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#I'll continue to keep vague a few things
reginrokkr · 1 month
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𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. Birth of a thought made manifest in human flesh —Dáinsleif's origins—.
◜The Winged One's regret or remorse gave birth to a thought, and as he imagined the path that could have been taken, a new soul was born.◞
As a result of the war waged against the Second Who Came, Nibelung and the ensuing chaos with the leaking Forbidden Knowledge that had to be subdued lest the world was plunged into darkness, thus left with no chances for survival, Phanes' functions were ruined and could no longer use their absolute authority to suppress the original order of this world. In combination with his severely wounded state, the Usurper glimpsed into the wrongs of his deeds and the ones bound to come after if he were to be deteriorated further due to the influence of the Forbidden Knowledge, the loathing and resentments of the world or other forces that could take advantage of his weakened state.
He who loved his human creations more than anyone, and He who cursed the gods to come after to love humans saw himself mired in hypocrisy the moment his creations were at disadvantage the most and were kept in the highest regard no longer due to his own decisions' and that of his closest circle, who should follow his will. Thus in a moment of weakness and lucidity, his regret gave birth to a thought— to a what if. What if things were different, what if his initial desire continued without struggling against the vicissitudes and personal agendas, what if he was stronger to not let himself be corrupted to this point of apparent no return.
What if he could undo everything that made his sacred plans evil.
From these last thoughts was Dáinsleif born as a soul, nurtured in a seed in Irminsul's benevolent aura out of its kindness and will for the world to cease fighting against its own natural orders and to diminish the loathing and resentments of the world that the Primordial One has caused. One day of the countless moons this seed basked under the moonlight and Irminsul's might, he was born in the material world in Celestia as a human, a manifestation of the origins never known by others of Phanes' closest circle until divine's eyes fell upon him. Unrest was among them, yet only muted at the knowledge that they could do with him as they pleased. So repeating the cycle of a once heiress of Celestia that failed in her task to retrieve the Pearl of Genesis and believed herself to be the queen of the kingdom of darkness, Dáinsleif was sent there with the intent to erase his memories of any ties he could have to Celestia.
Thus he would have no connection with the divine, nor his actions would suppose betrayal to any— for it is them who betrayed them first, abandoned him to his fortune. Unbeknownst to them, he who they abandoned would be the one to silence the source of all sins in the deepest abyss and undo the wrongs that began with the greatest Usurper, as well as reweaving all threads of fate.
It would all begin in Khaenri'ah, where Dáinsleif has drifted with a mission he recalls no more, and where he would mature his views of the world, limited at the time as they may be. His love for humanity and pursuit to defend them limitless as the Primordial Sea from where all life is born, even if his personal beliefs about the laws set in the kingdom and its deeds may differ drastically from what it would be expected of anyone who arrives to the kingdom established along the roots of Irminsul.
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hello-kuni · 1 year
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𝐃𝚬𝚨𝐃 𝚶𝐅 𝚴𝚰𝐆𝐇𝚻
syn: when you're sleeping and they need you and how they remedy that situation
ft. diluc, itto, thoma, kaeya
cw: 18+ mdni, f!reader, somnophilic elements, dubcon-ish, m masturbation, f receiving oral, dry humping, thigh fucking
a/n: welcome to my genshin debut (bear with me pls i'm getting out of my slump)
❁ diluc
it's late in the night when he creeps into the bedroom. you're already fast asleep and unaware of his late arrival. he keeps the light off to change, unwilling to disturb you. as he crawls into bed beside you, he notices the covers have slipped down your body, knowing goosebumps are rising on your skin in the chilly room. he catches a glimpse of your figure as he reaches to cover you, nothing more than a shadow in the dark.
"archons," he whispers, feeling himself harden at the sight. he hadn't realized just how...frustrated he is until that moment. the last thing he wants is to wake when he knows he can stave off his desires for the time being. so that's exactly what he does.
conjuring an image of you, he lays back against his pillow and lets his hand wrap around his cock. his strokes are quick and uncaring. something about touching himself to the thought of you feels wrong to him and he'd rather not draw it out for too long. not to mention his body his heavy with sleep.
he's getting close to his release, unaware of the fact he's quietly moaning your name as he's imagining that it's your pussy squeezing him instead of his own hand. he hadn't noticed you stirring beside him, awoken by the gentle sound of you name in the beloved timber of his voice. but he's well aware that you're now awake when you wrap your hand over his, effectively stopping his strokes moments before he cums.
heat creeps up his neck at being caught. your hand trails lower as you whisper, "even at times like this, i'm yours to have."
he lets out a shaky breath, but his conviction is solid. "i'll never disturb you for a need i can satiate on my own. not like that."
the mere implication of your words was enough to shake any hint of sleep from him, now fully awake and present. the thought of doing something such as that would never cross his mind.
you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, sultry eyes peering up at him. "then come to bed earlier and let me take care of you."
now that was something he could work with. he brings his lips to your own and mumbles in agreement. after this exchange he's prepared to call it a night, his earlier frustration a fading memory, when you disappear under the sheets. and at the warmth that envelopes him, sleep becomes a distant thought.
❁ itto
fours rounds before bed apparently still wasn't enough for itto. he awoke a few hours after falling asleep, hard from a dream where you were--no, no he can't think about it. if he thinks about it his problem won't go away. but not thinking about it isn't helping either.
he resolves to ignore the ache and go back to sleep, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling you in close with his face tucked into your hair. but all that does is rub your ass against his already sensitive cock and now he's greedy for more. he shudders at the feeling, breath catching in his throat. he tries to resist, he really does, but he's weak when it comes to you.
the next movement is accidental, he tells himself. he's just trying to get comfortable. but that little taste is all he needs to be rutting against your ass. it's not the rough thrusts from earlier in the night, but something sloppy and vaguely desperate. all the while, he's still cautious, unwanting to wake you.
guilt is distant feeling creeping closer as he continues to drag the length of his cock against you. but that all dissolves when he feels your gentle hand on the back of his neck. he sucks in a breath, uncaring of the hair in his mouth.
"is this okay?" he asks, voice a rough whisper. "tell me it's okay."
at times like this, it's like his personality does a complete shift. it sends a heat through you and you just want to hear more of it. you don't have the energy for another round, were barely able to keep up earlier, but this--this is fine. your reply comes out a mumble, "it's okay."
the arms wrapped around your waist tighten and his speed quickens, chasing what he's craved since his interrupted dream of you. he doesn't stop until his cum is coating your back.
❁ thoma
the sun still has a bit of a journey before the first rays begin to peak over the horizon. yet thoma is regretfully awake to begin the day's duties. which wouldn't be so bad any other day, but today he awoke with an ache. he feels only a little guilty as he trails kisses down your naked body--the memory of that little fact doing nothing to help his case--scattering them across your thighs and gently coaxing you from sleep.
as he nestles between your thighs, you begin to stir, a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips as your hips wiggle at the first lick of his tongue. your hands gravitate to his hair, urging him on from those teasing kitten licks. he's quick to get the hint. he groans into you as his tongue delves between your slick folds.
in moments like this, even when he’s desperate to alleviate the growing ache, he prioritizes your pleasure over his. always. it's no fun for him if you're not enjoying it. but being buried between your legs is as enjoyable for him as it is for you. his mouth works you like a man who’s forgotten the last time he’s had a meal. it’s sloppy, yet not without thought behind each movement. his tongue licks long, languid stripes up through your folds, flicking across your sensitive clit. his mouth closes over the aching bud to suck and slurp. every lewd sound he makes mixes with the ones he’s drawing out of you.
he would have stayed there a lot longer if you weren't pulling on his hair. he crawls up your body, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. when he gets to your face he gives you a sleepy grin, and says simply, "good morning."
"a very good morning," you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and one leg hooking around his back to pull him closer.
his gaze drifts to the window where he can see just enough of the sky to decide he can spare a few more minutes with you before he gets ready for the day. the slight roll of his hips against you is all you need to understand his plan.
❁ kaeya
archons above, he really can't stand those little shorts of yours. it's gotten to the point they haunt him in his dreams. nightmares, really. the slight peak of your ass is always taunting him in wake and sleep. not to mention the way they hug you so perfectly, sculpting you ass and framing your thighs, his eyes can't help but stare as you walk by him. it doesn't help that he knows you're wearing them right now.
it's no secret to you that he has a rather strong fixation on your ass and thighs. it's those thighs he wants to feel right now, highlighted by those little sleep shorts. he has a long day ahead of him, he should be sleeping, but the only thing on his mind is you.
there's little shame as he reaches down between your bodies and frees his cock from its confines, one hand holding onto your hip. a shiver crawls down every nerve of his spine as he slips his cock between your plush thighs, the warmth enveloping him like a sinful hug. he bites back a moan, swallowing it as it wells up in his throat. chewing on his lower lip, he rolls his hips once.
and it's enough to shatter whatever self-control he has left.
a strangled moan leaves his lips and there's nothing he can do to stop it. his thrusts pick up pace, racing him towards his climax he's desperately sought since crawling into bedside you and feeling the expanse of the bare skin of your legs. he's so close, so close--
"kaeya." your voice cuts through the room, thick with sleep. his hips stutter but don't stop.
"couldn't help myself," he groans. "not when you're dressed like this."
you hummed in response, hand covering his as his thrusts pick up pace again. warm breath fans across your neck. it's not long until he's painting your thighs. and soon after rolling you on your back to lay between your legs.
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beansandsprouts · 3 months
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Sunshine (Part 2)
Part 1
Summary: Bucky interacts with you here and there and finds himself feeling more connected to you. Driving him to want to see your soulmate mark even more.
Warnings: none
Sorry it took so long! College and work got me dying lmao. Updates will continue to be kinda spaced out. Fingers crossed I can get another one out over the weekend.
Also I am absolutely delighted by how much interest there's been in this! Thank you all sm for reading. Down below with the tags there's a link to a little survey, even if you're already on the tag list please fill it out. It's how I'll be keeping track of the tag list. If you don't fill it out you won't be tagged.
He hadn't been able to sleep that night.
You were right across the hall. Two doors separated you from him. And it drove him crazy knowing that you, his possible soulmate, were so close yet just out of reach.
He had dozed in and out of consciousness through the night, but found himself wide awake when he heard shuffling coming from your room. Super soldier hearing meant he heard you get out of bed and pad to your closet. What were you doing?
He heard your door shut quietly, and you make your way down the hall, and, after a few moments, the ding of the elevator door.
His mind raced, wondering what you could be doing. The next thing he knew he was tugging on a hoodie over his tank top and sweats over his boxers. He padded down the hall to the elevator, the little number above lit up saying the elevator was stopped at the floor right underneath him. The training room.
That made sense. From the way you'd spoken about your time in the military yesterday, you were highly trained and a huge asset, you likely had gotten up this early to train for years. He stood there for a moment, debating on going down as well.
The thought that maybe he'd get to see your soulmate mark was enough to have him going back to his room to get his shoes, water bottle, and towel. He wanted to make sure he looked like he was actually down there to train.
Hey, maybe he'd even get to spar with you, get to see what you were capable of.
The elevator moved only one floor, but it felt like it was taking forever. The doors opened to the small lobby and he pushed open the doors to the training room. You were doing some stretches, warming yourself up, and you looked up when he entered.
"Mornin!"
He mumbled the greeting back, now suddenly extremely nervous and starting to wonder why exactly he thought this would be a good idea.
"Didn't think I'd catch anyone this early." You seemed unbothered, warm smile despite the fact that it was so early you could still see the stars in the dark sky if you looked out the window.
He grunted in response, not being able to find the words to respond. He stood there for a moment, watching you, before walking off to start his own warmup. Which consisted of lifting more weight than you could even dream of getting even an inch over your chest. But it was light work for him.
You continued stretching but subtly watched him. You were a little disappointed he was wearing a hoodie, it did kind of obscure everything. Though you could imagine how good his muscles looked lifting that weight. Your face warmed a bit at the thought and you tried to force yourself to focus on the light burn in your calves as you stretched.
After a bit, you moved to wrap your hands and feet, wanting to practice on one of the dozen punching bags Tony had in there. He'd offhandedly mentioned he had to design a lot of the equipment himself so they could withstand the beating of the two super soldiers living in this place.
You focused on the swaying bag in front of you, vaguely aware of Bucky doing things behind you, but not paying him too much mind. Your mind was on getting out that pent up energy. Working with the Avengers was going to be very different from your previous work, and you knew there'd be a lot less for you to do on the daily. You had a feeling you'd probably be spending a lot of time in here.
You barely registered Bucky saying your name from behind you. When it did you paused your beating on the punching bag and turned to him.
"Whats up?"
"Spar?"
"Huh?"
Bucky gestured to the mat meant for sparring a little ways away. It was a little padding so whoever got dropped on their ass only hurt their pride.
"Oh! Yeah, sure." You grinned, you had to admit the idea was exciting. You were curious to see how you'd fare against one of these two.
The two of you settled into stances on the mat and you gave him a teasing grin, "I'm not gonna go easy on you."
You saw the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement as he raised a brow.
"Oh?"
"I don't have to be as worried about breaking you."
His eyes lit with curiosity, just what exactly were you capable of.
He watched you closely as you circled each other before lunging, swinging his non-metal arm at you. You blocked the hit easily and returned it with a swing of your own, which landed. His head snapped to the side as your fist connected with his jaw.
He took a step back, rubbing where you'd hit him. He hadn't expected you to hit that hard. Hell, Steve was one of the few people who's hits actually made his body ache. You packed some heat he was not expecting.
He squared up again and the two of you traded some blows back and forth before he realized you were barely flinching at the hits he landed. So he decided to turn it up a notch, striking harder than he had before. You reciprocated that.
As the two of you sparred, his eyes narrowed, and Bucky's focus turned to seeing how far he could push you. His blows struck hard, one particular hit to your abdomen forced the air from your lungs, and you stepped back gasping.
He pushed forward, though, and despite the lack of air, you fended him off well. To anyone watching, it would seem like a friendly sparring match had turned malicious. However, both yours and Bucky's eyes were lit with delight at the fact that you'd found an equal opponent.
You finally decided to end the session with a swift attack to knock him to the ground and taking the opportunity to pin him, his arm twisted behind his back.
"I surrender." He chuckled. You released him quickly and offered a hand to help him up, which he took.
"Youre...tougher than I expected."
You tilted your head, "Did Tony not tell you?"
"Tell me what?" He asked.
"I'm also a weird military experiment. Except they aimed more for stealth than brute strength with me, still gave me that enhanced strength though." You explained as you used your towel to dab the sweat from your neck.
"You haven't been particularly stealthy."
You laughed, "Haven't been trying. Tell you what, turn off the light and see if you can find me in the dark."
Bucky's eyes scanned you curiously before walking over and flicking off the lights. When he turned back, he tried to peer through the darkness to find you. He even tried to listen for your breathing and heartbeat, but the room was dead silent.
