#and i am going to completely ignore the rest even exists

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 12: Dinner

Summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know. 

Chapter Summary: Dearest gentle reader, welcome to another chapter of Nyra exists and Azriel is obsessed because who wouldn't want a morally grey, shadow-wielding, winged male obsessing over them?

Warnings: Azriel's wrath. It's mad. He's the Spymaster for a reason. Hints of lust here and there because he's obsessed with his mate.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Azriel's POV

"You're a real piece of work." Amren said, examining Nesta like a cat with her silver eyes.

"Why do your eyes glow?" Nesta asked coolly. Nyra looked at Amren's eyes, noticing the glow for the first time. She tilted her head, an action that indicated her confusion. Azriel felt a semblance of peace at how adorable Nyra looked like that. Like a curious innocent female he wanted to corrupt so badly.

"Don't you already know why?" Amren looked at Nesta and then at Nyra.

"Decorative purposes?" Nyra asked, knowing completely well that was not the case. Azriel felt mischief rise within her. She was starting to forget all the guilt and grief in relation to Feyre. Amren shot her a glare and Nyra raised her eyebrows, her chin dipping just a bit, inviting challenge.

"We are the same." Amren announced. The twins blinked and sat straight. "Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones..." Her eyes narrowed. "But... I see the kernel. The two of you did not fit—the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not fit. And then the path changed. I know what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was."

"You're that old?" Nyra asked. Azriel couldn’t help but be in awe at the way her moods changed. From a bloody fucking panic attack not an hour ago, she’d hopped on to confusion and then a whole load of guilt and in between all of it, she’d flirted with Mor, started a weird sort of banter with Amren and he could not even understand her enough to predict what she’d feel the next moment. 

And this was… refreshing. 

A storm of emotions and how she carried all of them so openly. 

Nyra’s concern for Feyre after they met after the latter was Made. Scolding her sisters for going for each other’s throats during dinner. Laughing at the entirely wrong time when Nesta ignored Cassian and trying to cover it up with a cough. Her knowledge of the political situation in her part of the world. And the humour—fucking brilliant sense of humour. Flirtatious on occasion. Serious too. And she owned every last one of her feelings with such grace. 

Those newborns… they were born because of her. Because of how fascinated he’d been by her as their first meeting progressed.  

He remembered what he told her back then before leaving after Rhys had caught the Attor. “If fate wills it, we shall meet again.” The memory of him kissing her hand had the shadows around him fluttering. 

"Speak carefully, girl." Azriel returned to the real world when Amren delivered a warning. She took a sip from her goblet filled with blood and licked her red lips, her eyes narrowing into glare as a warning for Nyra. 

"A manner of speech unlike anyone else here despite the age gap of five centuries between us and them. Are you perhaps older?" Clearly, Nyra Archeron found it far too amusing to notice or if she did, she did not heed it but Azriel could feel the power rising to the surface. That feeling charged him from within.

"I am ancient." Amren watched like a predator ready to pounce. Nyra simply hummed. The petite female frowned.

"Older than ancient ruins?" Nyra felt the power within her rising. Allowing her to see so much about this seemingly delicate female.

Amren's silver orbs remained on Nyra. And Azriel's hand was already ready to unsheath the Truth-Teller. 

The ancient one smirked and raised her glass towards Nyra. "When you strike, girl, cleave through providence." She turned to Nesta. "And when you erupt, make sure it's felt across worlds." And she emptied the goblet, the blood staining her lips as she continued to smirk. "And keep off your silly dagger, shadowsinger."

Azriel continued to remain wary even as all eyes turned to him. His shadows danced wildly around him. Watching. Waiting for anyone to breathe wrongly. Mistress went into the shadows. Azriel froze immediately. He commanded more information. She was upset earlier. We went to her and took her with us. Her twin found her. He looked at Nyra in shock and slight fear. The shadows had claimed her. They had already started claiming her, even when she was mortal and now, they'd cemented it. She was crying. They sounded upset. 

For now, there were a few mysteries.

The shadows had only ever used words and phrases with him but now, they were using proper sentences.

The shadows never did anything without his instructions. Until Nyra. The little shits were always touching her. And now, they had taken her to the realm of shadows on their own accord.

How did Nesta find Nyra when she was in the shadows? Did it have anything to do with them being twins?

As he contemplated these new developments, Azriel watched the twins. Nesta Archeron had piqued his interest. He knew from Nuala and Cerridwen that twins shared a certain bond that siblings with age gaps did not. It had something to do with an exclusive connection forming between them during their time in the womb. And it was another matter that the Archeron twins were thrown into the Cauldron at the same time. Was there something more because of that?

Azriel figured the best way to distract himself tonight would be with the varieties of delicacies served for dinner tonight. He looked around, trying to identify which ones he'd prefer. The shadows kept telling him about the twins and how Feyre served the first dish to Nyra and from then on, the twins served their own food and passed the dishes around. Lucien Vanserra is nervous. Azriel looked at him to see the male looking at his food and looking around. He had been unconsciously placed at the head of the table with Nesta and Amren by his side.

"You get used to it—the informality." Feyre addressed Lucien.

"You say that, Feyre darling, like it's a bad thing." Rhysand served himself some trout before passing it to Feyre. She served herself before looking at Nyra questioningly. Nyra shook her head, took the dish and passed it to Nesta. Azriel observed her hesitation. She does not like trout.

"It took me by surprise that first dinner we all had, just so you know." Feyre's comment had Cassian snickering.

"Oh, I know." Rhys grinned.

"Honestly, Azriel is the only polite one." Cassian and Mor cried in outrage as Feyre said that but Azriel smiled a little and took a dish from Mor. "Don't even try to pretend that it's not true." A small ball of delight hit the shadowsinger in the chest when he saw that Nyra had taken the delicacy he had just served himself. Chicken roast. She might like it. He certainly did and now he'd wait for her verdict.

"Of course, it's true." Mor sighed. "But you needn't make us sound like heathens."

Azriel watched Nyra pick up her fork and play with the food for a few seconds before she took a bite. Her eyes widened a little and she took her next bite, thoroughly pleased by the taste. Azriel made another mental note. She likes roast chicken.

And that was enough information for the shadows to have another celebratory dance. The older shadows around him loved her but they could control themselves. In a sense, they were mature. Clearly not mature enough to go through one dinner without complimenting her, but at least they weren't singing and dancing like the younger ones wrapped quite literally around her fingers. They were small, their touch featherlight and they had already ascended to her wrists and above to give her space to handle cutlery.

“Do you like chicken?” Mor asked, a smile on her face. Nyra slowly nodded. “Then you should try it with this.” She passed a bottle of sauce but Nyra simply stared at it and looked back at Mor. What if she turned her gaze and looked at him? After all, he was sitting right next to Mor. And he fought a smile. A very difficult battle but he won.

Just as Nyra extended her hand to take the bottle of sauce, the younger shadows around her wrist darted forward to take it from Mor’s hand, taking care not to make contact with the latter’s skin. They opened it and set the bottle near Nyra’s plate. She smiled gently and whispered. “Thank you.” 

“Try it. Mor likes it and I tolerate it. It’s chili sauce. Spicy as it is, it’s quite good once you get used to it.” Rhys spoke as he looked at her. Nyra nodded and took a tentative bite and her eyes snapped to Mor who waited for the verdict. Nyra nodded with soft enthusiasm and then hummed before looking at Rhys who grinned with the raise of his glass. Azriel was observing everything. She liked it with that sauce.

The shadows near Azriel's ears were dancing with joy and subsequently, tickling his ears and irritating him. He banished them away from his ears and focused. He was the Spymaster. Surely he could spy on one female sitting across from him during dinner without his shadows.

“Thank you.” She addressed Mor once she had chewed and swallowed the piece in her mouth and then turned to Rhys and nodded at him. The High Lord lifted his spoon in acknowledgement and ate his peas.  

“So, what are your favourite foods?” Mor eagerly began. 

Nyra was silent for a while before she replied. Chocolate, Azriel noted. "My diet was regulated owing to my illness."

"You have no illnesses now." Amren spoke up. "Take complete advantage of that." Azriel hoped Nyra would enjoy the world and all that it had to offer now that she was no longer ill and had a long, immortal life ahead of her. Explore places. Eat foods from all over the world. Meeting new people, not in a romantic capacity else he'd accidentally slice their necks. Enjoy the weather—the sun, the rain, the snow. Everything she wanted, he'd lay down at her feet.

Nyra hummed thoughtfully, cutting through a particularly large piece of broccoli and asked. “Do you eat flesh too?”

The ancient one smirked. “What makes you think that?” 

“Bloodthirsty people being flesh eaters does not sound too odd.” Rhys spat his wine. Mor and Cassian laughed and Azriel smirked, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth to restrain the laughter. Nyra and Nesta were the only ones who did not laugh—the former looking amused while the latter looked grumpy. Why was Nesta so grumpy?

“Troublesome female.” Amren spoke after the laughter had died down, a wicked smirk on her face as she imagined something that nobody was too eager to know. Nyra did not reply and resumed her meal. The chicken and potatoes and the broccoli, she decided, were too delicious to be ignored in favour of a bloodthirsty midget. "No, I don't." Amren's voice had Nyra looking at her again. "I don't eat flesh." 

Dinner progressed with Nesta telling Feyre about how she understood the difference between the food in Prythian and in the mortal lands. It was when Feyre brought up training with Cassian that Nyra paid attention. "What time are we back in the training ring tomorrow?"

"I'd say dawn but since I'm feeling rather grateful that you're back in one piece, I'll let you sleep in. Let's meet at seven."

"I'd hardly call that sleeping in." Feyre muttered.

"For an Illyrian, it is." Mor sighed again. Azriel was already starting to get irritated at the banter between Cassian and Mor and at his stupidity for situating himself between them. His peaceful observation was being interrupted by these loudmouths. His shadows were also joining that group anyway.

"Daylight is a precious resource." Cassian's wings rustled as he took mock offence.

"We live in the Night Court." Mor countered.

Cassian grimaced and turned to his brothers. "I told you that the moment we started letting females into our group, they'd be nothing but trouble." Azriel did not bother paying him any mind.

Rhys raised an eyebrow. "As far as I can recall, Cassian, you actually said you needed a reprieve from staring at our ugly faces, and that some ladies would add some much-needed prettiness for you to look at all day. And now, we have more pretty ladies with us." Rhysand threw a welcoming smile at the twins who were suddenly overwhelmed at the sudden ball of attention thrown towards them but they did acknowledge him with a nod of their heads.

"I was a young Illyrian and didn't know better." The movement of Azriel's shadows caught his attention and Cassian pointed a fork at his brother. "Don't try to blend into the shadows. You said the same thing." Azriel sighed, annoyed at Cassian for not shutting up and letting him watch Nyra in peace.

"He did not." Mor objected. "Azriel has never once said anything that awful. Only you, Cassian. Only you." Cassian stuck out his tongue. Mor mimicked his action. Azriel, who sat between them, now regretted his choice of seat. He should have chosen the seat on Mor's other side. He would have had an easier time observing Nyra without the two chatterboxes of the millennia breathing down his neck.

"You'd be wise to leave both of them at home for the meeting with the others, Rhysand. They'll cause nothing but trouble." Amren's words surprised Lucien. Nyra focused on her food while conversation progressed regarding the High Lords' Meet but then the mention of a Court of Nightmares seemed to have caught her attention.

"What is the Court of Nightmares?" Nyra asked Rhysand but it was Lucien who answered.

"The place where the rest of the world believes the majority of the Night Court to be. The seat of his power. Or it was." Nyra looked at the red-haired male.

Azriel was beginning to feel even more irritated. This Autumn-born was an unwelcome guest in their Court and he was already stealing her attention. Something within him stirred with rage. The thought of anyone other than him trying to do anything for her woke up all the wrath he had carefully concealed. And even when Cassian slung a seemingly friendly arm behind him, Azriel felt the strength in the warlord's grip.

Rhysand's presence waited for him outside his mind's realm. I urge you to calm down, Azriel. The Vanserra is here for his own mate, not her.

Then he should stay away from her. Azriel's response was cool but he knew that Rhysand understood his rage. He is responsible for their transformation. It was unbearably painful and traumatising for them.

Partially responsible, yes. Rhysand countered, trying to placate him but Azriel was having none of it.

The Cauldron did something to her. And her sisters. She died in there, Rhys. Very painfully. And he was complicit in how things turned out for all four of the Archeron sisters even if he has a mating bond leading to one of them. I don't understand why we are dining with him instead of taking him to the prisons. Azriel knew he had spoken more than he usually did. It was uncharacteristic of him but then again, he'd already lost his mate once and that made him immensely protective of Nyra. And the rage within him rose like the icy wind it was. Cold and unforgiving. 

Azriel knew his anger was something everyone feared, even Rhys. And this was the most powerful High Lord to ever exist. And that cold, cruel feeling continued to swirl within him like a blizzard. 

Azriel. Cassian's voice spoke. They're simply talking. 

He, who is responsible for the pain she endured, be it partially or wholly, is not worthy of her words or attention. Azriel declared his verdict. He could feel himself shaking.

His shadows were trying to calm him down by saying good things. Sweet memories of his mother. Her latest letter. How lovely his mate was. And how he had yet to tell his mother about his mate. The anticipation because his mother, the sweet female, had been waiting for him to bring home someone. Had prayed for him to meet someone who would love him. And here she was. The only female he was capable of loving. The shadows panicked and danced around him, ready to take him to the realm should he snap in front of Nyra. 

Oh, how he’d carve this Autumn-born. He’d start with that metal eye. Rip it out of him and crush it. He’d pour whiskey into the bleeding socket before pushing the crushed metal eye back into it. And Azriel would take his time. He’d cut and carve into his skin with the Truth Teller. 

Mistress is looking here. And at that, he froze. He finally noticed Nyra looking at him, doubt in her gaze. He noticed the ironclad grip on his shoulder by Cassian. Mor and Amren seemingly invested in the conversation but radiating their power subtly enough to put forward that they were ready to strike. By then, Rhys had taken over the conversation but the High Lord was ready with the night to restrain him. 

And then there was her. 

This beautiful, wonderful female. 

The way she was looking at him, ocean blue eyes wide and questioning. 

She’d guarded the heart of her youngest sister, the newest addition to his family, his sister. And now, he was ready to beg her to protect his own because he’d seen Feyre so happy whenever she talked about Nyra, was talking to Nyra, was even near her. The comfort Feyre had found in this female was something he’d started craving. He could see how Nyra sitting between her sisters was a good arrangement. Both Feyre and Nesta craved the comfort she’d offered. And in their own flawed way, they returned it. 

Was he capable of offering her comfort? Since it was for her, it could not be anything less than perfect and he was anything but. And that thought saddened him more than he expected. 

“Are you alright?” She mouthed the question, trying to ensure secrecy but everybody was focusing on their interaction except for Nesta and Feyre. Everybody pretended to be in a conversation to indulge the other Archerons at the table while she was asking him. How beautiful she’d be with his cock in that pretty mouth. Or maybe, he should make her beg. Or even scream. 

“Yes.” Azriel mouthed back. Erotic fantasies about Nyra were better than murderous fantasies about the Vanserra. Anger dissipated like the fog and she then smiled at the shadows which had tugged at her fingertips. She then looked at him with that smile and Azriel swore the moon rose in those blue eyes. 

Has she always been this impossibly enchanting? 

And what was that smile? 

Was she happy? 

If he kissed her right now, as her lips smiled at him, would he get a piece of that happiness for himself? 

Azriel stood up and nearly began leaning towards her before Cassian caught his arm and jerked it. He came to his senses and immediately knew everyone was looking at him. He spotted the first dish near her and took it, pretending that he’d needed to stand up for his hands to reach there. Just as he sat, Cassian coughed rather loudly. Of course, the bastards he had as brothers caught him. 

"It still is to everyone outside Velaris." Nyra turned to Rhys who had spoken. He nodded at her once before looking at Mor. "And yes, Keir's Darkbringer legion is considerable enough that a meeting is warranted."

"Why not just order them?" Nesta questioned, her brows narrowed. "Don't they answer to you?" At this point, the three Archerons turned their heads to Rhys simultaneously, waiting for him to answer.

Azriel watched them in surprise. The three Archeron sisters with startlingly similar features turning to look at Rhys was an incredible sight. Golden brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin glowing under the golden faelights. All of them were wearing something dark. When a lock of hair escaped their respective hairstyles and fell near their left ears as they immediately turned to face Rhys. When they placed their cutlery on their respective plates in unison. The way their hands rested on the table and they assumed the same posture as they waited for Rhysand to speak. It hit him too hard that these three were sisters, in blood and bond. No matter how fractured those bonds were.

