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#he’s quite the psychopath in it though
newvision · 11 months
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I watched the entire first season of Hannibal in less than 48 hours, I think it’s done irreversible damage to my brain
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ghostfacd · 4 months
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THIN LINE
based on this thought
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
genre: fluff, a bit of angst, descriptions of killing, they’re like in love ig, ooc!snow (he’s still crazy LMAO), SPOILERS for the ballad of the songbirds & snakes, Snow and reader being disgustingly touchy 💀
summary: in which there is a thin line in between yours and coriolanus’ friendship and something more, leading to a sudden shift in your dynamic
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“Coryo! I passed! Coryo!” You shriek in excitement as Casca Highbottom passes one of your papers back. It had taken quite your strength when you were given the task to make new proposals and implements for the new Hunger Games, crying to your best friend Coriolanus about how you’ll never get it done on time.
“Oh yeah?” He asks, looking over at your paper. There was a bright red A+ along with the sloppy cursive writing of Good Job Miss. L/N!
“Good job,” Coriolanus says, snaking his arms over to pull you back into his chest, placing a sloppy but soft kiss on your cheek. “Knew you had it in you.”
The scene makes Arachne Crane let out a moan of disgust, rolling her eyes as she turned to another corner.
“What’s wrong Arachne?” One of her friends asked, and she only points to the two of you, who were too engrossed in each other to notice.
“Snow and L/N, are we even surprised?” Livia let out a huff of irritation.
When Casca Highbottom announced that you all will be meeting in the largest room of the Academy, you thought it was to finally announce the winner of the Plinth prize. The only rightful ones were you and Coriolanus, anyway. And maybe Sejanus, the boy whom you’ve gotten soft for these past few days.
You and Coriolanus entered arm in arm, avoxes had wove through the crowd of students with trays of posca, a concoction of watery wine laced with herbs and honey.
Coriolanus quickly grabbed two goblets, handing one to you and then chugging it quickly down his throat. For a minute, it burned.
“Oh there you two are,” Arachne waves you over, her face gloomy. “Obviously, no amount of bribing would make Sejanus tell me who won the prize. Not like it matters, we all know I deserve it most.”
There was an eye roll from Felix Ravinstill. “Sure Arachne, and I’m the richest man on the planet.”
That earned him a scowl from the girl, who then turned her attention to Sejanus. “He can have as much money as he wants, but he’ll always be district, you know.”
A few of your classmates laugh, nodding in bitter agreement as they watched Sejanus conversing with one of the professors.
“Right.” Coriolanus mumbles, surprising you. He hadn’t ever agreed with Arachne before—calling her a psychopath even—so why was he now?
“Oh please,” the girl snaps back. “You and Y/N are friends with him.”
“We tolerate him,” Coriolanus says, his hand that was holding yours became tighter. “He’s district.”
When Sejanus comes, the murmur of your classmates grows silent, and from the looks of it, he could already tell they weren’t saying much good about him.
“It’s time to assign the tributes.” Is all he says, motioning to Dean Highbottom.
“As you all know, the Plinth prize and money would usually go to the student with the highest mark,” Highbottom begins, clearing his throat. “But this year, we’d like to do something different.”
You can tell Coriolanus has stiffened in his seat. Even though you want to hold his hand and caress it, you know you can’t, so you keep your desire inside.
“Whoever is the best mentor among all of you will be able to win the Plinth prize.”
“Oh that is not fair!” Livia complains. “What if I get some poor weak district girl and she dies 2 minutes in the games?”
“It’s not just about your tribute winning,” Highbottom says, “you will be assessed.”
You and Coriolanus sit through the announcement of which mentor gets which tribute. You had gotten Coral, a girl from District 4 while Coriolanus had gotten the girl from 12. Lucy Gray Baird, apparently.
“Hey, you okay?” You say as you two stepped out from the Academy. “Look at me Coryo.”
He looks up from the ground, his eyebrows furrowed and his face upset.
“He hates me.” He says, referring to Dean Highbottom. “Always has, always will. Gave me the worst district of them all.”
“Hey,” you say, cradling his face as your eyes quickly scanned his. “Don’t say that. We saw Lucy Gray on stage, she can sing and she sure as hell can put on a charismatic personality for the crowd. You’ll be okay, Coryo.”
“I don’t know,”
This was the first time you saw Coriolanus so upset, so lost in his thought. Without a second thought, you pulled his head towards you, giving him a long kiss on his jawline.
“Sleepover tonight?” You ask as you pull away.
“Sure, I just have to tell Tigris first.”
That night, you and Coriolanus talk about your futures under your warm white covers, limbs tangling one another.
“Do you ever want kids, Coryo?” You ask, saying anything that came to your mind.
“Maybe.” He replies. “Only if I find a girl as worthy as you.”
His words make you smile, pulling him closer to your body. “As worthy as me?”
“Mhm. Or else I’d marry out of convenience. For profit. To ensure no one takes advantage of me.”
You shake your head, placing a small kiss on his forehead. “I hope that never happens, Coryo.”
“I hope it never does either.”
You turn over to turn off your nightlight, snuggling yourself under the covers as Coriolanus throws an arm around your frame.
“Goodnight Coryo.”
“Goodnight Y/N.”
- - -
After Coriolanus’ little involvement in the tribute cage, Highbottom, to say the least, was unimpressed. He claimed Coriolanus was breaking many of the Academy rules, including endangering an Academy student. However, he agreed to let the mentors visit their tributes and offer them water or food.
You were talking to Coral, handling her a glass bottle filled with water. If you couldn’t get her out of here, the least you could do is hydrate and feed her.
You turn to look at Arachne, who was busy swinging water in front of her tribute. Her tribute almost looked pitiful as the bottle always seemed to swing out of her reach.
Coriolanus was talking to Lucy Gray, a little too close for your liking, but you knew it was just to discuss strategies.
“You think you’re gonna make it in the arena?” You ask Coral, who only glared at you, taking small sips of water at a time.
“Hey.” Coriolanus suddenly comes up from behind you, once again wrapping his arms around your shoulders before bringing your face in for a long kiss on the cheek.
“Hi,” you giggle, continuing to hold on him as you turned your entire body to face him.
Coral let out a scowl of disgust, eyeing you and Coriolanus up and down.
“Coral, meet my friend, Coriolanus Snow. He’s Lucy Gray’s mentor.” You say, pointing at the girl who was currently talking to another tribute; Jessup, you think his name is.
Coral doesn’t respond, only continuing to snarl at the two of you.
“They’re like wild animals,” Coriolanus whispers in your ear.
“Hey pretty boy,” she finally speaks, smirking from ear to ear. “You were on the truck earlier.”
“I was,” he replied curtly.
“Maybe I can’t kill you—but I’ll definitely kill your tribute.”
Before you could hold Coriolanus back from jumping at Coral, you all hear a scream.
Arachne’s tribute had somehow managed to grab the bottle of water, smashing it against the metal cage and stabbing Arachne directly in the throat with it.
“Oh my god!” You scream, running over to the girl. Although you and Coriolanus disliked her, she was still your classmate, and someone who you spoke to on a regular basis.
“You two, off.” The peacekeepers say, grabbing ahold of you and Coriolanus; dragging you away from the scene.
- - -
The walk to Coriolanus’s home was quiet, aside from occasional twig snapping and leaves falling.
“I’m scared,” you finally say, staring up at Coriolanus. His icy blue eyes bore into yours before they softened.
“I know,” he says, cupping your head in his hands. “I know you’re scared, that should’ve never happened.”
“But it did,” you say, placing your hands into Coriolanus’s coat to keep them warm. “What if it happens to us next, Coryo?”
“Hey.” Coriolanus’s face is only a meter away from yours, lips almost touching. “I’ll never let that happen to you, do you understand? As long as I’m alive, no one will hurt you.”
You nod, a few tears rolled down your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Coriolanus wipes away your tears with his thumb, one of his fingers caressed your cheek lightly. “They’ll have to shoot me dead before anything can happen to you.”
And before you could let out another one of your worries, Coriolanus leans in, placing a much awaited kiss on your lips. He pulls away for air after a minute, forehead against yours.
“I love you, Y/N. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, ever.”
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awearywritersworld · 6 months
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men are so quick to blame the gods
ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist
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humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.
so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.
nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.
that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.
luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.
you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.
when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.
"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.
a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.
it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.
"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.
a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."
"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."
he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.
as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.
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the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.
you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.
"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."
you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.
"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."
"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."
"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."
"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."
your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."
you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.
"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.
"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"
"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."
sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.
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over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.
it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.
it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"
your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"
"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."
though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."
"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."
you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."
it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.
he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."
"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"
"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."
you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."
he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.
"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."
his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"
he muses over your question briefly.
"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?
you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."
"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"
you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"
"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."
"oh. well that's, um, good."
he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.
"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.
"stop what?"
"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."
he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."
"see? that's much better."
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"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.
you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.
the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.
when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.
"w-what do you want?"
"i seem to recall asking you a question."
you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.
"i'm not crying," you declare.
sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."
you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."
yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.
and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.
"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.
your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."
"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.
"don't flatter yourself."
he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.
he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.
but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."
you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.
"promise?"
for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—
"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."
"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."
"...night, brat."
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less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.
though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.
he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.
he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.
at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.
when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.
you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.
"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."
"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"
he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.
you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"
he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."
you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."
he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.
he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."
"but you won't."
he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"
"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."
he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.
"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.
the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.
"i don't know."
"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."
you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.
it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.
he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.
you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.
"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."
just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.
"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"
the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"
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"My Little Partner in Crime."
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pairing : father!Alastor x daughter!reader
synopsis : you spent nearly 80 years by your father's side without him knowing who you truly were. Don't you think it's about time you told him the truth? Would he despise you?
warnings : weep bitches.
word count : 3,106
          It had been 76 years since she had passed. Yet she remained in the body of a 15 year old girl. In hell, of course no one aged. Not many child sinners were often found in Hell but she was special. While she wasn't an overlord, she was a brilliant mind behind one.
           In life, [Y/N] felt she had been misplaced in the world. So many terrible things had happened at such a young age. She got by though. Through learned methods and maybe a little bit of her genes had helped too.
            She was orphaned at the age of 10 years old. Father died before she was born and mama fell severely ill when she was 10. It was an unfortunate circumstance for such a young child to be in, however it only got worse from there. After both parents had died, she ended up in a very poor fostering system. In which none of the children were treated right. It was so much worse for her.
             [Y/N] was the daughter of an infamous serial killer in Louisiana. Which did not look good to potential foster parents. If her father was a fucking psychopath, what would she be like? In a way, they weren't far off in their speculations. And they proved to be right later on.
            Her mother didn't find out about the love of her life's deeds until he was pronounced dead one eventful night. Gunshot to the head in the midst of burying his own victim. Regardless of what was said about the man, she still loved him all the years after before falling to her own demise. It wasn't like he was a crazed monster, in fact, he likely saved more people than he killed. He only went after the worst of the worst.
            It was obvious that the man loved his wife more than life itself. More than his job. It saddened her knowing that he would never get to meet his daughter. Children were never planned or even talked about between the two considering sex was kind of a sensitive topic for the both of them and for different reasons. So the one time they decided to 'experiment' she ended up conceiving. Funny enough, 6 weeks later was when he died. Neither parents had knowledge of [Y/N] presence yet.
          [Y/N] was scorned throughout the entirety of her foster community. Not for anything she did, no no. But for something her father did. No one wanted her. Regardless, she was happy that she was on her own in a way. Her 4 years in foster care were quite peaceful.
            It wasn't until she was 14 that she had been finally picked out of the system. An old man, maybe in his fifties, had come to get her. The fostering system, not wanting her to continue her stay any longer, kept their dealings with him under wraps so everything stayed out of legal documents.  [Y/N] wasn't adopted, no, she was to become his wife and to bear several of his children. Figures. What else would a man like him want in a child. Women were still known as the caretakers at the time. Nobody in this day and age was evolved like her father whom treated her mother like a queen when they were alive.
            Thankfully it never got too bad before she decided to take her fate into her own hands. She was an avid reader. Her favorite things to read were the medical books found in her room when she was in the system. So she eventually learned a thing or two. It started off with a crushed pill in his drink every morning to stave off his libido. So he was never in the mood to touch her. (Don't ask where she gets the medication, it's a secret.)
               Wearing him down slowly every day and night for the next year before his untimely death. An insulin overdose. It'd be like he died in his sleep. During an autopsy, no one would even know. She grinned ear to ear, feeling the man's pulse disappear from his neck. She took a breath before calling 911 in a faked panic tone. Convincing actually. "Hello? I n-need help. My husband isn't b-breathing, I think he may be dead. Please come save him! He can't die! I love him!" She managed to force tears from her eyes.
