wanted to ask for some jealous Anthony Lockwood , thank you :)

a/n: yesssssss thank you i would absolutely love to write this! I'm so, so glad you like my writing! thank you for all your support <3

warnings: mild language gn reader

"Who are those flowers for?"

You look up from your book, curled up on the sofa in the living room, watching as Lockwood strides in. Something in your chest leaps at the sight of him, longing to watch his usual routine of pacing, then sitting and reading a magazine, but you fix your gaze back on the book in your lap. You've just started a particularly interesting chapter.

"Me."

There's a pause and a glimmer of tension in the air. "From who?"

"Ned Shaw."

Lockwood scoffs, and when you look up again, he's sitting, glaring at the cluster of roses stuffed in some random vase you found in one of the cupboards. They're a bright, blinding red on the window, bathed in golden sunlight.

"Why?"

You suppress a smile. "You're just full of questions today, aren't you? Well, judging from the little note that came with them, he wants me to go to the Fittes at Fifty ball with him tonight and thought the roses would be a symbol of his good intentions."

Lockwood scowls. "Ned Shaw? Of all people, Ned Shaw?"

"We've talked a few times," you say with a shrug. "Not always willingly. I've bitten his head off already for how he treats you guys. But, behind all the grumpiness, he's actually an alright guy."

"And he asked you to the Fittes ball?" He's still staring at the flowers, and it seems as if he's trying to burn them with sight alone. It takes all your willpower not to laugh.

"Yeah, is that so surprising?"

"No, but..."

"But what?"

He sighs through his nose. He seems mostly at ease, except for his expression, but there's something more to it than the rivalry between Lockwood and Co and Fittes. Ned Shaw is part of Kipps' crew, and, sure, he's not the nicest guy ever, but he's saved your life a few times and you've caught up over coffee once or twice. It's not like you're interested in him. You're quite caught up over someone else entirely.

"And, so what if I said yes?" you ask, pretending that your focus is still on your book. Really, you're watching Lockwood out of the corner of your eye, or admiring him as Lucy would put it. "No one else asked me."

"You're going with us, aren't you?"

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd assume that's jealousy in your voice, Anthony Lockwood." Grinning, you glance up from your book.

Lockwood scoffs again. "Jealous? Of Ned Shaw? There's nothing to be jealous about."

"Well, he did pay for me at Arif's yesterday when I was getting some snacks. Awfully kind of him, don't you think?" You turn to the next page of your book. "He bought me this, too. Heard I was into this genre and thought of me when he saw it."

"Bullshit. You don't read that genre at all."

You raise your eyebrow, gently shutting the book. "And what makes you say that?"

Lockwood leans forward, his infamous 'Lockwood Grin' making its appearance. "You don't read anything by that author in particular because, in your words, he's a 'misogynistic prick who has never seen a woman in his life'. You don't read that genre because it reminds you too much of real life when in reality you want to escape it." He points over to the windowsill. "Those flowers? You prefer orchids over roses, a fact you've made clear before, and you think that red roses in particular, such as those ones, are overrated. You like orange ones more."

Speechless. He's left you completely and utterly speechless, and he knows it because his grin is triumphant.

How does he know all of that? They've never been topics of conversation, merely things you've said in passing, but he's remembered it all. Your cheeks flush, and your smile becomes more shy and subdued. None of it is even that interesting, but he's gone out of his way to remember it.

"What do you suggest I do, then?" you ask, trying to keep your elation hidden.

"Don't go with him."

"Who do I go with then?"

He knows it's a leading question, you can see it in his eyes and the way his smile softens slightly at the corners. "Me."

Internally, your brain is throwing a party. Fireworks and confetti cannons are going off, a disco ball is flashing a rainbow of colours, and your heart is dancing along to some music, but you make sure to keep your face as casual as possible. That proves to be harder than you thought.

"Oh, is that so?"

There's something in those dark eyes of his that has butterflies swarming in your stomach. "Yes. I think I'm a much better dance partner than Ned Shaw."

"Who says we'll be dancing?" you say. "We've got a job to do tonight. I'm sure we'll be far too busy."

"I'll make time."

And now he's done it. Your breath catches in your throat, and a smile plays on your lips as you look away from Lockwood. You can feel his gaze on your face, still, and you feel all giddy and mushy inside. When you turn your eyes back, he's still watching you, studying your face intently, and you find yourself doing the same - enjoying tracing your eyes over the shape of his face, the neatness of his hair, the green tie he fiddles with the end of. The only sign of his emotions behind that bright, cocky smile.

"I was never going to go with Ned," you admit, your eyes firmly locked in place with his. "I already declined his offer."

"You did?" You don't miss the relief in his tone.

"Mm-hm. Told him about the roses, too. And, really, this book isn't that great. Quite naff, if I'm being honest. There is no way this man has ever seen a woman. I mean, seriously, in what world is this good writing?"

Lockwood laughs, and you wish you could record the sound and put it on repeat to use it as some sort of painkiller. You find yourself laughing, too. You feel at ease with Lockwood, comfortable just sitting with him. It would be a content life just relaxing here, curled up on the sofa, with him for the rest of your life, laughing and talking.

"So, I know I haven't bought you flowers, or a book, or anything, but will you be my date to the ball?" Lockwood asks.

It sounds a bit like a line from some fairytale, enough to make you laugh softly.

"I will, Lockwood. But, I have one request."

His smile is so radiant it lights up the whole room. "And that is?"

"Don't kill Ned."

"Ah, well, no promises."

#lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #lockwood and co netflix #givemea-dam-break

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punkeropercyjackson · 16 days

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Todomomo is literally the closest you can get to a autistic4autistic t4t ship without it being canon or intentional.Shouto's dad is an abusive hypermasculine prick who's implied to be misogynistic(teaching Touya his views on women as a kid,that they're 'useless' based off their genders)and Shouto wants to grow up to be the man he never could and refused to be and dosen't care about gender at all,much less conforming to it's roles and gets called a pretty boy a lot and is way closer to his mom and sister than he is to either of his brothers,Momo is the daughter of a rich couple who adultified her to the max in order to make her the ultimate 'proper prim lady' with little regard to her emotions and mental well-being and only care about her when she lives up to their impossible expectations and she had to get that 'I have to be perfect or else i'm WORTHLESS and NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR ANYTHING' mentality from somewhere and it's not like she wasn't isolated from her peers by not being allowed to be a normal kid in any way(her mom didn't even let her go festivals and she had to sneak off on her first one with a fear of her finding out in the back of her head the whole time!That is NOT normal behavior for your child to exhibit,Doña Yaoyorozu!!!)and she presents femininily in a way that's viewed as artificial by assholes but it's just genuinely who she's made herself to be!Shouto explicitly inhereted his mother's build and hates that he keeps looking like his dad as he gets older and Momo's said to look older than her girl classmates even disregard her body type and towers over most teen guys!!!