"To think there's another one of them upstairs." Amren muttered, taking a heavy gulp of blood. It seemed the stark similarity in looks, postures and overall disposition as it seemed at the moment had caught everyone unawares.

"Unfortunately, there are protocols in place between our two sub-courts regarding this sort of thing." Cassian spoke, his back straightening when Nesta shifted her gaze from Rhys to him. "They mostly govern themselves with Mor's father—their steward." Nyra looked at the warlord sitting to Azriel's left. The shadowsinger noted how particularly different Cassian behaved around Nesta and how Nyra had noticed the same.

"The steward of Hewn City is legally entitled to refuse to aid my armies." Once again, the three sisters turned to Rhysand. "It was a part of the agreement my ancestor made with the Court of Nightmares all those thousands of years ago. They would remain within that mountain, would not challenge or disturb us beyond its borders... and would retain the right to decide not to assist in war."

"And there are no loopholes in this agreement?" Nyra asked. He could feel her thinking. He could not discern her exact thoughts but he was glad at the way her mind had been distracted from the grief and guilt she was consumed by earlier.

"None that we have identified so far." Rhys answered.

"And have they refused?" Feyre asked.

Morrigan's fumbled response brought Nyra to another realisation. And as dinner progressed, Azriel felt her as she let her grief be a forgotten thing. The conversation continued regarding the Court of Nightmares and Feyre's training with Cassian.

"Let's train at eight tomorrow. I'll meet you in the ring." Feyre spoke after the silence in the wake of their discussion on the Court of Nightmares.

"Seven thirty." Cassian countered with a grin.

"Eight." Feyre tried to. negotiate. "Care to join, you two?"

"No." Nesta's answer was final, not inviting any negotiations.

"Nyra?" Feyre tried. Nyra was in the middle of looking at the table for broccoli. She looked to her right to her youngest upon being called. 

"What exactly are you training for?" Nyra asked and then took a bite of the chicken, resuming her search.

"Combat." Cassian grinned at her. "What are you looking for?"

"Care to elaborate? I'm looking for broccoli." Cassian noted that the bowl of vegetables including the broccoli was next to Mor. He spoke to Nyra and tried to keep her attention as much as possible while Mor discreetly pushed the bowl as quietly as possible to Azriel's part of the table. The shadowsinger looked at her once and nodded.

"You'd learn to be a badass like me."

"I highly doubt anybody wants to be like you, Cassian." Mor interjected. Azriel quietly lifted the bowl and stretched his arm. Nyra extended her own arm to take the bowl from him.

Azriel always wore fingerless gloves and today was no exception. It concealed his scarred hands as much as possible but the fingers were bare in case he needed to write or handle small objects. And right now, he felt Nyra's fingers brush against his under the bowl as she took it from him. He froze and slowly withdrew his hands. Soft hands. He wanted to hold them. Feel her hands on his chest, his neck. Wanted them tugging on his hair. And he’d die if one of them ever descended and snuck inside his pants.

"Moving on from that unsolicited comment, you'd be learning to control your breathing, balance your body, work on your muscles, throw nasty punches, wield weapons. Basically, you'd be a badass at fighting like me." Cassian already sounded excited at the possibility of teaching another Archeron how to fight.

"I'm sorry, Cassian, but I cannot participate."

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you want to stay grumpy and read all day like your twin." Cassian's gaze turned to Nesta who was doing her best at pretending that she was not the centre of his attention. Azriel did not know whether to envy his brother at being able to confidently look at Nesta even when the female seemed confused between killing him and fucking him.

"Reading is fun." Nyra frowned. "Being grumpy is not my preferred method of passing time. But I want to focus on training my magic. It is,” she lifted her left hand and looked at it. Lightning crackled between her fingertips. “Rather dangerous and I might end up hurting someone if I don’t learn how to control this.”

“I’ll help you with that.” Rhysand offered. 

“Nonsense. I’ll teach you. Both of you.” Amren declared and waited for anyone to challenge her decision. Nobody dared. Azriel wondered how this little demon would be while teaching the sisters. He’d have to monitor for the first few days at least. Cauldron knew whether the mouse-sized female would terrorise Nyra. And maybe not even the Cauldron would know how Nyra would react to that. As endearing as it was to him, Nyra’s moody self might not be appreciated everywhere. 

“Why the sudden interest, Amren?” Feyre asked teasingly.

“Your sisters, High Lady, possess powers like no other. They require training not only to wield it effectively and efficiently but also to keep themselves from harm.” Amren left it at that. 

****

"The King of Hybern." Feyre breathed deeply. And at the mention of the scum, everyone felt the power shift. The Archeron twins' eyes began glowing, albeit faintly. Nyra gripped the arms of her chair and Nesta clenched her fists. Azriel swallowed, trying to keep away the envy against the arms of the chair. To keep away the question as to why it was not his hands or arms that she was gripping so tightly. Those beautiful hands, as small as they were in comparison to his own, had quite the grip as observed by his shadows. Would she hold his arms or shoulders that tightly when he’d thrust into her? Would she scratch his back and mark him? 

"The king is trying to bring down the wall." Nyra began calming down, her curiosity taking over her rage slowly. She turned to Feyre, a silent command to continue speaking. "By using the Cauldron. There are already holes in it and he wants to expand them. I might be able to patch up these holes, but you... being made of the Cauldron itself... if the Cauldron can widen those holes, perhaps you can close them, too. With training in whatever time we have."

Nyra looked at Feyre, as if she were assessing something. "Fine. I'll do it." She turned to Amren. “Do you have anything introductory for me to read through the night or will your lessons be completely practical?” 

Amren brought her palm forward and a few books appeared. And then they vanished. “They’re in your room. Read as much as you can before tomorrow morning. We start at ten. And before you ask, it’s their responsibility to bring you lot to the city whenever you need.” 

“How do you expect her to read those overnight?” Cassian sounded outrageously shocked. 

“We will see that tomorrow.” Amren smirked at the spark in Nyra’s eyes. A challenge had been ignited. Azriel felt Nyra’s determination to win. What he did not realise was the quiet wave of encouragement he had sent across the bond. Nyra’s eyes widened at the warm feeling rising within her and before she could dwell on it any more, Feyre addressed Nesta.

"What about you?"

The sisters stared at each other impassively. "Fine." Nesta spoke in the same tone Nyra had—giving up the stubbornness.

"Good. We'll go to the Court of Nightmares with you and find objects for practice." Amren clapped her hands once.

"What?" Feyre immediately looked at the delicate female, the idea of her sisters going to the Court of Nightmares appalling to her. 

"Let the girls get a feel of something like the wall or like the Cauldron." Amren added when Azriel seemed poised to object. "Covertly."

“Is there something in the Court of Nightmares we should be worried about?” Nyra asked casually but the silence that followed was not so casual.

“The Night Court does not exactly have the best reputation.” Lucien spoke, breaking the silence. Cassian cursed and Azriel could feel his anger rise again and be a palpable thing that demanded he tear the red headed male to shreds. Nyra looked at Lucien and Azriel would have roared in anger if it weren’t for Rhysand’s presence right outside his mental shields, trying to subdue the beast that was him. 

Nevertheless, the Autumn-born continued oblivious to the bloodlust rolling off the shadowsinger. Bloodlust that was warded by Mor and Amren, Cassian physically restraining him and Rhys casting and maintaining a mental shield. 

Lucien continued. “To outsiders, this place is cold and cruel and Rhysand is a merciless High Lord. They believe it to be a structure of Hel in the land of the living and equally, if not more miserable.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Nyra spoke, her impatience rising. 

“This reputation stems from the way he holds court and from now on, how Rhysand and Feyre will hold court. He rules over them with an iron fist like some dark lord and it feels like a mausoleum in there. Blood and deceit coat those walls. People adorn masks to pretend like every gathering is a luxurious party when it’s just the inhabitants of Hewn City putting up a performance so that Rhys is not displeased.”

“And what happens when Rhysand is displeased?”

“The general executes. The spymaster tortures. Anything could happen.” 

And Azriel froze at what Lucien had revealed about him to Nyra. At the implications of it. How it could influence her opinion on him. On his family. He looked at Rhysand. Why did you not silence him?

She would have found out sooner or later. She will make her judgement after seeing us in the Court of Nightmares. Rhys sounded worried even after he said this. As if it was not only meant to convince Azriel but also himself. 

She deserves to be at peace. You of all people know how being strong can tire your spirits. She needs time to process this transition before she’s introduced to other horrors. Azriel all but yelled at his brother.

And I have no doubt you’d make it painful for anyone who dares to breathe wrong near her. Rhysand nodded once. We all will. The sisters won’t be harmed, not by any member of my Court or by any power in the Night Court territory so long as I’m alive. This is my promise. Azriel felt the tingling sensation of a bargain near his left waist. And even with a bargain, the shadowsinger was not in favour of this. 

Nyra could be taken to the Court of Nightmares after some time. After she had time to process all the trauma she had been recently subjected to. He seriously debated what was worse—facing horrors one after the other or facing them all at once. Nyra did note once that the former was what Nesta had gone through. He’d understood enough to know that Nesta’s mental health was in a very fragile condition.

Azriel only wanted Nyra to have enough time to process the transition before she learned about everything. He’d personally teach her as much as he could. He had no intentions of hiding or sugarcoating anything. He simply wanted her to have enough time to cope with the trauma and the stress it brought. 

Silence ensued. Feyre waited for Nesta to say something because this Archeron had been glaring at her plate for too long. To kill all hope. But she posed another question. "Why not just kill the King of Hybern before he can act?"

The shadow of death seemed to loom above them. Cassian, the Lord of Bloodshed, and Azriel, the shadowsinger, seemed to thrive off of it. Nyra and Nesta felt at ease, as though they were home. Death really seemed to be a comfort space for the four of them.

The room descended into the cold as Nesta’s eyes burned silver. The younger shadows around Nyra were trying to create a wall between the twins out of fear for their mistress’ safety. A few of his older shadows joined the endeavour. His hand went to the hilt of the Truth Teller. And with everyone on guard at how Nesta could release her mysterious power, Nyra’s hand broke through the shadowy barrier and grabbed her twin’s hand. Lightning crackled just a bit. Enough to jolt Nesta out of her trance. 

Silver bled into blue and Nyra released her hand. Nesta looked at her twin once and nodded. The twins resumed eating as though nothing had happened. As if Nesta’s presence had not suddenly made them feel like they were in a battlefield with their lives endangered. 

"If you want his killing blow, it's yours. Both of you." Amren said, her voice taking an understanding note. 

And as Nesta looked at Amren with the eyes of a predator, Nyra clenched her hands. She had already abandoned her cutlery but the way her power roared like a storm within her was becoming too much. She needed an outlet. The shadows around her wrists started tickling her hands and she was too scared of releasing her grip. Too scared of letting the power go away. And the storm was becoming uncontrollable. 

Azriel was beside her in an instant, his large hands covering her own. “Let it out.” That was all she heard. 

Thunder roared in the skies above Prythian. Lighting flashed a great many times. Nyra’s breathing became heavier. The shadows swarmed around her body and the darkness consumed them. She felt herself in an embrace, warm and strong. Nyra whimpered, her power starting to become painful. And through the bond, Azriel felt it all. And he held her through all of it. 

She released her power in that realm of shadows, enough to tire herself out. Azriel was surprised by how welcoming the shadows were. How the realm had welcomed the roar of her storms so easily. And he realised that this was not a change. It was a preexisting factor. And that the shadows were waiting for her just as much as him, if not more. The compatibility of his shadows with her lightning was showing itself. 

Her eyes glowed and her neck craned. She trembled under the weight of her own power, groaning and nearly screaming under the weight of her own power. Mistress. Lightning. Perfect. The shadows caressed her arms and hands. Azriel’s hands were on her waist and head, holding her close. 

“Nyra.” He called out when the lightning had stopped roaring. 

“Azriel?” Her voice was so small and confused, he was beginning to worry. “Where are we? Why is it so dark?”

“We are in the shadows.” He responded, worried about how she’d take that news but he couldn’t lie to her. She did not deserve to be lied to.

“I think I was here before.” Her voice was a clear indication of her tired state. She had released so much power that he clearly understood that she could take down all the High Lords and their armies easily. He could imagine the extent of her power if she were to be taught how to control it.

“Yes. The shadows told me that they brought you here earlier.”

Nyra did not say anything and he continued to hold her. 

“Are you embracing me?” Nyra asked. He could feel her hands trying to move around to analyse their surroundings only to fail because he was holding her close. 

“Yes.” His grip on her loosened and his soul faltered at the possibility of her not wanting his touch. After all, how could these desecrated hands touch her? However worthless he was, he did not want her to remain in the shadows if she was uncomfortable here. 

“Do you want me to release you? I must tell you that we do need to maintain contact to navigate back safely but we can simply hold hands.” And even when he’d used the word ‘simply’, there was nothing simple about holding her hand. How had he not already fainted? 

Nyra’s hands rose and her palms found his chest, fingers curling to grab the fabric. Azriel was suddenly afraid of breathing. Of making a single sound. He would have willed his heart to still if he could since it was beating so loud and fast. Her fingers were so gentle as they found his shirt to hold. 

“Did I hurt the shadows?” She asked softly. Azriel could hear the shadows whisper to him. How touched they were by her concern for them. “Did I hurt you?” It was a good time to fall into a ditch and stay there because Azriel severely doubted whether his knees had enough strength to stand and to not falter as he held her. 

“No, we’re fine.” He felt her shift, move just a bit to the back. If they could see each other, they would probably be looking at each other’s faces. 

“Are you sure?” She sounded determined to know if she’d hurt him or the shadows even in the slightest. And with that sweet voice of hers, she’d awakened something so wholly pure within him that he’d doubted whether that feeling would be corrupted by existing inside someone like him even if it was his own. 

Azriel had already believed that he was in heaven as he embraced her. Was it not the best thing to be able to touch her even though he was an undeserving bastard from the dirt? But he was a selfish bastard. And that selfishness demanded that he take every scrap she’d leave in her wake. Anything she’d throw at him. 

“Az?” That was the first time she’d called him by that nickname and his heart leaped to his throat at the realisation.

“Yes?” He held her because he was afraid to let go. And it felt good to take a page from her book and start acknowledging that. Not that he’d ever say it out loud but he was afraid. He’d lost his mate once and he certainly had no intentions of letting her go to some place he couldn’t follow. Or maybe, he could. He could follow her. The shadows let him travel anywhere and if she were to go to the afterlife like last time, he’d simply follow. The Truth Teller was always with him so he wouldn’t have much trouble arranging his own death. 

“I’m so tired.” She felt so much fear and pain and confusion and Azriel felt it all. He wondered whether being able to feel her through the bond helped her. If he could at least take a part of that pain for himself. 

“Go to sleep, Nyra. I’m right here.” The hand on her head began patting her. After a few moments, the hand stopped patting and began stroking her hair. Azriel pushed wave after wave of calm towards the bond and he felt her breathing slow down. And like a baby, she was asleep in his arms.

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel x oc #azriel x original character #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #acofas #a court of silver flames #acomaf #acosf #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel #nesta archeron #nessian #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #night court #velaris

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x you #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #call of duty smut

[tgcg]

the master baiter

TG: dont be mad

TG: ok thats like asking water not to be wet but

CG: WATER ISN'T FUCKING WET GOD DAMMIT.

TG: look whatever remember when you said you would die for me

TG: is that karkat in the room with us right now

======

CG: I'M DYING "FOR YOU" EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU PEEL OPEN THOSE SHIT-EATING LIPS YOU KEEP PULLED TAUT OVER YOUR DRONING IGNORANCE SHAFT.

TG: heheheh

======

CG: YOUR WORDSLUDGE SPEARS EVERY PARTICLE OF MY BODY WITH PINPOINT STRIDERIAN IDIOCY.

TG: oh shit here we go

CG: A VERBAL BARRAGE THAT PULVERIZES MY FLESH INTO A FINE RED MIST, KILLING ME INSTANTLY. WIPING ME THE FUCK OUT, TO SUCH AN INCREDIBLE DEGREE THAT PALEONTOLOGISTS CAN'T FULLY DISCERN IF A "KARKAT" FUCKING EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE.

CG: THEY'D BE SCRATCHING THEIR NUGBONES OVER IT FOR FUCKING SWEEPS, IF NOT FOR THE SHOCKING REALIZATION MERE MINUTES INTO THEIR DEBATES THAT NOBODY ACTUALLY GAVE A SHIT.