             Ultimately, he did indeed pass away and she was finally on her own. I guess it wasn't a totally bad set up since his property, belongings, and money went to [Y/N]. It was short lived, unfortunately. All that money that went to ballrooms and jazz music. It was paradise and worth every penny she thought. Only to die at the age of 15 from an infected fox bite. (Random, right? Just like dad's lol)
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           [Y/N] had been in Hell for 76 years. She wasn't well known unlike her companion. Sticking to the man like glue after all this time. She worked well with the Radio Demon. Their minds complemented each other very well. Almost to a point of familiarity. When she first arrived in Hell, it was like she had made a big boom in the talk of the town. She was a mastermind and very talented at killing and pranks. It sparked a lot of the overlords' interest, especially since she wasn't interested in becoming an overlord herself. All she wanted was to enjoy her dark and very humorous afterlife. [Y/N] of course declined all their business proposals, even the famous Vox.
             There was one she couldn't turn away from. He was charming and the two immediately had an unbreakable connection. The connection itself was unreadable but it was there nonetheless. He made a deal with her, promising absolute protection from the exterminators and other overlords and in turn she would help with his dealings. It was a fair trade, the Radio Demon was a bit impulsive with his actions while [Y/N] methodically planned all her own dealings 30 steps ahead. And with her being 15, well, she was thought to be an easy target.
              It was actually strange, they look alike too. The same color scheme, same nose and eyes. Both shared that constant shit-eating grin and composure. The only difference between them being that he's an elk demon while she, a fox demon. It was literally just the tail, antlers, and hairstyle that set them apart.
               Overtime, the radio demon, opened up to her piece by piece. Alastor, that was his name. It didn't take to long for her to come to the realization that he was in fact her beloved father that her mom talked about oh so much. It was clear. It wasn't just their appearance but mannerisms that were so similar. Her name being the same as his mothers surely didn't help either. He thought nothing of it. Alastor didn't know, he was too oblivious to anything that wasn't himself. And up to now, it never felt like the right time to tell him, so it's been a secret.
            Turns out she wasn't the only one to have this realization. Carmilla Carmine along with many other overlords figured it out before even she. Carmilla being a mother herself felt empathy for her and talked to her whenever she needed it. Rosie found a deep love for [Y/N] herself, acting as a mother figure as well. The little darling was just like her bestie, Alastor, how could she not? Other overlords weren't as reasonable and often threatened to use the knowledge as a weapon against her. What would Alastor think? Did he ever want a child? Would he stray away from her if he found out? Often enough, the overlords who threatened her ended up without their lives by her hands by the end of the day.
         Seventy-six years, Alastor had kept [Y/N] by his side every step he took. It wasn't until his powerful fight with Vox that he decided to step away. He disappeared for 7 years without notice. It broke her heart into a million pieces but just like before in life, she marched on and kept her promise to him.
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           It wasn't until news arrived in Pentagon city about this Hazbin Hotel that she'd heard Alastor's name after so long. He was working as the host of the hotel. It wasn't often [Y/N] showed emotion but this time she couldn't hold it in, tears streamed down her face. Her sturdy smile began to slowly break apart. It seemed her father was her weakness. While he didn't want to admit it, it was mutual. He left without saying a word to avoid seeing her disappointment in those little eyes of hers. He didn't want her see him so weak. In a way, he subconsciously felt he had some kind of responsibility over her.
            The walk to the hotel was nerve-wracking for [Y/N]. Seeing him after all this time felt bittersweet. She was excited of course but she was awfully upset about his random disappearance.
Knock, knock, knock
        The Princess of Hell had opened the door, to her surprise to see a red and black fox demon with a huge smile on her face. Charlie was suddenly having a flash of deja vu. Where else has she seen this before? In any case, it wasn't the most obvious thing to pop out at her. This girl was a child. There shouldn't be a child in Hell, whose cruel idea was it to send her down here Charlie thought.
          "Princess Charlotte, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is [Y/N]." She bent down pulling her dress between her fingers to greet her.
           "Just call me Charlie! It's nice to meet you too! Are you here to stay in the hotel? If so we would love to have you here with us. Especially someone as cute as you." Charlie reached out to pinch the young demon's cheeks before composing herself.
           "I actually am, among other things. I was hoping I could be of service to you." Charlie sat questioning her proposal for a second.
             "I'll gladly accept any help I can get but love, you are a child, don't you want to focus on going to heaven and get out of this place?" Charlie bent down to her level and took the girl's hands in her own.
              "Don't let her age fool you, my dear. She is a very capable demon. In fact, better than most overlords I know." The familiar radio static voice tickled [Y/N] ears as Alastor materialized behind Charlie. He smiled genuinely as he held out his arms, waiting for her embrace. Tears suddenly streamed down as she ran into his arms. The two holding onto each other as if one of them would disappear forever.
               "I apologize for my sudden departure, darling. I hope you know that I would never leave you willingly. It was the only way I could keep my side of the deal." He stroked her hair in attempt to calm her sobbing. She couldn't say anything, she had already forgiven him a while back. Alastor couldn't do anything to make her hate him.
               "Alastor aren't you going to introduce us? Who's this sweet thing?" Angel dust walked to the doors to join him and Charlie. The rest of the sinners in the lobby following suit.
              "I guess you could say she is my partner in crime. This little darling has been by my side for nearly 80 years. I owe a lot of my victories to her truth be told." Everyone stood around confused, expecting a different answer. There's absolutely no way she could JUST be his partner they look too much ali-
             "Al, is that.. is that all she is?" [Y/N] sent vaggie daggering eyes as a warning not to continue her statement. Getting the hint, Vaggie backed off and went to sit on the couch in the center of the room. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."   
              "Hey [Y/N], it's been a few months. How you holding up. Still getting into trouble I hear." Husk gives the fox demon some pats on the head.
               "It's nice to see you again Husker, I would like to thank you for looking out for me these past few years." Her grin grew looking up at the fluffy demon.
             "Just doing what the boss told me." Alastor often had souls he was contracted with look after her in his absence. There wasn't much he could do, but knowing she was safe and sound and thriving eased his cold heart. It wasn't often he found himself tied to someone. But there he was, worried for the safety of someone else. A child no less. It took a while to understand his feelings but he eventually did accept it. He cared about someone other than himself.
               Introductions to the residents went smoothly, all of them having such lively personalities she thought. What an amazing new family to have. Besides missing Mama, this was much better than what she had in life ironic as it is.
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           The times were changing and everything felt still, peaceful. [Y/N] had an amazing new family and business. Angel Dust being like an amazing big brother and Charlie like an amazing older sister. However the biggest change was how close she got to Alastor. He insisted her bedroom be near his radio tower so he could watch over her. It was so out of character for the residents that have only known him since he joined the hotel staff.
              She was back to being glued to his hip. Her charm helping to gain more residents with her adorableness. It brought on a whole lot of business deals for the feared radio demon as well. Everything was perfect. Something still weighed on [Y/N]'s heart. Alastor needed to know the truth. Why the two of them have such a strong connection. And why they can't seem to ever let each other go. It's not something easily brought up in conversation. Thankfully, luck was on her side one day during one of their business outings.
           "So.. do we have a deal?" Alastor held his hand out to damaged overlord. The enemy's eyes flickered over to the fox demon, causing a distraction. Long enough for his partner to sneak a gun to the young girl's temple. Her composure stabled, a smile creeping on her face.
            "Before I agree to this deal, you are going to hear me out. Or my partner here will end the little girl's life. And you'll be pickingup brain matter off the ground." Alastor's eye twitched, returning his hands to the top of his cane. His expression eased back into his typical smile, seeing her unfazed by the imminent threat.
         "Fine. What do you want?" The man smiled seeing Alastor accept his conditions.
           "[Y/N]. I want the girl." The Radio Demon's breath hitched in his throat upon hearing the request. Never. Never in a million years, he thought. "You see that BITCH had me killed. Secretly drugging me for a year. Didn't think I would have noticed, huh? She never payed for it, she never had to answerfor her crime. Got her out of that shithole of a foster care and this is what I get?"
            He forcibly grabbed the collar of her prim and proper dress, picking her up to his face. Her ears folded to the back of her head, scowling at the man now. "You were going to make me a child bride."
         "You are a woman. You do what I say. If you don't accept my proposal, I'll tell daddy here your little secret. Won't he be surprised." Her eyes turned red at his words, both her and Alastor, in his demon form, shoving an arm through the man's chest in unison. All he felt in that moment was fear, dying for a second time.
            It took a second for the man's words to process in Alastor's head. Secret? What secret? He didn't want to pry but it was obviously tearing [Y/N] up inside. Her expression said it all. All he wanted was to know she was okay. It was time to let him know. And whatever decision he made, she was going to be okay with.
           "There's something I need to tell you."
           "Darling, you don't have to tell me anything if you are not comfortable. That fuck was just trying to get under your skin." And it worked.
             "No. You need to know." [Y/N]'s lip began to quiver in fear. Scared she was suddenly going to be a disappointment. How could she keep this a secret for so long. He had the right to know. Now. "My name is [first name] [Shared last name]. I..  I am your daughter."
                The gears in his head turned as he tried to process the new information. When something suddenly clicked in his head. The love of his life just before he died, was constantly sick and had been for a few weeks. Alastor had just thought she had a cold and constantly doted on her, trying to provide the best medicine he could.. hm.. find. She never took it thankfully. She was pregnant.
           He hadn't thought about it before now but it has come to his attention that the reason why he cared for this child so much was because she reminded him of his wife. She was careful with every decision, she was always calm in every situation she's been in, and they both had that beautiful fire in their eyes. The fire that let everyone know that they weren't going to submit to nobody. The dynamic between him and his wife wasn't much different from the dynamic between him and his daughter.
              Why hadn't Alastor seen it before. [Y/N] was obviously named after his mother. The girl was literally his mini me. He couldn't help but let a tear or two drop from his eyes before bending his knees to look at her at her level.
            "Tell me... what uh. What happened to your mother?" Alastor held the girl's cheek in his hand caressing it gently and wiping away her own tears, slightly smearing the blood on his hand.
             "Mama died of the influenza virus when I was 10. I'm sure she's in Heaven, having the time of her life." Alastor pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, never wanting to let go.
            "After all this time, I've had a precious piece of her with me. And I won't ever leave you alone again."
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A/N: Yall let me know if you liked this concept, this was fun to do. I know it's kind of out of character for Alastor but I hope it healed something in y'all with daddy issues 🙏
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goresuki · 2 months
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my thoughts on Charlastor and Alastor calling Charlie "the daughter he never had"
this will be a very long rant/vent/whatever. also, a kind of... agressive one. if u wanna read, read it, if u don't, don't, idc and idm. I don't know if some antis take things for convenience (that way) or if they really are naive, because the fact that a manipulative guy like Alastor, whose intentions are unknown, tells Charlie that he sees her as "the daughter he never had" DOES NOT SOUND as CUTE to me as many DO seem to think it does.
I don't know if they don't realize the relationship Charlie has with her parents and how Alastor seems to take advantage of her.
From the pilot we realize that Charlie has no contact with her mother. In the series it is established that they have not seen each other for 7 years.
The first episode JUST talks about Charlie having so called "daddy issues" as her father, Lucifer, is an absentee father.
Charlie appears to NOT have had a close relationship with ANY of the two for some time (or quite some time).
The only person Charlie has is Vaggie, to protect and care for her (here's why Vaggie is so "boring", as some people call her, as she is acting as a guide/parental figure for Charlie, even though their relationship is romantic).
Where am I going with these points? That I think it's complete nonsense for people to take super-literally what Alastor has said: "you're like the daughter I always wanted to have".
Isn't it convenient for the most feared overlord (not the strongest) to approach Charlie and find that she's not as vulnerable as he thought (because Vaggie is there)? Isn't it convenient for Alastor to make a very absolute polarity between Vaggie and him in the pilot, where Vaggie comes off as the "bitter one" and he as the "fun guy"? Isn't it convenient for Alastor to PROVE to Charlie over and over again that HE knows what SHE NEEDS by pulling his tricks? And, oh, surprise… Isn't it even more convenient that when Lucifer arrives, who has a lousy relationship with his daughter, Charlie, Alastor rubs it in his face that he is doing everything that he (Lucifer) is responsible for, and furthermore, hits him right where it hurts, manipulating Charlie so that she seriously BELIEVES that Alastor REALLY sees her that way, and thus making her STILL not have a GUIDE other than HIMSELF?
