#its not even like its a lie!!!! but its enough of a lie to not REALLY be the truth and i couldnt stand it ssbbhfdsdgjjjjj

[johannestevans]

What I love about the laios/kabru dynamic is that like. Laios is more comfortable with and obsessed with animals and monsters, monsters being his Special Interest

And it's like. One thing feeds into the other - he's alienated so he relates to and studies monsters

And this in turn triggers everyone around him to alienate and ostracize him further

MEANWHILE like. Kabru has always been ostracised because of like, his own features, his light eyes contrasted with his skin, and his early exposure to the monsters of the dungeon nearby

For him BECAUSE of like, not his fear of monsters, but because of the political situation around how everyone there was killed, HIS focus and obsession and his own autistic Special Interest has become other people. Their thoughts, their machinations, the ways they lie and obscure

And because of people's obfuscations, as soon as he meets laios his obsession becomes laser-focused on laios himself, because this is a man with almost no machinations. He's been so focused on animals and now monsters his whole life, and SO autistic without learning to mask

Whereas kabru like. ALL he has is a mask. Esp BC of the implication of racism that he's experienced within the text like, even his face has been treated physically as more like a mask than a human face, and then its just lies on masking on obfuscation on repression

Whereas laios feels every single emotion immediately and painfully, and he expresses almost all of them openly - his love, his enthusiasm, his curiosity, his frustration, and to a limited extent, his rage and anger

Here you have laios, treated like a monster so he's become obsessed with monsters, to the extent that he almost fears people more despite craving to be with them, to be seen by them and loved by them, and to an extent being blind to the extent of their cruelties

And here you have Kabru, not treated like a monster, but treated effectively as less IMPORTANT than a monster, because of other people's politics and motivations, to the extent that he has become obsessed with appearing like The Right Person to every single person he meets

It's no wonder that Kabru should become so utterly obsessed with Laios, with studying him - and no surprise either that Laios should enthuse about this undivided and devoted attention that feels equivalent in EFFORT to love and friendship... And isn't that enough?

And at first, no, but I think. So rapidly it would and could become so. Because laios' loyalty is so fierce and devoted, and I think Kabru would be blindsided by how EAGER laios is to please him even though kabru remains, in his own eyes, distant and a bit apart from him

And kabru for like. Studying laios so fervently and focusedly, as intense and off-putting as that may be, he comes to and will come further to understand laios better and more intuitively than anyone else, and no one in the world but falin has ever BOTHERED to do that

And isn't that love? Kabru might not call it that, might be disdainful at the very idea, but if it walks like love and talks like love and feels like love and takes even more effort than love... That's enough, right? That's good, right? Laios is grateful

And the more grateful he is, the more frustrated Kabru will get. Doesn't he respect himself? Doesn't he want more? Doesn't he care enough to DEMAND more?But laios doesn't like to make demands - he likes to be grateful for what he's given. For kabru.

#musings #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #Labru #kabru of utaya #laios touden

[lowgothree]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜

chapter no. 000!          

𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637

𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!

THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 

but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 

but it wasn’t enough anymore. 

perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 

“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 

you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”

“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 

“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 

paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 

“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.

“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.

“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”

she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.

so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.”

she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.

#anything but you ✹ꯣ #paige bueckers x reader

[v1xyboy9]

4Me 4Me - Matt sturniolo

♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱

♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱

Summary: completely ghosting your ex boyfriend definitely helped you get over him…right ??

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI !!!, use of alcohol, weed, and nicotine, language, tiny bit of smut, switch!matt x Switch!reader, uses of pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, pretty girl), not proof read, lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 5.8k

You and Matt dated for a year and ended up on bad terms due to your jealous toxic behavior and Matt’s possessiveness. For the first 2 months of the break up yall stayed in contact and still acted like a couple until you got a fucking grip and completely ghosted him on the 3rd month. You started going out a lot more and making new friends even flirted with a couple guys but nothing was truly helping that bit of emptiness that you still felt without Matt.

It’s now been 10 months since you and Matt broke up and 8 months since you’ve completely cut contact. You stopped going out as much you really just focusing on yourself and fixing your bad behaviors making yourself a bit cold and distant with everyone in your life, your friend even calling you “heartless” at one point. And maybe also you know tattoo therapy….