Shouto has a neutral expression that looks purely deadpan and just a bit angry/annoyed and he's awful at socializing and he's insanely good at flirting with Momo but IT'S NEVER ON PURPOSE and Momo has a resting smiling face as her default look and she gets scandalized at regular teen behavior and she's an expert at navigating social situations with practiced politeness and they both take things literally and don't understand the dumb kind of norms and have a special fondness for a particular food because it gives them comfort(cold soba + tea types)BUT ALSO!!!!They have matching additional food motifs(bubble tea specifically + strawberry based things)and cordinated outfits with their own aesthetics(their sweaters,,,,,,that got turned into a running thing in the games and i believe official art too)and are canon cat people(*insert that 'All cats have autism' pic here*)and Momo is a bookworm while Shouto is a comics nerd and Momo got into alt music thanks to Jirou and has a love for desserts and Shouto writes platonic love letters to Rei and perfers the spicier/savoury kinds of japanese food AND THEN THEIR ACTUAL RELATHIONSHIP

Shouto voted for Momo because he thinks she's the best they're is but didn't verbally communicate it to her because it never occured to him he'd need to and Momo admires Shouto just as much and said it outloud to his face from the start and Aizawa being the only that helps them clear up the mix up?????His old autistic man ass that's married to audhd icon Mic?So Shouto goes into detail to Momo's face too about how cool he thinks she is and that's when they officially becomes friends and he never shuts up about her to anyone from then on,this nigga's new special interest is his best girl friend he's got a crush on,and he did notice she was sad when no one else did in an earlier part but had no clue what to do or say to cheer her up so they spend time together now that they're really buds and they both know just what to say to eachother by the War Arc and Momo finds Shouto being a fucking doofus with geeky ass tendencies and moments she could make a youtube compilation out of it if she was lil meaner to be so attractive she says he's perfect for Prince Charming as a role in a play Class 1-A did in one of the novel's.Izuku broke Shouto out of his ice,Jirou and Mina broke Momo out of her doll shell and now neither of them need to mask but what brought them together was being next to eachother at their worsts and at their bests and only thinking the latter no matter what or who said otherwise.Including themselves

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ghostlychief · 1 year

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Dude I just loved your Ghost fic with his scary wife, it was so ✨chefs kiss✨

Could you please write a fic about how the MW2 men would react to reader letting loose in the club after a mission? Just the concept of a cold, badass woman who can handle herself in the field and is a total man-eater that has the moves™️ + the men's reactions (mayhaps with a crumb of nsfw👀) is JUST DOBDISHDONDOSHDINSKWE I BEG PLEASE

HELLO!! thank you sm for your request <3 I took some liberties but i really hope you enjoy what i threw together for you!! (and there is a crumb of nsfw, so i hope you enjoy the tiniest of crumb i gave you lmao) ALSO, thank you sm for saying you really like my other Ghost fic, it means so much to hear that <33333 thank you sm for reading!

ENJOY, SWEETIE

Dancing Queen

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol drinking; foreplay? slight fingering; nothing too smutty but MINORS DNI; seriously, if you're a minor pls do not read.

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i'll edit tomorrow, but sorry for any typos!

---

You were pretty revered on task force 141. You were the youngest on the team of burly men but you were one of the most skilled members on the force. And, you took yourself very seriously, almost too seriously some would say.

But who could blame you? You were a woman in a male dominated field. You had to be serious, had to be cold. Especially in the armed forces. This line of work was just as bad if not worse than the financial sector, you know, with all the finance bros. Actually, it was worse, but just by a hair.

So, due to your highly stressful and sometimes misogynistic job, you liked to let loose, have fun on the weekends. It was really the only time where you could fully relax and let yourself go. Alcohol helped of course. You loved going to clubs, bars, restaurants, hell anywhere really. As long as it helped you forget the week you had, helped you soothe the aches and pains that came with the job.

Surprisingly you found that your internal team, therefore task 141, weren’t such pricks after all. You thought they would be all misogynistic pigs, and treat you worse than their male colleagues. No, you were proven wrong. Something that doesn’t happen often. You were smart after all.

Sooner than later, you found yourself growing fonder of your team, and you considered them your closest friends. You know, big shock. You weren’t expecting your closest friends to be your work buddies as well.

You also sprouted a crush for one of your team members. Who could blame you? He was tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious. Always sporting that black balaclava, only leaving his eyes privy to your vision. You have only seen him without his signature mask a few times, most of them being when he was drunk, and out with the team.

But who doesn’t like intrigue?

Fast forward to this Friday. You found that Friday is your favorite day to go out. You realized that you still have all of Saturday to relax, sleep, and recover and then it’s Sunday. The dreadful day in which work starts the next.

So here you were, getting ready to do out tonight with 141. You typically styled your hair your favorite way, did a full glam of make-up, and pre-gamed to make sure you would be a solid drunk by the time you had at least one drink at the bar. This was your time to shine, to have fun for once. You weren’t going to pass it up. Hence, your lovely make-up and outfits that made any jaw drop to the floor.

By the time you were finished getting ready, you felt a slight buzz in your system, and you felt good, felt pretty. You were ready for a night out. Specifically, you were ready for a night out with Ghost.

You found it much, much easier to talk to the intimidating guy when you were slightly buzzed, or better yet, drunk. Was it healthy? Probably not. But who’s perfect, right?

Even though you were a force to be reckon with yourself, the man still intimated you. Maybe it was because of the feelings that started developing in the pits of your stomach. You couldn’t help it when your heart clenched every time you saw him, or every time his blue eyes met your own.

It was getting bad, and you were worried it was going to start to effect your performance at work, which was unacceptable.

So, what do you do to deal with all these feelings? You drink of course!

Hey, you’re still in your twenties, it’s a pass.

You get a text from Soap in the GM that your guys’ uber is at your place. It was decided that you would ride with Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.

You saw the uber in front of your building, so you made your way to the back seat. You figured that Ghost would be in the front, so you open the door and tease, “Gaz, you need to take the middle seat because you’re the shortest out of all of us.”

However, you weren’t met with Gaz’s chocolate eyes when you swung open the door. No, you were met with Ghost’s large frame, and confused expression as you mistakenly talk to him instead of Gaz.

“You want me to sit in the middle?” Ghost points a finger at himself.

You hear Gaz snicker from the front seat. I’ll get him later.

You disguise your embarrassment with a cough, “Oh! No, no, no. I mean, we can’t have the tallest teammate sit in the middle now can we?” You flash Ghost what you’re hoping is your best smile. Dammit why did I drink so much getting ready?