I'll make it simple for you. You know how narcissists work? They will make you believe that YOU are special, and at the same time, they will ALIENATE you from your loved ones to keep gaining whatever they need from you. Charlie is, literally, his supply.
Alastor is a psychopath and narcissist. Do you really think that someone who can't genuinely empathize and love is literally going to feel affection for a grown woman who is very naive and doesn't even have power over her kingdom because she is so immature? Don't you think it is VERY OBVIOUS that he has literally said to her face: "I'm going to manipulate you in my favor because thanks to me you have all these upgrades in your stupid hotel"?
Alastor hasn't as such made a deal with Charlie, but he's winning her over in HIS way.
And I don't know who's crazier: charlastor shippers like me, who don't give a damn about canon and want to enjoy shipping WITHOUT bothering ANYONE (and don't come out with the stupidity that it's a "proship". Proshipper doesn't even mean "problematic ship", it means that you are FOR shipping whatever you want, living and letting live, without HARASSING others. Let's remember that Hazbin Hotel characters DON'T. FUCKING. EXIST. Alastor is not going to come out of the screen to say: "omg, user, thanks for defending me from those evil shippers uwu", or Charlie to say: "thanks for defending me, you're so good, user…. You're such a good person". Pro: "in favor of", shipper: "shipper, ship", however you want to call it. Don't modify terms to suit yourselves because you can tell that many don't even know how suffixes and prefixes work in words. Neither Charlie nor Alastor are going to die because someone shipped them. They are FICTITIOUS characters. The FANON is not going to change the CANON. Learn to sepparate stuff, ffs. Go out and touch grass once in a while) or antis who put on a pedestal what Alastor said, believing it as a justification to ATTACK people in the fandom who shipped something different, according to them, "problematic".
There they do forget that Alastor is a manipulator, that he is a person with a LOT of arsenal to get his way. There they forget that he IS a guy Charlie should NOT trust. There it DOES count because IT CONVENIENTS THEM. That's when the canon MATTERS to them. There it COUNTS. It doesn't matter if Charlie gets hurt because of trusting Alastor, they only see what they want to see. If you guys are going to humanize this fucking characters, at least be a little bit logical. Got me? Remember what Viv said?: "ship whatever you want, JUST DON'T HARASS ANYONE". These people say: "fuck what Viv says", but on this occasion, since she DID say something convenient for them, it DOES matter what Viv says now, doesn't it? Hypocrites.
Charlie has no one beyond Alastor, and I don't remember where I read that theory, whether it was here or elsewhere, where they talked about Alastor looking for a way to alienate the hotel itself in one way or another. That's why he doesn't use very flashy technology (Vox can travel through the latest electronics, and the hotel has an old box TV), nor does he go out of his way to provide anything of good quality (like the video camera). The hotel has its own power supply (we see this when the blackout occurs during the song between Alastor and Vox).
Alastor DOES NOT WANT Charlie as his daughter, he's just taking advantage of her to get whatever he needs to get out of her.
Charlie doesn't even seem to know exactly how her powers work, and the only person who can teach her is Lucifer, her father. And if Lucifer is out of the equation, Alastor can do whatever he wants.
He's hit Lucifer right in the jugular, and Lucifer knows that all the power in the world can't make up for the wrong he did to Charlie.
Anyway, if a real anti thinks Charlastor is problematic because "AlASTor AlreADy SaiD hE sEES hEr As a DauGhtER," I remind them that they are not dealing with a character who cares about others beyond maintaining his own status, and ffs... they're not even real. KEEP SHIPPING. KEEP DRAWING. KEEP MAKING FANFICS. FUCK THESE PEOPLE THAT TRY TO HARASS YOU, FUCK THESE PEOPLE THAT TRY TO MAKE EVERYTHING "PURE" ON A SHOW ABOUT DEMONS AND HELL. FUCK THESE PEOPLE TRYING TO MAKE A FANDOM THEIR OWN FUCKING WAY BECAUSE THEY CAN'T HANDLE THERE'S A LOT OF DIFFERENT VIEWS. FUCK THEIR SAVIOR COMPLEX, JUST COMING AROUND WHEN IT'S ALL ABOUT CHARACTERS THAT DON'T EXIST, FEEL, OR THINK FOR THEMSELVES, BUT DISAPPEARS ANYTIME SOMEONE REAL COMES, HARASSING AND SENDING DEATH THREATS TO THEM. FUCK THESE PEOPLE, GIVING PSYCHOLOGICAL DIAGNOSES OVER A FUCKING TIKTOK VIDEO OTHER ANTI MADE JUST BASING THEIR THEORIES ON THEIR FIST RESULT ON GOOGLE. FUCK YALL, CAUSE YOU'RE THE REASON YOU WHINE ABOUT THIS FANDOM. JUST AS WE SAY IN SPANISH: O LA BEBES, O LA DERRAMAS.
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cheeseanonioncrisps · 2 months
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I really want the show to go into more detail about Husk's backstory as an overlord, partly because I feel like it's something the fandom is kinda glossing over and partly because it's lowkey one of the biggest obstacles that a Husk/Angel relationship would have into overcome.
'Loser Baby' emphasises the similarities between Angel and Husk's situations, but it also (probably deliberately, since Husk is the one leading it) brushes aside one of the most major differences between them.
Namely that when Husk tells Angel that he's not the only one who sold his soul, he's not just singing about himself.
Husk sold his soul to Alastor, yeah (or lost it at least, which amounts to the same thing), but he also traded in souls. He was that “psychopathic freak”, and was operating fro long enough to achieve Overlord status.
And, honestly? Having your soul owned by Husker back in the day probably sucked.
The one benefit of soul contracts for the person selling their soul is that they seem to get a fair amount of say in how the contract is written.
Angel's contract, for example, apparently has a clause stating that he's only under Valentino's jurisdiction when he's in the studio. (Which, btw, puts a whole other spin on why Val is so pissed when he moves out of studio accommodation and into the Hotel.) And Val is apparently bound to that. Even though he's pissed off and actively wants to put Angel in his place, he can't make any moves against him in the club.
Equally, since most overlords seem to be associated with a specific location/industry, you can generally choose who your working for and therefore roughly what kind of stuff you're gonna be doing.
In practice there seems to be a lot of manipulation and coercion going on on the part of the Overlords making these contracts— they're not fair by any means— but the sinners signing them are theoretically at least guaranteed the right to a (somewhat) informed choice and some control over the deals they make.
Having an Overlord who uses human souls to pay his gambling debts, however, completely undermines all that.
Imagine going into work for your job running the roulette games at the casino only to be told that the boss played a bad hand in a game with Valentino, and so you're a sex worker now.
Or being traded to someone who has you fighting turf wars for them, and realising that your contract doesn't have any clauses to protect your personal safety because you only signed up to be a bartender.
Or selling your soul for a job near your home and family so you can guarantee their protection, only to be traded to someone whose territory is on the other side of the pentagram.
Husk is a victim of his own addiction, yeah, which is one of the reasons why Angel relates to him. But his backstory implies that there must be a significant number of people out there who were also victims of Husk's addiction, and may not be as sympathetic. Dude basically owned other people as property (… we have a word for that) and then literally played games with their lives.
And like, I'm not saying he hasn't changed. He seems more empathetic on the show than his backstory would imply, and apart from anything else, he's had a pretty clear object lesson about what it's like to be on the receiving end of that sort of thing. (Ngl, I'm pretty sure one of the reasons Alastor keeps him around is because he's the type to find the irony amusing.)
But like, he's in this place where he can relate to Angel Dust's situation, while at the same time probably also being able to relate to Valentino and Alastor's perspectives (although I doubt he was quite as bad as Val to work for).
And I'm curious as to what would happen, later in the series, if the gang met someone who had sold their soul to Husk at one point. Someone who would also be able to relate to Angel's situation, but with Husk as their version of Valentino.
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youraverageaemondsimp · 3 months
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“Seven Above.” // Highly Religious Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader
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DD:DNE ;; Reader discretion is heavily advised.
WARNINGS: noncon & dubcon, forced breeding, forced beliefs, breeding kink, religious themes and psychopathic aemond, dark!aemond, misogynistic views, pressure to fit into the gender norms, forced pregnancy, multiple orgasms, brainwashing(?), mindfucking, + not proofread. PLEASE BE EXTREMELY MINDFUL OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS
Block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to refrain from seeing my dark works.
WC: 2.1k
A/N: fic contains dark content, do not proceed to read if you are easily triggered or find the topics mentioned above triggering. // dividers by @cafekitsune
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Aemond was a man of the faith of the seven
He was extremely religious, his mother’s belief in the faith has also made him follow it, though he studied about dragons and old gods of Valyria, he didn't particularly follow them. His need for impressing his own mother, followed by his grandfather made him follow this faith more.
The only problem? He was way too religious and strict, but also hypocritical, he had shamed Aegon for being married to Helaena, but also desired her for himself, he would taunt his nephews for being bastards, yet also had one for himself with a common whore he could not remember the name of. He doesn't acknowledge them as sins however, saying that they are forgiven by the gods as he visits the sept daily.
Alicent did not know what to say, for when she would speak to him about what he's doing and points out his wrongdoings, he simply ignores her and tells her that her job as a woman isn't to judge, but rather understand and nurture, to which she couldn't argue against. So she remained silent.
Everything was going the same as usual, until Aemond was summoned by his grandfather, who had selected a proposal for him.
“The woman is Y/N of the L/N house, a woman loved by many, it will benefit us if we formed an alliance with her family, what do you think of it Aemond?” His grandfather questioned, to which Aemond nodded, saying it isn't too much of a bad match considering they had more to gain than lose, and so the proposal was quickly made.
Aemond only saw you on the day of the wedding, when your house arrived in the throne room, where Aegon sat in the middle, handling the matters. You had not shied away from looking in his eye, to which he was caught off guard by, his mind quickly realising how you are the feisty type.
The ceremony went well, Aemond refused the bedding ceremony and took you to your martial chambers before bedding you. He was gentle of course, he didn't do anything that was too painful.
One thing about Aemond is that, you should never get on his bad side, he is cruel just as he is lenient, you heard of what he had done to his own nephew, to riverrun, to the strong house, leaving absolutely no one alive from that bloodline, no woman or bastard was spared.
The first month flew by quickly, Aemond had gotten to know you better, and he quickly realised that you both don't share the same ideologies on most of the stuff, you even dared to speak back to him, to which he excused you of. Arguments with him on small things have started to happen, his opinion contradicting yours, and his refusal to understand your point of view made you extremely unaccepted, yet you still tried to convey your feelings to him, hoping somewhere deep down in your heart that he'd understand. After all, you had grown to love him a little. He was far better than any husband, most of them didn't even let their wife speak to them.
That was until the topic of children had come when you were dining together.
“Wife, Have you gotten your moon's blood yet?” He asked and you nodded, “Yes, husband, it passed a few days ago and it is regular.” you tell him confused as to why he is asking this, “Are you perhaps barren?” He asks, which makes you feel shocked, and quite offended, “No! Why would you ask such a thing like that?” You ask, eyes slightly wide with shock. “Then why aren't you with child yet?” He questions as if you had any control over anything that happens after intercouse.
“It is only the second month, and besides….” You bite your lip and he raises an eyebrow, “What is it?” You sigh heavily, “I do not know how to ask of you this.” You tell him honestly, “What is it that you need wife? Dresses? Jewellery, do not be shy to ask, I am your husband after all. It is my duty to provide.” He rests his hand on yours, squeezing it in a reassuring way.
“I–” you take a deep breath, “I do not want children, at least, not yet.” you spit out.
It's almost as if everything had frozen in place, the air becomes silent with only the crackling sounds of the fireplace being heard. The tension becomes more imminent in the air as the Aemond continues to remain silent and not do anything, except directly stare at you.
His grip on your hand suddenly tightens, making you wince and you look at him pleadingly, “Have you gone mad?” He stands up, forcing you to stand up as well and you grip his arm tightly, not wanting to fall before balancing yourself, “Please- I am not yet ready, let me prepare myself mentally first.” You beg him and his other hand grabs you by your throat and pulls you closer to him, his grip on your throat begins to tighten, causing you to lose bloodflow to your head.
“I have done nothing except do my duty, be the ideal husband, provide for you, all while allowing you to express yourself yet it seems I was too lenient on you.” He growls, “Because here you are, asking me, to allow you to not have children. It is your sole duty as a wife and a woman, and you could not even provide such a thing?” He let goes of your throat, making you engulf a huge amount of air as you tried to calm down.