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Tara invited me to her party that’s tonight and of course I said yes, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her or even went to a party period.

Its was currently 8pm and I’m contemplating going now that I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror or a bit to long

“Yeah no I can’t wear a dress”

Everything about it was just unflattering and too feminine I change into some baggy dark wash jeans with one of those black rave star halter tops that literally only covers your boobs and the rest of it is straight up string

I accessories with a black BEBE belt , black and white tie dye beanie, studded cuff bracelets, and to finish off the look some black and white DC shoes. I also make sure to lift my thong a tad bit so you could see it poking out of my waistband

“Okay now I feel better”

I definitely started dressing less fem and more masc over these couple months but honestly it’s a nice change I personally think it’s made my style better

I check the time it’s 8:30pm and my Uber should be here in 5 minutes. I grab my phone, my vape, my penjamin, and my house keys. Lock the door and happily go outside and get in my Uber

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Pulling up to Tara’s party you got a bit of a qweezie feeling in your stomach but just brush it off texting Tara letting her know your here and step out of the car thanking the Uber then head inside.

It was loud and surprisingly dark you try to look around and see if you recognized anyone…..JAKE ! It was always easy to spot him due to his height. You head in the direction of Jake but also looking around to see if you know anyone else, you see Tana in the distance with her bf, Johnnie awkwardly standing next to Sam while he talks to Colby. It was nice to see your friends again you couldn’t lie you missed being out like this.

You finally get to Jake lightly tugging on his jacket for him to notice you, Jake looks down in confusion but breaks into a smile once he sees you

“Y/NNNNN nice to see that you escaped prison” he chuckles and embraces you into a hug

“Please don’t make me seem like a criminal Infront of people that don’t know me” chuckles “but thank you I really have Tara to thank though, speaking of her where is she ?”

“I actually do not know but maybe the bar knowing her”

Chuckles “yeah you’re right”

You turn in the direction of the bar and sure enough you see her tiny self

“God damn y/n how many tattoos did you get within these past couple months, your more covered than me”

You look around confused for a second then realized you never posted about your tattoos when you got them

“Oh shit right dude honestly um I thinkkkk twenty, cause I have 28 in total right now and when we meet I only had 8”

“Your crazy”

“Says you you also have a fuck ton of tattoos”

“Yeah but mine are small patch work you’res is like HUGE”

“If you think any of these are huge then you should see my most recent tattoo it goes down my whole leg”

“Your actually insane now go see Tara cause she has something for you”

He lightly pushes the small of your back in the direction of the bar which you moved heading to where Tara is your anxiety spiking for some reason you take a hit of your vape and continue

Tara sees you coming her way and started squealing in excitement and runs to hug you and you hug her back of course

“Ughhh you don’t know how much I’ve missed you you really went all ghost on everyone for so long” she looks you up and down “like look at these tattoos most of these weren’t here a while go” she chuckles “you look so hot though maybeeee might get a guys number you neverrrr know”

You laugh at her teasing blushing a little bit

“Nono I’m really not here for that I just want to have a good time you know that”

“Hehe okay we’ll take a shot with me pleaseeee”

“Just one”

“Three”

“Two”

“Fine two”

“Give me a chaser bro I am not taking these straight”

Tara laughs handing you her Diet Coke “Go first”

I throw back both of the shots then chug down the coke

“Uhhh fuck I hate alcohol so much”

You Take a hit of your vape and pen

“Smoking is also bad for you, you know”

“Yes but I much rather kill my lungs then my liver thank you very much, also Jake said you have something for me what is it”

“Oh yeah um it’s not a gift or anything but more like someone gave me this to give back to you, open your hand”

You give Tara your hand while she places something in it

“Promise me not to get upset”

“I can’t promise anything Tara but I won’t make a big deal out of it”

“Okay”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

She moves her hand, it’s a ring and bracelet…. Matt’s ring and bracelet that I gave him when we first started dating.