Ghost just grunts in confirmation and gets out of the vehicle.

You clamber your way in only to find Soap with a shit-eating grin, sitting in the back as well.

“Hello, Soap.” Your tone is clipped, which makes his grin widen even more.

Ghost gets in finally, but once he’s finally settled, you find yourself literally squished between Soap and Ghost.

“Can either of you move over or something? I’m being squeezed to death.”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it, y/n.”

You really, hope Ghost didn’t just hear what Soap said, but it’s unlikely. You hit him in the shoulder, “First rounds on you, asshole.”

Soap raises his hands in a truce. “Alright, alright. Don’t get mad at me.”

You were only annoyed because Soap was right. You did like being squished up against Ghost. How embarrassing. Stupid feelings. Who even has time for feelings anymore?

You all finally make it to the club, and you make a beeline for the bar. As promised, Soap orders you, as well as Ghost and Gaz a round of drinks. You all cheer’s, then you down your shot. At this point, you’re definitely drunk.

The guys get another drink as you observe the dance floor. They take two more shots, and you take one more.

After your last shot, you let them know that you’re going to go dance. They all toast you, and then you’re off to the dance floor.

You start moving to the beat, letting the music take over your body, letting it carry you away from all your problems.

It’s only a few minutes in when you notice that they’re playing your favorite song. You rush back over to the guys, and excitedly shout, “They’re playing my favorite song! Do any of you want to dance with me?”

Before anyone could really respond, Soap is clapping Ghost on the shoulder, and pushing him towards you, “Ghost would love to.”

If you weren’t so drunk, you would have noticed Ghost send a glare to his friend. But not out of despite, more out of nervousness.

You clap your hands, so excited that someone is joining you, much different than your usually demeanor at work. Then you grasp Ghost’s hand in yours and lead him to the floor, leaving a grinning Soap and Gaz.

Gaz just sighs before saying, “Why do you always have to butt in?”

Soap just shrugs with a knowing smile on his face, “Because, they’d be good for each other, and both of them need a little nudge from someone to get the ball rolling.”

Once you and Ghost make it to the dance floor, you turn around to face him. You have the biggest smile he’s ever seen on your pretty face, and he can’t help but smile back.

You start moving to the music as before, but this time, Ghost wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you in close to him. So close, that your chests are touching. He’s definitely buzzed, borderline drunk.

He leans his head down so his lips are brushing against your ear, “I didn’t know you were quite the dancer.”

His breath tickles, and you let out a laugh, tightening your arms that have found their way around his neck.

“Don’t you know? I’m the dancing queen.” You let out a laugh, and pull him closer.

He laughs as well and you both continue swaying to the beat, that is, until a more up-tempo song starts to play. Before you know it, Ghost has spun you around, so now your back is facing his front.

His large hands make their way to your waist, gripping tightly. But not too tightly in which it hurts. It’s more so a comforting hold. You feel secure, like you would never trip and fall in his embrace.

You lean your head back so it’s resting on Ghost’s chest, and you feel him dip his head to meet yours. The height difference is making you dizzy, making you want more of him.

You feel him kiss down your neck, his lips searing your skin as they map you out. He makes his way back up and nips at your earlobe, which has you letting out a small yelp. But you lean further into him, signaling him to continue on.

Your hands come up to rest on top of his, and you squeeze them. You’ve never felt this exhilarated, and Ghost’s touches leave sparks in their wake, igniting you.

As he continues to kiss down your neck, you take one of your hands that’s grasping his, and start to lead it to the top of your skirt. He seems to get the idea, and continues his hand down until it’s grazing your upper thigh, lifting your skirt ever the slightest.

He subtly brings his fingers under your skirt to graze your underwear. The dance floor is so packed, that no one will notice.

The feeling of his fingers pressing on your bud has your head spinning and you let out a soft whine. It’s just faint enough that only Ghost can hear it. His hand goes further and pushes your underwear to the side. He teases your entrance without entering a finger into you and he brings his thumb up to press down on your clit. Which makes you let out another low pitch whine.

Your hand trails down to find his, as if to ground yourself. From what, you don’t even know. You just need to feel him more. More so than you already are.

All too soon, he removes his hand from your and brings it back up to cup your waist, then he spins you around so you’re facing him. What a fucking tease.

You crane your neck to glance up at him and you don’t know who moved in first. But what you do know is that you’re kissing Ghost. His lips lock with yours and it feels like it was always meant to be.

You trail your hands up so they play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Twirling the hair around the tips of your fingertips. The kiss you share feels infinite, like it was mapping out the very constellations around you.

You never wanted it to end.

All too soon he pulls away, and brings his hands up to cup your face. His forehead is pressed up against yours, and he holds you so gently.

“I just had to do that, at least once.” He sounds breathless, and you fight the urge to pull him down to you again, at his confession.

“Why just once?” You’re just as breathless, if not more as you ask him this.

You don’t want this to end here, you can’t let it end here. You like him too much, too much that your heart hurts at the thought of letting him go.

Ghost peels himself from you, but his hands are still ever so gently cupping your sweet face. His thumbs rub under your eyes, on the apple of your cheeks, as he looks fondly down at you. He’s looking at you as if you created all the planets in the solar system, and hung up the stars as well.

“Because I know you deserve better.”

His admission tugs at your heartstrings, “Bullshit. You don’t get to tell me what’s good for me and what isn’t.”

It was true. You had to decide for yourself.

“Is that so?” A smirk forms on his lips.

You’re glad the air has turned back into something light, something teasing. That’s something you could deal with. Not the heavy shit that was threatening you before.

You bring your hands once again to his and grasp them, “Yes, it is, so you better get used to it.”

Ghost just lets out a laugh and then swiftly pulls you into a bone crushing hug. He rests his head on top of yours. You swear you feel a faint pressure atop your head, almost like a kiss laid upon your hair.

His words get muffled into your hair, but you make them out just the same. “Why don’t we finish what we started, but in a more private place, hm?”

You tighten your hold on him, words stifled into his chest as your answer, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Ghost Masterlist

hope you enjoyed! <3

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paddockbunny · 1 year

Text

Two

Summary: Aria Armund is hired by Alpine as an "image guardian" for a reluctant Pierre Gasly - AKA she is hired to be his "babysitter". What happens as the season progresses and both of them have their buttons pressed by the other? And what happens when one of them suggests making a rather interesting bet? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Aria Armund (OC) Word Count : 3, 116 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, language, nudes being sent and received, slight female masturbation mention, I think that’s all… 💞Authors Note : Aria’s POV 🥰 thank you for the support on the last chapter folks! It means a lot!! If you want to be added to a tag list then please comment on the newest chapter not the one prior or anywhere else because it’s too hard to keep up with if it’s not all in the one place.

Aria

Fuck this day!