======

CG: AND YET THE TEMPORAL DEVICE STILL SWAYS TO AND FRO IN CONSTERNATION. VEXED BY THE COMPLETE MENTAL VACANCY PUT BEFORE IT BY MY HUMBLE SACRIFICE, BOUND BY ITS COSMIC ROLE, BEGRUDGED BY MY UNSOLICITED DEATH CLOCKING IT INTO OVERTIME. IT HAS BETTER SHIT TO DO, GOD DAMMIT! IT HAS A LUSUS AND A HIVE TO GET BACK TO!

CG: "WHAT IS THIS. WHO LET THIS ASSHOLE IN HERE," IT SAYS. THEY AREN'T EVEN QUESTIONS, JUST ORBITAL SIGHS OF AN UNCARING UNIVERSE. A REALITY NOW KEENLY AWARE OF ITS OWN LAUGH TRACK.

CG: AND ITS PENDULUM TEETERS, TENTATIVE IN ITS OWN DISBELIEF AND PROFOUND APATHY.

TG: damn

======

CG: "THIS SCUMBAG ISN'T EVEN GODTIER YET," IT POINTS OUT. THE AUDIENCE FLIPS THEIR COLLECTIVE SHIT, AGHAST AT THIS REVELATION.

TG: hahaha

CG: IT WELLS UP SUCH A THRUM OF FUCKING ENNUI THAT THE TIMEPIECE FLIPS OFF-KILTER, LANDING SQUARELY IN THE "DUMBASS" ZONE WITH A "FUCK IT" LOUD ENOUGH TO REVERBERATE THROUGHOUT PARADOX SPACE.

======

CG: IT THEN ELECTS TO KICK MY PATHETIC FUCKING HALF-CORPSE BACK INTO THE LIVING PLANE AND FORCE ME, VENGEFULLY FROM THE AUDACITY OF MY OWN IDIOCY, TO REPEAT THIS CYCLE AD NAUSEAM

CG: UNTIL EXISTENCE ITSELF FINALLY CROAKS UNDER THE COMBINED WEIGHT OF OUR COLOSSAL STUPIDITY.

CG: BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK WOULD I BE IF I EVER GOT TO HAVE A BREAK?

======

TG: yep there he is thats him offincer

TG: the man after my own heart

TG: thats a karkat brand "soft yes" if i ever heard one and i know my karkatisms dude im a goddamn graduate in karkatology

TG: i got my degree in this shit

TG: im rocking up to our convos with the dumbass black square hat thing cocked 45 degrees

TG: literally incapable of snapping it back kinda by design of the stupid thing but damn if im not doing it anyways im emanating the snappitudes

TG: im rocking my intelligence right now

TG: also water is absolutely wet dude its like the wettest thing on the planet

CG: I'M NOT REPEATING MYSELF AGAIN

TG: yeah you are

CG: FUCK. I AM.

======

CG: I SAID THE LAST THREE TIMES IT'S A CONDITIONAL TERM--

TG: and im saying its common sense like being wet isnt conditional when youre the perpetual thing of wettening

CG: NO

TG: and brother it is THE wet

TG: like following your conditional argument

TG: if water isnt wet then the other water molecules are constantly making each other fuckin wet so its a moot point

TG: great philosophical debate

TG: which came first the water or the wet?

CG: DAVE

TG: think about it all those particles are wetting each other up all the time and shit

TG: its a fucked up display

CG: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

======

TG: pretty much a perpetual orgy of the elements

CG: DUDE.

TG: that sounds kinda sick actually if you dont think about what it means

TG: h2orgy

CG: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO VETO THIS STUPID DISCUSSION--

TG: tell me im wrong dude

CG: I'M UNIVERSE-APPOINTED TO HOVER AROUND YOU POINTING OUT EVERY DUMBASS TAKE YOU HAVE FOR THE REST OF TIME.

TG: thats so beautiful to me

TG: i could cry

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #comix #the master baiter #tabbydraw #this is my answer to artblock #late nite tgcg surprise

[lordprettyflackotara]

slide || chris sturniolo

almost ?SMUT. MINORS STILL DNI 18+. everybody put your hands together for drug dealer chris!

Chris wasn’t a fan of doing anyone favors.

He enjoyed it in the beginning, befriending anyone he could to buy and sell product. Doing favors, asking favors. Establishing a long term fruitful relationship of trust. It was fun, his circle now so tight knit he couldn’t see past it.

What he didn’t enjoy, was his two brothers at his doorstep asking him for what he considered to be a massive favor. He had known about your existence for a while, purposefully ignoring you. After all, you were just another girl that Matt was probably fucking. Chris couldn’t help but wonder if he was wrong, both Nick and Matt acting like you were the most important person on the planet.

“So you see when he broke up with her she got super fuckin sad-”

“And usually we’ve made every effort to keep an eye on her-”

“But there’s a party tonight and we’re afraid she might wonder off and hookup with a sleezebag she might regret-”

“So we were just wondering if you could help us keep an eye on her since you um-” Nicks eyes briefly flickered into Chris’s room. “You know, sell at these kinds of things.”

Chris rolled his eyes. He never understood this kind of attachment, whether it was platonic or something more. “Ight fine, if she comes my way i’ll check on her.”

Chris didn’t need these parties, quite frankly. He sold enough cocaine to the bitches with rich daddy’s in beverly hills to where he didn’t even need to consider being here. But abandoning his original client base wasn’t honest, especially when the consumers hunger palette was diverse. He kept cocaine away from these parties, his display full of the usual pill bottles with weed and different party drugs.

He knew the owner of this house well, his set up upstairs in the attic. It was quiet enough to where it wouldn’t be discovered if you weren’t looking for it. A small brown table sat in front of the coffee he was sprawling across, a joint hanging from his lips. He decided to take his time weighing and separating the rest of the weed, nothing else better happening anyways. Chris knew not being honest with his brothers was wrong, but he didn’t feel any remorse.

The further your goody two shoe’s ass stayed away from him the better.

The night was going by smoothly for Chris, his usual customers eager to drop in and buy whatever they wanted. He had completely forgotten about you, until he heard a set of heels coming upstairs. Chris knew this meant one of two things. Either a girl was coming to buy, most likely offering head as payment or someone was lost. His blue eyes flickered up to the staircase, a very unsteady you appearing through the smoky haze.

Your eyes met his, an electric shock going down Chris’s spine. “Oh shit, you’re Chris aren’t you?” You asked, offering him a small smile. Chris removed the joint from his lips, kashing it out on the table. “Depends on who’s asking,” He replied, his face smug. You ignored his smugness walking over to him. You extended your hand for a handshake. “I’m y/n, i’m friends with Matt and Nick. You guys uh, kinda share the same face,” You say. Chris eyed you carefully. “So you’re the sad girl,” He hummed.You seemed completely harmless and if anything, absolutely adorable. Chris met your hand, giving you a firm handshake. “I would introduce myself but you already know who I am,” He huffed, resuming weighing the weed in his other hand.

Your gaze wondered over to his product table, one of his eyebrows raising. “You interested in buying kid?” He asked. You were soaking in the entirety of the table, examining every little thing. You swallowed, nodding. “Yeah, i’ll take some molly,” You say, reaching into your skirt for some cash. Chris audibly scoffed. “The fuck you will,” He spat. Your eyebrows furrowed, staring down at him. His legs were spread, his gaze now falling onto that pretty face of yours. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Chris chuckled. “You’ve never touched a joint in your life. I’m not selling you pills because you’re going through some shit,” He said harshly. Your face fell, your defensive stance changing into one of embarrassment. Chris was a harsh person, his words stinging more than he usual meant for them to. “Sorry kid, I won’t let you hurt yourself,” Chris apologized quietly. Your eyes were glazed with sadness, the kind Chris was all too familiar with. He cleared his throat, grabbing a freshly rolled joint from his product table. He held it up to you. “I’ll let you smoke this, as long as you let me teach you how to inhale properly,” Chris offered, giving you a small smile.

“How much?” You asked, reaching into your skirt for your wadded up twenties. Chris held up one hand, signaling for you to stop. “I’ll cover it, first joints are rare and your case, free,” He said, holding the joint up to show you. Your face lit up like a christmas tree, your heels clicking as you joined him on the couch. Chris brought the joint to his lips, grabbing a lighter from his jeans pocket. Your beautiful eyes were filled with curiosity and wonder, watching as he sparked the lighter. The flame ignited the joint, Chris’s lungs inhaling and soaking in the high. He exhaled through his nose, handing you the joint. “Alright kid, take it slow. Just inhale,” Chris guided, watching you slowly put the joint to your lips.

You were so cute and innocent, Chris finding himself softly chuckling as you inhaled. You immediately coughed, Chris digging in his backpack and handing you a water bottle. The gesture was sweeter than he meant it to be, your eyes watering as you grabbed the plastic bottle from him. He watched you gulp the water, the joint sitting between your fingertips. The kash was about to fall on your bare knee, Chris’s hand quickly falling on yours to grab the joint. “Shit kid don’t burn yourself,” Chris murmured, another electric shock flying down his spine as his hand brushed against yours.

Chris had hoped you hadn’t noticed the subtle heat rushing to his cheeks. Or his reaction to the comforting warmth of your hand. Thankfully you were too occupied in chugging your water, your throat engulfed in unfamiliar flames. You set the bottle of water down, giggling as you looked over at Chris. Your eyes were full of determination, a mischievous smile creeping up your lips.

“Can I try again?”

Chris had to admit you were cute, trying to inhale the joint the way he was instructing you to. It was refreshing being around a girl who wasn’t trying to impress him or get something from him. A girl who wasn’t from his side of the street. It felt like no time had passed when you had finally learned how to properly inhale. “There you go kid. You’ll be able to ghost in no time i’m sure,” Chris said, patting your knee. You exhaled the smoke, passing the joint back to Chris.

He watched goosebumps spread across your skin, his eyebrows furrowing. You were in something awfully skimpy, a black leather skirt and a matching top that made your breast stick out. Chris concluded this outfit wasn’t yours, surely. “Are you cold?” He asked suddenly. You were about to question him, the brunette answering the question for you. He shrugged off his gray jacket, handing it to you. “Put it on. I don’t wanna hear it from my brothers if you get sick,” He said, making an excuse to make sure you were warm. You also looked painfully cute in his jacket.

Your eyes trailed over his chest in his white wife beater as you shrugged the jacket on. It reeked of weed and cologne, a mixture you were beginning to love. “Thank you,” You say quietly. It was oversized on you, the cool air seemingly unnerving Chris. The silence that ensued was comforting, a compliment fixing to spill from his lips. Instead he stopped himself, not wanting to get too attached to you. “So, bad break up huh?” Chris asked, trying to change the topic.

You shrugged, tossing the hood of the jacket over your head. “Yeah I guess you could say that,” You replied. Chris leaned back against the couch, raising an eyebrow. “So, you wanna tell me what happened or do you wanna talk about something else?” Chris asked. He could practically see the debate forming in your head. He could only imagine how you were feeling, sadness mixed in with a newly found high. Shit, he was a bad influence on you. “I’d rather talk about something else. I’m trying to forget about him more than anything,” You say. Your eyes met his, the whites of your eyes glazed over with a familiar reddish pink.

“Or we could, you know, do something else,” You say shyly. Chris felt his heart skip a beat, that familiar electrical feeling ensuing again. This weed wasn’t laced right? He had been in much more lewd situations. Chris had been around the block more than once. Your suggestive words were making him feel like a preteen. “Nuh uh. Nope. I don’t take virginities kid,” Chris declined. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, not by any means. But you were too precious, too pure for him to ruin. To bring into his world of chaos. “Who said I was asking you to?” You questioned. Chris sighed, his eyes flickering down to your thighs.

“Probably the way you’ve been rubbing your thighs together for the past five minutes,” He replied. There was a pregnant pause of silence, Chris’s mouth suddenly running dry. Why did you make him feel this way? “Well maybe we could, I don’t know, fool around instead,” You suggested. Chris raised his eyebrows. “Fool around?” He questioned. He knew exactly what you meant, but he relished in the sight of your face turning pink. “You know what I mean,” You reply shyly. Chris shook his head, noticing the party was dying down. The music was being turned down, the sound of chatter decreasing.

“I don’t think I do. What are you talking about kid?” He asked you. Your face turned a deeper shade of red, the sight enough to make Chris’s cock throb. “Like uh. Fingering and head and stuff,” You answer awkwardly. Chris licked his bottom lip. Damn, Matt has to be stupid if he hasn’t noticed how adorable you are. Chris chuckled. “And head and stuff?” He laughed. You playfully shoved his arm. “Dont make fun of me i’m in college and haven’t done anything beyond making out,” You admitted. You had unintentionally brought yourself closer to him, your bodies only an inch apart.

The tension in the room was increasing quickly, Chris’s eyes flickering over to yours. “And you wanna change that? With a guy you just met?” Chris asked, skeptical. He tilted his head to the side, grabbing a blunt off of the table. “Never would’ve taken you for a horny little thing once you smoke a bit,” Chris teased. You rolled your eyes. “I technically have just met you but i’ve known about you forever,” You replied defensively. Chris ignited the blunt, watching the orange grow as he inhaled. “Cmere, wanna try something with you,” Chris murmured. He couldn’t give in, he wouldn’t give in.

He wouldn’t corrupt you. Not yet. You were too innocent. Too pretty. “Put this to your lips and inhale. Just stay very still for me,” Chris hummed. He guided the blunt to your lips, your doe eyes meeting his. He placed his lips over the other end, both of you inhaling at the same time. Chris couldn’t help but hold your gaze, admiring you. He had shotgunned a blunt with endless people, yet it felt so different with you. So intimate. His lungs demanded for him to pull away, so he did. He exhaled and watched you do the same, coughing as you smiled at him. “That was so hot, holy shit,” You laughed, tears flooding your waterline.

Chris leaned forward, wiping away a salty tear that was beginning to form. The pad of his thumb was gentle across your skin, your cheeks flushing red again. You were so easy to get riled up, so flustered. You leaned forward, placing the blunt on a rolling tray. Your lips were an inch from Chris’s your body yearning for his. “I meant it kid. I won’t fuck you,” Chris huffed, his hand not straying from your cheek. You swallowed, a boys set of lips never looking more appealing. “You don’t have to, just kiss me,” You said. Your eyes flickered to his briefly, before looking back down at his lips. You then added, “Please.”

Chris didn’t consider himself a weak man, but you made him one, He pressed his lips to yours, soaking in the faint taste of mint and weed. You met his lips eagerly, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip. He couldn’t help but want to deepen it, but feel you more. You allowed him in, grinning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He was intoxicating, the room suddenly feeling a million degrees. Chris’s hands fell to your waist, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

He pulled you onto his lap, your thighs straddling him. “You a good kisser for a virgin,” Chris teased, before grabbing the back of your neck to guide your lips back to his. You giggled as you shoved his chest, lowering your hips against his. The rest of the party seemed to disappear, the only thing existing in this life being you. You giggled as you hovered above him, your gorgeous thighs straddling him. Chris bucked his hips upwards, relishing in the sound of a soft groan escaping your lips. “Thought you weren’t gonna fuck me,” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Did you have any idea how addicting you were? “I’m not and I won’t, doesn’t mean I won’t tease you though,” Chris replied, kissing down the side of your face to your neck. His hands slithered back down to your waist, teasingly gripping the flesh. You felt like your body was on fire, Chris the only remedy for what you needed. “Chris,” You whimpered, his lips attaching themselves to your sweet spot. He would make sure not to leave a hickey that was too dark. He briefly pulled away, hovering over the purple skin. “Hmm? Need something?” He hummed. You grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking him back to look at you.

Your assertiveness caused by desperation made his cock throb. “Please touch me. I’ll repay you. Just, please,” You begged. You were so pretty, begging above him like this. You grinded your waist down onto his hard cock, biting your lower lip. Chris flipped you both around, your back hitting the back of the couch as he kneeled before you. “You’re that desperate huh? Want me to make you feel good?” Chris asked. You were practically trembling, his lips peppering kisses on your thighs. “Are you sure about this kid? You’re shaking and I haven’t even touched you yet,” Chris questioned, his voice laced with concern.

“I’m sure, please,” You whimpered. Chris slowly pulled up your skirt, placing teasingly slow kisses on the inside of your thighs. He hovered over your clothed cunt, pressing a kiss onto your panties. He could feel how soaked you were for him. The feeling alone made his cock throb in his jeans. Fucking hell.

“Yo Chris! You up here?”

