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kaijutegu · 4 months

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Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views

Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:

That is not what a happy gator looks like.

That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.

Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.

Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)

So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!

Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.

How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!

Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.

For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?

Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.

By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.

Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:

It is doing a threat display.

It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.

It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)

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It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.

There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.

In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.

It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)

Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator

So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.

Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)

Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.

As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.

Why Should I Listen To You?

Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?

Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!

But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.

Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:

Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets

The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt

Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk

Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet

Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang

Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)

Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson

Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul

Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.

#reptiblr #alligator #crocodile #Youtube

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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months

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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

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fanstuffrantings · 8 months

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A few things about Astarion that I need people to think about outside of him simply being flirty and attractive (since people keep reducing him to his sex scenes):

His route has a heavy focus on emotional intimacy and consent. You can sleep with him sure, but if in-between acts 2 and 3 you learn nothing about him and pressure him into having sex with you then you're not understanding his character and he'll only see you as someone who wants his body.

Ascended astarion is his bad/dark ending. I know people love it when he's powerful and ascended/durge is a relationship people love and I'm not here to say that's wrong or that you're a terrible person for doing it. But stop arguing that it's his happy ending, or that he's better for it when he literally loses himself and in a nonascended version he'll say he could feel himself changing in ways he didn't like. He becomes another cazador. He only truly expresses himself and feels release if he kills Cazador and doesn't ascend.

Unless you do the drow twin scene prior to beating Cazador you're not forcing him into anything. He gives approval for going through with it. Do I think he regrets it after because he realizes he was biting off too much too early? Yes. But it's literally him learning his boundaries and understanding what he is and isn't comfortable with. He's only just starting to be able to fully choose what he wants, sometimes you make mistakes. It's part of the process.

Astarion died young before he fully matured as an elf, but he wasn't a child. He was a magistrate in the city, he had a fully functioning brain. But just because he was an adult by human standards when he died doesn't make it any less heartbreaking. People dying in their 30s is still tragically young. And even more so for an elf.

(This one doesn't come up as often) he doesn't hate Gale, he is very much flirting with and attracted to Gale at in act 1 if you bring them around. In fact Shadowheart and Wyll are the only ones he has dislike for at any point and as the story goes he warms up to everyone. All the companions care for each other and it's one of the best found families in video games.

There are several companions I feel large portions of the fandom just misunderstand/don't fully read into and it's tiring because the devs made each one so layered and interesting. I just feel like since Astarion is essentially the face of the game now, he's the one who constantly gets boiled down to his most surface level qualities with little regard for his story as a whole.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #molten rambles

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amelee23 · 1 year

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Stray kids and their sneaky love antics | Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Stray kids members X reader (reader is implied to have periods in Felix's part but other than that no pronouns are used)

Genre: Fluff, comedy, bullet point

Warnings: sNeAkY bois, pranking and blaming it on ghosts, lino opens your bags without permission, overprotective behavior (??), they're all playing dumb, Jeongin is one feisty boy, periods, food (sweets) , lots of TEASING

Length: 2k total

A/N: It's all just for fun I swear 😂 I couldn't sleep last night so I came up with this lmao

Chan who always puts spare change in your jacket pockets

Maybe he noticed how you always seem to freeze on the spot or apologize awkwardly every time cashiers ask you if you have any change

Or maybe this is just his way of giving you money in a way you don't notice so you won't scold him for spoiling you (again)

You don't notice it at first, but you do breathe a sigh of relief when you actually do have some coins on your next purchase

And the next one...

And the next one after that...

Okay hold up, what the-

Is your jacket pocket an endless well of fortune??? You're taking out coins but they keep coming back???

Nah just joking of course you realized it was Chan

Especially since one day you caught him, like a gremlin in the dark, hovering around your jacket in the hallway

"Whatcha doing, boo?"

He jumps and tries to splutter some excuse to you but you're not impressed

"Ah, I wanted to ask you, do you have some spare change by any chance?" You tease him and he bursts out laughing and turns beet red

"You caught me!" He exclaims, still laughing as you drag him out of the dark to cuddle with you

"You sneaky coin goblin" you tease him further and ruffle his hair

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Lee know who always puts packets of sweet biscuits in your purse/ backpack

It's a habit for him, he's a caretaker - packets of snacks for all of his kittens (you included)

You told him you liked those packets of biscuits you bought from the supermarket last time

And you told him you get hungry often when you're not home

1+1=2

Lino buys biscuits. Lino puts said biscuits in your bag. And then he acts like nothing happened, of course

So when you come home one day, and look inside your bag and go "oh, how'd this get here?" he shrugs his shoulders.

"Aren't they yours?" And you're like sir what

"No? Maybe someone put them in my bag by mistake?"

"No no I'm pretty sure they're yours." He answers and you're like. Oh. I see how it is.

"And you had absolutely nothing do to with them, right?" You tease, and he purses his lips and shakes his head no

"Well then if they're mine, let's eat them!" You explain, and Lino snatches them out of your hand lmao

"No, I'm pretty sure they were there so you can eat them when you get hungry outside."

"Wow it's so weird you know that considering you had nothing to do with them!" Oh he's trying so hard to keep a straight face but he's failing

So you put them back in your bag and actually keep them as an emergency snack. And then send lino a pic with the empty foil saying "thank you <3" and he literally replies with "thank the ghosts not me. I told you I had nothing to do with it."

The ghosts continued to put biscuits in your bag

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Changbin who always carries around a fanny pack with a tiny bottle of water inside in case you get thirsty outside

Changbin often showcases his care for others by looking after their health

Sometimes he can be a little irritating and pushy, always telling you to exercise and eat this and that and what not

You came to a compromise eventually, you're not gonna work out with him but you're gonna go out often and go on many walks

After all it's quality time, right?

But no no the mans come prepared

Always. Wether it's an intended walk for exercise or a walk for romantic vibes or you're going to the mall, doesn't matter

He always has that teeny tiny water bottle with him just so he can go like "you thirsty? I gotcha babe" lmao

Because as Changbin always says, "soda doesn't help with your thirst, only water does" 🙄

He's no fun sometimes but you still love his overbearing ass <3

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Hyunjin who "accidentally" gets paint on the clothes of his you like sleeping in so that you could keep them

They say there's two stages to falling in love with a man

First, you fall in love with him.

Second, you fall in love with his clothes

And oh boy that hoodie of his was looking mighty fine that evening

And the evening after

Hyunjin could swear you growl louder than Kkami if he tries to take his clothes back

Well then oOps. He mighty have accidentally painted wearing that hoodie and might have accidentally stained it with paint (weird that the stain looked like it was made with a brush, huh.)

You were like, "Oh no! We can wash it??" And he was like this paint is really hard to get out of the material, so you just HAD to keep it as your sleeping hoodie now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But then it just so happened you also caught a crush on a shirt of his one day

How'd that one also end up stained with paint???

A whole ass mystery

But oop looks like that shirt can't be worn outside anymore either, what a shame.

Hyunjin smiles to himself as he sees the collection of his clothes that are purely reserved for you, sitting on the shelf he's dedicated to you.

They're just clothes after all. Objects. He doesn't care about them, he can replace them. But you're everything to him

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Han who always comes up with new nicknames and endearment terms, each one sweeter than the other

You can't lie. At first it was kinda cringe

The way he was all like "ah, my sweetie honey poo, my shiny golden angel, the first ray of sunshine of spring warming up my heart"

Ok, dork lmao

But they always made you laugh

And he loved seeing you happy

Some days he wouldn't do it and you'd instantly notice

It became a necessity, okay? To hear what ridiculous, creative mishmash of words he could throw your way

So you'd go outta your way to ask him, "so what am I to you today?"

And Jisung's brain is buffering "Uh, my lover?"

"Just your lover? What happened to being as soft and sweet as creme brulee?" He said that once. Yep.

And his eyes light up! He scoots closer and picks up your hand to kiss it

"You're the reflection of everything I hoped I could deserve in this world. My crystal ball of good fortune"

How does he keep coming up with these, nobody will ever know

But your goofy lyrical genius will do anything for you

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Felix who knows your menstrual cycle by heart and always carries pads with him

It's not that Felix paid extra attention to when you were talking about your period. He just ALWAYS paid attention to what you said

He's a man of detail

So he was listening to you, always offering to help you out with whatever you were craving or needing, and eventually he began to note down your cycle in his calendar and that somehow lead to preparing in advance every month

With snacks, asking you if pms is bothering you, if you're irritated, hungry etc

And of course he'd buy you pads for the house that's just a granted

But on top of that he also had an extra pack at his place from which he'd take one or two pads and put them inside his backpack for emergencies

He'd advise you to check if you can take days off in case the pain is too bad

And he won't push you to go out AT ALL

It's like he had two modes: boyfriend mode and older sister mode 😂

All in all he's not afraid to put in effort and he's a literal angel I'm telling you

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Seungmin who keeps putting candy in the pockets of your pajama pants

This one started out as a prank

He had no other choice but to get a couple of candy because the shop he bought from had no change to give him

And he won't just give you the candy, duuh

You had a habit of throwing your pajama pants on the back of a chair

His eyes landed of them and the plan locked in his head

He literally sat there and watched you put on the pants clueless. And then he URGED YOU to come to bed exasperatedly

But you were uncomfortable??? Something was poking your leg??

You take out the candy and squint at it in the dark

"What is this doing here?"

"I know right, why do you have candy in your pajamas, you weirdo."

Oh THE GLARE you gave him

Seungmin had an epiphany that night. That messing with you is fun. Oh boy.

He waited before doing it again, of course. He had to keep you on your toes

But this time you caught on the moment you pulled up the pants up your leg

"Kim Seungmin!" You exclaimed while laughing and he feigned innocence yet again. You still haven't eaten the candy from last time, so with a bunch of candy in your hand, you dropped them on the bed and began unwrapping one as you guys watched Netflix

"If you keep buying them, let's at least eat them, you fiend."

"Ew I don't want your gross pant candy." But he ate it after you thew a pillow in his face

But one time he put an entire candy cane in there and it was just jutting out of your pocket like a Christmas stocking and you literally broke into a laughter fit for 15 minutes straight

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Jeongin who will pick a fight with any person who interrupts you while you're speaking

Jeongin began to get angry on your behalf ever since you started dating

He's usually so calm, so chill

But suddenly!! if someone messes with his baby say goodbye calmness

That one guy who closed a door in your face? Literally scolded a stranger for closing a door in someone's face like that

God forbid someone pushes you on the street

He will literally sit there and teach people manners lmao

But if there's one thing about manners he hates, it's being interrupted while speaking

But if YOU get interrupted while you're speaking?

W a r

"Do you need to clean your ears? Someone was speaking."

Literally how DARE THEY interrupt his sweet angel

You could literally be talking to him about pigeons and he'd still think it's the most important thing he's ever heard

The amount of times he's sassily shushed people so you'd be able to finish one goddamn sentence

He's so disappointed in society, can you tell?

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powermakar · 1 month

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This is me Trying - LS2

A/N: I feel so bad for Logan after what has happened. Please don't send any type of hate to Alex.

Summary: James tells Logan that he won't be racing on Sunday and everything goes down hill.

Logan Sergeant x female!reader

Warnings: panic attacks and some swearing

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying, at least I'm trying.

“-so you won’t be able to drive this weekend”

“What?”

“Alex is going to be driving your car this weekend since his car is severely damaged.”

“Oh, okay,” Logan felt numb. He couldn’t feel his hands shaking, but he could see them physically shaking.

“I know it’s a lot but the team really needs this Logan. Thank you for doing this,” James said before walking off.

Logan began to feel himself lose touch with reality. It was a feeling he was beginning to feel comfortable with. I mean at this point it was happening every race weekend now, so he just HAD to get comfortable with it. At first, he didn’t know what it was, maybe he was just getting sick; but after a few times and some Google searches, he figured out what it was.

Panic attacks.

No one knew that he experienced them. Not James, not his trainer, not Oscar; hell, his own girlfriend did not know that he got them. He had to get out of there fast so no one found out. God, he couldn't even imagine what the media would do if it became public knowledge.

Tears and ragged breaths while hidden in the corners of his driver’s room became his go-to when he didn’t know what else to do. This time it felt different though. The sobs were louder and his vision was blurrier, he felt weak. He felt stupid. How could someone fuck up so badly and he still would get punished. He knew life wasn’t fair and he knew that Formula 1 wasn’t fair either.

But fuck, it wasn’t fair. At all.

The knock on the door did not register the first time, nor the second or third. He only realized someone entered the room when he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder.

You, the love of his life, was seeing him at the lowest he had ever been. Gasps in between sobs were loud and short, and Logan felt embarrassed. He felt shameful and afraid. He couldn’t breathe and he was scared for his future.

“It’s not fair, it's not fair, it’s just not fucking fair. I'm trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. Can’t you see that? Can’t anyone see that,” he babbled out.

“Logan I- I know that this is hard, you worked so hard. You deserve to be driving, you shouldn’t be placed on the back burner because someone made a mistake. You’ve worked so hard for so long and it kills me to see you like this. Have you thought about how Alex may-,” Logan cut you off before you could say anything else.

“No, no. Do not even start with Alex. I know he’s better, I know I am a liability, but I know I can try to be better,” he got up suddenly. He felt lightheaded, he felt dizzy. Stumbling around his room trying to get away from you. “I finally out-performed him and it just gets ripped out from underneath me. Literally,” Logan laughs bitterly. He didn’t care what he looked like now, he probably looked like a madman, but who the hell cares anymore?

“Logan- please just listen to me. Alex probably feels like shit. Yes he crashed his car but it's not his fault the team gave him your car. It's the team,” she pauses “It’s- it’s James’ fault.”

“I don’t care whose fault it is. I just care about the fact that this is probably going to be one of the last times I'm going to be in F1. My time is going to get cut short, no one has any faith in me anymore. I don’t blame them though, I’m failing and I'm terrified,” Logan says. He could finally breathe normally but he could still feel his heart pounding in his ears.

He didn’t understand any of it. How could he be failing so badly at something he used to be so good at? He glanced back at you, ready to face the disappointment he knew you secretly hid.

“Just tell me you can’t stand me anymore. Tell me that I embarrass you. Tell me that you hate me. Tell me that you are disappointed in me. Please just tell me, please.”

“Logan-,” you were in shock. You never knew that he felt like this, about himself. He hid it so well, almost to the point where it was impressive. “You know I could never say any of those things to you. I love you so, so much and I'm so proud of you,”

Both of you heard a knock on the door and one of William’s PR managers called out, “Media in 10, Logan!”

How they expected him to go out into the media pen and act like everything was fine was beyond you. Reaching up to cup his face in your hands, you quickly wipe away a stray tear that fell at your confession. Logan gently squeezed your wrist and smiled sadly. A silent, but meaningful conversation.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #williams formula 1 #williams racing #williams f1 #williams #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fluff

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lazycats-stuff · 1 month

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Batfamily x male reader

Batfamily x male!reader - this is part 1 everyone.

Summary: some talking is done.

Warnings: angst, fluff, (Y/N) is trying and so is the fam, cursing, trying to forgive, a punch was thrown, cutting people out

The fight echoed through the manor. Even days after it, the tension was still palpable. (Y/N) truly wanted nothing more with his so called brothers and father. If they tried to talk to him, they would be ignored or (Y/N) would just snap at them.

Almost biting their head off.

Safe to say, things were going to complete and utter shit.

Bruce didn't even know how to start talking to (Y/N). Was he emotionally reserved? Yes. But will he try everything in his power to make it right?

Yes. Everything he can do, he will do.

Bruce has decided to call a meeting. He made (Y/N) leave his room and (Y/N) has never looked worse. He couldn't sleep for days on end, only getting about 4 hours per night. He wasn't in the mood to eat either. He was only alive because Alfred had to make sure he was still alive.

Everyone noted that he looked like he didn't want to live anymore. More so, he looked dead. (Y/N) just sat down, an angry look on his face, arms crossed and body language closed off. He sat down as far as away as he could from them, clearly not happy to be here in the slightest.

He tucked himself in the chair, ignoring everyone and everything.

" (Y/N)... " Bruce started quietly, clearly not wanting to have a blow out and an explosion. " We have to talk through this problem. " Bruce continued just as softly and (Y/N) scoffed.

" We know we have been... Neglecting you, to say the least. But... We want to fix our mistakes. We want to be better. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chose to roll his eyes instead of listening. No matter what they could say could ever fix this.

" Well... 10 years too late. " (Y/N) said sarcastically, tapping his fingers against his tucked up knee, clearly anxious to leave this room behind. He really was anxious too leave.

" And we realize that. " Tim started softly, looking at (Y/N) with a sad look on his face. (Y/N) wouldn't allow them to see them sweat.

" Bullshit. " (Y/N) said quickly. They don't realize shit. " You are only doing this because Jon came over and pointed it out and now you are worried that the word doesn't spread. " (Y/N) spat out, leaning on his tucked up knee, glaring that the floor.

" That is not true. " Damian said and (Y/N) looked up, glaring at Damian, scoffing at the words, then laughing bitterly.