“Every woman is the image of the mother, she should have a natural nurturing personality towards anyone, especially to their own children, yet here you are refusing to be a mother to your own child or rather having one of yours, it is disgusting.” He says meanly and you glare at him, “I never said that I never wanted to be a mother, I asked you to give me time to which you are– hmmgh!” You are dragged by Aemond to the bed and thrown on it, you quickly lean on your elbows, fear gnawing in your stomach as you look at Aemond who seemed so furious at you, your heartbeat accelerated as he just stared down at you, like a predator staring at its prey.
“Your sin is forgiven, wife, I remembered how some women think they do not want children until they do, and then they become the best mothers and perfect wives known to man, maybe you are of that same category.” He keeps on talking, and you stare at him, confused and in fear, what in the seven hell was he talking about?
“It is no surprise if that is the case, luckily, there is a cure for that, and that is to get you pregnant, and I shall do just that, simultaneously fulfilling the duties as your husband.” He leans down and caresses your cheek. Your eyes widen when you catch his expression in the illuminating moonlight. He was smiling, yet the smile did not reach his eyes, Your stomach began to churn as goosebumps arose on your skin, he doesn't seem like the man you married anymore.
Before you could make an escape, Aemond pounces you and pushes you down onto the bed, you thrash in his hold trying to push him off but he holds your hands together and pins them up before grabbing your cheeks harshly and spitting on your face, “Behave, I'm treating you.” You began to tremble knowing he had gone completely mad.
“Let go of me! Aemond!” You scream and he pushes his hand over your mouth, “Shut the fuck up.” He tells you before grabbing your dress and tearing it off your body, the bodice coming along with it, causing your tits to spill out. He gropes and squeezes them, “I wonder how nice they'd look when they swell with milk hm?” He coos, before descending his lips onto your nipple, you use your now free hands to push him away but he doesn't budge, you try to pull him by his hair but he bites harshly onto your nipple causing you to let go of his hair in pain, he pulls away and looks at you angrily.
“Behave.” He says sternly and you flinch, never having heard Aemond use that specific tone before, it was extremely scary. “Aemond, please.” You plead him but he doesn't care, simply ripping off the remains and pushing you up the bed and prying your legs open. “You'd look so beautiful, all round with my child in your belly, I pray to the mother to bless us with a child.” He undos his breeches and your eyes widen in horror, knowing what is about to come.
You watched in silence as he lined himself against your entrance, prodding the tip at the very beginning of your hole and began to push inside, you shut your eyes tightly and clenched the sheets below you, a pained cry leaving your mouth at the stretch of your cunt by his cock, unprepared.
He soon fully sheathed himself inside you, and wastes no time before beginning to thrust, whines and gasps leave your mouth at his actions, you grip onto his shoulders as he jerks you up and down, you felt ashamed when it started to begin to feel good, your body in dilemma where you push him or pull him closer.
However that sense of choice is taken away from you when he grabs your hands and pins them above you, all while pistoning his hips into yours, “Seven above, I pray that the mother blesses my dear wife with a child in her womb so she may be cured of her sinfulness, I pray that the maiden guides her into realising how she should truly perform her duty as a woman, and may the crone remove useless thoughts and guide her to the correct path.” He prays closing his eyes and your eyes widen in pure shock, shocked by the fact on how he can pray in a situation like this?
His thrusts feel so sinful, and you're convinced you've lost your mind because of the fact that you are getting pleasure from this, his lips find yours in a passionate kiss as he ends the prayer, kissing your forehead afterwards and pulls back, “You'll make a good mother, I'm sure of it.” He coos in your ear before pressing a kiss to it as well.
You soon began to recognize the familiar feeling of a rope tightening in your abdomen, the telltale sign that your peak was nearing, Aemond's hand groped your tits, pinching your nipples and rubbing his thumb over them, providing you with additional pleasure, and before you know it, you are toppling over the edge as your peak hits you, arching your back and moaning out his name loudly.
He too finishes inside you, filling your hole with his seed, before pulling out, his face hovers over your stomach and you watch as he presses a kiss on the location of where your womb would be located, “May the mother bless us.” He mutters.
You thought that would be the end, yet you were wrong, you gasp when you feel his finger scooping up his seed which leaked out and push it back into you, essentially beginning to finger you, he takes you by surprise again when you feel his warm tongue on your clit, causing your hands to fly out and grip his hair as you breathed heavily.
His tongue and finger worked simultaneously, introducing you to a sensation of a new type of overstimulation, making you peak once again.
Time blurred together and yet Aemond did not stop, you've lost count of how many times he made you peak and how many times he finished inside you, but at the end of it, you surely felt full and fucked out, your mind filled with nothing but the thought of having his children, which he kept muttering over and over again, causing you to pick up on it.
“You'll be a great mother.” He pulls you into his arms as scoot closer, burying your face in his chest, “Yes, Husband, I'll give you as many children you want.” You mutter before finally drifting off to sleep.
Aemond smirks, knowing that he has now achieved his goal, now he can slowly start shifting you into the type of wife he wanted in the first place.
It was no surprise when you found out that you were pregnant with a child, only for you to give birth to triplets.
“A blessing from the mother.” Alicent beamed, yet that sentence only made you flinch.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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strawbeerossi · 6 months
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Roped In
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer is a man on the run, a man who you turned in for countless murders. What happens when he shows up at your new home after you’re placed into WITSEC?
Content/Warnings: Dubcon (I’m just putting this just to be safe), mild gore descriptions, blood, restraints, fingering, oral (f receiving)
Word Count: 2.4K
Kinktober Day Five: Bondage
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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You never really pictured yourself running away from everything you’d ever known, to pick up and leave without as much as saying a word. Witness Protection changed that for you. You missed your friends, your coworkers, your family.. Spencer hadn’t ever been a violent person before prison. He was sweet, had a smile on his face and a playful gleam in his eye. After being framed for murder and locked up though, it was like something snapped inside of him.
He’d been faced with horrific sights behind bars, not to mention that after tampering with drugs he was supposed to move behind those cement walls, he actually enjoyed hurting the inmates who had fallen prey to the batch. He could feel a warmth flood through his veins, a blood lust clouding his vision.
He’d lost all his previous morals, the oath that he’d taken going down the drain after the first kill. It was a list of offenders who had gotten out of prison early. People like rapists, child abusers, a lot of it. He’d marked himself as an injustice collector. The only reason he got caught? Because of you. You’d walked into a scene you had no business being in. You were supposed to text him before you made it to his apartment, to let him know you were on the way. Instead, you had the bright fucking idea to walk in when he was wrist deep in some rapists intestines.
He fell off the map after that. He tossed his phone, left town, and left absolutely no trace behind. The problem with Spencer Reid becoming a monster similar to the ones he’d spent over a decade hunting down was that he knew how to get away with it. He knew how to avoid Garcia’s tracking, how to live off the grid with strictly cash and keeping his head down. 
However he had connections. Knowing that you were gone and in WITSEC, he knew he’d spend as much time as he needed to find you. After all, this was your fault. All he wanted to do was get rid of the bad men and women who did unspeakable things to the innocent people of the world. He did the prison system a favor. Overcrowding was too common, so why not let a silent helper take care of the issue? Too bad nobody looked at it logically.
He’d spent months searching for you. He’d gone through so many states, so many cities. It was exhausting. The payoff when he saw you though? Oh, it felt fucking good. You’d been relocated to Tennessee, hidden off in the mountains in hopes of hiding from the man who was on the news nationwide.
You foolishly believed you were safe, under a new name and in a new city, it was hard to track you. Besides, Spencer didn’t have the assistance of Penelope anymore, that would be his main factor in finding you. You were safe. Soon the BAU would find Spencer and this nightmare would be over.
Or you thought that to be the case. 
You were getting ready for a night out with a few new friends you’d made over the past few months, actually quite happy with the relocation. You’d gotten a job as an administrative assistant at a paper company, so you were quite content with an office job. It was actually a blessing, you had a good paying job with benefits.
You hadn’t been paying attention to the news within these past two weeks, every outlet in the nation reporting on the search for the dangerous Spencer Reid. You’d vaguely heard a mention in the office, however you weren’t tuned in to hear about your psychopathic ex boyfriend. 
You’d been upstairs in your bathroom when you heard the sound of your door opening and closing, about to call out to your friends before you were stopping dead in your tracks. “Y/N?! I know you’re home!” The familiar voice boomed through the house, causing you to quickly and quietly push the bathroom door shut before locking it. You couldn’t jump from the second floor window, you’d break something and make it even easier for him to hurt you. You didn’t even have time to think of your options whenever you heard the sound of heavy footsteps. “Are we playing hide and seek?” His voice was getting closer, your body doing its best to camouflage behind the sink, however, you weren’t small enough to hide behind the tiny sink. 
The doorknob turned, your heart in your throat. This was it. He was going to kill you, show the BAU that they didn’t help you in the slightest. It could be a taunt, showing that he’d always find you. “Oh, are you hiding in there?! Y/N, my angel, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice was dripping with insincerity, fist angrily hitting against the door. “Don’t make me kick it in.” He said in a simple tone, a frown now on his face. 
There were a few moments of silence, something that gave you a false sense of safety. He gave up. You have lived to fight another day. However, you had to cover your mouth with a shaking hand as tears welled up in your eyes when you could hear some shuffling behind the door. You were paralyzed in fear as you watched the door fall soon after, the door falling off the hinges. 
“This is silly. I can’t believe you made me do that!” He huffed, tossing the screwdriver to the side. He’d come prepared with tools hidden in the trunk of the car he’d swiped. “Now, come here..” He gave a faux pout, approaching your cowered frame. You’d made a snap decision to punch him in the face when he was caught off guard, scrambling out of your hiding place before hurrying out of the bathroom. 
You hadn’t gotten far though, all of the screaming for help being useless whenever you felt one hand gripping your waist tight enough to bruise and a hand smacking against your mouth to muffle your screams. “Shut up!” Spencer snapped, using his arm wrapped around your body to lift you. 
Once you were in your room, he didn't waste time to use the rope he’d thrown on your bed to tie your wrists tightly, making you sit on the bed while he was grabbing your phone. “I already texted your friends. They are so sorry that you aren’t feeling well. Don’t worry too much, honey. We will be gone before anyone gets suspicious.” He cooed and cupped your cheek, causing you to flinch.
“I’ve missed you so much.” He sighed, patting your cheek with his hand while pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Sorry that I tied you up so tight. I didn’t trust you as much as I was willing to earlier after you punched me. That’s a killer right hook, by the way. Surprised you didn’t break my nose.” He chuckled. He was acting like this was normal, two people catching up after being apart for a few years.
“What are you planning here?” You’d asked, finally mustering up the courage to speak. “A-are you gonna kill me?” The next question came out much more shaky than the first. “I’m not gonna kill you. I’m here to talk. I know you’re scared because of what you saw but I promise that it was for a good cause.” He breathed. Yes, brutally murdering and disemboweling a man on his living room floor was okay. “You know what that guy did? He was notoriously breaking into women’s houses and raping them. I think we can both agree that he got what was coming to him.”
“He should’ve gone to prison..”
“Just for him to get released again after a few years? It’s a waste of police resources, not to mention everyone’s time.” 
The part of Spencer that used to share the same sentiment as his girlfriend had died a while ago. “Look, just..” He huffed and brought his hands up to roughly tug at his own hair from frustration. “Trust me. You’re okay.”
You were staring at him, the shock wearing off of seeing the man who you assumed would’ve murdered you with no cares in the world. Now you were just confused. You assumed there would be some sort of revenge plot, a fate of suffering. Instead, you watched as he put his hands against your cheeks. “It’s so good to see you.” He spoke softly while running the rough pad of his thumb over your smooth cheek.
“I thought you left the country for a moment there. I searched everywhere. Then I landed here.. Funnily enough, I was giving up.” He hummed while eventually leaning forward to press a few soft pecks against your lips. 
You wanted nothing more than to back away, to run and get help. Instead, your body gave in while your lips were pressing kisses against his lips in return. He’d reeled you back in all over again with little to no effort. Of course.
As the small kisses were escalating, your lips were sloppily slotting along with his as he took the opportunity to try and show you just how much he missed you. “My pretty girl.” His words were sweet like honey as he was pulling away. “Why don’t you let me show you how much I missed you?” The words made you shudder. “P-please do.” You breathed out, unable to help the blush spreading across your cheeks from his gaze. It was like he was a lion in the savannahs and you were a gazelle, peacefully minding your business while he plans to bounce. Plans to eat you alive..