“Well that sucks it’s the one thing I wasn’t expecting coming from him, give it back to him they’re his not mine”

“Give it to him yourself y/n it’s been 8 months”

“Yeah I guess right…”

Tara smiles a little

“Okay well let’s not worry about that now let’s have fun”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Nick pov

“MATT YOURE COMING INSIDE”

“NO IM NOT I BROUGHT YOU AND CHRIS HERE NOW GET OUT”

“I’m tired of your depressed self you never have fun, ever since y/n broke up with you, you’ve been MISERABLE and I’m tired of it, it’s been 8 months officially, tighten the fuck up and get over it”

“Matt you even got ready JUST GO IN you act like we’re gonna see y/n, I tell you all the time that women has CHANGED for the better at that. she doesn’t go out anymore she’s a homebody and on her work grind dude”

“I don’t understand why you still talk to her”

“She didn’t want too for the longest but I made her stay my friend cause I didn’t wanna lose a good friend cause of my brothers possessives and his own problem’s”

“She also had things wrong with her”

“NO SHIT MATTTTTTT SHES THE ONE WHO NOTICED THAT AND DECIDED TO END IT”

“Matt come on dude you’ll be with us the whole time”

“I do not wanna go”

“You are not about to miss ANOTHER Tara yummy party now get your ass out of the car, NICK GRAB HIM”

I hop out of car and open the driver door and pull Matt out the car while Chris pushes him out, Matt is extremely pissed off

“OKAY JUST GET THE FUCK OFF ME”He straightens himself out

“Okay we can go inside yall are so annoying”

“Wait Matt where is your ring and bracelet?”

“I guess I just forgot them”

“You fucking idiot”

I could tell he was lying it’s not hard to tell he always wears them and he was fidgeting with his hands way to much

My phone vibrated in my pocket it was from y/n

“Nick are you at Tara’s party ?”

“About to go in why !?”

“Im coming outside”

“WAIT YOURE HERE ?!?!?”

“Um yeah Tara invited me??”

“Stay inside”

“Now why the fuck would you tell me to stay inside?”

I look up from my phone to see y/n coming towards us with a confused look on her face

“Oh fuck”

My eyes dart to the side looking at matt for the second, she turns her head to look at him then tilts her head

“Oh That’s why, well I came to give you Matts bracelet and ring back but since he’s here”

She walks to him and places Matt’s bracelet and ring in his hand

“Next time don’t send someone else to do your dirty work Matthew I know you’re not weak like that”

“Y/n I-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself Matt I don’t need to know, it was good see you three, I’ll be going inside now if you’ll excuse me”

We watched as y/n walked back inside

“Now if I must say y/n has only gotten more attractive, holy fuck even the way she composed herself”

“Chris shut the fuck up” I start “well is that what you wanted Matt”

“Her tattoos…holy fuck”

“Oh my god your not even paying attention”

“I am I am but what the hell why did she only get more attractive and I’ve gotten less”

“Your not ugly your a very handsome boy”

“Yes a very attractive young man”

“Okay yeah but COMPARED TO THAT no dude I just fumbled”

“I mean not really yall where toxic asf nearing the end of it”

“Yeah but she’s changed”

“And you haven’t soooo let’s move on with this conversation and get THE FUCK inside please and thank you”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Y/n pov

I run back inside to find tara and grab her by the arm

“Matt is here I ran into him by accident”

“Girl huh how?”

“Nick told me he was outside so I went to give him Matt’s stuff but he was literally right there I just gave Matt his stuff of course but I spoke to him but I feel like I was super harsh with it”

“Girl breathe… talk to him literally what is the harm it’s been 8 months I’m sure he would understand also it’s not like you like him still”

Bats eyelashes blank stare

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me y/n”

“IM JOKING IM JOKING but I do wanna apologize to him for everything cause it was mostly my fault”

“Okay but wasn’t he like overly possessive”

“Yeah… but I always pushed his boundaries with that shit and was always insecure and made him not have any privacy like I definitely need to apologize to him more than he does to me”

“Instead of telling me that why don’t you just go”

“Heeehhh let me go hotbox the restroom and enjoy my first thennnn I’ll go talk to him later in the night”

“Might as well get another shot in while you’re at it”

“Ugh fineeee just because I know your gonna bother me about it anyways”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Its 10:35pm now your a bit more drunk then you would like and you where also a tad bit high as well.

You feel all sweaty and crammed now kinda wanting to go home now but you still wanna talk to Matt so you go to find him. you stumble apon chris first though he was sitting and talking to colby and his girlfriend Malia

“Hmm chris have you seen matt?”