" Oh please. You never told Jon about me! I'm assuming all of your friends don't know I exist, right? " (Y/N) said as he rubbed his eyes from the exhaustion.

The silence was the only answer that (Y/N) needed.

" Yup and there it is. No one knows I fucking exist! " (Y/N) said loudly, blood pressure raising. He took a deep breath to calm down. " Just as I thought. No one knows I exist. No one even cared about my school achievements either... Let me ask you something Bruce. " (Y/N) asked, turning his attention to Bruce.

" Do you have a college fund for me? Just like you do for other four? " (Y/N) asked, itching for an answer. When Bruce looked away in shame and (Y/N) scoffed yet again.

" Also, don't you fucking dare setting it up. I have got a scholarship anyway. " (Y/N) answered the unasked questions. Bruce was proud of (Y/N). How could he have done this to (Y/N), forget to put a college fund...

" I'm sorry (Y/N). I didn't mean to forget you. " Bruce said, keeping his distance, but wanting nothing more than just hug him and kiss the anger away.

But alas, that's not how it works. (Y/N) has to forgive him first.

" Can you tell us more about the scholarship? " Jason chimed in, wanting to speak about something that (Y/N) could be happy about.

" It's for MIT. " (Y/N) said quietly and everyone was in shock. They didn't know that (Y/N) was into science and mathematics and what not.

Another mistake of theirs.

" That's amazing (Y/N). " Tim praised, smiling at (Y/N). Getting into MIT is hard as hell.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, but deep down inside, he craved that praise more than life. But some praise won't erase everything that happened.

" You would really have to move then... " Dick said sadly and (Y/N) glanced at all of them. They all seem sad that he would have to move all the way to Massachusetts, but it would be necessary. (Y/N) needed to get out of here. One way or another.

" I think what we all mean to say is that we are sorry. There is no excuse, not a single thing that could justify what we did and what we have caused to you. " Damian said and (Y/N) was shocked to hear the word sorry just tumble out of his mouth like that, so effortlessly. So easily. But he composed himself quickly.

" How do I put his nicely? " (Y/N) said, looking sarcastic. " I don't give a damn about any of you. I don't give a damn about apologies at all. I don't care about any of you. The moment I move out, all of you are going to be dead to me. Period. " (Y/N) said as he quickly stood up, going to his room.

He isn't going to fucking listen anymore.

" No, (Y/N) wait! " Everyone called after him and tried to stop him. Jason managed to grab his arm, but (Y/N) threw a punch and knocked Jason down on his ass, making the others rear back. It was a truly what the fuck moment for all of them.

(Y/N) was never violent.

(Y/N) slammed the doors of his room shut and everyone was silent. Jason was breathing heavily through his mouth as (Y/N) broke his nose.

" He has a hell of a punch. " Jason muttered as he stood up.

" We have a shit ton of gravelling to do. " Tim muttered and everyone nodded in agreement. Saying that they are dead to him, well, will be dead to him, that was sort of a nail in a coffin. Coffin about their relationship...

That was probably on the brink of death, if not dead already.

" Come on, he needs some time alone. " Bruce said and ushered everyone out of the hall, mostly Jason to take a look at his nose, to treat it and heal it.

That same night, (Y/N) quietly managed to get his things into a car, while others were on patrol and blocked them in the process. Then he started driving to MIT, because he didn't have the nerve to put his things onto a plane and go. And besides, he didn't have enough things anyway.

(Y/N) could finally start his new life.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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erosuguru · 10 months

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Bimbo doll

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, Satoru gojo x reader, all characters are 18+, reader is heavily bimbo coded and loves pink, satoru's gross here, 1.3k words approx

CW: Masturbation, satoru gets horny over reader sending him pics of her dresses, satoru has fantasies of reader and she's unaware, again satoru is gross here you've been warned, some proof reading but very little

Notes: I'm so sleepy and I'm too lazy to fix any other mistakes so if you see mistake no you didnt. had to write sth for Satoru, as wit all of my creative works I hate this but I hope u like it though!!

Satoru thinks you're absolutely adorable. From the moment he was blinded by the absurd amount of pink you were wearing, he thought you were the cutest thing on this planet. The coordinated color palettes of your clothes that always had a splash of pink, that shiny layer of gloss on your lips that you regularly reapplied, he gets so happy when he hears the clack of keychains because that means you're near.

Of course he couldn't keep himself away and you both exchanged numbers at one point, you gladly gave it to him after he shot you a lame pick up line— to which you laughed and smiled, simply telling him "you're funny! Sure!"It was almost too good to be true.

You got along well with each other, you both liked sweets, complimented each other's fashion sense, shared a similar sense of humour— when satoru asked you to describe him, you told him that you love being around him because he's fun (you said something about how he 'gets it', a quote about girls.. getting it and others not getting it..? He didn't understand, but he deduced that you like him, and that's all that matters.)

Satoru notices you love sharing tidbits of your day, and most of the time, you usually share a photo related to it in some way along with multiple typos, abbreviations, and emoticons.

"(Name)💘: Toru omg look at these shoes! Super cute right :3" Attached image sent.

"(Name)💘: I went 2 that cafe u told me, the strawberry shortcake is soooo good" Attached image sent.

"(Name)💘: I have 2 go 2 a party tonite, which dress should i choose!1!!??" 4 images sent.

Being friends with you had its benefits, you were comfortable with Satoru, so comfortable that he almost dropped his phone when he opened the images you sent; all of them were minidresses, all of them different shades of pink, all of them hugging your figure so tightly and snuggly he was tempted to stalk your social media to know where this party is.

He couldn't see the details that differentiated each dress, or at least he didn't focus on them as he felt his cock throb in his sweatpants.

"Ooooohhhhhfffuuck..." he mumbled longly to no one in particular, Satoru almost choked on his spit as he sat up from his position in his bed, all the heat rushing to his face as he examined your photos closely. Your poses so cute as you stared at your phone screen in the photos with a small pout, you had the pretty sparkly gloss on this time, that's his favorite..

(Name)💘: TORU OMFG PLZ ANSWEERRRR MY RIDES ALMOST HERE >:(

he almost forgot your little dilemma.

"Sorry lol I was eating, go with this one!!" he forwarded one of the four dresses with his response and sent his text, he felt guilty about lying but what was he supposed to say? 'My bad! You were so hot I got a little hard like some Virgin!' No way in hell.

You answered back quickly, how did you type quicker than he did with nails longer than his? He has a hunch it's because you don't care about typos but the dedication is admirable.

(Name)💘: TGANK UUUUU ill text u after the party!

(Name)💘: thank* lol

He let out a small laugh at your typo, scrolling back to the photos he zoomed in on one of the four he hadn't picked, and the reason why he didn't choose this dress is that he knows no sane rational person with a sexual libido would be able to resist you in this.

You looked so cute, so perfect, Satoru let out a small sigh as he pulled his dick out of his pants hissing at the cold air, his thumb smeared the precum over his tip. He should feel bad– terrible even, but how can he resist? There's no way you have no idea what you do to him, he tried justifying in his mind as his cock throbbed desperately in his hand.

Biting his bottom lip, the image of you in his phone fueled his imagination as he envisioned arriving with you at this party you mentioned, having such a pretty thing like you on his arm would be a major ego boost too. The length of your dress could easily allow him to pull down your panties (did you even have a pair on under that dress?), bend you over the host's bathroom sink and slam his cock balls deep inside you, relentlessly filling you then demanding you to pull your panties back up and come back to the party with him as his cum would be dripping between your thighs.

As Satoru bucked his hips up into his hand, he stopped briefly to spit into his hand, deciding there's no time to look for lube, he went back to fucking his hand to the thought of you. If only you knew your new friend got off to these innocent pictures you sent him, if only you knew what he wanted to do to you– he's confident you wouldn't wanna be friends anymore. Shaking his head he pushed aside those thoughts and focused on his current pleasure, his fantasy, his goal of cumming from the pictures of you in those dresses you handpicked to show him.

He mumbled words of encouragement as if you were there with him right now bouncing on his dick instead of the reality of his hand moving up and down, mutters of 'good girl's and praises like "so good, baby" and "yeah? You like that?", desperate to convince himself of his fantasy. Satoru tossed aside his phone long ago after making sure the photos were engraved in his mind, he wasn't expecting you to update him until sometime near midnight.

his eyes closed as his other hand slid up his stomach pushing up the material of his shirt until it reached his collarbone, his fingers trying to find any weak points on his body to rub, pinch or entice as his hand rubbed his dick to the pace of his imaginary storyline; where he dreamed of driving you back home and stuffing you full of his cock until the only word that was in your vocabulary was his name.

"Yesyesyes, (Name)..! Mmmmmhffuck..!" He groaned out as he felt his end near already, his face warming up to a soft reddish pink reminiscent of the tip of his dick as he fucked his hand, soft gasps and groans escaped him as he imagined all the filthy things he could do to you, all the filthy things he wanted to know about you.

What type of panties do you always wear? What type of men make you horny? Who have you been with? Would you let him fuck you? 'Please lemme fuck you, lemme fuck you..! Wanna fuck you..!'

The vulgarity of his desperation made him blush but brought him dangerously close to the edge, squeezing the base of his cock Satoru covered his mouth instinctively, he bucked up his hips as his cum coated his abdomen, stomach and some droplets even reached his chest. He moaned behind his hand as he felt the waves of pleasure shock through his body. He slowed his hips, mumbling for the imaginary you once more. "Take it, take it all, baby.."

He didn't want to move, he knew he had to but he wanted to relish in his fantasy a little longer, he wanted to pull you close and sloppily kiss your cute glossy lips and praise you for being a good girl, taking his load like that. He imagined his cum oozing from your slit but he wouldn't let it go to waste, he'd use his finger to slide it back in where he knows it belongs.

He remembered to save those photos for.. 'next time', reaching over to get his phone, he paused as he received a notification.

(Name)💘: party was lame, coming 2 ur place!! >:3c

Sitting up, the sweat that collected at his back from his 'session' cooled him off, he cleaned himself up and couldn't help but grin at your adorable message.

You don't need to worry, he'll entertain you more than any dumb party could.

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut

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alavestineneas · 1 month

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i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, daddy and sister issues, bald men chapter 1 - chapter 2 word count: 6,5K

author's note: hi beautiful people! this chapter may be classified as a prologue (yes, I am aware of its size, sorry, lol), but it is still integral to the story. we love evil people, especially evil bald people, in this house, so have fun and don't forget to wash your hands before reading! also, if you see things that are not canon, just know that me and the books are two parallel lines and we do not cross. feel free to point out grammar mistakes, though - english is not my first. love you!

Kaitain, 10176 AG

The violent streaks of light fight with the heavy cloth of drapes to find their way into the small, stifling chambers. The time was slowly crawling towards noon in the heavy summer heat, and the woman lying on the heavily decorated sheets was battling to get a breath in. Whether because of the annoying star, or the poisoning waiting, the patterns of sweat stained her tired face with esculent ornaments. Her lips, formed into a thin line, gleamed with small spots of dried crimson.

''Where is the messenger?'' The woman's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glued to the dancing light filtering through the window. ''The girl is strong; I can't hold her for much longer.''

The black figure on the chair in the corner slightly shifted at words. She was veiled, despite the heat—like a black hole, she seemed to suck the little air left. ''Forbearance,'' her raspy voice cuts through the room. ''The child makes you impatient. Control yourself.''

''I've waited, and waited long enough,'' the woman snapped, her frustration evident in her trembling hands. ''A few more minutes and all that is left of her will be a corpse.''

''Be quiet, Echidna. The child will live. If not, she was never meant to be part of our world in the first place.''

The woman clenched her jaw in a wave of pain and nodded. The girl ought to see the light of this planet today. Deep in her thoughts, she almost missed the rushed steps behind the door.

One of the Emperor's guards burst into the room, his eyes almost frantic. ''Lady Anirul has graced the Imperium with a daughter.''

Echidna smiled in relief, but her expression quickly changed as a beast-like cry pierced the air. The child was coming, with little care for the damage it caused to her aching womb. She tore the tissue down to the individual cells, gnawing her way with fists and elbows, moving the bones aside with brute force. Soon, her own cries were answered by much louder ones, as the head of the girl showed itself, covered in a thick layer of almost black blood. Just for a moment, the woman wished it would not steal another breath from the room, but she sharply composed herself. With a final push, the child left her body forever, leaving it a raw wound.

The small creature shrieked when the black figure approached, and slender, wrinkled arms took it from the warmth of rufous-red liquid. Echidna watched as the figure carried the girl away, resting her hurting body against the soaked pillows. She fulfilled her duty; she granted Bene Gesserit the daughter they wanted. She is bleeding under a beautiful sun; she is holding the ghost of her child in her arms—the real one was never hers anyway. Echidna knows the Emperor will not come. From now on, it is just her and her never-passing pain. Thus, Kaitain, home to the Corrino dynasty, was warmed by the light of a new sun—Princess Irulan, an heiress to the Imperium—and chilled by the shadow of her sister, born a few minutes later.

The calmness of the gardens was disturbed only by the soft strokes of brushes against a thick canvas. YN sighed, her eyes still fixed on the tree nearby, its young branches swaying with the wind. Her body ached from stillness, the tension in her neck from holding her head slightly bowed spreading down to her small back. They posed for a portrait of what seemed like an eternity to a child, and was almost it to an adult who dared to inquire; the painter, while satisfied with the draft, looked at the group of young girls almost in fear—no normal child of that age would be unmoving for three hours. And yet, they were.

YN felt one of her sisters shift even through the thick fabric of her silver dress. Small Chalice turned, her cheeks red from the heat or tiredness, her lips forming a pout—the child was tired, sleepingly rubbing her eyes. YN thought for a moment, debating if the punishment would be worth it, or if her sisters could wait just a little bit more until the man with colours would end the session for today. She noticed how Irulan's face was starting to droop, her eyes fluttering closed and opening just a second later. Their youngest, Wensicia, was already asleep in Irulan's arms; her golden hair spread across her and YN's laps as a beautiful cover, shining under the faint sun.

''I am tired, Master Chen. We should end the painting for today,'' YN finally spoke; her voice was almost a whisper. She did not know whether it was not to awaken her sister or out of fear of the Emperor's anger; it did not matter. The man nodded and left, taking his canvases with him, leaving only a few drafts behind. Then, the sisters were left alone in the garden.

''Thank you,'' Irulan said softly, placing her head on YN's shoulder.

YN only nodded. Her eyes found the paper not so far away, her gaze studying the strokes of the pencil with interest. Wensicia, a beautiful girl of two, was smiling brightly, holding an olive branch in her chubby hands, her small feet peeking under the hem of her white dress. Small Chalice was at the opposite end of her, her curly hair surrounding her head like a halo as she leaned forward, holding a small dove inside her palms. Then, sitting at the bench, surrounded by lush greenery and bushes, they. Irulan and the Other.

YN was placed just a step away from her older sister, her head turned away from the gaze of the viewer. The delicate folds of her silver dress carefully cascaded down, creating an air of mist around them. Her hands were empty; she did not know if the artist hadn't decided with each object to grace her with, or left them hollow intently. She looked like a shadow—a ghost, maybe; her eyes were escaping the viewer as if hiding a secret.

Irulan was different. She was a sun-kissed creature, her head facing straight ahead. Her eyes, as if inviting for a challenge, were made from duty, steel. With a burning star on her regal forehead, crowning the streaks of golden hair, Irulan was water and air, dulcet and ever-bending; her figure held the place and her pose was distinct and commanding.

YN looked at the girl beside her, who was now quiet nearby. Irualn was wise, the wisest of the sisters; her eyes were all-seeing, her heart all-knowing. She was created in the shape of a mother since they could walk, and the small ones bathed in her light, drinking her till the last drop —like flowers following the warm embrace of the sun. The only one who could not enjoy the love was her, the Other. The other sister, the other half. For they have been too close in age, too similar to let each other pretend the burden was not a heavy one to bear.

When Irulan was natural in her all-caring shape, YN had to claw her way to the only role left—the father. An unbent tree, a silent soldier—she was not born to fit as one, but wishing for a different order of things was almost blasphemy. That's how it always was with them—out of two, one was the protector, the other - the protected. "Husband," Irulan humorously called her often. She smiled, and, for a moment, the wave of resentment in YN's soul calmed. She never called her wife in return: Irulan was too whole to be one, too proud to be moulded into. She stood alone, on a higher pedestal than all of them, closest to the Emperor, whom the Other was to call father, and closest to the Truth. No, Irulan was God.

God does not know how to love someone who is not his servant, because there is no one who would refuse to serve him; it is the only way. God guides, despite all one's protests. God gives, and God takes. God demands; Irulan demands—silent obedience without a need to explain or answer. That, she takes from their father. So, the Other takes a blade into her hand without compassion for her dead wishes and learns to wield it in God's name. She is the one little ones turn to when the world is too wicked for their fragile souls when the creatures under their beds lose all of their human form and turn violent. She takes their sins and bears the punishments, for they are not deserving of such cruelty. YN thinks not of her own guilt—what difference would one scourage make to one who counts in centuries? And when the sun shone, and God smiled, the Other almost forgot of the bruises she carried.