“I’m keeping the ropes where they are, remember that. You have to prove yourself. No matter how much I adore you.” He stated. He couldn’t make any chances. He’d been to prison once and he wasn’t planning on going back anytime soon. You seemed to understand how things were going to go, willingly going along with his plans of keeping you as his.
“Perfect.” He breathed while moving to press one more kiss to your lips. His hands were tugging you to the edge of the bed while he was reaching for your hips, tugging you to the edge of the bed while offering a grin. “Now, just relax.” He cooed, hands now working on the jeans you were wearing for the night before tugging them down your legs with ease. “You had to pick the tightest pants imaginable, didn’t you?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. “I’m not surprised. Although it’s a good thing that I stopped you from going out in these. Didn’t need any obstacles in my way.” He murmured, hands ripping the panties you had on without any care. 
Before you could complain, Spencer had already dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. His nose nuzzled against your inner thigh as he pressed a few kisses, biting down on the thick flesh as you let out a surprised yelp. His tongue ran over the fresh teeth marks in your skin before the muscle trailed up your inner thigh, a series of goosebumps spread over your flesh. You wanted nothing more than to take him by the back of the head and push his face into your weeping cunt, however the rope tying your hands together didn’t give you the opportunity.
Thankfully, he’d gotten the hint as he left his tongue lick a stripe up your slick slit, a low groan falling from his lips as he finally got just a little bit of a taste of what he was missing. With his hands gripping your supple thighs, he was letting his tongue flick over your throbbing clit, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. “You taste so good, pretty girl. God, I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered against your slick pussy, making you unsure if he was talking to you or your sex. 
His tongue had given a few more licks to your clit before his tongue was teasingly licking around your slit, his nose positioned to bump against your sensitive nub with each movement. “Spencer..” you huffed from frustration, which didn’t seem to deter him.
You’d gotten antsy, wiggling in place in an effort to urge him onward. 
When he’d had enough of the teasing though, he was letting his tongue devour your pussy. He was drinking up any slick arousal that you were willing to give him, fully intoxicated on your essence as the sinful sounds of his slurping noises were filling the room alongside your moans and begs for more.
His hand was moving up your torso before gently pushing your body to lay back against the mattress. His hands came back down as he was letting one finger replace his tongue, a low chuckle leaving his lips as soon as your walls were tightening around the long digit. “Look at this greedy pussy. Take my finger so well.” He groaned, slipping in a second finger while working on your cunt. He didn’t have enough time tonight to fully fuck you, knowing you both had to hit the road soon in order for him to get the hell out of dodge.
However, he was gonna make this count. As his fingers were pistoning into your soppy cunt, he was curling them deep inside of you, causing his fingertips to brush against the spongy button deep inside of you that made a squeal fall from your lips.
“How would you make it without me? God knows that any other guy isn’t gonna know how to make you cum the way that I do. I bet you’ve been thinking about me ever since you left.” He spoke lowly, continuing to fingerfuck your pussy at a quick pace, your velvety walls closing in around the two digits. Judging by the way they were spasming and the way your body was shaking from euphoria, he knew he had you right where he wanted you. “Gonna cum.” You warned, head thrown back against the pillow while your eyes were screwed shut. 
His efforts weren’t letting up, instead surprising you by adding a third finger into the mix as he continued his assault of your leaking cunt. It only took a few strokes of his fingers before your head was tilting back, mouth wide open as you let out a loud moan. Your cum was decorating his hand now, the slick arousal trailing down his hand to his wrist before he was pulling his fingers out of your used pussy. 
“Alright. I’m gonna pack you a bag and then we will get you cleaned up. We need to get out of here as soon as possible.” 
Now you were along for the ride, unable to escape. Although you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t love it.
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prying-pandora666 · 2 months
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The Real Reason Azula Smirked When Zuko Was Burned is…
A lot of ink has been spilled over why Azula smirked when Ozai burned and scarred Zuko.
Some argue whether Iroh’s flashback was reliable. Let’s assume for the sake of argument—as uncertain as it is in canon—that it happened exactly as Iroh remembers and describes it.
How could an 11 year old child smirk while her brother is burned and brutalized in front of everyone?
There are many conflicting arguments.
Argument 1 - She’s a monster.
Some say she is a sadist or a psychopath and it’s as simple as that. She just enjoys watching her brother suffer.
But this doesn’t track with what we come to learn about her later, and is outright contradicted by materials that actually give us insight into her POV such as the comics and novelizations, as well as writer interviews.
The novelizations which were written contemporaneously (and thus aren’t a retcon) show us an Azula who cares about Zuko, even though she’s competitive with him and jealous that mom favored him. She thinks Zuko is weak and brings misery upon himself and she is willing to turn on him to protect herself. Yet she still wants to help him get stronger and take his place as Prince. She still wants his love. She takes the risk to lie on his behalf at Ba Sing Se for him. She didn’t suspect Aang had survived until later.
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The comics take this further, showing that in Azula’s ideal world, Zuko was never banished or burned at all. He is happy and loves her and isn’t abused or scarred.
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Even the head writer who designed both Zuko and Azula’s arcs claimed she loved Zuko more than anyone except their father.
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So then what is it?
Argument 2 - It’s A Coping Mechanism
Some point to “Identification with the Aggressor”, a well documented psychological coping mechanism in which victims of trauma—especially children who are especially malleable and vulnerable—will mirror their abuser and conform to their ideals in an attempt to stay in their good graces and be spared. This isn’t always a conscious decision either, it’s often done subconsciously, which only confounds this further.
I’ve written more about this and how it pertains to Azula here.
However, outside the the knowledge that this is common in abused children and Azula’s behaviors meet the criteria, we don’t have any direct confirmation that this is the case.
Argument 3 - She Is Brainwashed
Others point out that every adult in the room is complicit in this act if not outright enjoying it in the cases of Ozai and Zhao.
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Azula is a small child that’s been brainwashed from birth to believe this is right. After all, Ozai is their unquestionable despotic leader as well as her only remaining parental figure. Why would she question? How would she even know this is wrong if she’s been taught this is right by everyone surrounding her?
Does she even understand the full impact of what is happening here or does she think this is Zuko getting his comeuppance for being “weak and lazy”, with no concept that he’s actually being scarred for life and is soon to be banished? After all, not even jolly Uncle Iroh is objecting or moving a finger to stop this. He only looks away.
This is supported by the fact that Iroh laughed about burning Ba Sing Se to the ground even as he was killing them. Zuko and Azula both laugh at this joke and Ursa doesn’t chastise them. She only smiles. Clearly this kind of violence is normalized in the Fire Nation.
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We also know Azula attended the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, which in the Kyoshi novels we are told is quite violent and that it wasn’t uncommon for adults to encourage students to duel on Agni Kais. Students sometimes died. So there is reason to suspect this is a product of her culture.
Argument 4 - She is Faking It
“Azula always lies” they say. She is shown to be an excellent liar, but more importantly that she represses her vulnerabilities and feelings.
This is shown when Toph tries to sense Azula’s lies only for Azula to completely repress any reactions and prove Toph can’t determine when Azula is being truthful.
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The Beach gives us a more sympathetic example, showing us an Azula who empathizes with her brother and tries to cheer him up when he’s sitting by their old family beach house in depression. She calls him to join them at the shore, and then proceeds to walk all her friends and Zuko through their traumas with surprising gentility.
When it’s her turn however? She dismisses her own trauma with a flippant joke. Masking the moment she starts to feel emotional about it.
It’s even shown when Zuko makes Ty Lee cry by calling her a circus freak. Initially Azula laughs, but when she realizes it’s upset Ty Lee, Azula’s face changes to one of remorse and sadness. However, the moment Ty Lee turns to look at Azula, Azula quickly hides this expression and masks it with a look of indignant petulance.
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Azula does indeed seem to fake negative reactions to hide her vulnerabilities.
Argument 5 - It’s a combination of 2-4
Perhaps there is some truth to all of what we have seen in arguments 2-4. Azula is clearly brainwashed and does identify with her abuser to the point of being inappropriately enmeshed with him and suffering total ego fragmentation when he discards her. She does repress her emotions until she finally unravels. She was also quite young when this show happened and it’s possible she didn’t know just how serious it was all going to be.
But consider this…
Still that isn’t enough for detractors, who claim that even given her environment and the circumstances, it’s still too sadistic and cruel for her to grin here. That she should’ve shown some outward sign of disruption.
If you are or ever were one of these detractors, let me ask you this.
Did you feel any sympathy when Azula fell apart, uncomforted by her newly granted power, arguing against her own conscience in the form of her estranged mother, telling her that her methods are wrong? When Azula replied “what choice do I have?” did you feel any remorse for this child who had been exploited for her skill and groomed into living weapon by her power-hungry father, with no regard for her psychosocial development or emotional wellbeing to the point she cannot even relate to kids her own age normally? Did her desperation to use fear and control to keep others close because she knows no other reliable way, because such skills are taught and she’s only ever learned manipulation and coercing and fear, showing us exactly what Ozai uses to control her just as used violence and estrangement against Zuko, move you?
When she laid broken and sobbing and screaming at the end after Zuko and Katara “put her in her place” as Zuko put it, did you feel any pain in your gut?
Or did you cheer?
Were you glad to for her to get her comeuppance?
Did you feel justice was served and Zuko triumphed that day?
That he was right, he could “take her” by exploiting how “off” she was aka her mental illness and spiral into psychosis?
Because if you did, then you know exactly why a person would smirk while watching someone who needs help get brutalized.
If narrative framing can persuade you to believe that an unloved, mentally ill, abused and exploited child soldier being brought to sobbing, screaming, chained up, broken tears… is the RIGHTEOUS result! Imagine what a lifetime of propaganda from birth and programming from your own father with no one to show you another way would do to you.
Why did Azula smirk while Ozai burned Zuko?
You already know the answer.
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colourstreakgryffin · 1 month
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Hii! Can we get a fic with how would it like to be if the reader was basically douma same personality appearence etc. With Alastor? I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW IT WOULD GO.
Oh my fucking god. This Duo— it’s this duo and Discord with Alastor, I think would mesh well! Haha! Anyway! I am definitely trying this out, thank you, loves! Hope you enjoy!
Alastor- Rainbow Irises
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Ah… a cannibalistic murderous cult has rolled into the Pride Ring. Alastor isn’t surprised when he hears over the new Overlord being the Eternal Paradise Cult leader. He’s heard worse
Though… her eyes are a mesmerising rainbow. A gorgeous, colourful, almost hypnotic swirl of multiple colours and the way she has presented herself to the Pride Ring… menacing yet elegant and cool-headed. Dressed like a fancy old-fashioned Japanese woman and wielding golden sharp fans
You’re an entire walking-talking red flag of a person. Speaking smooth and doting to everybody you meet but raising your fangs to their neck. You’re possibly even worse than Valentino. You trick everybody into thinking you’re polite and considerate and playful but you have a VERY ugly monster under those rainbow eyes
You have that charisma and friendliness Alastor uses regularly, coming off as upbeat and you greets all the Overlords politely but the proclaims you make… the way you eat other sinner demons with no problem and even brag about putting heads of decapitated men in pots. You have everybody in the room’s spines shivering in both disgust and intimidation at how you’re like
Alastor respects the way you establish yourself and getting his full respect is hard. You are intimidating, you are menacing, it’s a sign of how strong you actually are. The second strongest Overlord in Hell’s history(right behind Alastor). You regularly loom over Alastor and enjoy sweet-talking him
Alastor can recognise when a psychopath is talking so he never falls for your tricks nor your innocent act. You’re dangerous and twisted, specifically targeting and only eating men, hence you’re only-men member cult. He won’t let you even try take a finger off him
Alastor is basically our Shinobu, except Al doesn’t beat on us
Alastor doesn’t like you just touching him. You’ll reach out and touch him, solely to annoy him. He isn’t scared of you but he can tell why the other Overlords are so tense around you… you’re the most perfect cult leader, a inviting aura and a sensual voice that screams illusionary safety
Alastor has to hold his breath around you. When you’re angry, you turn ice cold and you don’t mind making the air too frozen for anybody to breathe in. So, he is quite careful with you. Juggling inbetween cold treatment and warm treatment, he feels like he is handling a spoiled brat when he talks to you
Alastor ignores the ‘gifts’ you make or get him. The lotus ice statues are wonderful but he knows what you’re trying to do… he may compliment your work but he won’t let you talk him into anything
But that doesn’t mean, Alastor doesn’t find your work nor your power impressive. He is very impressed and he rewards you for all you’ve done with your little cult and rising up to the rank to being the second strongest Overlord ever known in Hell. It’s a grand feat that he will clap to
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Aren’t you even a little bit worried about me, Lord Alastor~?”