It was unnerving as he stepped further into the room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He slowly turned in a circle, hoping to spot you.
He thought he'd spotted you in a corner of the room until he felt a kick to the back of his knees, knocking him down. Suddenly, there was a hand gently resting around his throat and two fingertips pressed against his head in a mock figure of a gun.
"Surprise." You giggled and released him and went over to turn on the lights as Bucky stood up in a daze.
"How?" He demanded.
"My special serum gave me the ability to slow my heart and breath rate to the point where it's imperceptible, even to you. And I can move lightly so you can't even hear me walk. I can see in the dark, and all other senses are enhanced. Plus, the whole strength and pain tolerance thing. Literally, you just stealthy."
Bucky stared at you as you explained. He slowly realized you weren't really an equal. In fact, you were probably "better" than him in a sense. You had the ability to be completely imperceptible, even to him. You'd just proven you could have killed him easily, and he wouldn't have even seen it coming. It half scared him, and half had his heart racing with attraction.
"You ok?" You asked. He'd been staring at you silently for a good few seconds.
"I've just never met someone who could take me down like that."
"We're good though right?" Your expression had changed to one of nervousness.
"Why wouldn't we be?"
"Some men have a tendency to feel threatened or emasculated."
He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.
"Don't gotta worry about that here."
"Good." You smiled softly at him before it turned into a mischievous grin, "Wanna see who can squat the most weight?"
His mouth quirked up in a half smile as he followed you. The next two hours consisted of you challenging him to see who could handle more. Endurance wise, you did better. However, in terms of raw strength, he did better than you.
Bucky found himself feeling amused, you were so different from him and Steve. They had a tendency to be a bit more reserved. Quieter. But you were bubbly and all over the place, all smiles and energy. It was strange knowing that you'd come from the military.
After a while, the two of you headed upstairs to eat breakfast. By then, most of the others were already awake and were surprised to see Bucky willingly hanging out with you.
It was amusing in a sense. You were like a living ray of sunshine, and Bucky was like a living storm cloud. Polar opposites. However right about now Bucky didn't seem to be as "rainy" as he usually was. The look on his face was more relaxed, and he nodded attentively as you spoke. He was genuinely interested in whatever you were saying.
The second you excused yourself for a shower, the teasing began.
"Seems Bucky has taken an interest in our new teammate." Natasha said slyly.
Bucky shot her a glare and busied himself with a cup of coffee.
"Can you blame him? She's a cute little thing." Sam chuckled.
"I heard she's a great warrior. That makes her even more attractive." Thor said from his seat.
Bucky gritted his teeth and sat down on the couch by Steve with his cup of coffee. He didn't want to tell them exactly why he was so interested. He knew if he did they'd want to get involved and it would just ruin everything.
So for now, he'd deal with the teasing and hope it wouldn't be long until he found out if it was his name marked on your arm.
He stared down into his mug, ignoring the joking going on around him. He barely knew you, and yet he was practically praying that you were his soulmate. That the name he had on his arm was written in your writing. That the name on your arm was his written in his messy chicken scratch.
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c0eu4 · 5 months
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OP81 | Giving birth ☁︎
Summary: Oscar does his best after Y/n gives birth.
Warning: Y/n pregnant, y/n giving birth, a bit of fluff
A/N: I want him so bad to have babies with Lily 😔 not my fav but I wanted to do something for introducing Olivia's birth.
MASTERLIST requests are open
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She squeezes his hand as if her life depended on it. He continues to whisper words of encouragement to her, stroking her hair, damp from all the sweat.
''You're doing so great !'' His hand is white from how she squeezed it, her voice broken from her cries of pain.
''One final push!'' Tell the nurse, encouraging her to continue. Y/n begins to despair. She no longer has any strength and her whole body hurts. She shakes her head.
''I can't! I can't.'' She cries, as she tries to keep pushing her daughter out of her.
''No! Don't say that y/n! She's almost there! Keep pushing my love! You're so strong!'' She squeezes Oscar's hand one last time with all her strength and pushes like she never thought she would have to do.
Then after that, everything becomes blurry. She vaguely hears her daughter's first cries, Oscar speaking to her once again.
Her whole body hurts and she has trouble thinking clearly, tears ravaging her face. She hears her daughter's cries getting closer, she sees the nurse place her on her breasts, the little hands of the newborn clinging to her skin.
Instinctively, she rocked her gently in her arms, feeling Oscar place a kiss on her forehead. She hears Oscar crying next to her while he touches his daughter, who has stopped crying and looks at them with wide eyes. The same hazelnut eyes like her father. Those hazel eyes that made y/n fall in love with Oscar.
He kisses her cheek again, the same nurse who helped her give birth to her daughter asking her name.
''Oliva.'' Is the only thing she managed to say, too full of emotions. She is so happy that she forgets about the pain throughout her body.
After a few minutes of admiring Olivia and releasing all the stress they had accumulated, Oscar is forced to take Olivia in his arms to give her her first bath.
Meanwhile, the nurse comes back to prescribe a little more painkillers and check that everything is in order.
🏎️_ _ _ _ _
After less than a week in the maternity ward, Olivia is finally able to return home with her parents. Oscar drives his two princesses home, watching over Olivia through the rearview mirror every minute. Y/n is next to him, half asleep. Even though the nurses were there to help and support her after Olivia's birth, she was still terribly exhausted.
Once home, Olivia is hypnotized by all the new stuff she discovers. She quickly cried, the thing she has done the past few days. Her mother takes her in her arms, rocking her tenderly. Both new parents go to Olivia's news bedroom.
''Do you think she's hungry?'' Oscar asked her, not knowing what to do. ''You want me to prepare her a bottle of milk?'' He does his best to be there for his princess.
Y/n sit on the rock chair that Nicole gave her. ''I'll try to breastfeed her.'' Oscar looked at her, a bit stunned. She had already told him that she was afraid of doing that. And when they were in the maternity ward, she only did it two or maybe three times. But he let her do it. She does what she wants.
''You want me to leave? For more privacy?'' Maybe she's ashamed to do it? Oscar is afraid of making her uncomfortable. ''No it's ok. You can stay. It's not like you've never seen my breasts.''She chuckles, but baby Olivia doesn't have the same opinion and starts crying again, demanding something to eat.
Oscar sits on one of the many chairs available in the room and watches y/n do it. Her large t-shirt allows her to easily take her breast out through the collar and Olivia doesn't wait any longer to nibble her mother's nipple. At first, Y/n makes a bit of a strange face. It's normal actually, she's in a little pain because she's not used to it. And the feeling is horribly weird.
Oscar admires them, stars in his eyes. How beautiful are his two princesses.
Olivia finishes drinking and quickly finds herself asleep in her mother's arms. Oscar gets up and picks Olivia up, placing her in her crib. Y/n gives him a hug, placing her head on his shoulder. They both watch their little baby sleep peacefully for the first time in her crib.
After a few minutes, Y/n goes away. Oscar follows her, his hand rests on her lower back. He slowly closed the door behind him, already watching his daughter sleep through the baby monitor.
''I'm going to take a shower.'' She kisses the corner of his lips, already heading towards their room. ''Can I join you?'' She looks at him, hesitant. ''Uhm.. what if Olivia cry?'' Oscar doesn't insist, finding her explanation logical.
He goes back downstairs while she is already starting to undress in the bathroom. She doesn't take the time to look in the mirror, not wanting to see horror right away.
In the shower, she soaps herself without looking where she puts her hands, too afraid. She prefers to keep her eyes closed.
She wraps the towel around her chest and gets out of the tub. Once in front of the mirror, she can no longer avoid herself. She has to face it. She takes a deep breath and unties the knot holding the towel, placing it on the sink.
She wants to cry.
How did she go from a woman worthy of a Victoria Secret fashion show to such a...fat woman? Well.. fat is a big word. That's how she sees herself. But actually, it's just the beauty of a pregnant woman. Her breasts are no longer firm, they are sagging. She kept some of the belly that she had accumulated when Olivia was still inside her. She has stretch marks all over her hips, on her stomach and her thighs.
She can't hold it back and cry softly, disgust with herself.
She's so busy crying that she can't hide her tears when Oscar comes into the room. He always had the habit of entering the bathroom without warning her. She does it too. It's not like they've never seen each other naked. But this time, she wished they had gotten into the habit of knocking before entering the bathroom.
He comes in without saying anything, gets closer to her. She doesn't move away, looking at him through the mirror. He places his hands on her hips, caressing them tenderly. His head rests on hers and he watches her body through the mirror.
''It's hard, isn't it?'' She cries even more, hiding her face with her hand. He takes her in his arms and she crying against his shoulder.
''I hate myself. I was so beautiful before, so stunning.. and here I am now. Fat with scars everywhere on my body.''
''Listen to me, Y/n. This is a very difficult period for you, your body is still adapting to your pregnancy.'' He kisses your head. ''You're still the sexiest and hottest woman for me.'' He makes her chuckle against his shoulder.
''Now get dressed while I take a shower and wait for me in bed, ok?''
She nodded, putting on her pyjama and heading outside the room.
She wrapped herself in the bed, her eyes already heavy. She barely remembers Oscar joining her and warping his arms around her before she falls asleep.
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yumeka-sxf · 7 months
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My thoughts on Spy x Family: EYES ONLY Guidebook (English ver) - part 3
Continuing from my previous two posts, this will be my last post discussing the English version of the SxF manga guidebook "EYES ONLY." I'll discuss some of Endo's and Lin's comments on specific chapters, some of the included concept art for the series, all the Twiyor tidbits the book has to offer, and conclude with a couple things the English version of the book omits.
Endo's and Lin's comments on specific chapters
There's at least one comment from Endo and/or Lin on every chapter of the manga from when the book was originally published (up to chapter 61). Unfortunately I can't cover every single comment, but I did want to highlight a few (more will be covered in the Twiyor tidbits later on).
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So Bond wouldn't have actually died from Yor's cooking then? Good to know her cooking isn't that bad, lol. Also that's a good question, Lin, maybe you should ask Endo? 😅
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Lots of great info about the cruise arc. Makes sense that they had to plan it out many months in advance and keep revising it to patch up plot holes. All that work definitely paid off! Interesting that they almost considered not having Loid on the ship at all. Glad they didn't because otherwise we wouldn't have gotten one of his best outfits! 🤣 (can't wait to see this piece of work in color in the anime!)
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Incidentally, the scene Endo mentions where he "managed to make Yor look pretty cute" is this one (she does look pretty cute here).
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My favorite comment of Endo's about any chapter has to be this one for chapter 56. Never change, Endo 😂
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And lastly, some good comments about chapter 59 (Becky visits the Forgers).
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This is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters so I'm glad it was well received. Funny how they kept going with the joke instead of ending it "normally"...but when you have such great characters and setups, good comedy writes itself!
Below is Endo's commentary about Henderson, not a specific chapter, but thought I'd point it out since he mentions Henderson is the only character he's done a shower scene for...not anymore!
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Also, while not related to a specific chapter, I do like what Endo says below about Loid and Yor's "dark sides."
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He enjoys drawing them this way, which is cool, but he's also cautious about not overdoing it and saving those expressions for important situations.
Concept art
Most of the pre-serialization character designs included in this book were also in the exhibition pamphlet, which I already discussed thoroughly here (wish I had remembered these were in the fanbook so I wouldn't have put so much effort into trying to read Endo's scribble notes). So I'll just mention a few of the most notable things.
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As I discussed in my post about the pamphlet, Franky was at some point intended to be the uncle of the family. Though I do think it would have been fitting to make him the uncle, I also like the main focus being on just the "nuclear" family, with the uncle and other characters having supportive roles.
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An interesting note about the beta version of Yor is that she seemed to be more like Fiona - she was in love with Loid right from the start, to the point of trying to eliminate Anya! I doubt this is something she would be doing all the time as it would have been difficult to make her a likable main character if she was always trying to kill her daughter...in all likelihood, she would have tried to kill Anya at first before eventually learning to love her as a daughter. While I see how this could work for an intriguing character arc, I'm glad Endo decided to make Yor a loving mother to Anya right away, and not make her feelings for Loid an obsessive "love at first sight" kind of thing.
Twiyor tidbits
Being the shipper that I am, I tried to see if I could pinpoint any Twiyor subtleties throughout the book, as vague as they may be! 😂
Below are excerpts from Loid and Yor's character pages where we're given info on their current stance about each other.
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Love the emphasis on their bond of trust ❤️
Below are excerpts from chapters 14 and 35, probably the most Twiyor-heavy chapter pages in the book.
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This confirms that Loid did indeed interpret Yor's kick as her not having any romantic feelings for him.
Below are comments by Endo and Lin for chapter 30, where Fiona is introduced.
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Endo's line is a little ambiguous here, but I think he's saying how people sympathize with Fiona because she's "doomed to lose," which is...telling 😅 (does Fiona's loss automatically mean a Twiyor win?)
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Endo says he likes the "You're strong, Yor" conversation, one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far! 😊 Lin also mentioned how they got to use that theme again during the Becky chapter.
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Weird that he chose to highlight this line of all things as Loid's "Family Comment" for chapter 10. Could this and chapter 79 be more foreshadowing for an eventual "Twilight vs Thorn Princess" showdown? 👀 Or maybe he just likes teasing fans because he knows it's something they fantasize about.
English version omissions
There's an additional Endo interview that's missing from the English version of the book: an interview with him and Kazumi Takayama, a former idol of the group Nogizaka46.
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At first it seemed very odd that they would leave out just this interview, but after discussing it with others on Discord, I realized it's because it has to do with an idol. Apparently getting licensing rights for anything that has to do with a Japanese idol group is very difficult, which is further hindered by the fact that Takayama isn't even part of that idol group anymore, which makes getting the content green lit for official release overseas even more taxing. So probably Viz decided it wasn't worth the trouble and just left out that interview. But thankfully u/Nemshi on Reddit posted a fan translation of it, which you can read here. They talk a bit about SxF, but most of it is just general questions they ask each other.
And the other thing missing from the English version that I really can't understand is the inside cover! Another great 4th-wall breaking joke from Endo (I added a quick translation of the Japanese version below).
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Unlike the Takayama interview, I have no idea why they didn't include this. They include the inside cover as an extra page in all the English volumes, so why not here? Very weird.
---
And that's all I'm going to share for the "EYES ONLY" fanbook! Honestly, there's so much great content in the book that I didn't touch on, like info about East/West relations, about Eden Academy, Endo's comments on all the designer chairs for the volume covers...and lots more. So definitely get a copy yourself if you can! It's a must-have for any SxF fan 😁 Books like this aren't officially released in English very often, so the fact that Viz thought it was worthwhile to make this proves how much of a hit SxF is!
<- Return to Part 2
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wowa-bublord · 26 days
Note
Mentally lying on my bed and kicking my feet like a schoolgirl while joyously waiting for more Zack and Cloud sketchies ❤️ In your AU is Cloud completely conscious and aware when he first breaks out of his coma? Or is there a sort of in-between zone for awhile? If there is, is Zack overjoyed or worried out of his mind (or both)? Does Cloud struggle with allowing somebody to take care of him?