As soon as my shoes were kicked off I practically rushed toward the kitchen and hurriedly ripped open the tape that held closed one of the boxes sitting on the kitchen worktop, desperately trying to find a wine glass for the bottle of wine I purchased on my way home. God, this day needed to be over like, right now. The second a glass touched my fingertips I couldn’t have been anymore thankful that I got a twist cap wine so didn’t have to struggle trying to find a bottle opener. I watched as the gorgeous, beautiful ruby red liquid flowed easily from the thin neck of the bottle into the clear glass. A subconscious sigh left my lips at that moment. If I had thought this new job was going to be easy then boy was I wrong.

Pierre fucking Gasly. What a prick. He was so full of himself. Arrogance practically oozed out of him. It would have been laughable if he wasn’t so bloody misogynistic. My teeth ground together when I remembered how several times throughout the meeting he thought he was so sly but I caught him, each and every time he glanced at my boobs. Quickly, I swiped my large glass of wine off the counter and headed straight toward the sofa. I need to relax. Tension had been wracking my body all day. Even now, I could feel it in my shoulders, my neck, everywhere. As my head tipped back and I took another large swig of the alcoholic crimson merlot I spied my bag. It was laying on the floor with things practically bursting out of it. I really needed to get a larger one for all the shit I had to carry around with me now but shopping was low down on my priority list. However, the bag itself was not what caught my attention. My eyes honed straight in on the top of my new shiny work phone poking out of the inside pocket. A large part of my brain said fuck work while the other was already grasping hold of it after taking no more than a second to lunge for the object like it was giving out some weird siren call before I knew I was doing it. The recollection of Pierre’s resistance to give me his fucking passwords today played on my mind. Then it mixed with the memory of him smiling at his phone and asking if I’d “rather make it a threesome” as he left the shitty office they put me in - for the few weeks I needed it for before being stuck with the fucker for the whole year.

I took out the notepad Pierre had reluctantly wrote his passwords down in and opened up the freshly downloaded Instagram and Twitter apps ready to punch his details into. I had expected to eye roll when I read his passwords but actually they were just simple names and numbers which made very little sense to me.

Instagram:

Username : PierreGasly

Password : Pascale22/9/1996**PSG

Twitter:

Username : PierreGASLY

Password : 10Anthoine_Cate*7

I guessed they were probably family members and whatnot so it wasn’t really surprising. And I sipped more of my wine because I had a feeling I was going to need to brace myself for what I was going to read (and see). The moment I clicked on the little paper airplane arrow icon it suddenly dawned on me that if I had been asked to hand over my own passwords I would have immediately combed through everything and repeatedly hit delete, delete fucking delete. But this was Pierre Gasly. He wouldn’t have even considered deleting anything. He would be proud of all the conquests, one night stands and random faceless nudes he no doubt received and probably jerked off too because well, he was just that sort of person, wasn’t he? He presumably had them going back years and quite possibly enjoyed flicking through them sometimes just to get a kick from the girls that would physically throw themselves at him online in a desperate bid to get his attention. Perhaps sometimes it may have worked and he would have used his social media to arrange a hook-up where he would most likely forget the girls name by the following morning. That was the type of guy I was dealing with here.

Nothing particularly salacious could be found on his Twitter. There were a few suggestive comments here and there, which seemed to get some of his fans all hot and bothered. The one he had referred too today - the doggy comment that I really had to attempt not to pretend to vomit at - popped up and several more referring to things of a sexual nature most guys would have grown out of by 27. So I made a note to discuss keeping things a bit more respectable and PC in future. Digging a little deeper he had liked several racy, risqué tweets from other people (including fans) and again I had to jot down to tell him to reign his hormones in a little bit more than he was currently doing. Although, it wasn’t just the smutty natured comments Pierre had gone through and flung likes at freely. I managed to find tones of comments from journalists, insiders and general fans that were unsavoury toward Ocon (and a few aimed at the team) last season which was in no way going to be allowed now I had to keep an eye on him. It was exactly the type of stuff Alpine had an issue with and Pierre really needed to play ball before things became irreparable. I swigged another large sip from my glass as I finally went into his following list. Unsurprisingly, a couple of pornstars could be found amongst the hordes of sports personalities, brand sponsors and general celebrities. I ground my teeth a little and couldn’t help but note the type of adult actresses he was following - an insight into the type of girls he went for perhaps? Almost all were brunettes with big doe eyes, big lips and of course big boobs. They all seemed to be on younger side, y’know the type that could fake teenage babysitters and naughty neighbours next door. It was exactly what I would expect of Pierre. EXACTLY what I would expect. They were swiftly unfollowed and I felt like there was no way I could be prepared for switching to Instagram without a refill of my wine.

Pierre was most, prolific, shall we say on Instagram. His time spent scrolling on the app was very well known. His trigger happy thumb that fired out likes like hot dinners span a whole meme. “Liked by Pierre Gasly” was even on the back of t-shirts now. I didn’t need to deep dive on my research prior to meeting him to find out how addicted he was to the social media platform. It was one of the first things that popped up when I googled him. Initially I couldn’t help but laugh at this 27-year-old man being hooked to a silly little app but now after having met him, I could see why his juvenile brain would become dependant on the thoughtless validation. I went to the kitchen and refilled my quickly emptying glass with haste. The memory of Pierre being so guarded about his passwords sprung into my brain and so now I desperately wanted to know what he was hiding. I clicked on the bright coloured button with my thumb and smirked knowing how much he would hate this. But as I sat down, he was so conceited he actually wouldn’t hate it at all.

I flicked quickly down the interface. It was full of mostly drivers and brands. I raised my glass to my lips and took a swift drink when I reached a bikini clad model which was followed by another one. Both had been “liked by Pierre Gasly” and I found myself eye rolling, yet again. But this wouldn’t be what he was trying to stop me from gaining access too. After-all they probably all followed scantily clad women who frolicked around in hotel beds and beaches to pay their rent. My thumb hovered over the DM icon and sure it was fucking pathetic, but I felt a little bit of a rush finally allowing myself to tap it.

And I was certainly not disappointed. It was full of exactly what I knew it would be. Girls. There was the “you replied to “x”‘s story” amongst plenty “reacted to your story” & of course the “sent a photo”’s littered his DMs. Starting at the top, I decided to go through the most recent one first. It was from a @Jocelyn_S_Silva and the wine really didn’t prepare me. Jesus! That’s a lot of ass! I saw the little heart emoji at the side of it meaning Pierre clearly liked it and I let out a little bit of a sigh subconsciously. Girls really did send guys this type of stuff very openly and freely and honestly, it was going to be tough keeping him out of trouble if these were the kinds of DM’s he was happy to revcieve. Then the time it was sent caught my eye. Today at 1:33pm. He was with me at 1:33pm. He was in our meeting being a brat, a big headed idiot, a total chauvinist. I scrolled to the messages before and realised that was where he had come from and why he had been late. He had spent the night with this girl.