“Darling. Kindly do not touch—“
“You don’t know how dreadfully worried I was. Since you all are cherished comrades of mine. I’d be heartbroken if I lost any of my comrades~”
Alastor finds your Japanese voice and language irresistible in a way, since it reflects your English and ‘nature’ very well but once again… he won’t fall for how often you say you like him. He knows people like you, he’s one of them. He’ll just commend what you’ve done as a Pride Ring Overlord
Alastor HATES the ‘Lord Alastor’ nickname you give him and always address him under… yeah. You give it to every other Overlord, he isn’t the only one who is called ‘Lord’ but it feels so condescending and in reality, it is…
“Silence, my dear. The adults are speaking… now, calm down that temper of yours. We don’t need anymore aircon in this room”
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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eddie x reader
wayne & her r gonna meet but they already know each other so they prank eddie that he doesn’t like her
You've got your game face on, Eddie just misunderstands why. He thinks you've squared your shoulders and furrowed your brow to remind yourself that you're tough, that you're awesome, and that it doesn't matter what his uncle thinks of you (even though he knows he'll love you). Really, it's because you're about to rage against the man currently opening the door.
"Wayne," Eddie grins, holding up your joined hands, "This is-"
"You," Wayne seethes, glare sharp enough to fool his nephew, "What the hell are you doing bringin' 'round a criminal, son?"
"A- A what?"
"Oh, not you," You scoff, dropping Eddie's hand to cross your arms over your chest, "Eddie, you didn't tell me your uncle was a psychopath."
"Psycho- What? You're the one that keyed my car!"
"You hit me with it," You seethe, spitting mad, "And then you just drove away! You laughed, you're fucking insane!"
"You- you what? Wayne!" Eddie looks aghast at his uncle, "The first time I get a girlfriend you run her over?"
"She was in my way," The old man gripes, "Tell her to stop jaywalking."
"Jaywalking? And- and baby," He turns to you, eyes wide and afraid, "You slashed his tires? I- I mean, that's fucked up that he did that but- but did you really do that?"
"She called me a coot, too," Wayne insists, but after punctuating his sentence, his frown falters, and his jaw nearly snaps from how hard he's clenching it, trying to keep his laughter in."
"You are a coot," You huff, but his concealed laughter only makes your own bubble up, "And- and another thing, old man..."
"Yeah? Gimme a reason," Wayne raises a fist, all bark and no bite, "Just- just gimme a reason to, and I'll- I'm sorry, I can't."
His chest puffs with laughter, and the way Eddie's standing fear-stricken makes you dissolve as well. He's perhaps more afraid of the two of you when you break down laughing together, leaning on the doorframe or folded over at the waist. He almost wishes you'd start shouting again.
"Okay, guys," He calls warily, "What's going on?"
"She works at the gas station I stop by for cigarettes." Wayne waves a hand at Eddie, "I knew you two were together when I saw that ring on her hand." He points to a particularly gaudy one of Eddie's that he'd given you as a token of his admiration."
"Sorry, Eddie," Your sentence begins with a giggle and ends with a sigh as you butt your head against his chest, "We just wanted to freak you out."
"You did," He shakes his head, eyes closed, "i thought you were gonna knock her lights out, Wayne. And- wait! You said you quit smoking!"
This time it's Eddie with fire in his eyes, and you give Wayne a teasingly panicked look from over Eddie's shoulder.
"Yeah, I told you that 'cause I wanted you to think it," Wayne drawls, "I buy a pack after work every week."
"You're not allowed to sell him any more," Eddie whirls on you, and you drop the face, "Understand?"
"Yes, sir." You fake-salute, "Now can we get inside? I want to hang out with your uncle."
"I've been meanin' t'ask you," Wayne welcomes you into the trailer with an arm out that wraps around your shoulders as you cross the threshold, leaving Eddie alone on the front steps, "Did you ever get that car radio of yours workin' again? 'Cause a buddy of mine just totaled his car, the stereo's workin' fine. I figured I could swap it out for you."
As you get into a discussion of car radios and junkyard ethics, Eddie stands with furrowed brows in the doorway. He's watching his girlfriend and his uncle chat like college friends, and he can barely shake off the bewilderment enough to step inside his own home.
"You two are crazy," He cuts you off, frowning at the both of you, "I- God, I need a beer."
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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months
Text
୨୧ Modern Love ୨୧
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୨୧ Pairing: criminal!boyfriend!mingyu x chubby!waitress!fem!reader
୨୧ Genre: crime au/a mix of fluff & angst/smut
୨୧ Summary: Your friends always told you that Kim Mingyu was trouble but when he shows up unexpectedly at your job, covered in bruises with a bag of stolen money, you see how much trouble he really can be.
୨୧ Word Count: 3.5kish
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୨୧ Warnings: mention of blood/injuries, a gun that's not used but is in there, strong language, unprotected sex, a lil bit of rough sex, fingering, creampie, & that's all I'm pretty sure
୨୧ A/N: I haven't written in a bit and I really wanted to start writing something crime related so here we are 🖤
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There’s a lot you’ve come to tolerate waitressing at the diner. Customers with shitty attitudes who leave even shittier tips. Line cooks who get every other order wrong only to blame you because you must have mixed their tickets up somehow. The thin layer of grease that lingers on your clothes, leaving the scent of day old fries to haunt you even after you’ve washed your uniform a thousand times. All of that you can tolerate but this, your boss screaming at you like some psychopath, never fails to make your blood boil.
It’s always something with him. This time it’s that you didn’t refill the ketchup last night before close even though you weren’t the one who closed. The waitress who closed, a soft spoken girl who only started a week ago, called in this morning to quit just like every other waitress before her. The only girls insane enough to stick around are you and Moon, the waitress who trained you and the only person you’ve ever seen go toe to toe with your boss. 
His screaming’s getting louder but you can’t even hear it. You zoned out ages ago. It’s like watching a TV on mute. If not for the growing redness of his face or the flinches of the passing food runners, you wouldn’t know a thing. Everyday you think about quitting. You lay in bed fantasizing about a life where you don’t have to put up with this to survive but in the end you always roll out of bed and show up.
What else are you supposed to do? You weren’t born into money and, luck never quite being on your side in life, it's not likely to just fall into your lap. So this is it. This. Is. It. Your stomach sinks as your boss steps closer, the veins in his hairy neck straining enough to pop a blood vessel. This can’t be it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Moon shouts, pushing through the double doors behind you. The noise of the kitchen cuts back in at a dizzying speed. Dishes clanking, grease sizzling, water running, cooks calling out orders.
“You don’t talk to me that way!” your boss shouts back, dialing down his rage as he aims it at Moon. She pulls her dark hair back into a tight ponytail, cornering him against a rack of dirty dishes. “You don’t talk to her that way! The next time I hear you yelling at her I’ll report you to the health department for all of the little critters we have running around here or would you like me to tell the customers first?” He wants to say something to her but he can’t.
He knows she’s serious enough that she’d pop on a glove and go show off the bug traps to every customer packed into the questionably clean booths of the dining room. “Get back to work!” he snaps, “Both of you!” With that he storms off to his office mumbling every misogynistic thought in his pea brain. Moon turns to you, giving you a hug. You let out a sigh of relief, enjoying the comfort of her arms even though she smells like sandwiches. You do too. 
“I fucking hate him.” “Fucking hate him for sure” she agrees, “But I know something that’ll cheer you up.” “What could possibly make me feel better?” Moon grabs you by the shoulders and directs you to the small round window on the door, “Your boyfriend’s here. Looks a little beat up though. Wonder what he got into this time.” Before she can finish her sentence and launch into another lecture about your choice in men, you’re racing to the booth in the corner where Mingyu sits patiently waiting for you.
He spots you in an instant, jumping up to give you a hug and soothe the panic that paints your face. A little beat up is an understatement. He’s covered in cuts and bruises. A busted lip here. A bruised eye there. A bandaged cut on the side of his neck. His knuckles skinned and raw. Your hands don’t know where to go or what to inspect. They’re just frantically skimming his frame, dreading the next surprise. “What happened?”
Mingyu tries to downplay it, apprecating that you’re worried for him but still not wanting you to worry too much. “Baby, I’m okay. Calm down.” He’s lying and you both know it. Everytime something like this happens he tries to shrug it off, pretending that he doesn’t get hurt worse and worse each time he gets back from one of his "jobs". “How can I calm down? Look at you.” “Look at me? What does that mean? Don’t you think I’m pretty?” he teases, placing his hands on your cheeks. Even with his fingers all beat up and achy, he has the most gentle touch you’ve ever felt.
He smiles and all you can do is smile back. Of course you think he’s pretty, the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen, and you’re a sucker for him in the worst way. So much that you forget for a few fleeting seconds that there’s the lightest spot of blood seeping through the crisp white bandage on his neck. “Cute but I still need you to tell me what’s going on” you persist, glancing back to catch Moon watching over you as she works her tables.
Mingyu turns you back to look at him, the wildness in his deep brown eyes thrilling and frightening you all at once. 
“You trust me don’t you?” 
“Ming—” 
“Do you trust me?” 
“I mean, duh, of course I trust you but—” 
“Then quit” he says as if it’s nothing. As if this job isn’t the only thing paying for the hole in the wall apartment you rent up the street. “I can’t just quit. I need this job.” Mingyu presses his forehead to yours, bringing his arms around your waist to hold you closer. “Not anymore. I can take care of you now. I just really need you to trust me and come with me. We don’t have a lot of time.” 
It’s impossible to make sense of anything he’s saying when he’s being this vague. You have a million questions and no time to ask them. “Hey! Play with your boyfriend on your own time!” your boss shouts from across the counter, “Get back to these tables before I fire your ass!” Mingyu’s jaw clenches, his temper ready to erupt on your boss for daring to speak to you that way. “I got this” you whisper, rubbing his shoulders to cool him down. He’s already had enough action for one day. The last thing he needs is another scuffle.
Your boss goes on rambling but this time you don’t drown him out. You hear every word. Every disgusting, vile thing he can spew in your direction. The thought of dealing with this every single day is torture. Mingyu's way out, whatever it is, has to be better than this. Your friends might not agree, Moon would surely have you thrown in an asylum, but you have to trust Mingyu or risk this being the rest of your life.
Grabbing a pitcher of ice water from one of the tables, you calmly approach the counter and throw it in your boss’ face. “Oh my god” Moon gasps, covering her mouth to hide her amusement. “Do it yourself. I quit. Mingyu, let’s go.” You march out of the diner, ripping your apron and name tag off as your sneakers hit the dirt of the parking lot. Your palms are sweaty, your heart’s racing, and you have no idea what’s gotten into you but it feels good. “That was sick” Mingyu applauds, kissing your fluffy cheeks, “I didn’t know my girlfriend was such a badass.” “Shut up” you giggle as he guides you to his car, a vintage deathtrap that his father gifted to him.
Mingyu seats you on the passenger's side, picking up a heavy black duffle bag from the floor and plopping it onto your lap. You stare down at it, too afraid to even touch it. With Mingyu’s line of work anything could be in this bag. Not a body, of course, it’s much too small for that. But guns? Drugs? “Just open it” he says, starting the car. You’ve been so deep in your own thoughts, running through the possibilities of what’s in the bag, of what happened to his face, that you hadn’t even noticed him get into the car.
Noticing your hesitance, he reaches over and unzips the bag. “It won’t bite, honey” he promises, turning out of the parking lot and leaving you to take in the bundles of crinkled money packed into the bag. You carefully pick one out, fanning through it like a deck of cards. There’s more money here than you’ve ever seen. More than most people will ever see. 
“Whose money is this?” 
Mingyu shrugs, flicking on the radio, “Mmm, it’s ours.”
“You asked me to trust you now I need you to trust me. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Mingyu made a promise to himself when you first started dating that he’d keep the other side of him hidden. He loves the way that you see him. You see him as his most ideal self. As the man he wishes he could be all of the time and not who he has to become when you aren’t together. But you were bound to find out one day and if today has to be that day then so be it. “You know how I do drop offs for the mob?” You nod, your fingers still petting the edges of the money like one would a new puppy or a luxurious fur coat.
“I do pickups too. Retrivals I guess. If people owe money and they don’t pay up it’s my job to go get it even if it means I have to hurt them...” He trails off, fearful of your reaction, but you only listen attentively, free of judgment. “Earlier I had one of those pickups” he continues, “Things got kind of crazy. A lot of people got hurt.” He flexes his hand, wincing at the pain. “Including me but, you know, at least I’m alive. The other guy...anyway. I was supposed to take the money back but I didn’t. I kept it for us.”