Sending you virtual hugs should you want them or a crisp and respectful nod of the head if not!
IM SORRY this ask only just showed up in my inbox but it says it's from march 24th?? tumblr killing me with daggers,,,, This is going to be a long one sorry!! I'll explain the stages of his coma first, and then the stages of waking up from it.
In the beginning, while they are on the run, Cloud is in.. something close to a catatonic state. He can perform basic instincts, such as blinking, swallowing, the small stumble-steps he's shown doing in gameplay, and making small noises. In my au/headcanon, this is because of the Mako keeping his body up and functioning in spite of his intense poisoning. Because of the Mako, his muscles also don't atrophy during this period. He has no memories from this era at all.
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After this, a little before the battalion but mostly after, his body begins to heal from his Mako poisoning. Which is good. but the lack of the access Mako leaves his body with far less functions. He begins to lose the ability to eat, becomes unable to even stumble, his eyes shut and don't open again. He falls into a full comatose state. Which, although it is very scary for Zack, and takes a lot more work and medical equipment, is actually a good sign for his healing. Fighting off mako poisoning this far is already rare.
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(In this segment, he is kept fed and hydrated through his IV, but he switches to an NG tube after he wakes up, due to the inconvenience of the IV and continued difficulty swallowing.)
His first signs of waking up were a few weeks before he opened his eyes. He began responding to stimuli, ears flicking at noises, hands tensing, eyes occasionally opening but not for long. It's at this stage that he also starts having nightmares, and becomes more aware of his environment. He has blurry memories from this era, but in the moment he was mostly just confused and distressed, and didn't process it. this took up most of the few weeks.
After some time, he began to have more moments of consciousness and rational thought. He could start to respond to simple questions or requests such as blinking or closing his hands. He only vaguely remembers this. It lasts a few days
when he actually began to wake up, initially he was incredibly upset and confused, not being recovered enough to actually process the situation. This resulted in him lashing out, not knowing where he was and initially not recognizing zack, he struggled and tried to pull his tubes out. This was the final stage to his waking up, only lasts an hour? possibly a few hours? and he was finally fully awake after this!!
When Cloud woke up from his coma, his body was incredibly weak from being bedridden so much. His muscles had atrophied severely over the few months, which put him in a wheelchair as they worked on him recovering.
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In this stage, he is mostly determined to improve again. He feels a lot of gratitude towards Zack for taking care of him so much, and a lot of frustration towards himself for not recovering faster.
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his next stage was crutches, he recovered his arm strength faster than his legs. He begins to pick up on zack overworking himself, but he's unsure how to approach it, and often ends up saying the wrong thing. (He still uses an NG tube in this era, but he begins to be able to eat on his own, so he doesn't have it in for much longer)
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His next stage is using a cane, which he ends up using for a long while. Even after his muscles have recovered, he maintains knee/hip pain for the rest of his life. He also has migraines and memory issues like in canon. At this stage, he begins to get frustrated with Zack more and more. He appreciates Zacks help, but feels frustrated with feeling like Zack doesn't trust him to take care of himself, and upset with how Zack prioritizes Cloud so much over himself. Due to these frustrations, he grows more confrontational. (<- comic linked is not 100% canon to this au, just an example.) Zack is overjoyed that Cloud is awake. He thought Clouds return to consciousness would help his fears and guilt ease, but for some reason he finds himself more worried than ever. He always backs off when Cloud says he wants space, but he finds himself worrying about what Cloud is doing now that he isn't able to be monitoring him all the time, and then guilty for feeling so worried.
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leupagus · 9 months
Text
Gonna be honest, I'm at the "noodling around instead of buckling down to actually write it" so here have another scene of whatever this ends up being
(From my doc which is labeled "sexnanigans lol")
"Why don't we just get it over with?" Crowley asked, a few days later. He was lying in bed, sprawled on his stomach along the top bit of the mattress with Aziraphale using him as a sort of very angular pillow. Every once in a while Aziraphale would rearrange Crowley's limbs into a new configuration to suit himself; at the moment he was contorted into something that most closely resembled a half-melted curly wurly.
"Mm?" said Aziraphale, his familiar I'm not really paying attention to you but I am recording what you're saying for playback in about thirty seconds, at which point I'll decide if anything you've said was worth listening to sort of "mm". He was reading yet another sexual manual; judging by the age of the cover and the deadness of the language contained therein, it was unlikely to be useful. The etchings were fun, though.
"You've been doing all this," he waved vaguely at the book, along with the half-dozen others piled on Aziraphale's nightstand, "For almost a month. Why don't we try something—"
"Get it over with?" Twenty-seven seconds, Crowley thought smugly, but attempted to school his expression into something serious when Aziraphale turned to frown at him. "I don't think this is something we ought to do at all, if you think of it like that. There's a rather good book, in fact, about enthusiastic consent and—" He reached for the nightstand.
Crowley tugged his arm back. "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "I'm all for it. I even invented some of those positions.* I'm just asking," he added, before Aziraphale could start demanding which positions, and with whom, which he was sure to say instead of who because jealousy in Aziraphale always manifested in creakingly correct grammar, "Why all this… research?"
Aziraphale shut his book, which could either go very well or very poorly; either way it meant Crowley was about to get his full attention. But he just sighed and said, "Do you recall the first time I tried food?"
That memory was too precious to deny. "You decimated an entire ox," Crowley said, not even bothering to keep the gloat out of his voice. "Most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."
"I think you really ought to be embarrassed about how much you mean that," Aziraphale said musingly, and right, this is why Crowley should have been wary about the closing of the book. "And then three hundred and eighty-seven years after that I tried wine, and got comprehensibly — what's the word?"
"Shitfaced."
"Blotto, thank you, is the word I was actually looking for. I had a hangover for two months."
"Wasn't that at my urging, too?" Crowley asked, reaching out to curl his fingers in Aziraphale's hair. "You really were rubbish at thwarting my wiles."
"Well, I was a rather rubbish angel, as it turned out," Aziraphale said, shutting his eyes and leaning into Crowley's touch. "Thank God for that. But that's my point, dearest. Whenever I've experienced the delights of Earth, it's often been — well, to use the old-fashioned term, gluttonous affair at first. Or if I'm using modern parlance, more gourmand than gourmet. And for this I want—"
"You think the terms 'gourmand' and 'gourmet' are modern parlance? D'you think the term 'modern parlance' is modern parlance?"
"I want," Aziraphale continued, relentless, "To savour it, this time. Savour you."
Crowley said, "Oh," and couldn't think of anything else to say. 
Aziraphale watched him for a few moments, those clever eyes seeing far too much, then made an absentminded tutting noise and maneuvered Crowley's elbow into a truly preposterous position before he resumed reading. 
Crowley let him.
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atom-writings · 7 months
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Can I request the allies helping their S/O when their depression keeps them in bed for a few days, which isn't normal for them.
hetalia allies when their s/o is going through a depressive episode
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1.8k words ~ gender neutral scenarios
tw: theyre not always the best but they figure it out (:
a/n: hope this was ok. if u want just like, comfort, thats cool and i can do that too seperately (: but anon i totally get i got crippling depression too. were alll in this togeeethherrr
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America
Depressive episodes were nothing out of the usual for you. What was out of the usual though, was just how horribly this one was hitting you. But it seems like the person who it hurt the most, was Alfred.
Once you began spending the majority of your time in bed, he began to bother you incessantly. It'd be more annoying for you if it wasn't clear just how much Alfred was panicking.
Every day he returned from home to find you in your miserable state, he would question your sudden episode over and over again until one of you fell asleep. He offered to take you somewhere, to buy you everything, anything to get you back to normal. No matter how much you insisted that none of that would help, he continued.
That was until one day, upon his return from work, he didn't immediately come up to interrogate your lack of motivation. From your shared bed, you could vaguely hear him fumbling around downstairs. After a while, his footsteps finally echoed up the stairs.
Your door creaked open slowly, revealing Alfred awkwardly carrying bags of snacks as well as a TV. He rushed forward to throw everything on the bed before starting to hook up the TV in front of the bed.
“Alfred?”
“Yeah?“
”What are you doin'?“
”Making this room fun to be in,” He answered bluntly, but his tone was kind.
After a minute, he finished setting up the TV and crawled into bed with you. Before you could say anything, he pulled you flush against his side.
“Staying in here is no good for you, but at least there's ways to make it... less bad.” He told you softly.
You took a moment to respond, ”Can... can you stay in here with me?“
”I'll stay in here until you're ready to leave, K?“
England
As soon as your illness began to rear its ugly head, Arthur took notice. It's not like it hadn't happened before, after all. The unusual eating habits, the exhaustion, how less excited you would become over things you love, it's all typical. So he would help the way he usually did.
If you're too tired for work or school, he gets you out of it. If you're hungry, he makes whatever you want anytime. If you're slacking on chores, he makes up for it two-fold.
The entire time you spend gloomily sitting on your phone or watching TV, Arthur is running from place to place in a panic. It's clear why, he's just desperately trying to ”solve“ your sadness. After all, over his many periods of depression, he always works himself to the bone to get through them. He struggles to understand how you can just... sit there.
But of course, that's not how human depression tends to work. Seeing him so motivated did nothing but make you more insecure about your own sudden ”laziness.” Living in an incredibly clean house only helps for so long until it starts feeling weird.
The only place safe from his worried frenzy was the bedroom, where you lay nearly all day. It was quiet there, at least. Not frustrating like everything else. That was until Arthur interrupted your silence by joining you in bed with a huff.
“Love, you've been in here all day.”
You didn't respond, simply nodding and rolling to face away from him.
“What's wrong?”
Still, no response.
He grabbed your shoulder lightly, trying to pull you to face him.
“What is it?”
“You know what's wrong.”
He sighed, before laying down as well. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, his soft breath hitting the back of your neck as his heart beat against your back.
“I guess a better question would be... do you want to talk about it?”
You pause, ”Not really...“
”Well, I'll be here with you until you do.“
”No running around?“
He chuckles, ”No, I'll stay here. After all, you're strong... I imagine this won't last forever, right Love?“
France
Francis is a sensitive person, but most importantly he's an emotionally intelligent one. He notices as soon as your depression begins to get bad again, and he always tries to do little things to help. But... he knows that you're the one who's had to live in your head for years. The only reason he would go out of his way to help is if you asked him to.
Which you usually don't. It never seems to stay unbearable long enough for you to justify asking him, even though he's made clear he's always willing to do anything for you.
But this time is different, it feels as if your thoughts can't stop, no matter what you do. Even as you rest in bed, you only get more and more tired, more angry and miserable. Francis noticed this... but he wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want him to.
At least, that's how he thinks usually. But now, seeing his beloved sobbing for the 15th day in a row, he decided he had to do something.
Early in the morning, before the sun had fully risen, you were awoken by Francis's smiling face.
”Time to get up!“
”No-“
You were swiftly cut off by him grabbing your arms and pulling you upwards.
”I've set out clothes for you. We're going somewhere.“
You shook your head, ”W-Where? I'm tired-“
”It's gonna be fun! I'll buy you coffee on the way, don't worry.“
So up you were, regardless of your protests.
An hour-long car drive later, and you understood why he was so enthusiastic about going here. Before you stood the most stunning valley you had ever seen, surrounded by perfectly green trees and water so blue you could've sworn it was fake. But the breeze flowing through your hair said otherwise.
“While we walk to the beach, you can tell me all about what's wrong, okay?” He locked his hand around yours.
Sure, it didn't solve everything. But... it was better than the bedroom.
China
Yao doesn't really... understand what depression is. When you tell him it's a “mental illness” all he understands is “illness.” So the moment things start getting worse for you, he's recommending all the things he learned to make sick people better.
If it gets to the point of being bedridden, he acts like you're gonna die. Which is obviously not very... comforting. So after many times of you telling him to leave you alone, he's gotten used to popping in every couple of hours with tea, but that's it.
After all, you're usually back to your normal self pretty quickly. But this time, he can tell something's off; and he's not about to let you wither away.
So, one morning, you're awoken to a delicious breakfast already in your lap and Yao sitting in front of you, looking like a kid on Christmas.
“Wh- Yao? Why did you...”
“You haven't been eating enough, and I don't want you getting tired soon.”
You looked at him suspiciously, “Why?”
“We have plans.“
”Good plans or bad plans?“
”Good plans! What do you think of me?“
Once you finished eating breakfast, he dragged you out of bed. No matter how much you protested, his grip on your hand was strong. He brought you to the other side of the house, into his already set-up studio.
”What are we doing in here?“ You ask nervously.
”Getting you out of bed,“ He responds quickly, gesturing to the yoga mat set up next to his.
All you could was sigh and stand next to him, waiting for instruction.
”Do we really have to do this?“
He nods, spreading his legs to the side and reaching down with one hand. Looking up at you expectantly, he smiled.
”It keeps you spry,“ He switched sides, ”It keeps you healthy.“
”I'm really not in the mood,“
”Trust me.“
With a huff, you slowly worked your creaking body into the same pose he pulled.
”I can't stand to see you suffer in that room.“
”It's not fun on my end either.“
”I love you. I wish you would tell me how to help.”
You groan as the next pose he demonstrated stretched you a little bit more than what was comfortable.
“You can't 'help.' Just gotta wait it out.“
He took a moment to respond, “Well, I suggest you wait it out in ways that get your mind off everything. Like this.”
“It's helping the tiniest bit, I guess...”
He chuckled, “We will keep working at it until you feel better. No matter how long it takes.”
Russia
When your depression gets bad, it seems to be obvious to everyone... except Ivan. Despite you bringing it up to him, he either doesn't know what to do... or he doesn't care. The possibility of the latter doing nothing to make you feel any better.
Even as you spend all day laying in bed, crying constantly, he doesn't seem to notice. He just acts like you aren't... suffering. That stings, a lot more than anything else creating this depressive episode.
But after a week of this unending gloominess, you get a strange text from Ivan.
“Come downstairs.”
Weird and annoying... but more importantly ominous. It takes you only a second to throw on a hoodie and rush downstairs. You can't hear his usual humming, and the house seems completely still as you search for him. But when you look out the back window, you see him.
As you enter the backyard, you fully see what he was doing.
In the middle of the yard, he set up a picnic. Surrounding him is a mountain of bright flowers, and tens of little plates bearing your favourite sweets lay on the light blanket.
“Come sit, darling.”
You would be foolish of you to not oblige. Once you sat down next to him, he reached out to stroke your cheek lovingly.
”What is torturing you so horribly?“
You took a deep breath, “Where to start?”
“Wherever you want,” he clucks his tongue sympathetically, resting his hand on your thigh.
“Y-You know... I thought you didn't care. You've been so... normal...”
Ivan looks awkward, averting his gaze, “I didn't want to make it worse. You're so strong, I knew you could get through it on your own. I'm sorry.”