The first time he saw her, it was not supposed to happen at all. Feyd-Rautha just closed the door to Maester's chambers with such force that it shook against lean walls; the grumble echoed in the long corridors of Giedi Prime's fortness. The ache in his body was muted, but still present; the torn flesh inside his heart howled and clawed, slicing the ribcage in half. He would've screamed, or perhaps beat his hands bloody against the concrete until the dull pain turned into something as sharp as his knife's blade. Maybe he would've drowned himself in a small water bowl by his nightstand and done anything to escape the shame and humiliation that consumed him from within. But instead, Feyd-Rautha stood still, his jaw clenched tight and his breathing shallow. One day, it will pass. One day, he will see the world choke on its own spit.

That's when he noticed a small, shadow-like figure at the end of the hallway staring at him. A girl, not older than him, was in a dress so foreign to him that it hurt his eyes. The daughter of the Emperor, he guessed. One of many—only then would the golden stitching on her sleeve would make sense.

''What are you doing here?'' he barked, caring little for the common courtesy. Of course, she was a guest almost as prized as her father, but she was in his territory and dared to look at him for long enough without averting her eyes. Long enough to notice the bruising on his pale skin and a swelness surrounding his lips. Long enough to hear him cry.

''I was walking with my mother, but then I turned into the wrong hall,'' she shrugged. ''Will you be kind enough to show me the way out? Or should I find it myself?"

Feyd-Rautha ignored her question. What a weird creature she was—with cascades of hair and eyes that seemed to see too much. ''It is dangerous to walk these halls without guard, Princess.'' It is dangerous to be here, alone with him and the weapon strapped to his hip, but he did not add it.

''There is no use of guards if the one who wishes to kill you is their master.'' The girl took a step forward, pointing to the weapon at his side. "I am not afraid."

Feyd-Rautha laughed. It came out more as howling than human sounds, the abrupt nature of it ringing with high notes, tip-toeing down to hysterical; it sounded creaky, like his throat was not made for such sounds; yet here he was, laughing. ''Come,'' he gestured to her, his hand moving quickly, like ordering a slave around. ''I will show you why you should be.''

So, they walked. Inside the grandiose chambers and small rooms, filled with ancient artefacts or the newest technology Harkonnens came up with; inside the green lavish garden inside the dim castle and the training grounds, Feyd-Rautha showed every place that was built to display the greatness of his house and bestone fear inside both guests and people inhibiting it. He wanted to see the horror in the girl's eyes, to make her eyes water and her frame flee. Instead, he listened to her steady breathing just a step behind him, her curious questioning satisfying another need he did not know his heart possessed: reverence.

He was the youngest member of the ruling line, the smallest stone in the castle of power his uncle had built. His title meant nothing within these walls; he was too small in comparison to the Baron and his authority. Feyd-Rautha was feared, despite only being nine; he was the shadow in the corner that grew longer as the sun set, the whispered name that sent shivers down spines. But here, in the hallway he led the girl into, he turned out to be something else.

''Stunning,'' the girl whispered beside him.

Weapons. The walls, from the floor to the high ceilings, were covered in ritual and fighting blades. The pride of house Harkonnen, the tree of their dynasty, black, silver, golden, and steel knives, swords, and daggers gleamed in the dim light. Feyd-Rautha smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Welcome to our burial ground."

They stopped near every one, his voice briefly covering the story of each blade and his owner; barons that came before him; fighters and rules that defined their legacy. Some still have blood on them—the highest honour; some look almost virgin. The small signs underneath them tell the names of people who wielded these weapons, their stories forever immortalised in the cold metal. ''Each Harkonnen ruler is crafted a blade of his own, the one he is to honour in battle.''

The girl nodded, her fingers tracing the shape of the last blade carefully. Her palms danced around the sharp edge, taking in the ancient symbols she had no chance of knowing. ''Will you have to kill Baron Vladimir in order to have one, like he did with his father before?''

Feyd-Rautha paused. Of course, he has thought about it before. The idea he repeated like a mantra in his head for all of his short life, the belief that spread burning flames down his spine. The words left his mouth for the first time but felt almost natural against his cracked lips. ''I dream of the day I have the chance to.''

The pair of foreign eyes that stared back at him held a glint of intrigue that quickly changed with a flash of acknowledgement. Feyd-Rautha held the gaze; not a single thing about it was hard. Still, he was the first to turn away; the burning sensation of being seen made him want to tear his flesh apart. ''Let me escort you to your rooms, Princess. The walls grow colder as the evening approaches.''

The weather on the planet leaves too few guards out of their breath, Irulan notes. The striking sun burns through the rounded windows of man-built walls, the frankly depressing landscape of huge boxes constructed with little intent for anything else but utilitarianism. She must not fear, while those lands will also be under her power with time, but the dreadful atmosphere of the lonely planet makes her skin break out in hives.

She believes the people here are more terrifying. White, hairless creatures with eyes as dark as the sun above them speak with just nods and courseys, paying little to no attention to the world around them, save for the concrete floors. ''Tell them to set themselves on fire, and they will,'' Irulan recalls Baron Vladimir telling her father over the banquet. She believed it to be a simple boast at first, but now, after a few days in the strange world, the words make greater sense.

Perhaps, the harsh weather made people here hardened. Perhaps, such cruelty is necessary for survival. What terrorised her more was her sister—the one who now silently reads nearby, her long dress carelessly spread on the floor. Irulan would never allow her dress to wrinkle before the concluding dinner, but she is not Irulan. Despite them being demisisters, they shared fewer similarities than one could guess. Two lambs, as many in court would call them—the white and black ones. They knew one another better than anything else; where one went, the other followed. Where Irulan failed, her sister succeeded. What was allowed for her sister, was fobility towards Irulan. No one was embedded in their small circle; no one could get close enough to understand the bond they shared—together, they were whole.

Yet as they grew older, the bond seemed to thin. The path to the mind of her sister was more often closed to her now, her thoughts veiled by the silence rooted deep into her veins. Irulan knows they are just growing up, trying to find their path in the unknown. But she is scared; what would be of her without her sister? What use would the river have without fish to fill it?

''I shall go,'' her sister says, closing the book. ''The dinner starts soon, and I wanted to return the book before it.''

''Is it the one Na-Baron recommended?'' Irulan voices. Truth be told, she would never touch anything that Baron or his family possessed, even more recommended, but her sister seemed to enjoy the ancient text.

''It is. Rather interesting are the traditions of these people. Did you know their slaves have no tongues?''

Irulan feels sick to her stomach; the thought of having slaves brings the small bits of her recent meal to her very present tongue. ''Can I come with you?'' she asks, instead of answering. Irulan does not want to leave the faint safety of her rooms, but even more, she does not want to be left alone. She feels vulnerable—she is not of power here, despite being the embodiment of it in all of the other corners of the Imperium.

''You know I walk without guards.''

Irulan knows. While she is not able as much as bathe without the presence of someone with fighting knowledge, the rules do not seem to apply to her younger sister; she can move freely, as she wishes. Was it because she carried a thin blade with her and knew how to use it, or because of the lack of care from their father? Irulan was not sure. What she was sure of, was that no woman of twelve should leave her sister alone in the halls of Harkonnens' fort.

''It is just to the reading room and back, is it not?''

''Yes,'' her sister nods. ''I'll take you,'' it means.

So, they walk. Fortunately, the guards usually waiting outside are nowhere to be found, and they manage to slip away unnoticed. Irulan holds the hand of her sister tightly, with each noise from the outside digging her nails deeper into her soft palm. Her sister says nothing; she steps calmly into the labyrinth of corridors, navigating them without much evident trouble. Soon, they find themselves in front of a huge black door, incarnated with words Irulan hold no knowledge of.

Inside, the chamber is massive; it forms a beautiful, round circle with ceilings so high that the air in it is always chilly. Rows of books and manuscripts fill the shelves out of oxidant, contrasting starkly with the white wall. The black circle table of cold stone is filled with replicas and ancient artefacts, each emitting a soft glow.

Who knew the small, desert planet held such treasures inside? Irulan forgets about her sister entirely—the texts call to her, golden lettering shining under the light. Irulan follows the names on the covers: legends, myths, histories, and art overviews. Some even contained gardening and soil research; Baron likely held those for a good laugh.

Irulan travels deeper and deeper until the voice of her sister addressing the only library keeper almost disappears, consumed by tall bookcases. The section she finds herself in is solely dedicated to martial arts; where, if not here, would the hundreds of books on such a topic be stored? Some of them are used; the spines are slightly older; others look brand new.

Irulan is brought to her senses only when she notices a black figure moving in the corner of her vision. She puts the book back and Listens. Just like the Sisters taught her, her inner ear picks up the faint voice of her sister, and the moving of two sandaled feet—the slave handling the books. She feels something else, too. A presence familiar enough to recognise but not enough to name.

''We have to go,'' she says, grabbing her sister by the shoulder and pressing. ''We will be late,'' she explains to the slave. Not that it would question the whims of the princess.

''Why?'' her sister turns to her, confused. ''I was looking at some other books. Weren't you also?''

''Please,'' Irulan whispers. ''We spent enough time here as it is.''

Just as her sister was about to answer, the atmosphere shifted. The air, sitting in its calmness, heavied. The silent before slave turned on its feet, its eyes burning holes in Irulan's body. It lurches towards them, opening its obsidian mouth to show the blackened void inside—indeed, it possesses no tongue.

Irulan freezes. The void seems to suck her in, the sharp mouth growing wider as its owner approaches her body. The fear paralyses her, planting her otherwise quick feet deep into the ground. Now, her training as Bene Gesserit should awaken—she should oppose, or at the very least dodge, the attack. But the black mouth continues to draw her in, clouding her thoughts with terror.

The body beside her shifts; her sister is quick. With one strong thrust, she pushes Irulan aside. '' Hide ,'' the voice within her head commands, and Irulan has no force to object to the technique. She crawls under the heavy stone, frantically looking for something—anything—to protect herself with.

Despite the long skirts, her sister moves like Adam's wine; she bends and turns, and strikes the man far taller than her, but he seems determined on the idea of killing her. Her sister grunts under the heavy hits; one sits in her abdomen, and another lands on her knees. The slave's nails leave a trace on her skin, rough enough to pierce the young dermis.

Eventually, her sister grows tired; the slave pushes her to the ground, pressing his slender body on top and closing its white, almost translucent hands on her throat. Irulan clasps the found sharp cutting instrument to her chest, desperately trying to calm the wave of fear forming there. ''I must not fear. Fear is a mind killer,'' she whispers again and again.

She watches as her sister's hand slips under her clothes and emerges an illicit, slender blade—it shines under the light just as lettering did on the books a minute ago. To Irulan, it feels like a year's hundred. ''No!'' she wants to shout as her sister raises the steel and preys it into the eye of the slave, but the words are unable to leave her throat. Like a waterfall, crimson covers her sister's face, staining her light grey dress in hot circles.

The slave falls on his back, his hands leaving their place on her sister's neck.

''Enough, please! Sister, stop!'' Irulan cries, crawling out of her hiding spot but daring not to get closer.

Her sister doesn't hear; she lurches towards the man in a slick puddle and takes his life quickly, cutting his throat in one swift motion. The blood from his arteria leaves the body in pulsations; they spatter everywhere, some drops going as far as touching the shelves.

The silence settles in the chamber once again; only the sound of weakly flowing blood disturbs the stillness. Her sister does not shed a tear; she meticulously cleans the blade with the slave's white cloth and slips it back into the folds of her gown.

''What have you done?'' Irulan whispers. Her hands tremble; the sight before her crawls into the deepest corners of her mind and tears everything there down. How can one kill so easily? How can one be so cold and calculating, as if it were nothing more than a daily chore? How could that one be her sister, the one she shared a life with?

''I protected.'' Her sister's voice is hoarse, but firm. There is no remorse in her tone, only weariness. ''What have you done?'' She turns to face her. Her hair, carefully braided by servants for dinner, is undone; the wet strands of it grip her face like a vice, framing the unseeing eyes.

Like that, she looks like a woman mad. Irulan backs into the safety of the doors, feeling her fear turn into something much greater. ''Do not come near me,'' she commands. Just as the heavy doors close behind her, she sets off running.

YN waits until the footsteps of her sister are no longer heard, and only then does she come out of the reading room. She pays the body on the ground little attention; no one would bet an eye on the death of a useless creature like that. It did not intend to kill; rather, someone made it do it. Who, in their right mind, would try to harm the heir of the Emperor? How would they know that Irulan would follow her there?

Irulan. The one who watched as the Other almost gave her life for hers, the one who had the nerve to be repulsed by the blood on her hands—the blood she spilt protecting her. What do you do when you are not allowed to be angry at God? Why does God shame one for the will she herself inflicted on one to bestone? YN would ask the sun, but it hid behind the walls of the fort. She would ask, but no one would answer.

So, she does what she is meant to do—finds her way into the large dining hall, where everyone, of course, is starting to gather. The Emperor would be dissatisfied to find her not there on time; she has no time to fix her appearance. In light of the slight possibility of shaming their House with her muddled hairstyle or suffering yet another punishment for being even late, she chooses the first option.

The guards let her in without saying a word. YNr watches as the shield slides open, revealing a full hall. Rows and rows of tables, filled with foods one would imagine never would have made their way to the Giedi Prime, and laughter not so usual for a harsh realm.

''Princess...'' the servant starts, announcing her arrival, but she shushes him with a slight wave of her palm. She does not notice the crimson liquid staining it.

The Other makes her way to her seat calmly, careless of the way people around her stumble and twist their faces in shock. The only eyes that watch her without fear at the Emperor's table are those of Lady Echidna. Her face betrays no emotion at all—hidden by her veiled black cloth, it only slightly moves when the YN passes her seat.

She holds the angry gaze of the Emperor calmly. He will demand an answer, of course if Irulan has not whispered the truth into his aged ears already. Her sister probably would do no such thing; in that, she would admit to disobeying the orders bestowed upon her. YN is puzzled at the attention directed towards her humble figure—the first thing a Bene Gessarite in training learns is not to be repulsed by the anatomy of her body. Why be grossed out by the liquid coursing through her veins—the liquid she carries all her life? Why be scared of death, when it is always at your doorstep? In the sway of her thoughts, the Other also seems not to perceive the pair of icy blue eyes glued to her figure as she finds her seat and takes her place.

"The boy follows you around like a dog." The mother's tone stands not in judgment but rather simply states the truth.

Lady Echidna is not veiled now; her heavy hair is still tightly braided out of her face. Just a small black ribbon highlights her status as one of the Emperor's senior concubines, a position most would bear with honour. To her, it was yet another stain on her earthly body—the body she could not call her to possess. The black sun of Giedi Prime is finally long behind them; nothing but a few light orbs floating around illuminate the chamber, yet her intense gaze seems to pierce right through the girl that sits across her.

"I know, mother. His steps are heavy; his thoughts are even heavier; they follow me much more often."

The woman's fingers stop working on an intricate needlework for a moment, before continuing as it was. "You are to call me Sister, girl," she speaks, her voice low.

YN drags her teeth across her tongue, feeling the anger flow through the veins in her body. She wishes to be far away from this small chamber, to run and never face the woman's eyes again. "The girl has a name, Sister. Or do you fear to voice it?"

Lady Echidna places the cloth on the table beside her gracefully, as if paying no attention to the words spoken. But YN can sense can feel the resentment that burns inside her mother's stomach, spreading its molecules to her throat. "A name holds meaning; for a person to have a name, one must first be of character and substance. You are none."

YN bit the soft flesh inside her mouth; it tasted bitter. It was better if her mother shouted, if she hit her if she did anything to prove YN is still here in her eyes, that she was not just a void the woman spoke her riddles into. Maybe then the pain inside her would have a meaning, would have a reason better than just childish hurt. "Did I not have a beating heart when I left your womb, Sister? Did you not hear it loud and clear? What kind of proof is needed more of me?"

"My daughter died that day, screaming. You took her place. So do not bother me with your foolish talks anymore, for we both know they just waste the air we breathe. Am I heard?"

She was. The tears dried on YN's face before having the chance to spill, and she turned to her studies. Once more, a feeling of ever-lasting cold surrounded her shoulders. The never-leaving vision in her mind appeared once again—her mother's quick steps as she walked away in another corridor of Giedi Prime's fort, her head straight ahead as YN pleaded not to leave her alone, her legs glued to the command spoken. It was a blessing that the boy found her earlier than his uncle.

Time has passed since the first time YN's eyes saw the black sun of the foreign planet so far from hers. The Other trained, restlessly, in the tongues of ancient warriors and the most prominent whisperers, slowly earning the right to bear Knowledge in her crown-empty head. She had much yet to learn, but the prospect did not frighten her; with every passing day, she felt power building in her hands and soul. Patience, the greatest virtue of all. She was alone now, without her half of a sister; alone, in her solitude, the heavy bearings seemed not as heavy—she had no one to enlighten about her battles. Still, God was on her mind; YN felt her presence near, her watchful eyes guiding her. Like the tight, dampened cloth on her bruised knuckles, her sister was stuck to her open wound of a soul.

