#this applies to my fellow human of course but it applies to everything. i need to know it ALL

[uncanny-tranny]

Please, if you have nothing else to do, please look at what is on the Golden Records, alongside the Soundcloud uploaded by NASA of the greetings recorded on the record. There is such a quiet vulnerability to knowing that these records have been created and are at the mercy of whomever finds them. I hope they love us as much as I love them.

I hope we can send more out - we deserve to be remembered, alongside this entire world. There is truly no place more special to me than this world💛

[kiame-sama]

Drag Me To Hell - (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader)

Warnings; the content warnings for Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss apply here, fem pronouns (tell me if y'all want other pronouns), mention of suicide, yandere behavior, Alastor is a truly scary yandere, mention of all seven sins, mention of being kicked out of heaven,

~~~~~~~~

"So, Darling, do we have a deal?"

You quickly woke to the sound of voices around you, your couch feeling far less comfortable than usual. Nothing around you made sense as a whirlwind of unfamiliar sights wheeled and pitched in a near nauseating way. The scents and sensations were all wrong, leaving you rather confused as to where you were and what was going on. It wasn't like Hell made any sense anyway, but you were still usually supposed to wake where you fell asleep.

"Who's the broad?"

"Why, this is (y/n)! She's the reason I don't require your services, my effeminate fellow."

"So she's your main squeeze? Didn't figure a strawberry-pimp would have a soft dame like her around."

You tensed at the sound of the familiar voice and you felt awareness run through you like lightning. Ever since you found yourself in Hell, you had become quite familiar with the voice and its owner. Like anyone who was new to the Hell rings, you had no idea that a simple deal would have endless consequences and you foolishly accepted the first helping hand offered to you.

"Honey," the radio voice was directed at you now and you wouldn't dare ignore the call of your protector and captor, "we're home!"

"Alastor..?"

"Now, Darling, don't you remember how to greet your devoted lover?"

"Sorry... Um, Love, where are we?"

"Why, the Hazbin Hotel of course! You were with me when we saw the picture show of the little Hell princess and the fiasco that was. I have offered to lend my assistance, so I took it upon myself to move the both of us in."

"Pretty sure I fell asleep long before that."

The faint crackle of a radio audience faintly played in near constant whenever Alastor was around, his bright red eyes gleaming with energy as he smiled widely. You may not have known it when you first met him, but you made a binding deal with one of the most powerful demons Hell has ever known. Sometimes you really wondered what it was that made such a chaotic beast take interest in you- a demon that was weaker than most humans- and agree to help you. Honestly, you never really had the courage to ask.

You didn't even know he was dangerous before some demons squabbling for territory decided to come after you. The very second you got a cut on your arm was the moment those demons were being dragged through a portal by some Eldritch being. It was frightening and you tried to run, only to face-plant into the warm chest of Alastor, grinning like the devil himself.

"Well, that was certainly something! Always getting into trouble, I see."

He was gone almost as fast as he arrived, leaving panic coursing through you and terror at the beast you caught the interest of. From that day on, he began showing up more frequently in your life as his interest became obsession until he was the one cornering you. In no uncertain terms he explained his side of the deal meant everything about you- loyalty, mind, heart, physical items, objects you owned, body, ect.- belonged to him and him alone.

You were bound to obey the contract of the deal, especially since he was infinitely stronger than you were in every way. It wasn't hard to get to know him and his past actions, he told you himself, after all. Because your loyalty belonged to him, it wasn't like you would be able to tell anyone else anyway.

Alastor seemed quite entertained by the simple act of having someone entirely his own that he can protect with ease and lay all troubles upon. In some sense you were like a diary for him as well as a physical being he could take his lust out on when he needed to. Of course, he used what little power you had to practically tether yourselves together. If he pulls on that 'tether' he can bring you straight to him no matter where he is or what he is doing.

"Ah, now everything is moved in. Already starting to feel like home."

"But the only thing you brought was the dame-"

"She is all I truly need!"

The radio audience 'aw'ed at his words as you slowly got up from the rough couch, trying to stretch the stiffness out of your limbs and wake up properly. After at least a few decades with Alastor, you were far less frightened of him, but there were still times he said or did something that made your blood chill.

"I must insist you are kind to her or my hands may be forced to end this friendly arrangement. And I will without hesitation."

Just like that.

For once, you wished Alastor wouldn't threaten people so much because you would rather fool yourself into thinking he was harmless. It was clear that was NOT the truth, but sometimes you could forget especially when you were isolated from everyone other than him. You almost flinched when the small blond princess of Hell grabbed one of your hands with both of hers, stars practically shining in her excited eyes.

"Welcome to the Happy Hotel! You're just going to love it here!"

In the corner of your eye you saw Alastor's grip on his microphone staff tighten, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints. Through you knew he was not becoming angry with you, you still did not want him to lash out at the kind looking princess. She seemed to actually care for those in Hell and was a mostly decent person, so you chose to pull away awkwardly with only a twinge of guilt as she looked crest-fallen.

"I- thanks for the nice welcome. I appreciate it."

It was then a woman with piercing blue eyes, white hair, and deeper gray skin stepped forward. She looked honestly surprised as if she couldn't figure out if she should hug you or stab you.

"Wait- wait, I can't feel an ounce of demonic strength from you. Usually everyone in Hell has some kind of sin that can be felt. So what makes you so different?"

"Well... I don't think you'll believe me, but... I wasn't really a bad person in life. I actually was pulled up to heaven first, but then they realized that I... I died from suicide. According to them, ending a human life- even my own- was enough to send anyone to Hell. I was thrown out and found myself here."

"So you're basically not even a demon? How in the rings of Hell did you wind up with the radio demon?"

"Oh," you glanced at Alastor to see he had no particular expression so you carefully continued, "my first hours in Hell were horrible. Everyone I encountered tried to hurt me and stole everything I had... Even my clothes. I was hiding, crying, covered in blood, behind a dumpster in an alleyway when he found me. He asked me if I wanted to make a deal to keep me safe and stop others from hurting me, I agreed."

"So he took advantage of you and forced you into a deal that you can never get out of?"

"No... No, he- he helped me and I help him. I don't regret it."

You saw Alastor's shoulders relax slightly and you knew he was calming down, taking a deep breath and pushing his growing frustration to the side. He stepped in before princess Charlie could say anything, gently moving you away from the group with an arm around your shoulders.

"Darling, how about you go pick a nice chalet out for us? I know you will choose a good one!"

Before you could respond to the order Alastor gave, Charlie quickly cut in, trying to be helpful.

"I know a great place you two can use as a room."

A part of you wanted to sigh in frustration, but you knew she was just being kind and trying to do what she could. Alastor was far less understanding of the attempt at assisting, a kind of angry blood-lust rolling off of him. You tried to think of something that would soothe the Radio Demon and keep him from lashing out in any way.

"I can go look, just to make sure, okay? After that I'll make sure the room is to your standards."

"Fantastic idea! You run on ahead, Dearest, I have some things to take care of still."

You hesitantly allowed Alastor to shoo you towards the stairs and you knew he was trying to get you to keep distance from the others and threaten them more clearly. As you left to do as your 'Lover' had requested, he turned back to the group of two females, and two males. Charlie looked confused, Vaggie seemed frustrated, Husker was drinking, Angel Dust was watching curiously.

"You know," he started, spinning his microphone staff, "I believe she is the only one who you could actually rehabilitate out of all demons."

"Really? That's amazing! Maybe she can be the first-"

"You will stay away from her. She is Mine and I will never let anyone take her away from me. She could be rehabilitated, but you will be doing no such thing or I will end this 'partnership' permanently. Also, do not think you can give her orders, because I am the only one who can order her around. She is bound by our deal to only obey me, so do not get between my commands to her again."

The air felt heavy with the unveiled threat Alastor hissed out, his grin never leaving even as he turned on his heel. His shoes clicked like hooves on the wooden staircase as he slowly ascended, pausing for dramatic effect with that endless sardonic smile.

"Now, I'm going to make sure my Darling and I settle in. Don't wait up for us."

[carionto]

I just wanna know if it'll work!

The Monolith!

A massive perpendicular structure - 1 meter deep, 4 meters wide, 9 meters tall - with a perfect 81 centimeter diameter circle cut, with its center 64 centimeters from the top.

Naomi Glasnikova was grinning like mad. She couldn't figure out where to put squares of 4, 5, 6, or 7 in the design without overcomplicating things, so decided to just forego them. It'll be fine, she's sure everything will work out just as planned.

What is the plan, her fellow scientists from the Coalition species ask? To see if placing ominous black metal alloy structures around a planet with primitive lifeforms will make their brains go "Oh, this is different, I should... *think* about it. Yes. Thinking is a thing I can do now. Thus, with the power of thoughts I can look at other things and go "Oh, what if I did this!" and make myself evolve into a civilization (once I figure out how to come up with prerequisite concepts)."

Is the inner dialogue Naomi was having. Her colleagues, both Human and Alien alike, had long abandoned the idea of trying to talk to her about her projects. She would just get into this deep staredown with you while simultaneously not paying any attention to your existence. Her mind begins to race with the possibilities, the what ifs, who dunnits, why nots, etc., and after a few minutes of complete stillness she would suddenly rush out, writing furiously on her digi-pad, often bumping into chairs, tables, walls, other people, one time she almost vented herself from the station. They put a micro-tag on her pad that would wirelessly turn off nearby lights at any intersections that didn't lead to her office. She subconsciously veers toward bright lights.

This latest monolith project came about after one of her equally eccentric interns (nobody knows where they come from, she just seems to naturally attract ones with similar brainwaves or something) showed her an ancient fictional documentary about possible technological developments in the early 21st century. The image of this simpler monolith instantly embedded itself into her mind.

WAIT! I've got it! Four groups of monoliths arranged in different patterns. The group of 16 will make a perfect square. 25 a star. 36 a hexagon, and 49 a... hmm heptagon would be too similar, and it doesn't look right no matter how you shape it.... hrrnnn No wait, a seven layer circle! One in the center, fourteen in the outermost and the rest... I'll do the math later. The areas will need to be perfectly cleared and flat too. Oh! Line patterns on the ground itself. Ones that show core scientific truths! One of the primitives will surely one day follow the lines and map them out either in its brain or on a simple data recording apparatus and see Science! They'll be so stunned! Gotta write that down, get one of the helpful people (her interns, whose names or faces she doesn't even know, yet they don't care either. Look, it's weird, but their kind of non-relationship works out somehow) to begin production. They will need to be made of non-corrosive alloys, of course. Each with a different core metal though. But then the color might change. No paint, that is an unnecessary element. Hmm... Evolution will take millennia, hopefully a few less with my help.

Last month her focus was on making a fully transparent species of frogs to see whether they would go extinct due to being unable to see their partners, or overrun the ecosystem. Nobody has seen the results of that yet.

We also don't know what she's actually a PhD of. Her diploma just says applied robotics, and it is a legit diploma from the Henderson University of Greater Estonia. But her published thesis is on viral infection vectors in sub-tropical moths. We thought she might be a fraud, but the science checks out in whatever she has put out so far. Whatever she is, she is allowed to do whatever she wants. Like most scientists out on these stations now that I think about it.

What are we even doing here, other than... Science?

Mmmm, fuck it, unlimited funding. Let's go!

[cloudy-em]

I'll Always Catch You - Adam Warlock x Clumsy!Reader

first time writing for Adam!! gender neutral reader

xxxxxxxxx

Adam was adjusting to his life on Knowhere, helping to fix the place up, taking care of the rescued animals, and learning about life. He had just finished helping a family move their furniture into their house, his strength making the process much easier than if the family had tried to move the furniture themselves. When everything was in place, he bid them goodbye, and when he began walking away, the little girl wrapped herself around his leg. He paused and looked at her confused, and she giggled before holding up a drawing for him, gesturing for him to take it. He was still a bit confused, but thanked her anyways, and carried the picture with him. He walked back to the Guardians' place in search of Y/N.

Y/N was the Guardian with which he was closest. They were always willing to make time for him, helping him with any tasks and answering any questions he had. Of course, he knew he could ask any of the others, but they were never quite as kind or patient as Y/N. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw Y/N preparing a snack, and he was glad to see them.

"Good day, Y/N," he said. "I have a question, if you don't mind." Y/N laughed a bit, turning to him. "How many times have I told you that you can just ask me the question instead of telling me you have a question before asking me?" They smiled, turning back around to finish preparing food. Adam broke eye contact, knowing they'd told him probably 20 times, but he still thought it was polite.

"My apologies, Y/N," he bowed his head. "One of the children handed me this," he lifted the drawing to show Y/N. "She wanted me to take it, and I did, but I'm a bit confused. What is it?" Y/N glanced up from the cutting board they were using, smiling at the picture.

"Children's drawings can be difficult to understand, Adam, I don't blame you!" They told him kindly. "It looks like you and the child and her family standing in their living room. Everyone's smiling, and there are hearts all over the picture. It looks like the child's way of saying thank you, Adam." He smiled, happy the child was satisfied with his work.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said. There was a comfortable silence, and Adam decided he should check in on the funny creatures with long necks. Before Quill left, he told the Guardians that they were called "giraffes".

Just as Adam was about to leave, Y/N swore loudly.

"Shit!" they exclaimed, grabbing their hand. Adam reached for them, worried for their safety.

"Are you alright? What do you need?" He asked in a panic. Y/N took a breath.

"It's okay, Adam, I just cut myself a bit. No big deal."

Despite Y/N's reassurances, Adam was still worried. He ran for the nearest med pack, returning to the kitchen to find Y/N still clutching their finger. He pulled a bandage from the pack.

"Please, allow me," he offered. Y/N nodded, holding out their hand for him. As gently as possible, he applied the bandage.

"Rocket told me that these release a healing medication every couple of hours, so leave it on for a while," he instructed. Y/N nodded, thanking him.

xxxxxx

"What'd you do next, kiss it better?" Rocket cackled.

Adam thought it would be best to notify the team leader of Y/N's injury, letting Rocket know he had taken care of their fellow Guardian. He felt proud of himself.

Apparently it was not a good idea to tell Rocket, because he was now bringing made fun of ruthlessly.

Drax wandered into the room, wondering what the commotion was. Rocket caught his breath enough to speak.

"Drax, Drax! You'll never guess what the golden boy did for Y/N!"

"What?" Drax asked.

"He took care of them for a simple cut!" Rocket tried not to laugh, "and then he kissed it better!" He broke, bursting into a fit of laughter. Drax joined him. Adam felt his cheeks flush.

"I didn't 'kiss it better'," he said softly. Drax stopped laughing.

"Oh no," he said seriously. "The humans think that kisses on their wounds make them heal faster. Y/N probably thinks you hate them."

Adam was worried. Y/N thought he hated them? There was no way, he cared for them a lot. He decided to look after them as much as possible.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Y/N was up on one of the rooftops, fixing a satellite dish that needed some upgrades. Adam sat nearby, watching. Y/N had told him once that the roofs were the best places to go for contemplation. He took their advice.

It was a comfortable silence save for the clicking that came from the dish as Y/N worked on it. Adam felt a light breeze, and despite the lack of conversation, he enjoyed their company. He liked watching their movements as they worked diligently, focusing on the task at hand. Y/N reached down to pick up a wire, but knocked it and the wire slid towards the edge of the roof. They tried to reach towards it slowly so as not to fall, but they slipped, and prepared themself for the painful impact with the ground, but it didn't come.

Adam hovered, arms around Y/N, a concerned look on his face as he brought them back to the roof.

"Thank you," Y/N thanked him, patting his shoulder.

"I'll always catch you," he told them, smiling gently.

[argumate]

(in response to a response to this post in which I joked about political parties constantly splitting; hopefully this offers some insight rather than inciting)

I am not familiar with the Party for Socialism and Liberation beyond what I read on their Wikipedia page, so I'm happy to hear they engage in worthy causes, but that alone is insufficient to exclude them from what I maintain is a much deserved roasting, along with their fellow travellers in Australia with whom I have more direct experience.

over here, the local communists can be found in front of the state library every Sunday afternoon, offering hot food, warm clothes, and revolutionary inspiration to the homeless population of Melbourne (or anyone else who happens to be passing by and wants to have an argument with them, because as with me that's how they like to make friends with people I think).

and this is a truly wonderful thing that they choose to do! feeding the hungry, clothing the cold, engaging in heated debate with the otherwise ignored, it's beautiful and it makes this corner of the world a little brighter than it would otherwise be.