“I can.... but I don't want to...”
He leans forward, kissing your forehead.
”I promise, now, you will never deal with anything alone.“
”You're sure it won't be too much?“
”Never. Never too much.“
hey there. its gonna get better. its gonna be different. but its gonna get better. there are hundreds of people youre gonna meet, and hundreds of places youre gonna go, and its gonna be amazing. one day youll wake up and realize everything is alright. because youre gonna be ok.
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loupy-mongoose · 10 months
Text
I've been doing some thinking about my world's canon...
In the past, I believe I've stated that I would be leaving Randy's soul situation up to interpretation. If I haven't said it publicly, I know I've said it to a select few individuals. I would have my own belief that I hold as canon, but due to people's varying opinions on religion, I wanted to keep it vague and open.
However, I've recently been thinking a lot about what my personal canon is, and in the process of thinking about it, I started writing a one-shot story about it. Specifically, the time of human Randy's death, and the process of Mo becoming Randy.
The thing is, it's become a lot less open. I now have a solid way that things work in this world of mine. And I've really come to like my interpretation of... certain things.
Now, the people-pleaser in me wants me to ask you if I should make this canon. But I need to tell myself that it's my story to do as I will with. It's my AU. It's my canon to decide.
So, I unapologetically make it so.
I'll be sure to continue to warn of religious elements for those who are averse. But I do intend on more heavily incorporating spiritual elements--Regardless of my own religious beliefs, I find spiritual elements fun to explore.
It's not meant as a "if you don't think this way, you're wrong!" thing, it's just my own interpretation of the Pokemon Mythos. So, I hope my decision is understandable, if not something you agree with.
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spicyicetea · 4 months
Text
So… I used to play Obey me a while back, but I finally decided to get back into it. You can thank Beel, I've always loved him. I decided that I'll open up my questions to any and all obey me related content but I also have a few ideas of my own I kinda want to write anyways.  I don't remember the plot of the original game that well. I know I could just go back and go through the chapters again, but I want to experience the game properly again so am currently waiting for the damn account deletion to be done so I can replay (Finally get to do it on the 19th). In the meantime,I've decided to start playing Nightbringer, I'm currently on Lesson 12, I don't remember what level though. I'm enjoying myself, Beel has been my focus since day one but seeing Diavolo in his demon form constantly… damn… ANYWAY!
Because I don't know the story as well as I generally know the characters, I have to make significant changes to the MC in my writing as I don't know all the vague lore you get about them every now and then. However, I've decided just blanking them out is too boring. A few complaints I've seen about x reader/xMCs is that they tend to be written with little to no significant personality, which makes sense to project upon but can become bland. I try to give my MCs different personalities and decide that I'll just do the same thing here. But, like more. I have one or two draft ideas but I'm still caught between them. I know I want to have the MC be an established character rather than a husk, it makes sense to have them be so blank for a game but it can sometimes make it hard to relate to such a blank slate in writing. (For me at least). Out of the drafts I've decided to go with, my first idea, which is to keep the Human MC but not have them be from the human world in the game. I was originally considering making the MC be from the real world, but to further differentiate the game MC to the way I want to write them, they're going to be from a world that is a bit more magical. It won't be blatantly in your face in the way of being overpowered or as strong as Solomon, but the MC isn't a pushover and doesn't like being disrespected. I suppose I should introduce our MC before posting the little preview to gauge interest. 
MEET MC:
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Currently she is being represented by my persona, but there is 0 description of her appearance in the actual writing, well other than basic fem descriptors, tiddie and thicc thighs because I am a whore. Now you can kinda already see some vague lore with all the hands. As I mentioned before, this MC comes from a world with magic, including angels, demons and more. The five mentioned briefly in the drawing refers to some characters that help establish her backstory and why she is in the Devildom in the first place, they won't play key roles in the story itself, unless people are interested in who they are.
Obey me! x reader (slight Yandere/possessive behaviour)
Warnings: All writing on my page is either full Yandere or somewhat Yandere, with possessive tendencies. Many may include mentions of violence, swearing and sexual imagery. MDNI. Demons trying to stake their claim over you already.
Prologue kinda
The tip of my foot tapped against the tiles as I continued to whisk the frosting in the bowl, cradled in my arms. Swaying side to side to the tune I hummed under my breath, a soft tail curling around my ankle grounding me again. I look to my side with a smile, crouching down and running my free hand through the soft cats fur.
“Hiya Jiji, are you alright?” I cooed, my cat rolling onto her back.
I close my eyes in a smile as my fingers go to scratch between her ears, but instead brush against the cold floor. With a pout I open my eyes, only to stare at an unfamiliar floor. The air feels stagnant and keeps catching in my throat, randomly appearing somewhere else armed with only a whisk and a bowl of frosting would do that to someone though. At the sound of a loud “Ahem” I slowly rose from my hunched of position.
“Who are you?” A stern voice called from behind me, clearly not happy to have a visitor.
Biting my lip nervously I turned on my heels to face them only to be met with a hoard, oh wait group is the appropriate word. Scanning over their horns and defensive posture, they must be demons… but I had never seen any demons like them back home. Speaking of home, I don’t recognise this place at all from hell when I’d visit to do business. My eyes darted to the bracelet on my wrist, the charms dangling there and not responding as I pressed on them.
“Damn it…” I muttered under my breath.
“I’ll ask again, who are you?” The voice asked again far more forcefully.
I dropped my arm back to my sides as I looked up at the demons. Upon a second glance, it was clear that three of them weren’t demons but angels, well one seems to be human but a shady one at that. Despite the suffocating anxiety settling in, I bit my lip and debated my options. Dying in a foreign hell didn’t seem too nice right about now.
‘Remember Y/N, when meeting anyone, no matter their status, act polite and formal. It has the lowest likelihood of backfiring.’ A voice echoed in my mind.
As much as I hated it when… he decided to implant thoughts in my memory, they were often useful. Heeding the voice’s advice I promptly bowed, straightening my posture as a rose again.
“My name is Y/N, I’m a human.”
“Y/N? Human? How intriguing, how is a human like you here?” The man beside the first laughed, placing a hand on the stern one’s shoulder as he spoke.
As if sharing the same thought, the all turned to the white haired human before he chuckled awkwardly and shook his head.
“Don’t look at me, this isn’t my doing, I don’t know anyone named Y/N.”
I just stood silently, watching as they devolved into bickering, the red-head who had addressed me before standing aside with another man, entertained my their squabbles. That was until I received a firm poke to my shoulder. I jolt at the sudden contact, smacking them on the cheek with the whisk still in my hand.
“Oh, can I?” The ginger asked, motioning to the bowl tucked under my arm.
I raised a bow and just held the whisk up at his face, him leaning forward and licking the frosting off, starting blankly at me before changing to a content smile and licked the rest of the frosting off of it.
“Mmm, sweet, did you make this?”
“Huh? Well, yes?”
He nodded, grabbing my shoulders and turning to face the group, his yelling grabbing their attention.
“Lucifer! We’re keeping her!”
“What?! No we’re not!”
“I think it’s an amazing idea, Lucifer! She can move into the spare room in the House of Lamentation!”
“Diavolo… yes sir.” Lucifer sighed.
—————————-
And that’s how I ended up here, sat on a bed that was apparently now mine while a demon cooed and painted my nails.
“Ah, you look so adorable Y/N-chan,” Asmodeus sang, admiring my now dry nails.
It had only been a day since I had been… given refuge in this house, and it was already exhausting. The brothers seemed to not trust me, yet clung to me whenever I went into shared living spaces. I’ve been jumped on, bit and two of the brothers even started yelling at each other when their “Y/N schedule” overlapped. It wasn’t all bad though. The brothers weren’t the only ones present at the time and the others seemed to stick around.
As Asmodeus dragged me by my arm out of the room into the library, I gulped as all eyes drew to us, their hungry stares sending shivers up my spine. As my eyes met a pair of friendly gold ones, a grin spread on Diavolo’s face, ushering me over.
“Ah, Y/N, are both of you done with your pampering? Come sit with us!” Diavolo grinned, patting his thigh.
I walk over to sit between him and Barbatos, standing waiting for an opportunity to sit down. Both of them looked at each other with a smirk, Diavolo leaning back and patting his thigh again.
“Come, what has you hesitating?” He grinned.
“Wait, you want me to… sit on-“
Diavolo leant forwards, intertwining our fingers as he pulled me towards himself, using his other hand to spin me around and sit me on his thigh. I tense up, hands shooting to sit in my lap. His hands stay on my hips, rubbing up and down my sides as he casually continued to speak to brothers.
“Lucifer, have you thought about our previous discussion?”
“Yes, my brothers and I would be more than able to monitor her at RAD.”
“Wait what?” I ask, turning back to look at Diavolo.
He just chuckled and leant forwards, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“Well, you must be here for some reason even if you’re unaware, so we’ve decided to let you stay. To help you integrate into the Devildom we’re enrolling you in RAD, the Royal Academy of Diavolo. Lucifer and his brothers will look after you during your stay, so if any problems come up, please do tell them. I don’t mind if you come visit Barbatos and I though, I can always make time for… special guests.”
His horns rubbed against the back of my neck as his grip tightened when the other brothers come into the library. Yeah… this is going to be a stressful stay.
Yay finally managed to copy past this without my tumblr having a stroke. I hope you people like this, I’m down horrendous for these men and really want an excuse to write for these characters. The relationships will build quickly and each new update will focus on a character primarily, perhaps with nsfw? Idk depends on how well you all take this. There are some characters I think would make sense to get close to first in this so I’ll make it up to y’all. As much as I want Diavolo sadly I don’t think, going down the harem route, that he’d be the first one you offically started dating, he’d probably be either after or just before Lucifer to be honest.
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txttletale · 1 year
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So I'm a leftist because I can plainly see that capitalism sucks, but I have a really hard time pinning down what I think we should replace it with because I have "agrees with the last theory I read" disease. (Or, more embarrassingly, "agrees with the last Post I read.")
Something I've been wondering about recently is what's the point of planning and arguing over what happens after the revolution anyway? The chances of a successful worker's revolution in my lifetime, let alone the next few decades, feels vanishingly small. The preconditions just feel so far away.
Is there really value in committing to a specific ideology right now, or is it sufficient to say the anarchist future and the ML future (and even, like, the DemSoc future) sound better than what we have now, and require many of the same preconditions, so let's work towards those shared goals now and figure out what comes after in a few decades when the groundwork is actually laid?
i agree with you that i don't think a genuine revolutionary situation will arise (at least, not in the imperial core) within our lifetimes. i also agree that there is a meaningful degree to which the theoretical differences between marxist-leninists & anarchists are far enough from being present and pressing concerns that they should in almost all cases be working together and employing similar tactics and action.
however, i do think there is a value to having an ideological framework: it keeps you consistent. if your ideology is vague and empty, you're liable to (intentional or unintentional) opportunism--you will fill in the gaps or approach new ideas with the default positions, the ones that require the least divergence from hegemonic cultural norms and values.
that sounds a bit ideological-jargony so i'll phrase it another way: if you grow up in a [joker voice] society, you're going to grow up with a lot of assumptions! like, 'cops reduce crime', for example. and if you don't have an underlying theory of capitalist society and how it functions, then it's entirely possible to realize (through experience or analysis) that capitalism is bad and that our society is inherently unjust, but continue thinking 'cops reduce crime' because that's just the default cultural position you grew up with. these two things are pretty impossible to reconcile, right--because of course the actual purpose of cops is to enforce private property rights and maintain the capitalist system of economic relations--but if you don't have a full theoretical framework of capitalism & society that you can use to analyse things, that incoherence is very easy to let slip by!
i also want to say that while i think that anarchists & marxist-leninists (and all other revolutionary) communists share common goals and functionally very similar political projects for our forseeable lifetime, there is a meaningful difference between these two and the 'demsocs' you mentioned. not an uncrossable gulf by any means in terms of working together and forging political alliances--but the steps one takes to agitate and organize the working class in anticipation of a future revolutionary situation, however distant, are imo very functionally different to the steps one takes to advocate for social reform within liberal legislatures. rosa luxemburg put it well when she said there is nothing reformist about supporting trade unions, welfare legislation, as a vehicle for revolutionary class struggle--but when you take these things as ends themselves, i.e., as viable methods for resolving the contradictions of capitalism, you become unable to use them as such a vehicle.
but, yeah. tldr; i think it is far from the most important thing (the most important thing is to be a principled anti-capitalist & anti-imperialist--these are the two litmus tests for whom i can consider a political ally), but it is useful to have an underlying political framework rather than a collection of individual positions, because the latter can lead to contradictory and self-defeating worldviews and political programs
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egophiliac · 1 year
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This may seem a bit dumb question for someone who's main in en server. But I need to prepare myself before chap 6 is coming. Anyway, is chap/book Ignihyde gonna be THAT hard?? I've seen a lot people kept saying they're not ready for chap 6 or good luck for 'that' battle. Is it that difficult?
some preparation would be a good idea, actually! if you just want advice with absolutely no potential spoilers (even vague ones), then I'll say this:
the best thing you can do for yourself is -- for the later part of episode 6 -- try to have at least one SR or SSR card no lower than level 40 for as many characters as possible (specific ones at the bottom 👇👇👇). I've seen 40 as the minimum recommended level but honestly, go as high as you reasonably can, especially with your SSRs.
I'll try to keep spoilers to a minimum, hopefully it'll still make sense :')
SO! most of the frustration revolves around chapters 6-66 and 6-67, which are both split into subroutes with multiple subchapters/battles that follow three different groups of characters. you have to finish all three routes to get to the next chapter, and they force certain requirements that can make it a lot more difficult if you aren't careful:
you build your teams at the start of the chapter, and can't change them without resetting your progress. (if I remember right, you do get a chance to rebuild for 6-67.)
teams are built by character, instead of by card like they normally are, and each one has 2-3 required characters locked into that team. you can use any cards of that character, but you can't use multiple of the same character, or use them in a different team. also, no guest/friend cards.
they tell you what the element of the bosses are, but the other battles are just...whatever. if you can manage more than one 40+ card for a character, having good type coverage will help out a lot (why yes, I did get stuck for an embarrassing amount of time on a low-level rando because I got unlucky with type matchups, what about it).
there's a couple of points where you have to wait several real-time hours before continuing. this doesn't have anything to do with the team building, it was just annoying. c'mon. >:(
to be fair, I think some of the general frustration comes from how out of nowhere it was, so it's sure to be much easier if you go in with some idea of what it'll be like. (on my first attempt I tried to be cute and put everybody with their friends. it...did not go well.) I also had a particularly hard time of it because 1) F2P = less SSRs to carry me, and 2) I hadn't really focused on any cards outside of my special little garden of favorites, so not being able to use multiples of the same character for everything kinda left me boned. I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel great when I finally got through it though!
more specific info:
in 6-66, the bosses are a 5-turn survival battle; in 6-67, they're infinite battles (reduce their HP to 0 to win) and, subsequently, much harder to get past. personally speaking, the Wood one was the hardest for me because it heals itself between turns (and also I had literally no good Rook cards at the time). your mileage may vary!