Irulan has grown. Her complexion changed; she no longer looked like a bright-faced girl who left her sister alone in Harkonnen's library; the plump cheeks were gone, and so was fear. At the Other stared a sole statue of power she bloomed into. Silver collars, light blue waves of fabric—the cut is, as always, straight. The Other eyed her up and down, taking in each detail of the painting-like sight. Irulan did the same—a slight disgust at the Other's simple tunic and pants, creased from the sparring. Irulan did not need to be broken in order to be a Sister in the Bene Gesserit; they wanted her Corrino first, and a servant second. The Other, however, held no such value—a child carried not by the lawful wife, a second, a spare. So, there would be no bone in her body left untouched by the lessons, no string in her soul unharmed by the knowledge. They crushed her cartilage in grey sand and forced her to swallow the bitter truths of their ways. Yet, God remains undisturbed—stoic. Eternal.

''Will you not eat again?'' Irulan musses, putting another piece of dish in her mouth.

The Other would take it as a cruel joke from anyone else, but not from God. She shakes her head instead. ''I am forbidden.''

Irulan hums. It was not the first time YN would be disciplined this way; the cycle of punishment and forgiveness was all too familiar to her. The room is silent; there is no one but the two of them. She could offer to eat, and no one would know she did, but Irulan won't offer. The Other does not expect her to; pity is not something a sister can possess.

''How are your lessons going? A fresh knowledge, perhaps?''

YN nods. If she opens her mouth now, her voice will betray her. She could cry all she wanted in the presence of a sister, but it is not appropriate for a thirteen-year-old to behave this way in front of God. The Other is reminded of that with an absence of bruises on Irulan's skin; her hands were never cut by the sharp blades, and her mouth was never starved. ''Why was I summoned from training?'' She asked, directing her eyes to the figure in front of her.

''I am here as a messenger from the Emperor.''

YN's eyes narrowed. ''And what does our dear Emperor desire to tell me now?'' She wishes not to hear anything he has to say; the Other is perfectly content here, amongst her Sisters. Here, she is of cost.

''Recently, Baron Vladimir turned to our House for guidance. He and na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen felt misled by the House Artreidis, and their promise of a bride that did not come. Our father has graciously offered to negotiate the conflict and pay the needed price for the Baron's cooperation.''

''Of course, he did. With all of our might, we are still afraid of the savages that made Arrakis their home. With what advice, may I ask, did the Emperor provide the Baron?''

Irulan's lips turn into a straight line, with the small wrinkle on her forehead appearing. Something that she carried with her through childhood. Something that still reminded of home. ''With the proposal of a woman of our House to na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.''

''A gift? Irulan, I am so sorry.''

Sure, the bridge between them was long forgotten, growing with tall grass and wildflowers, but the weight of their shared history still lingered in the air. Irulan was still her sister, no matter how many times the Other tried to tell herself otherwise. And no woman sane would consider giving her sister to the inhumane brutes that were Harkonnens—the people even Bene Gessarit wished to observe from afar; the people so ruthless mothers told stories about them to their small offspring in an attempt to instil fear and obedience.

Irulan does not answer. She hides her gaze, her eyes following the wooden panels of the quarters.

''What is it, sister? Speak .''

''The offer Emperor found the most fitting would be of your hand, not mine.''

The Other exhales. As if a heavy stone were put on her chest, she fights to bring much-needed oxygen to her bloodstream. She almost feels the erythrocytes scatter from her face into her neck, hidden by the cloth, and gather there in an attempt to regrow their might. Her throat twists and closes, its muscles compressing until not even an ounce of air can get in. All of her organs, from heart to stomach, made their presence known; one by one, they tensed and burned, forcing the otherwise relaxed hands to grip them.

It was supposed to be Irulan. The first one to marry is the oldest sister; the title high enough to satisfy the ambitious Harkonnes would be hers, no less. Yet, here she stands, not even looking at the one taking her place as she sentences her to an ultimate death. No matter how much power the Corrino name held, on Giedi Prime, she would consider herself fortunate enough if she were to meet her end quickly.

''Why, Irulan? Have I not been a loyal servant to you all those years? Have I not followed every order without question? ''

Irulan is unmoved in her position. ''We can not risk the Harkonnen blood getting on the throne, you know it.''

''You mean we can not risk you? We are not eight anymore, dear Irulan; you can speak truthfully now. Do you really think the Emperor will treasure you more if you say nothing now? We are no sons, Irulan; we are sisters, you and I. Please, spare me this fate.''

''Yes,'' the girl lifts her eyes, taking a step closer. ''We are no sons; you knew that one day we would marry for the peace of the Imperium. Why do you shout now?''

''Married, yes, but not murdered for the sake of the fucking old man who could not hold his promise. They are monsters, Irulan, spilling innocent blood for the fun of it. I beg of you, sister, show me the mercy I know you are capable of.''

''You are worried about blood? What could one more splash of blood mean to you? You have been no sister for a long time; I order you, as an heir of the Emperor and as the messenger of his will here, to comply. Do not make it harder than it has to be.''

The Other smiled—she would not grant the pleasure of tears. ''Very well, then. Someone needs to go first. I'll go; I'll be first, at least here. Tell the Emperor that I will comply with any of his wishes, whether it be to throw me to the sharks or to feed me to the sandworms. As a confirmation of my undying loyalty, you may show him this:''

She slaps her. She slaps her not like a warrior, not like the trained assassin she was raised to be; she slaps her like a sister, bitterly, harshly. For the first time in her short life, YN raises a hand on something she deems holy—the God's shocked face brings a sense of satisfaction to the Other's veins, even if the same blood courses through them. She turns on her heels and walks away, leaving the forsaken room behind. Leaving God behind.

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kaiyaamin · 4 months

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Hi! I really enjoy your stories! I was wondering if you could write a batfam x batmom reader story about the boys (not including bruce) getting magically age reversed (i.e. dick becomes damian's age, damian becomes Dick's age, and Jason and Tim swap ages) and the 4 of them getting into shenanigans and chaos. And Batmom teasing and coddling them.

This sounds amazing, and sorry it took so long to post but I was writing it and my computer started resetting and it did not save this draft so I had to start over.

WHAT HAPPENED!!!

Bruce decided to take his kids to the Justice League hall, where he was showing them the Machine Hall which was VERY DANGEROUS. During the middle of the tour, there was an emergency alert, deciding to leave his kids in said dangerous room but why not.

"Jason, don't touch that Dad said it's dangerous", said Dick was already tired of Jason's shenanigans, and playing pranks on everyone. "Quit being such a buzzkill, and have fun no adults are around", Jason said in a playful tone. Jason was very unserious sometimes but when he's mad he will kill you. "You know Jason, you don't act very mature for an Adult and BTW there are adults around you and Dick", Tim was the smart one always pointing out his brother's mistakes in a not-so-kind way. Damian just stood there glaring at his brother fighting like little children.

"Oh what, touching a machine is going to get us killed", said Jason. "I hope it kills you first", Damian said. But It was too late for Jason had touched the machine despite Dick's warning.

Suddenly a bright light blinded the boys. AHHHHHH, screamed the boys, The bright light dimmed down and the boys saw each other but of different ages. Dick and Damian's ages were switched so Dick was 12 and Damian was 25. So was Jason and Tim, Jason was 17 and Tim was 23.

The boys were freaking out, trying hard to comprehend the situation. Damian started to immediately blame Jason for this while Dick was trying to calm himself down from having a panic attack. Lastly, Tim wasn't that affected and went looking at the machine Jason touched. "Hey guys look at this" Stated Tim when the boys looked at where Tim was pointing They realized... "Jason you Idiot you touch an age switch Machine", said Dick. "Aww shit, I didn't think this would happen," said Jason. "No fucking duh Jason, if you knew this would not have happened," Damian said while hitting Jason on the back of his head.

Bruce later found out with a panic attack and was scared of how he would tell his wife this happened under his care. But he also grounded Jason for 1 month again.

Timeskip to the manor

hey kids..... was the first thing Batmom had said before seeing her kids not looking like her kids. WHAT HAPPENED? Her Dick looks so young and cute and her Dami looks so tall and mature, Jason looks like a teenager and Tim seemed well older.

Mom we can explain, Dick said and explained the whole situation of what happened because of Jason's stupidity. Well, where was your father when this happened? What Tim had told her was not the answer she wanted. You left the kids alone in a dangerous machine room, Batmom continued scolding Bruce and her kids for this misfortune but internally screaming about how cute her kids looked.

No matter how hard she tried, she absolutely adored Dick and Jason, for it reminded her when they were young. And then she started crying with Tim and Damian feeling sad they had grown up so tall and handsome even though they were still the same by heart externally they looked different.

DICK

Being a 12-year-old was not as bad as he thought or so he thought. His mother became even more protective watching his every move and she refused to let him go whenever they hugged each other. Mom, you have to let me go, NO!, his mother shouted. But...Mom, I can't breathe. Then breathe later.

During this chaos, he found out he had to go to school, don't ask why. The whole day was torture I mean who wants to go to school after already graduating not Dick, to make matters worse he had to hang out with Jon. He was the only kid he knew and he didn't want to socialize with kids younger than him.

Curfew for patroling was a lot different since he was 12, he had to be home at 10:00 and he couldn't go anywhere without an escort because he was too "young" to drive.

And even the Titans made fun of his appearance, I mean their brave and powerful leader was a 12-year-old and a short one. Can you guys just help me! Dick shouted in anger. No, can do, not until we finished laughing at how short you are, kon said laughing at Dick who couldn't even reach the high cabinets.

JASON

Jason, honey what are you doing? you need to get up, his mother said in her usual calm voice. here he was lying in his bed with nothing to do, it was only 7:30 am. Why, I have nothing going on. Didn't I tell you, you're going to school to collect Tim's work so he can complete it at home, Batmom said while opening his blinds. But Mama...No buts get up and get ready for school. Jason was not happy and grumbled the whole time getting ready for school.

Jason was getting ready for patrol putting on his suit and wishing his Mama goodbye. Before she told him the horrible news, He had a curfew. His mother used the excuse that growing boys needed energy and he had school in the morning. Mom, please I don't need a curfew I am fine. No, and that's final Jason, his mother said in a stern voice.

good news He could drive and hang out unlike Dick who needed to be escorted when driving, Man did Jason crack up and tease Dick. HA, you can't drive what a loser, Dick was not happy and vowed he would get Jason back.

With Jason's curfews, he had to sneak out but lucky for him, he had done it so many times. The only problem is his mama was watching him like a hawk, but when everyone was asleep he decided to climb out of his window. Only to be stopped by the infamous Batmom and her sidekick Batman, grounding him for another month. Hey mom, how did you know I was sneaking out and where I would be? hmm, Dick told me. Damn it, Jason said cursing under his breath passing by a laughing Dick when coming upstairs towards his room.

TIM

was Tim happy? Yes, yes he was. Switching ages with Jason seemed bad but it turned out good when he found out he didn't have to go to school, he had the whole day to himself. While Jason had to go to his school and get all his assessments, It was good because it only took him an hour to complete the work Jason gave him.

First thing first, He explained to Stephanie what happened after she accidentally came to the manor expecting to see her boyfriend but instead saw a tall, handsome adult-like Tim. It took some time for her to cope with what happened but after she was furious with Jason. After he came back from school she hit him with her slipper right in the face. OWWWW what Hell Stephanie! why did you hurt me, Jason said in shock. You turned my boyfriend into well this, Stephanie said with her hands still griping the slipper. MOM, why are you standing there, do something! but to Jason's surprise, his mother did nothing and instead told him, he deserved it.

Tim had no curfew which meant rubbing it in his brother's face. HAHA, Damian and Tim both laughed at Dick and Jason going home from patrols while they get to stay. Shut up, both of them grumbled not liking the feeling of being teased. Since Tim was legally an adult, why not have alcohol, after one glass of wine he got drunk. HEy GUyS, LoOK at ME I aM a BAnANa, Then proceeded to start crying when Titanic came on, NOOOOO, HOw COuLd JAcK DIe!!! while the whole Bat-family saw this, well now we know he has no alcohol tolerance said Dick, with Jason and his mother laughing their asses off. Damian looked at his father to say something only for him to be astonished, trying to find the proper words only for nothing to come out. And Alfred gets Tim some tissues and water.

DAMIAN

Damian hated everything and everyone except for his mother of course. He Knew from the beginning this was bad and turns out he was right it was chaos.

Damian didn't do anything different except now he can drive legally, he could drive before but wasn't allowed for you know only being 12. He used this opportunity to get away from his crazy family.

Damian still hang out with Jon when he was out of school and gossiped about Dick and how he was at school, it was hilarious. Though Dick was not happy about it.

Unlike Tim, Damian had a high alcohol tolerance. Dami, you are surprisingly good at drinking and not getting drunk easily, have you drunk before? No, Ummi..... but could not continue, how could he lie to his Ummi so he told the truth. Yes, Ummi I already had my first drink. WAIT, WITH WHO? said Batmom in a shout, ready to throw someone out the window. With Dad, and that was not the answer she was looking for. BRUCEEEEE!!!!, screamed Batmom. Yes honey, Bruce said panting. Did you take Damian to have his first drink? Umm oh no is that the Joker breaking into the bank again. Oh No better stop him bye, and with that, he left like he was Flash already out the door. And to say the least, Batmom was not happy.

Time skip after 3 days

Some random mad scientist Bruce found on the black market reversed the kid's ages. Dick was 25, Jason was 23, Tim was 17 and Damian was 12.

Everything was back to normal, SIKE. Batmom punished everyone in the manor except for Alfred of course for all the things they did when reversed. Bruce was grounded and sleeping on the couch leaving the kids alone in a Dangerous machine room and keeping the fact that Damian had his first drink.

Batmom was so happy but still sad. Of course, she's happy her kids are back to normal but her two eldest had to leave to go back to their house, it was heartbreaking. So to make their mom feel better they did Family Game Night 😉.

#batfam x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batmom #batman #batfam x batmom #batmom imagine #batmom imagines #batmom!reader #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #damian al ghul #alfred pennyworth

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weird-is-life · 11 months

Text

Here for you

Pairing: Spencer reid x fem!reader

Summary: 4 times you take care of Spencer and one time he takes care of you

Warnings: use of y/n, like one petname, swearing, mentions of injuries, bruises, blood, mentions of food, hospitals, abduction, mention of car accident

Words: 6.8k. Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language,so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes

It's slow day at the bau. Everybody is going through their files and reports. Or at least they are pretending to be doing that.

Your desk is next to Spencer's, so you can clearly see what he is doing. He, probably the only one, is actually working. With his incredibly fast reading, he is putting one paper down after another. Which, you have to say is pretty fascinating and entertaining to watch. Well, up until the point he accidentally cuts not one but 2 of his fingers on the paper.

You hear him hiss in pain, which causes you to break out of your thoughts. Your attention is immediately on him.

His hand starts to get a bit bloody, you don't think, you've ever seen so much blood from a paper cut. So you are up on your legs before you know it. Spencer is frantically looking for what you assume is a tissue in his drawer, when you wrap his fingers in your tissue.

"Here," you say, smiling at him, "who knew a paper cut could bleed so much, huh?"

You expect some fact about paper cuts from Spencer, but he is still looking for something in his desk, so he just hums in agreement.

"Spence," you get his attention,"what are you looking for?"

"Uhh, my antiseptic spray, but I can't find it anywhere and I don't want it to get infected or something," he responds.

"I have one!" You always carry a small first aid kit with you. You never know, when it could come in handy. "I'll get it." You are quick to retrieve it from you bag along with some patches.

"Can I?" you gesture at his hand.

"You want to do it?" he asks, a little unsure and bashful.

"Yes, so can I?" Spencer nods and you gently take his hand in yours. As you patch up his hand, you can feel his eyes studying your face. You can't help but to blush under his gaze.

Spencer's thinking of how pretty you look and that, maybe he should get the paper cuts more often, just for you to take care of him oh so softly.

"All done," you say with a smile,"hopefully i did okay."

It takes Spencer a few seconds to realise you are talking to him and stop looking at you. You clearly catch him staring at you.

He quickly tries to play it off and gives you the best smile he can, "you did, thank you y/n."

"You are very welcome," you think of teasing him about being more careful around papers, but you decide, that he looks flustered good enough.

It's been a tough few days. The unsub is pretty smart and it took the team almost a week to find out who it is.

You are now standing outside the unsub's house about to go inside on Derek's cue. The team has split up in a half, you, Derek and Hotch are at the front door.

As soon as the door is opened, there's a lot of shouting and the unsub takes off to the back door. He catches Spencer off guard there and roughly slams him against the wall and runs away. Almost everybody runs after him, except you and Rossi. You two swiftly go to Spencer.

Spencer is lying on the floor, groaning in pain and your heart almost jumps out of your chest when you see him like that. It only takes you and Dave a few seconds to see that his shoulder doesn't look okay. And from closer look, it definitely isn't alright.

"Don't move," Dave instructs him," I think, you might have dislocated your shoulder." You call for a medic, as you look at Dave and then at Spencer with a worried frown.