I don't volunteer any of my time to that particular effort; I could say that I don't have the time to spare or that my skills don't run in that direction but really it's just that everything you do is contingent on who you know and how you know them, we are all firmly embedded in the web of social connections that define our lives and my path took me in other directions; had a few things twisted differently in university then who knows.

I do donate a little money towards housing the homeless as I believe it's a crime that this city compels anyone to sleep rough outdoors; this is a deliberate policy choice that we did not need to make and do not need to continue, it is a problem that we created and could solve at any time, and since I'm quite vocal about this I'm obliged to put up or shut up etc. and hopefully my contribution will offer some shelter to those who would otherwise be denied it.

but while some volunteering here and some donations there is certainly better than nothing, it's not enough, it's nowhere near enough! the gap between what is done and what needs to be done is staggering! it galls me, and I joke about it because things can be very funny even when they make me mad, the serious is often funny and the funny is always very serious.

when right-wing political parties fracture and begin to eat each other alive it's funny because the people involved are usually assholes, their vain attempts to spin the narrative in their favour are hilarious, and pratfalls and petty drama are just a reliable source of humour, and all of these reasons apply just as well to the scenario of left-wing political parties gratuitously shooting themselves in the dick.

however a right-wing party getting fractious is entirely on brand: at least ideologically they're supposed to believe in the virtues of individual self interest and robust competition and a war of all against all and to the winner go the spoils, so why not stab each other in the back for personal glory at the cost of the greater good?

but a left-wing party is notionally founded on the dream of overcoming what ails humanity by way of collective action, the principle that cooperation can achieve what competition cannot, that class interests supersede all other antagonisms, and in that case what the fuck does it mean when that party cannot even cooperate with itself? what is left for us to offer but derision for such monumental failure, not even to fail in a valiant but doomed fight against a powerful adversary but to be torn apart by internal contradictions (!) and the inability to unite as one despite the professed importance of the mission?

Australia never banned the Communist Party, and as a liberal democracy we can be proud of that, but of course we never needed to: it faded into meaningless irrelevancy of its own accord (a tradition continued to this day by the Greens, who if they ever catch a whiff of electoral success and the chance of actually doing something useful will promptly collapse into acrimonious debates about ending capitalism and disappear up their own arse until everybody else loses interest).

so is it funny that organisations predicated on working together for the common good keep splitting? yes of course it's funny, it's fucking hilarious! and tragic, if you believe in the goal, and think that it ever had a chance of being achieved in this way by these people.

in the meantime the rites continue to be dutifully performed but the modern infrastructure of Marxist organisation resembles little more than a pyramid scheme or an evangelical church that exists solely for the purpose of sucking in enough idealistic students to perpetuate the ideology to the next generation, while ensuring that they stay carefully isolated from any ideas that might seriously challenge the status quo (or honestly even ideas that might help to understand the status quo, a prerequisite to doing anything about it); this is also a funny situation but it's getting a little bitter, and I don't enjoy seeing so much potential go to waste.

I've said more on this topic, scattered across the past few years of posts, but I think that probably conveys the gist of it, although of course as always I'm happy to keep talking.

[gracefulchristiangirl]

I understand that the LGBT questions can get old, but as a fellow Christian I wanted to ask whether you've read Magnus chase/toa and if you could move on from/enjoy it despite the less than ideal themes?

Thanks for your message :) I actually really, really, really LOVE apologetics! I can talk about this for hours and hours, as well as a slew of any other theological questions, whether you are a believer or very hostile to my faith!

it never gets old when people are asking these kind of things with the best intentions and in the kindest way! like so far, both people who belong to the pride community in different ways were very polite and respectful in asking, so I've been more than happy to answer.

its just I don't want to get attacked in the same terrible way I have seen happen to others, so I'm VERY careful with my response, and making sure to put in my post and not in the tags for anyone who sees this and doesn't like it to still be nice. so if you disagree with me as you are reading this, you CAN comment and repost this with your arguments, just do so *respectfully*

now on to the question:

i have friends and Christian mentors who I trust and admire deeply who would answer this question both ways, and both have had good reasons and strong convictions for each.

Like I said in this post here, I think that you can enjoy art without endorsing or supporting everything the art is about, or that the author does. like when Harry Potter first came out, it was a struggle for many believers on whether to let their children read it or not, right, because there were witches in it. but over time, people saw that Rowling just used 'witch' to describe a female magic user, and it wasn't endorsing worshipping Satan or anything, so a lot more christians have joined that fandom since. (because magic in kids books isn't the problem for christians [see the Chronicles of Narnia, anything of Tolkein's, the Wingfeather Saga, and more that I'm not currently thinking of], its using magic for nefarious ends that is)

you can use a similar argument here. if you can read about Apollo thinking about his 245921859 lovers of all genders and just kinda mentally skip over it to focus on the story, you could probably read it just fine, AS LONG AS YOU ARE ABLE TO SEPERATE SIN FROM STORY. that is VERY important. so if a brand-new Christian, maybe one that struggles with same-sex attraction, wants to pick up Rick's more sexuality-supporting books, I would absolutely NOT reccomend it. if you have a hard time understanding or avoiding a sin, reading books and filling your mind with that sin, you are going to have a far harder time avoiding it/saying no to it, and you've given the devil a crack in the door for him to shove into.

on the other hand, you could apply this for everybody. sin is sin. Rick Riordian believes that he is doing a good, and the right thing, by making more kids feel welcome and loved in kids books, but at the end of the day, they are KIDS BOOKS! designed for 7-13 year olds to read, even if many younger and older fans enjoy them as well. as an older sister, I don't want my younger siblings, who are at a very young and impressionable age, to pick up trials of apollo or magnus chase and deside that they want to kiss their same-sex peers at school, or pretend to be the opposite gender because their favorite book character did it and it was cool.

because remember: the whole movement has only blown up VERY RECENTLY in the course of history. in our 6,000 years of recorded human history, was their homosexuality present throughout the whole thing? absolutely. its in the Bible! but its only been in the last 30ish years that its become a 'if you're not with us you are against us' and 'anyone who doesn't enjoy this is a bigot/transphobe/homophobe/evil/whatever'. it has gotten incredibly violent incredibly quickly. and they are actively targeting children in what they do, which means we need to protect ones who grew up in the church, and who are immersed in that culture, equally.

all of this to say, is that my Christian peers and mentors who take this view think that if we give them an inch, they will take a mile (as they already have, unfortunately), so we need to keep our convictions strong and our foundations in Christ stronger. Rick has written pjo and Kane Chronicles (which are in my opinion, his best works even if you removed the sexuality stuff from his others), and as Heroes of Olympus only has Nico as the single gay character, its not a main theme of the book, so I still enjoy it. that is three out of his five series that are well written, and its probably thousands of pages of the demigod world to immerse yourself in. I can argue that there is plenty already there to enjoy, and no need to take part in his other works.

this is a very over-explained way of saying that you have to know 3 things before you, as a Christian, decide to pick up Trials of Apollo or Magnus Chase, and other books out there like it.

am I a child? - I firmly believe that kids 14 and under should not read those works at all, no matter what, until they are more firm in their faith and understand why homosexuality and transgenderism is a sin, instead of just knowing that it is. if you don't know the reason behind the sin, how can you think through it critically? this is my only hard and fast rule on this list, for obvious reasons

am I new in my belief? - if you are a new believer (and this is a loose term, I know. some 'new believers' are only 'new' for a few months because they are constantly immersing themselves in the Word, listening to sermons *by quality pastors*, seeking the Lord in prayer and in surrender, and maybe having counciling from their pastor or from a good Christian therapist. since they are spending so much time with God and trying to please Him, they learn a lot very quickly and while they are still 'newer' to faith, they are more experienced than someone else new who maybe has been new for 2 years, but is only going to church on Sundays, and praying and reading their Bible when they feel like it. I would say that they are newer in their faith than the first person, because its about knowledge, not time. but this is a generalization) than you need to be VERY CAREFUL, with anything that has apparent sin in it. (and not just queer stuff- if you have a book that glorifies death, or stealing, or hatred against people who disagree with you, you should also not read it. sexuality is not the only sin, its the one that the world uses to attack christians the most in this modern day and age). all this to say, I would say that new christians should probably hold back for a while, until they have a firmer understanding of the why behind the sin, rather than it just is

do I struggle with same-sex attraction or gender confusion? - if yes, just don't read it. there is lots of other literature out there that are just as enjoyable, even if they are not as popular. if you fill your mind with stuff that plays fast and loose with what you struggle with, its going to be much harder for you. plant your feet on the Rock and don't falter because it is popular media. same as with any other sin! if you struggle with lust, you shouldn't watch shows with mature themes or read spicy books or go to places where you know people will be scantily clad. if you struggle with cursing, don't listen to music that curses a lot, and don't surround yourself with people who are vulgar. its not just about lgbtqia+, its about every sin ever

at the end of the day, you need to use wisdom and discretion. there is is great passage in 1 Corinthians 8:1-13 that Paul talks about this. some people in the church of Corinth are very convicted about eating food that was offered to idols, while others are not. (for historical context, Corinth was a very Greek city, and sacrifices of meat were offered to the Greek gods daily, and then they were sold at the markets for far cheaper than normal meat, which was astronomically expensive. so people were inclined to buy the cheaper meat, but felt varying degrees of conviction towards it) Paul basically says that as idols are false, there is no harm in it, but verse 9 says, 'But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block for the weak.' then in verses 12-13, 'Thus, sinning against your brothers and wounding their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ. Therefore, if food makes my brother stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble.'

i really encourage you to go read that full passage, talk to your parents/pastor/Christian mentors that you trust and who are more mature and experienced in their faith than you are to answer this question for you personally.

i personally, read the Trials of Apollo once at the library, but I have not read Magnus Chase or will read Trials of Apollo again, but that is my personal desicon I made with my personal convictions. I would prefer to just avoid it entirely than have it open a door of sin in my mind that cannot be shut.

but I'm going to turn the question back on you: based on my response and your own convictions, do you think that you personally can read it and enjoy it while ignoring the sin?

i know this was a VERY long response so thanks for sticking with me until the end :)

[alena-reblobs]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol3 Part 1

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1 Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1 Vol02 Part 2 |

Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2

My thoughts on this week’s volume! Might include some more or less comprehensible word vomits that I might try to bring into a more analyzed fashion some day!

Get stickbugged Wolfwood

(I put those two pages next to each other though I don’t know if they are on a spread) People have probably written more deep thoughts to Wolfwood’s whole arc in this fight and stuff, but I just wanted to add my own thoughts: I like how it is shown on the right how he struggles with all that he has seen till now. He thinks of Vash and his ideal to not kill, their argument, but when we look on the left...it’s like the monster in him takes over. I don’t think he sees a way to apply those ideals to himself, to NOT kill. Cornered and no way out, killing to stay alive is the only way for him to protect what he loves, and so he grits his teeth and gets this super feral look. It’s the wolf inside him!

And these pages here! We have already seen lots of proof just how good of a gunsman Vash is, but in this moment, he’s not fooling around, he’s just straight up using all his skill to beat his opponent in the most effective way. And, when on the left this piece of metal or blade is coming down right in front of his face, he’s not flinching in the slightest! Shows us how much Vash is in control right now!

Wolfwood is having half-conversations with Vash in his head.Here it reads like “Look Vash I was right all along”. This conflict between them is kinda the overall theme of Trigun in a way, since to me the manga is a lot about the idea of “what will you do for your loved ones, to protect them? How far will you go? How can you remain human/when do you lose your humanity?” (very roughly worded). And also, how you can be changed by other people! At the moment...Vash’s ideals have clashed with Wolfwood’s way of living. Will woowoo get changed by Vash’s words? It’s not so easy to just stop what you thought was the only way to go.

Hmhm Chapel is a traitor! At least acting against what Legato had ordered him to do. My who might this fellow be? (joke we all know he’s referring to Wolfwood here)

Put those two pages together to show/ask myself..did Wolfwood just shoot his bullet into the gun arm of Ninelives?? He has an insane aim, too, that’s surely not to forget. (Also I love the panel of him upside down holding the gun)

Yucky. Also, typical Wolfwood doing the splits™ .

Ok this is just a cool page and Wolfwood’s expression, pose and everything is splendid. Also really like the paneling! And in the left panel where Ninelives is in gray tone...I’m wondering if doing that, instead of painting him black, makes the panel seem a bit softer and quieter. It feels so.

Look at that contrast between these two!! In this whole fight, Wolfwood is covered in blood, guts, wounds and more blood. And then we have the fight of Vash, where it seems calm, all is whiter, no blood (because of puppets)...it just shows perfectly the role that Wolfwood has: he is the one who has to do the dirty work, in a way. He doesn’t want to, and it’s no voluntary decision of Vash to put the dirty stuff onto his shoulders, but well, he just ends up to be the one who needs to do the killing.

Oh yeah in my first reads I was so confused because I didn’t understand that the Doc was already dead and a puppet! I thought he had betrayed Vash, which, of course, didn’t really make any sense...

Sad, soggy babygirl : ( Also!! Continuing with the comparison of Vash=clean and Wolfwood=covered in blood, this only further strengthens this observation, because the water/rain is something clean by itself, washing away the dirt and all...now let’s get to the next panel:

Aaaand it’s all gruesome, covered in blood and dirt and...man I really love this comparison. It’s like the visual representation of the conflict and the argument between Vash and Wolfwood. And this page looks soo good.

I think he might be talking about himself here? He could be referring to Ninelives, but it feels to me like he’s really done here, at a weak point, and then the image of the orphanage and the kids, his mission to protect is the one thing that manages to bring a spark of life back to him.

And the orphanage is ultimately also the things that drives him to kill. Kill to protect. The morbid thing here is that the enemies that hid in the big carcass are so little, that when you don’t see their faces, they look like kids. What a cruel way to show Wolfwood’s family and kids that he wants to save, only to show him 2 panels later strangling a child-like creature.

Back to Vash: These pages are overall very confusing to read to me, but I think Leonof wants Vash to drop him (to stop the pain or to die) and so he makes a little puppet attack Vash which then makes him loose control of his hold onto Leonof.

Wow. That panel on the right, Wolfwood’s shadowed body and the tiny hand pointing upwards...and his stare afterwards. There’s a lot in this stare. Surely he’s not happy to kill. But he looks damned determined. And a bit like on autopilot, too.

And then shortly after we get the girls back, yay! You know I really love how in this series the female characters are not weak and not dependant on the male protagonists! Sure, they might not have that much firepower. But throughout the series they are shown to save the males just as much as the other one around.

[mercityart]

jason the toymaker wiping off his s/o's makeup because "they don't need it" (kinda toxic but because he's from a "different time" and likes control i think it may be fitting)

Hello! I'm going to do my best on this scenario however, it may not be exactly how you see it, nowhere near as toxic as my Jason is different from others, and no matter the time period you can always teach an old dog new tricks, it depends on how ignorant they are. This will lean more towards a comfort scenario.

Tw!! Talks in regards to mental health and poor self image, along with the societal pressures to look a certain way.

All art and writing is mine, do not steal. View my art on other socials too. To understand the characters backstories please view my character design/info charts.

-------------------"You are Perfect"--------------------   

Now, you tend to wear quite a bit of makeup, there are many reasons for this, some good, some bad. Of course you can have days where you feel like the baddest bitch in the world with your look, and other days you feel far from decent whatsoever. You are a human after all!   

Sometimes you do it to be artistic, sometimes it's to boost your confidence and sometimes you want to try and impress someone, really it varies day to day! Jason loves you, she absolutely adores every last inch of you from head to toe. Jason is a interesting fellow as they are able to see the beauty in almost everything, and that includes you.    

Jason is incredibly supportive truthfully! She loves watching you do your makeup and see how proud and happy you can get from it. He even let's you put makeup on her for fun sometimes, it's a bonding experience for her. There is a bit of an issue though. Jason loves you, not the painting you put on yourself, sure it's beautiful but she absolutely loves seeing your face clear of any makeup.    

Every night she makes sure you take off your makeup before bed, and if you are too tired she would lay you down and gently clean you up. He just adores your face, wanting to kiss you all over. Jason of course never tells you about his preference, fearing you'd leave her because you feel unseen and a argument could ensue.    

One day though, Jason's fear would be brought to the surface. There is one thing that she hates when it comes to you, and those are the days when you feel lowest about yourself; in his mind it's impossible to not see how absolutely breathtaking you are, she simply doesn't understand how you can hate yourself so much in those moments.   