You insantly regret ever pressing him for this information. Maybe ignorance truly is bliss and you've just given it up. “So you killed someone?” “I kinda had to.” “Right. You kinda had to kill someone and stole a bunch of mob money now we’re—we’re on the run aren’t we?” Mingyu nods, chewing on the inside of his lip, “We are.” “Oh, fun. I’m dead. We’re dead. They’re gonna chop our heads off.” “No one’s chopping your head off! They don’t even do that anymore. It’s more of a burning the whole body thing. Buried alive usually.”
“Not helping!”
“I’m sorry!”
Mingyu tosses the bag into the backseat, freeing your lap up for his hand to massage your thigh. Your legs are shaky, every part of you is, and no amount of massaging can stop it. “This is a lot. It’s so fucking much. I can’t even…” Leaning your head back against the headrest, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. “I never meant to put you in danger” he says softly, “We spend so many nights talking about the life we want. A better life. You deserve it and I just want to give you that so when I saw the opportunity I took it. If it means anything, I’d die before I let anyone hurt you. I’ll protect you with my life.”
You open your eyes to catch him staring at you, his attention only half on the road where it should be. He means every word he says, no matter how fucked up his methods are. A part of you can’t stand him for what he’s done and you can't stand yourself for how small that part of you is. In a matter of minutes he managed to destroy the life you knew. A life you’ve been longing to destroy yourself for far too long but never had the courage to. You can’t hate him for that. In fact, in some strange, twisted way you've never loved him more.
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You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping. The two of you had plans to go out for dinner after you hopped out of the shower but hours of driving in no particular direction had exhausted you. The moment you sat down on the bed of the floral wallpapered motel room you were out like a light. Mingyu can’t bring himself to wake you up. You deserve the rest, he figures, after all he sprung onto you.
He has no real idea where you are. Your cellphones were tossed off a bridge two towns ago and every road sign in whatever nowhere town you stopped in is too faded too read. There’s no way anyone will find you here when you can’t even find yourselves. Even still, Mingyu finds himself pacing the floor in the darkness of the motel room, a handgun held tightly in his right hand. Paranoia weighing heavy on him, he wishes that he could fall asleep but every time he relaxes in the slightest another set of headlights beam through the curtains and he’s on his feet again.
What if someone followed you? What if they spotted his car? He truly would protect you with his life. But what if he failed? “Idiot” he huffs, hitting himself on the side of the head. “Hey, I’d appreciate you not hitting my boyfriend. Thank you very much” you yawn, stretching out, your eyes only cracked enough to make out his fuzzy silhouette. You snuggle up to his side of the bed, the blanket quite cozy against your bare skin for something that's for sure been here since the 90’s. You try not to think about it, your focus quickly shifting to the gun in Mingyu’s hand.
“When’d you get a...” you start but abandon your question. When’d he get a gun? That’s silly to ask. Of course he has a gun, probably a few. Why wouldn’t he? “Put that thing away and come to bed.” “You worry too much. I’m good. You rest.” Outstretching your arms, you pout and kick your feet knowing that he's a softie for your tantrums. “Five minutes. That’s it. Please” you whine and he’s already dragging himself over to the bed, reluctantly tucking his gun into the bedside table.
By now the haze of sleep has fallen away, offering you a clear view of the gorgeous man hovering above you. “Stop looking at me like that” he blushes, his fingertips dancing along your jaw. It sends sparks through your system, stealing your breath away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mingyu leans down to kiss you, his hand slipping beneath the blanket to ride the curves of your body. “You don’t?” he asks, nibbling at your bottom lip. He presses a thumb into the tender flesh of your thigh, feeling your body tremble the way you did in the car.
Only now it’s not because you’re scared. Fear is the furthest thing from your mind. It’s because you’re craving some relief, craving him, badly enough that the faintest brush of his thumb over your clit has you snatching him on top of you. Your tongue’s down his throat, legs thrown around his waist, hips raised to feel the bulge fighting to free itself from the confines of his jeans. Nothing gets Mingyu hotter than when you’re like this, clawing his clothes off as his fingers delight in the velvet warmth between the lips of your pussy. “Ming—” you gasp at how effortlessly his fingers glide into you. Your walls flutter in excitement as if to welcome him home and he couldn’t be happier to be back.
“You’re dripping, baby” he coos, pulling out just enough to glimpse your juices coating his fingers. You reach between you, finally feeling the heat of his cock in your palm, and stroke his length, collecting pearls of his arousal each time you run over the tip. “So are you” you tease, grinning at the way his hips stutter. With one arm holding himself up and the other busy between your legs, his muscles flex in a certain way that makes your mouth water. In your eyes his body’s a work of art and the feeling couldn’t be more mutual.
Your body’s so soft, so sensual, that he’s dying to be inside of you just to see the way your body jiggles each time he thrusts into you. Your muscles tighten, the ecstasy coursing through your veins making you feel lightheaded. “Make love to me” you say in the sweetest voice, not begging nor demanding, simply confessing how much you need him. Mingyu twitches in your hand, his heart skipping more than a few beats. Without a word, his hands are gripping your plush hips as he guides himself to your entrance.
He takes his time, rubbing the tip in the wetness escaping your core, bumping it against your clit to make you quiver. You rub his biceps, nails digging into his arms, giving him such a rush that he can’t tease you any longer. He delves into your core, feeding his length into you gradually until every inch of him fills you. “So beautiful” he whispers, kissing between your breasts as he strokes in and out of you. His tongue traces the contours of your breast, flicking at your nipple before his lips wrap around it. Nibbling, suckling, all while watching the faces you make when he hits that sensitive spot.
He’s throbbing inside of you, so tight against your walls that you swear you can feel the blood rushing through those pretty veins that run up his cock. It’s sweet of him starting out slow but you want more. You press down onto him, using the minimal space between your bodies to ride him, picking up the pace. Mingyu gets the hint, rising to his knees as he presses yours to your chest. “You said make love to you” he says, his hands tucked behind your knees, “If you wanted me to fuck you, you should’ve just said so.”
He kisses you ravenously, like he wants to consume you entirely, wasting no time pulling back to bounce you on his cock, his hips moving faster with each thrust. Mingyu palms the softest part of your stomach, caressing it as his other hand reaches up to cup your cheek. His thumb runs across your bottom lip, feeling your breath as you cry out his name. “Mingyu—ah—yes—fuck. Harder!” you scream and this time you are begging.
Never being a man to deny you what you want, he obeys. Harder, faster, impossibly deeper, until you feel him in every part of you. Holding onto his wrists, you surrender, letting yourself get lost in him. So lost that you’re caught off guard by the sudden explosion of the pressure that's been building inside of you. Your lids barely fall shut before they’re shooting back open, your body quivering as your orgasm barrels down on you. Mingyu’s hypnotized by the sight of you, addicted to the way you gush and clench around him.
“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. So pretty when you cum for me, aren’t you? So so pretty. Mmm—.” He wants to hold back, to at least try, but it’s no use. How can he hold back anything with you? It only takes one more pulse of your walls for him to come undone, barely able to maintain his thrusts as he spills into you. You’d feel this forever if you could. The warmth and the fullness. You’re so greedy for it, taking every drop until he’s collapsed beside you trying to come back down to earth.
Using the last bit of energy in your body, you lay your head on his chest, tossing the blanket over the two of you. “Tomorrow you’ll teach me how to shoot?” Mingyu wraps an arm around you, gently petting your hair. “You? With a gun? No way.” You nod, intimidated but confident in your decision, “We’re in this together now aren’t we? It’s not just about you protecting me. I wanna protect you too. So teach me.”
His instinct is to tell you no, that he can protect both of you on his own, but he knows it’s not fair. He’s the one who drug you into this, the least he can do is show you how to defend yourself.
“I’ll teach you. Tomorrow,” he relents, “But tonight it’s back to sleep, okay?”
"Only if you promise to stay here with me.”
“Always.”
Silence falls across the room and, as you drift back off to sleep, you know there’s so much more to that “always”. “Always” doesn’t just mean tonight or tomorrow. It’s more than next week or next year. It stretches far beyond whatever hell might lie before you. It means forever. It means that Mingyu would go to the ends of the earth for you. And there’s no way you won’t be by his side when he does. 
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inmyminditsreal · 2 months
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I Love It When You Ramble
Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
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Word count: 1.8k
Summary: You talk a lot, and freak out a lot, And Spencer's always there for you when you do freak out, or talk his ear off, In this you find out how much he actually loves it, or rather- you.
WARNINGS!!!! sweetest shit ever
Thanks for 200 followers!!!! I was eating such a fire chicken sandwich while writing this yall.
It begins..
It would be an understatement to say you could talk a lot. Sometimes you just get these ideas and they run right off your tongue before you can think. you wish you could turn it off, but you can't. It's not like anybody really encouraged it anyway. Multiple instances of you being shut down and shrugged off. This doesn’t really stop you from talking, you're really not as bright and shiny as you used to be, but you'd like to think you're still shining. Plus, you occasionally freak out over stupid shit that isn’t stupid to you. Typical. Now, you work at the BAU. Days, to months, now a year. You can still remember the night before your first day, running your mouth talking to yourself about who you should be. Loud? Quiet? you? It’s shitty to be you sometimes. you decided you'd just be. This wasn’t an easy decision, but it’s worked out pretty good so far. 
The walk to work
You live about a ten minute walk from the office, you love this walk, and cherish it really. It's the time to get your thoughts together, you always try to convince yourself to wake up earlier to have “you time”. You bet it’s overrated. Trying to find any peace while working as a profiler isn’t so simple. Any “you time” is spent trying to get into the minds of sadistic psychopaths. The year you've worked at the office has absolutely fucked you up. Not that you're not fucked up already. you are. You found a new family at the bau, one that by not much comparison, is way better than yours. Though, you still talk too much, still get those same “Please shut up” looks. There are only two people at the office who swear they could listen to you for hours, Spencer, and Penelope. Even so, you think sometimes Penelope gets tired of you. 
Walking into the office you're greeted with the sweet smell of coffee, old paper, and a smell you can only find in an office that you can't quite describe. It’s welcoming, you can’t deny that. you spot Spencer studying his computer and walk up to him.
 “Hey spence.”
He lifts his head up and gives you his sickeningly sweet smile, “Hey come grab your chair and roll over here, I wanna show you something.” 
There's a simple sparkle in his eyes that excites the shit out of you. That look makes your stomach flutter. 
“Ooooooo! I’m excited. Is it that coffee mug I was showing you? Did you look at their website? I heard that it almost got shut down, which is crazy knowing how much detail and effort goes into their stuff. Still shocked that all of it could be handmade.” you ramble as you roll your chair next to him in a swift motion. 
“I’m sorry to say it is not, it’s even better.”
He’s right. He is so right. It’s a photoshopped picture of Hotch with an anime body pillow. On a t-shirt. You start laughing so hard, you can't stop. And as one of those people who explode onto the floor in a silent wheezy laughter, you do just that. It’s an ongoing battle between you two to find the funniest thing Hotch could do, there has been him riding a unicorn, salsa dancing, in a maid costume, etc. This got you so good. 
“Jesus, jesus. You win.” you say breathlessly as you stand back up. This obviously catches the attention of Derek and Emily and they walk over. They know about your stupid battle, and despite warning you that he’s going to find out, they of course participate. 
“Oh my god? Oh my god.” Emily says as she looks reluctantly at the screen. 
Derek just starts laughing. you're still giggling. Your phone buzzes suddenly, it’s a text from your mom.
“Oh god oh god oh no.” you mumble as you look at your phone. Your mom isn’t anyone you want to be hearing from. The simple text reads,
“How’s the bau?” You haven’t told anyone in your family you're a profiler, or where you work, or anything about your life.
Looks are exchanged between Emily and Derek. 
“Are you alright?” Asks Emily.
You start to freak out. 
“Yeah, Yeah yeah fuck okay yeah. I’m fine, it's alright. I just have to go really quick.” You start as you stand up and almost run out into the hall, pressing the elevator up. Staring at the buttons feeling like dogshit. Your brain is running its mouth, something you have gotten better at keeping in, is the outside talking. It’s still a part of you, but you hope it won't always be. It’s the only way people will listen, if you talk so much they can't look away, can’t ignore you. But at the same time you feel like they never do hear you. Tears welling in your eyes despite this being insanely stupid. The elevator doors open and you step in with a choked breath, someone slips in behind you. 
“Are you okay?” Spencer asks slowly while hitting the elevator button.
“No.” 