You find Spencer's hand and squeeze it reassurance. He tries to give you the best smile he can over the pain. You don't even want to imagine to amount of pain he is in, his expression is enough for you to know it's bad.

Thankfully, the medics get to you in a short time and take Spencer to the ambulance. In the ambulance, he is told, that it's definitely dislocated and that they need to put in back in the right place. Spencer's eyes widen a little at that, but he braces himself for it and manages to survive it with only a small whimper of pain.

You stay with him the whole time, as they treat him and honestly you probably look more in pain than Spencer. You hate to see him like this.

"You shouldn't move your shoulder too much for 2 weeks," the medic starts to instruct as she puts some kind of bandage around his shoulder, "also you should ice it every couple of hours for the next couple of days. It will reduce the pain and swelling."

"It doesn't look, that anything is broken or teared, so you should just let it rest, but if it hurts too much, you should go to the hospital."

"Thank you," Spencer says and gets up slowly with your help.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you ask on the way to the car.

"Yeah, so fucking much, I'd literally die for some painkillers right now," he groans.

"Wish I had any, but I left everything at the hotel. I'll try to get there as fast as I can," you say, as you open the door for him and help him inside. He hisses in pain, while doing so and you murmur a sympathetic sorry to him.

On the ride to the hotel, he closes his eyes, willing the pain to go away and you try to drive as best as you can, considering that every bump sends a jolt of pain to his shoulder.

At the hotel, you quickly pack up your things and head to Spencer's room with the painkillers in your hand. You find him struggling to even fold his clothes, so you help him.

"Got everything you need?" you ask as you look around the room, seeing if you've packed everything.

"I think so, thank you" he smiles at you. You return the smile, "of course, Spence. We should probably go, everyone is already in the car."

As soon as you get on the plane, Spencer lays down on the couch and you can't blame him, he looks so tired and the painkillers dulled the pain, but made him exhausted.

He is out in a matter of seconds, even before the plane manages to take off. It's quite chilly on the plane and you realise Spencer doesn't even have a sweater on. So of course, you get up and softly put a blanket over him.

You know, you are in for a hell, when you see Derek's big smirk.

"What?" you frown at him.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that pretty boy is being well taken care of," he says smugly," wonder if I'd get the same treatment."

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes at him," of course, I'd take care of you, too."

"Okay, yeah. But I wouldn't receive that kind of a look with the care," he smirks again, clearly amused by your furrowed brows.

"What do you mean? What look?"

"I'm talking about you looking at Spencer like he is a literal sunshine," Derek says as it is some kind of well - known fact.

"I'm...-I'm not!" You lie, but it's such a bad lie, that even you don't believe it.

"You're the worst liar ever," he scoffs, "everybody can see, that you and Spencer like each other. Well everybody, except for you."

"Spencer doesn't like me." Nobody has to make this situation worse for you, you do it yourself.

"Are you kidding me? That boy is absolutely whipped for you. I'm surprised, that he can even function when near you," he chuckles.

"W-what?"

"It's all true, ask anyone, they'll say the same thing." You don't say anything back anymore, you think about what he said. Does Spencer really like you back? There's no way.

You overthink it for a good while, until the tiredness from the day catches up to you too and you fall asleep.

You go from the airport straight to Spencer's apartment. Obviously, he can't drive and you live not so far from him, so you drive the two of you through the empty night streets.

You don't talk much during the drive, because his eyelids keep closing every few seconds and you don't feel like breaking the comfortable silence. So you drive with the radio put on low volume, quietly humming a song to yourself.

When you finally park in his driveway, you jump out of the car and take out his travel bags out of the trunk, while he slowly gets out.

"Thank you for driving me home, you don't have to go up with me. I can take my bags, I don't want to keep you up anymore late," Spencer says and reaches out with his unharmed arm for the bag, but you put it out of his reach.

"You literally can't even put your hand up and you expect me to let you carry this heavy ass bag up the stairs?" you look with a disbelief at him, "there's no way, I'm doing that. So come on, start walking Spence, before I'll make you."

Your serious tone lifts Spencer's corners of the mouth up into a smile. You leave no space for Spencer to argue with you, because you are already walking towards his door with a tight grip on the bag.

You've been at Spencer's apartment many times before, but it always feels like being at a library or somewhere very quiet, I mean like in a good way. It gives off the vibes of comfort, peace and home. Even now, you feel slightly jealous, that your place doesn't feel like that. As you look around, Spencer flops (carefully) on his couch and sighs.

"Spence, do you have ice?" you wonder.

"Umm ice? Yeah, I think so..." He doesn't ask, why do you want to know that, too tired to care about it. Only when you emerge with a smaller pack of ice, wrapped in a dishtowel, he understands.

"Here," you cautiously put it on his hurt shoulder," you should ice it for a bit, so it reduces the pain ."

"Thank you, y/n" he says with a warm smile.

"Don't mention it-"

"No, really. Thank you for helping me today. It means a lot," Spencer does something really brave, he takes your hand into his and gives you a little squeeze. He doesn't know if it's the medicine or if he's going crazy by doing this, but he settles that he doesn't actually mind, because your hand fits perfectly into his and he doesn't feel like letting go off it ever again.

You squeeze his hand back, but before any of you can do or say something stupid, that you'd later regret, you tell him, " I don't know if you have any painkillers, so I left you some in the kitchen. If you need anything and i mean anything, even something small, call me, yeah? I'll come."

"Get some rest, Spence. I'll check up on you in the morning, goodnight." You give him one more smile, which he returns and leave.

The memory of his hand on yours invades your mind for a good while making it hard for you to even fall asleep. Spencer's only saved from this overthinking by the exhaustion and painkillers affect.

Since the morning, you think there is something off about Spencer. His eyes are glossy, he looks very pale and every now and then he shivers. You've asked him multiple times since you've arrived, if he feels okay and he's said yes everytime.

But there's just no way you believe him and by every hour that goes by you don't think, that even Spencer or anyone around believes it. He is for sure coming down with something.

Your prediction is confirmed, when Hotch walks out of his office and on his way to get coffee, he passes Spencer's desk. He instantly stops next to his desk, takes one look at Spencer and knows, he should not be working.

"Reid, go home, before you make anybody else sick, too," Hotch orders him and before Spencer can open his mouth to protest, Aaron adds," and don't come back until you don't look like you might pass out any second." He also orders Anderson to drive him home, so Spencer doesn't have any choice but to go.You give him a small smile and mouth, that he should get some rest.

For the rest of the time you are at work, you are a little bored. Your deskmate, Spencer, is always up to chat or something, but without him the clock on the wall seems to go slower. Finally, you get to leave and your first stop on the way home is pharmacy and a soup shop.

You want to make sure Spencer is okay and alive, that's what good friends do, right? They check up on you when you have a flu or not?

You quickly get to his place, before you can think too much of it. You knock ones and then second time, when Spencer opens the door, looking even worse the he had before. There's a sweat running down his face, his skin is even paler and he can barely keep his eyes open.

"Y/N?" he squints at you in confusion.

"Hi Spence. Did I wake you up? I just came to drop of these," you lift the bags in your hand higher, " i got you your favourite soup and some medicine."

"Oh, you shouldn't have worried," he groggily says, his voice sounding sick and gestures for you to come inside.

"I know, but I wanted to. I also wanted to make sure, you were alright." You reassure him as you set the bags down in his kitchen.

"How are you feeling?" you quizz, "and don't say okay."

"Bad. One minute I'm burning and the next I'm freezing. My head hurts like a hell and honestly I feel like dying," he responds and you try not to laugh at how dramatic his last 5 words are.

"Did you take any medicine?"

"Not really, I could only find some painkillers and I feel too sick to go buy anything else."

"Well, good thing I'm here then," you smile big at him," I got all sort of medicine, so we'll have you healthy in no time."

You start to set everything out of the bags on the table and as you do, you look at Spencer, who is barely even standing looking at you. "How about you go lay down, Spence and I'll bring everything to you, yeah?"

You encourage him and he knows, that that's probably the smartest idea right now. He slowly nods and goes to lay down on the couch, which you realise, he's been laying on since he got home.

You go to him after a few minutes with the medicine and a glass of water. You find him asleep, he looks so peaceful, that you almost don't have the heart to wake him up. But you have to, he needs the medicine if he wants to get better.

You gently shake him awake and it takes him a good minute to realise, that you are in front of him.

"Hi," you giggle at him, " I'm sorry I woke you up again, Spence. I got you these," you hand him the water and the pills. He obediently swallows them and drains the whole glass of water down.

"Thank you," he yawns.

"Do you also want the soup ?" you ask and he shakes his head with a no. "Okay, but you should try to eat something later, yeah? I'll go get you some more water for now."

Before you have the chance to get far away from him, he catches your arm, "Will you stay, please?"

His question catches you off guard, you think that maybe the combination of the high temperature and the medicine kicking in make him a little delirious, because you are pretty sure he wouldn't ask you to stay otherwise. It's Spencer and he doesn't like to ask for help very often. But there's only one correct answer for you.

"Of course, I'll stay." You tell him fondly and he visibly relaxes after that and closes his eyes .

By the time you are back with another glass of water and a cold compress to lower the temperature, he is sleeping again.

Thankfully, this time you don't need to wake him up, you just put the cold washcloth on his forehead and set the glass down on the coffee table. You browse his bookshelves, looking for a good book to read. You know, that Spencer won't mind one bit you borrowing his book. So you take one that catches your eye and sit comfortably in his armchair to read it.

You read for a while and when Spencer wakes up again, he is happy to listen to you about the book (which, of course, he's read multiple times and tries hard not to give you any spoilers about it) while he sluggishly eats the soup.

He is all snuggled up in his blankets and he looks so adorable, that it's making unknown feelings bubble up in your chest. It's not just now, you've been having this kind of weird and new feelings around Spencer more and more often than you'd like to admit. You know what they mean, but you don't really want to acknowledge them. So you don't. Although, in situations like this it's hard. And it's been harder since Derek pointed these feelings out.

Before you can spiral any deeper into these thoughts, you get up to cold the washcloth again.

"Are you feeling any better, Spence?" It's been a few hours you've been with him and he appears to be a bit better.

"A little, yeah. It's only thanks to you, tho" he says and good thing you aren't near him, because you blush madly at that.

"Yeah? I'm glad," you put the washcloth under a very cold water, judging by your white fingers and the loss of feeling of them, you think it's cold enough.

You go back to Spencer and to your surprise he is not yet asleep.

"Can you lay down?" you gesture to the washcloth with a chuckle, you can't really put it on his head, when he is sitting.

"Oh, yes," he slides down the couch, 'till he is laying and you put it on his head.

"Not too cold?" you ask.

"No no, it's great thank you y/n," he sighs happily, the cold is very soothing. His eyelids close right away and even though you are having a small talk about how was work today, he manages to fall asleep. Your heart swells, you haven't seen him this tired like ever. You are glad he is resting though, he has deserved the rest for quite some time now.

You notice the clock on the wall and realise how late it is. Almost an hour after midnight, so you quietly scramble to your feet and take all of your stuff to leave. Before you do, you write him a little note, telling him where everything he needs is and that he should call you in the morning. You leave it in front of him on the coffee table, but before you go home, you do one extremely bold thing. You caringly kiss him on the top of his head, it's in a way a goodbye since you can't say anything to him. And then you dissappear out of there like a ghost.

The next morning, you oversleep and on your hurry to get to work, you almost knock over a huge bouquet of flowers that is at your door. You are a bit baffled, who is it from, but when you find the card, you know it's Spencer.

He send you the flowers as a thank you for taking care of him, saying that he hasn't been taken care of like this in a while and at that moment, you realise that you can't ignore these feelings anymore. Because he is making it impossible.

It's the middle of the night, when your phone rings. You half expect it to be work, even though you are on a vacation for the week. The team has been working on a case near Quantico, so you told Hotch to call you if you were needed.

What you don't expect is the call to be from a hospital not from Hotch. In your half-asleep stage, you catch the words "Reid", "hurt", "okay" and "an emergency contact". You are up on your feet, messily throwing some clothes on you and jumping in your car, before the nurse can even hang up.

You drive to the hospital in a record time. It's a big plus, that it's the middle of the night and there are barely any cars on the road. You basically run out of the car and the nurse at the reception definitely thinks you look a bit mad. You can't blame her, youu think it too, I mean you haven't even brushed your hair or anything, so you must look like a nightmare. You ask her about Spencer and after a few seconds, she tells you where to go.

You speed-walk there and find almost the whole team there.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Penelope questions, surprised to see you there and goes to squeeze the life out of you.

"I-I got a call from the hospital. Spencer.....I-is he okay?" you queried anxiously.

"He is okay, he is quite bruised and beaten up, but he should be fine."

"What happened and where is JJ?" you puzzle, you can't see her here.

"He was following a lead on the unsub with JJ, which resulted in them chasing him in a car and unfortunately they got hit while doing so. Thankfully, both of them are okay, just some bruises and scratches, nothing too serious," Hotch explains, " JJ is already home with Will and Henry, she was farther from the impact . They wanted to keep Spencer for observation to really make sure he is alright."

It is a weight off your heart to hear those words.

"Thank god," you say as you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, "can i go see him?"

"Definitely, he's awake. We were just leaving, there's a lot of paperwork waiting for us at the Bau. See you on Monday, y/n." You say goodbye to everybody, on their way out Penelope huggs you and gives you a cheeky smile and you know what it means, because you've been given this look before. It's the exact teasing look, that Derek gave you not so long ago. You just roll your eyes at it and playfully push her towards the others.

You find Spencer trying to reach for his bag on the chair next to the bed.

"Spence, hi," you greet him warmly, it's relieving to hear that he is okay, but actually seeing him, it's like you can breath again. He looks alright, but he is definitely bruised, he has a black eye already forming and there's a few scratches on his face as well.

You quickly go hug him," I'm so happy, you're not hurt."

"Ouch," he winces, you probably squeezed some of his bruises.

"I'm sorry," you pull away with a sorry look.

"Y/N? How are you here? Did Garcia call you? I told her not to wake you up-" Spencer wanted you here with him, you make him feel better everytime, but he didn't want to bother you, especially not so late. He knew, you'd be here in a matter of seconds, if you'd heard that he got hurt.

"She didn't, the hospital did," you interrupt him.

"What?....Oh," he suddenly realises what you are talking about, he put you as one of his emergency contacts, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" you ask softly and sit on the side of his bed.

"For you having to come here in the middle of the night and f-for putting you on my emergency contact list."

"Of course I came, Spencer. And I don't mind one bit, that you put me on the list. I'm just glad, you're okay," you reassure him, because honestly he is being ridiculous, "I will always come whenever you need help, Spencer," you take his hand in yours to show you really do mean it.

"Still, I should have at least asked you."

"No need for that, I'm flattered that you put me on it."

"Yeah well, you are always here for me when I'm not well," he shyly admits, " I know I can rely on you."

"I feel the same about you," you smile at him," how are you feeling, huh?"

"Not bad, I think my face is the worst part of my injuries, the airbag is no joke," you agree with that.

"Don't worry about the bruises, you are still very much handsome," you don't know how this slips out of your mouth, but it does. Both yours and Spencer's cheeks go red.

"Ugh, c-can I go get you anything?" you quickly try to change the topic.

"Yes, even though it's literally 3 a.m. I'd kill for sandwiches right now." You chuckle and swiftly slip out of the room. You are trying not to feel too embarrassment about what you just said to Spencer and just focus on finding the sandwiches.

It's surprisingly easy to do so, because there's a hospital cafeteria opened. You buy him the sandwiches and also a bottle of water.

Spencer is also trying not to think too much out of you calling him handsome. He likes you, like a lot and he doesn't think he could survive the rejection. So he doesn't want to get his hopes up, he'd rather just stay your friend.

You stay with Spencer 'till he gets released, you don't mean to do that, but you fall asleep in the chair. So when you wake up, you just simply stay until he gets the release papers and then drive him home.

"Thank you y/n, i-i can't even begin to express how thankful I am," you've helped him so much lately. Like you literally helped him wash his hair when his shoulder got dislocated, you took care of him when he had a flu and now you came running to the hospital just to make sure he was okay. Hell even when he had a small paper cut months ago, you took care of him.

He also remembers you giving him a kiss on the top of his head, when he had the flu. He isn't sure if this memory is even real, because he might have been hallucinating from the high temperature. But he does hope it'd happened.

And everytime he thinks of these things, his heart actually skips a beat.

"You don't have to say anything, Spence. I'm here for you anytime," you smile at him, oh so sweetly, that he almost forgets his previous thoughts about rather staying just your friend.

"I'd like to repay you in some way-"

"No need-"

"But I want to. How about a coffee? Monday morning, it'll be on me. I know it's not much, but it's the least I can do," he proposes, " please?"

"Okay yeah, a coffee sounds nice," you give in. You helped Spencer because you wanted to not because he'd have to repay it. But if he insists on a coffee, who are you to say no.

"Yeah?" Spencer smiles, hopeful.

"Yeah, Monday morning at our favourite coffee shop."