It was late at night when everything went down, you at your home looking in the mirror. You were having one of those days again, the days where you feel like the most hideous human on the planet. You constantly look at new trends, try new products, follow the biggest beauty influencers! You wear makeup so frequently that in this moment seeing your own face made you feel terrible.   

When you put on makeup that morning you knew something was up, you didn't feel as confident, you didn't feel happy with your look and frankly you had a really hard time applying your makeup properly that morning, everything giving you a struggle whether it be blending your eyeshadow or getting your contour not to look patchy it just wasn't working in your favor.   

So now here you are staring at your reflection after just removing your makeup. You peer over at the beauty magazines you kept on the sink counter, confused anger and sadness boiling up inside and you began scurrying about, rapidly reapplying makeup, and honestly it was kinda messy, but in your mind anything would be better than your clean fresh face.   

Once everything is said and done you sit on the toilet lid, head in hand as you try not to cry, instead going into a dissociative state. You don't know how long you were sitting there, but you do know that you are greeted by a site you didn't want.    

Jason typically stops by your home to check on you every night and spend some quality time, allowing the both of you to talk about your day or anything else you want to talk about. This night was no exception.     He had simply walked right into your home, in the beginning she'd knock frequently but over time you two both got into the habit of him just entering the place as though it's her own; he does sleep over often so it's basically a second home to her.   

She walks calmly, leaving her shoes, hat and umbrella at the door as to keep the place clean and to avoid drenching your floor due to the intense downpour outside, a tornado warning being put in place.    

As Jason walked towards your room he could just sense something was very wrong. Upon reaching the door she slowly opens it, confusion in her eyes when he doesn't see you where you typically would be, then he heard the scuffling in the connecting bathroom, the door ever so slightly ajar so she carefully opened it and peeked around the frame, "(Y/n), my rose? What are y-"   

Her voice caught in his throat as he saw you; there you stood, completely zoned out staring at your reflection, makeup thrown about the counter and applied somewhat messily to your skin. "Oh sweetie..." He frowns, your head snapping back up to attention and catching with her gaze.    

At that very moment you simply could not keep yourself from crying, tears pouring down with the same intensity as the storm outside, smudging and streaking your makeup. Jason is quick to wrap her arms firmly around your body, keeping you close to himself as you sob.   

He gently shushes you and runs her hand in a circular motion to try and provide comfort, bringing you to sit up on the counter, clearing it with his free hand. "My love... Shhh... Shh shh shh... Hey... Oh darling, talk to me.. what troubles you so?" Her brows scrunch up in worry, cupping your cheeks in his hands as you begin to calm down enough to speak.   

"I'm s so-! I- how can you l l love me when I look like- like- this!" You flail your hands in a disgusted motion towards yourself, bottom lip quivering as you sniffle.    

"This..? You mean my absolutely breathtaking lover? The one with the deepest eyes I've ever seen? The warmest smile to ever grace my presence? The lover whom I want their body pressed flush to mine when I wake in the morning? Whom face I want to kiss goodnight before I sleep? That lover?" Jason's gaze softens significantly, never once does he avert her gaze from yours, showing nothing but sincerity.    One hand grasps your own softly, "Allow me to show you?" You don't even realize yourself nod to her, body going on autopilot, so sleepy and sad.     Jason grabs makeup wipes and takes one out, reaching towards your face but you grab her arm, eyes widening in panic but slowly you let go as she says, "trust me, (y/n)." With that he starts to oh so gently remove every speck of makeup from your face.   

Once he's finished he turns you to sit fully on the counter and face the mirror, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and rocks the both of you dude to side. "This is the person who takes my breath away every single time I see them. This is the gorgeous human I fell in love with, who I plan to spoil for the rest of our lives." He buries her face in your shoulder, kissing up your neck and to your cheek, peppering the sweetest kisses you'd ever received.    

"I know you can't see what I see... I don't know if you ever will, but just know, you are perfect. I would love you in every form you take, my precious flower. Makeup, no makeup, so long as it's you. You are the most beautiful when you are happy, not to say you aren't beautiful right now, you are breathtaking! I just prefer having that perfect smile on your face, especially wheeeen," he lightly prods and tickles at your sides eliciting laughter from you, a deep chuckle if her own reverberating from his chest. "There we are, that's music to my ears~" she coos lovingly.   

"Now, let me take care of my precious angel~" he purrs, kissing the tip of your nose as she turns you back around to face her. She grabs a bag off the counter and takes out some stuff. He squeezes out a small dollop of toner onto her finger and rubs it gently before dotting it around your face, lightly massaging it into your skin.   

She is incredibly gentle as she takes care of your skin, using moisturizer, sunscreen, vitamin D masks and more. Once he's done she kisses you lightly and turns on the bathtub, grabbing your favorite smelling candle and lighting it.    

"Jason...? Um, i- I just want to say I'm sor-" you are quickly silenced by his hand over your mouth. "(Y/n), I love you. Don't be sorry for feeling emotions. I'm here for you, and I love you. You don't have to apologies for being feeling."   

This brings tears back to yours eyes and you hug her tightly. "Thank you, I love you so friggin much."

 For more scenarios and characters please simply comment or send me it privately as an ask or message.

To support my content and view the characters design and info chart please click the link to see my other socials. You can find art and writing most easily ln either insta, Tumblr or Twitter. https://linktr.ee/Mercitycreeps

[sohelish]

Untitled

Another philosophical discussion passed in a glimpse, touching various topics while heating up here and there. Even Helena had to admit that it was tough to keep calm. Humans, she got used to navigating as it was a matter of survival since the early days. However, one could wound her pride and cause her blood to boil. Aliens were surprisingly worse when it came to discussions of a personal nature. One would assume they'd be more courteous and accepting of differences since it was on the nose - comparing humanoids to each other, especially in terms of social norms, was such a wasteful endeavour. Yet, some people were just intrusive, inquisitive and pried into the area of undeniably private. But Helena was always so "easygoing" and open-minded. Why wouldn't she share? What started as a series of mild inquiries grew into a drilling interrogation, trespassing on dangerous topics: connection, marriage… love.

At first, she had kept her cool, operating under the assumption that she wasn't being judged. Merely prodded for a better understanding of the nuisances. But as the conversation grew longer and her companion refused to stray from the original line of questioning, she started to suspect particular implications. Then, she did the unthinkable. She stated that she would, in fact, never get married. In her opinion, she committed a type of crime and uttered a lie, too definite at that. Actually, she didn't exclude the possibility of needing to acquire a spouse for whatever reason. Her little experiment revealed the truth: a cold, condescending glare, mouth tensing and forming a thin line. Traces of anger in the clenched jaw of her companion were a prelude to a lecture of a distinct length. A long and infuriating course on the responsibility she held towards humanity, the galaxy itself. The importance of social and communal, and the greatness of the term she oh-so-dreaded. Love.

Just like that, the dialogue was over, and it became a one-person show Hel didn't ask for. Although to be fair, she did suffer a tiny pang of regret at the provocation. She didn't even mean those words, after all. And she got a reaction, alright. The rest of the evening turned sour as the woman struggled to counter the arguments with utmost politeness and tact, challenging herself not to raise her voice over a certain level octave. Strangely, the other person, usually calm and collected, wasn't as restrained. Had the nerve to sound openly bitter and condescending. As if she was a foolish child putting the universe at risk with her stance. As if she wasn't applying herself in a proper manner.

The woman couldn't remember when she was this exhausted last. And the only thing that stopped the torture was a promise to consider the other's point of view. That, and also, she was quick. Jumped out of the chair and ran with a spring in her step as soon as she saw an opening. She was as diplomatic as she could've been in not offending her company. She was sure this discrepancy would be forgiven.

Hours later, in her private room, Hel couldn't help but take up meditating yet again. More often than not, she lacked the necessary time or was too tired and mistakenly fell asleep, succumbing to a different type of relaxation. But sleep rarely brought her peace of mind, and all be damned, she needed it. Deeply affected by the point of view of the other person, she struggled to reflect on everything that happened. She would expect all she'd heard from a fellow human, not from an alien. The sudden pain of misunderstanding, the harsh hit to her pride, the failure to accept her life choices…

'I define what my love is.' She muttered a mantra, refusing to give up. 'I define what my love is. It's not the same for everyone.' Sadly, she almost began to like the person who argued with her that day. That was why it hurt so much more.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

I forgot if I sent this request? But Zhongli breeding his bunnyperson lover while they’re in heat?? pleaseee?

Ask and ye shall receive! Yeah, this was the first zhongli breeding request I got so(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

-

Dragon at the Top, Rabbit at the Bottom Summary: The first time you invite Zhongli to join you in your heat, he had ran away, years later him joining you for your heat was something that was established without any need for a contract.

--

As the God of Marriage and Harvest, you had no shortage of followers and worshippers. This abundance had greatly contributed to your survival during the Archon Wars and the subsequent fall out of the Tragedy of Khaenri’ah. Of course, your affair with the God of Contracts and Lord of Geo had contributed to your continued survival as the Ancestor of the Rabbit Clan, and Liyue’s God of Marriage and Harvest.

Though you had no qualms in displaying your indomitable strength to those who would challenge you, your lazy nature and natural rabbit inclinations had led you to be neutral towards worldly affairs. In a sense, you had only interacted with the mortal world and fellow gods on a work basis, in mortal terms you were a workaholic god. Where others would have been dissuaded by your nature, Morax had been enamored.

To him, you were dedicated to your worshippers and followers. Your good work ethic was a reflection of your appreciation for following contracts. Simply put, in Morax’ eyes you had no discernable faults thus you were desirable as a lover.

The memory of him appearing right before you in that bamboo forest was one of your most interesting memories. Primarily because it was the first time you had ever seen a dragon come into a rabbit’s den in the middle of their heat. It had brought you endless amusement, seeing Morax’ calm serene eyes marred with panic once the scent of your head began to permeate the air of your den.

The outer sleeves of your hanfu had slipped over, revealing the smooth expanse of your skin, a solid evidence of your life that was devoid of hardships. At the same time it was an evidence of your strength that no one had ever been able to over power you. Your long silk like hair was spread out on the soft cool wood of your den’s floor.

“To what great pleasure, do I owe the Geo Archon to have come to my abode without any invitation?” You greeted him, eyes half-lidded with lust as you maintained control of your lucidity.

“That-I-” Morax stammered as he tried to look away from your enticing form that was sprawled out elegantly on what he could only surmise as your nest, “I would like to invite you to see the first lantern rite with me...however I had been re-” His words faded as his eyes were drawn to the rustle of clothes.

Your inner sash was untangled causing your inner robe to slip down and reveal the smooth expanse of your chest, twin red peaks perked up as you smiled at him, “You were?”

“I wasn’t aware that it was your heat…” He gulped and averted his eyes, the red tips of his ears were the only indication that he was embarrassed.

“I apologize for the intrusion, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“I would not mind if Lord Morax would stay and...help me out in my heat?” You had teasingly offered him, your red eyeliner and red lips added to your seductive charm, the twitch of your long black ears gave you a playful look.

“...” His eyes widened before he abruptly turned around and left in a hurry.

You blinked, surprised at his action before your loud laughter echoed in your den. You sank in your soft nest and hoped to see that sort of expression on his face once more.

In his abode, Morax tried to calm his racing heart, he could feel the heat on his face and the slight hardness in his dick. It was the first time he had ever been exposed to such a potent scent of heat.

“Things must be done in order…” He reminded himself as he tried to banish away the images of your alluring half-naked body from his mind.

And yet as he uttered those words, Morax could not help but remember your soft teasing voice inviting him to experience worldly pleasures. Your soft laughter and this hidden side of you somehow tickled his heart.

Liyue, 3600 Years Later

The soft moans and distinct sound of flesh slapping could be heard loud and clear within the halls of your residence. You made no effort to stifle the sounds of pleasure that Zhongli easily coaxed from your mouth. Your hair was in disarray, a tangled mess that only served to make your naked body even more erotic in Zhongli’s eyes.

Your nipples were red and wet from Zhongli’s earlier ministrations, he was truly good with using his mouth not only in sharing Liyue’s history but also in his ability to apply the exact amount of pleasure necessary to make you come from his bite alone. The twitch of your black rabbit ears with each hard thrust of Zhongli’s hip made him aware of how much you were feeling.

His thick monstrous cock was scraping the insides of your slutty hole, making you arch your body from the pleasure that emanated from each thrust that hit your sensitive spot. Your nails dragged a long line of scratch on Zhongli’s back as you came from another bout of pleasure, instinct driving you to clamp on Zhongli’s cock to ensure that his seed would be buried deep inside you.

You felt his arms hold you as your body was lifted from the soft floor of your nest. The sudden change in position gave you a micro orgasm as the head of his cock brushed past your sensitive spot.

“Why haven’t you come yet?” You mumbled in his ear, softly whining from the lack of his thick come filling you.

You felt, rather than saw, his smirk as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. His dragon part took over from his human self as he answered, “You know that this year’s heat is more potent than the last, if I spilled all of my seed inside you right now you would definitely end up pregnant, my dear.”

His sharpened nails softly went down your back, before settling on your ass cheeks and spreading it, Zhongli continued speaking, “Or is it that you want to bear my children now? Would you like that, changing from the God of Marriage and Harvest into the God of Marriage and Childbirth?”

His soft sultry voice made your insides twitch in interest, your breathing becoming hard as the next onslaught of heat came again.

“Shut u-!”

Zhongli had lifted you up and slammed you into his dick, causing you to moan and once again sink into the haze of lust. Saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth as Zhongli repeatedly slammed you, in time with him raising his hips, into his cock doubling the pleasure you felt with each thrust that had you moaning lewdly.

Each thrust had you begging him for more, uncaring of the lewd face you were making which was a far cry from your usual composed face. You no longer knew nor cared for what you were asking from Zhongli, your mind was only focused on his thick cock that repeatedly slammed inside you, hitting your sensitive spot again and again, each thrust throwing your mind deeper into the haze of lust.

Zhongli’s grunts and moans mixed with the squelch of your wet hole as his cock impaled you again and again, scraping your insides and making you long for the feeling of his thick seed.

His hand went up to your tail and squeezed it, making you moan louder just as he thrusted into you before letting a thick load of cum inside your hole right as you came. You cried his name, your arms reaching out for him, wanting to be held as you rode out your orgasm.

And Zhongli, the perfect lover that he was, obliged and held you close to his chest. Opting to rest for a moment as he kept his cock sheathed inside you. He kissed you softly on your mouth while his hands wandered through the smooth expanse of your body feeling its softness before it settled in the dip of your waist.

“Mhmm...You’re already loose enough for my next form…” Zhongli told you and you hummed softly, baring your neck as you felt him transform his body to ensure that he would be able to breed you.

Had you been outside your heat, you would have flushed over Zhongli’s handsome form, one he wore in public as Rex Lapis, but with the heat clouding your reason you could only position yourself invitingly to him. Spreading your legs wide and lewdly inviting him to take you, to breed you with all his might.

Gone was the mortal shell he wore, adorned on top of his head were two horns, his pupils had turned into the slits of a dragon, his teeth had gone sharp, his hand up until his forearm had turned into the smooth scale of a dragon.

His dick had grown thicker and longer, split into two and both were leaking thick droplets of cum that had you biting your lips in anticipation.

“Yánwáng Dìjūn” You called him sweetly, arms outstretched for an embrace and Zhongli sank into your wet hole and into your embrace.

He inhaled the scent of your heat and pheromones that smelled like sandalwood, a comforting scent that never went away from the days before the Archon Wars and its aftermath. This was your scent that never failed to bring him peace, an everlasting scent that lingered for decades.

He moaned at the clench of your hole, biting your neck as your sharp nails dragged long lines on his back. He kissed the spot he bit as your legs hugged his waist, the sensation of his two dicks scraping your insides as it gushed out slick only served to fuel your libido.

Each thrust of his hip brought you immense pleasure, hitting your sensitive spots that had you losing yourself to the haze of lust. Everything in you felt on fire as Zhongli gripped your waist, thrusting his two thick and long cocks inside you again and again all the way. His balls slapping your buttocks making obscene sounds as your wet cavern squelched from the combined liquid of your slick and Zhongli’s previous cum. The sudden loss of his cock filling you inside went unnoticed as he turned you around to lay on your stomach, ass up and presenting your wet and loose hole that was dripping his and your cum into the silk sheets of your nest.

“Yánwáng Dìjūn?”

It was all you could say before you moaned loudly from the force of his dicks slamming inside you, making his thick load of cum from earlier spurt out of your hole.