“I havent actually why”

“I wanna talk to him”

“y/n youre drunk”

“Yes i know chris im not gonna do anything stupid trust”

“Hmm dont know if i should”

“He going into the bathroom right now” colby spoke up

“Hehe thank you colby also Malia you look absolutely gorgeous”

“Thank you y/n” she giggles

“Hmm of course”

You very joyfully head to where that bathrooms are and stand there and wait for matt to come out, getting more nervous you hit your pen

“You waiting for someone beautiful”

You look up and meet eyes with a guy youve never meet before, you look at him confused

“Random flattery wont work on me”“Awe come on you wouldnt dress that way for no reason”

“What are you implying exactly huh”

“You know what i mean look at you” he goes to grab your waist and you back up

“Hm okay well imma give you two options now. 1. Leave and dont bother me again, or 2. Continue to harass me and i make a scene”

“Awe come on a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be threatening no one” he went to brush your hair behind your ear but you slap his hand away

“Try some stupid shit again dawg”

“Awe what you think you all tuff i bet i could bend you over right here and fuck that attude out of you”

You spit in his face “lmao the fuck you think you are”

“YOU BITCH” he pushes you hard against the wall winding you

Just in the blink on an eye you see matt grab the dude by his collar his slam him against the wall “watch your fucking mouth and if see you put your hands on any women again ill wont just slam you against a wall next time, patchetic excuse of a man” matt lets go of the guy looking over at you worried then comes over too you

“Are you okay ?”

“Yeah i didnt feel it tbh im a little to drunk”

“Um can i jus-”

“Wait no dont say anything can we talk outside i really need to talk to you”

“Um yeah lets go to the van”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

You both head outside and get in the van at first it’s just silence between yall until Matt clears his throat so you speak up

“it’s been a while since I’ve sat up here”

“Yeah it’s one think Chris doesn’t have to worry about anymore”

“He must of loved when I stopped coming around huh”

“Only for the part he didn’t have to fight anyone for front seat, he misses messing with you he really sees you as a older sister y/n”

You didn’t even hear him you were too much in your head which lead to word vomit

“I’m sorry for everything, I was a pretty shitty girlfriend I never had trust for you even though you gave me no reason to feel like that I had a lot of mental health issues going on and I pushed everything onto you and it just became more and more toxic cause my jealously and insecurity’s only grew… I truly am sorry for everything”

There was a moment of pure silence which scared you a bit until Matt let out a light chuckle

“I see that you’ve gotten way better at talking about your feelings”

“Yeah it’s called get on anti depressants and getting help”

“Oh shit sorry..”

“Nono oh my god I was joking about the anti depressants, I am on ADHD medications now though” you laugh and how easily he believed you

“You’re an idiot”

“Youre a bigger one”

“Shut up”

“Hey, don’t catch an attitude with me Mister” you grab him by the chin making him look at you then let go

“Okay I’m sorry I take it back, but I do wanna say I still can’t apologize to you about how possessive I was cause well it hasn’t changed, I thought it was cause well I haven’t had any interest in anybody but no… seeing you again especially with other guys it gave the same feeling in the stomach that it did back then as well”

“Matt can I ask you something”

“Yeah of course ?”

“When we were together what was i for you”

He looks at you confused but then just sighs

“Everything. You made everything just feel so perfect nothing was bothersome anymore all my thoughts would leave my head I was just happy… anytime I was away from you all I was waiting for was you to text or call me once you weren’t busy anymore or asleep, everything revolved around you because I wanted it too, you felt like my true safe place… and when you ghosted me it honestly ruined me.

“Matt…”

“I thought it was some kinda sick joke at first but even Nick and Chris couldn’t get through to you.. it felt like my whole world crumbled down. After the first week I got a little better since Nick forced you not to break contact with him and Chris just because of me, I’m pretty sure neither of them told you this but sometime when you would call them they would have the phone on speaker just so I could hear your voice…it was the least they could do they said cause they felt bad”

“I’m sorry Matt I didn’t know it affected you so much…but I do remember on the 4th month of having no contact with you Nick called me at like 3am asking me if I could just get back with you could shut up but I didn’t know what he ment at the time”

He looked confused for a second but then it clicked

“I woke him up one night cause I couldn’t sleep and just complained about how much I missed you”

“You know I unblocked your number on the 4th month right?”