Jocelyn_S_Silva: 💋 last night was fun Papi, let’s do it again sometime?xxx

I couldn’t help but feel a slight disgust wash over me so I tried to settle it with the carmine coloured liquid in my glass. Who was this girl anyway? I went back to view her profile. A Spanish influencer it seems. 200,000 followers, probably mostly male by the millions of bikini pictures she was posting. I mean if that was how she earned her money good for her, she had an amazing body and she would be best to use it before she loses it but she wasn’t good for Pierre’s image so there was a swift unfollowing and blocking of the bikini influencer (I mean, what the hell is a bikini influencer anyway?)

Then following on from her there was another bikini model from Italy who was clearly someone Pierre had taken on a date and hooked up with after seeing as the message was quite similar to Miss Jocelyn Silva’s. Pierre hadn’t replied to her so I deleted conversation before proceeding to unfollow and block. Next was some girl who had been a paddock guest but had a fairly slim IG if you discount all of the shopping pics. She had sent Pierre various shots of herself in various states of undress and I didn’t need to see much more. Delete, unfollow and block. There were a few conversations with guys I could gather were friends and other racing drivers like Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. Then a few more conversations with girls that were extremely entertaining to read. Most were almost comically cringey and stereotypical moves all guys stuffed up their sleeves when talking to women. But one or two of his conversations were enough to make me raise my eyebrows. He was a natural flirt and some of these girls (the ones he seemed to like the most) he gave extra effort too. As I read “…I know you’ll shiver when I kiss down that beautiful neck” I could hear his confidence laced voice practically purring it. And then another girl got “God! I can’t wait to be between your thighs, making you cum all over my tongue” and that was when I had to devour all the remainder of my wine.

Listen, as much as Pierre Gasly was a monumental dick today - acting like he was king of the castle and as if I should fall on my knees for him upon sight alone - I couldn’t deny that the man was good looking. His slate grey, moody eyes sort of smouldered in a way most men would be jealous of. His penchant for smirking was so God damn infuriating that it was hard to conceal the fact that it did in fact work on me and I had to disguise how it actually managed to raise my temperature a little. And besides all else, the man oozed confidence like no one else I have ever met before. It exuded from him. Every single pore in his skin permeated an almost magnetic certitude that was hard not to get drunk off. Having now spent a few hours in his presence could almost understand why women found him utterly irresistible. Pierre had this seductive, alluring appeal that not many guys could mimic. It was so unbelievably natural to the man that several times today you had been amazed that he hadn’t been snapped up yet and found the right woman. After all, he seemed to be able to sleep with them no problem judging by his DMs.

For a brief moment, I really considered putting the phone down, running myself a bath and forgetting all about what my new job was. A glance toward the unpacked boxes and semi furnished flat reminded me of that. Fuck! This was all a step in the right direction but still not one I thought I would be taking. I glanced down at my fading tan and let out a long, laboured sigh. I miss the heat on my skin. The warmth of a beautiful November day back in Aus. My eyes flickered tightly shut and I was right back there. On the porch of the house overlooking the lush greenery and crystal clear swimming pool and right as I almost allowed myself to daydream one day I would be back there, I opened my eyes and the moment was over. The phone was still on in my hand when I looked back and allowed my eyes to focus on it. There’s no good thinking of the past. I click on the next conversation Pierre had been having with a girl and practically choked on the last drop of wine I had slowly tipped out of the glass.

It was a sent photo. From Pierre. Of PIERRE!

From the angle it was evident Pierre was lying down. The tanned, flexed muscles of his abdomen were right there on full display and a shaky, uncertain breath escaped passed my parted shocked lips. His chest hair was a light shade of brown that at this angle looked practically golden. And it continued down to cover the valley of his tight, taught stomach. I felt my mouth water slightly as it was very apparent Pierre liked feeling like a man if the defined “happy trail” was anything to go by. But it wasn’t his sculpted chest that had shock reverberating through my body.

Pierre was clad in a pair of very tight, possibly expensive, black boxers with a VERY obvious erection. The thin fabric was stretched almost to breaking to contain the hard on beneath and suddenly, it dawned on me why he was so unwilling to give me his passwords. But the fact he had hours to have deleted any of these dirty photographs made me wonder if he actually wanted me to see them. Now, that was very Pierre of him!

It was hard to look away from and even harder to will myself to click off. I could tell why Pierre was so smug all the time now. There was no denying he had to be well-endowed and he was clearly girthy. And fuck, he was so confident in his sexuality there wasn’t a chance he didn’t know how to use it. There had to be a reason all of these girls wanted more. This is so fucked! It’s Pierre for fucks sake! It’s Pierre! He’s the arrogant asshole I’ve only known a few hours. Get a fucking grip, Aria!

Then just as I caught the sound of my own trembling, unsteady breathing I felt a dull pulse like beating between my thighs that was unmistakable and I sighed. After all these months? Now? And Pierre?! This was a fucking shocker. Seriously? I thought I was broken. I thought I had turned this particular part of myself off like a leaky tap after, well after what, happened. But evidently the sight of Pierre Gasly’s hard on was all it took to turn it back on. For a minute I simply sat there and had to at least take this in. It wasn’t right. I had to be professional. I had to “look after” him. But it wasn’t like I was about to fuck him and probably a lot of other girls would feel this after finding a photo like that.

Fuck it!

I went with it. I allowed myself to use the moment. Utilise the feeling that was now coursing through my veins. I lay back on the sofa and placed the work phone down so I could use both of my hands to get my tight as hell work trousers undone. Guys did this all the time. They got off to their work colleagues and all that didn’t they? I lifted my leg up a little so I could get a good angle. Just go with it. And a long, steady breath flowed from my lips as I trailed the tips of my fingers down my body. I felt the hot air leaving my lungs against my fingertips as I started there. Then they passed down my throat, my neck, my collarbone and down my silk blouse covered breast caged in my lace bra underneath. My eyes closed slowly while my hand travelled down further. It brushed down my stomach and the little bare skin that had become exposed when I undone the trousers moments ago. With one inner push my fingers continued and pushed down into the elastic of the white cotton panties and I let myself think of the picture. Of Pierre’s picture. Of Pierre. And then the tips of my fingers brushed across where the darkening throbbing pulsing was coming from. God, Pierre’s mouth trailing down my neck would feel so good right now. His fingers could do this better.

Suddenly, I sit up straight. My hand retreating from my waist band instantly.

Fuck no!

No! Not happening! Absolutely not! No way in hell!