“Fuwaaa~ahn!”Your broken moans only made him grip you tighter as you clung onto to sheets for your dear life, you felt your hole clench just as the comforting weight of his body enveloped your smaller frame.

His hand wandered to your chest, pinching and twisting your glistening and reddened nipples as his cocks repeatedly thrusted into you.

“Inside me-!” You moaned as Zhongli bit you and unloaded his thick white cum inside of you. The rest of his come dribbled down the insides of your things while some fell into a puddle below your hole.

Zhongli’s pants filled your ears as he gripped you into a hug. His hand then reached downwards to your hole, scooping some of his come into his hand and presenting it into your mouth.

You opened your mouth as his fingers went near and moaned as his fingers began fucking your mouth.

“As the new God of Childbirth, you have to lead by example” Zhongli whispered as you tasted his sweet cum in your tongue, he kissed the back of your neck, “Bear my children.”

Your hole twitched in interest, as you swallowed his cum. You reached for his cocks, noting that it was already hard again, perhaps it was the from the orgasm or maybe it was due to your heat but you found yourself uttering words you would never have dared,

“How bold, for a mere element like you that merely ascended by chance to demand such a thing from a God like me.”

Soon you found yourself being fucked once more, harder and faster, feeling Zhongli’s annoyance and even then you knew that he was still holding back. Nothing like the beast that he truly was beneath the years of knowledge he had gained from achieving the pinnacle of cultivation.

He chanted your name as he impaled his cocks in you again and again, making you throw away all your aloof dignity as you moaned and begged him for more, begging him to fill you up with his seed and show his might.

Zhongli didn’t stop thrusting as you came again and again from his cocks, he didn’t stop even when he came losing himself to the thought of breeding you and dominating you.

His cocks didn’t stop filling you and when your hole couldn’t take it anymore, he fucked your mouth, repeatedly thrusting his two cocks and spurting his come down your throat multiple times as your hole twitched from the jade pillar he had plugged it with to keep all his come inside.

Your face was stained with his come, some of it staining your hair. Your belly was filled with his come and Zhongli had shown no signs of stopping anytime soon. As you felt him come for the nth time you slowly felt your consciousness slip away, the edges of your vision darkening as you tasted the familiar sweet taste of his come fill your mouth.

‘Ah~ I really provoked this dragon this time~’ You thought with mild amusement.

You were quite sure that once your heat was over, you would end up pregnant with his child.

When Spring arrived in Liyue, the entirety of Liyue Harbor found the esteemed consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Zhongli, holding a visibly pregnant lady in his arms. Their belly was large and round, showing despite the considerably loose hanfu they wore but the most eye catching part was the possessive and caring way Mr. Zhongli cared for his pregnant spouse.

From the tips of their inky black hair to the pearls and gems that adorned their rabbit ears, the citizens of Liyue knew that Mr. Zhongli would have a litter of children. He had after all impregnated the most and highly esteemed race descended from Liyue’s God of Harvest and Marriage.

Unbeknownst to the town people, and only known to those who had a sharp sense of smell, the state of your pregnancy did nothing to stop Zhongli from breeding you repeatedly every night, everyday and in every opportunity that was presented to him. Even now as he assisted you in taking your daily walk in the boulevard, Zhongli was pleased by the flush on your cheeks.

It was after all the sign of you feeling the slow drip of his come from him fucking you earlier in one of Liyue’s seedy alley. His adepti powers concealing the act from everyone.

“I can’t wait once you give birth” He whispered into your ear as he hugged you from behind.

Your heat was long over, but the feeling of his cock as he discreetly rubbed it against your ass made you feel like it had returned.

“Mmmm...it’s going to be a long winter then…” You replied absentmindedly as you leaned on his chest. You felt your hole twitch in interest as Zhongli’s hand slipped underneath your skirt, you bit back a moan, pretending that nothing lascivious was happening. Idly, as Zhongli began preparing you for another round of breeding, you remembered that dragons had heats too.

And as you felt his cocks enter you easily, you lost your train of thought and fell into the haze of pleasure as Zhongli fucked you again.

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Sorry for my english using a translator.I really enjoy reading the way you write about Enjou and I was wondering how he would react if he was really pregnant. True, minus hot sex for 9 months, how would these hot monsters manage for this period.

hi hi anon!

oh don't worry about it! you're doing amazing!

hmm, so i may not be incredibly knowledgeable when it comes to anything medical, but i still remember when my sister was pregnant with my now niece ( she's a squirt but i love her ) and she handled it pretty well from what i could see, but i do know that it can be incredibly difficult and hard-work, and has many complications.

pregnancy below!

so let's get this out of the way; you can still have sex while you're pregnant. for some women, their sex drives will either go through the roof or it will lower; it tends to fluctuate. the penis cannot enter the womb where the baby is growing, so having sex while pregnant is completely fine, but both parties must be completely okay with it and consent.

this may still apply when impregnated by an abyss lector, however, seeing as we have no idea how their biology works, we can only speculate. so obviously you'd show symptoms of pregnancy, tummy swellings, etc. so obviously abyss mages can grow into abyss heralds/lectors, so you'll probs begin birth to something along those lines, however, they may be able to have both an abyss lector and human form, but not needing spells to transition into the other.

as for enjou, he'd try and handle everything for you; your sudden and strange food cravings, your increasing and decreasing libido, and obviously any weight gains and tummy swellings. he's of course ecstatic to start a family with you and does his absolute best to take care of your health, but he will have to make sure that his fellow exegetes ( idfk how to spell anymore ) don't get their hands on you; he does NOT need them slaughtering his very much pregnant wife thank you very much. at least the abyss highness was gracious enough to get them to back off, they still have a heart at least. you're provided with a comfortable environment, and a very flustered and hard-working abyss lector pampering you at all times.

as for the sex, now that enjou found out he can still side himself past your folds ( poor guy thought he'd hurt the baby ), he takes it much slower, since he knows how utterly big he is. but he doesn't expect your horniness to go through the roof at times, and it puts his libido to shame. he doesn't mind, he absolutely enjoys it, but he manages to reign himself in enough where he still manages to be soft with you. so yes, he won't be fucking your brains out as much, but he will be making love to you a lot more, and it's so sweet and wholesome,,

and he'll often be found caressing the swell of your belly, stroking it gently, and nuzzling it when he has the chance, and the guy gets so happy if he feels the baby kick; he's like a puppy getting a treat. if you feel tired from having all this extra weight and walking around for exercise, he'll carry you, no questions asked. he has the strength and willpower to do it, so there's no stopping him.

he's honestly such a dork, but he's gonna pamper and spoil you during the pregnancy and will research and get anything you need, as well as trying to see if he can make any accommodations for your child. it's really heart-warming.

[winterscaptain]

advocate.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the very first part of ajf! the beginning of our story! oh my goodness! this got a little long, but there was a lot i wanted to pack in here. thank you all for your patience as i worked through this <3 i’ve got some fun graphics in here for you - open them for best quality!

words: 8.45k warnings: language, alcohol use, canon-typical descriptions of injury and violence, mention of suicide

summary: “our ambition should be to rule ourselves, the true kingdom for each one of us; and true progress is to know more, and be more, and to do more.” - oscar wilde. au!july-september 2007

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

“Director Shepard?” 

You approach her, feeling very young, with a question and a smile. 

She turns, smiling at you softly. “Yes?”

Her lecture was immaculate - she covered a broad swath of topics - being the first female director of NCIS, her history in international relations and liaison work with British and Israeli intelligence - all of which paved a bit of a roadmap for success in federal law enforcement. 

You introduce yourself and shake her hand. “I’ve gotta tell you it was a challenge to choose between agencies in my applications, I admire your work both as an agent and director of NCIS and I was wondering…” 

You lose your nerve a bit, but steel yourself again and ask. 

“... Would you be willing to meet with me and talk about your career trajectory a little more?”

There’s a light in her eyes as she studies you with a kind of supreme benevolence and gentleness. “I would.” 

+++

“Alright,” she says, setting her napkin in her lap. “What do you want to know?” 

You laugh a little, “Is everything a good place to start?”

She laughs, and you’re immediately drawn to her warmth. There’s a kind of fire in her, and it doesn’t just come from her hair. “Not at all. Though I’ll give you some unsolicited advice now, to save some time. Find someone you can follow, someone you can learn from.”

She goes on to tell you about her mentor, still on the Major Case Response Team under her purview at NCIS. Though she’s his boss now, she tells you that she still goes to him for advice, for friendship. 

“Trusting the people you work with always comes first. It’s not always possible, but when you can manage it. It makes everything better. Always protect them where you can, and don’t ignore the politics”

You do everything except take notes as she tells more stories, how she’s switched from “probie” to Agent to diplomat to Director, before she turns back to you. 

“Do you know which unit you’re interested in, yet?” 

You shake your head. “Not yet. I’m hoping I’ll have a better idea when the Quantico unit chiefs start coming in to lecture. I’m hoping one of them will catch my interest.”

“Great idea. When one of them does, give me a call. I think any unit could benefit from someone like you.”

+++

Agents Hotchner, Morgan, and Gideon have your attention the moment they step into the room. They’re confident, with a sharp kind of intelligence you admire. 

The world of the BAU is fascinating. Serial killers, sex criminals, the very worst of depraved humanity is their everyday. While it sounds somewhat horrifying, it compels you. 

Agent Hotchner especially catches your attention. He’s confident in a kind of serious, bladed way. Clearly intelligent, he commands the attention of everyone in the room and effortlessly wields his authority among curious students and his fellow agents. 

You’d think Agent Gideon would be the obvious leader, what with all his years of experience and seniority, but even with his grasp of a field he shaped, he doesn’t hold a candle to Hotchner. 

With your half-hour-old knowledge, you put together a quick profile of the remaining figure. 

Agent Morgan, while strong and clearly an alpha male, brings a skepticism with him. It hangs in the air around him and seems to apply to both of his colleagues. There’s something about Agent Gideon that makes him uneasy, distrustful. He tends to shift his weight away from him when they get too close to each other. 

He’s not overt about his skepticism regarding Agent Hotchner, but you get the idea there’s more under the surface you couldn’t possibly know just by studying his behavior in a lecture hall. 

This is fun. 

You hide your smile in your notebook, jotting down a couple of notes as Agent Gideon continues his “brief overview of profile-driven serial killer arrests.” 

+++. 

“Director Shepard’s office.”

“Hi Cynthia,” you greet her secretary. “Is Director Shepard in?”

She connects you, and you ask about the BAU. 

“Is Jason Gideon still the unit chief over there?” She asks. You can already hear her typing and you’re more than a little concerned about her tenacity in this moment. 

“No, ma’am, it’s Agent Hotchner, now.”

“Perfect.”

+++

+++

You’re called into SSA Radner’s office the following Monday to “discuss some changes to your academy courses.” 

That doesn’t sound good. 

SSA Radner, an imposing and intimidating woman, is the SSAIC in charge of your NAT class - the person in charge of your collective fates. 

No pressure. 

She opens the door when you knock, gesturing to the chair on the other side of her desk. “Please, have a seat.” 

You chuckle nervously. “Thanks, Agent Radner.” You note her little smile as she sits at her desk, and chance a question. “Have I done something, I dunno, wrong? We don’t seem to find much good news in the SAIC’s office at my rank.” 

That pulls a laugh from her. “I wouldn't worry too much. I have a proposition for you. It’s...unusual, but not unheard of.” 

Your brow crumples a little and she exhales. 

“It might actually be better if - yeah. Hold on.” She clicks her intercom and her assistant chirps from the other side. 

“Yes ma’am?”

“Please send them in. I’d like to do a joint briefing.” 

Joint briefing? What is this, the third invasion of Iraq?

The door opens behind you and you whip around, finding Agent Hotchner and IOS Section Chief Erin Strauss. 

What the fuck? 

Either you’ve done something terrible or insane and you’re not sure which. 

Chief Strauss addresses you first, shaking your hand. You introduce yourself for good measure but have a feeling she already knows who you are. 

“It’s come to our attention that you have ambitious interests and are taking exceptional steps to make the most of your education and training at the academy. Is this a fair assessment?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Agent Hotchner steps forward, sort of looming over you with something that isn’t quite a stern look. You take his hand when he offers, introducing yourself and ignoring the jolt of energy that shoots up your arm at his touch. 

His handshake is firm, his hands dry and warm. He looks different up close, younger, maybe. There’s the barest touch of grey at his temples, the beginnings of lines around his mouth and eyes. 

Not what I expected.

What did you expect? 

How old could he be? Thirty-five, maybe? 

Shut up. 

He’s handsome. 

Shut up!

His face relaxes a little bit before he speaks. “Director Shepard, a close professional colleague, has been a staunch advocate for you and your talents. She approached me about taking you on, giving you case hours in lieu of some coursework.” 

“You’d have some catching up to do, as it’s already three weeks into your twenty, and we’d transfer you into the profiling classes,” Agent Radner adds. “But with your diligence, I doubt you’ll have trouble with the added workload.” 

“No, ma’am. That should be fine. But,” you look between the three of them, “what does ‘case hours in lieu of some coursework’ mean, exactly?” 

“You’d be on assignment with the BAU until you received your formal assignment following successful completion of the academy, with the possibility of assignment with the BAU as a full-fledged agent.” Chief Strauss rattles off the information as if it’s the thousandth time she’s said it. 

It might be. 

You can’t even fathom how much effort and time must have gone into this decision. The realization leaves you speechless. 

She prompts you again. “Does that sound like an opportunity in which you’d be interested?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” You feel a little stupid, but you’re rewarded with a proud smile from Agent Radner. 

You could also swear you saw a twitch of Agent Hotchner’s lips, but he doesn’t seem to be a man who smiles much. 

+++

“So this’ll be your desk,” Agent Jennifer-but-my-friends-call-me-JJ Jareau says, pointing to one of the many desks in the bullpen. 

You set your bag down with a little smile, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. 

Agent Morgan pats your shoulder as he passes your desk. “You’ll do just fine, kid. Ready for a case briefing in ten?” 

“Sure.”

His blinding smile eats up his whole face and you like him already. He’s different than you thought he’d be, but you still don’t think your preliminary profile was too far off.

Agent Gideon, still holed up in his office, has yet to acknowledge you. 

Your eyes keep wandering to the open blinds, behind which Agent Hotchner and a woman you understand to be his wife have a quiet, apparently heated argument on either side of his desk. Except for the tight set of her mouth and the angry glint in her eye, she seems lovely. 

Derek follows your gaze. “Wasn’t always like that.” 

You look at him, a little furrow in your brow. 

Should he be telling me this?

“She’s not always here either, but their son, Jack, has been sick, so it’s been… tense.” Derek shakes his head. “You wouldn’t catch me married in this job, not once.” 

That pulls a laugh from you. 

Emily, sitting at the desk beside you, turns in her chair. “Remind me to drink to that later.” 

Derek snorts and picks up a couple of files, headed up to the round table room. 

+++

Your first case briefing is, well...brief. The case seems fairly straightforward and you run through relevant vocabulary while JJ outlines the case details. 

Preferential offender, keeps his victims for no more than three days, victims found in public places. 

He wants them found, and fast. 

Need-based, maybe? What are his priors? 

You’re all dismissed with a brisk, “Wheels up in thirty.” 

You pack your things a little slower than probably called for. Hotch disappears into his office again, closing the door behind him. When you pass the window, his wife is tucked under his chin. 

Hotch’s eyes flicker to yours and you quickly train your gaze on the floor, hustling down the stairs. 

+++

You land next to each other when you board the plane. You do your best to avoid taking anyone's assigned seat. 

With a team of this size, you can only assume they have such things.

And they do. 

Gideon, Spencer, Morgan, and Prentiss take a seat at the table while JJ perches on the arm of the couch. 

Hotch settles at the informal “head” of the table, leaning on the chairs across the aisle. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the row next to him, trying to stay out of the way. 

“C’mere, kid,” Derek says, beckoning you forward. “You’re on this team.” 

You shuffle forward in your seat, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees and case file open in your hands. “I’m ready.” 

JJ smiles at you, and you almost feel comfortable. 

+++

You end up alone with Hotch in the precinct conference room after you land, unboxing files and sorting them for Spencer. Until you know enough to make yourself useful, you’ve made it your mission to handle the tedious and the clerical. 

Hotch pauses every once in a while as if he wants to say something. You continue on your way. When he’s ready, he’ll stop you. 