He had seen you get nervous but never really freak out. your fists clenched, Skin pale, teeth chattering. You had told him. Only him. A bit about your mom and family.
“What’s happened sweetheart? ” He says with his arm gently landing on your shoulder.
You feel insanely stupid. You walk out of the elevator into the parking lot.
“My mom texted.”
“Oh god, are you okay?”
“Not really, I'm sorry.” My voice starts to break, you bite your lip. “She found out where I work. What am I going to do? Is she going to tell people, make up rumors? Try to get me to come back? I keep my life secret for a REASON. I don’t know how she found out. Do you think someone here told her? I-”
His arms wrap around you and grip you intensely. He takes your arms and places them  around his waist. His hand lands on your head, stroking soft patterns into your hair. Gentle. Your hot cheek pressing  firmly against the cool vest that’s wrapped around his chest. You exhale into his arms. He cups your cheek and caresses it slowly.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. She can’t hurt you.”
Words that make you melt. You nuzzle into his neck. Just to stay for another minute. Breathing in the scent of fresh laundry, books, and coffee. The only person you'd ever feel so comfortable to hold, and to let hold you, is him. You let go, you know if you don't now you won't ever want to. He looks down at you, for a little too long, then takes your still shaking hand and begins to walk into the elevator. You follow him.  
That night, you cried a lot. Feeling so vulnerable that she knows where you are, god and probably who you're with. It’s always power with her. Can’t leave you alone but doesn’t love you enough to actually talk to you, to want you.  
Couple days later
Now, You're on a case, in Canada. Triple homicide of teen girls. Typical, yet always disgusting. you're currently in the car, being driven to the nearest motel. You're sitting in the middle of the back, next to Spencer and Emily. You pull out the seatbelt to make it budge and lay your head on it. Uncomfortable, sure, but when you’re exhausted nothing else but rest matters. You start to drift asleep, smelling the leather of the seatbelt, and feeling it rub and glide against your skin.  Hearing faint voices and the feeling of being carried out of the car feeling so warm. The subtle smell of coffee floating in the air.
You wake up. Soft hotel bed sheets cuddled into your arms, the familiar smell of well- Spencer, fills your nose. He’s next to you, looking so peaceful with the sunlight hitting him at the most cruel angle, shining on the curve of his nose, the curls of his brown husky hair. He looks so beautiful. All you want to do is lay in his arms and sink into his skin. It's truly tiring loving someone knowing what’s swimming beneath your eyes, in your mind. You know you'd love him and all of his horrors, you hope someone will love you and yours. His eyes flicker open, and land on yours.
“Mornin.” He mutters sleepily. It makes your heart flutter. 
“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” You ask while sitting up to stretch. He does the same. 
He looks at you and gives you a lazy smile, “Pretty good, I’m assuming you did too?”
“Yeah, yeah. But who moved me out of the car? That's the last thing I remember.”
“I did. I carried you from there onto the lobby couch, then to our room while we were getting checked in, since I was carrying you, they decided everybody should share, and we all agreed.”  
You both stare at each other for a little while until you mumble, “Thank you, Spencer.”
“For what?” He says as you both get up to get dressed and start the day.
 He just stares at you, with a look in his eyes, a feeling that you can’t make out. 
“For everything. For carrying me in, and always listening to the things i say, for being so sweet, and cute, and hugging me, calming me down,  for not ignoring me or wishing i would shut up, or atleast making it seem like you don’t want me to shut up, for spending time with me and making jokes with me, and making me fall in love with you-. Shit. Im sorry. Fuck. Just forget it.” You rub your hands over your face and rub your eyes, “sorry.”
“Okay I’m really sorry.” You mumble.
“I love you.”
“What?”
“I love you when you ramble, when you’re a stuttering mess, when you’re crying, when you’re scared, I love you when you get excited about things like coffee mugs, I love you so much when you’re laughing, when you smile and your whole face lights up. I love you when you get these ideas and they’re so smart I start to feel stupid. I love you when your teeth are chattering and you’re freaking out. I love you how you are- and I will love you forever.” He says so passionately that your knees feel weak. His hands cup your cheeks, silky smooth fingers and rough harsh fingertips. You kiss him, You kiss him like nothing else matters. Morning breath? Maybe, but the taste of loving Spencer Reid is stronger. He returns the favour and pushes you into him, his hands exploring your hips and waist, pulling you up into his arms. You nuzzle into his neck yet again and leave soft peppered pecks along his jawline and down his neck. He dances his fingertips up and down your palm and locks your fingers together.
“I love you, Spence.”
“God I love you too, Beautiful.”
Anyway bonus because im bored
Spencer's POV of carrying you out of the car!!
I see her laying against the seatbelt, a soft trail of drool tipping off the edge of the leather. I swear she’s the prettiest thing. We stop at the hotel, Hotch says, 
“Should we wake her up?”
“No. I’ll take her in.” I add while gently unbuckling the seatbelt. Stopping to stare at her for only a second, or 20. A pang hits my heart as I just remember how much she worries, hoping she’s at least at peace in her sleep. I wrap my arms under her, slowly lifting her from the seat. She leans into my chest and I swear it’s the cutest thing I've ever seen. I love her so much. We get inside and I lay her down on the lobby couch, sitting by her side, her head now in my lap. I brush the hair from her face as softly as I can. We get checked in and I pick her up again and carry her into the room, silent footsteps down the hall.
I place her on the bed, take off her shoes, and put the covers over her. Suddenly she's awake, and I tell her to go back to sleep, but she insists on changing into her pjs. Apparently sleeping without them is torture. She’s perfect. Now she’s knocked right out, clinging to the bedsheets, pulling them all on top of her. Doesn’t matter. Rather freeze then take them away from her anyway. I go over today's events, and the last couple days, months, and the day she first got here, looking so beautiful, being so lovely and kind.
When I first met her she talked my head off, but I didn't care. I wanted to hear what she had to say, and it wasn't at all stupid. There's a part of me that used to talk a lot. That part is slowly coming back with her. I want her in my arms, I drift asleep thinking of a life with her.
luv yall
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stressfulsloth · 11 months
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I really do think it's interesting that the way DE discusses ableism gets ignored by a lot of the fanbase. Because Harry is undeniably disabled and that's a core conflict of the game. He's living in an impossible situation that so many disabled people get caught in; he's physically disabled, even more so by the end of the game after being shot, but even at the beginning of the game he struggles with nerve damage, post-polio syndrome, partial paralysis in his jaw, withdrawals, and that's not even starting on the mental illness. He is sick and cannot ever properly heal under these circumstances because he cannot stop moving forward or he will start to sink. He's living in poverty. He has no safety net. No way out of the RCM. That night in Martinaise before the beginning of the game, he tries to quit- throw everything away. He tries to end his own life and drive his car into the sea because he cannot fathom a future where he's able to get out of this alive when he's so intrinsically bound to this abusive institution that he can't escape from.
And then comes Jean, deliberately forbidding anyone from jogging Harry's memory out of spite and anger, refusing to allow anyone else to help, calling him a fucking idiot and a psychopath, asking if he can go to the toilet on his own, telling him that he doesn't deserve his disability pension because it should go to cops who gave a shit instead (nevermind that Harry has been working at burnout pace for years, he's an addict so his contributions are essentially worthless, right?). He has a conversation with Judit, right in front of Harry, on whether or not he has learning disabilities.
This guy is a very interesting character! And I'm not denying that he's likely dealt with consequences at work from Harry's illness. But he also fulfils the narrative role of being a mouthpiece for the suspicion and even outright aggression that addicts face even while trying to recover. He fulfils the role of a representative of the RCM, with the ability to approve or deny Harry’s return and in turn essentially sentence him to a slow death in the seaside village. He is not there to help; he is there to judge and observe, and then blame Harry when things go bad even though his inaction is at least in part responsible for the deaths during the tribunal. And this is all very deliberate! The RCM, and by extension the Coalition, as an organisation is failing both its officers and its citizens- Jean, by extension, is one of the officers being failed! They are underfunded, overstretched, overworked, and shouldn't even exist in the first place. The expectation on partnered officers to provide emotional support to each other is ridiculous. But instead of directing his anger upwards towards the Coalition airships or superiors at the RCM, he directs it outwards, towards 'the liberals' or towards Harry, who as a disabled addict is a pretty convenient punching bag.
His vitriol towards Harry is not supposed to be sympathetic! At least the way I read it, you're not meant to look at him and think 'oh wow Harry's struggle has been so hard for him.' You're meant to question his language, to think more deeply about how society treats addicts, how punitive measures are never going to help someone get sober, about the importance of safety nets.
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forcearama · 21 days
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Allow me a ramble about something important, and YES it is about US politics and YES it is also kind of about Ukraine but not in the way a lot of my Ukraine posts are and YES it is another example of me being a huge nerd. It's also about democracy in general, of which I am a fan.
I was pleased to see this post from 2016 came across my dash again (with updated and accurate commentary in the reblogs which is great). Friendly reminder as we head into the rest of This American Election Year -- this, below, is a post that was churning on Tumblr in 2016 and I know for CERTAIN I saw it on my dash from multiple people at one time without the clarifications).
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^^ This post got tons of traction with many sarcastic "welp"s and on and on.
Someone back at the time, to their credit, tried to interject:
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Importantly, it was uncovered after the election that:
THE ORIGINAL POSTER -- and I can confirm this because I even went back and dug up the email about it -- WAS ONE OF NUMEROUS BLOGS, ON A LIST, DISCLOSED BY TUMBLR AS HAVING BEEN TERMINATED BECAUSE THEY WERE QUITE LITERALLY COMING FROM THE RUSSIAN "INTERNET RESEARCH AGENCY":
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Look. I am not the Democratic Party's #1 Fan or anything. And yes, even though this particular time it was coming from a bot affiliated with a government that generally hates the USA, obviously the idea that the USA does need to have conversations about critical topics like prison reform is not incorrect. (That said, should fucking RUSSIA of all fucking countries be attempting to play this card? Do I even need to point out how fucking horrible THEIR prison system is?? MOST of their bad press right now in the West is understandably about the humanitarian nightmare they're perpetrating on Ukraine, but Human Rights Watch also has a lot to say about how they're doing within Russia itself. Its most recent article from LAST WEEK is titled "Russian Human Rights Defender Pays with His Freedom for Speaking the Truth" about a sham trial that just finished.)
If you go through the list of blogs the IRA spread around on Tumblr specifically in 2016, the clear majority were very VERY clearly aiming mostly at a young, idealistic, left-to-far-left-leaning, socially-conscious, primarily American audience. Which isn't a slam on tumblr users! If you cut out the "youthful" part I'd say that describes me pretty well too, hahaha! Being idealistic and wanting social justice and equality and free college for those who need it etc etc IS ALL GOOD STUFF! But they used peoples' kind hearts and justified anger at the things that are broken here, and targeted them on purpose with half-truths, lies, and all of the usual Russian government trash. Not because they actually give one single flying fuck about any of those issues you are passionate about (see also: Russia's absolutely horrible record w/regard to the LGBTQ community), but to serve the needs and wants of, primarily, an aging psychopath who is fucking terrified to lose anything he has. (As this blog gets a lot of Star Wars nerds, I feel compelled to point out that the Biggest Villain in the entire Star Wars franchise himself once warned us all that when someone is motivated to obtain nothing but unlimited power, eventually the only thing you become afraid of is losing that power.)
There is an excellent documentary -- HBO's Agents of Chaos directed by Alex Gibney, who has also directed worth-watching docuseries about Theranos' Elizabeth Holmes, and Scientology, for example -- from a few years ago about all of this. It goes into tons of detail about the connection of the color revolutions, the Arab Spring and ESPECIALLY the Revolution of Dignity in Ukraine, followed by the very intentional, very targeted effort to make Americans stop trusting more or less anything other than their own personal biases and fears, to be able to shape the national dialogue in ways that would favor Russia, to make Americans look like fucking idiots (and to their limited credit, that isn't a long journey for some Americans) and ultimately also hurt people like Syrians and Ukrainians in the process. The documentary ALSO shows how Russia started by perfecting this technique on their own citizens, and what "the news" looks like there today, which if you've ever seen it is somehow both equal parts absolutely horrifying and the most unintentionally hilarious shit you will ever see.
Being a discerning consumer of information -- wherever and whoever it comes from -- is important. I'm not over here telling you to ALWAYS believe [whoever/whatever]. But Russia clearly undermined some really fundamental and stabilizing things here in the USA the last decade or so in ways I think we are only really beginning to understand and see the effects of.
Be smart and be careful out there, guys. Thanks for letting me ramble.
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