The sound of Matt’s voice made your eyes go wide, Chris quick to react. He quickly pulled himself onto the couch, pulling down your skirt. He zipped up his jacket, covering your skimpy outfit and flusteredness. Two sets of footsteps were approaching quickly, whom he could only assume to be Matt and Nick. He tried to act nonchalant, leaning forward to cover his obvious and aching boner. By the time they reached the top of the stairs you thought your heart was going to fail.

“Oh hey I see you found Chris, looks just like us doesn’t he?” Matt asked, smiling as he plopped down on the couch beside you. He threw his arm around your shoulders, your eyes flickering to Chris’s. You were a flustered mess and he hadn’t even had a chance to taste you. “Oh for fuck sake Christopher don’t tell us you sold to her,” Nick huffed. He frowned disapprovingly as Chris began to pack up, shoving his products in his backpack. “I’d never sell to her, I have morals contrary to popular belief,” Chris argued, rolling his eyes. He noticed Matt’s arm around you, but he tried his hardest to pretend he didn’t.

“I better get going, got a meeting early tomorrow,” Chris huffed. Truthfully he didn’t feel like playing pretend around his brothers nor did he feel like hiding his aching boner. He shrugged his backpack over his shoulders, heading downstairs without so much as giving you a second glance. He didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want his brothers to embarrass him in front of you. He reached his ride outside, starting to slide into the backseat.

It wasn’t until he felt a hand grab his backpack that he turned around. He tried his hardest to hide his smile filled with relief. You followed him. “Do you um want your jacket back?” You asked shyly. Chris gave you a warm smile. “Nah kid, consider it yours,” He said. He stood in front of you, his friends yapping away in the front seats to each other. “Chris about what just happened in there I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-” You began rambling. Chris pulled the hood of the jacket off of your head, brushing some stray hairs behind your ears.

“You’ve got it all wrong kid. The very last thing you did was make me uncomfortable. I wanna see you again, away from my dumbass brothers,” Chris told you, cutting off the sound of your sweet voice. He allowed himself to lean forward, his lips dying to meet yours. “Let me pick you up tomorrow. Take you on an actual date. Wine and dine you,” Chris said. You found yourself leaning closer to him, the urge to press your lips against his. “I’d like that,” You replied softly.

“I’ll slide through tomorrow, round five. I got some shit to take care of before I come by,” Chris said. Behind you he could see Matt and Nick waving goodbye to some friends, about to walk onto the front porch. Chris pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, dipping into the car before his brothers could see him. He rolled down his window, holding up his pinky.

“I promise i’ll slide through tomorrow.”

You had a decision to make, whether or not to trust a drug dealer you had just met. You smiled as you wrapped your pinky around his, giving him your trust.

“Good, i’ll be waiting.”

a/n: this is my first time dropping a fic without smut lmaooo. didn’t feel right w chris being all mysterious drug dealer core 🕵🏻‍♀️.

#chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

[pinkiemachine]

I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

#fan art #art #dc #dc comics #batman #Bruce wayne #Selina Kyle #Catwoman #batxcat

[dontbelasagne]

desperately need to do a presentation on why the Twelfth Doctors journey perfectly represents the transfem experience

their previous eleventh incarnation being suave and hypersexual (i know moffat is mostly to blame but!) is reminiscent of attempts to fit into heteronormative ideals of masculinity. whilst it is not completely insincere, there are obvious signs this does not fit you as a person, it is acted out of desperate need to being seen. as Vastra put it, eleven wore that face, and subsequently that form of masculinity, to be accepted. on becoming twelve, realising even an "idealised" masculinity does not inherently serve them, they retreated into themselves as a person for self-reflection and trying to understand why they feel so detached from who they are.

the "am i a good man" arc mirrors being closeted and having to present as something not inherently tied to your sense of self, but still wanting to be the best of your perceived gender as any failure could leave you spiralling into self-doubt about simply being like any other "man". you ignore your gender dysphoria/questioning by trying to claim a moralistic view of gendered expression. made even more clear by Twelve rejecting Clara's heroic view of them, establishing that even though they have made efforts to be a "good man", that is just a placeholder for their loss of identity.

Missy appearing as she does, who as a character serves as a parallel to The Doctor on what they could become, and her eventual arc in trying to become good is symbolic of the fear around transition regret that internalised transphobia can create when you are closeted. Missy never gives importance to their fem existence other than nonchalant jokes, rather showing a more free and expressive personality devoid of any frustration. this immediately dismisses the transphobic assumption that trans people are only focused on their gender. also, Missy representing trans femininity is inherently tied to chaos and upsetting the status quo, she is the embodiment of what society considers accepting your womanhood as someone previously labelled masculine. what many others, and The Doctor themselves, saw as a need for attention and senseless disruption is Missy not needing to serve a false version of who they are, that they can now focus on becoming whoever they want to be now without losing energy to performing a gender that society has imposed on you. Missy could never have made the decision to stand with The Doctor if she had not given importance to her own queerness.

it wasn't coincidence with meeting Bill, she was the perfect foil for The Doctor to finally let go of their anxious attachment to masculinity. i would even argue for the majority of s10, The Doctor is largely ambiguous in their gender identity and does not fit into any construction of masculinity or femininity. whilst they still present as something socially labelled as masculine, they do not internalise that gender expression. they are uncaring about and not needing the validity that comes with heteronormativity, and thus is free to finally accept the decision they have to make. as Bill says, it is so hard to let go of The Doctor, and that rings true for twelve themselves. but they begin to realise The Doctor can be anyone. yes, they are tired, it would be so easy to simply rest and not give value to who you can become. but choosing to let go of everything you once were to survive is better than oblivion. it is better to let go, to choose another lifetime where the only person that dies is your falsity, to finally get it right and choose kindness. for yourself and for those who you love. they regenerate, not just into another person, but into someone who (if only tv scripts...) can now move forward.

#can you tell the only thoughts i have are of twelve? #this is why im kind of disappointed with the thirteenth doctors arc #like sure they're allowed dimensions as a character and to have dark moments #but there was a chance to show the nuances with relearning how to live and accept joy for yourself #as someone who has grieved and suffered loss and is detached #i know these themes arent just about transhood but dont you think they fit so beautifully? #this makes me want to bounce off the walls #doctor who #dw #twelfth doctor #peter capaldi #12th doctor #thirteenth doctor #jodie whittaker #13th doctor #long post

[rachalixie]

a/n: a little thing i scrapped from a fic i'm writing for my baby star @forlix :) i love you. i choose you. <333

“lix?” you ask, tentativeness lining the single syllable like even your voice knew that what you were about to say was a little silly. “why did you choose me?”

“what do you mean?” he hums, his fingers faltering on his keyboard as he tries to split his attention between you and the colorful pixels on the screen. 

“like, why me? you could have had anyone you wanted,” you bite your tongue, not quite understanding why these words were coming out here and now. 

“what do you mean.” he repeats, more of a statement than a question now, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. he turns around completely, facing you and letting his character die a tragic death on the screen behind him. “are you serious?”

“i- no?” you sigh, not quite meeting his eyes. “yes. kind of? i don’t know.”

“y/n,” he rolls his chair close to you until your knees were touching, and he takes your hands in his, stopping you from wringing your fingers together. “it wasn’t a choice, you know that right? the stars brought us together, you’re mine in every way that i am yours.”

“right but,” you start, feeling grateful when he squeezes your hands in a silent go on, i’m here to listen. “if you could make that choice. if you didn’t want what the universe chose for you. then what?”

“if it was a choice to make, i would choose you every single time,” he slides off the chair, falling to his knees in front of you. “in every universe, in every reality, in every single world that exists, i choose you. over and over.”

“yes, but why?” and that is the root of it all - it was less of a deep rooted problem of insecurity and more of a lack of understanding. 

“god, i love you,” he looks up at you, so reverent that you feel your breath catch on nothing. “you’re perfect for me. no matter how many flaws you think you have, you compliment me in every single way. i didn’t know someone like you could exist for me in this world, and if i ever lost you i’d spend the rest of my days alone because no one can compare to you.”

“you think of me like that?” you try to ignore the stinging in your eyes and the burning in your nostrils that signal that you were going to cry. you knew the answer; you felt that way about him, too.

“yes,” he says, simple and ringing with truth. “you’re my perfect little star, the one i wish on every night. i look up at the sun and i think of you simply because we live under the same one. i could go on but - do you understand, now?”

“i do,” you smile. and while looking at him, the moon that hangs bright in your night skies, you truly do understand. 

—

soft hours

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #felix fluff #felix imagines #felix x reader

[unreliablesnake]

Play stupid games... (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: Simon agrees to pose as your boyfriend for the holidays. Since he has been in love with you for years, it turns out to be quite a bad decision.

Note: It took me a long time. But it's here now. Happy new year!

Simon had known you for almost three years now, spending most of this time thinking about asking you out. But he never did it. Why would you agree to be with him when he usually disappeared for months all of a sudden because of his job? Since he didn’t want to risk losing you for good, he decided to keep his feelings to himself, silently suffering every time you cried on his shoulder after a breakup, or when you couldn't shut up about your new boyfriend.

But then one day, maybe a week before Christmas, you stood there in front of his door with this big, Cheshire cat smile on your face, hands folded behind your back as you watched him. “Can I come in?” you chimed, and how could he say no to that?

Little did he know you would come up with a plan so risky he would for the very first time consider saying no to you. He didn't like the idea, not one bit, mostly because he didn't feel like lying to your family. A family that probably didn't even know he existed.

“Come on, Simon, I never ask for anything,” you tried with a sweet smile.

He knew you were right. You never even asked him to come and fix something around your place, or to give you a ride after a long night out with your friends. This was, after all, nothing more but a small favor, a little lie he would have to keep up until the holidays were over.

“If I agree to do this,” he began slowly, not missing the hopeful shine in your eyes, “you will have to lie to your parents and other relatives, telling them we've been together for months. Are you sure you're ready for it?”

You inched closer on the couch, a delicate hand resting on his knee as you looked him in the eye. “Look, they usually hate the guys I invite, but they keep asking why I'm single if I arrive alone. I just know they wouldn't dare to pick a fight with you. Scary dog privilege and all.”

With a sigh, Simon leaned his head on the back of the couch as he looked up at the ceiling. He always wanted to know what it would be like to be with you. What it would be like to hold your hand, to have you snuggled up to him on the couch, or to kiss you. This plan of yours gave him the perfect chance to experience all of these during the holidays.

And so a few days later the two of you were standing in front of the door of your parents' house, hand in hand, of course, because who would think he was a simple friend when your fingers were laced with his so tightly. He didn't mind; no, he actually liked it a lot. It was good for the both of you, making you calmer and more focused on this night ahead.

“Oh, look at that, you made it on time this year! I’m so happy to have you here. Come on in, you two,” an older woman said with a bright smile as she clapped her hands excitedly.

She was acting as if she was in her twenties, dressing in clothes which gave away that she wasn’t exactly in a good shape. But Simon bit his tongue before he could say anything offensive, staying silent even when you made a barely noticeable comment regarding her choice of clothing. Was she really that dumb? That woman kept talking as if you’d said nothing; she was either too stupid to pick up on your words, or decided to completely ignore them.

“Your parents are in the kitchen, helping David with the dinner. I wouldn’t advise you to go there, you know what David’s like when he cooks. But your cousin Allistair has been looking for you.”

And with that she turned around and walked away, not even bothering to excuse herself. Simon raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at you. “Am I invisible?” he asked half-jokingly, the corners of his lips turning upwards when you put your free hand on his chest. He wondered if you could feel how his heart was racing at that moment from your touch.

You let out a sigh as you looked around, searching the rooms you could see from the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t mind her, she thinks all of my relationships are doomed. You’re just a random guy I brought with myself in her eyes,” you explained once you turned back to him.

“At the end of the day that’s all I am,” he noted quietly. You asked him what he said, but Simon just shook his head without repeating the sentence.

Allistair turned out to be a pretty cool guy. He was Scottish, cocky, and funny, which reminded him of Johnny. Unlike your aunt, he actually greeted him, asking about him before starting a long speech full of embarrassing stories from your youth. Simon was grateful and he didn’t even feel like moving on and meeting other members of your family.

But when one particular story came up, you were quick to interrupt him and drag Simon away from your cousin. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t hear that one. Let me introduce you to my parents.”

The parents. Great. Apparently you had been planning this for months, telling your parents stories about your tough military boyfriend they couldn’t meet because he was often away. You knew perfectly well he would agree, and this made him wonder if he was too naive for his own good. You were playing him like a violin and he shouldn’t be like this, acting like some stupid, lovesick teenager.

All of his worry disappeared when you took his hand, though. “What are you doing to me?” he muttered quietly to himself.

You came to a halt and turned to him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

After a nod, you continued your journey to the kitchen, dragging him along through the empty hallway. When you reached your destination, you immediately flashed a wide smile at the people inside before going closer to greet them properly. Simon found it awkward to just stand there and wait. The last time he had been introduced to parents and relatives was in his teenage years a long time ago. He was out of practice.

You returned to him soon and put your hands on his upper arm. “Mom, Dad, David, he’s Simon, my boyfriend,” you said as you grinned up at him.

Simon’s heart melted at the sight. He wished he could kiss your pretty lips, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Your mother gave him a warm smile before quickly washing her hands and walking over to see him from up close. For a few seconds she was just silently studying his face, and then she put a hand on your shoulder as she gave you a serious look.

“He’s really handsome, honey, good choice. And a military man! I’m sure he can keep you safe.”

She then introduced herself and the others, the men even came over to shake his hand. Simon talked to all three, answering a series of questions about his relationship with you. He didn’t mind since the two of you had previously fabricated nice little stories to tell your family.

Once they returned their attention to the dinner they had left unattended for a short while, you took his hand again before pulling his head down with the other to kiss him. It was just for show, he knew it, but it still felt so real, so good, and he was on cloud nine. Maybe he was just imagining things, but he could have sworn you were smiling up at him like a satisfied cat once he pulled away.

The rest of the evening was a walk in the park after meeting your parents and convincing them you were dating for real. Simon often took your hand, drawing circles into your skin absentmindedly as he had a conversation with a relative of yours. They seemed to like him, although there was a little girl who always ran back to her parents when he came too close to her.

After the guests began to leave, you announced your departure as well, and Simon took you home like a good boyfriend. You gave him a kiss on the cheek next to the car when you got there, then said goodbye and headed to the building. But he couldn’t just let you go like that, he had made up his mind during the evening that he would finally tell you how he felt.

“Wait,” he said as he went after you. You stopped and turned around with a questioning hum, but instead of giving you a verbal answer, he started with a proper kiss. You seemed surprised at first, but then you returned it for his relief. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, you know,” he said when he pulled back.

“Oh.”

That was all you said. He didn’t expect you to say it back, but he still expected you to say something more than this. Yes, it was probably a lot to take in, but you could have said you needed time to think about it, that it took you by surprise and you weren’t sure you knew what you wanted. But no. That was all he got.

“I should go,” you said with a gulp before going inside, twisting the knife in his heart with this reaction.

Weeks passed without him hearing from you. During that time he had to go back to base, and becoming Ghost once again took his mind off you. There he was a soldier, not Simon. He couldn’t let his emotions make him unfocused. But despite his best efforts, Price noticed that something was different. That something was off about his lieutenant.

So one evening he summoned Simon, officially to talk about a situation on the other side of the planet, unofficially to find out what was wrong with him. “Can I offer you a drink?” Price asked him when he sat down. When the lieutenant shook his head, he let out a sigh and sat down behind the desk. “I consider you a friend, Simon. I hope you know you can always talk to me.”

A groan left his throat upon hearing this. Price knew Simon, but here he was Ghost. He had to be Ghost, otherwise he would go insane. Because every night when he was left alone with his thoughts, he found himself staring at the screen of his phone, thinking about you. Should he call you? Should he send you a message?

“You don't have to, but it might help,” Price pressed on, but he only raised a hand and shook his head. “Listen, I know your head is here with us. I appreciate that. But you need to talk to someone. Is this about your family? The anniversary of what happened to them?”

Shaking his head again, the lieutenant leaned back in the chair. “It's not about my family, I made peace with that. Sort of. As cliche as it sounds, it's about a woman. I don't know what to do.”

Price lit a cigar as he watched him. They weren't that far apart in age, and he had a feeling the captain considered him a friend at the end of the day. It wasn't unusual for the two of them to go out for a drink between missions, discussing quite a lot of things, including each other's private life. While he didn't have much to say, his superior talked a lot about his family and women he was chasing.

“Tell me. What happened?”

“I kissed her and she stopped talking to me,” he said, opting to give the short answer to the captain. He sent a disapproving look in his way, clearly expecting a little more than that. After a gulp, he went on. “All right. So she asked me to pose as her boyfriend for the holidays. I agreed because I’m a fucking idiot who had been in love with her ever since we met. After we spent the evening with her family, I took her home and kissed her. I tried to call her, but she ignored me. I think she's mad.”