Team 1 - required characters are Vil, Epel and Rook, boss element is Wood
Team 2 - required characters are Leona and Jamil, boss element is Water
Team 3 - required characters are Riddle and Azul, boss element is Fire
teams are 5 characters as per the usual, so make sure you have good cards of the required boys and at least six to complement them, plus a few more if you want to be careful. this is ONLY for those two chapters, which are pretty late in the episode (for JP it came out as part of the final episode 6 update) so you've got time to prep!
there's the obligatory overblot battle later on that is technically harder (stronger + more HP and all that), but it felt SO much easier in comparison just because it was back to normal Twst rules. really hoping that episode 7 doesn't pull its own shenanigans 💀
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nineinchclaws · 8 months
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🦇⠀ash williams & nsfw headcanons
fandom⠀evil dead
characters⠀ash williams (army of darkness)
warning(s)⠀sexually explicit content
tags⠀dom!ash, sub!reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, female reader, male reader
note(s)⠀this ended up being.. so much longer than i anticipated. i did plan to include sub!ash hc's as well but because this is so long i think i'll make a separate post for that. same goes for giving and receiving oral, there will be separate posts for those, too!
divider⠀firefly-graphics
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*⠀it's no surprise that ash is possibly one of the horniest people on earth.
*⠀it really doesn't take a lot to get him in the mood; just a kiss on his jaw or a look at him through your eyelashes and he's already semi-hard.
*⠀he will do anything, anywhere: against a wall or door frame; over the counter, desk, or table; in the bathtub; on the couch, the floor, and, of course, the bed.
*⠀calls you every pet name under the sun: honey, baby, babe, sweetie, sweetheart, buttercup, doll/babydoll, sugar - he never runs out of things to call you.
*⠀teases you to no end. he'll touch around your genitals but never directly on them. and if he does, it's light touches or kisses that never last more than a few seconds. he teases to the point where he has you begging, and he doesn't even stop there. he'll give you what you want, but there'll be multiple points where he'll slow his movements or stop entirely, all with a smug grin. he just loves to make you squirm.
*⠀he wants to hear you loud and clear when you beg. he won't give you what you want if he isn't completely satisfied with your begging:
*⠀"use your words, doll. i know you can do it." "what was that? speak up, y/n, i can't hear you." "louder for me, baby."
*⠀he loves boobs. enough said.
*⠀but really, the first time you two have sex together and he takes your shirt off, he stares for a good 10 seconds, practically drooling over the sight before him until you have to pull him out of his trance. and even then, it takes him a little longer to fully snap back to reality and he still can't help but sneak glances of your chest.
*⠀that being said, he has trouble prying his hands and mouth from them. he'll have one hand kneading and massaging one breast while his mouth is on the other, biting and sucking and licking and doing whatever he can to your chest.
*⠀loves nipple piercings, too. if you have them, and they've made you more sensitive, he'll give your chest extra attention.
*⠀he's also a big fan of thighs. any size and shape, he'll be squeezing and massaging, kissing and biting them. if you wear thigh highs or stockings around him, he will not be able to keep his eyes or his hands off of them.
*⠀he's secretly a little insecure about his metal hand, and he won't let onto it until further on in your relationship, either until you catch on or he bashfully admits it himself, attempting to keep it vague. he continues to use it most of the time, and other times, he'll take it off and set it aside. he grows a little more confident about it if you give him some reassurance.
*⠀equally into praise as he is into degradation. and of course, he mixes the two:
*⠀"what a pretty slut you are." "such a good whore, just for me." "you look so beautiful when you take my cock, baby."
*⠀"good girl/boy." "atta girl/boy."
*⠀definitely has a praise kink himself - he literally called himself "the king" at the end of army of darkness, and it's obvious his ego is a bit inflated.
*⠀he'll say things like, "tell me how good i'm making you feel." and "that's right, let me hear those pretty sounds you're making for me, baby." both because he wants some praise himself and because he just loves hearing the noises you make.
*⠀tell him he's doing a good job and it could make him cum on the spot.
*⠀takes pride in knowing how good you feel and that it's him making you feel good:
*⠀"no one else could fuck you like this, could they, honey? no one else can make you feel this good."
*⠀this also includes him marking you and taking pride in all the little bites, hickeys, and marks he leaves on your body. and he'll leave them everywhere.
*⠀loves to fluster you and leave you with your whole face burning and being unable to look him in the eyes.
*⠀incredibly into dirty talk. he will talk a lot, always commenting on how he feels or how hot you are, asking if you like what he's doing and praising you for how well you're doing, as well as degrading you for how much you're enjoying it.
*⠀this man is STRONG. expect him to use that to his advantage.
*⠀he's able to hold/pin you to any surface and pick you up with ease.
*⠀especially likes to hold your wrists with one hand while he rubs/strokes your clit/cock with the other, all while he thrusts into you. either holding your wrists above your head, in front of you, or behind your back. he loves how vulnerable it makes you.
*⠀he loves getting to cum inside you, holding you close as if you might vanish in his arms as he finishes, then watching it drip out of you when he pulls out.
*⠀he equally loves cumming on your body. his favourite parts of your body to finish on are, to no surprise, your chest and thighs, as well as your stomach. the sight of it is enough to get him hard again.
*⠀usually goes for 2 rounds at least, but if he's had a particularly hard day either dealing with deadites - or worse: rude s-mart customers -, he'll be too exhausted to go for more than one round and will collapse in bed to rest for a minute or two before doing aftercare.
*⠀isn't the biggest fan of sex toys. however, he wouldn't turn down the opportunity to watch you masturbate with one as foreplay. though, he wouldn't be able to help himself for very long and would take over within minutes, and, depending on how he feels, might continue to use the toy on you.
*⠀especially not fond of dildos, because when you have him, why would you ever need one of those?
*⠀he's not against them and of course, he lets you do what you want, he just doesn't fully get it.
*⠀he's quite partial to vibrators though, because that's one thing he can't do. he likes to hold them on your clit/dick while he's fucking into you himself.
*⠀he likes to have the vibrator on the first or second lowest setting while he's slowly gliding the tip of it around your body, circling your chest, tracing your ribs, drawing patterns and shapes on your stomach, edging along your bikini line and dragging it along your thighs, slowly inching inwards before he gives you what he knows you're desperate for.
*⠀kisses and traces his fingers along your stretch marks, scars, and freckles, muttering about how beautiful and sexy you are and how he just can't wait to feel you around his cock.
*⠀his favourite positions are missionary, doggystyle, and pronebone.
*⠀during missionary, his eyes will be flickering between your chest and your face, watching as your breasts bounce and gauging your reaction to every stroke of his cock.
*⠀in doggy, he'll have his hands in two of four places: stroking along your back, gripping your hip, squeezing your ass, or holding a fistful of your hair.
*⠀and in pronebone, he'll keep his front against your back while he kisses, licks, and bites your ear and shoulder, whispering dirty things in your ear as he makes love to you.
*⠀loves to hold onto your waist and hips while he thrusts into you. can either have a very gentle or a very tight grip.
*⠀loves to smack your ass. all the time. he is relentless with it.
*⠀shows you off every chance he gets and teases you everywhere. if you work at s-mart with him, he'll pinch your ass as he walks past and try to steal kisses if the place isn't too busy. during breaks, he'll talk with your coworkers with his hand on your waist or hip, giving you firm squeezes now and again.
*⠀ash loves going down on you. he's more experienced with eating pussy than he is with sucking dick, but he won't back down from either.
*⠀a big fan of fingering. his fingers are long AND strong so expect to cum on them a good few times.
*⠀when he's done fingering you he might get you to suck his fingers...... maybe..
*⠀this is also good for when he gives handjobs. he is good at it and he'll never pass up the opportunity to watch you squirm while he's stroking your cock.
*⠀tells you to look at him while he's pleasuring you. he really likes to tease you by having you look at him, otherwise he'll stop if you take your eyes off of him.
*⠀obviously he's a little bit of a dork at times and sex isn't always completely serious, so he'll crack a few jokes and make a playful comment once or twice.
*⠀he is into light bondage and owns a pair of body-safe handcuffs. he loves getting to see you so helpless and at his mercy.
*⠀he jumps at the chance to join you in the bath or shower, and it doesn't take very long for you two to forget about getting clean in there.
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helloalycia · 1 year
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first friend [one] // yelena belova
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summary: you didn't expect to befriend an Avenger's sister, and yet you can't seem to imagine a life where she isn't in it.
warning/s: mentions of cheating.
author's note: it's been so long since i've updated this story and that's because i've been working on my own original fiction story, whilst also writing bits for this in between. here's a yelena imagine to make up for it! it's two parts so here is part one :)
some things to note: the snap didn't happen, thanos isn't a thing and natasha didn't die bc i said so lol
part two / masterlist / wattpad
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YOUR POV
Befriending Yelena Belova, a Black Widow assassin and the Black Widow's little sister wasn't something I expected to happen. Aside from the fact that I didn't even know she existed until recently, I didn't think we'd hit it off. And yet, when I was filing some mission reports out in the Avengers Compound, I found myself having to call back a Miss Yelena Belova because she hadn't filled out her report correctly.
She earned my attention by knocking her knuckle on the desk next to mine, making me look up.
"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" she asked with a questioning look.
I nodded, returning her look with a confused one. "I am... and you are?"
"Yelena Belova," she answered, and I noticed her thick Russian accent, as if her name hadn't given it away already. "I was told to see you? Something about a report?"
"Oh, yes! Yes, thank you for coming," I said with a smile, before spinning around in my seat to face her fully. "It shouldn't take long. It's about your latest mission reports you've been sending in. They're missing a few important details, so I though I could show you how to fix it and then you won't have to keep coming back here."
"They're wrong?" she asked, lifting a brow.
"Just a few mistakes," I assured her before going to pull my laptop from my drawer to set up for her. She mumbled something to herself in Russian and though I wasn't sure what, I knew she sounded disappointed, so I added, "It gets easier once you're used to it, don't worry. You're new right?"
She hummed halfheartedly, more intrigued with the reports I was pulling up on the laptop. I motioned to the seat beside me and she moved from her hovering position to sit there, eyes still glued to the laptop.
"Let's see... here we are," I said, getting everything up on the screen before pushing the laptop between us so she could see it better. "Just some wrong codes which makes it harder to file correctly. You've been a little vague with some of the descriptions, and most importantly, you didn't get it signed off."
She frowned slightly and I tried to make her feel better since I knew what it was like to be new and not completely understand the system.
"I'll show you how to fix it," I told her with a reassuring smile, before taking another look at one of her reports. "Hey, this is quite the first mission, Agent Belova. High profile, working directly with the Black Widow – that's huge! Congrats!"
She winced, shaking her head quickly so that her fringe shook with her. "No, no, no. It's not Agent. Just Yelena."
"Oh. Sorry, Yelena."
"And you don't need to congratulate me. She's my sister," she continued with nonchalance, making me snort with a stifled laugh.
"Yeah, and the Hulk is my brother," I played along, before looking back to the screen to start from the top.
"She is," Yelena said with such conviction that I almost believed her. "Natasha Romanoff. My sister. She's a Black Widow. I'm a Widow, too."
I scoffed, waiting for her to tell me she was joking, but the longer she stared at me with expressionless eyes, the stupider I felt. She wasn't lying.
"You're serious," I realised, suddenly straightening up.
"Was I not serious looking? I thought I was pretty serious looking..."
"I didn't even know Agent Romanoff had a sister," I said with a mixture of amazement and surprise.
Yelena blinked, looked down at herself, then said, "Well, here I am."
I tried to disguise my surprise, but it was very obvious. After all, it wasn't everyday you met one of the Avengers' siblings.
"Right, yeah," I babbled, not sure how else to respond. "Er, sorry. Anyway... the report. It still needs to be amended."
She sighed impatiently and motioned for me to continue, so I went through one of them with her, thoroughly explaining the process in which to fill it in. After she was certain she understood, I left her to fill in the second report on her own whilst I got back to my PC to continue some work. Every now and then I'd glance at her to see if she was okay, and she'd have this very entertaining pout on her lips as she made some corrections. For somebody who was a trained assassin, she wasn't very intimidating. It was cute.
"What?" she asked, and I blinked when I realised she'd caught me staring.
Hoping she couldn't sense the heat rising in my cheeks, I shook my head. "Sorry, nothing."
She quirked a brow, hazel eyes lingering on mine momentarily before going back to her screen.
After about ten minutes, she let out a sigh of relief and pushed the laptop towards me, earning my attention.
"It is done," she said tiredly. "I think, anyway."
I smiled at her before checking it over, relieved when I'd seen she'd done it right. She'd saved me a job in the long run.
"It's looking good, Yelena, thank you," I told her. "You're alright to go now."
"Great." She slapped her hands on her thighs before standing up, letting out a dramatic breath.
"Nice meeting you," I said with a nod as she tucked the chair in, ready to leave. "Though hopefully not again if you get this right from now on."
At my poor attempt at a joke, she surprisingly cracked a smile. "Nice meeting you, too, Y/N. Thanks for the help."
"Anytime. S'what I'm here for."
And that was what I thought would be the first and last time I'd meet Yelena. You know, a nice little story to share at parties of how I met an Avengers' sister. But it was barely half a month later when she returned. Funnily enough, it was for the same reason �� she was using the wrong code, making my job harder.
When I called her to my floor, I saw her first this time. I'd seen her around a few times since the last, though it was only in passing around the building. She definitely wouldn't have remembered me, but I'd heard enough about her to know who she was. Her eyes roamed the room before she caught my gaze and I waved her over with a friendly smile.
"Hey, Yelena," I said when she stopped before me. "You probably don't remember me, but I'm–"
"Y/N Y/L/N, right?" she asked, to my surprise.
"Yeah...," I said, before adding, "Sorry for calling you down again. It's just– you really need to get this right before I file it away and it's a bad habit to develop."
She pouted a little, nodding. "Right. Sorry."
"It's all good," I assured her, leading her over to the laptop already set up at my desk. "We can go through it again if it'll help."
She nodded and I sat with her for a bit, explaining what the different codes meant and how to differentiate for the sake of the filing system. She seemed to understand after a bit, so I left her to it as I returned to my computer beside her to do some work. It was quiet for a few minutes, as she correctly filed her latest reports, before she spoke up.
"You have a lot of... things," she noticed aloud, and when I glanced her way, she was touching one of the toys on my desk – a solar-powered dancing giraffe.
I smiled with amusement. "Yeah... I get tired of staring at a screen all the time, so it's nice to have stuff to play with."
She reached over for another one of the toys lining my desk – a Scooby Doo plushie – and held it up, quirking a brow. "This?"
Putting on my best Shaggy voice, I said with a grin, "That's Scoob."
She seemed mildly taken aback by my voice and blinked, making me realise she had no idea what I was doing.