“I’m sorry about earlier. My wife, Haley, she -” 

You look up, waving him off with a little smile. “It’s okay, Hotch. It’s none of my business.” 

He looks at you for a minute, studying your face with a bit of a squint. “You mean that.” 

It’s not a question. 

You’re confused. 

“Of course.” A nervous laugh leaves you. “I mean, you’re welcome to tell me if you want, but it’s nothing I need to speculate or gossip about or, God forbid, profile.” 

The shock and relief war on his face until it settles back into something that looks like his usual severity, but a little softer. He doesn't say anything else, but you have the sneaking suspicion you passed a test neither one of you prepared for. 

Spencer and Emily return from their trip to the medical examiner’s office. 

“Who organized these?” Spencer asks, pointing at the neat piles you made. 

“Me.” You look up from another box you’re working on. “Would it be helpful if they’re sorted another way? I went chronologically and then by number and type of offenses, with preferential offenders that match the M.O. on top, when possible.” 

Emily, Hotch, and Spencer freeze, staring at you like you grew another head in front of them. 

You’re suddenly and violently self-conscious. “What?”

Spencer snaps out of it first, shaking his head and picking up a stack. “Nothing that’s just...um…”

“Exactly right,” Emily supplies. She glances at Hotch before looking back at you. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

Hotch is the last to break, but the curious little glances he keeps throwing your way always linger a little too long. 

To your credit, you ignore them. 

+++

“So, how are you liking it so far?” Derek slides into the driver’s seat and rolls out of the parking lot. 

You’re headed to another witness’s house under direct orders to observe and as a few (carefully directed) questions. Derek insisted on bringing you himself while the others keep busy with something else. 

“I’m liking it,” you reply. 

He laughs. “Coulda fooled me.” 

You screw up your face and look over at him. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” he says through a laugh, “when you’re not making yourself ridiculously useful, you look terrified.” 

“I am terrified.” 

“Nothin’ to be scared of as long as you keep asking questions,” he says. 

It’s almost like he doesn’t know how ridiculous he sounds. 

“You’re joking, right?” You turn to face him, shifting in your seat. “Agent Morgan -” 

He cuts you off. You’re pretty sure that’s just how he is - he interrupts the other members of the team frequently and fearlessly. “- Derek. Or Morgan.” 

“Fine. Morgan, you have to know that your team is legendary. I don’t even know why -”

“- Don’t say it.” He flags his hand before putting it back on the wheel. “You’re here for a reason, and none of us are going to let you fall so hard you can’t pick yourself up, okay?” He glances over, meeting your eyes. “We’ve got your back.” 

You quirk a smile. “Thanks.” 

“And,” he adds, “Hotch seems to like you alright. That’s half the battle.” 

“What’s the other half?” 

He snorts. “Gideon. And local law enforcement.” 

+++

You settle in a little easier after that. JJ’s your next target as you help her make some calls to the D.A.’s office. 

You hang up and take a breath, slumping back in your chair. It’s been a long day already and it’s not even lunchtime. 

“Hanging in there?” JJ asks, smiling at you over her files. 

You nod. “Yeah. Just a… different kind of energy than the academy, I think.” 

“I felt that way when I got here, too. Gideon was unit chief back then and Spence had just started, too.” She huffs a laugh. “It was a little easier when there were more newbies, but then…” Her face clouds over and she shakes her head. 

“Then...what?” 

She looks up at you and her mouth twists. “Boston.” 

+++

“Hey, Derek?” 

“Yeah?” He keeps his eyes on the road, but he can hear the trepidation in your voice. 

The dark interior of the car feels safe in the early hours of the morning, headed back to the hotel. “You said I could ask you anything, right?” 

His eyebrows pinch. “Shoot.”

“What happened in Boston?” 

Derek takes a breath and lets it out in a whoosh. “I wasn’t there. I was supposed to be there.” 

You wait on him, watching him watch the road. 

“Unsub holed himself up in a massive warehouse. Gideon called in all the support he could - A Team, B Team, SWAT, the whole nine. I was visiting my mom in Chicago for her birthday like I do every year.” 

He stops at a red light, and you take a moment to look past him into the adjacent SUV, where Emily and Hotch’s profiles rest in a statuesque silhouette, backlit by the streetlamp. 

“It was a trap from the start. Everyone pushed in on Gideon’s order and the whole thing just…” He tosses his hand up and it lands with a smack on the leather steering wheel. “It just went up. Boom. Six BAU agents in our unit, dead, just like that. Had to rebuild from scratch.” 

You shiver, though the car is warm. “I’m so sorry, Derek.” 

He shrugs. “Gideon took six months off, Hotch took over. Gideon came back, Hotch stayed up front.” He smiles a little. “Haley wasn’t happy, but that’s the job.” 

Why does it always come back to Haley? To Hotch? 

Because he’s the unit chief. 

I know but…

Don’t read into it. 

You decide to push, just because it’s Derek, because he seems to know, because you feel safe with him, because it might be a mistake. “Is that what you meant?”

“Hm?” His head turns just a little toward you, his brow furrowed. 

“You told me on my first day ‘It wasn’t always like this.’ Is that what you meant?”

“No sane man would take on the unit chief position with a wife and baby on the way.” He shrugs and with a secret little smile says, “But nobody ever accused Hotch of being sane.” 

+++

Aaron sits in front of his computer, the end of his pen tapping on the glossy wood of his desk. 

Does he have feedback? He’s not sure. 

Even with your limited knowledge, you’ve managed to optimize most of the administrative bullshit and political nonsense that clogs most local investigations. You bounce between acting as his shadow and JJ’s, making friends and soothing hurts when toes inevitably get stepped on. 

You’ve immediately adapted to his style of criticism and correction, using Derek and Spencer as guide-rails when you’re not sure where you’re going. 

There’s nothing to complain about. 

But then again…

Feedback isn’t just about the negative. 

If he’s honest with himself, he knows he won’t shower you in the glowing praise you deserve. Gideon never did for him or anyone that came after. 

It’s not in their nature, or his. 

He starts to type. 

Glancing out his office window, his eyes find you hunched over your desk, poring over one of Spencer’s notebooks, a pinch in your brow as deep as the Grand Canyon. 

You work hard, impossibly hard. You throw everything you have at your work in the field while managing your courses and keeping up with your classmates. 

That in mind, he drafts an email to Jenny. 

With a sigh, he sends it.

He’s still thinking of what you said on the last case, the genuine truth of it, and how many times he has done his best to preempt the gossip that plagues this office, no matter who it’s about. 

This unit, as much of a family as it may be, constantly wraps itself in the business of everyone else. To know you couldn’t give less of a shit about his marriage when the rest of the team (save Gideon) probably has money on when Haley calls it quits is, admittedly, refreshing. 

+++

After being in the field, classes take on a new kind of banality. You’re keeping up well enough, but watching Gideon and Derek quarrel over the details of a profile beats diving into the techniques - you guessed it - Gideon developed from cases past. 

Hotch and Garcia were gracious enough to CC you on emails while you were grounded at the academy, but it wasn’t the same. 

It was hard not to feel left behind, like the last kid chosen for dodgeball in PE class, watching the rest of the unit leave the office. You hung back in the bullpen as long as you could find something to do this morning, making it to class at the very last minute. 

Even after lectures, your classmates want nothing more than your attention. You’re suddenly consulting on three different practicals and never have a lunch to yourself.

Most afternoons, you sneak into the bullpen just for some peace and quiet. 

You hear your last name and look up, finding Erin Strauss approaching you. You stand. “Ma’am.”

“What are you working on?”

You look down at your desk, finding practical and theoretical exam notes shuffled around next to mock consults and other nonsense Hotch dropped on his way to the jet earlier in the week. “Course work, mostly. It’s nice to… get away every once in a while.”

Erin nods with a little smile. “I’d imagine you’ve been pretty popular lately.”

You shrug, a little facetious. “You could say that.”

She pays your shoulder in a surprisingly maternal gesture, before wishing you luck and leaving you to your work. 

At this point, you can’t even imagine just being an FBI agent. 

+++

You’ve just closed your burning, tired eyes when your phone rings. 

You answer, your last name a grumble into the mic. 

“It’s Hotch.”

You sit up straight in bed, immediately awake. “Sorry, sir, I -“

“I should apologize. I don’t mean to interrupt your studying or wake you but I think I could use your opinion on this profile.”

You frown in the dark, flipping your desk lamp on. “My help, sir?”

“Yeah.”  He heaves a sigh and you can almost see the fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been looking at it too long.”

“Maybe Derek, can -“

“No. You. Here, listen -“

He rattles off the details of the case and you snatch your notebook and pen off the desk, jotting things down as Hotch continues through the case. 

“Have you identified and contacted local individuals who fit the victimology, taken steps to protect them? He’s a preferential offender with a predictable cooling-off period, right?” 

For some reason, this isn’t half as exhausting as the practical exam practice you’d been working on for the last five hours. You may or may not have written those exact questions about fifteen times, but it’s far less exhausting when directed at Hotch. 

“Yeah. Two high-risk victims are in protective custody and JJ’s been in touch since this morning.”

You go through a few more basic questions, getting your feet under you, before asking the one you’re really after. 

“Sir, why did you call me?”

“I needed another set of eyes.”

You huff a laugh. “No, I gathered that, but why did you call me? I’m in the middle of learning about something you’ve been doing for…” You search for a number, but your brain is fried. 

“Too long,” he supplies. 

“Sure. But my point stands.”

“That it does.” Something creaks in the background and you imagine he’s leaned back in his chair. 

“Did I help?” You’re happy he can’t see your dubious, if not entirely doubtful, expression. 

He’s happy you can’t see the little fond smile on his face. “Yes, actually. You did.”

+++

“Wheels up in thirty.” 

You all stand from the table and start your routines. Emily and Spencer make a beeline for the coffee machine while JJ jets back to her office for contact sheets and files and all manner of coordinating materials. 

Derek’s routine is simple enough - he already has his coffee and his go bag, so he’s answering a few emails before wheels up. 

You never really know what to do during this liminal space, so you stick to classwork. 

Much to your surprise, you’ve shot ahead in your classes on the shoulders of Derek and Spencer. They’ve been monumentally helpful with the history and application of profiling techniques (though much of Derek’s advice has been ‘just watch Gideon,’ you’re not sure how to watch a process that takes place entirely inside the man’s head). 

You ride with Hotch to the airstrip, looking out the window most of the way. It’s only a five minute drive, but the tree-lined roads around Quantico are always lovely this time of the morning. 

As always, you do your best to stay out of the way on the plane, taking up residence on Hotch’s right with your notebook and case file. 

You offer some thoughts here and there, not pushing too much or saying enough to make an ass of yourself. 

When Hotch calls break, the rest of the team scatters to their respective corners. 

Gideon turns to you, gesturing with one finger. “Hey, ah…” 

Spencer chirps your last name from across the cabin and you shoot him a grateful smile. 

“Good job in the briefing, today.” 

And with that, he disappears to the far side of the cabin, leaving you and Hotch alone by the table. 

“Wow,” you say with a little smile. “I didn’t know he was aware of my existence.” 

Hotch doesn’t say anything, but his lips twitch. 

Success. 

+++

“Welcome back, kiddo!” Derek offers you fist and you bump your knuckles against his on your way back to your desk. “How’d those exams go?”

You huff, playing at defeat. “Oh, you know.” 

“Don’t worry about it. There’s always next time.” 

Hotch, returning from a meeting with Strauss, hardly looks up from the file in his hand when he says, “Well done on your exams. SSA Radner threatened to hang your marksmanship targets on her wall.” 

You hide a smile. “Thanks, Hotch.” 

“Not fair!” Spencer says, tossing another Tums in his mouth. “I never passed those.” 

“Then how on earth do you have that, Reid?” You point at his six-shooter, still clipped to his hip. 

“Wait wait wait,” JJ says, dropping her files and crossing her arms. “You haven’t heard that story?” 

Your eyes flicker from Derek, to JJ, to Spencer, and back. “...No.”

JJ settles in, regaling you with a wild tale of an L.D.S.K. - 

“You remember what that stands for, right?” Derek points at you and you have a feeling this is about to become some kind of pop quiz. 

“Yeah. Long Distance Serial Killer.” 

“Good. Famous unsubs include…?” 

You sit back in your chair with a little smirk on your face. “D.C. Snipers Muhammad and Malvo, active October 2002, seventeen victims total. Apprehended by agents from the FBI Baltimore field office -” 

Derek holds up a finger. “And?”

“- and the BAU and the Maryland State Police.” 

“Good.” 

JJ waits for Derek to nod at her and she continues what you imagine to be a rather embellished version of a story in which Hotch and Reid save the day.

“...And then Hotch just starts kicking the shit out of Spencer -” 

Hotch’s office door shuts and he sails down the stairs with one of those little secret smiles. “This one ends with Reid stealing my sidearm and shooting the unsub in the head.” He taps right between his eyebrows in the barest of pauses on his way out of the bullpen. “Dead center.” 

Derek and JJ groan, both whining about how he ruined the punchline before devolving into a fit of giggles. You can almost see the smirk on his face as he pushes through the glass door and turns the corner. 

You join in the mirth, ruffling Reid’s hair. He smiles widely at you. 

Maybe you could just get used to this place.   

+++

The second round of classes on top of added case hours (you’re traveling with the unit more often than not) nearly brings you to the brink. 

On the plane back to Quantico, you realize you can’t remember the last time you actually had a full night of sleep. 

The rest of the unit is out cold, curled into themselves or stretched out under blankets, save for Hotch and Gideon. 

Gideon’s writing in that wretched notebook again, entirely focused on his work under the weak reading light. 

Aaron sits beside you on the other side of the cabin, looking over a few files before returning home. You watch him check his watch, sigh, shrug, and pull out his phone. To your surprise, he doesn’t move to give himself space as he calls his wife. 

“Hey, honey, it’s me… Yeah, we’re on the plane. Should be back within the next hour and a half... “ 

He sighs and tightly closes his eyes. “Haley, please… Yes, I know Jack’s already asleep… Are you implying I didn’t do my damnedest to - Then what’s your point?...” 

His voice never once rises above a low murmur. It’s impressive.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can… No, I won’t pass ‘Go’ or collect two-hundred dollars or step foot into my office… Yes. Plane. Tarmac. Car. Home… Yeah… Love you too.” 

He snaps his phone shut and leans back, tipping his head against the headrest.  

You stay quiet, continuing your review of S.S.A. Bailey’s course on, ironically, conflict de-escalation. 

Hotch takes a talking breath and you look over at him, keeping a kind of soft understanding on your face - really, shooting for anything that isn’t curiosity. 

“I appreciate your…” He looks for a word. “Discretion.” 

You laugh a little down your nose. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s none of my business?”

“How many times do I have to imply that a phrase like that isn’t in the vocabulary of this team, usually?” He shifts a little, and you notice his thumb, running along his forefinger like he’s searching for bone. 

“Is it really that bad?”

Hotch raises his eyebrows, and you relent. 

“Fine.” You drop your voice. “Do you want to know what I’ve seen?”

He shrugs. “An outside perspective might be nice.” 

You keep your eyes on your book as you speak, keeping your volume low and your tone as neutral as you can. 

“I’ve seen how Emily worries about fitting in - I can’t help but relate. This team is a family and it’s… hard to break through that sort-of-wall to the outside world.” 

The prickly feeling of his eyes on you isn’t altogether unpleasant, but you still haven’t grown used to it. 

“Derek and Spencer are worried about Gideon and,” you glance at him briefly, “so are you. Everyone seems to want to know why, but I don't think that’s always useful.” 

Hotch hums once, maybe in agreement - you’re not too sure. 

You are sure, though, that this was a test. 

“How’d I do, Counselor?”

It’s never too early to invoke the J.D. hanging in a frame behind his desk. It was the first thing you noticed and suddenly, a lot more made sense. 

You’re rewarded with a small smile. “Not bad. Though you did forget to drop in the little bit about my marriage.” 

“I didn’t forget,” you assure him.

“No?” 

“No. I figure if you have something to say, you seem like the kind of person who’d just say it. At least,” you shrug, “that’s my impression.” 