“You shouldn't have done that,” Price told him calmly. Simon was a little confused, and no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't figure out what he meant. Probably seeing the look on his face, the captain let out a sigh, blowing out some smoke. “Playing her boyfriend. You shouldn't have done that if you love her. It just makes you more desperate.”

Simon nodded. “You're right.”

“Well… Maybe she just needs time. But I don't know her, so,” he said, finishing the sentence with a shrug. “Gaz tells me a lot about his issues with women, but I swear he handles it better than you do.”

“Thanks. That helps a lot,” the lieutenant said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Why don't I ever hear about your issues? It's always so easy for you based on your stories.”

“What can I say? I'm good at charming the ladies,” Price replied, a laugh filling the room as he got rid of the remains of the cigar.

Over a month later Simon finally went home, and a few days after his arrival he found himself lying on his bed in the middle of the day, staring at the ceiling as he thought about calling you. Would you finally pick up and talk to him? In the end he decided to send you a text instead.

Simon: Hey. Wanna meet me for a drink?

Two excruciatingly long hours later a notification showed up on his screen.

You: Sure. Where?

Simon: My place? I'll order dinner.

You: Not sure that's a good idea.

Simon: Come on.

You: All right, fine.

You arrived not long after the conversation, holding a bottle of wine you two often drank on nights like this. The situation was awkward as Simon didn't really know what to do or say. A part of him wanted to apologize for the kiss, hoping you could forgive him and continue your friendship as if nothing happened. But another part was ready to beg you to be open-minded now.

When the door closed behind you, he leaned against it and watched as you slipped out of your sneakers and walked into the kitchen as if you lived there. A smile crept on his lips at the thought of you living with him. That would be nice. He could get used to the idea.

The next time he laid his eyes on you, you already had two glasses of wine in your hands, getting closer to him with a small smile. “You surprised me with that kiss,” you finally spoke up.

Simon took the glass from you, suddenly feeling nervous. “You didn’t forget about it.” You shook your head before taking a sip of your drink. “I’m sorry, I just… I know that was a lot to dump on you that night.”

“No, it’s okay. I had some time to think. You’re a great guy, Simon, any girl would be lucky to have you by their side,” you began to explain, causing him to let out a long sigh of defeat. “I’m one of those girls.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” With a short laugh, you immediately nodded and stood on your toes in front of him. “Does this count as our first date?”

He leaned down a little to give you a quick kiss. “No, you have to take me somewhere nice,” you told him.

“I’ll think of something.”

“Think of the place where we went after that party all those years ago. You know, when we first met.”

This surprised Simon. He tilted his head to the side as he watched you with a confused look on his face. “That was a McDonald’s.” You shrugged with a smile. “God, I love you.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #modern warfare #call of duty #mw2 #mw3

[yrluvjane]

The Things I Hate About You

Sirius Black x fem!reader

"We're supposed to be doing this together! Professor Flitwick assigned pairs! You think if we were given the choice, I'd pair up with you?!" Y/n angrily shouted at Sirius.

Sirius scoff's then gives off a humorless laugh. "Please, everyone wants to pair up with me! And I don't get why you're so pissed off, it's not like you'll do anything."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want to do my homework? Maybe, unlike the bimbo's you hang out with everyday, I want to study and graduate. I want to have a future! And I won't let you -you insufferable twat- take that away from me!"

"That's rich coming from you!" He shouts facing you with an expression of rage that could rival yours.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I may hang out with 'bimbo's' the whole day but you are the one with a new boyfriend every week! So don't shame me, Y/n, you are just like me!"

"I am certainly nothing like you! And my love life has nothing to do with you!"

"Love life? Love, is that what that is? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It must be exhausting for someone as bitter as you to love someone that long."

Y/n gasped, shocked to silence. Her eyes roamed his face that was inches away from hers, contorted into anger, his grey eyes seemed to have darken yet there was undeniably another emotion laying there.

They stood, staring unblinkingly at each other as if they were in a contest until Sirius gave up and sighed loudly. He cursed under his breath, running his hands down his face.

He slumped down at a nearby chair and began rubbing his temples and forehead, tiredly. As she watched him, in this new light, her eyes took notice to his disheveled state.

From the dark bags under his stormy eyes, to the way his shoulder-length was messed up as if someone kept running their fingers through them all the time, to the way Sirius looked at the ground as if he was having a mental battle.

"Sirius-" She began softly but the wizard cut her off. "Just go." He said tiredly, as he looked up at you with pleading eyes. "Just go, go have fun...Go to your new boyfriend." He said sadly at first but his voice edged at the end, emphasizing at the 'new boyfriend' part.

"I can do the Theory of Animal transfiguration and you can do Human. I'll have it done by tomorrow night." He said, "Just leave, Y/n. I just want to be alone and think right now." He said.

She gave him one last look of concern before nodding slightly to herself. "I'll see you later, Sirius.. Take care.." She said slowly as she left the room and shut the door behind her, almost missing Sirius's voice. "Dammit!" He swore angrily, kicking a nearby chair.

Sirius Black had successfully went from annoying the living daylights out of you to completely ignoring your existence. Every time, since the fight, your tried talking to him he was either:

Suddenly missing something or had forgotten about a class.

In a deep conversation with a very awkward and nervous-looking James Potter .

Having his tongue down Marlene’s throat.

The last one was the one that bothered you the most, Sirius was known for his playboy streak and was almost never seen with same girl twice, except for Marlene. Because of this, many rumors and theories were spread. Each more absurd than the rest, but even then, the sight of them together made a very tight and twisted knot in your stomach.

And the whole thing was making you lose your mind. Sirius no longer bothered you and that bothered you. You had completely lost any interest in any of your studies and the fact he was taking this much of your focus and concentration was embarrassing enough.

You had spent three whole days trying to understand this abnormal rage brewing in your chest, which then you realized was jealousy. You were jealous of Marlene. Because you liked Sirius. The realization hit you like a brick to your head.

You kept trying to push the thought away, trying to simplify as a side effect of all the studying you’ve been doing. And so you did, you took a break and went to Hogsemede.

But every time you saw Sirius and Marlene, you had this urge to punch both of them.

You only realized how stupid you sounded, when you took Madam Promfery’s advice and wrote all your feelings on paper.

You truly sounded like the main character of cliché enemies-to-lovers story, all you were missing was a best friend that would betray you and try to take Sirius away.

And all this led up to this moment right now.

You currently watched the hallway you were standing in waiting for Sirius to appear. It took you three whole days to plan this and you were quite anxious.

You took deep breathes hoping to calm your nerves but they only sky rocketed when the sound of footsteps reached your ears.

Your head snapped up and your eyes met Sirius's, causing alarms to blare in your head. His eyes widened and was about to say something but before he could even get a word in you pulled your wand out and petrified him.

"Oh my God, okay, okay. This is completely fine." You said to yourself as you levitated Sirius's body to an empty class room and faced his frozen body.

"Sorry, I just need you to listen and obviously there are more...comfortable ways to do this but this had the most promising outcome."

You took one last deep breathe and pushed your hair to the back of your ears. "Okay, I like you, like you like you. I know, "What?!" Trust me it shocked me too, but in this past week I realized lots of things. And one of those is just how much I miss your really annoying yet flattering presence. Yea, sure you're condescending, rude, annoying, obnoxious and I could probably go on till tomorrow. But the thing is, I like that stuff about you, or at least some of it but what I've realized I always classified it as hate."

"I hate the way you always flirt with me, it's disgusting, rude and completely inappropriate, but you do it to get a reaction out of me and sometimes it actually nice, it doesn't make me feel alone."

"Of course there are lots of annoying things about you, for example, the hair thing. Y'know the one where you push your hair back with your hands unlike Potter who runs his fingers through his hair. I hate it. And then sometimes you do it to me, whenever I'm studying, and it always ends up distracting. So I end up reading the same sentence fifteen times, and getting absolutely no work done.."

"I hate the way you keep staring at me, almost all of the time. During class, while were studying, at dinner, in the common room, on the courtyard and so on, it makes me feel really insecure."

"I hate the way your uniform is always untidy; your tie is always lose, your shirt untucked, your robe open and how you completely violate the rules by wear those rings."

"I hate how your really good at your studies but never want to show it, I watch you do your work, you have potential to go high places but whenever your in class you put on this "To cool for school" act that irritates me too much."

"I hate the way you follow me around and throw your arm around my shoulders as if were close friends. I hate the way you tell others I secretly love you whenever I brush you off."

"I hate it when you joke and make me laugh, I hate it when you say I'm uptight."

"I hate it when your right and I'm wrong, I hate it when you lie and leave me alone."

"I hate seeing you with Marlene, I hate it more when people make comments of how great you two seem."

"I hate it when you put me on the spot then call me shy, I hate it more when you hurt my feelings and make me cry."

"I hate the way you're not around and you don't talk to me anymore. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even a little bit, not even at all."

You shakily raise your wand, and cast the counter curse. You swallow as he stands up with wide eyes and looks at you. "I swear if you laugh, I'll punch you in the face." You say threateningly, as your eyes roamed his for any emotions.

He lets out a small laugh, "Did you just attack me, insult me and confess your love for me all in five minutes?"

"Six minutes and forty-seven seconds."

"Merlin, Y/n..." He says with a soft yet tired smile, looking at you silently.

"Say something, dammit!" You shout, completely on edge.

"Well, I was actually coming to find you. Your owl gave me this." He says, pulling something out of his robe pocket with a small chuckle.

He handed you your very-angry-and-emotional-feelings-letter that you must have left on your desk.

Damn you, Whiskers!

"So, you read my letter, what about the bloody ceremonial speech i just gave."

"You hate 17 things about me." He says walking closer, "And most of these seventeen I do because I like you."

At this point, he is shadowing you with his height, there was barely any space in between.

"What?" You asked with a dazed look.

"I like you too," He clarifies , one of his hands reach up to brush your hair back and cup the side of your neck, stroking your throat with his thumb, making your face heat up.

"The reason I was so angry last week was because everyone kept saying what a great couple you and Hillson made. I got so angry and took it out on you."

He uses his other hand too push a few strands of your hair back behind your ear, playing with ends as he stared deeply into your eyes.

"Then I came back to apologize but I heard some of the girls say, you locked yourself up. I went back to my room to think and thought that maybe it was just best to give up. So I avoided you and ignored you in hopes of getting you out of my head. I only got back to Marlene to get over you. Then I got the letter and came to find you right away."

You stayed silent for a good thirty seconds trying to absorb all this information, though it was quite hard with him tracing his thumb over your throat and collar.

"So you don't like Marlene." You stated.

He laughed and nodded, "You can rest assured, I don't like Marlene, only you."

"Good." You whispered as you laced your hands behind his neck, bringing his head down and attaching your lips to his.

#reposting this cause why not? #sirius black #harry potter x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black angst #sirius x you #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fluff #the marauders #the marauders era #sirius x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x y/n #harry potter #sirius black drabble #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black blurb #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black one shot #marauders era #sirius black x female reader #marauders

[koqabear]

2KKKKK!!!! Congrats! I have a song equation!

Tinnitus BUT (demo ver) + enemy!Tae + angst + smut + slight fluff well since they do fuck- but they're still enemies on end.

♫: TXT, Tinnitus (Demo Ver.) // join the 2k event and request something!

"You always tried to tell your friends you don’t get along with Kang Taehyun. Did it work? Absolutely not. Now you’re stuck with him again, and there’s no telling what insanity will take over you tonight."

taehyun x fem! reader // wc: 2.6k (everyone cheer i’m getting the hang of it) // enemies to enemies, hinted fwb (the term friends used loosely), smut, MDNI.

warnings: tyun is an asshole sorry guys. slight hard dom!tyun, a bit of switch!mc, semi-public sex(?), unprotected sex, hair pulling, marking, biting, handjob, slight strength kink, hand restraining, degrading, creampie, slight cockwarming

notes: i’m so close to finally following my own rules abt the word count limit…! (i can’t keep getting away with this 😔)

Kang Taehyun was the bane of your existence— that much was obvious to anyone that spent any time around you.

He was arrogant, cocky, and overall an eye-sore; the first time you met, you actually gave him the benefit of the doubt, getting introduced through mutual friends and eventually forming a group that (unfortunately) included him. 

It was bad from the start. He was a complete smart-ass and had a knack for making casual, blunt comments that would immediately put you down; you’re not even sure what the fuck you did to him, but you do know that you never let a single one of those snide remarks slide— jabbing back just as hard, showing that you weren’t all bark and that your bite hurt more than one would expect— it got to the point where your friends knew that they should hold you back on a leash when you were around each other. 

Sometimes, you couldn’t even look at him; which is why you preferred to go to group events if you were explicitly told that Kang Taehyun would not be there, knowing that you would only ruin the night if you tagged along, more likely to start a fight than to try to actually enjoy yourself.

So to say that you were currently angry as you sat at a random table of a club, gritting your teeth and tapping your fingers against the table as you stared out at the dance floor, unable to look straight in fear of catching a glimpse of Kang Taehyun, was a severe understatement— you were fucking fuming. Your jaw aches from how hard you’re gritting your teeth together.

“Are you gonna dance, or are you so up-tight that you can’t even do that?”

“Leave me the fuck alone. I don’t wanna hear it.”

You’ve been dealing with his witty remarks all night. He’s just come back from the dance floor, hot and sweaty as the sight of a random girl getting all up on him practically made you gag; if you hadn’t been chosen as the designated driver tonight, you would’ve left long ago.

What’re friends for… you think bitterly, staring down at the water you only got to keep yourself occupied— you can feel Taehyun’s stare burning into the side of your face, and it only serves to make you more irritated as time goes on, hoping that he’ll stop being such a creep and look away.

“What is your problem?” you hiss, finally having enough after approximately one and a half songs of him doing this. Like expected, your eyes meet his, and a slow smile creeps its way onto his face as he leans his head back, resting against the booth as he looks at you with low-lidded, hazy eyes— he’s having fun getting under your skin, that much you can tell. You resist the urge to reach over and slap the stupid look off his face.

“Am I doing something wrong?” he asks, and you’re forced to lean toward him slightly from how quietly he talks, barely hearing him over the loud music that blasts all around you— you scoff at his words. 

“Don’t act stupid, you’ve been giving me problems all night— even now, don’t think I didn’t feel the way you were looking at me all weird.”

“I feel bad,” he confesses, ignoring the way you give him a scathing look as he continues, head lolling to the side lazily to watch the packed dance floor, “You looked so pathetic over here by yourself— someone would think your friends ditched you.”

“I’m the designated driver,” you point out through gritted teeth.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.” he glances back at you, and you jolt slightly at the way his gaze rakes over you slowly, “‘Cause this…? It's just sad.”

“And what exactly would fun be to you? Practically fucking some other girl on the dance floor to the rhythm of some shitty pop song?” Fuck, he’s done it again. He’s got you riled up and it’s only making you even angrier that he’s able to get you to this point— it doesn’t help that he’s laughing condescendingly at your sudden outburst, shaking his head and muttering something that you’re unable to hear from the obscene volume of the music. 

“Why are you here then?” he asks, tilting his head slightly and raising that stupid brow of his, a habit you’ve quickly come to hate, “To have intellectual conversations with other patrons?”

You don’t know what takes over you. Maybe you’ve finally been pushed to your limit, pent up and frustrated with the fact that your friends continue to brush off the fact that you and Taehyun simply do not get along— your fingers might just break your glass from how tightly you’re gripping onto it, standing up so suddenly that your chair slides away from you— but you do know that this was long overdue and well-deserved, throwing the rest of your water straight at him; a smile twitches at the corner of your lips as you take in the way his eyes screw shut and his brows knit together, left frozen as you take this moment to walk away, before you decide to say fuck it and really show him your bite. 

You walk mindlessly— the dance floor is too packed, and you feel as though your body is way too lit up and restless to try and join in— so you’re making your way to the bathrooms, the hall lonely and poorly lit as you open the women’s restroom, slipping inside and ready to lock the door so you can finally take a moment to compose yourself—

“Are you fucking insane?” you don’t think you’ve ever seen Taehyun like this, eyes alight and livid as he stops you from closing the door, slipping inside and slamming it behind him, taking in the way you only take a step back and yell at him to get out, “You need to start controlling that little temper of yours, cause you’ve really been getting on my nerves recently.”

“Oh really?” you laugh out, incredulous as you take a step toward him, pushing his chest roughly and forcing him to stumble back against the door, “Because you’ve been a total fucking angel, haven’t you? All pretty and proper, such a good boy, right?”