No matter how bad I need it, I will never get off on the thought of Pierre fucking Gasly! EVER!

TAG LIST!

@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @queenofshinigamis @kovalcin @genevieve-blr @mcmuppet @themockingjayreader

Thank-you too @the-lazy-leprechaun for helping develop the plot 🥰

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly series #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly multi chapter #f1 smut #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 series #f1 x oc #bet trope #grumpy sunshine trope

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ewesless · 3 months

Text

I have nothing nice to say tonight.

Edit: this was a quick rant with a brief explanation. It's not meant to go into depth on any subject matter and has a hostile tone throughout, including the notes. I ignore men and politics in real life, I have no desire to learn about them or explain anything beyond the post's scope. This is drawn from when I had a passing interest in learning about the diseased male thoughts. I've clarified and expanded the original post.

Barbatos does have the admirable Sigma traits, but he is just as hopelessly in love with the player character and panders just as much as the other males in the game which is only one of many ways that negates a self-respecting Sigma 😂

I honestly hate that words like Simp made it into Obey Me. In a sexual context it has been appropriated from incels and MGTOW language. It's 'reclaimed', redefined and is used unironically again everywhere, but it is still completely sexist bullshit. Women can't even get basic respect and sympathy from a man without this type of men degrading, jeering at and insulting both.

It's a term heavily used in this fandom so I can't really fault the writers. They use catchy slang to stay hip and contemporary, especially with Levi and his jargon. It's in awful taste to use a misogynistic term FROM a character who is identifiable as an incel, towards a character meant to represent anyone, in a game and genre specifically intended for women.

I doubt that anyone who uses the term on themself cares about the implications or origin of trendy labels. The term Simp, used in a sexual context such as this, is from the Manosphere (Far Right, Masculinist, Anti-Feminist, Anti-Woman and LGBT-phobic "Movement".) It is an acronym that means "Simpletons into Mediocre P*ssy". For Levi to call himself a Simp is to specifically refer to MC mediocre pvssy. These are characters meant to represent idealized fantasy men and yet the writers decided to invite concepts from men who violently oppose, objectify and hate Women and LGBT?

While it's believable that Levi could operate out of this belief system, they shouldn't have actually done it. 🙁 OM runs absolutely counter to Masculinism, the character are PROUD "SIMPS" that aggressively pursue, "paypig"/throw money, gifts, fawn over, pander to and compete against one another in hopes of getting attention from someone who can be interpreted as a woman. The characters are "pathetically" obsessed with gaining favor, monopoly over and a romantic and/or sexual relationship with the player. It is ANATHEMA TO THE MASCULINIST CONCEPT. Masculinism is, in other words, male supremacism and a call to arms for "oppressed men" to reject progress towards equality, retake full patriarchal control and force everyone else to submit to their ideology and social order and accept the "inherent worthlessness" of equality, the female sex, non-whiteness, LGBT, Liberal/Left and those that disagree with them.

OM promotes a progressive and LGBT friendly stance while remaining solidly as the otome genre's woman oriented escapism + power fantasy, romance game. That isn't to say OM players/Otome/Joseimuke players aren't also literally Simps who paypig for mediocre prick, but this game is supposed to be about "good men" and romantic fulfillment.

It's ridiculous 😂

There will be no tolerance for "Not All Men" or "Not Just Women/Female Players" on my post. This is about specific men and their ideology that specifically attack women, their lives, safety and futures in horrific, vile, life ruining ways.

Edit: you know the trendy phrase of "death of the author" and how viewer interpretation trumps creator intention? Yeah, this is that.

Edit 2: I know I'm acting "butthurt" and being "sensitive about no big deal, it's just a localized, foreign, gacha game" but that's just part and parcel with any form of protest and activism. Why else is anger the primary, force driving, motivation?

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me barbatos #obey me leviathan #sexism #useless writing

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bugeyedfreaks · 6 months

Note

Hi, hello! I have something to say.

For the fandom and the rowdyruff boys. I went through your page and found myself agreeing hardcore with a lot of your opinions about the fandom and ppgxrrb.

First of all, I have absolutely no idea of who came up with Butch growing up to be a massive pervert. Going off the show, wouldn't technically all three of the boys be massive perverts? They are all misogynistic slime balls who see girls as inferior.

Some things I think the fandom gets right; the boys are pretty. at least cute. For two reasons, 1; they are splitting images of the girls, so if the boys are ugly then so are the girls. 2, canonically, Bubbles has admitted that she finds Boomer "cute." Also despite the ass kicking handed to the girls in the first appearance of the rrb, Blossom and Bubbles fawn at the prospect of having kissed a boy.

Then again they kissed Harry.

Also, I think a good argument is kid rrb IS cute, but they get that sort of golden child treatment where all 3 of them just eventually end up burning out. They don't care to keep up with themselves and with how gross and mysoginistic they are, they become very unattractive very quickly. They rot, basically. Also if they were discord mods, they'd have kittens they brag their rrb title too.

I will also argue that there is nuance in the boys. Boomer atleast, which is funny because he is the least popular rrb. There are many instances where he is depicted as "naive", "child like" and even "gentle." Like yeah, he was the guy who wrote "Flowers are pretty... dumb" but when he was revived from Him, he was waving at butterflies and being taken advantage of by his brothers. If you wanna go deeper, in the comic the boys actually team up with the girls in one instance.

Still, I see the rowdyruff boys in the same vein as the gang green gang. It's like trying to defend Billy because he has that one episode where he saves the girls after setting them up, but it's like people forget that the girls still had to pummel him because... in the grand scheme of things, the guy is a shitty person! The rrb suffer from major pretty privellege and being the hetero counterparts of the girls, age included. Forget all the other side characters like Elmer, Mitch, Robin even mike! No the gorls grow up to want the boys because, 'they can change them!' Oh my gosh Bubbles suffers drastically from this.

And "the reds" are so toxic it's sad. It's like every fic with them is angsty and incredibly shallow. I never get why Blossom spends so much time running back to Brick. Oh yeah! It's because he's so big and hot now, with fiery red hair and a masculine jaw line, and is cunning and calculative and he suffers from severe mommy issues. He needs a woman like Blossom to show him how much of a prick he is! To put him in his place and tell other women off who have interest in him, because how could a woman lower her standards so much for a punk, Blossom would never (#FEMINISM). Then arranging "private visits" with him so they can make out and talk about how arrogant they both are because "ooh. We're so bad for each other but it feels soooo good. So deep. so bad."

I love how the fandom pretends Blossom is above it all, but still some how succumbs to him. "She can fix him guys! No really! We just have to make Blossom into an absolute self-contradicting prude and have Brick loosen up because... convenience!"