“Huh no what ?!?”

“Yeah I unblocked your number a while ago totally not to see if you would call me or something…but since you didn’t I just assumed you were over it at that point, it lifted a weight off my shoulders but now knowing that wasn’t the case, I’m sorry”

“Hm don’t apologize you didn’t know”

“I still feel bad” you pout

“Wipe that pout off your face you look ridiculous”

“Ugh you’re still so mean when I pout”

“Uh yeah your not a kid don’t baby yourself”

“I don’t even mean too you know that”

He laughs resulting in you taking a hit of your cart and exhale in his face, he waves the smoke out of his face

“Rude”

“YA MOTHER, actually I take that back I love your mom so much”

“She actually asked about you last week well she asked Nick not me”

“Awe did she really?”

“Yeah she asked when you would come to visit her in Boston”

“What yall tell her?”

“Nick told her that he would ask you”

“He never did ask”

“Oh well um when would you wanna go see her and dad?”

“Next time yall take the trip out there I’ll go with yall”

A huge smile plasters across Matts face, he uses his hand to cover his face trying not to seem more happy then he needed to be

“Yeah okay, I’ll let Chris and Nick know and we’ll figure out a week to go”

“Okay perfect, I’m actually kinda excited I haven’t been in forever”

“Does this mean we’re back to being friends?”

“Absolutely” you give him a bright smiles “just make sure to not go back into bad habits, I’ll make Nick go off on you”

“Yeah yeah whatever”

“I’m serious Matthew”

“I promise I won’t go back to my old bad habits”

“Pinky promise”

I hold my pinky out so Matt can interlock his but got distracted by the feeling of the car door opening behind me, it was Chris

“UGHHHAHHHHHH MOVE”

“Chris back now don’t even start”

“She just came back and I already have to sit in the back”

“She’s a women she gets front, go”

“Ughhh”

Chris dramatically closes the door with a big huff then gets in the back with Nick

“Sorryyyyy”

“You’re not sorry you have a full smile on your face”

I couldn’t help but giggle, I missed this to be honest.

“Okay let’s get y/n home and then call it a night huh”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Almost 4 months have passed since the party, you started hanging out with the triples more often even if it was just to sit in there house and do work, Nick wanted you up and out of your house even making you run errands with him and Matt just like yall use to. You were mostly with Nick and sometimes Chris for the first 2 weeks but gradually starting hanging with Matt more often weither it be watching a movie together or just talking about a topic over a meal.

After a month has passed yall started going on night drives together sometimes it wouldnt even be days you were at the house he would just randomly come by your place and tell you to come downstairs. Matt always knew you enjoyed listening to music and driving around at night and it was a nice way to catch up more, matt even opened up a bit more about his insecurities and internal struggles

Now going into a new month the boys planned a trip to Boston to visit their parents and of course you’re going along, you’re currently all packed and waiting for Matt to get to your place your legs bounce with anxiety but also excitement, you haven’t seen there parents in a while

Soon enough Matt texted you that they were here, you quickly headed downstairs seeing the van putting your luggage in the back you could hear Matt screaming at Chris to get in the back, Chris gets out of the front with a huff and gestures at you the get in

“Let’s go passenger princess we don’t have all day we have a flight to catch”

“Chris just shush”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

It’s now 6pm, trip there was nice no difficulties or anything except for Chris trying to scare you while on the plane resulting in Nick and Matt silently yelling at him cause he made you scream super loud by accident. once getting through all the airport security and whatnot yall where finally able to get outside, Nick ordered a Uber for yall while yall waited. You’re still a little tried leaning your head on Matt’s shoulder

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Mhm just still tired, sorry”

“It’s okay, you can take a nap in my room when we get to the house yeah?”

“Can we eat first?”

“Mom knows we’re coming she said she’s making us dinner so you’ll eat don’t worry”

He tucks your hair behind your hair and kisses the top of your head, only recently he started being physically affectionate with you again and your fine with it he knows your boundaries

Soon enough the Uber gets there and yall head to the sturniolo household

Once there the boys head in first and you follow behind them, Mary Lou ignored the boys and engulfed you into a big hug

“Ohh honey how have you been”

“I’ve been good, how have you been?”