“Not my fault you’re such a wound-up bitch that doesn’t know how to take a joke and have fun,” he spits out, unfazed by the way you corner him and send him a nasty glare, refusing to back down even though you seem like you’ll get physical any second now.

“Take a joke? Have fun?” you seethe, poking his chest as you speak, “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a pathetic attempt at low blow disguised as a joke. So forgive me if I don’t find you funny.”

For once, Taehyun doesn’t know what to say— all he’s able to think of is the way you’ve practically pressed him against the door with your own body, the way his chest dully aches from the way you’ve been poking at him, and the way your own is heaving slightly from how angry you are, lips parted and eyes blown out with rage as they flicker up to take in his expression. 

A moment passes; then, your lips are on his, and his hands are on your waist, jerking you forward and forcing you to close any space left.

What possessed you to do this? You’d rather not think about it, choosing instead to get lost in the feeling of Taehyun and push past the fact that it’s him, the man who likes to degrade others for fun— actually, you think you will think about it, digging your nails into his shoulders and taking in the way he groans slightly against your mouth— and you quickly take this opportunity to take the kiss further, tongue eager to taste him as his hold on you tightens slightly.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your lips, feeling the way you refuse to part for longer than a second; he frowns, a hand going up to grab at your hair before he’s tugging at it— using it as leverage to pull you away from him, watching the way your head slowly tilts back before your eyes are fluttering open, looking at him with such anger he can’t hold back his breathy laugh. 

“I can’t believe you, you…” he mutters out, and you can already tell he’s about to say something that will morbidly sober your clouded mind. 

“Shut up and put those lips to use,” you sigh, fingers tangling in the nape of his hair before you’re tugging him back toward you— you’re holding back a smile at the way your hands smooth over his shirt, the material slightly damp under your skin and his hair pushed back from how much he ran his hands through it.

Besides the fact that your hand is currently undoing Taehyun’s zipper and his lips have begun to suck and bite at your neck, nothing has really changed; you can still hear him cursing you under his breath, feeling the way he lets out a shaky sigh the moment your hand wraps around his length— teasingly stroking him, making sure to lead him on but not give him enough.   

It’s all a game of cat and mouse, judging by the way he’s just as eager to try and pull sounds out of you. Though, when he sees his current efforts aren’t working, he decides to take a different approach.

One thing you’ll never be able to deny about Taehyun is that he’s strong; he’s proving himself now, pushing you back and making you sit on the sink counter with ease— his hands are rough as he pulls up your dress, sloppy kisses still being laid out across your neck as he huffs slightly at your wandering hands; pulling away before he’s stepping back, slipping his belt off with ease and restraining your wrists with them— quietly, you muse about him being oddly skilled at it, but you’re quickly quieted by the way he tugs at the belt again, tightening the item around your wrists and listening to the way you whine at the feeling.

“Such a smart mouth,” he mumbles, pulling his cock out as he takes a look at you, eyes drinking in your dazed eyes and fucked out appearance with delight, “Too bad you’re too dumb to know when to shut up.”

He’s grabbing your waist before he’s tugging you forward— you slide slightly across the counter, legs spread open as Taehyun stands in between, feeling the way one of them hooks around his waist before you’re tugging him in closer, eyes challenging as you raise a brow impatiently. 

“Don’t give me that look,” he scoffs, allowing his tip to run teasingly along your slit, feeling the way your walls flutter around him in response, “Or I’ll leave you here and make you wish you begged for me while you had the chance.”

“Oh really?” you tilt your head, tugging him closer and feeling the way his tip breaches your entrance for a moment— your breath hitches, and though Taehyun pretends to remain unaffected, you can feel his cock twitch with anticipation. “I’m sure you’re all talk.”

This, Taehyun decides, is about as far as allow you to continue to provoke him; he’s pushing into you with one swift motion, watching the way your voice breaks and your mouth falls open at the feeling of him inside you, thick and warm and full as you clench around him, your pussy already wet from the way he simply couldn’t take his hands off you earlier; you hope he doesn’t notice it, but the way his lips quirk to form his usual arrogant smile definitely isn’t a good thing. 

Taehyun doesn’t give you a chance to adjust. He doesn’t take it slow, doesn’t ask you what feels good or what you like— he simply gauges your reaction and begins to fuck you, grinning at the way you whimper and whine that it feels good, throwing your head back and giving him access to mark your neck and collarbones, making sure to leave enough that you’ll remember this for a long time— after a moment, you realize what he’s doing, cursing under your breath and pulling at your restraints as he simply responds by sinking his teeth into the delicate flesh.

“Gonna make sure you remember this. Make people ask who you got these from,” he whispers, laughing mockingly at the way you whisper out a fuck you, retaliating by sucking harshly right at your jaw, just under your ear, “Feels good? Like knowing it’s me making you feel like this?”

You can barely process what he’s telling you; not when he’s grinding into you so good, his breaths heavy against your skin as he leans back up to kiss you once more— it’s a mess of tongue and teeth as you both fight to remain on top, the only thing you can still have control over as you sink your teeth into his lip meanly; he only reciprocates by fucking you harder, a hand reaching down to rub at your clit as he smiles against your lips, trying to keep control with the way you clench around him.

You’ve realized reluctantly that Taehyun is not all talk— he’s found the spot that has your body tensing and your sounds becoming louder, undoubtedly beginning to filter out the bathroom as Taehyun slaps a hand over your mouth; sending you a harsh glare, his brows furrowing at the way you tighten around him and your mouth falls slack against his palm.

“Be fucking quiet,” he hisses, letting out a hitched breath at the way you only buck your hips in response, your leg locking around his waist and bringing him impossibly close as you look up at him, your eyes dazed and glossy as you feel the way his cock twitches inside you at the sight— his pace picks up, and Taehyun can feel his high approaching, swollen lip bitten at and stuck between his teeth as he takes in the way you squirm under him, tears swelling at your waterline as you whine and moan against the palm of your hand.

Taehyun is the first to unravel; filling you to the brim, the feeling of his warm cum and thick cock that continues to rut into you enough to have you following soon after, chest arching toward him from the way he leans down in a sudden attempt to muffle his sounds, cruel mouth biting at the junction between your neck and shoulder as you merely curse at him in your mind. 

He doesn’t pull out— if anything, he’s still fucking you slowly long after, a slow pace as he mumbles something about keeping you filled; you don’t even have the energy to roll your eyes, resting your head against his own that is still buried in the crook of your neck, attempting poorly to catch your breath. After a moment, the reality of everything seems to set in, and your wrists ache.

“If you tell anyone about this, you’re dead.”

He huffs in amusement. 

“This is embarrassing for me too, you know,” he mumbles, turning his head so you can feel the way he noses along the column of your neck, sighing slowly before he says, “But I wouldn’t be against it happening again. You know, just to put you in your place.”

The moment Taehyun takes this stupid belt off you, you’ll show him what it means to be put in place. 

But for now, you’ll settle with the feeling of his cock still inside you and his arms wrapped around your waist. (For another thirty seconds, it’s been long enough and you’re sure there are others waiting outside by now.)

#[2k event!] #[song equations] #[nsfw] #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun ff #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #taehyun x reader

[lains-reality]

hi!! i’m this anon, https://www.tumblr.com/lains-reality/723844364791676928/hi-i-hope-youre-having-a-wonderful-day-youre

about the difficult circumstances :)

i’ve followed your advice, and just rested. whenever i had moments/situations that brought up stress, i began to exercise this feeling of completion/bliss. ever since then, my health has been stabilizing. i took a break from tumblr/over-consuming, and just asked myself “what am i?” “who am i?”. i would let my thoughts go, attaching no meaning, nor identifying with them. i would observe them- in an almost manner of meditation. i started to feel lighter, as i no longer identified with the body. while doing such “exercises”, i found that i “tapped into the void” within minutes of doing so. it was so peaceful, and i had no urge to affirm- which even though my ego thinks my life is still far from perfect, i could care less.

i feel a sort of indifference to what used to seem problematic. i now understand, that there is no “convincing” myself of something, when i am already it. i’ve been “documenting” what works best for me- just because i might have brain damage lol, but what i’ve found is when i am in full acceptance of both the desirable and undesirable, it happens instantly- or within a day. just now, i noticed my collar bone feeling fleshy or the skin around it inflamed- which was one of the major symptoms i faced when i had cancer. my whole collar bone to face just puffed up like a pufferfish. in that moment, i knew who i TRULY was- I AM. God. i didn’t care if my collar bone wasn’t prominent or not- i just KNEW that it was normal, and prominent. literally not even a minute later, i touched my collar bone while scratching my neck- AND THE SWELLING WAS COMPLETELY GONE, IT WAS JUST BONE.

So, for me- what worked was knowing there was no conviction necessary, i am already everything, the good and the bad. thoughts and day dreams have no effect on me unless i identify with them- or personally give them power. no effort, and just complete ease and bliss. the past, and future do not exist- and only affect the present, when identified. indifference was the “biggest” aha moment for me.

I realized, each time I affirmed/thought of something- then let go, and gave it no more attention, it appeared (instantly). for problems, i just forgot of it. i disregarded it- and then bam. gone. since my last experience with the void, i knew since then that everything was perfect with my relationship regarding the void. i always wake up in it, everything perfect for me- i’m aware, blah blah blah. and that’s how it’s “manifested!”. i don’t even think of it any more. ever since that indifference feeling/knowing came- life has been soooo different.

during times of meditation, or of just observing my thoughts and letting them pass- is when i truly began to understand non-dualism. that’s when the knowing came for me. taking accountability and responsibility, and knowing everything is as temporary as night and day. i still have to “fix” my problems with school and university, but i know that is my ego talking. it is already done because i am it. i’m (my ego) is a bit worried if i will properly fix my problems, but after proving what lester, and all the info i’ve consumed (from blog to blog), i truly understand that there is no problem until i think i have a problem. my problems are as an easy fix as my situation with my collar bone.

i’ve also “fixed” my relationship with my mother, and grandparents. they now truly have realized the abuse that is in my household, and are 100% into supporting me, and protecting me. i was so surprised, because they would usually just ignore it and normalize it. especially my mother. all i’ve wanted was my mom- to actually be a mom. and now she is. even though there were moments where my ego wanted to cuss her out and identify as having a bad mother, i thought of it as nonsense, and now our entire dynamic has changed. i can’t really get into it without trauma dumping- but it’s been my wish since i was a child. she has truly changed and grown. even my therapist was shocked, and happy for me! i’ve been trying to “manifest” a change in her, for about 3 years- and after applying little to no effort, through what i’ve mentioned above- everything has changed.

(also “manifested” appearance changes, health to be completely perfect, my safety, perfect grades (literally all A+ or straight up 100%s loll, my pets health, and many other things. literally we all “manifest” our entire day just by identification)

i believe, or what has been true personally to me, about the reason behind the struggle of changing anything- even after seeing confirmation of one’s true power, is because it wasn’t a “big” enough accomplishment. they/me have put problems and “desires” on a pedestal- thinking it will be a varying degree to alter, than let’s say the weather. but it is all the same. everything holds the same balance. it is just the ego that convinces you that it does not. we literally shape our “today” and “tomorrow” from memory and identification. when i’ve thought/knew what my tomorrow would be- that is how it was.

i just wanted to say thank you to your kind response to my ask, last time. i know that it wasn’t easy- and i’m so sorry if i’ve caused anyone to feel any negative emotions. i also wanted to say thank you to your- and every other bloggers dedication to helping anons, and continuously posting the truth. you, and adasdisciple (idk how to do the @ thing, im so sorry!!!) as well as, 4dkelly something (i hope they may see this! i apologize for not remembering your user😭) have aided in ways not even professionals, or other bloggers have. my life has done a true 180- and i know it’s only going to get better from here on out. i appreciate everyone’s kindness to my first post, it truly warmed my heart to see so many people sympathizing with my ask. not many people have reacted with such genuine sweetness. thank you so much!! i’m fr feeling on top of the world 😋

wow! i'm so proud of you!!! speechless tbh!

i'll tag them here for you: @adadisciple, @4dkellysworld

#lainsmail

[l1vchuu]

resentment. part two

!! warnings: fainting, eating disorders, slow burn, angst, mainly focused on f!reader.

You closed your eyes as you waited, waiting for it to pass. The soft tone of her voice rang in your ears, scraping them like sandpaper to wood. Amelia wasn’t alone, nor was she with Ghost, she was talking to somebody else. You could barely pick up the voice of the other person, but for sure it was a deep, male voice. 

Alejandro, you thought to yourself. Yeah, everybody knows how flirty he can get, no wonder why he would stick to her like a mosquito. 

“So, you said you were from where? You have a slight accent. Wait- let me guess- Texas?”

The girl laughed at his guess, shaking her head.

“Nope, try again!”

“Okay, okay… Missouri?”

Amelia laughed even harder. 

“Kansas.” 

She finally admitted, a big smile planted on her delicate, soft face. Alejandro brought a hand up his face, shaking his head in disappointment. 

So, if Ghost isn’t with her, where is he then?

Your computer monitor turned on and lit up your face, making you squint your eyes, adjusting to the sudden appearance of light. You returned your attention to your monitor, completely ignoring the back-to-back flirt in the hallway. You opened up the browser, getting ready to start the working day. 

It was 12 pm, the sun was shining and the sky was oh so clear, with a few soft transparent clouds placed randomly among it. The gentle soft sun rays entered your office, brightening the room. You had already opened a window or two, letting the breeze in. Piles of papers and files were stacked on your desk, most of them marked and signed with highlighters and red pens. Since you were still taking a break from the previous mission, all you have to do now is paperwork, which was easy for you. The last time Captain Price called you, he said that you weren’t going on any missions anytime soon, since a teammate got severely injured on the way back to base, leading him to his passing. That was the reason for Amelia's appearance- to fill a hole in the team until someone else arrives. Someone better.

You yawned, taking a slight break from working- you had the whole day to get done with it, so why not take a walk around the base?

You stood up from your chair, stretching your arms and legs, hence you’ve been working since 6 am. You took off your blue light glasses as you headed out the door, closing it behind you. You looked around- it was another work day for everyone. Turning your heel, you began walking towards the shooting range. On your way, you passed through Ghost and Kyle’s office, taking a slight peek, you finally saw Simon. Your eyes lit up but did they lit up with rage or happiness? He was sitting at his desk, checking papers. Simon was wearing his balaclava only, not even bothering to put on eye grease like he usually does. As his eyes began to look your way, you immediately picked up the pace, passing through every office until you found the range. 

Your heartbeat has fastened again,

Why did I react like that? 

You couldn’t understand, why did you walk away, when you could’ve gotten inside or at least said hi? 

But, no, he didn’t deserve that. He couldn’t even bother asking where had you been last night, why was your body covered up in bandages? But you knew you couldn’t tell him, it’s not like he doesn’t know your past- he knows everything about you. And it pained you even more, seeing your puffy eyes, seeing your body, it ached for him. You ached for him. Did he even notice? Did he notice your existence at all? Did Amelia completely delete every memory of you? Was he in love with her? 

Why did you care if he was- He was your best friend, right? Right.

Do best friends cry every time they feel like the other doesn’t pay attention to them? Do best friends sob every night, wanting to feel the other's touch and affection? Do best friends harm themselves when they feel like they’re not enough for the other? Do best friends lose themselves for the other? 

You rested your back against the wall, trying to keep your balance. As everyone leaves their offices to eat lunch, you hear footsteps coming toward you. You turned your head in their direction- Soap, with a gentle smile, approached you.

“Well hello there!”

He stands beside you as you nodded at him, forcing a quick smile.

“Wanna eat? I’m starving!” 

Soap says as he puts an arm around you, pulling you with him. As he continued the way down the cafeteria he was blabbing all about his day, getting mad as he spoke. But you barely paid any attention to him, it’s like your ears are filled with white noise.

When you approached the table, you sat across from Johnny.

“Hey, why didn’t you get any food?” 

“I’m not hungry, I ate before this.”

You lied. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch. The only thing in your stomach was the coffee from this morning.  And- if you were to eat anything, the first thing you would be able to do is to throw it all up so you weren’t hungry at all.

Soap nodded, eating his lunch as you two sat in silence. He looked at you, wondering about something. He knew something had changed in you, he just couldn’t place a finger on what. He notices your swollen eyes:

“Have you gotten any sleep? You look like a corpse.”

“Very funny.”

“No, like, not joking. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Johnny. It’s just stress, you know the drill.”

“Just making sure, you know.”

“Don’t worry about me, where is Gas?”

“Kyle is on cleaning duty- he accidentally broke the printer in Price's office.”