"Great, I'll see you there." Too excited Spencer doesn't even realise what he's doing, when he quickly kisses your cheek and gets out of your car. Only when he starts to unlock his apartment door, he catches up. He freezes in terror because of what he just did.

You aren't acting too differently from him. You sit frozen in your car with a stupid smile on your face. You didn't mind the kiss one bit, but it made the already big feelings for him even worse.

It's save to say, that both of you didn't expect that and you think about it for the rest of the day, hell for the rest of the week.

The team should have expected it. You should have expected it. It was clear, that you resembled the unsub's type. Same hair, same eyes, same figure and around the same age as well. You didn't think too much of it. But you should have.

Or at least you should have been more careful.

You shouldn't have gone to the shop so late, when it was already dark outside and you shouldn't have gone alone. You should have asked Spencer or somebody to go with you. This stupid mistake got you kidnapped.

You are now god knows where. You are gueasing, that it's some kind of barn. But you aren't sure, there isn't too much light coming through the wooden desks, just enough to see whether it's a day or a night. And you can't exactly go look around, when your hands are zipp tied to a metal poll.

You aren't sure what time it is, the guy comes to check in on you unfrequently, so you can't even half- guess the time.

You know, you have around 2 days to live, based on what you know about the other victims. But it could be less, especially since you are the FBI.

You are more worried about your injuries, tho. Of course, he hurt you and not lightly. You've definitely lost a lot of blood. You are still bleeding pretty badly from your thigh, he stabbed you there with a sick pleased grin.

But you are not going to give him the satisfaction of breaking you down, never. You are just waiting for the right moment. You think you have enough energy left in you to break out of the zip tie and try to get far enough from him. So you wait until it gets dark outside again, even monsters can't stay up all the time.

The team on the other hand is nonstop looking for you. Spencer was the one who discovered you were missing and since then he hasn't even had one thought about anything else other than finding you.

Hotch's ordered everybody an hour long break, but Spencer doesn't want or need a break, he needs to find you.

"Spencer, come on we're taking a break," Derek says, him and Spencer are alone in the room, everyone else went to the local policy's cafeteria already.

"No, thanks. I'm fine to continue," Spencer says shortly.

"Don't be stupid, you need to-"

"What I need is to find y/n." Spencer cuts him off, raising his voice a little.

"Look Spencer, i understand. I want to find her as much as you do, but we won't be able to do that, if we can't even think clearly from the exhaustion," Derek tells him calmly, he knows how much Spencer cares about you, like more than a friend, so he gets his frustration.

"No, you don't understand," he argues," I-I can't loose her, I can't. We'd tried this before and she- I can't.....not.....-not again," he quaveres, putting his head into his hands. He'd gone through this situation once before and he's not doing the same mistake again. Especially with you, with you it feels somehow even worse.

"You won't," Derek insists, " listen to me Soencer. We will find and we will save her and when we do that, you will finally tell her how you feel."

"Now get up, we're getting some food into you and then we save y/n," he doesn't really give him a choice this time and pushes him towards the door. Spencer goes, but his mind is on you and the case the entire time.

It's much later, when the team has a breathrough in the case and Penelope works her magic, and finds a man that fits the unsub's description perfectly. It takes the team only a few seconds, before they are in the car, driving quickly through the night roads to get to you.

You patiently endure the hours 'till it gets dark outside. And when it does and you are sure, he's not coming back anymore, you yank your hands hard. You do it multiple times, hands bleeding and you get it snapped.

You waste no time from there, you get up on your legs, which appears to be much harder than you thought. You probably underestimated how much blood you've lost, because with every step you take you feel like passing out. But you push through it, you open the door, look around and when you think, that everything is clear, you take off.

You, unfortunately, don't get too far. A set of headlights appears in your vision, so you hide behind the first decent thing you see. You are still quiet close to the barn. You don't know if it's the unsub or somebody else, but you take no chances with whoever it is. You stay hidden and quickly look for something to protect yourself with, you find a big enough rock and decide, that it's good improvisation for a weapon.

You close your eyes, trying to will the dizziness away and in the meanwhile you completely miss, that it's actually 2 cars and not one.

What gets you to open your eyes again is a sound of gunshots and a lot of shouting. You think, you hear a familiar voices, but you stay hidden, not wanting to risk anything.

"Did you find her?" Hotch asks. Him, Spencer and Rossi searched the house and everybody else the barn.

"She's not there, " Derek replies.

"What? She has to be here, she has to" Spencer says desperately. He can't have gotten this far, just to not find you.

"But we found a broken zip tie and a pretty large puddle of blood," Derek sighs. Everybody's worry increases after hearing that.

"Yeah, it looks fresh, if it's y/n's she can't be far," JJ adds.

"Wait, you said, there's a big puddle of blood. How can we even know she's alive?" Spencer says upset. He isn't far from losing his mind.

"Spencer-"

"No, i-i.... how can we fucking find her here? This property is like 15,5 hectares. And we can't even know if he has done anything to her, because he's dead. We could be searching whole night and she will bleed out by then, well if she is even still alive. So how? How?!" Spencer knows, that it's nobody's fault, but his frustration is getting the best of him.

"We'll get the dogs, they will find her quickly-" All this intense arguing makes you curious, so you start to listen closely. At first, you think, that it's the guy talking, but the more you listen, you realise it's not him. You know that voice, it's your Spencer, it's your team. They are here, they have found you.

"Spence?" It's so quiet that Spencer almost misses it, but he's so alert right now, that he couldn't miss it even if he'd tried.

His head immediately snaps in your direction and he swears, he could cry, when he sees you there.

You call out his name again, this time in such a relief, but taking 2 steps towards him, you collapse. The blood loss finally got to you. You see Spencer sprint to you, with the team on his heels and then everything goes black.

You end up unconscious in the hospital for 2 days. You've lost too much blood and when the doctor started to name all your injuries, Spencer actually had to walk out of the room before he could have gotten sick.

He's stayed with you almost all 2 days, except when JJ kicked him out, saying he needs a shower and some sleep. But besides that, he's stayed by your side the whole time. He read you books, fluffed your pillows, just did everything he could to make sure you were comfortable.

He's sitting next to your bed, reading, when you wake up. Spencer notices you waking up, because his hand is holding yours and he feels it move.

"Hey hey hey, " he greets you softly as you open your eyes.

You blink, baffled at him and try to sit up. He carefully pushes you back, which you protest against, "wha-"

"Don't move sweetheart, yeah?" he pushes a few fallen strands away from your eyes and adds,"I'm going to get a doctor, I'll be right back, I promise." And with that he's gone.

He comes back after the doctor does all of the checks to make sure you are okay. He sits in the chair again and unconsciously takes your hand in his again as he tells you everything that happened.

You give him a small smile and with a raspy voice, you tell him," Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving me, i-i knew, you'd come," there wasn't a single moment, where you thought he wouldn't.

"You don't even know how worried I was. I-I thought, I had lost you," he fretted.

"I'm sorry," you apologise sadly, you stupid mistake, made everyone so worried.

"None of that, it's not your fault. I'm just happy you're okay, we all are. I called Penelope, they are on their way here," Spencer states and then there's a silence between you two. But by looking at Spencer, you know he wants to say something else, he's got a look, that you know well. It's the look he has, when he wants to tell you about something interesting, but doesn't want to bore you with his rambling.

"What is it?"

"Nothing..." it's definitely not nothing.

"Come on, spill it," you chuckle, but his serious face makes your smile drop, "what? Did something bad happen?"

"I-I-I just....-fuck, this is harder then i thought it would be" he mumbles. "I love you, y/n. I've been in love with you since the day you looked my way and it only got worse and worse with every smile or a laugh or a conversation or when you took care of me," Spencer blurts all this out.

"I cannot keep this secret any longer, because it's killing. It's killing me that I can't call you mine and that-that I can't protect you all the time, because I want to. So badly."

" i knkw this a lot, especially now. But you don't have to say anything. I totally understand if the feelings aren't mutual-"

"-Spencer,"you interrupt him, but he doesn't seem to realise it.

"I just had to tell you this, because I'd never forgive myself if I hadn't told you. I'm sor-"

"Spencer!" You cut him off, this time more louder. He looks at you like a lost puppy, just waiting for whatever words of rejection, you'll tell him.

But those words never come," just kiss me already," you huff (affectionately).

He's never wanted anything else more, but he doesn't want to hurt you, " i want to, i really want to, but your injuries.....I don't want to hurt you."

"Spence, just kiss me," you are embarrassingly close to begging at this point, but Spencer fortunately doesn't let that happen.

He very very cautiously leans in and kisses you. And you eagerly kiss him back and not so tentatively pull him closer to you. Your whole body feels like it's on fire, but you ignore it, there's only one thing on your mind and that's how nice it finally feels to be kissed by Spencer and how soft his lips are.

You pull apart after a few seconds and there's this stupid grin on both of your faces.

"Does this mean you also-"

"Oh god, Spence," you laugh at him," of course, I'm in love with you. How could I not be? You're so smart, so kind, so honest, so mindful and so caring. It's honestly impossible not to fall for you."

"Oh, good," he bashfully replies, " otherwise this would have been awkward," he jokes.

"You're such an idiot, come here," you pull him by his sweater for another kiss, happy to finally be able to do that.

Hi lovelies, thank you so much for reading. Please let me know whst you think. Feedback is always up.

Have a great day 🌻

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid

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akutasoda · 5 months

Text

don't say anything else just stay

genshin ver part 2 [part 1 here]

synopsis - after a heated argument, maybe a resolve is found in a comfortable embrace

includes - diluc, xiao, kazuha, tighnari, freminet, dottore

warnings - gn!reader, angst to comfort/mild comfort, arguing, some characters are kind of scummy, maybe ooc for some, dottore, minor alcohol mention, wc - 2k

a/n: kept thinking about this and finally after ages i wrote it!

diluc ragnvindr ★↷

diluc, on the outside, was seen as the rather perfect lover. someone you could easily take home to parents and they would be so impressed, someone who is a classic romantic always aiming to sweep you off your feet.

and while he could be like that sometimes, some rare moments that only and very few knew off made you scoff at any comments about how perfect of a lover he must be. afterall, arguments always tore holes in relationships if not dealt with properly.

normally diluc was attentive and was very good with arguments. you two normally wouldn't worry about them. but sometimes his work life balanced suffered and he brought home all anger he held and unleashed it on you.

this was when problems arised as you both knew he shouldn't do that to you. so when the argument reached a rather harsh point you took the situation into your own hands and left dawn winery. you would return to your residence until diluc calmed down and would properly talk to you.

he stewed in his anger for much longer than he preferred and when he started to calm down he went looking for you. he assumed you would still be in the manor, just elsewhere. but he couldn't find you. and his heart absolutely sunk when adeline informed him you had left ages ago.

he cursed himself for being so reckless and he no longer cared about anything else and knew he had to try and sort things out - hoping you would give him such an opportunity.

when you saw diluc on your doorstep you still had half a mind to ignore him but you knew that would get you nowhere and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss him. and as soon as you opened the door you could see the noticeable lift in his eyes upon seeing you again.

the silence was quickly swamped with diluc's profuse apologies and regrets. and while he was rambling away you found yourself compelled to crawl into his arms. and so you did. and as soon as you hugged him, and he hugged back immediately shutting up. he basked in the moment as told himself he would never do something like this again as he would be dammed that he should ever lose you.

adeptus xiao ★↷

anyone that ever knew the adepti would know he never understood feelings. in fact one could take a guess from looks alone and assume that he struggles with emotional intelligence. and going into a relationship you were well aware of this and thought you would never mind.

and for the most part you didn't. because after the first major argument you two had he quickly learned that if he wanted to keep what you two had he would have to try and learn. try and learn human emotions. which he very quickly did, while he didn't express them he became surprisingly good at reading yours in particular.

but that didn't mean petty arguments still arose. petty arguments that sometimes would push you over the edge. as sometimes it felt as if you were the only one fighting for this relationship.

sometimes seeing xiao arrive home with scratches and such worried you. while you knew that it was minor and probably did nothing - it did make your mind over exaggerate other scenarios. and when you expressed your concerns, he would brush you off.

and eventually he started arguing back, saying harsh comments that he didn't mean but that didn't stop him from saying them. you were rather shocked it got to this so you left. and the minute you disappeared from his line of vision he panicked.

he realised his mistakes. and he knew he would have to own up to them. he was rarely used to people truly caring for him and when they did he lost them. and so he immediately set out to find you and when he did you were still fuming but to him, atleast you were safe.

he tried to apologize but he struggled deeply to find the right words to express how he truly felt. but seeing him try made you calm down - you knew he was trying his hardest. and you calmed down enough to head back with him and try talk it over properly again.

kaedehara kazuha ★↷

arguments were a rare occurrence with kazuha. he was very rational when it came to it but also did try and avoid getting to the point of an argument with you. but he knew some where unavoidable and that's why he would want to solve them as quick as possible.

most arguments did stem from mistakes. more commonly kazuha being swayed into drinking quite a bit with beidou. now she ment no harm by getting him to enjoy himself with the crew, but in that state he did start saying things he never meant.

so when you were trying to get him to bed as everyone else on the crux had retired for that night, he proved to be rather difficult. so much so that he started hurling insults your way. you knew he meant nothing by it but it still hurt.

and eventually you needed a minute or two to yourself. a few minutes turned into a couple of hours as you decided maybe he needed some space and eventually you drifted to sleep in the spare room on the crux that beidou originally gave you.

waking up the next morning, kazuha had a rather annoying headache but immediately noticed you weren't beside him. and then everything came flooding back to him and guilt consumed him whole. stepping out his room he realised how early it actually was so decided to look for you as silently as possible.

and when he found you in the spare room the guilt seemed to increase. he didn't want to wake you but he wanted to apologize. so he settled for sliding into bed next to you before apologizing even if you couldn't hear as he wrapped his arms around you. this way when you woke, he could sort it out with you.

tighnari ★↷

some may call tighnari stubborn and in retaliation he would just say he was dedicated to his work. and both of those were true. you were well aware that his work often stressed him out and he became very stubborn. and rightfully you didn't like it when he brought it home.

especially after you had a difficult day. wanting to see your boyfriend after a long day just to find him taking his anger out on you for a simple question. you only asked him a simple 'how was your day?' and it seemed as though he hated you.

and so you started retaliating his behaviour in the same way. forming a rather difficult argument. so much so that tighnari said a particularly harsh comment before storming out of your shared residence. you practically scoffed before deciding you had enough and wanted just to go to bed.

tighnari hardly got far before the argument registered in his mind. his ears flattening against his head as he felt regret. but another issue was that he wasn't that great with emotions, so he silently feared that he would make it worse should he do the right thing and turn back to apologize.

but he knew that should he let it last, it would only break the relationship more. so he turned and headed back to apologize. and when he arrived he caught you heading to bed. but it appeared you had no intentions on sleeping with him. and this made his ears and tail sink even further.

and before he knew it apology after apology spilt from his lips. you stared at him and you could feel him pull at your heart strings but you knew should he not learn, this would be a recurring problem. so you gave him a hug and returned to the couch. and he understood.

you two would talk it over in the morning but tighnari barely slept as your missing presence really disturbed his sleep. so much so that in the middle of the night he managed to settle next to you on the couch and almost immediately fell asleep.

freminet ★↷

to many people, they knew freminet was rarely expressive. and even from a distance it didn't take much to figure out that he struggled to express emotions. you knew this going into the relationship and you knew you would have to be patient with him.

but seemingly because of your relationship, he did make an effort to try and get better at expressing emotions. after all communication in different ways is very important. so he knew that this would be a weak point in the relationship but so did you.

and you always told him that he didn't have to try and learn as you couls help him figure it out along the way. but that being said, arguments were very rare. and when they occured they were very different to other arguments.

whenever an argument happened they were always ovee small insignificant reasons. and each time freminet went into this isolated state. he blocked out everything around him and ignored you, secretly hoping the issue went away but this time all it achieved was you going away.

you couldn't help but feel slightly bad for leaving so abruptly but you truly did need time to calm down. and if anything him ignoring you was worse than him arguing back. but freminet had panicked when you left and immediately wanted to find you and apologize.

and you barely heard him until you felt his arms wrap around your midsection as he apologized. and you knew how hard he was trying so you awkwardly shuffled in his grip to return the embrace. you two stayed like taht a little while longer as then you two could properly talk it over.

dottore ★↷

dottore was quite honestly far from being the perfect lover. and to many from the outside they would fear for the people daring enough to be in a relationship with him. but you knew differently. sure he had a very different way of showing affection but maybe you preferred it that way.

and he was a rather rational man - more so when it came to you. so arguments were rare and often dealt with swiftly. but for all the knowledge he had he was very inexperienced in emotional intelligence. so often could be stubborn or dissmissive of your feelings.

a common argument for you two was his work. not so much the fatui part, but the fact that he would most of the time choose to spend all his time in the lab for days on end without speaking to you. rightfully, this made you mad and for a while his segments did dampen this.

but you wanted to see your actual lover not his clones. and eventually he kept needing more and more in the lab. so you decided that if he wasn't going to acknowledge you, you weren't going to acknowledge him. so from the minute you next saw him, you ignored him.

he had little time for your antics. his experiment didn't go anywhere near how he wanted it to go and he did want to see you but now you were ignoring him. ao his already thin patience ram thinner and he eventually made the snide comment about your so called 'childish' behaviour. and eventually an argument ensued.

you had enough of him and left. atleast his segments had more emotional sense than he did. and it was one if the older segments that convinced him to apologize to you. so when he saught you out and found you he immediately dissmissed any segments you found company with.

you still ignored him up until you heard him apologize. you had half a mind to tease him but you knew how hard he struggled with stuff like this so you let him continue. he rambled on and on about how he promised he wouldn't do it again and how sorry he was. and eventually, very reluctantly, he opened his arms as if asking for a hug.

and you felt compelled to agree. you stayed in his embrace as he made his final promise. he soon came to realise actually how much you meant to him and you better believe him that he would do anything to keep you happy with him.