He’s quiet for a minute before he squints and looks over your shoulder at your reading. His brown eyes track down the page before returning to yours. He’s close to you, but you’re not uncomfortable. 

Hotch is...safe. Somehow. 

“There’s a reason you’re the exception. Not sure what it is yet,” he says. “But there’s a reason.” 

“What?” 

He leans back, a cryptic little smile on his face, and says nothing else for the rest of the flight.

+++

“Hotch, are you sure it’s not a trick question?” 

“The questions aren’t designed to trick you,” comes a voice from the doorway. To your surprise, it’s Gideon. “They’re designed to stretch and reveal your instincts. No right answer.” 

The corners of his mouth turn down while his eyebrows rise in that kind of halfway-encouraging look he sometimes gets. “Just go with your gut.” 

He disappears and you turn back to Hotch, scribbling away in a file. 

“He’s right.” 

Your brain feels less and less bound to your body as the days pass. “Am I nuts, or is that the most words he’s strung together since I got here, combined?” 

What you now know to be a smile twitches at Hotch’s mouth. “You’re not nuts.” 

You sigh and turn your attention back to your mock exam, twiddling your pencil between your fingers. “I’m sorry to keep bugging you with homework - it feels like cheating.” 

He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Resourcefulness is not cheating. If it was, I’d have to go back and get my J.D. out of a Cracker Jack box.” 

You muffle a laugh.

He checks his watch. “I have a check-in with the budget office in five minutes. You’re welcome to stay right where you are, but it’ll be boring and I plan to do a lot of pacing.” 

You hold your hands up in surrender and settle in. 

Friday afternoons in the office feel a lot like Saturdays in the office - which is to say, nothing happens at all. The rest of the team is catching up on paperwork while Gideon walks laps with his little notebook. 

Not three minutes into his conversation, Hotch stands and begins to pace, as promised. 

"No, we can't cut the technology budget... Because if the BAU gets called to a remote region, we need to have immediate access to satellite phones and our technical analyst… Yes… Send the budget to the Director, and I'm certain it'll come back approved without changes… The arrest and prosecution rate of this unit is -” 

His desk phone rings and he gestures for you to pick it up. 

“Agent Hotchner’s office,” you say with more than a little trepidation. You’re definitely not qualified to answer the unit chief’s phone. 

“Goddamn it, Aaron why can’t you -” She pauses. “Wait. Sorry. Who is this?” 

You introduce yourself. “I’m currently on-assignment with the unit. It’s… unconventional.” 

“Hm. Why are you answering Aaron’s phone?” Her tone isn’t accusatory - it’s more curious than that. You’d imagine this doesn’t happen all that often. He’s either at his desk, or he’s not at his desk. 

She calls him Aaron. 

You’re not sure why that surprises you. They’re married, and he has a first name. 

Taking a look across the room, you watch Hotch’s profile as he continues to defend the budget he submitted. 

Aaron. 

You make an attempt to see the man behind the suit, the man who goes home to his wife and son when he can. 

“I’m using his office to study for my academy exams. I’ll see if I can reach Agent Hotchner for you. Just a second.”

She snorts something that could be a laugh if it wasn’t so sharp. “Thanks.” 

Hotch looks over and squints at you, mouthing, Who is it? 

You put her on hold and answer in a stage whisper. “It’s your wife.”

Hotch freezes for just a second - it almost looks like he’s rebooting. 

He blinks three times in rapid succession before he pulls the phone away from his mouth. “Tell her I’m in a meeting. I’ll call her back.” You move to reach for the phone but he holds up a finger and you freeze. “Wait two minutes.”

You follow instructions, taking the time to answer a few more mock exam questions. You try not to think too hard about his avoidance. This doesn’t seem like a particularly pressing phone call - Hotch is in budget meetings all the time. 

None of your business. 

After about a minute and a half, you pick up the phone again. 

Before you can say anything, she’s already back on her mini-rampage. About twenty seconds in, she pauses. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m still not talking to my husband, am I?”

De-escalate. Disarm. Establish rapport. 

You can do this. 

You channel Derek, using a softer tone designed to distract. Maybe you’ll sneak some humor in there, if you can manage it. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hotchner, he’s not available.” 

With a defeated sigh, she asks, flatly, “Where is he?” 

Humor. Play off her disappointment. 

“I assume he’s in a meeting or something - he likes to think he’s very important - but I can’t find him.” 

To your surprise, she laughs a little. 

You check with Hotch across the room. He rolls his eyes at you but continues his bickering. 

Success. 

“Can you just… I don’t know… Tell him I called, or something?” 

You try not to think too hard about the defeat in her tone. “I promise I’ll badger him to call you back as soon as he’s back at his desk, ma’am.”

“Wow.” She sounds impressed, and you’re not sure why. You’re not left in suspense for long. She continues - 

“You’re a way better liar than JJ. Also - please don’t call me ma’am. Makes me feel old. Haley’s just fine.” 

“Of course.” 

“You know what…” She asks for your cell number and you give it to her, throwing a glance at Hotch for good measure. He’s still pacing. 

He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, but can’t say anything to you before he’s forced to respond to the poor budget clerk who drew the short straw. “No we can’t start sharing hotel rooms…”

Haley interrupts your momentary space-out. “Thanks, again. If he doesn’t have a chance to call me back, can you let him know I’m going to my sister’s for the weekend? With Jack?” 

“Sure.”

That’s another question I’m not going to ask. 

You hang up the phone and get back to your exam, trying not to feel comforted by the lull of familiarity in the room. 

+++

For some reason, you keep finding yourself alone in police precincts in the middle of nowhere with Hotch sitting across the table from you. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You look up. 

“Haley, she…” He heaves a sigh and trails off for a minute, frowning at a spot above your head. “I don’t know why I’m asking, what I’m asking.” 

You keep your eyes on him. “Shoot.” 

He takes another breath. “I don’t know how to make her happy anymore.” 

This is above my pay grade. 

“Everything I do seems to irritate her - trying, not trying, just surviving. I don’t know.” He shakes his head at your somewhat bewildered expression. “Sorry, I -” 

“No, no, Hotch. It’s fine.” You search for his eyes. “What can I do?” 

He shakes his head. “Any advice?” 

Any advice? Definitely above my pay grade. 

You also feel for him - he wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t desperate. 

Besides that, it almost makes sense he’s asking you rather than anyone else on the team. They’ve all known him too long, have been too close to see his struggles clearly. They need to see him as an authority, separate from petty squabbles. 

Separate from the things that make him human. 

He needs to be a superhero for this team, and then go home and be a superhero for his family. Both parts of his life exist with a wall between them - Agent Hotchner can’t be a husband and a father in the field, and Mr. Haley Hotchner can’t be an agent at home. 

It must be lonely. 

Everyone else knows about and ignores that necessary separation. He trusts them as his colleagues, people he can rely on professionally, but perhaps not personally. 

Well, all except Emily. 

You get the feeling that he doesn’t completely trust Emily yet, but you’re not sure why. That’s another thing to figure out about the walking enigma sitting across from you. 

“Well… I’ve never been married, I don’t have kids, but I think…” You search for words. 

It’s none of my business, is what you want to say. 

Instead, you offer, “Why don’t you just ask her?” 

His brow crumples. “What?”

“Ask her. You don’t know how to, I dunno, do it right on your own, it sounds like. But you’re a team, right? Just ask her.” 

You duck down to your work, getting the feeling he’d rather not be observed as he processes. There’s a part of you that wonders whether his preference for privacy masks his fear. 

Another part of you already knows the answer. 

+++

Derek and Emily walk back into the precinct, spotting the pair of you right where they left you. 

Hotch still watches you with a soft, curious frown on his face, like there’s a puzzle there he can’t quite solve. You diligently work away, sticking flags and post-its on cold cases for the board. 

“What’s with that?” 

Emily looks up from her phone. “What’s with what?”

Derek nudges his chin toward the conference room. “That.”

Emily’s brow pinches a little. “They seem to be getting along well.” Her mouth twists. “I didn’t think he’d warm up so easily. He didn’t with me.” 

“He gets like that. He’s getting better, though, ever since you called him out.” 

She snorts. “You’re kidding. I didn’t think he actually listened - I barely meant it.” 

“No, you didn’t.” Derek raises his eyebrows and searches for her eyes. “And he heard you.” 

Emily shifts her attention back to you, her posture softening. “Oh.” 

“C’mon,” Derek says, tapping her upper back with a good deal of affection. “Let’s regroup and see what we’ve got.”

+++

Aaron sits up in bed, the harsh light from the hotel table lamp illuminating the ugly wallpaper and the case files on the equally ugly bedspread. 

His fingers hover restlessly over the keys as he drafts his email, warring with himself. 

Does he want you on the team? Permanently? He’s already shown too much of his hand, revealed too much of himself, grew too comfortable too quickly. 

He’s not sure what it is about you that forced his guard down. 

You’re not the first person he’s asked about Haley, though he must admit that Gideon was next to no help. Spencer’s offered him unsolicited statistics about marital strife on three separate occasions in the past three months. 

Aaron presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. 

I live in a circus. 

He opens his eyes and reads over the email again. 

Fuck it. 

His cursor hovers over Send for just a moment before he clicks. The little whooshing sound seals his fate. 

+++

You land in Arizona and Gideon’s already on edge. There’s already another crime scene by the time you get off the plane

“This one’s going to be bad, isn’t it?” 

Derek sighs. “You’ve got good instincts. Stay close.” 

You elect yourself Derek’s shadow at the crime scene, taking notes for him while he circles and observes the body. 

Leaning close to him, you ask, “Isn’t the body positioning a sign of remorse?” 

He looks over at you with a little smile. “Yeah. Good work.” He looks across the street to Hotch, speaking with the detective. “Do yourself a favor and note that to Hotch. Make sure Gideon hears you.” 

+++

This time, you’re alone with Emily in the conference room, helping her pin and organize the board. 

“Hey,” she says, something like hesitation in her voice. 

You turn. “Yeah?” 

“Did Strauss ever…” She trails off and looks over her shoulder as Hotch, Gideon, and Derek come back in from the Arizona heat. They’re on their way to the conference room. 

“Did she ever what?” 

Emily shakes her head and forces a smile, waving you off. “Nevermind.” 

You’re not sure you get the confused look of your face before your colleagues walk through the door. 

+++

“Where are they?” Hotch watches the monitor, his eyes flickering, searching for Derek and Emily. 

You’re frozen, watching over his shoulder as the woman stabs the unsub, and then herself. Without knowing why, your mind wanders to that question Emily almost asked you the day before. 

This isn’t good. 

+++

The plane ride home is quiet, tense. 

You sit next to Hotch again. There’s not much you can do, but you shoot a text to Haley. 

5:42pm We’re flying back. Should be wheels down in Quantico in about four hours. 

She texts back after a minute. 

5:43pm Thanks. 

There’s something off - you don’t like the look of that period, but you try not to read into it too much. You’re all feeling a little unsettled after that case. 

Your eyes wander across the cabin. 

JJ’s bottom lip is firmly planted between her teeth as she stares out the window. 

Spencer’s sitting across from Gideon with a huge book in his lap, but he’s looking at Gideon more than he’s reading. 

Gideon, for once, doesn’t have his journal in his hand. He, like JJ, stares out the window, his mouth pinched. 

Emily’s eyes are restless, her breathing somewhat irregular. She’s picking at her nails. 

“Emily.” 

She looks up at you, and you tap the back of your hand with a finger. She looks down, finding her thumb and index finger close to bleeding. 

“Thanks.” She looks away from you again. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d think the view out the window was the most captivating sight in history. 

You know better. It’s just clouds. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand. Jenny. 

5:58pm How’s it going? 

You huff a little laugh down your nose. 

5:58pm Rough day. 

Hotch breaks his gaze from the window. “What’s up?” 

“Just Jenny. She’s checking in.” 

He shakes his head and you can hear the sarcasm in his tone. “Good day for it.” 

6:01pm If you’re up to it, I’ll be in my office late if you want to swing by and talk about it. 6:02pm I also have booze. 

You look up to find Hotch reading over your shoulder. He backs off. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to -” 

“No, it’s fine.” 

“You should go, if she’s offering.” 

You snort. “Should I be job-searching already?” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says with a little smile. “Jenny’s seen a lot. She’s a good resource.” 

+++

The Navy yard is quiet as you drive across the campus. The NCIS building isn’t hard to find, but it’s still unfamiliar territory. 

When you park and get cleared for access and up the elevator, most of the lights are off on the Major Case Response floor. There are still agents present, working under the warm light of their desk lamps. 

A team of four takes up the middle of the bullpen, but they barely look up as you pass them and climb the stairs. 

Cynthia isn’t at her desk - gone for the night - and Jenny’s office door is open. She also has her overhead lights turned off, giving her office a cozy, lived-in feel. 

“Hey, you,” she says, looking up with a little smile. “Just got the scuttlebutt on that Arizona case. Definitely not ideal, I hear.”

You shake your head, collapsing into a chair on the other side of her desk. “Not ideal is a good way to put it.” 

She stands and crosses the office, pouring two small glasses of some amber liquid you know is gonna burn like hell. 

You take what she offers and hold in both of your hands, not really interested in drinking it, and follow her to the couch. 

“What happened?” 

You heave a breath. “Got the call - three murders already. Clearly a preferential offender. All the women were students, brunette, similar features. We already had another crime scene by the time we landed. We used the profile, got the guy.” 

Jenny’s brow pinches. “Then?” 

“Copycat. Even came with a note exonerating the suspect we had in custody. We had to let him go without a lead on the second suspect.” 

She sighs and takes a sip of her bourbon. “Been there.” 

“We were surveilling him, waiting for him to do something stupid - we knew he would. The copycat confronted him… She was suicidal. Stabbed him, then herself. We were too late.” 

“Oh, my God.” 

You level her with an exhausted look. “Yeah.” 

“How’s your team?” 

“Tired, mostly.” You offer a humorless laugh. “Maybe in a more existential way than a physical way, not that any of us have slept…” 

The two of you chat into the early hours of the morning. She’s had more than one day like this, in more than one country. 

“It’s days like this that make you question whether you’ve chosen the right line of work.” She looks over at a picture of herself in front of the Eiffel Tower, resting on her bookshelf. “But the good days…”

“They make it worth it, don’t they?” 

The corner of her mouth tips up in a smile. “Yeah. They do.” 

+++

You find a text from Haley when you get back into the car, not realizing you left it in the center console cup holder. 

10:38pm Thanks for getting him home safe. Get some sleep.

+++

When you come in the next morning almost embarrassingly late, Gideon’s office is still dark. 

You’re not even really sure you should be here in the first place, what with the major fuckup hanging over everyone’s heads. The last thing you want to do is go home to your room, back to those four tiny walls and textbooks, even after everything. The bullpen, this team, has become your safety net. 

They should all be here, but there’s only one absence striking you as particularly odd. “Where’s Gideon?” 

Spencer shrugs, spinning half-circles in his desk chair. He looks despondent, staring at the carpet. You don’t see Emily or Derek, but you assume they’re somewhere. 

Weird. 

You set your things down and head up the stairs, knocking twice on Hotch’s door. 

“Yeah?” He looks up and sees you, relaxing a little. 

You take a little breath. “Should I be here today?” 

“Do you want to be here today?” There’s something behind his voice you can’t quite place. It almost sounds like insecurity, like he’s worried he’s scared you off. 

Far from it. 

“I do, sir. I want to be here.” You think of Jenny, and hope he can hear more than you can say. “It’s worth it.” 

You think maybe you’re figuring him out a little more. He smiles more often than you’d think, but you have to know what it looks like. This look - the softening of his eyes and the corners of his mouth, the slight crease at the corners of his eye, the threat of a dimple - is just as big a smile for him as Morgan’s human-sunshine smile. 

“Then stick around. I’ll have you work on some mock consults with Reid and Prentiss - you’ll be doing a lot of those in the next few months until you’re ready to take them on by yourself.” 

“I’ll go pick them up from JJ. They’re in her office, right?” 

He nods and you turn to leave, but you’re stopped by the sound of your name before you can get through the door. “Yeah?”

“You’ve performed remarkably well, no matter what happens after this.” 