He held onto his laugh. Your eyes widened.

“No way! How did he manage to fuck up like that?”

“Don’t know, it’s a talent at this point!”

You laughed, calming down a little bit. Soap was usually the person who messed stuff up and got punished later in the process. You looked around, your eyes scanning the cafeteria. You know who you are looking for. He wasn’t there. Johnny caught your gaze, again, something was off. 

“So uhh, I haven’t seen you talk to Ghost in a while, did something happen?”

You almost choked on your spit as you looked at him, your pupils dilating. 

Shit.

“Nah, just work.”

Johnny knew, of course, since him and Ghost are close, too. He decided not to integrate any further so he just nodded. Simon told him about you, and his situationship with Amelia. 

Everybody knew how close you and Simon are, since you’ve always been together, weather it was in training or just hanging out. On the other hand, everyone thought that you were dating at some point, which usually made you laugh. 

Johnny thought for a minute, wondering if he wanted to tell you or not. He knew about your feelings, especially with the new recruit coming along, he understood you. But he thought it would be better to tell you sooner or later. 

“Amelia and Ghost are hooking up.”

And that was the worst way he could’ve told you, but he did. You looked at him, unfazed. 

“I know.”

No, I didn’t, but now things were clearer. 

A few hours have passed since lunch and you tried so hard to accept the news, but your body had other plans. Your stomach twisted at every thought about it, making you feel sick. You were sick.

…

It has been a month, and you couldn’t feel worse. 

One day you were at your desk, filling papers until you felt your head almost burst open from pain. You winced, holding your head in your hands, you couldn’t feel a thing, only immense pain. Your head was throbbing and throbbing, until your body felt lighter- then you fainted. 

Usually, nobody comes to your desk at this late hour, so absolutely no one noticed. As your unconscious body was laying on your desk, your office phone rang- it was Price. The ringing continued for a while, the vibrations causing your desk to shake a bit. But you were laying there, you weren't there.

After he called you about three times, he came to your office. At first, he thought you were sleeping and called your name even louder- but when you didn’t answer, he went closer to check on you, and then he saw. The realization hit him.

As he checked your pulse, he sighed out of relief. Without panicking, he called a medic to get you checked.

You had a dream again.

You were laying in a field and the smell of grass and flowers filled your lungs. The nice spring wind was dancing in the air, you have never felt so peaceful. The birds sang beautifully and you were staring at the clear sky. The weather wasn't cold, yet not too warm. In the distance you could see a path, leading to a nearby lake.

Maybe I should go there.

You stood up, the wind welcoming you as it flew through your hair. You walked through the field, the beautiful sight making you feel full. You couldn't have been happier.

When you got to the lake, you sat on the porch. The coldness of the wood hitting your legs, you looked around. This place felt similar to you, you've been there before. You rested on the porch for a while, letting your legs soak in the lake water as you enjoyed the view- the trees resting on top of the lake, birds flying in and out of them as if they were playing tag.

All of these creatures- yet you still felt so alone.

So alone, you wanted to tear your body to pieces, hoping that would make you feel needed- maybe even cared for. But you weren't.

The only person who understood every particle of your brain is gone now. He wasn't there. It's like you never existed to him. All of these empty glances and smiles. Why?

Why is he not there when you need it the most? Oh, wait. He caused it. He made you do this. Or did he? What if it's all you? What if it is all your fault?

It is your fault.

A bird came up to you, sweet and little. You lowered your head to look at it, smiling. It looked up at you with its' cute and small eyes. And then it spoke to you.

Who are you?

You blinked, your brain registering the information.

I'm talking to you! Who are you?

You tilted your head, not knowing how to answer.

I'm a human.

I can see that, but it's not what I'm asking. Who are you?

You stopped for a bit, confused. You didn't quite understand what the bird was asking you.

You don't look quite good, what happened to you?

It was true, you didn't look good. Your eyes were swollen and a bit red- a purple tint around them, forming black circles.

Nothing happened. I'm okay.

You're lying, you don't look okay.

I'm just a little tired. You know, from work and all.

Only tired? You look like you're sick.

Yeah, I haven't eaten in a while.

Why don't you eat?

It's complicated. You're a bird, you won't understand it.

Maybe I'm a bird, but I can see when someone doesn't feel good. What is your work like?

It's not for everyone. It's harsh and dangerous.

Do you think you can handle that?

I've worked there for a lot of time, and I could handle it.

I'm supposed to be strong, right? You thought to yourself.

But you look weak, are you sure you're made for it?

It's just temporary, I'll get better.

Are you sure? When I feel tired from carrying sticks, I take a break. Why don't you take a break?

Why don't you take a break?

You thought about that for a bit, you could take a break. A long brake. A vacation even. Why don't you just quit the job? I mean, you could. You can just leave and return to your hometown, and start living a new life, apart from all the torture and pain.

That sounds good, but all of my friends are there.

If all of your friends are there, why do you still feel this way? My friends help me when I'm sad- and I help them.

But I don't have anyone back home.

That's not true- you have yourself. One person can change a lot of things in your life, why can't that person be you? You could always make new friends.

But I don't feel great when I'm alone.

Learning to like solitude takes time, but you'll get there eventually.

A whistle could be heard from the distance, making the bird jump.

Oh, that was for me- I have to go! See you around!

The bird flew into the trees, leaving you alone again. That encounter left you speechless for a while.

Maybe the bird was right. You can always leave.

-

When you woke up, you weren’t in the place where you fell asleep in. You looked around, trying to understand the situation. When the nurse came in, she told you everything. You had fainted out of exhaustion.

When you felt better enough to walk, you asked if you could get checked out. She nodded, writing stuff on her pad as she checks you out. She also told you to visit Price’s office. You thanked her and went straight to his door. As you knocked, he told you to come in. When you came in, he smiled at you:

“Feeling better?”

You nodded. He motions you to sit on the chair, and you did that.

You sat in silence for a bit.

"Look, you might not know it- but the boys are worried about you. You stay in your office all day-"

"I want to take a break."

You interrupt, looking at him with your swollen eyes. He nods.

"A break? Sure, you can take a break."

"When can I leave?"

"How long will you be leaving for? Two weeks? One week?"

"A month."

"A month? Are you sure about that- I mean- I could give you that but we'll have to replace you."

"No, I'm sure."

"Okay then, I'll file the papers later and you can leave tomorrow morning. Is that okay for you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, do you want me to say anything to the rest of the team?"

"No, sir."

He nods again.

"You can go and get your things ready, Sergant. Have a nice break and..."

He pauses for a bit.

"Stay safe."

You nodded as you stood up and headed to the door. You exited and went back to your room. It was empty, no wonder.

Fortunately, Ghost was on a night shift, which meant that you wouldn't have to explain yourself. It's not like he would care, right?

You packed your things and laid on your bed, looking up at the ceiling. You'll be leaving in an hour.

When the time came, you left the base. Gladly nobody noticed your leave.

But Ghost came home to an empty room. All of the pictures on the walls, your clothes, everything was gone, including you.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.☆.｡.:

Heyy! I apologize for the late post, I've been busy with school and all that, but here I am. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. If you want part three, make sure to like or reblog- I'm open to suggestions!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty x reader #cod #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty fanfic #ghost fanfiction #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley fanfic #cod mw2 fic #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #cod angst

[literaryavenger]

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Summary: The Avengers meet the Guardians of the Galaxy for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but I was just thinking how it might go if the Avengers met the Guardians of the Galaxy. It started with the reader cooing at Groot and Bucky being jealous and this is what came out, lol, hope you like it! Needless to say, this doesn't follow the MCU timeline, like basically all of my other stories. Don't ask me how Thor knows the Guardians, the bitch just do. I also just needed Bucky fluff, like always, and I'm really happy how it turned out! Like always I appreciate asks and messages and am always up for it if you have any ideas.

Masterlist

By this point you’re very aware that there’s life on other planets, that the universe is a place much bigger than you ever imagined. Working with the Avengers allows you to see so many things that you never thought could possibly even exist.

Super soldiers, superheroes, enhanced individuals, even Thor himself is a demi-god from literally a different planet.

This particular demi-god is the reason why today you and the rest of the team find yourselves in the common room of the Avengers Compound, a spaceship casually parked in your yard.

They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy: Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Nebula, Drax and Mantis, literal aliens currently bickering amongst themselves because they came to earth to visit Thor the wrong day, resulting in Thor not being home for their arrival.

"Is that a plushie?" you ask, a little confused, pointing at a little teddy bear-like thing on Quill’s shoulder and effectively ending their search for who is at fault for their mistake.

He looks even more confused than you and asks "What the hell is a plushie? This is Groot, he’s a Flora Colossi."

You decide, for my own peace of mind, to ignore the latin and instead focus on the cute little thing on his shoulder who is now moving and looking at you weirdly.

"I am Groot." he says in the cutest voice ever.

"Oh my god, you're just adorable!" You say, reaching your finger out for him to hold, freaking out at his cuteness.

"I remember when you used to talk to me like that…" you hear Bucky mumble behind you, which makes you laugh and, with your attention still completely on Groot, you tell him "God, you really are a needy bitch, Barnes." at which everybody laughs.

"Yeah? And you’re just a bi-"

"Hey!" you basically yell, interrupting him and startling Groot.

"I’m kidding!" he quickly says, putting up his hands in defeat. With one last glare at Bucky, your attention turns back to Groot.

"I am Groot!" he says again.

"I know honey, you said that." you tell him.

"I am Groot." he says, yet again, at which Sam answers "Yeah, you’re Groot, got it."

Groot says "I am Groot." again and, before Sam can say something that you're sure is gonna be very rude, you turn to the Guardians and ask "Why does he keep saying that?"

Rocket is the one to answer "Well, he don't know talking good like me and you. So his vocabulistics is limited to I and am and Groot. Exclusively in that order."

His answer leaves you all a little dumbfounded but again, for your own sanity, you all seem to decide to let it go.

Instead Bruce asks "So how do you understand him?"

"We speak Groot." Nebula says like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How can you speak ‘Groot’ if he says literally the same three words, in the exact same order, in the same way every time?" Tony asks, starting to get a little frustrated, probably because the genius can’t do something that seems to come really easy to a bunch of space idiots.

"We manage." Quill simply says.

At this point Groot reaches his little hands towards you, signaling that he wants to be picked up, so, before Tony can make any sarcastic comment, you look at Quill and ask, excitement clear on your face "Can I?" while pointing at an awaiting Groot.

"Sure." He says, and you very carefully pick him up and put him on your shoulder.

"Be careful not to move too fast, he’ll hold onto your hair for dear life." Gamora warns you.

"Noted." you say giggling a little when Groot sticks his tongue out to Gamora, then she does the same to him, making everyone else laugh too.

"Buck, look how cute he is." you coo at Groot who's playing with your finger.

"’s not that cute…" he says quietly but you hear him, and apparently so does Groot because he says "I am Groot." in a very annoyed tone that prompts a chorus of whoas and protests from the guardians.

"The acorns on you, kid!" Quill says, and everybody just knows he said some really bad words to Bucky.

"Who even taught you that word?!" Rocket sounds like an exasperated parent.

"I am Groot."

"What do you mean, Drax taught you?! WHY WOULD YOU TEACH HIM THAT?" 

"The small tree asked." Drax says unbothered.

"Just because he asks doesn't mean you have to teach him dirty words!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's really common sense, Drax." Gamora interjects, calmer than Rocket.

"I am Groot."

"See, even Groot knows you don’t have common sense, Drax, that’s why he asked you." Quill says.

"I am Groot."

"I am not stupid, tree!" Drax glares at Groot.

"See, he’s not cute. He’s a disrespectful little shit!" Bucky says, also glaring at poor Groot.

"I am Groot." the guardians snicker, leaving the rest of you confused.

"What? What did he say?" you're too curious not to ask as Groot is now glaring back at Bucky.

"He said he doesn’t understand how a sweet person like you is with someone like him." Nebula translates, earning some gasps and snickers from everyone else too.

You look at Bucky trying hard not to laugh and he looks like he's about 5 seconds away from murdering Groot.

He takes a step towards you but Groot, still on your shoulder, makes the cutest little growl and starts flinging one of his arms around in Bucky’s direction, the other one holding to your hair so as to not fall.

"Oh, he’s ready to fight a bitch." you say unable to hold in your laughter any longer and the others follow you.

"What?" you turn around and Drax is giving you a confused look.

"What?" you say, calming down from your laughter.

"I do not understand. He does not resemble a female dog." he looks at Bucky and then back at you.

"He- I don- What?" you’re as confused as you’ve ever been, everybody else’s faces mirroring your own.

"His people are completely literal, he doesn’t understand metaphors." Rocket explains.

"Oh… fun." Tony says, still a little confused.

"Is it though?" you hear Gamora mumble, before Mantis starts giggling.

"It is!" she says with the joy of a kid on christmas morning.

"It’s really not." Nebula says casually, and from that the Guardians start bickering amongst each other.

You look at Groot who’s still on the warpath with Bucky and then at Rocket, the only one not saying anything.

He meets your eyes and simply says. "This is what I gotta live with."

"Oh, poor little racoon." you coo at him while laughing and that seems to stop the bickering.

"Hey, I am no racoon!" Rocket tells you defensively.

"I am Groot." Rocket groans and Quill snickers.

"Groot’s right, he’s a trash panda." he says knowing the people of earth will know why that’s funny.

Some of the Avengers laugh, but you gasp trying to hide your amusement for Rocket’s sake.

"You know, you might be right, Buck. He’s not that cute and innocent after all." you turn to your boyfriend, who gives you a slight pout.

"I’m cuter than him, right"- he asks you with those puppy eyes he knows make you melt.

"Aww, of course you are, baby." you give him a kiss on the cheek, almost forgetting about Groot on your shoulder until he talks again.

"I am Groot." the Guardians “aww” and coo at him but before you can ask, Mantis explains. "He says he understands now why you’re together."

"He says he can see how much you two love each other." Gamora finishes.

You smile at Groot and he smiles back before making the cutest yawn, looking at Bucky and doing grabby hands at him.

Bucky looks at you and you take his hand and guide it towards where Groot is, he’s uncertain but when Groot climbs on his hand Bucky looks almost like a little kid seeing a butterfly up close for the first time.

He brings Groot against his chest and the little tree gets comfortable and falls asleep almost immediately, while everyone else in the room coos at the two.

"This might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen." you whisper, not wanting to wake up Groot, and Bucky looks up at you and flashes a smile bright enough to light up the whole of New York.

"I guess he is kind of cute." he says looking back down at Groot’s sleeping form, leaving everyone else snickering as quietly as they can, while he imagines how it would be to be like this one day with a baby that’s his and yours, and you can’t help but think the same thing.

Part 2

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #guardians of the galaxy x reader #marvel fanfiction #bruce banner #guardians of the galaxy #drax the destroyer #peter quill #gamora #rocket raccoon #baby groot #mantis #nebula

[aita-blorbos]

Am I the "asshole" for wanting to have a body again?

Context: I was once a powerful demon, but an attempt was made to seal that demon's soul inside a cursed object. The sealing didn't completely succeed, and the demon's soul was torn to pieces, with only the part currently known as "me" ending up inside. I don't remember much about this part of my life, but as far as I can recall, I almost certainly didn't do anything to deserve it.

I (immortal, pick one) have been trapped in this object as an incorporeal spirit for so long I've lost track of time. My prison has changed hands many times, but was most recently acquired by an extremely ambitious student at a nearby magic school (13M, we'll refer to him as "K"). K all but demanded I lend my power to him and teach him some of what I knew. As I quite literally have nothing better to do, I agreed, and the arrangement has been mostly tolerable.

Except a short time after we began working together, a new student "S" (also 13M) showed up at K's school. And what did he have with him but the other part of my soul?! I don't know how he came to have it, if he's some sort of reincarnation of my original self or a distant descendant, but all that mattered was that if I could get to him, I could have a body again. It was the best opportunity I'd ever had to get my life back. So I got K to perform a ritual that switched our places and put me in his body (and before I'm called the "asshole" for that, it was supposed to be a TEMPORARY arrangement, and besides, he's the one who wants to mess with dark magic. I taught him a very valuable lesson about dealing with demons! Not that he actually learned anything from it…)

S came straight to me, but someone must've realized what was going on and put a protection charm on him. Then he beat me in a duel, and after that he just…walked away. Like he didn't have a care in the world! He hadn't come to deal with me, or even to save his classmate, no, he just wanted to steal one of my ritual components because some stranger had asked him to, otherwise I don't know if he'd have bothered showing up. I don't think he even listened to a word I said.