And people seriously bend the hell out of Butch to get him to work with Buttercup, more than 90% of the fics basically make him into a Mitch stand in with powers but this one is hotter2.0. bUTCH LITERALLY HAS NO CHARACTER AND HONESTLY, Buttercup has been repulsed by him many times. She'd yeet that guy so fast, and yet, somehow, the greens are the most popular couple I CAN NOOOOOOOOOT. Like how... really. Why does Butch get so much fanon development? The fandom tries so hard to make him into this character he simply is not! Like even going to the city of clipsville episode, the most salacious thing the fucker has done is "looked at a magazine and whistled!" But like how come Buttercup is so smitten by this that she never, once, snaps out of her "attraction" to the guy? Was this not the same issue Buttercup suffered from ACE.

Wouldn't the idea of being taken advantage of by a villain, turn Buttercup off!?

I just can not imagine Buttercup tolerating Butch- unless he is super hot now and she's internally attracted to him, because nobody gets her like this deprived fuck boy who is misunderstood, and actually a romantic guy who cares about her under it all and blood thirsty- excpet when Buttercup is around, because Buttercup can fix him and "he knows not to mess with her!"

It was so funny seeing the push back for the cw's take, when literally reading that script reminded me of all the fanfics I have had to dig through for YEARS now. I was just thinking "but isn't this what you guys WANT?" And some people were even fretting that it'd attract unwanted parts of society to the fandom. Um. I don't know if the ppg fandom is aware of this, but the fandom is already FLOODED with unwated fans, from fetish artists, to those Pintresest face claim boards that remind me of RIVERDALE, the games have already started!

That one slip of a comic, that was supposed to be a joke, of the boys handing the girls flowers and asking to be their boyfriends is way too meta.

Oh, wow, I didn’t know a lot about how some of the pairings are portrayed (obviously, since I don’t really explore that side of the fandom often) but… well, some of that certainly gave me psychic damage, especially the Blossom stuff. 🤢 I can’t even begin to express the pain I felt from reading all of that but this is the closest I can attempt to describe it with:

I agree that all of the boys would be huge pervs, but I think Butch at least being the perviest would track. If, being Buttercup’s counterpart, he also expresses extremes in his primal emotions, that would just be another primal emotion he’d express to the extreme. Just in super gross ways no girl would ever find appealing.

As for Billy, I will sort of defend him because, out of the entire gang, he has a peanut brain (affectionate), and I think, without the influence of the other guys, he would be a good boy. He still definitely needed to get punished for what he did to the girls though. 🤣 But yeah, I think the main difference between the GGG and the RRB is that, if separated, the GGG could… potentially… be good, and have been shown to have varied nuance, whereas the RRB are Pure Evil and Like That no matter what, and there’s like 100% less nuance to them.

But you’re so right about the CW thing, it really did feel a bit like the kind of stuff people have been writing for years. Also, yeah, wow, despite PPG fandom being rather fractured, it has unfortunately already suffered from a lot of, to put it politely, unpleasantness. If “unwanted” fans flooded in… well, what else is new? 😮‍💨

…man, there was a lot here, and I appreciate it all, and agree with a lot of it. Thank you for the ask! 💖

#also lol yes that comic is so perfect isn’t it?#haunting-song showed it to me and I was like #YEP #😆#oh ALSO boomer did not write the flowers thing #that was bubbles in disguise

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box-dwelling · 8 months

Text

Torchwood is a good show but I've literally never seen a TV show so so varied in episode quality based on writer. Owen is like the best example because I think how misogynistic he acts in an episode is directly proprional to how bad the writing is. He's either a misogynistic prick or a pretty interesting nuanced character who just happens to enjoy sex. Trying to make me believe the man who fell in love with Diane and tried to murder and terrorise a rapist for a rape that was committed 40 years ago is just wandering round dehumanising women left and right and screaming at them.

This aligns with a theory I had about its too sister shows that while the best episodes of Doctor who are way better than the best episodes of Sarah Jane adventures, if you choose a random episode of each you are more likely to get a good episode of Sja because its so consistent in its quality.

I propose a theory. The older the demographic of doctor who universe show, the more inconsistent the quality because a lot of writers will take an instruction for a show to be adult and take that as a declaration to have weird edgy trapping that suck ass to actually watch

#doctor who #torchwood #sarah jane adventures #tw rape

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handsomepetjack · 11 months

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Woohoo first Tumblr post and it's going to be all about Garv Chaturvedi (Garv belongs to @barbatusart <3)

alright disagree with me if you want but Garv is such an absolute cutie, he deserved so much fucking better and I will fight for the baby, he has done absolutely nothing wrong and he's so perfect, he was the best character on the whole story and I will forever be salty about bog, garv is INNOCENT YOUR HONOR! You could name all of his crimes and I mean all of them and I would still say he's innocent, you could tell me about how he's a misogynistic prick and I would still love that bitch, I have made so many edits and I gush about that fucking twig so much my friends are sick and tired of me, at this point if I send even a single blurred image they say "Silas this better not be garv" what do they think of me? Yes it's garv he is my husband (not actually) and I love him, I will only ever talk about him and this obsession is getting bad, no matter how much my friends try nothing turns me away from that fucking freak, he is an innocent man, he did not deserve what happened to him he is a precious baby and I will forever protect his scrawny ass, there are so many things I want to do to that man that I can't disclose and it's an issue, I will kiss his adorable face and squeeze him till he pops, I can excuse all the fucked up shit he's done because he's perfect in every shape and form, I would be that bitches sugar mommy, I will run my bank account dry for him and nobody can stop me, no matter how much I'm told to reconsider liking this man I will not, I will never reconsider or regret my choices, he's wormed his way into my heart and now I can't stop gushing about him, I will forever adore this man (I mean just look at him) and this rant is becoming way too long so in short he's adorable, perfect, sexy and amazing, thank you for coming to my ted talk (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

#Garv Chaturvedi #sad sack #going feral

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heejayy · 2 years

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Fucking Rich People || Gojo S.

Warning: misogynist, sexism, swearing

Pairing: Pilot! Gojo x black! Reader

Wc: 1458

“Why do we have to go to this stupid gala anyways? Can’t we stay home and order food?!’’ Your husband whined as he threw his limp body on the bed. His hair was tossed along with his dress shirt which was half tucked into his slacks.

“Because I have to show that bitch Margaret she’s not the only one with a hot rich husband’’ you smirked putting on your earrings ‘’plus it’s also a fundraiser to fight against serious issues around the world like world hunger, poverty, sex trafficking, gender eqaulity- shall i go on?’’ You turn to waving your hands in a forward motion.

Unlike the heartless pricks that’ll be at the gala you both actually care for these problems and fight to solve them. You sighed checking your hair, makeup, and outfit making sure everything looked damn near perfect before you left. You ran your hand down your skin fitting gown admiring how hot you looked right now.