"Scooby Doo?" I prompted, my face heating up with embarrassment, before taking the plushie from her and setting it back down to distract myself and not think about the funny look she was giving me. "My sister got it me as a present for my desk. I don't even like Scooby Doo that much, but it's cute..."
"I have no idea what a Scooby Doo is," she said, shaking her head.
I raised my brows, surprised. "No." Judging from her expression, she was serious, leading me to continue attempting to prompt some sort of memory of the famous cartoon. "Scooby Doo? Mystery Inc.? Shaggy? Velma? Daphne? Fred?"
"It's almost like I've been under mind control for the past decade and not had chance to watch any TV in my free time," she deadpanned, and my insides shrivelled up there and then.
Since Yelena had started working with her sister, storied had travelled through the grapevine about how she'd been under mind control and was freed, only for her to spend a lot of her time doing the same for the women in the Black Widow programme around the world, freeing them, too. It was honourable work, but easy to forget when it wasn't something that affected you directly.
"Oh, erm," I started, mouth going dry the longer she stared through my soul (or at least it felt that way), "sorry. I didn't mean to– oh God– I–"
"Kidding," she interrupted, her intimidating expression easing into a smile. She tilted her head, amused. "Kind of. I mean, that's definitely what happened, but no biggie."
I began to laugh awkwardly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Right, yeah..."
"You're not mad, right?" she asked, in reference to her playing me.
So, I took my revenge, naturally. "Well, it was kind of shitty to make this whole thing awkward," I answered with a fake frown.
Her smile faded instantly when she realised I was offended, so I shot her a smile of my own, tilting my head.
"Kidding."
Upon realising I, too, was pulling her leg, she exhaled softly and rolled her eyes, but a playful smile was tugging at her lips.
"Anyway," I returned to the subject at hand, looking back to the plushie, "it's cool. Scooby Doo. Worth the watch, if you find the chance."
She hummed in response, but I wasn't sure if she was actually considering it or just making conversation.
Soon enough, we returned to our work before she finished up and filed everything correctly this time.
"Awesome, looks like you're all done here," I told her, the both of us standing up. "Was nice seeing you again, Yelena. Hopefully for the last time. I'm sure you're getting sick of being called down here."
She cracked a smile, hazel eyes looking green as they met mine. "It was nice meeting you properly, Y/N Y/L/N."
I wondered why she kept addressing me by my full name but said nothing of it as I nodded to her. "You, too. See you later."
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Though Yelena and I had met twice because of work circumstances, we never became friends until afterwards. It wasn't long after that second encounter when I saw her again.
I was eating lunch with some colleagues in the café on one of the lower levels of the Compound when I recognised the blonde assassin approaching our table, to my surprise.
Immediately I lowered my sandwich and sent her a smile. "Yelena, hey!"
She was wearing workout clothes, though wasn't sweaty which made me think she was on her lunch break, too. "Hey, I saw you and thought I'd stop by to say hello."
This was surprising to hear, since the Avengers rarely ate anywhere but their designated floors, but I appreciated it nonetheless and answered, "Nice. Have you eaten? You can join us if you want."
I motioned to the table of my colleagues, who were all so deep into conversation that they weren't even paying Yelena and I any attention. To be fair, it was so busy in the café that I could only just about hear our conversation myself.
"Oh, no, I've just finished eating with my sister," she explained, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.
I followed the direction and saw none other than Natasha Romanoff sat at a table by the window, looking over at us with intrigue. Too intimidated by her presence, I immediately looked away, hoping nobody picked up on it. What can I say? It was an Avenger! Yes, I worked in the same building as them, but they were still superheroes. And Natasha was the scariest one in my opinion.
"Cool," I squeaked out, cursing inwardly at my failed attempt to remain cool before Yelena.
Maybe it was because we'd gotten to know each other a little so I wasn't as intimidated by her as I should have been, but I didn't find myself nervous around Yelena which was a relief. I had no doubts that she could murder me in several ways, just like her sister, if she wanted to, but it still didn't make a difference.
"So, I checked out that Scooby Doo show you mentioned," Yelena continued, further surprising me. "And apparently there's a film as well?"
I grinned at the mention of it. "Hell yeah! The film is the best. But it has to be the 2002 and 2004 ones."
"Yeah, well the show is great, and I get the whole Shaggy voice you were doing now," she said with a smile, and I felt myself cringing as I relived that moment all over again.
"That's good," I said awkwardly, scrunching my face up with embarrassment, and she definitely noticed but thankfully didn't tease me about it. "Anyway, you doing good? You must be since you've not been sent down to see me to fix your reports."
She snickered. "Yeah. Thanks for the help with that by the way."
I shrugged. "It's the job."
She hummed, appearing awkward momentarily, before taking a step back. "I should leave you to it anyway. Just wanted to say hello. Hope I didn't interrupt."
"No worries, you didn't!" I said reassuringly, realising she may have wanted to talk some more. To be honest, I kind of wanted to, too. She was easy to talk to. "Hey, er, before you go, did you want to go out for a coffee or something sometime? I know you're new to the city, so maybe you wanna hang out?"
In this moment, it wasn't like I was talking to an Avenger's sister or an infamous Black Widow. It was just me wanting to get to know Yelena Belova a little better. She was new, we got on, so why not? Only when she took a second longer to answer did I realise that I may have overstepped. But thankfully, any worries I had were squashed when she smiled gently.
"Yeah, I would like that," she said with a nod.
I returned her smile. "Cool. Hold on. I'll grab your number from you, let me just get my phone..."
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THIRD PERSON POV
After exchanging phone numbers with Y/N, the two girls bid their goodbyes before Yelena returned to her sister. Natasha was standing up already, ready to leave, but not without giving her sister a knowing smirk.
"What?" Yelena asked when she noticed it, grabbing her rubbish from the table and moving to throw it away.
Natasha's smirk didn't fade as she followed after the blonde, but not before glancing back at the girl Yelena was just talking to. "I know why you wanted to eat downstairs now."
Yelena, who was usually so in control of situations like these, avoided looking at the redhead. "Shut up, Natasha."
Natasha, of course, didn't let up. "So, who was that? New crush?"
Yelena was certain her cheeks are pink with embarrassment, but she refused to let Natasha get to her. "I don't know what you're talking about. You told me to make new friends, remember?"
Chuckling to herself, Natasha said, "Yeah, no. That's clearly more than a friend. Or at least you want it to be. Now. Are you gonna tell me who she is or do I have to go back there and find out myself?"
Yelena rolled her eyes, sure that if she just didn't answer, her sister would leave it alone. Of course, that was too good to be true as Natasha suddenly came to a halt and began to back up, ready to turn around.
"Natasha, wait!" Yelena spluttered, grabbing her by the arms to stop her, making Natasha raise her brows with surprise and amusement.
"Wow, somebody's nervous! What – you scared I'm gonna embarrass you?" Natasha teased.
Yelena was hot with nervousness, unsure why she was so effected by the possibility of Y/N and her sister meeting. Then again, the fact that Natasha was definitely intending to humiliate her was probably enough of a reason.
"She isn't a crush," Yelena explained, though she would be lying if she said she wasn't thinking about Y/N a lot more than she should have been since their last encounter. "Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She works in the admin department a few floors down. We've spoken a few times and I thought she seemed pretty cool, so we made plans to hang out. That's all."
Natasha squinted, trying to read her sister's expression. It was clear that wasn't the whole truth, but she'd done enough teasing for the day and decided to give Yelena a break. For now.
"Hmm, alright," she gave in reluctantly. "If you say so."
"Your told me to make friends," Yelena reminded her, letting go of her arms and relaxing. "That's all I'm doing.”
Natasha snickered. "Right. Well, good on you."
Yelena exhaled, glad Natasha wasn't fighting it anymore. After all, she wasn't lying. She was just making friends. Ever since joining her sister at the Compound, making use of the resources the Avengers had on her mission to freeing the mind-controlled Widows, Natasha had been adamant she attempt to fit in somehow, make a life for herself. And Y/N happened to be the first person she had a genuine interest in. Was that a crime?
It wasn't a crush – at least she didn't think it was. After all, she hadn't had the opportunity to 'like' like somebody before, let alone befriend somebody. She wasn't exactly sure she knew the difference, not when she hadn't had control of her own mind for so long.
It was best to take things as they came, she knew that, so that's what she would do. And that began with going out with Y/N.
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YOUR POV
After hanging out with Yelena – nothing extravagant, just grabbing a coffee and getting to know each other better – we became friends. It was easy to grow used to her dry, sarcastic sense of humour and blunt personality, and it was much easier to be less intimidated by her when I realised how sweet she was.
I wasn't sure how or why we got on, but we just did, and that was where our friendship blossomed. We'd catch each other at work, her mostly stopping by my offices as going to the Avengers' personal floors still made me nervous, and I'd show her around the city more between work which was the best way for her to settle in whilst I got to show her some of my favourite spots.
Turns out the scary assassin was actually a big old softie on the inside, and it was too easy to consider her my best friend. After half a year of growing so close that she knew pretty much everything about me and vice versa, I couldn't have imagined not having her in my life. Her opinion meant a lot to me – she meant a lot to me – so much that when I found out my boyfriend of a year was cheating on me, I couldn't bring it in myself to tell her.
It was humiliating, finding the texts on his phone from another girl, along with some inappropriate videos. Dehumanising when he tried to defend his actions after discovering I knew the truth. We were in a content, happy relationship and I was convinced I loved him, only for the worst to happen.
The last thing I wanted to do was air out my dirty laundry to people I knew, including Yelena, so I kept it to myself. Of course it hurt and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry, but the embarrassment of her finding out I'd been cheated on was even worse, so I just didn't tell her.
Of course, Yelena wasn't a fool. She was a trained assassin for crying out loud, so when were watching TV together in my apartment, she brought the topic up carefully.
"Y'know, I haven't heard you talk about Thomas in a while," she said between episodes of The Office.
The mention of my ex-boyfriend took me off guard, admittedly, and I hoped she couldn't see my hesitation when I replied, "Yeah, he's not really in my life anymore. We broke up."
In my peripheral vision, I could see Yelena's surprise. "Pardon? Did I hear that right? You broke up?"
I cleared my throat, nodding nonchalantly, though inside the wound was still fresh. "Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We realised it wasn't working anymore. So, we broke up."
"But you were– it was a long–" She was stuck on her words, before finally settling on, "When?"
I shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, fingers playing with the corner of the cushion in my hand. "About a week ago."
She paused, and I finally looked over to see her watching me with a softened expression, though still confused.
"Do you mind if we don't talk about it?" I asked her gently, offering a forced smile.
She nodded. "Right. Sorry. I just– sorry."
I shrugged, looking back at the TV. "It's okay. It's no biggie."
It was, but she didn't need to know that. My hope was that she'd never bring it up again and I'd move on from it all without her ever discovering the embarrassment of the truth. That just wasn't the case though...
We went out for lunch together, maybe a week after that conversation took place, and it was going perfectly fine. We caught up, had pointless and absolutely insane conversations about things that made no sense, and were genuinely enjoying each other's company. It was going perfectly fine, until it wasn't.
"...so he tried to shoot me, but obviously he didn't get a single shot...," Yelena was recalling one of her recent missions, and I wanted to listen, but my attention was stolen when I saw who was sat a few tables behind her.
Thomas, out of all the people who I could have spotted, was pulling out a chair for his date – a really pretty girl who I recalled seeing in the photos and videos on his phone. They were smiling flirtatiously at one another, clearly on a date, and though it was so glaringly obvious that he was going out with her, it didn't really hit me until they shared a kiss.
He was on a date with the girl he cheated on me with.
It wasn't the easiest thing to witness, the wound still very much raw. I hated his guts and I hated the way he made me feel, but that hatred was still wrapped in hurt and embarrassment. And when I saw him with her, I already felt tears pricking my eyes.
"Sorry, I just need to go to the toilet," I cut Yelena off quickly, stumbling out of my booth as I stood up.
She called my name but I ignored her as I sped to the toilets, avoiding looking anywhere but ahead. Thankfully it was empty, but I was left to view my own reflection and, for the first time in a long time, I hated what I saw. I looked like a mess. My vision was blurry, tears filling my eyes, a lump in my throat.
He really didn't want me, didn't he? Something had to be wrong for him not to.
"Y/N, are you in here?"
I sucked up a breath and wiped my eyes before I could shed a single tear for him. Turning around, I saw Yelena entering the bathroom, eyes looking around until they met mine worriedly.
"There you are," she said with relief, rushing in and resting her hands on my shoulders. "What happened? Is it to do with Thomas? I saw him sat out there when you ran off."
It would have been so easy to lie and brush it off, but Yelena was staring right into my soul and I couldn't hold it in for much longer.
"We didn't break up mutually," I whispered, ashamed of the crack in my voice.
Yelena wasn't following. "What?"
I frowned, looking down and feeling my eyes well up all over again. "Thomas and I. We didn't– he–"
Why was it so hard to say?
"Y/N, you can tell me anything," Yelena reassured in a voice so soft I'd never heard it before.
I couldn't meet her eyes. "He was cheating on me."
She didn't respond, nor react, not verbally anyway. I wasn't sure what expression she pulled because I was too embarrassed to look up from the floor.
"Y/N, I..."
All she did was pull me close and it was like a dam burst within me, the tears I'd bottled up for so long finally being set free. I sobbed quietly, shamefully, into her shoulder, and wasn't sure what else to say.
Yelena was sweet – she always was – as she held me upright, letting me make a wet, snotty mess of her jacket. And she held me close until I finally stopped, reluctantly pulling myself from the safety of the crook of her neck.
"Do you want to say something to him?" is all she asked, so carefully, as if I might break even more.
I shook my head, wiping the tears from my face and avoiding her eyes. "I just want to leave."
She nodded, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it gently. I was too tired to do anything but let her lead me out of there, most of it a blur. I recalled her glaring daggers in Thomas' direction when we passed his table, but I refused to look up and see if he noticed. When we reached her car, there was a tense silence in the air.
Finally, after a minute, she broke it.
"Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?" she asked quietly, and I could feel her eyes boring into the side of my head.
Wiping my face to distract from my warm cheeks, I answered, "It's embarrassing."
"No, it's not," she said, and I could see her shaking her head in the corner of my eye.
I scoffed, angry at myself for breaking down. "Of course it is. He cheated on me because clearly something is wrong with me. That's literally the epitome of embarrassing."
"What– are you insane?"
I glanced at her, clenching my jaw. "Maybe. Who knows?"
She scrunched her face up with annoyance. "Stop that. You're not." Her expression softened. "You're completely and utterly wonderful, and the only insane one is him for throwing that away!"
I rolled my eyes, leaning against the passenger door as I got comfortable. "You have to say that. You're my friend."
"No," she said with conviction. "I mean it. Every word. And those are the reasons I'm your friend. Because you're the way you are."
I shook my head, glaring at the front window. "Forget it, it doesn't matter anyway. Can you just– please can we go home?"