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cannibalbuffe · 2 months

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hi! I've honestly been craving some qpr headcanons with Alastor as someone who's also aroace! The concept piques my curiosity so much considering most of the stuff with him is purely romantic (no offense to those writers, I just wanna see more qpr stuff! :])

Of course! But do forgive me, annon, I got so carried away with this 😅. I just really like Alastor a lot.

I ended up writing some backstory to your relationship first, but I highlighted the start of the proper qpr headcanons if you feel like skipping that.

Obligatory I'm sorry if this is ooc, I'm still getting used to writing about these characters. This is also all based on my own perception of him.

(Also, I am aware that qprs are very different from one another and there is no single mold for a qpr, I'm just going off of what I think it would be like with Alastor.)

Uhh, I also finished this at 1 AM, so forgive any mistakes. And I'm pretty sure I changed the verb conjugations(? Is this how you say that in English?) from present to past at some point. Sorry. Enough with the A/Ns now. Hope you enjoy!

Alastor queerplatonic relationship headcanons

(gender neutral reader, Alastor x reader)

‼️Trigger-warning‼️: mentions of cannibalism (not graphic), a single mention of tongue-kissing and making out (spoiler: he doesn't want either of those things in this work.) Usage of the word queer, but not as a slur. Alastor is a grandpa and you have to explain LGBTQ+ stuff to him, but he gets it.

› At first, before you were close, it's likely that he didn't see you as an equal.

› Truly, in his eyes, it seems not really is his equal. He is the most powerful overlord in hell and he knows it.

› Unless you are someone he holds in high regard (and this is mostly based on vibes, barely anything to do with power, as we can see by how he is with Lucifer of all people) before your first meeting, like Zestial, you won't be on equal footing at first.

› You only really start getting close when his perception of you shifts.

› You respect his boundaries, you are interesting, you and him share quite a few interests (or not really, but you're at least interested in hearing about his), and you're, surprisingly, pretty wise and mature.

› And caring. I personally believe he would be drawn to that in a way that he may not even understand fully- or realize it at all.

› Still, the point is. He respects you, and you respect him.

› (And not in the way some others do, where they're only "respectful" out of fear. You would act like this regardless of his power.)

› This, by the way, is important. You don't treat him like a superior, but as an equal.

› You'd think someone like him would love to be treated like a superior, and it's true. He very much does.

› But he has to admit to himself that it does feel nice whenever someone isn't shaking in their boots and can hold really good conversations with him while still not being pushy, annoying or just generally disrespectful.

› Anyways.

› Ever since you became friends (which took long), one could say, you just kept becoming closer and closer.

› You were the first one to be vulnerable with him, of course. It happened on accident, but you trusted him enough for that.

› You were also the first one to share any more intimate information with him. Something you wouldn't tell just anyone.

› Between this, your conversations, and maybe even helping each other around (honestly, he probably helps you more than you do him, but you always offer it and always in a sweet way, never condescending, and he appreciates that.)

› He eventually felt more comfortable sharing personal things with you too.

› (He may have distanced himself a bit when he realized this, but it was short-lived. You can't be without each other for so long, and you were pretty upset at his suddenly withdrawal. You may not have mentioned it to him, but he could tell, and as much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to see you sad because of him.)

› This marks the beginning of the path toward your queerplatonic relationship.

› I mean, you didn't initially label it as such, but it definitely started there.

› Surprisingly, I feel like the first one to ever do any sort of affectionate gesture towards the other was him.

› You knew he didn't like to be touched, so you didn't.

› But! He just started getting more and more comfortable with touching you. At first it was hands on your shoulders, or putting his arm over them.

› I can even see a head pat or two, which he probably passed off as some sort of joke the first few times, but, if you liked them so much, just became a thing he does to you.

› And then one day you, completely absent-mindedly, intertwined your arm with his while walking around.

› When you noticed you had done it and he hadn't said anything, you questioned him about it.

› "Alastor, I'm sorry I didn't ask... is this alright?"

› "This?... Oh, you mean the arms? Ah, dear, don't worry, if it weren't I would have simply told you so!"

› From them on you only got more and more physically affectionate with each other. At first you would usually be the one to start it, but eventually you were both shockingly equal in doing so.

› (You still would always ask if you could touch him beforehand, but after a while he just gave you a free-pass.)

› Not a lot in public, though. Mostly just hand holding, or intertwining arms (if in public, that is.)

› Alastor also was so protective of you. You were the person he treasured most, after all.

› Well, demon.

› Even if you told him you were going to be okay, he would watch out nonetheless. He couldn't afford to lose you, not when he's never trusted and cared for a person this much.

› You two also cuddle a lot. You were the first one to ask, as usual, but now both of you feel weird sleeping alone.

› Alastor loves being the big spoon, if you're doing that.

› But he is also quite fond of occasionally being the little spoon, although he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.

› A hobby you two do together is cooking. Cooking with Alastor is fun... especially if you're okay with cannibalism.

› But if you don't like that, he won't insist, of course.

› He's pretty good at cooking, though! If you're also good at it, then great. If not, he'll tease you about it (in a friendly way), but still teach you.

› On teasing, he teases you quite a bit, but never in a mean way. If you don't mind, of course.

› You also may tease him occasionally, but he doesn't appreciate you teasing him in public.

› The two of you also have a good amount of inside jokes that probably confuse the hell out of the others.

› Kissing... well. I don't really see Alastor as the type who would enjoy kissing on the lips too much.

› Tongue is out of question for him, as well as any sort of making out, but otherwise... if you like it, he can do that for you.

› He might actually like a peck or two. An acquired taste for him. Don't overdo it, though.

› Of course, him being from the 1930s and not very familiar with anything LGBTQ+ related, he would, at first, be somewhat confused by the request.

› You would probably have to explain to him that nothing is inherently romantic, especially not if you don't want it to be.

› "A kiss on the lips? Well... we aren't courting, Y/n."

› "We can put our own meanings to things, though. Would you like this kiss to be romantic?"

› "Definitely not!"

› "Well, me neither. So it's not!"

› "... That is very sound logic! I can't believe I've never thought of this myself."

› Kisses on the rest of the face are something else, though. He does enjoy it whenever you kiss him on the cheek. He himself might occasionally kiss you on the forehead.

› But overall I don't think he's big on kissing.

› If you want to really solidify that you're in a queerplatonic relationship you'd also have to explain what that means to him, sorry.

› Again, he's old and not up to date with things.

› Thankfully he understands things easily.

› "I see... I suppose we do have quite the queer relationship, don't we? And it is certainly platonic. I don't see why not!"

› Going back to vulnerability. It will never feel fully natural for him to just be vulnerable with you — or anyone else, for the matter.

› (In case you couldn't tell, he's using the word queer as meaning odd (and doing a little pun. You know. Because it's a. Queerplatonic relationship. Queer. Hehehehe), as it defies the norm of what a platonic relationship usually looks like, despite being one.)

› But you know him well enough at this point to recognize whenever there's something going on with him.

› And if you show concern and give him enough time he will share whatever it is with you.

› If it's not anything too big he might even reach out to you first.

› He can also read you like a book and gives surprisingly good advice, and is also pretty good at comforting you.

› You are the only person allowed at his studio while he's live on the radio. You usually read as he speaks in the background, his voice is very relaxing. He enjoys having you around.

› He's also particularly gentlemanly to you, more than to the others. When you're with him you never have to open a single door yourself, for one. If it's raining, he'll hold the umbrella for the two of you. When walking together on the sidewalk, he's always on the side closest to the street instead of you.

› You two often go out for dinner. If you also fancy some cannibalism, he will definitely show you his favorite restaurants around. If not he will just pick the best non-cannibal places (but you know those are not his favorites, haha.)

› He just cares about you a lot, even if it took him long to admit (it may have seemed fast-paced during this, but Alastor is someone who really takes long to get close to.)

› And you care about him lot too!

› (And you're probably never going to be in a life-threatening situation again, at least not at the hands of most demons. Who would ever want trouble with Alastor?)

#alastor x reader #platonic alastor x reader #queerplatonic alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #headcanons #buffet tag

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tocomplainfriend · 3 months

Text

SEE!? THEY DON'T CARE!

TW: Rape, SA, Homophobia, Misogyny, Misandry

The specific censored word with "-", it's for my own reasons and comfort. It's not censored up and in tags due to filtering! Sorry if I made mistakes like forgetting of filtering or similar, I haven't used tumblr much before!

THIS IS A R-PE JOKE! THAT'S WHAT I HAVE BEEN FUCKING SAYING! ONE OF MY BIGGEST PROBLEMS WITH EPISODE 4 IS THE FACT OF "we want to write an empowering story about men getting sexually assaulted. Men victim don't get that attentio-" BITCH, YOU MADE MANY R-PE AND SA JOKES ALL THE FUCKING WAY THROUGH HELLUVA AND KNOW HAZBIN! You are the one making fun of scenarios where your male characters get assaulted or r-ped.

HOW TF DO YOU PRETEND TO BE SOOO ABOVE PEOPLE (INCLUDING VICTIMS OF SA AND R-PE) THAT'S EXPRESSED HOW THEY FELT ON THE EXECUTIONS AND WHO WORKED IN EPISODE 4. WHEN YOU YOURSELF MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT????? For some context, Sir Pent is trying to get with Cherri, but always deflects first in case she rejects him. He offers her a drink, but immediately says it's because he'll buy a drink for everyone on the club. Then he asks Cherri if they can have sex- and deflects back (a repetition joke) "Because I'll have sex with everyone here". Then he gets dragged into a room by other people, yelling wait and no! And the door closes as you heard him scream.

Out of context in the screenshot, you might even think it might be a serious scene where something happens to Pentious. BUT NO! IT'S BRUSHED OVER REAL FAST AND PLAYED AS "HAHA SOMETHING BAD HAPPEN TO SIR PENTIOUS AGAIN LMAOO"- it's the punchline.

Then at the end of the episode he gets out asking "Where is Cherri" (who btw is having sex with a random guy).

And please don't say "Well, he asked for it"- you know how you sound. The whole point of the joke is that he is trying to get with Cherri and failing astronomically. The point here is that he really doesn't want to have sex with a bunch of random people, but he has to do it because he is getting dragged into a room. (Again, Pentious is like Moxxie Their joke it's getting trashed and bullied by the world or people around them).

You made a whole episode about dealing with a male character's sexual assault, abuse or r-pe. Saying how much you respect victims, and your episode, it's just perfect about the topic. BlaBlaBla- no, you don't. You made all this jokes since HB season 1. This new joke was episode 6 of HH. You never acknowledge power dynamics, or coercion. You never acknowledge anything bad in your show.

Remember, as much as this shows go for LGBTQ+ representation and Queer media. As a ""Female lead show"". This jokes link back (not only to making fun of SA and R-pe itself, but to) homophobia and Misogyny. A scenario of where a man gets SA'ed or r-ped by another man or woman- leads to a scenario where the character is made fun of for not being "masculine enough" for being a victim or for not being able to defend themselves. In a scenario where this happens by a man to man, "It's funny because the victim is viewed as gay. As less masculine = gay and that's bad cause gay = weak and feminine and the idea of feminine = weak".

(There are a few jokes here and there, like Blitzo touching Moxxie's dick after making fun of him for having a baby penis.)

If you didn't notice, Moxxie gets attacked by multiple succubus, and that's apparently funny. KEEP IN MIND is not basic physical violence-no he comes out with lipstick kisses marks, the sounds effects are (ugh)... and Blitz tells him "Don't let them access any of your holes". In other concepts, I want to point out that the times when Moxxie is viewed as a bottom or feminine- he is made fun of. When Millie pegs him, he is made fun of because he is the man of the relationship, being implied as the bottom. When he wears the outfit of unhappy campers, he is extra objectified or made fun of even more than in any other episodes. He is also forcefully put on a dress in his wedding.

He is made fun of for being SA'ed for being uncomfortable scenarios:

These aren't jokes made by characters that "are bad because they are from hell". These are scripted jokes written by a person searching for the audience to laugh.

AND the reason why many audiences accept this jokes or even find them funny is because of some of these views (internalized or not) above. You'll also notice how all these jokes are directed at men (if you find an R-pe or SA joke directed at a woman in this two show, say something about it! POINT IT OUT!). People accept and write these jokes more because they care less about the idea of a man being a victim of such situation. More often than not- in the present, a woman getting assaulted or anything similar in any media gets noticed and called out. THESE JOKES OR THE NORMALIZATION OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT, ASSAULT, COERCION, OR SIMILAR TOWARDS WOMAN STILL HAPPENS!!!! There is an idea that men just tend to just want sex all times at any time. -And that a man getting SA'ed or r-ped by a woman it's just sex, cause "Why wouldn't you like free pussy". When it's a gay perpetrator is viewed as funny cause "that makes you gay or a woman" and that's apparently hilarious. Men can be r-ped no matter what. Men can be targets of all of these acts.

Remember that all the scenes of sexual abuse, harassment and r-pe in Poison are directed by the R2. Who, once again, is into r-pe porn- and they themselves said they are not an SA victim either. So remember, not even a victim trying to cope with their own R-pe or SA. This person draws and ships "R-pe ships", and tags it as "naughty men uwu" bullshit. Also, a person so obsessed with the character of Angel that they changed their name to Tony (Angel's real human name), make themselves look like him, and become a sex worker like Angel. They themselves looked at a comic of Val threatening r-pe and abuse on Angel as "thank good you have balls to draw something mean with these too, I was so bored" ???? (this stuff is in:) and cosplay and take photos of your Val x Angel ship

Congrats if you as a victim yourself thought that the scene with Angel was good. If it helped you be and feel seen. But remember the rest of the show, the hypocritical writers, don't care enough to view it as a serious topic to not joke about. Both HB and HH written by the same people (as in Vivziepop), take their sweet time to turn these topics into jokes.

What pisses off more, it's the trying to make yourself be viewed as a sensitive person about such topic. Make it seem like you are a savior for writing about it in such "serious, powerful and not sugar coded" way. But then you drop that on the fucking ground to make a joke about it when you are tired of pretending you are so good. If you were so informed of SA and r-pe, you wouldn't be making these jokes. If you knew how much SA male victims struggle to get viewed as serious or their stories taken into account-you wouldn't be this shitty.

God, you are so proud of the joke too.

My poor snake guy... one of the few characters that I like-

#vivziepop critique #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #anti vivziepop #tw sa #cw abuse #spindlehorse criticism #tw rape

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neechees · 1 year

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How is the cult from Midsommer white supremacist? Because they are swedish and borrow from paganism? The nazis appropriated Norse culture, they even misused different runes and symbols, and Scandinavia is one of the most tolerant regions in Europe.

There's Nazi imagery throughout the film, & the fact that all the poc die first is no mistake. Ari Aster himself has said that the Harga are White Supremacists:

Defying an outdated horror trope, Aster does not kill off Josh (William Jackson Harper) — the only black character for miles — first. As Aster points out, though, the Hårga are racist, a callback to “a part of Swedish history and European history,” and all of the “outsiders” or “new blood” recruited for mating are purposely white.

“He’s thrown away in a way that the other members of the main cast are not," Aster notes. “And that is because these people have no further use for him.”

The Harga, when not inbreeding with each other, go out and groom new members to either 1. Be sacrified or 2. Introduce new genes by manipulating people into the cult or drugging & raping them (what they did to Dani & Christian), & they ONLY pick white people for this. There are no nonwhite Harga & that's not an accident.

The script also makes it crystal clear that the nonwhite couple were specifically chosen (bc they are not white) & brought there to be sacrificed & were never going to live. The member that brought the nonwhite couple displays hatred & malice towards them when they're not looking, but doesn't do this with the other white outsiders

(Ingemar is the Harga that brought Connie & Simon, the nonwhite couple). Connie & Simon didn't do anything wrong, they didn't do anything outright to insult the Harga. The only thing they did was be shocked about seeing the ritual suicide & express desire to leave (and they weren't the only ones who did this, Dani also did). And yet they were some of the first to die.

Even the visuals-- the Harga wear all White, it's always in blinding daylight. Whiteness is a GLARING theme. There's also foreshadowing early on in the film, where a book titled "The secret Nazi language of the Uthark" featured in Christian's room just before they go to Sweden.