“Gojo, will you please finish getting ready so we can go! Now now now!’’

“Why should I go with you, youre only using me as arm candy. This is degrading and embarrassing’’ he huffed, crossing his arms giving you a fake pout. “I’ll only go if you give me a kiss.’’ you slowly turned to him with your eye twitching.

“GOJO!!”

“Fine fine i’m getting ready’’ he flinched shuffling around you towards the bathroom.

___________________

“I so hate it here, it’s nothing but snobby rich white people showing off their wealth. I'd rather do something hands on like i don’t know helping at a soup kitchen’’ he audibly gagged while looking around. “Boy if you don’t hush and sit down’’ you spoke through your teeth as you smiled at the other attending guest trying to look somewhat happy to be there.

While you chatted with some random person, Gojo on the other hand was poking at his food with his fork loudly sighing. You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you excused yourself and turned to him “Gojo i hate it here as much as you do and I know you’re not a social person, but please at least pretend like you’re having a good time for me?’’ You gave him a genuine smile rubbing his thigh.

He took a deep breath nodding “fine i will’’ he said defeated fixing his posture. He scanned around trying to find someone to chat with but none looked approachable. The whole party was filled with ceo’s, surgeons, judges, pilots, (like himself), lawyers, anesthesiologist (like yourself), and stuck up young rich kids who are just here to flaunt their parents' money.

He was about to give up when he heard this oh too familiar thick southern voice “Saturo my old friend!”

“God help me” you let out a low chuckle at Gojo’s unfortunate luck “shoulda’ listened to me earlier’’ you gloated with a slight smirk. You watched as his ‘friend’ sat across from him with this disgustingly creepy smile. You could kill with how much hatred you have for this man, but you put up with him because he has the power to blacklist your husband and strip you of your anethesiologist liscense with one phone call, which is quite terrifying.

“Well hello Jonathan long time no see?’’ Gojo gave his best smile while shaking his hand.

“Yes yes very long and oh why look at you Ms. Satoru don’t you look lovely as ever’’ he groaned, almost moaning as he took your hand to kiss it. You swiftly pulled back before his lips even grazed you

‘’it’s nice to see you too John’’ you gave him a tight lipped smile scooting your chair closer to Gojo. You took a sharp breath looking around “where’s your wife? Is she around?” you question trying to shift the energy.

“Oh yes she’s home cooking me a nice meal exactly where she should be’’ he grinned letting out a boisterous laugh “no no i’m just joking she’s in the restroom dolling up her face, but i tell you right now she’s not as good looking as she used to be since she had those two twin devils. The only thing good that’s come out of that pregnancy is her free boob job’’ he snickered, taking a sip of his wine.

You gripped Gojo’s hand signaling him not to say anything “speaking about those two beautiful babies’’ you smiled putting an emphasis on beautiful “how are they?”

“Loud and obnoxious, can’t believe she had twins and they’re both girls’’ he shook his head . Your smile faded, and just as you were about to read him for free his wife took a seat beside him.

“Oh hi Maddie you look beautiful tonight’’ you beamed admiring her red silk dress with matching heels. She smiled looking down flustered “Thank you-”

“What took you so long you literally look the same-’’

“Ok! Well the bidding will be starting soon so we should get ready yeah?’’ Gojo interrupted him, rolling his eyes. You noticed maddie’s smile fade, you felt so bad for the poor girl.

_____________________

After dinner and bidding you both were just mingling with everyone, you and Gojo mainly stayed to yourself and you honestly thought you were in the clear until you heard Johnathan screaming for Gojo again.

“He’s close, let's make a run for it’’ Gojo whispered, interlocking his hand in your hand, yanking you across the ball room. You let out a giggle as you lifted your dress “you’re going to yank my arm off.”

“Satoru!”

“Uggh fuck me” Gojo groaned throwin his head back, you smacked his arm laughing telling him to straighten his act. A visibly drunk Jonathan waltz his way over to you two with a stupid smile while his wife Maddie struggled to hold him steady.

“Gojo hey my friend!’’ Gojo rolled his eyes for the thousandth time tonight biting his inner cheek.

“Hi…Jonathan’’ You put on your best phony smile giving him a wave, Gojo snaked his arm around your waist feeling the need to protect you.

“I couldn’t help but notice your wife bid more than you on those little orphan brats organization. Is it possible she makes more than you? Hell my wife isn’t even allowed to have a job’’ he let out an annoying laugh almost tipping himself over “but no it couldn’t be that would be absolutely embarrassing’’ Gojo scoffed as his protective instincts kicked in. His grip on your wrist tightened as he stepped in front of you.

“You know what in fact she does make more than me’’ Gojo slowly approached Jonathan’s drunken figure as years full of rage filled him “I am proud to say this beautiful, intelligent, incredibly talented woman makes more than me. She absolutely deserves everything she has and more because she worked hard for it, unlike your shiesty ass who inherited every dime you have from your dead father who you probably murdered! And you don’t deserve that nor that sweet woman who’s your wife, who you are always publicly degrading!’’ Gojo paused to grab Jonathan by his collar pulling him close “and if you ever say anything else about my wife I won’t hesitate to whoop your wannabe playboy ass, got it?” You sipped the rest of your martini and placing the empty cup on a random table completely unfazed unlike the rest of the guests.

Jonathan nodded and Gojo angrily threw him to the floor with a loud thud “You fucking rich people” he scoffed grabbing your hand stepping over him.

“Oh and I’d advise you to get a divorce baby girl. I heard he’s going bankrupt, I know a good lawyer.” you gave Maddie a sweet smile and walked off with your husband leaving these snobs in a shocked state.

_________________________

You and Gojo returned home content with how the night ended, but you could tell he was still on edge. “I’ve never fucking liked that bastard, god that felt so good to get off my chest” you eyed him through your vanity mirror as you removed your hair pins. He hastily pacing the room mumbling under his breath.

“Sweetie, why don’t you try to wind down ok? Come to bed with me” you insisted as you walked towards the bed “I’m tired, you’re tired and we just need to relax after tonight.”

Gojo nodded agreeing sliding in bed with you and cutting off the bedside lamp.

“My bad if I overstepped my boundaries with you tonight I know you can take care of yourself I jus-“

“Shhh Gojo it’s alright I didn’t mind, I’m well aware you know I can handle myself. Plus it was kinda hot seeing you go all protective mode” you smiled snuggling closer to him “he got what he deserved now go to sleep cause I’d rather not talk about that repulsive so called man, goodnight.”

“Damn you know you didn’t even show me off to Margaret I’m kinda hurt.”

“Gojo go to sleep.”

Jjk Masterlist

#gojo x reader #x black reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #gojo imagines #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk fluff

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