The side of your mouth twists. “Thank you, sir.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse​ @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger​ @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad​ @angelsbabey​ @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid​ @captain-christopher-pike​ @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em​ @word-scribbless​ @jdougl-love​ @dreila03​ @forgottenword​ @aaronhotchnerr​ @ssa-morgan​ @sana-li​ @tegggeeee​ @abschaffer2​ @ssacandice-ray​ @ellyhotchner​ @lotties-journey-abroad​ @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25​ @mooneylupinblack​ @ssareidbby​ @bwbatta​ @roses-and-grasses​ @capricorngf​ @missdowntonabbey​ @averyhotchner​ @mandylove1000​ @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor​ @spencers-hoodrat​ @popped-weasels​ @evee87​ @nuvoleincielo​ @this-broken-band-girl​ @reidtomestyles​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @winqhster​ @the-falling-in-the-danger​ @iconicc​ @mangoberry43​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @kerrswriting​ @mac99martin​ @itsalwaysb33nyou​ @baumarvel​ @messyhairday-me​ @ssworldofsw​  @deagibs​ @crazyshannonigans​ @moonshinerbynight​ @jhiddles03​ @teamhappyme​ @mendesmelodies​ @starsandasteroids​ @unicorn-bitch​ @ambicaos​ @bispences​

[probably-haven]

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

-

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should. 

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.  Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it. 

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself  and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game 

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows. 

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over- 

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.  I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is. 

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-  Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action. 

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways. 

 -Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though. 

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips. 

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself. 

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.  - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing. 

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.  - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced. 

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports 

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that. 

-

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead. 

[superfanficnatural]

Out in the Open

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Male!Reader

Summary: You always loved to tease Steve Rogers, always messing around with him and just having fun. Little did you know, he was going to pay you back for all of the embarrassment in full.

A/N: Ok so I haven’t written in a little over two months so I am soooo nervous to be posting this. This is also my first fic for the Marvel fandom and for Steve Rogers, I really hope you guys don’t think I’ve gotten senile haha. This was written for @anaelsbrunette​ “YAS’S 20TH BIRTHDAY BASH.” As always, I hope you enjoy! 

This story was beta’d by the lovely @crashdevlin huge shoutout to her for her help. You guys should really go check out her amazing works!! ❤️

Warnings: Smut, NSFW 18+, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Fingering, Rimming, Oral Receiving (Male), Rough Sex, Anal, Exhibitionism, Degradation? Praise? um... fluff? Once again, probably a few others that I’m missing.

Word Count: 4,692

If someone had told you that you were going to be working with the Avengers to fight evil a month ago, you would have laughed in their face. 

Now, as you quite literally stand next to your fellow Avengers fighting one of the last remaining Hydra bases, you can’t help but smile at how you could think about that at this moment. 

“Y/N! Get your head in the game! Hawkeye needs backup!” a voice rang out in your earpiece.

“I’m all in, Cap, maybe if you would stop staring at my ass you would have realized that you’re the distracted one here,” you responded with wit. 

An eruption of laughter was echoing in your comm link, a disgruntled groan coming from Steve.

“On my way to you, Eagle,” you spoke up, wanting to get back on track for the mission.

After the breakout of the terrigen crystals, you were one of the first Inhumans to come into contact with it. You remember how you were taking something as innocent as fish oil when you started to feel like your skin was shedding. It was like a drug, booming throughout your system, making your internal compass go haywire as a black substance swirled around your body. Next thing you saw was darkness, a cocoon of it. You tried to move but you were incapable of such an action, frozen in place as you feared the worst. Eventually, you could feel your body begin to revive, as if new blood was coursing through your system, making you stronger. By the time the strange substance had broken into pieces off of your body, you didn’t know how long you were in there for, but it felt... right. It was as if a forgotten piece of yourself was finally found, you felt whole. Little did you know that your Inhuman DNA was then unlocked. 

“I wasn’t looking at your... behind,” you heard Steve say, raising another laugh from both you and the others.

“Whatever makes you feel more like a gentleman,” you quipped. 

Ever since you had joined the Avengers, hell, even before then, you always had the biggest crush on Steve. Seeing him on TV saving the world with that million dollar smile, you were swooning every time. Now that you’ve had the chance to fight alongside him, your attraction ran even deeper. Getting to know him, seeing him fight to protect humanity, who wouldn’t find that ridiculously attractive? 

You glanced over at him on the battlefield, seeing him expertly take out four Hydra soldiers in six seconds flat. He was a bit ahead of you so you only managed to see his backside... no wonder they call that ‘America’s Ass’. 

You decided that was enough looking and got back to the fight, giving Hawkeye an assist as you took out three of the soldiers that were attempting to flank him. Suddenly, Thor flashed past you at light speed and sent tingling electricity throughout your body, crashing straight into a pillbox and taking out a gunner.

“Damn it, Thor. Keep your electricity away from me!” you shouted into the earpiece, your legs feeling weak. 

You could hear him chuckle even though he tried to hide it, “My apologies, Sir Y/N.”

You could have sworn he did it on purpose.

After going through terrigenesis, you had no idea what had happened to you. You knew you felt different, but other than that, you were mostly spooked. Instead of trying to find answers to what had happened to you, you had ignored it, not wanting to become a guinea pig at some military black site. But eventually, you couldn’t run from it any further. Whenever you had gotten anxious, or when any of your emotions were heightened, everything around you began to shake and vibrate. It was like you could hear everything around you, and when you focused on one sound, it would become elevated, so high that it began to violently shake. After you nearly caused an earthquake in your hometown, you knew you wouldn’t be safe any longer, you knew someone was going to come for you. So you went on the run, never staying in one place for too long, always on the move. You tried to learn how to control your powers over the few weeks that you were running, actually managing to damn near master it. You knew that you had the ability to tab into the vibrations of the objects around you. After some Google searches, you found out that everything vibrates on its own unique frequency, the plants, the trees, even your cell phone. And once you focused and tapped into those frequencies, you realized that you could control the amount of vibrational frequency coming off of it. It was like a cooler version of telekinesis, you practiced and practiced, being able to move objects around without even touching them. Then after about two weeks, you knew that you had more potential than you realized.

“Stark, get that shield down, now!” Steve belted into your comm, the sound of blasters firing and fighting all around him. 

“Relax Cap, just keep staring at Y/N’s ass, I’ll take care of it,” Tony responded.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips, “Oh god, what did I start?”

“Something you’re going to regret,” Steve chimed in.

You heard a huge blast and looked up to see the shield surrounding the building had been disabled, or more... destroyed.

“Good work, Tony. Let’s clean it up,” Nat chirped. 

Looking ahead, you saw about a dozen or so men with their backs against the trees in front of you. Chuckling to yourself, you thrusted out your arms and focused your power into them, building it up into a large shockwave that rippled throughout the forest in front of you, ripping the trees in half with the force behind them and taking out the remaining men.

“Damn, Y/N! You’ve been holding out on us, boy!” Tony remarked as he flew overhead. 

You smirked, satisfied with your work as you turned towards Steve’s direction to see his reaction. The second your eyes found his, they were staring right at you, his body still and his breathing heavy, most likely exhaustion from the fight. Instead of finding shock on his face, it was more of pride, and something... darker.

Once you found out that you were able to tap into frequencies and vibrations, you realized that it could be applied to more than just other objects. Your body was also giving off vibrations, and if you focused on it, you could increase it and send it out in a form of a shockwave. And after finally learning that skill, the government had finally caught up to you. You had mastered your ability so you had no trouble fighting them off, being careful to not severely harm anyone in the process since you didn’t want to be a murderous criminal either. Once you dispatched them, your name was finally known by anyone with power, and eventually, Nick Fury had found you. He said that you had power that you could use for good, to help people. And once he offered you a spot on the Avengers, you were too starstruck to say no. 

You couldn’t quite guess what was running through his mind for you had to help rush the base with the others. 

“Smash!” you heard Hulk belt out as he jumped hundreds of feet into the air and crashed right into the side of the base. 

“So much for finesse,” Hawkeye grumbled.

“It’s the Hulk, what else do you expect?” you smiled, running into the building yourself.

After about another twenty minutes, the entire building was cleared out and your mission was deemed a success. 

“Alright, good work everyone, let’s get back to the quinjet,” Cap announced, everyone making their way back to the plane.

On the way there, you were ahead of Tony and Steve and you could hear Tony through your earpiece, “Is there any particular reason that we’re walking behind Y/N, Cap?”

Everyone once again broke out into a fit of laughter, Steve’s face turning bright red, “I’m not looking at Y/N’s ass alright?!”

His sudden outburst shocked us a bit but Tony was waiting for that, “Did-did you just... curse?” he feigned being shocked, his mouth agape with a hand over his heart. 

“I never would have thought such profanities would ever come out of the Captain’s mouth,” Thor chuckled as he slapped Steve’s shoulder while walking by.

The god then walked up to you and threw his arm around your shoulder, “Although Y/N does have a mighty fine physique, I have to commend him on his power. Your performance was divine enough to be sung about in the taverns of Asgard.” 

You blushed immensely, let alone his thick and huge arm was resting around your shoulders, he even complimented you, twice. Thor was always attractive to you, he’s a damn god for crying out loud! Although, as much as you wanted to see him naked and even go further than that, Steve had stolen your heart... along with another thing of yours. By now, both Steve and Tony caught up to you, Nat and Hawkeye walking with Bruce up ahead. The second you turned your head to look at them, they could see the bright red color on your face, and while Tony was trying to hide a grin, Steve looked absolutely infuriated. You were struck by the anger simmering in his eyes that you looked away, a little bit too fast, for you could still catch the hint of the smirk Thor had on his face. 

“Yeah, what the hell was that, kid? I’ve never seen you do anything like that,” Tony questioned.

You blushed a bit more and chuckled nervously, “Just another trick up my sleeve, didn’t really have to use it before now.”

Steve still looked a bit pissed, but a bit of admiration was also found in his expression, warming your heart. To be able to receive praise from the man or woman of your dreams is something that everyone wants, and even though he never really verbally told you, you could tell he was proud. With a bit more banter and laughter from everyone, you got on the quinjet and headed back to the Avengers compound. 

The flight wasn’t too long, maybe about an hour or so. The entire time, everyone couldn’t get enough of both Steve cursing and the joke that he was looking at your ass. You swore, he looked like he was about to throw everyone out of the airlock, his face red with embarrassment. Once you had gotten off of the quinjet, everyone headed back to their rooms to take their showers, everyone caked with either blood or mud. You glanced over at Steve before he turned the corner to his room, his handsome face bloodied and dirty, and couldn’t help the tightening in your pants. How the hell was he always so goddamn pretty?!

When you got to your room, you tossed your bag into the corner and began to undress. Your clothes were sticking to your body with all the sweat and grime and you felt incredibly uncomfortable. Turning on the water, you took a moment to let it get warm, looking at yourself in the mirror. You traced every bruise and scar that you had, counting all of them like the stars at night. You couldn’t help the grimace on your face as you looked at yourself. Compared to the other guys on the team, you were probably the least physically defined. Sure, you had muscle, but it wasn’t anything special, not watermelons for biceps like the others. It made you a bit self-conscious; would Steve really get with someone like me when there are so many better options? You shook those thoughts from your mind, getting into the warm shower with the steam rising around you. It felt amazing, the warm water was relaxing the tense muscles you had and was washing away the evidence of your previous battle. You sat under the spray for a while, letting yourself relax and just letting the warm water cascade over you. 

Eventually, you decided that it was enough, pushing the electronic button in the shower, it turned off and you opened the door, drying yourself off and wrapping the towel around your waist. You turned on the blowdryer and dried your hair, styling it in the way you always do then walking out of the bathroom, the steam crawling across the floor into the bedroom. Walking over to your closet, you picked out your clothes, underwear, socks, a pair of comfortable joggers, and a loose short sleeve shirt. After getting dressed and applying your cologne, you opened the door to your room, planning to go to the kitchen to find something to eat, only to be met with Steve’s chest.

You staggered backwards a bit and looked up at him, “S-sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He looked incredible, smelled amazing too. He was clean from his shower and his scent was intoxicating, making your muscles relax and your mind to go a bit hazy. He had no answer to your apology, simply looking into your eyes with a strained look on his face. You were about to ask what was wrong before his lip curled and he reached out and grabbed you with both of his hands, digging into your shirt. 

“Steve, wha-” you were cut off by his lightning fast motion of turning around and thrusting you into the glass pane in the hallway.

“You think it’s funny to embarrass and tease me in front of everyone, hm?” he asked angrily, his face inches away from yours, his warm breath spreading across your cheeks. 

Your heart was racing and your mind was moving a million miles an hour, “T-tease you? Steve w-what are you talking about?”

“You know damn well!” he shouted, thrusting you back against the wall again, this time his leg slipping in between your thighs.

Shit.

A small whine came from your lips.

He looked down to see your erection poking against him, his knee rubbing it frivolously when he had thrusted you against the wall. 

He smirked, “Well look what we have here.”

He moved his leg dangerously slow, just barely so you would whine and break apart. 

“Steve, p-please,” you whined.

“You want to embarrass me in front of everyone? How about I do the same to you?” he suddenly turned you around and pressed you into the wall.

You could now have a perfect view of the outside, people walking about a hundred feet below you, the sun in the sky, the clouds flying by.

“I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it,” he growled into your ear, biting it. “Maybe then you’ll feel as embarrassed as I was.”

Liquid heat flooded your body, your cock pulsing heavily in your pants. His strong grip was keeping your hands locked together behind your back, his broad chest laying against your back as he spoke. Luckily for you, this was going to be far from embarrassing. 

“Maybe I will be, guess we won’t know until you fuck me,” you retorted, a smirk forming on your lips.

He sneered, “I’m gonna wipe that smile right off your face.”

Since your clothing was so loose, he had no problem ripping your pants down your legs, the cool wind of the AC hitting your legs as your joggers were bunched around your feet.

“Look at this ass,” he groaned, slapping it through the fabric of your underwear.

You jerked a bit at the contact and bit your lip, “Shit.”

He pressed you against the wall again, “Shut up, you’re only gonna make noise when I say so. For now, shut your mouth and take Daddy’s punishment.”

When he pushed you once more, his cock that was way too big to be considered a cock, pressed against your ass. You felt faint, your legs would have given out by now if he wasn’t holding you against the wall like he was. You didn’t even want to think about what he had called himself or else you would have came right there on the spot, and you were just getting started. 

He spanked you a few more times, your lip hurting from how hard you were biting down on it to keep from making noise. 

“You know, I actually was staring at your ass on that mission,” he admitted, “how could I not with how nice and perfect it looks?” he let out a groan. “Now, let’s see your pretty little pussy,” he teased, slowly inching down your underwear.

You never thought that someone referring to that area of your body like that would have been so hot but the idea that he was straight and was still going to fuck you had you leaking precum. Once he caught a glimpse, he got impatient and ripped off your underwear... literally. He pulled with so much force that a gasp left you, your eyes following a few pieces of ripped fabric float to the ground.

“This hole is mine, boy. You understand?” he claimed, grabbing your hole and the area underneath your balls with his fingers to pick you up just a tad bit further.

You whined in the mixture of pleasure and pain, “Yes, Steve.”

He didn’t let up, in fact, he gripped you a bit harder, “What was that?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you admitted, sagging in relief when he let you go but also missing the feeling his thick and warm fingers brought you.

“Daddy is right, boy,” he smirked against your throat, nibbling on the flesh there, sending shivers down your spine.

You had no idea how your day ended up like this but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, only being able to focus on the feeling of his thick finger pressing against your rim. 

“Let’s see how tight you are baby,” he grumbled, shoving his finger into your mouth to suck on before returning it to your eager hole. 

The second you felt his finger begin to push in a bit, your entire body tensed up, “Shhh, relax, let Daddy take care of you.”

You went lax at his comforting words, your hole opening up for him. 

“Fuuuck,” you let out in a low moan, his finger stretching you perfectly.

He chuckled behind you, “Damn boy, this is a tight hole.”

He pushed in further, slowly, getting you used to it. You were a writhing mess, not sure if you wanted more or for him to stop altogether. 

“Daddy, please,” you begged.

“Please, what?” he smiled, sucking a deep bruise into your neck.

“Please, fuck me,” all your reservations were thrown out of the window, nothing on your mind but this man and how badly you wanted his cock. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he teased.