She opened her mouth, as if to retort, and I seriously wasn't in the mood. Thankfully, she dropped it for now and put her seatbelt on instead.
The ride home was awkward, mostly because I still felt humiliated at my breakdown and even worse because I hated being pitied by Yelena. If it were up to me, we'd forget this ever happened, but I knew she wouldn't.
"You should've said something sooner," she said when she pulled up outside my apartment building. Her voice was calm, but her words carried weight. "I would've helped."
Realising how bitchy I was being for no reason, I let go of my anger. She was never my target – I was my own worst enemy right now. All Yelena had done was be there for me.
"You helped before. Getting me out of there." I exhaled, regretful of my attitude earlier, and gave her a grateful look. "Thanks."
She looked to me, green eyes twinkling sadly, matching the frown on her lips. I leaned forward and pulled her in for a hug, albeit an awkward one because we were still in the car, but a needed one. She was a really good hugger, I realised, and I didn't want her to go just yet.
"Do you wanna come up?" I asked lamely once I pulled away. "I just– I–"
"Of course," she cut me off, and I was relieved because I had no idea how to say anything else.
I relaxed, nodding, and glanced at her with a small smile before getting out the car. She followed me out and up to my place, where we instantly fell into a sweet lull of an afternoon. She didn't bring up Thomas for the rest of the day. Not when we ate up all the junk food in my kitchen. Not when we watched one film after another, her letting me pick them all. And not when we passed out on my couch, too tired to get up and make it to my bed.
When I woke up the next morning, I found myself half laying on Yelena's chest as she laid on the couch, leg hanging off the end.
"Shit, sorry," I mumbled when I realised I was drooling on her shirt.
She groaned, tired, and mumbled something I couldn't make out, before opening her eyes and immediately widening them. I wondered what had her spooked, but was still too tired to think on it longer than a second.
"I am so hungry," I thought aloud, pushing myself to sit upright. Letting out a yawn, I checked my watch. "We didn't eat at all last night. Not a proper meal anyway."
Yelena still hadn't spoken, so I stood up and stretched, yawning once more. I hadn't realised how quickly time had gotten away from us yesterday, nor how easily I was able to forget the mishap because I had Yelena.
"I think I have some eggs in the fridge," I said, padding over to the kitchen to take a look. "You want some?"
Yelena didn't answer and I didn't really care, taking it as a yes anyway. Before starting to cook, I went to freshen up in the bathroom and wake myself up a little more. When I came out, Yelena was waiting outside the door.
"There's a spare toothbrush under the sink," I told her with a smile. "I'll get started on breakfast."
She nodded tiredly, going in after me. I started on breakfast meanwhile, the events of yesterday coming to mind as I fried some eggs. It was a strange day, but it felt good to be able to tell Yelena the truth. I didn't feel so alone anymore.
When I heard Yelena coming out the bathroom, I glanced over my shoulder and saw her looking much more awake than before. And that's also when I realised she was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
"I have some clothes you can wear if you want," I offered, but she declined with a polite head shake.
"I'll just be going back to the Compound after, it's all good."
I hummed in acknowledgment, getting back to putting our breakfast together. She took a seat at the dining table and I felt the need to speak up again.
"Thanks," I blurted out, making no sense.
She sounded confused, and tired. "Huh?"
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I distracted myself with plating up our eggs. "For staying last night. And for not making... it a thing. That's all I wanted."
If Yelena wanted to, she could have turned Thomas inside out with ease, but she didn't, and I was eternally grateful.
"I'll always be here for you, Y/N," she said when I was setting her plate in front of her.
I glanced up at her from the plate. "I know. I'm lucky."
She began to smile, eyes meeting mine comfortingly. I returned her smile, hoping she knew how much she meant to me, before taking a seat opposite her and digging in.
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toast-tales · 7 months
Text
Christopher's First Time
A look into the life of a 15-year-old Christopher, and what it was like for him to meet his first ever human. Not sure if I'll continue this later, but I wanted to share what I had so far.
Contains: language, anxiety/panic, vague mentions of domestic violence/verbal abuse, and unwilling but safe vore. About 4.3k words.
13 Years Ago
He could hear the rough, uneven steps coming down the hall, instantly recognizable. Every nerve in his body twitched, suddenly on high alert, though outwardly, his body didn’t betray any sign of distress. 
His eyes darted over to the clock next to his bed, nestled on the windowsill. Six o’ clock, right on schedule. It was a routine. Get home from work, watch TV, get surly and wasted. It was always a gamble whether or not Christopher’s door would get thrown open so his dad could “check up” on him. Not that his dad cared enough to ask how he was doing in school or anything—he usually just needed something to yell at. 
Christopher lost focus on the book he was reading, and no matter how many times his eyes scanned the words, nothing stuck anymore. The pages started to swim together in his mind. His fingers gripped the edge of the book a little tighter, and his heart began to beat in his ears a little louder. 
The footsteps got closer, taking the same path through the house he’d committed to memory. They stopped just outside of his door, and Christopher held his breath, waiting for the sound of his doorknob turning and the inevitable, senseless berating. 
But then his father continued down the hall, as if he’d simply lost interest in Christopher altogether. And from the sound of it, he’d simply found a new target for the anger—something in the kitchen that hadn’t gotten cleaned properly. 
He wished he could block out the sound of his parents arguing back and forth, but his ears picked up each word clearly, even through the walls. He grimaced, tossing the book down onto his bed and drawing his knees in to his chest, trying desperately to cover his ears. 
Every fucking night. Why can’t he just shut the fuck up. 
He hadn’t eaten dinner yet, and he was sure at this rate it was going to be forgotten about again. If he went out there to check, he’d just get yelled at. 
Perhaps it was because he was so hungry, but a scent caught his nose—faint at first, then stronger, until it almost assaulted his senses completely. His head snapped up—he recognized the scent. He’d only ever smelled traces of it on his father, but he knew what it meant.
Human?
But this wasn’t a mere trace of a human’s scent—this was an actual human, close by. His head swiveled around until his eyes landed on where his nose led.
There, on the floor across from where he sat on his bed, was a human. An honest-to-goodness human, staring at him with wide eyes and frozen in place. 
There were a multitude of things that ran through his head in that moment, but the one that seemed to take precedence was I can’t let him catch me with drugs in here.
Without thinking, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and landed on the floor, mindful of his weight distribution to keep his footfalls silent. The human, upon seeing his sudden movement, gave a tiny yelp, its entire body tense and ready to dart away.
Christopher held up his hands reflexively as he crouched down, as if to calm a wild animal. I’m not going to hurt you. 
Now that he could get a better look at it, he found himself studying the strange creature rather intently. He knew that humans looked sort of like miniature giants, like dolls, but he’d never anticipated the resemblance to be so…uncanny in real life. This one seemed to be male, with short brown hair and sharp features. He looked rather…unkempt, for lack of a better word. His clothes were tattered and worn, and he seemed to be covered in dirt and grime. His hair stuck out at messy angles—clearly, this human had had other things to worry about besides his appearance.
He didn’t look at all like the few humans he’d seen in movies. Those had always been made to look perfect—if they were real at all, and not fake replicas. This one looked like he’d just finished wrestling a rat out in the wild. 
The human took a step backwards, but he didn’t run—Christopher could tell the human’s focus was split between him and the loud shouting going on a few rooms down. The sound made the human wince—it likely seemed much scarier to someone only a few inches tall. 
Whatever the reason, Christopher was glad the human hadn’t dashed away yet. He kept his voice low and quiet, though he knew it was unlikely his parents could hear him with the volume of their own “discussion.” 
“Hey. It’s okay.” Christopher slowly lowered his hands, though he didn’t move any closer. He spoke slowly and deliberately, though he didn’t think the human would be able to understand his words. “I’m a friend.” 
The human’s eyes remained wide-open and full of fear. He almost looked nauseous as he looked Christopher up and down, his posture only relaxing slightly.
Finally, though, the human spoke up timidly. “Y-y-you’re fucking huge, man.” 
Christopher’s eyes widened a bit, his head tilted in curiosity. “I didn’t realize humans spoke English.” 
The human seemed just as confused as Christopher was, though his eyes kept darting back and forth towards the sound of his father’s yelling. 
“Don’t worry about him,” Christopher muttered, a bit of resentment coloring his tone. “It’s just my dad. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just…what are you doing here?”
“I…uh…” The human seemed to shrink further into himself. “I snuck in,” he squeaked. “I nearly got killed trying to make it out there,” he said, gesturing towards the window, “and um…figured I’d take my chances with the house. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
Christopher hurriedly made a shushing sound as the human’s voice increased in pitch. “Keep it down,” he hissed, though he tried to keep his voice gentle so as to not scare the human more than he already seemed to be. “I don’t want my dad to hear you.” 
“Right, right…” The human seemed to take a few deep breaths, calming himself, before he stood up a little straighter. He tried to speak confidently, though there was still a healthy amount of wariness about him. “I’m Joey. What’s your name?” 
Christopher wasn’t sure why he was surprised that the human had a name—he’d just never thought about it that way before. He found himself blinking a few times before answering. “I’m Christopher.”
“You’re…what, a teenager, right? You look pretty young.”
“I’m fifteen.”
“Uh-huh.” Joey jumped at the sound of what seemed to be breaking glass coming from the kitchen. “Listen, Christopher, I don’t want to be any trouble, but…do you know somewhere I can stay that’s…safe?”
“Uh…no, I don’t.” Christopher had only heard vaguely of human enthusiasts in the city that supposedly made secret places for humans to live. But there definitely wasn’t anything like that in Red Tree. “Sorry.”
“Okay…” Joey said, a little cautiously. “Look, could I just…stay here for a bit? It’s raining outside. I nearly drowned earlier.” 
Christopher had barely noticed the sound of the rain picking up outside—he’d been far more distracted by the sound of the storm inside the house.
That’s right. He couldn’t possibly survive outside in this weather. 
He swallowed nervously, keeping an ear out for the sound of his father getting closer. “I…listen, I can’t let my dad catch me with a human—”
“You can hide me, right? Listen, anything is preferable to dying out there. You can stuff me in a drawer for all I care. Just don’t send me back outside. Please.”
Christopher shook his head. “Your smell. Your scent is…really strong.” It was making his own stomach twist in knots to inhale it—he couldn’t put words to the sharp scent. It wasn’t like anything else in the world. It was totally distinct, almost alien—but not unpleasant. Not at all unpleasant, actually. 
He found his mouth watering slightly, and his empty stomach growled.
No. That’s disgusting. You’re not like him. You’re not going to EAT this human.
Despite his mental protests, he found that he was curious. It was a common enough thing—everyone ate humans in secret. Even some of his classmates had done it—or at least, talked like they’d done so. Smelling this human now, he could see the appeal—the scent twisted around his lungs and teased the back of his tongue, all but begging him to get a taste of this human. Of Joey.
He’s got a name. He’s a person—you can’t just eat him. Even if it’s safe.
“Yeah, okay, kid, I haven’t exactly had time for a bath—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Christopher said, grimacing slightly from another painful, hungry twist of his stomach. “I mean giants can smell humans really well. My dad would find you.” 
“...ah.” Joey’s face looked a little paler all of a sudden. “Does your dad, uh, have something against humans?”
Does he not know…? 
Christopher felt a bit awkward all of a sudden, not entirely sure how to go about explaining to Joey that humans were drugs to most giants. He didn’t want to scare the poor human more. 
Could he keep Joey in his room? He might be able to get away with it. His father’s senses weren’t all that sharp, not as much as his own were. Maybe he could find a way to mask the scent somehow. He wondered if it would be suspicious for his room to suddenly start smelling like lavender. 
“He—”
A sound interrupted Christopher’s sentence, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. His father’s heavy, thudding footsteps were making their way back down the hallway—towards his room again. 
“Shit,” Christopher hissed. Panic gripped his mind, and in that panic, his hand shot forward and grabbed Joey—eliciting a tiny yelp of surprise from the human.
“Hey! Wh—”
Christopher desperately put a finger to his lips to silence Joey, his heart beating furiously against his ribcage. His father wouldn’t take it well to find a human in his room on a good day—and this definitely wasn’t one of his good days. 
The footsteps got closer and closer. Christopher knew the door would be thrown open soon—he doubted he’d get as lucky as he’d gotten before. And surely, any closer and his father would be able to smell Joey…
He stared down at the human, his own wide eyes reflected in the human’s terrified face. He gave a nervous swallow, realizing what he might have to do.
It would hide his scent—
“Sorry,” he whispered quickly, hoping to convey a sense of apology before he shoved Joey into his mouth and closed his lips behind the human’s feet. 
He’d expected it to feel much stranger, but something like a shock of adrenaline burst through his chest when he got that first taste on his tongue. He didn’t have time to revel in the feeling, though—he took a deep breath and, whether through sheer luck or panic, managed to swallow Joey entirely on the first try. 
He thought he could hear the human’s shouting at first, but the sound disappeared as Joey slid further down his throat, past his collarbone, and into his stomach. 
The clawing, incessant sensation of hunger melted away as the human filled the space. 
His mind was a blur as he stood up quickly and whipped around, just as his bedroom door flew open and his father glared back at him.
“What’the fuck’re you doin’ in here,” his father slurred angrily. Christopher could smell the alcohol on his breath from where he stood in the middle of the room—it made him nauseous.
“I was getting to my homework,” he muttered quietly, averting his eyes from his father’s and instead staring just past him.
The human was moving frantically inside of him, kicking and punching at his insides—luckily not enough to hurt him, but it was still rather distracting. He did his best to keep his face even, and not betray the guilt and panic rising up within him.
I’m sorry, Joey. I should have told you it was safe. 
His father narrowed his eyes. “Quit FUCKIN’ mumbling and look at me when you talk.”
Christopher swallowed the swell of anger that rose in his chest, Joey temporarily forgotten. He forced his eyes to meet his father’s, only just barely keeping the mess of emotions contained inside of him as he forced his lips into a thin line. 
It’s not worth it to cause a fight right now. Just do what he says and get it over with.
“I’m going to work on my homework,” Christopher lied, making sure to enunciate each word clearly. 
His father’s glance swept around the room—his eyes passing over the otherwise spotless interior and landing on the clothes Christopher had forgotten to pick up earlier today, after getting home from school and changing. He was worried his father had picked up on the last traces of Joey’s scent—Christopher could still just barely smell it himself—but luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. “Your room’s a fucking mess.”
Give me a fucking break. It’s ONE change of clothes. 
Christopher could feel his own blood pressure rising, and he dug his nails into his palm. “I’ll pick it up.”
“You fuckin’ better. Whole damn house is a shitshow.”
His bedroom door slammed closed, and Christopher was once again left alone. 
He’d gotten off relatively easy today.
The pressure in his chest eased up slightly as he took a few deep breaths, calming the anger and the panic that had overtaken him. 
And then his focus drifted downwards.