Needless to say, that plan didn't work out. I'm still working with K, but now both his teacher and the most powerful warlock on this side of the planet are watching me like I'm some sort of criminal. And what's worse, no one involved took me seriously, and aren't willing to so much as mention the incident. It's like it didn't even matter! I'm pretty sure even S has forgotten the whole thing, he's got a memory like a sieve for anything that isn't the scientific name for a stag beetle.

It hasn't been all that long, but it feels as if it's been decades since I've gotten to do anything. Is it so wrong for me to try and escape this pitiful existence I've been unjustly forced into? Am I going to spend the rest of eternity in here being the butt of some kind of massive cosmic joke? I really don't think I deserve to be either treated like a reprobate or outright ignored.

EDIT: THIS IS FAKE NONE OF THIS HAPPENED my device must have been stolen moderators please delete!!

EDIT 2: To everyone saying K should get rid of the demon, if any of these events had hypothetically actually happened (WHICH THEY DIDN'T), I would definitely have the situation COMPLETELY under control by now!!

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

[tokyo-tower-symbolism]

What does Karen mean when she says "I am Reborn"?

Revue Starlight takes place in a time loop. 

For over 60 years, eight students from Seisho’s acting class continue to audition to be the lead in the Starlight Gatherer, each hoping to use the brilliance awarded to the top star to fulfill their wish to perform on the Stage of Fate. And in each of those loops, very little changes. The same leads are chosen, the same wish is made, and Aijou Karen is at the bottom of the rankings every time. 

Nothing changes until one loop where Kagura Hikari transfers to their school from London and replaces Karen as one of the eight participants in the audition, and suddenly everything is changing.

Hikari’s return lights a spark in Karen. The childhood promise they made to perform on stage together is the closest it’s ever been to happening, and Karen refuses to waste this chance.

In the first episode, we don’t get a very flattering picture of Karen. Her roommate struggles to wake her up to get to morning practice, Karen is stiff as a board while stretching, she’s not taken seriously by her classmates at all, and she can’t even picture herself ever beating Maya or Claudine for the lead roles in the play. Don’t get me wrong, her classmates all like her and honestly she’s really funny to watch, but everyone is here because they want to be the star, not to fool around.

It comes to a head when the giraffe who runs the underground auditions points it out. She’s not desperate like the other girls so she has no chance of winning. He says that there is no place for someone like Karen to have a chance at that dream stage. 

But Karen doesn’t care. She ignores the giraffe entirely and jumps on stage to join Hikari. And as she falls, she undergoes a transformation, going from her school uniform to the revue outfit.

There’s a lot to be said about the transformation sequence, like how quick and mechanical and impersonal everything is. Machines sew the costumes and get everything ready and makeup is briefly applied. It’s all the work that would usually be given to the school’s Class B, which works on all the backstage stuff, like the props and the sets and the costumes. They’re out of focus a lot of the time and we only really focus on two characters from Class B, but they still exist! They’re friends with the main class A actors and in the movie it’s because of a speech the director of the play gives that the main characters decide to stand up on stage again. But they don’t matter to the audition. It only cares about the top star.

There’s also how the uniforms are mass manufactured and the very important star buttons, which signify victory or defeat so basically life or death, are unceremoniously tossed in a box, showing how disposable the rest of the stage girls are in creating the top star. Honestly the whole thing is kind of sinister in hindsight once you understand the true nature of the auditions.

But the part that’s all Karen is when she jumps and in the background it says: I am reborn.

Because Karen completely reinvents herself. She goes from getting sweeped in a low dip by Junna in their daily life to doing the same to her in the revue. In the following episodes, she starts waking up early, taking practice seriously, she changes her classmates' worldviews after defeating them, and she even beats Claudine and Maya to earn a lead role in the Starlight Gatherer. Nana specifically says that all the changes in this loop stemmed from Karen, despite Hikari’s appearance being the first major difference.

And in the climactic final revue of the show, Karen is only able to reach Hikari by stating that she will constantly be reborn if it means she can stand on stage with her. That Karen doesn’t mind getting her brilliance stolen or being trapped in the stage of fate or whatever terrible fate might befall her if she sticks with Hikari since each time she will get back on stage, born anew.

But what exactly does it mean to be reborn as a stage girl?

Well first, in order to be reborn you need to die, so let’s start there. And in the show, we see two dead stage girls.

The first is Hikari after she lost the audition in London and had her brilliance stolen. As a result, she loses all interest in the stage and can hardly remember why she bothered trying so hard to become the lead in her school’s play. But what snaps her out of this is remembering her promise to stand on stage with Karen, and how disgusted she is in herself that she almost forgot it. In a desperate attempt to reclaim what she lost, she goes to participate in the Tokyo audition since the winner will steal the brilliance of all the participants to make the stage of fate and become the untouchable top star. Unfortunately the one flaw in her plan is that Karen is also in the audition, so even if Hikari did win, she would also be stealing Karen’s brilliance, making it so their promise could never be kept regardless.

Hikari continues to be dead as a stage girl despite being a participant in the Tokyo Auditions. Although her technical skills are perfect, Maya in the first episode mentions that her heart’s not in it, which we later find out is because Hikari had lost her brilliance. This can be seen in her revue outfit in London compared to now. Over there, she had a sword and a red cape just like everyone else. But now her blade is shortened to a dagger’s length and her cloak is blue, the color of her promise which is her true desire here instead of the red of the top star that everyone else desires.

But Hikari is eventually reborn. By the time of her revue with Nana, Hikari has changed. She’s no longer pushing everyone away and has actually started to make friends with everyone and told Karen how dear their promise is to her as well. Even though Hikari only came here as a step on her path to become a top star and one day fulfill her promise with Karen, she’s instead inspired by Karen that the two of them could shine as top stars together here. Her entire worldview is completely changed, and in this Revue against someone who is in the audition not for a love of acting, but to instead use it as a stepping stone for her own ambitions, just like Hikari, her brilliance is reborn. Hikari’s weapon transforms, not back into the sword from before, but into a new dagger with a string that Hikari can use to maneuver herself and a star shaped hilt, similar to her hairpin, a symbol of her promise with Karen.

She’s not the same as she was before she died as a stage girl, but she’s reborn as someone new with a brand new outlook on life.

And the next dead stage girl we see in the show is Karen herself.

After Hikari wins the audition, she refuses to use the brilliance of the other participants to create the stage of fate, and instead offers to create it herself. This doesn’t really work and Hikari is trapped there for months in a Sisyphean effort where she attempts to build the Starlight Tower but it is destroyed over and over again because it’s impossible to put on a play alone.

But outside the Stage of Fate, no one knows what happened to her. Life goes on, but Karen is constantly searching for Hikari but has no luck. In the meantime Karen has lost the motivation she had back when Hikari transferred in. Even though she can say her lines perfectly during practice, there is something missing that everyone can tell. Her heart’s just not in it anymore. Karen even wonders why she’s been trying so hard all this time. It’s the spitting image of Hikari in London after she lost her brilliance. Even though no one stole it from her this time, without Hikari out there, Karen has no motivation to stand on stage.

But with no clues left to find where Hikari has gone, Karen instead has to understand Hikari. She reads Hikari’s Starlight Gatherer book in the original English like Hikari did. It’s hard and she needs a dictionary to translate it, but she puts in the effort to understand Hikari and why she left.

And on her way to confront Hikari once more with this new understanding, she is guided by her classmates. In the background the song “Knowledge of a Stage Girl” is played as each of them tells Karen what being on stage means to them.

Karen is reborn and ready to face Hikari after being dead as a stage girl, and it’s only because her worldview changed after understanding everyone else. Karen at the end of episode 10 couldn’t have convinced Hikari, she was absolutely blindsided then and had no idea what Hikari was doing. But now Karen was ready after having understood a variety of perspectives.

Because that’s what being reborn is, to change yourself. You will never be anyone other than yourself. But every time you understand someone, learn from someone, or get inspired by someone, you are reborn. You suddenly see a path someone else took that you hadn’t thought of before. You’re suddenly given a whole new way of life to live. You can be reborn as someone brand new. And even if you choose to stay exactly the same, you’ve still grown since you now know they exist.

When the stage is reborn in the final revue of the show, it’s only because Karen offered a new ending: that after falling, Flora ascended up the tower once more to meet the trapped Claire. Karen couldn’t change the past, she can’t make it so Flora and Claire never ascended the tower in the first place, she can’t make it so the two of them never took part in these auditions, but she can change what's gonna happen next.

This is also seen in the movie. Throughout the movie, Karen is wandering along a train track and reminiscing on how she became a stage girl. We see Hikari and Karen’s first meeting and the first play they saw with each other. We see how Karen had been the lead in her middle school plays and took dancing and singing lessons ever since elementary school. We see how she had to give up video games and hanging out with her friends so she could get into one of the best acting schools in the world. We see how scared she was that Hikari might have forgotten their promise. 

And once Karen arrived at the end of the tracks, she decides to give up on the stage, having realized that she had fulfilled her dream to shine as the lead with Hikari and now there is nothing left for her future on the stage. So Karen dies as a stage girl, for real this time. It’s still a metaphor but it’s real, her body goes limp in front of Hikari and there is tomato juice everywhere.

It’s real bad. Hikari starts crying and cradling Karen in her arms, which is a big departure from how stoic she usually is. But Hikari is finally truthful about why she left, having been symbolically reborn herself, and she tells Karen her true feelings, that she wants Karen to come back to the stage where she is waiting.

Karen falls again, and just like the first time she transformed, it even has the sign behind her that says I am reborn.

Her body rides down the tracks on a train, reliving the memories and burning up everything she already gave up before. But this time when she returns to the end, she is alive and reborn. The circumstances are all the same as before, she still fulfilled her dream and has nothing left. As she later says, she’s the emptiest she’s ever been. But she’s here now, all because Hikari said she was waiting for her, and that’s enough of a reason to stand on stage.

This is just like the first episode, where the only difference from all the other loops was that Hikari was there, and that’s all Karen needed to change and be reborn.

Because Karen can’t redo her whole life. Even within the time loop everything happened more or less the same each time. Karen already gave everything she had into acting and fulfilling her promise. Like the song playing in the background says, “I would be reborn as myself.” 

It’s not like she ever acted differently to try and become the top star, she doesn’t imitate Maya or Claudine or any other top star. She is unabashedly herself, always kind and energetic. The only difference is that she’s just more focused and motivated and understanding with each rebirth because the only thing she can change is what she is going to do right now, and that’s what it means to be reborn. 

Karen is transformed over the course of the revue, her sword snaps and her future is changed. She gains a better understanding of herself and why she stands on stage. And instead of desiring to stand beside Hikari on stage again, or longing for the stage that had already passed, she finds a new ambition, and chooses to stand against her as rivals who won’t lose to each other. And as established in a previous revue (that Karen wasn’t there for), the revue of rivals never ends, no matter how far apart their stages are. So instead of giving up on the stage like she said prior, we see the reborn Karen auditioning for a brand new role during the credits.

Revue Starlight is all about these little transformations. As the stage girls take part in each of the revues, they learn a little bit more about each other, which helps them learn more about themselves. They grow and change because they clash with each other, and become stronger for it. The giraffe changes from the proctor to becoming a bunch of fruits and vegetables, symbolically the fuel they need to ascend to the next stage instead of using each other’s brilliance. The revues themselves change from being part of an audition to being entirely for the girl’s satisfaction, with previous win conditions such as cutting the brooch or claiming position zero becoming worthless as they move on to bigger things.

And all of this was a choice. The first choice was that Hikari didn’t want to give up on her dream with Karen, so she got back on stage. The next choice was that Karen wanted to stand on stage with Hikari, even if she wasn’t part of the auditions. In the movie, everyone else gets the chance to see themselves as a dead stage girl. At first they are in shock, but then they hear a speech from the director about how they are all scared together. And after that, each of them chooses to get back on stage despite the risk, because they aren’t facing it alone.

In the final revue of the show, Karen said that every time she gets on stage, she is reborn. And we saw that! Before every revue, Karen had her “I am Reborn” transformation sequence. And it’s not just her, in the recap movie, the other stage girls didn’t get the full transformation sequence, but they did get an “I am Reborn” card before their revues. Because everytime a stage girl chooses to stand on stage, someone else is there. Someone else is going to be facing them in the revue. Someone else will be acting across from them, or will be supporting them off the stage. And even when they are apart, they are going to be thinking of each other.

Even from the very beginning, the reason that any of them chose to stand on stage was because of someone else. Maybe they were inspired like Karen, Hikari, or Junna. Maybe it was expected of them like Maya, Kaoruko, or Mahiru. Or maybe it was because someone else was already there, like with Futaba, Claudine, or Nana. And sometimes it’s a mix because people are complex and have so many different reasons for doing anything they do. 

But still, they chose to do it, to change and to take a risk and put it all out there and accept whatever comes with it.

And that is what it means to be reborn.

#karen aijou #hikari kagura #revue starlight #analyzing starlight

[ratcandy]

also am I interpreting Shamura as a follower correctly Have they almost completely lost their memories? With only brief glimpses coming through here and there?

because that is Devastating, right. Like, all around. Surely someone else has realized this right.

how is Kallamar going to reconcile for asking Shamura be killed first. how is Nari going to have any conversation about anything at all

Does Shamura even remember who any of them are?? I mean they remember Narinder to some extent (referring to him when Aym and Baal are revived) but what of the youngest like Leshy? Who they had the least time to know when they were still a Bishop?

and again with Nari . He definitely seemed to respect Shamura the most (as in his opinions on the rest of his siblings are not all that high), even going silent when brought silk from their domain rather than making any sort of snarky comment . Asking if they wept when they were slaughtered and now they're here. But they don't remember anything. Or perhaps only remember small things for brief moments

and it was THEM who influenced Nari, it was THEM who asked for him to be chained, it was THEM who led to ALL OF THIS. and now. Now what. Now there's nothing that CAN be said. There's no forgiveness that can be shared. There's no explanations to be given. Narinder is furious for the betrayal they cast upon him but what can he do. How can he express that when the Shamura he knew is barely there

(and not to mention HE was the one to PUT THEM into that state)

Like on one hand they now get to exist in an almost blissful ignorance, no longer weighed down by grief and regret for all they'd done, but on the other. like

They must be so confused. And to some extent maybe frustrated. They appeared in the middle of nowhere, dragged out of an eternal torment that they only remember through brief horrible flashes compounded with a tidal wave of guilt and sorrow that they can't. Remember the source of. and what?

They just live here. They work here. They worship a Lamb. They don't know why, but they suppose that's what they're meant to be doing. That's what everyone's telling them.

Save for these four strangers who keep approaching them and telling them otherwise. Claiming to be their siblings, begging for them to remember them, when all they can do is stare back because. Who are these people? Why can I vaguely feel a sense of comfort and warmth around them, as though they should mean something to me?

And sometimes they do remember. Sometimes a moment of clarity hits them and they laugh in fond remembrance of Heket's fierce temper, and how she was SO upset to no longer be the spoiled youngest when... someone else arrived, whomever that might've been. But then it's strange... Why can't they remember Heket's voice?

They swear they remember her so clearly. If they squint, the silent frog sat next to them looks a lot like her, but she would never sit in silence like this, surely. And she'd been so small back then; just a feisty little child.

Maybe they're mistaken. Maybe it's been a long time since Heket existed.

They're not all that certain. But they do know that they keep getting very obviously glanced at by a squid across the way. One who needs them to speak up, or else he can't seem to hear them. They're not sure why they knew that innately upon meeting him. Perhaps it was the sight of his tattered ears that gave it away. Of course, that must be it.

Regardless, his wary side-eyes are nothing compared to the bright red ones in the dark.

The ones that bore into them with such ferocity that they feel they should be burning beneath the gaze. But they can't tell with what emotion they're being perceived with.

All they know is that, when those three eyes cut through the veil of night to stare at them.

They feel somehow remorseful.

#like how do you begrudge someone who genuinely cannot remember anything. Not only about what they've done but even #who they are #you can get angry with them and tear them down for all they've done but what will that accomplish. they don't know what you're talking abou #all they can do is respond with empty apologies #and it's not like they're completely gone. They're not an empty husk devoid of personality #And that makes it harder because it's like nothing's changed but they can't. Remember you #Or what they've done to you #Or what they've done to anyone #and it sucks. It sucks for you. It sucks for the one who is at a loss as to who they even ARE #and you shouldn't be focusing on your own agonies here because THEY'RE the one with their MEMORIES GONE #and yet #clamtalk #ok. something came over me there. sorry #cult of the lamb #cotl shamura #watch me have completely interpreted them wrong somehow shGLKSJDGH