Suddenly, you were left feeling empty, Steve pulling his finger out of you. However, you weren’t stuck feeling that way for long, Captain dropping to his knees behind you and spreading your cheeks with his hands. You knew what was coming and you couldn’t help the satisfaction from spreading across your face, your ass wiggling back into him before he even started.

“Someone’s eager,” he remarked.

You didn’t bother with a response, simply waiting for him to finally reach you. And when he did, it felt nothing short of incredible. His hot tongue pressed against the outer part of your hole, making your body relax more than it already was, your body nearly slinking to the ground. He spent his sweet time tasting you, teasing you, waiting until the last possible moment to enter you.

“God, you taste amazing,” he moaned, returning to his ministrations, pulling a moan to come spilling from your lips. 

He was tongue fucking you with such skill you wondered if he had done this before. He was switching between entering and exiting you at a fast pace and keeping his tongue inside of you while wiggling it around, pressing dangerously close to your prostate.

“Ngh, St-Daddy please, just give me your cock. Make your boy scream on it for everyone to see,” you were begging and panting like a bitch in heat.

The added thrill of being caught if only one person below you glanced upwards for even a fraction of a second had you teetering on the edge.

“Such a good boy for me, taking his punishment so well,” he praised, getting back up. “But before I fill you up, you need to get my cock nice and wet.”

He pulled you back around to face him, placing a searing kiss on your lips that had caught you off guard. He filled it with so much passion and drive that your cock jerked, the sensitive head leaking constant precum. Right after he ended the kiss, you were left breathless and he had pushed you down to your knees. You barely had any time to catch your breath before he forced his cock into your mouth, the taste of his precum instantly hitting your tastebuds. God, he tasted incredible. Since his advances were so quick, you barely even had time to comprehend how huge he truly was. Now, with his ridiculously huge member in your mouth, feeling how it stretched your lips out, how heavy it felt on your tongue, you knew you had never had nor seen a cock as thick or long as his. 

“Fuuuuck baby, just like that,” he moaned out, his chest vibrating.

The vibration gave you an idea you wanted to try so you focused your power as you were desperately attempting to keep from choking on his length. Once you felt you were ready, you used your power, vibrating his cock as you moved back and forth over it.

He instantly pulled away with an abhorrently loud groan, “What in the hell was that?” he asked, breathless. 

You were a bit shocked, “I just used my power and vibrated you while I sucked you off?”

His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape.

“Did I do something... wrong? Did it hurt?” you had gotten up and began to get concerned.

“No, no, nothing like that,” he let out a heavy breath, “it just felt so damn good.”

You smirked at that, proud of the effect that you had on him. Though, you wouldn’t lie and say the mood hadn’t been killed just a bit. To keep from the silence, you surged forward and claimed his lips as your own. Your mouths moving together, tongues entering each other's mouths, moving in a dance. The passion of the kiss reignited the fire in your stomach, pouring out to reach every part of your body, your slightly softened cock revitalizing. The both of you pulled away from the kiss and he looked sexier than you had ever seen him before, his pink lips swollen, his cheeks flushed, hair tousled, and his eyes dark from the expanding of his pupils. 

“Enough, it’s time for me to fill that ass up.”

You turned to walk into the bedroom, thinking that you would have sex on the bed, but Steve had other plans. He grabbed your arm and turned you around, pushing you back up against the wall, your face digging into the glass.

“I told you, I’m gonna fuck you against the glass for everyone to see,” he smirked.

With haste, the thick head of his cock pushed against your hole, sliding in relatively easy from all of the preparation he made. Still, the feeling of his tongue and fingers didn’t come even close to the sheer girth of his size, it felt like you were being split in half. Though, you still couldn’t get enough, pushing your ass back into him, feeling the warmth and the pubic hairs at the base of his cock.

“Goddamn, this ass is squeezing my dick so good baby boy,” he growled, jutting his hips sharply, forcing an involuntary moan to rip from your throat.

He grabbed your traps as a way to stabilize both you and himself as he picked up his pace, the sound of his thunderous thighs slapping against the globe of your ass echoing throughout the room. Grunts and groans were filling the space around you two, animalistic groans that made your cock ache against the window pane. Being spread out, submitting to such an authoritative man, it was better than any dream. 

“Fuck, Daddy, you’re so big,” you moaned, your hair flying over your face from the speed of his thrusting. 

“Yeah? You like my big cock?” he wrapped his arm around your chest and brought you up to his, turning your face to kiss you as he continued thrusting. 

Let alone everything that has happened and is currently happening, his dirty talk managed to ramp you up like no other. The way he makes you feel so insignificant yet so special, the way he pleasured you, it was driving you insane. It sounded like a clique, but he truly ruined you for any other man.

His thrusting kept picking up more and more speed and you began to wonder if he could possibly get any faster than he already was. It probably had to do with the super soldier serum... how else was his cock so huge? The window was rocking with the force of his thrusts and your moans were unabashedly resonating in the hallway, any care for someone hearing obliterated. Hell, everyone under you was probably watching as well but you didn’t care, it spurred you on. He was mashing your prostate deliciously, his pin-point accuracy both appreciated and feared. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” you whined.

He went from rapid thrusting to a somewhat slower pace but with more force behind each thrust, making you cry out in ecstasy each time he reached that sweet spot.

“Cum, cum on my cock,” he commanded, his deep and gravelly voice sounding like music to your ears.

At his command, you let go, you cock spasming and shooting your load all over the window, coating it in white. The sudden increase in tightness from your walls had Steve releasing a choked moan, his hips staggering in their pace... he was close. 

“Fuck yeah Daddy, fill my ass up with your cum, breed me,” you moaned seductively, trying to milk him of his orgasm.

“Oh yeah, Daddy’s gonna fill up this tight hole, get ready,” he warned, getting louder and louder until eventually he reached his climax. 

You could feel his warm seed coat the insides of your walls, his member throbbing inside of you, threatening to send you right into another orgasm. He let out a guttural growl and kept pumping through his euphoria, shooting load after load into you, so much that when he had pulled out, a steady stream had followed closely behind. You sagged against the wall, utterly spent and satiated while he had leaned back on the other side of the hallway against the door of your room. There was comfortable silence for a few minutes, the both of you breathing heavily and coming down from your respective highs. Your back was still arched, showing off your abused hole that Steve couldn’t get his eyes off of.

Suddenly, the door had chimed and someone had walked into the hallway.

“Well by the gods!” 

You recognized that voice.

You turned your bright red face slowly towards his direction, the rest of your body still. You could see Thor in shorts and a tight t-shirt, hugging his muscles in all of the right places. You then looked down to see the outline of what seemed like a cock about the same size as Steve’s bulging out of his shorts.

He reached down and stroked himself through his pants, “Do you have enough energy for another cock, Y/N?” 

You knew you said that Steve had ruined you for any other man, but... Thor wasn’t a man.

You smirked, “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​ @flamencodiva​ @impala-1979​ @talesmaniac89​ @malfoysqueen14​

Male Reader Tag List: @brymalibu​ @myybebe @winchesterzforever​ @spnfanboy777​ 

[asset35-maya]

CALYPSO 🐚 ☕️

Part 1/3

Part 2/3:

“You call this shit an espresso machine?”

“I wouldn’t, but Fowler does. The department’s on a tight budget.”

“Hmmpff.”

Gavin watched Nines tinker with the cheap coffee maker in the break room. The whole thing was so absurd it felt like an out of body experience. He hadn’t had a partner in years and was now suddenly stuck with a military-grade android who bitterly resented every second spent by his side. It was also the first time he’d met someone as temperamental, as foul-mouthed and as coffee-loving as him.

Nines smacked the machine. It produced a pitiful whine and a stream of muddy brown liquid. Gavin cleared his throat.

“We should head to the scene now. Two victims in a warehouse. One human, one android. Battered beyond recognition. I’d go by myself but I need you to scan their identities for me.”

Nines turned around with disgust and something that looked a lot like fear written across his features.

“That sounds awful. Why would I want to come see such a thing?”

“It’s… your job…?”

“No. I’m not a detective. I’m a café owner. Markus and Connor might have forced me to sign a contract with the DPD but they can’t force me to do things I don’t want to.”

“And what am I supposed to do with an uncooperative partner?”

“That is not my problem.”

Gavin was stumped. He wasn’t used to people talking back to him, especially not civilians… not that Nines was really one any more.

“Come on, man. I don’t wanna tell on you. Let’s just make this work. Getting you in trouble is only gonna push you and all your fellow tincans into more hot water. Then you’d have lost your little café for nothing.”

Strangely, he found himself appealing to reason and logic. Nines’ aggressive demeanour was so similar to his own that Gavin had been forced to switch alignment entirely. His colleagues were pleasantly surprised by the change… though now there was a new rabid dog in the station they had to avoid angering.

“Fine. But tell me where exactly to scan. I don’t wanna be looking at those poor bastards any longer than I have to.

And don’t expect me to lick any blood like Connor the great. That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Of course.”

//

\\

“Oh god. Oh RA9. Oh my…”

Nines took a shaky sip of his blue latte and dropped the cup back onto its saucer. Ralph hovered anxiously above him.

“How on earth do you look at things like that everyday? You barely batted an eye. And they call us androids inhuman.”

“Fifteen years on the job will dull your senses.”

“When did you stop getting queasy?”

Gavin lifted his own cup to his lips, not answering until he finally got a taste of the specialty coffee Nines kept raving about. He sipped and sighed in satisfaction. Calypso was everything it was talked up by the press to be.

“Right after a triple homicide by this dude I went to school with. He grew up exactly the same way I did. He had a nice family, nice job. There was nothing wrong with him. He could have been me, I could have been him. But how did the universe decide who’d be the cop and who’d be the killer? No phcking clue. No rhyme or reason for the way things turned out. And that realisation chilled me to the phcking bone, dude. There’s things scarier than blood and guts and that’s the workings of our own minds.”

Nines considered that for a moment and shuddered. Ralph hastily walked away, muttering to himself.

“Ralph does not like these talks. Murders and killings and bloody, bloody things. It reminds Ralph of the old days.”

Gavin watched him retreat behind the store counter with a raised eyebrow.

“Where on earth did you find that specimen?”

“In a haunted house.”

Gavin blinked uncertainly, not sure if he was being serious. Nines barked a laugh.

“Both of us were living rough after the Revolution. He’d been squatting in different buildings since he deviated and I was one of the new units Connor brought onto the streets from Cyberlife Tower. Didn’t have any clothes on. Didn’t have anywhere to go. I just ducked into the first abandoned building I saw. Needless to say I got the scare of my life, just as the poster outside promised.”

Nines’ eyes flicked over fondly to Ralph. The WR600 was now dealing rather enthusiastically with a customer. Gavin followed Nines’ gaze, sipping the heavenly coffee while his perception of the world went through another sea change.

//

\\

“I’m proud of you, son. You didn’t want to join us at first but you went above and beyond for this mission.”

Captain Fowler pinned a medal of honour to the front of Nines’ dress uniform as the audience clapped. Nines inclined his head but remained expressionless. He glanced sideways and Gavin couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, scarcely noticing the matching medal that joined the other ribbons and distinguished service awards on his chest.

Connor and Markus were waiting for them as they got off the stage. Nines shoved past both of them, ignoring Markus’ outstretched hand and the camera flashes from the media.

Irony of ironies, Gavin felt the need to save face. He stopped to shake hands and pose for pictures with the leader of Jericho and new Mayor of Detroit.

“He’s served well. He’s done his part. When can he go back to his little café?”

Markus smiled wistfully.

“Securing Nines’ public service was not just a bargaining chip in passing the Android Equality bill, Detective. It was a key instrument.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t just need to guarantee public safety from advanced androids, we need to recuperate the development costs. Cyberlife received countless government grants for RK R&D activities. I need to show tax payers that their money didn’t go down the drain.”

“What the hell kind of freedom is this?”

Markus dipped his head and Connor swiftly motioned for a journalist to join them.

//

\\

“Turn the car around! Turn the fuck around!”

“Okay okay! Hang on!”

Gavin was used to Nines’ temper but he was now seeing it accompanied by anxiety for the first time. His hands were splayed out across the dashboard and his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. The LED on his temple sparked red in between its rapid cycles of yellow.

Weaving expertly through the traffic, Gavin pulled up outside Calypso Café. Nines leapt out of the police car before it fully stopped.

Gavin saw the source of trouble instantly. Two burly men tossing chairs and kicking tables. A third was berating terrified patrons and a fourth jeered at Ralph, plucking at his apron and smacking his damaged cheek. Gavin knew that anti-android sentiment still simmered beneath the surface of their society, but it had been a while since he’d seen it rear its ugly head… and so violently at that.

Nines barged into his beloved café and bodily flung the men out. They flew through the air and hit the pavement as if they weighed nothing. Gavin watched with muted horror, realising why exactly anyone would want the government to keep an eye on the RK900.

There was a sickening crunch as Nines broke the nose of the man who’d been bullying Ralph. But it didn’t end there. He kicked him down the entrance steps and leapt onto the man’s torso, pummelling his brutish face into the concrete.

Gavin could barely hear himself yelling for Nines to stop above the cacophony of screams from the vicinity. Seconds flew by and spatters of blood turned into veritable rivulets running down the pavement.

Not daring to intervene physically, Gavin pulled out his service revolver.

“Nines, get off him! Nines, it’s not worth it! If you kill him, everything ends! Nines! Stop! I’ll shoot if you don’t let go! Don’t make me do this, man! Please!”

He counted down and cursed when Nines showed no indication of having heard him. He fired a warning shot. Then two more. And then he pointed his weapon directly at Nines.

One bullet to the android’s midsection.

A burst of blue.

A staticky cry of surprise.

And Nines dropped to the side.

The other aggressors scrambled to scrape their unconscious ringleader off the ground and hurried away. Gavin made no effort to stop them. He flipped Nines onto his back and looked into the angry blue eyes.

“Wipe all the security cameras on the street.”

“Already did.”

Ralph helped him carry Nines into the vandalised café. Gavin ripped open the stained shirt and felt up the chassis for the embedded bullet. He took the toolbox from Ralph and began to work, guided by a lifesaving instinct that somehow applied to androids too.

“I should have been there.”

“What?”

“Ralph. I should have been there with you. I’d have never let those bastards into the store. I’d have never let them put their hands on you.”

“Ralph is okay. Completely fine! There is no need to worry about Ralph. Ralph is worried about you. So much thirium…”

“This should have never happened. You were there for me when I didn’t even have a stitch of clothing on my chassis, but I abandoned you to run Calypso on your own. You could have gotten hurt badly today. I’m so sorry, Ralph.”

Gavin plucked the bullet out and began working to stem the flow of blue blood. His hands shook with empathetic rage, and Nines noticed.

//

\\

“I honestly think falling back on your core programming is the right thing to do. It’s the same thing as humans playing to their strengths. It doesn’t mean we’re still trapped by our software instructions. It doesn’t mean we’re not deviant. It just means that we’re choosing to do something we’re indisputably good at.”

Nines’ grip on his thirium beer was so tight that his knuckles had turned white. The synth skin was stretched to breaking point, exposing the plastic chassis beneath. Gavin swallowed uncomfortably. He found himself wishing that he was an android too and could telepathically ask Connor to shut the phck up.

As usual, he was the only one who noticed Nines’ tension. Hank and Fowler and all their other insensitive colleagues were nodding sagely at the bullshit the RK800 was spewing.

“I mean, sure, there’s plenty of androids who choose alternative career paths, but I think that’s just an unnecessary hill to climb. If you’re up for the challenge, go for it by all means, but why? It’s never made sense to me. I can’t imagine being anything other than a detective.”

Gavin’s eyes flitted between both ends of Hank’s backyard as if he were watching a tennis match. Connor continued to babble and Nines grip on his drink became increasingly vice-like.

Then there was a splintering sound.

A spray of blue beer.

A scatter of broken glass.

Time seemed to slow down as Nines pushed himself off the fence he was leaning on and made his way across the yard.

And then Gavin had a fleeting vision of Connor being tackled to the ground and having his jaw ripped off. He’d heard plenty about preconstructions but he’d never expected to have one himself as a human. Or was that just what they called a premonition?

Gavin moved quickly.

He actually ran.

He paid no heed to the irritated murmurs and cries of alarm.

He pushed a hapless colleague out of the way and inserted himself directly in Nines’ path…

deftly avoided the attempt to shove him aside…

wrapped his arms around Nines’ neck…

and kissed him.

//

Part 3/3