There's also other Nazi ideology present within the Harga, such as the strict gender roles (the women all wear dresses & cook & clean & care for the children together but the men butcher the bear together), eugenics & ableism (the elderly are killed off at a certain age because they see disability & needing to be cared for as an elder "shameful", which is what one Harga states at the ritual suicide scene, & of course killing off the nonwhite characters), the "return to tradition" ideology (there are NO modern technology in the community, & it's in the countryside).

You see a cult full of ONLY White people, using Norse paganism (something VERY popular with Nazis) in an isolated area, who routinely murder poc, don't intermix with poc, kill off their elderly, Dani (the blonde, light eyed white girl) is praised for her beauty & made their May queen by the Harga, with strict gender roles, & this film was made by a JEWISH MAN to show the Harga as the bad guys, & you don't have a hunch that the Harga are maybe supposed to be white supremacists/nazis? That doesn't raise any red flags for you?

& let's not forget how Scandanavia committed genocide against the Saami, the Indigenous population who were there for hundreds of years before anyone else. That's a little off topic, but as a First Nations Canadian I aint gunna let that just go unacknowledged. Scandanavia has a white supremacy problem too, & Ari Aster is right for pointing it out

#I've talked to other poc about this film & me & other ppl snuffed out that this movie would be about a nazi cult just from the trailer #nazi tw #being Scandanavian & being into paganism doesn't make you a white supremacist no.#but the film makes it obvious through the other clues that that's not what's going on here #anonymous #rape mention #cult tw #nazism tw

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jals-stuff · 1 month

Text

a routine.

Orter Madl x f!reader

Obnoxious, sour, call him whatever you want, Orter Mádl couldn't care less about what people thought of him. You can’t help but wonder if that’s what you find attractive, or if you just have a thing for authoritative, serious-looking jerks (because I do).

Warnings: slight angst? orter is a jerk, hurt (just a bit) with comfort, reader being too nice.

Word count: 3.4k words

Note: again with no sleep, sorry for any spelling mistakes, don't stone me to death. thought about making a part 2 for this, no clue yet let me know what y'all think. (i swear i have never simped for a man that hard before)

definitions at the end, but it doesn't matter if you don't read them so no worries! enjoy-

Indeed, Orter was a man who would sweat for the status quo to be protected. If this man had his name on an alignment chart, the creators would have to make up something like “lawful lawful”. That is how lawful Orter Mádl gets. It didn’t matter to him how people perceived him, or whispered to each other whenever they saw him walk through the large corridors of the Bureau of Magic. Few things mattered to him in fact, but if he had to put them into a list, it would look like this:

Making sure rules and order are respected

Staying undisturbed during working hours (and out of working hours, too)

Not doing anything unnecessary.

He had a very specific routine he followed almost perfectly everyday, and so far, nothing had pushed him to change it. No one had, either, because from an ordinary person’s point of view, Orter was nothing else than a sour workaholic, strict, obnoxious man. Most women (and some men as well) who worked at the Bureau always seemed to look to the ground when crossing his path, while the other ones were too busy gossiping about him being a potential serial killer, since he was “so calm and quiet”. But one (wo)man’s trash is another (wo)man’s treasure and surely enough, you were one hell of a hungry raccoon lady.

You had been working at the Bureau for almost a year now, and since the very first time your eyes had landed on him, you knew he was the one you wanted. And since that day, you were one of the only people who even dared speak to him— if you don’t count the other Divine Visionaries as people (because Kaldo’s… obsession¹ with honey made him a creature, and not a human being, we have to be honest here).

You’d always greet Orter when meeting him in the morning, or wish him to have a nice break time when he’d actually allow himself to take a break, and he would simply greet you back, always giving you the same confused look. Simply seeing him illuminated your days and kept you going through your seemingly unending workload. Yet, as much as you enjoyed these small interactions, the same couldn’t be said about him.

Orter didn’t dislike these despite the way he looked down at you everytime you greeted him. He simply wasn’t used to such… fervour² from any of his other colleagues. You were certainly very passionate, and he had to put in a lot of effort not to just immediately send you away whenever you’d bring him coffee when you had free time or simply try to chat a little when you were to give him a report.

It wasn’t against you or anything specifically, but Orter was a firm believer that saving energy was the move. After all, why bother doing anything that is unnecessary?

Even if it, indeed, was nothing personal, you were pretty much everything he disliked. Noisy, talkative, full of energy, sPEED, and quite naive as well. The embodiment of a child who has been given too much sugar and is now experiencing the zoomies.

And so, like an uninvited grain of sand in his eye, you slithered your way into his daily routine. Each morning, before entering his office, he knew he would encounter you at this specific time of the morning shift, by turning this corner. It happens everyday, and it will happen again today. He knows you get your break at 10:05 am and usually will knock on his office door at exactly 10:11 am to bring him your reports as well as some coffee you grabbed for him.

He knows that in the afternoon, usually between 3:48 pm and 4 pm, you’ll find an excuse— any excuse to bring him some pastries, or any kind of snack with another cup of coffee, but this time a bit more sugary.

He has gotten used to it now, but he still cannot quite understand why you’re spending so much energy on him, and when Orter doesn’t understand something, he gets frustrated. He does not often interact with anyone, and so the fact that people around him might have feelings is completely unbeknownst to him, or so it seems.

...

It’s approximately 4pm on that day and, as usual, you knock on his door. He looks up from his paperwork and just mutters to come in, knowing damn well it’s you. But this time, you’re not bringing any coffee or snacks. You just hand him a report you had written, as usual, and he notes that you look a little nervous.

You patiently wait for him to read through your carefully written report. He gives a nod, not even a word, as usual, and this time, instead of immediately leaving, you decide to speak up.

“Umm..” you start, and you start wondering whether this is a good idea or not. He’s looking at you now, in all of his cold, emotionless expression. “So… would you maybe… like to have your coffee break with me this time…?” you ask, looking away a little bit.

He leans against his chair’s backrest at the suggestion. He could definitely use a break and some coffee right now, but he isn’t sure if he can take the amount of energy you’ll be talking with for the whole duration of your time together.

“With you?” He asks, and you’re unsure if he means this in a mocking way, or if he’s just asking. You shyly nod and he adjusts the position of his glasses a little bit. “I could use a break,” he starts “but I’m not sure I can handle more of your… eagerness to converse³.”

It hurts quite a lot; you knew Orter had always been blunt, but to hear it from his mouth was something else. Were you really bothering him that much? Maybe he didn’t mean it in a bad way? After all, he did have a lot of work, and of course he’d like to free his mind a little bit and enjoy peaceful silence with his afternoon coffee. He quickly takes note of your nervous squirming and your lack of response.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he finally says after what seemed like an eternity “I don’t want this headache to get any worse.”

A headache. Was this really all you were to him?

“I.. can stay quiet if you’d like me to, but I would really like to have—”

“No, thank you. I’ll have coffee on my own. ” He cuts you off, looking back to his paperwork, probably very oblivious to the fact that he just hurt you deeply. “I don’t understand why you’re so eager to interact with me when all I’m really asking for is to be undisturbed.” Was it personal, or was it because of his lack of human interaction? Well, both meant the same to you, if you really were the only person he interacted with, it was directly against you.

You didn’t know what to say. You wouldn’t give up on him, of course, but your entire personality had just proven to be a nuisance to him, and you weren’t sure how you’d recover from this one. You had been standing for a minute, looking at the ground in front of his desk, before his authoritative voice you loved so much pulled you out of your overthinking.

“Anything else?”

You shake your head ‘no’ and promptly exit his office now. It sounded clear to you that you were a disturbance to him, and it was the complete opposite of what you wanted to be. But again, no matter how bad his rejection felt, you decided you’d be a little more like he wished you’d be: invisible, silent.

You made a mental note to change your behaviour around him and stop being so clingy and noisy all the time, then maybe, if you destroyed this personality of yours he seemed to loathe, maybe he would look at you. Even just once.

...

Orter arrives at the Bureau the next day as usual, and already knows you’ll be just around the corner where he meets you everyday. He gives a sigh and walks around… to find no one. He blinks a few times in surprise, but simply assumes you’ll be somewhere else, ready to greet him…. But there’s no sign of you. Or rather there is one, but it’s only the usual morning coffee you give him, and it’s sitting on his desk inside his office. You, on the other hand, aren’t here.

“Probably a different schedule today.” he thinks and quickly dismisses it to sit at his desk and remove his coat. He takes a few sips of the warm coffee and sighs before diving into his unending paperwork again.

As expected, there is a knock on his door at 10:11 am. He lets you come in and is pleased to see you’re still bringing him some coffee, along with your usual report. You quietly greet him and hand him the papers as you put the tall coffee cup on his desk, and await his review. Again, he gives you a nod and puts the papers back into his drawer, and as he looks up from his paperwork again to listen to your usual morning talk, he’s surprised to see you leave his office without a word.

“Probably has more work today.” he thinks, dismissing the change in your behaviour as the man sinks into his paperwork once more. You, on the other side, are only hoping your efforts aren’t vain. You’ve practised staying silent for a bit and you think you’re nailing it, honestly. All for the sake of the obnoxious, lawful man.

It doesn’t occur to him even once that you might be in emotional pain from his words; he isn’t well versed with other people’s feelings— and probably not his own either. You probably have more work today, and that’s why you’re not as talkative as usual. Or maybe you’re tired. Are you sick?

He stops himself for a second and takes off his glasses to rub his eyes a little; no. No, no. It shouldn’t matter to him whether you are ill or simply tired. He has too much work to do to care about one of his coworkers.

Roughly around 3:50 pm, you knock on his door again, bringing in the usual pastries and sweet coffee. Now, he’s wondering which excuse you found to visit him as he crosses his hands on his desk and looks at you intently.

His eyes on you start to feel uncomfortable. It’s like he’s tearing your soul open and trying to figure out what’s going on in this little skull of yours⁴, and really, it isn’t just an impression. He was expecting you to ask him out again, or talk about the weather, complain about your workload, but none of these words escape your mouth. A simple, polite “have a good afternoon”, and you’re gone immediately.

Your schedule must really be something else for you to quit pestering him about your state of mind like you used to do. But again, he takes a bite of the delicious pastries you brought him, and keeps working in religious silence as he occasionally takes a sip of the sweet coffee you delivered.

Time flies fast, and it’s already evening. You clock out, as one does, and as you walk away from your office, you encounter Orter, who seems to be clocking out at the same time. And this is when the overthinking kicks in. Is he going to think you waited for him? Will he believe it was a mere coincidence? What if he thinks you’re being clingy and annoying for clocking out at the same time?

But your thoughts come to an end as he simply walks away without a word; maybe he just doesn’t care. Right, maybe he just doesn’t care. It probably didn't matter whether you were quiet or talkative, hyper or calm. He probably didn’t care.

...

The next morning, you arrive earlier at the Bureau, as you did yesterday, and fulfil your morning routine: getting a few snacks for yourself, and a tall coffee for Orter. But unfortunately, the cafeteria is a bit more crowded than usual, and you end up exiting it at the same time you usually did.

He encounters you again at the very same corner, and he is now convinced you simply had a rough schedule yesterday, but as he was about to greet you, you simply hand him the coffee and walk away towards your office without a word.

The day goes on like the previous one; you barely exchange any words with him, and he makes no effort to change this. You’re quiet, reserved now, and you just internally pray that he will like you more. This isn’t you, but you will be whoever he wants you to be, if there’s the slightest chance that he will look at you.

What you were completely clueless about was how this little change of yours was affecting him. At first he didn’t think much of it, but he had gotten used to your nonstop talking, to your cheerful voice when you greeted him, and to the very specific hours you’d come to visit him and ask him out or talk about everything and nothing.

Orter was going nuts. The routine he had gotten used to was crumbling for reasons unknown, and he couldn’t understand why, it was beyond his power. The grain of sand in his eye⁵ had become an entire desert, and the frustration was great enough that he could barely focus on his work anymore. Something was missing. He needed to figure it out quickly.

His focus was long gone, and all he could think about was why the usual, cheerful girl who always greeted him with a smile and warm coffee had become so… dull and painfully normal. Had you been sick the whole time? Why did he even care in the first place?

But as much as he disliked admitting it, he had grown quite fond of your behaviour, even though his words had proven to oppose this fact. He needed to make sure of what was lacking in his daily routine now. You were still here, you still brought him coffee everyday, did your job correctly… What could be missing?

His mind was a complete mess and he could not get you out of his head for some reason, which made him even more annoyed. You were such a headache and a nuisance, right? He couldn’t possibly be going insane from the lack of… you?

As usual, at 10:11 am sharp, you visit his office with your daily report and his coffee. This time though, he doesn’t take the papers from your hands and just crosses his legs, looking straight into your eyes. “I would like you to read it out loud for me.”

Read it out? You ask yourself, why couldn’t he read it himself? But again, we are talking about Orter Mádl; this man could tell you to get on all fours and bark, and you would gladly do it without giving it a second thought.

“...right.” You started, a little confused at his sudden request. “The Bureau’s investigation on Magol Castle…”

Your words grew distant to him, but not your voice. He wasn’t listening, he was listening. He felt himself oddly soothed at your tone, for once, as he kept trying to find this missing piece of the jigsaw. But it was as if his focus had returned and he could finally get back to work. As soon as you stopped talking, he extended a hand for you to give him the reports, and you did.

“Good, very good. I’ll read it again later.”

You stood in awe for a second; Orter had just praised you. Your efforts were working, and now you just had to keep going and stay quiet most of the time. You gave a polite nod and walked away from his desk.

“Wait.”

That was it. You were the missing piece. But it made no sense, since you hadn't left, you were still here with him at the very moment... but then why did it feel like you weren't?

You turn around as you hear him speak and you just stand there, waiting for him to keep going. The silence is heavy and it seems like an eternity before he finally speaks up again.

“You’ve been… quiet.” He remarks, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t tell whether he meant this in a good or a bad way. Of course, his expressions always suggested that everything he said was to be taken in a bad way, but you knew better than to assume anything, especially about Orter Mádl. “Why?” he asks, and there’s an undertone of desperation in his voice. He sounds like he’s at his wit’s end.

At this point, you can’t really do anything else than speak up and tell the truth, can you? So you take a few steps towards his desk and nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“I… do not wish to be a nuisance or give you a headache.” You simply reply, in all of your honesty, and he looks at you, clueless and distraught now. Was that the reason why you had been silent the entire time? Were you driving him completely crazy because of what he said to you?

He buries his face in his hands and sighs. His glasses were slightly falling from his nose now that his hands were rubbing it entirely. You walk around his desk and gently push his glasses back in place, his state worrying you a little bit. You had never seen him being affected by anything before, so you were a bit confused.

“Are you alright..?” You quietly asked, not daring to touch him too much, lest he’d find you clingy, but the man sighed loudly once again and cleared his throat, his hands crossing against his desk again.

“You are driving me insane, (Y/N).”

You’ve never heard him speak your name before, and it felt… rather nice. You couldn’t tell if his words were meant to be good or bad though, so you only stood next to him and waited for him to speak up again. An uninvited feeling of guilt made its way to your heart and you couldn’t help but feel like all of this was your fault. You only wanted him to look at you, to make his life a little easier… but instead, you had somehow wrecked it.

After what seemed like an eternity, Orter was still dead silent, and you had to do something.

“I… I’m sorry…” you mutter quietly, not fully sure of what you did, but feeling the urge to apologise anyway. His state was more than concerning and you were the cause for it. “I… meant no harm, with whatever I did to you…”

And then something hits him. A feeling he’s probably rarely felt before: guilt. He looks up at you, and you clearly look like you’re holding back your tears as you shamefully look away from him. It takes all of his energy not to get angry— but at himself this time. He was the one who caused this situation, not you.

“It wasn’t your fault, only mine.” He sighed as he took off his glasses and started wiping them to distract himself from your sad expression that was awakening a myriad of new feelings within him. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I… did get quite used to your company. Please, feel free to speak as much as you want.”

He looks up at you, and despite the fact that he still isn’t smiling, his eyes are softer now, his expression is gentler and his voice has lost its authority. He is just asking you to speak to him. It isn’t even an order, he is actually pleading.

You can’t help this slight blush from creeping up to your cheeks as you try to regain your composure. You had gotten praised by Orter today, and he even pleaded with you and apologised? It was clearly your lucky day, so you thought you might as well try your luck. You cleared your throat a little.

“A-hem… so… maybe you… would like to have coffee with me this time?” You ask, timidly.

Orter merely chuckles, still not letting his face sport the ghost of a smile. He simply pushes his glasses up to his nose and stands up, pulling his coat back to his shoulders.

“I would love to.”

¹: this man will cover his sashimi in honey and proclaim it’s still edible.

²: read → insistence.

³: nonstop yapping.

⁴: empty, hollow. Not a single thought behind those eyes— or so he thinks.

⁵: you, sorry.

#orter madl #orter mádl #orter x reader #mashle orter #madl orter #orter madl x reader #mashle x reader #mashle x you #orter madl x you #mashle orter madl #orter mádl x reader #mádl orter #mádl orter x reader

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