He placed a hand over his stomach. Joey’s movements had slowed slightly, but the rapid beating of his own heart hadn’t. 
There’s a PERSON inside of me. 
It was such a weird sensation, to be able to feel so much movement in his stomach—he’d never noticed how sensitive his stomach was before. Was it just how it was with humans? He pressed at his own skin curiously, lifting his shirt up. There was no indication that there was anything out of the ordinary—Joey was far too small to make any sort of impression.
There was a sort of relief that began to flood his mind—a pleasant, almost hazy feeling that touched the corners of his thoughts, almost like he was floating on a cloud. And more than that—his empty stomach had calmed down, and he felt…almost full, as if he’d eaten an entire meal instead of a relatively tiny human. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten enough to feel this satiated.
But he’s fine. He’s fine. I’m not digesting him. He’s safe. It’s just a temporary thing.
The nagging voice, however, didn’t leave—what if he’d hurt Joey somehow? What if he couldn’t get him back out? What if he fucked up and—
His breaths began to come in short bursts again, panic rising in his chest. His eyes darted from the door to the window behind his bed.
He had to get out of the house. 
“Hang on, Joey,” he muttered, placing a hand against his stomach—though he doubted Joey could hear him. He climbed up onto his bed and thrust the window open. It slid upwards with little resistance, thanks to Christopher’s careful maintenance of its hinges to keep it soundless. This wasn’t the first time he’d snuck out of the house, and it wouldn’t be the last.
The rain was still coming down, though it had lightened up slightly. He didn’t care—he could deal with a little rain. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto the ground and closed the window behind him before sprinting off into the woods behind the house, taking the path he knew like the back of his hand. 
The rain drenched him, sinking into his clothes and dripping down his hair. He ran and ran, desperate to get to his place in the woods, to the only place he felt like he could actually breathe again. The wind whipped at his back, as if it was helping to carry him further and further away towards his sanctuary.
His house disappeared as he got further past the trees until he was surrounded by nothing but green and the smell of wet pine needles. The soft, rain-battered dirt beneath his feet caked on the soles of his tennis shoes, and he knew he’d have to be careful bringing them back inside later. 
Finally, the clearing came into view—his place, his little fortress out in the middle of nowhere. The trees covered the whole place like a vibrant canopy, keeping some of the rain at bay. He headed towards the trunk of the largest tree, his favorite, and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he caught his breath again. 
He slid down the trunk until he sat down against the earth, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d need to do laundry when he got home to clean all the mud off of his clothes but being far too overwhelmed to care.
How do I get him out?
He took a few slow, deep breaths. Panic probably wasn’t going to help. He tried to focus on that nice, pleasant feeling that teased the edge of his mind, doing its best to break past all the fear and anxiety that tried to tear into him.
Breathe, damnit. 
His chest rose and fell slowly, and the weight in his middle rose and fell with it. 
“Joey?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He didn’t know if the human could hear him, and he didn’t feel any sort of kick or punch in response. “I’m sorry. You’re fine, you’re not gonna get hurt. I’m…I’m gonna get you out.” 
Silence. He may as well have been talking to the trees. 
I can do this. 
He had no idea what the first step even was. No one who ate humans talked about what it was like to bring them back out, but surely…surely it just sort of happened, right? 
He tried to imagine the human moving back up his throat, contracting his stomach slightly as if he was trying to tighten his core muscles. Nothing happened—he could still feel Joey’s weight securely inside of him. 
Fuck. 
Did he have to make himself throw up or something? It wasn’t the most elegant solution, but what else could he do? 
He carefully reached into his mouth, towards the back of his throat, and tried to make himself gag. He choked and spluttered, almost doubling over on himself, but nothing came back up his throat. It felt like his stomach held onto Joey with a greedy vengeance, unwilling to let him go.
FUCK.
He began to panic again, his mind speeding up to a crescendo of anxiety that thundered in his brain. The rain fell down his face and made him shiver, getting in his eyes and making his hair hang in wet, messy strands about his face.
The human moved around inside of him again, almost agitated now—as if Christopher’s failures were freaking him out too.
“I’m sorry Joey, I’m sorry…I’m trying. I’m trying. I’ve never done this before.” 
He pressed his nails into his palms, hard, and winced at the sharp pain. He had to figure this out. He couldn’t stay out here all night. He couldn’t just leave Joey inside of him like this. 
“I just…I couldn’t…couldn’t let him find you. He would’ve…” He would’ve eaten you. Just like I did. FUCK. 
He could feel the corners of his eyes getting warmer, but the rain and the tears mixed together as they ran down his face. He only ever let himself cry out here, when he was alone—and he wasn’t alone right now, but it felt like it. All he could hear was the wind whistling through the trees and the rain that refused to let up. He couldn’t even see where the human rested beneath his skin—the only indication Joey was even there was the soft, small weight in his center that had stopped moving altogether. 
He tried to make himself gag again, but once again, his efforts proved fruitless. He clutched his knees to his chest, out of breath, choking on air. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he wheezed, his fingers clenching and unclenching around his legs. 
I can’t. I can’t do anything. All I do is fuck things up. 
His eyelids blearily fluttered open, his eyelashes dripping with rainwater and salt, and he squeezed them shut again. 
He put a hand to his stomach again, in a likely futile attempt to reassure Joey. He pressed into it slightly, feeling the human’s form beneath his touch. It was still so surreal to think about. He might have enjoyed the feeling if he wasn’t terrified and overwhelmed. 
Suddenly, though, he felt a strange sensation in the back of his throat as he pressed into his stomach. Curious, he slowly pushed even further, trying to press under where he felt Joey with his fingers, and his eyes shot open as he felt the human move upwards and into his throat.
Yes. YES.
It wasn’t anything like throwing up—the human slid up his throat just as easily as he’d slid down it. It was like his body was made for this. Despite all his struggles, this felt natural and easy. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, focusing only on the motion of his throat, placing a hand underneath the bulge that formed in his throat and helping it up towards his mouth.
He felt the human reach the back of his mouth as the flavor burst onto his tongue again—almost overwhelming in its potency, enough to make the breath catch in his throat.
He kept his mouth closed until the human emerged fully into it, and he felt tiny hands grasp desperately at his teeth as Joey pulled himself forward. 
“L-let me out. Please,” Joey whimpered—he could hear the human’s voice clearly now. 
For a moment—just a moment—Christopher considered swallowing Joey back down. He could feel the hunger rising back up in him, squeezing his stomach with sharp, clawed fingers. It begged him to keep the human inside of him a little longer, to feel that satisfying weight within him again.
No. NO. I’m not like HIM.
Christopher used his tongue to keep Joey pressed gently against the roof of his mouth as he tried to swallow all the excess saliva around him. Then, he parted his lips and reached in with a few fingers, pulling Joey out by his hands before letting the human fall soggily into his palms. 
Joey looked much worse than he had earlier—covered in saliva, shivering and huddling in Christopher’s hands, and staring up at Christopher with wide, understandably terrified eyes.
They only stared at each other for a while, both unsure of what to say. Christopher tried to shelter Joey from the rain slightly by covering him with his other hand, but it only did so much. 
“H-how the hell am I alive?” Joey squeaked, his lip trembling as he curled in on himself—as if he was trying to back away from Christopher as much as he could, despite the fact that he was sitting in Christopher’s hand, very far from the ground.
“Giants…eat humans,” Christopher mumbled, somewhat apologetic, “but not for food. Giant stomachs are safe for humans to be in. We can control our digestive systems.”
Joey blinked in disbelief. “What…what the hell?” His mouth fell open. “Why…if not for food, then—”
“Drugs,” Christopher muttered bitterly. “It’s…” his lips tightened, “kind of…a nice feeling. And, um…I guess humans taste good to giants.” His face scrunched up in apology. “But I didn’t—I didn’t eat you because of…that.” He sighed. “I didn’t want my dad to smell you. He would have…”
“Yeah, hey, I…get it,” Joey said, albeit somewhat warily. “I’m just…um…well, thank you, Christopher.” 
Christopher nodded, unsure of what to do now. He couldn’t leave Joey out here in the rain, in the wild…how did humans even survive out in the wild like that? 
He should take him home with him. He could probably hide the scent well enough…he only had to worry about his dad bursting in occasionally, but neither of his parents lingered around his room for long. He might be able to hide Joey…at least for a bit.
“Hey, uh…you good, kid?” 
Christopher’s focus got pulled to Joey again, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I’m…I’m fine.” 
“Uh…” Joey’s face took on something a little softer. Concern. “You just…didn’t sound too good. From uh. From in there.” 
Christopher shook his head quickly, reflexively. “I’m fine, really.”
Joey nodded slowly, clearly disbelieving. He looked up at Christopher, and hesitantly placed a hand against Christopher’s palm. “You know…the way your dad treats you…it’s not right.” He moved his hand back and forth in a tiny, soothing motion. “You seem like a good kid.” 
He felt his chest hitch. “T-thanks, um, Joey.” He grimaced as he stood up slowly, making sure to keep Joey well-protected in his palms to prevent the human from falling off. “I can…I can probably keep you in my room for a bit. I don’t think my parents will check for a while. And I might find something to keep your scent covered.” 
Joey nodded tersely, a new wave of fear settling into his face as he glanced down at how far the ground was below him. “I…I appreciate it, kid.” 
They walked in silence for a bit, Christopher holding the human close to his chest both to shield him from the rain and keep him from falling. 
“Um…and, hey, kid…” Joey muttered, a twinge of nervousness in his voice. “If you gotta…if you gotta do that again, because of your dad or whatever…it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He looked up at Christopher, forcing half a smile through his features. “I trust you, alright?” 
“...y-yeah. Okay.” Christopher tried not to think about the way Joey’s suggestion made his stomach growl hungrily. 
That hunger persisted all the way back to the house—and only got worse the more the human’s scent filled his lungs. 
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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Text
heartless - a criminal minds episode\\part 1
Tumblr media
part 2, part 3, masterlist
- english is not my first language pleas exuse any spelling or grammer mistakes.
- this case is made up
- it happens around the.. 6th season, i think? so the team is Hotch, dave, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and reid
- it will end up being Reidxreader kinda
The doorbell rang. Layla fixed her robe and went to the door. Her eyes were red and puffy, as she was crying for a while now. A few days ago, the body of her fiance, James, was found. They covered most of him, she only saw his face to confirm it is him. She opened the door and looked to the right, and then to the left, but no one was there. Finally, she looked down and there she found a package. She picked it up and laid it on the desk next to her phone. The senders address on the package was one she didn't recognize, and her stomach ached in anxiety and fear. What if she's next?
She grabbed her coat from the hanger near the entrance, looking for a card In every single pocket, and when she finally found it she dialed the number on it with shaking hands. She paced in her living room as she was waiting for officer Williams. He told her to call if anything comes to mind, someone who'd seek vengeance on James, or if anything suspicious would happen.
A knock on the door. “Miss Garrison, it is Officer Williams” a vaguely familiar voice called from the other side of the door, and so she opened it. She shaked the officer's hand and allowed him to step inside. Layla was stressed before, but something about the officers demeanor made her even more anxious to open the package. “Do you want any… coffee, tea, or… just water, I have some cookies as well” Layla started rumbling, trying to be a good host as she was taught to be, even tho she is hosting under horrific terms. “Maybe some tea, yeah, I'll open the package while you do that” The officer said, sad smile on his face.
He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and put them on as Layle went to the kitchen. It felt so lonely in the apartment since James’s death, and she was somewhat happy to have company. She filled the kettle up with water to boil. Her eyes traveled between closets, trying to remember which one was the one with the tea cups, and where the hell did she put the tea itself. It was all a blur, James was the organized one. Eventually she found what she looked for and placed two mugs on the counter. She had two types of tea. “officer Williams, do you prefer green tea or berrys one?” she called out, and when the answer was bearly heard, she went to the living room.
“I'm so sorry, I can't hear-” she started, but her eyes stuck on the officers horrified face. “what is it?” she asked, “officer, what-” she said, coming closer. “stay back” he ordered, “I don't want you to see this. I called forensics, this is evidence”. “Officer, just tell me what this is” Layla said, panic setting in her voice. “Miss Garrison, when we found James's body… his heart was missing. I belive this is… it” the officer said..
….
“Reid, JJ, common, new case. hotch want us all in the conference room” (y\n) calls as they pass by their desks. The rest of the unit is already there when they arrive. “James Dekota, he was engaged to Layla Garrison until he found his unfortunate death. His heart was taken, and a few days later, shipped to Layla’s door” JJ explains as the relevant photos switch behind her. “Same thing happened with Fiona Nordwick who was engaged to Daniel Clark, and Sean williams who was engaged to Winona Rock” JJ continues. “Okay, so the unsub is targeting a half of an engaged couple, what makes him choose the one over the other?” Emily says, scrunching her eyebrows. “We find that out, and we have our unsub” Dave says. "wheels up in 30" Hotch says, nodding at the team.
"okay, so, taking the heart is… symbolic, but of what?" Prentiss wonderes out loud. "well, Joe smith took his victims hearts and kept them as trophies - but that's not the case here. this unsub is not keeping the hearts" JJ says, "and he is crossing gender and race lines - he kiiled males and females, and Sean williams was black". "his motive must be something about the victims personality than, something about their behavior made him attcack them" Dave says. "well, both the male victims worked in the insurance field" (y\n) says, "williams was an administrator for Nationwide and Dekota was a technichal analist for Omega, maybe this is what connects the victims". (y\n) knew it was along shot, considering Fiona Nordwick wasn't connected to the insurence field, she was a legal secretary. "(y\n) could have a point - we should ask Garcia to check, maybe Fiona Nordwick was a part of a case connected to the insurance field" Hotch says, pulling out his phone to text everyones favorite technical analyst. Reid was awfully quiet, thoughts running throgh his mind.
"whats on your mind, pretty boy?" Morgan asks. "Well, i just keep thinking…what if we are overthinking this, you know? trying to put a complicated meaning to this when it could just be literal, if the unsub attacks people for being engaged… what if taking the hearts is symbolic? hinting they have no heart?" he says, furring his eyebrows as he puts his thoughts into words. "this could be it" Prentiss says. "good thinking Dr. Reid" Hotch says. "we should try and check if any of the victims were being unfaithful" JJ says.
the tablet on the plane was ringing, and soon enough Garcia showed up on the screen. "well, my preeties, it appears that Fiona Nordwick was handeling a case regarding an insurence company not paying up, but i hightly doubt this is the connection, since it was a long time ago and she was in the begining of her carrer, even i had to dig deep to find this".
"well, if that not the connection, what is?" (y\n) said, slightly dissapointed her idea was proven wrong. they were new to the team and they wanted to prove themselves. They knew they'll get the chance, but just wondered when. "the unsub must find his victims somehow, maybe a wedding venue they all checked?" Morgan says, "baby girl, think you can find that out for me?". "oh you bet your fine ass that i can. talk to you later, my pretty crime fighters" Garcia says, and then hungs up.
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