“Oh honey you know the same old same old nothing new around here, I’m glad to see you again I thought I wouldn’t see you again after Matt told me yall broke up”

“I thought the same thing to be honest but everything is worked out now, I’m glad to see you again and doing well”

“Same to you”

“Ayeeee look who it is, my daughter in law that’s technically not my daughter in law anymore but still definitely is to me”

You laugh at jimmys comment before he gives you a small squeeze

“It’s nice to see you again sweetheart”

“Same to you”

“Okok whatever y/n isn’t important what about your sons?”

Of course Chris had to speak up, you see Matt rushing back downstairs you didn’t even see him go upstairs

“Your stuff is in my room if you need anything”

“Thank you Matt”

“Mhm of course”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

It’s been 3 days since yall have been in Boston it’s been a lot of family time and catching up, you’ve been sleeping in Matt’s room on his bed while he continues to protest to sleep on the couch in the living room even though youve told him multiple times that its okay for him to sleep with you.

Its currently 8pm on a wednesday evening its just you and matt in the house chilling in the living room. mary lou, jimmy, chris, and nick went out to a small get together with friends. Matt didnt wanna go out which is common, you stayed because well your not from boston and dont know anybody theyre going out with plus you really wanted to catch up on your reading since your behind.

You get up from the couch to stretch

“Imma go take a quick shower”

“You showered yesterday though?’

“Imma just wash my body off not like im washing my hair”

“Hm okay have fun”

“I guess??”

You giggle as you walk away genuinely wondering why he seemed annoyed by you going to take a shower. You clip your hair back then grab some jammies and your hygiene stuff then go to the restroom to take your quick shower. You lied about the the quick shower you actually ended up doing an everything shower minus your hair cause you felt like it, it still wasnt super long only 20 minutes. After drying off you slip on your black lace panties and your junji ito PJ pants over them, tossing on a black spagettii strap not bothering to put a bra on, You also do your skin care then clean up and head back to matts room putting your dirty clothes in the basket you and matt are sharing for the time being.

You grab your headphones, penjamin, reading glasses, and book from your bag then get comfortable on matts bed putting in your headphone and connecting them to your phone choosing your reading playlist, opening your book placing the book mark next to you and put your glasses on, finally taking a blinker cough your lungs out a bit and now ready to get completely immersed in the book.

Its been 20 minutes since you finished showering matt figured you would comeback downstairs once your done but youve been gone for 40 minutes now and it was bothering him so he went upstairs to his room to see you peacefully reading on his bed not even noticing that he walked in, he decided not to bother you and just grabbed clothes so he could go shower as well leaving you be for now until he was done.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

I picked up my phone to check the time its 7:27pm youve been reading for a little over an hour now, you take a quick stretch then sit back down to continue reading

“Damn you still reading?”

“Oh hm?”

I look up from my book and see Matt shirtless with grey sweatpants on and damp hair. I could feel my face heating up

“I came In here earlier and you were reading I figured by the time I finished my shower you would be done, didn’t know you wear glasses though when did that start”

“Oh. Um they’re just reading glasses I’ve had them for a while now but I never really read but now I use them all the time”

“Can you look at me and point your finger up”

Confused but curious I do as he says, he takes a picture and starts laughing

“You’re so cute”

“Oh shut up, let me see”

“I’m being serious”

He walks over to me showing me his phone with a stupid smile on his face

“I look so stupid”

“Erm actually looking ahh”

“SHUT UP”

“I’m kidding I’m kidding, I think you look very beautiful with your glasses”

He places his hand under my chin making me look up at him threw my glasses

“Don’t look at me with those eyes sweetheart”

“Maybe keep your mind out of the gutter, I’m just looking at you Matt”

He chuckles and lets go of my chin

“Well I’m headed back downstairs enjoy the rest of your night”

“Matt for the love of god can you just stay up here with me”

“Naw naw I don’t wanna bother you”

“Matthew Bernard sturniolo please stay with me”

I don’t know why I’m begging, but I just wanted to be with him I wanted it to feel like old times I don’t want him to put that space between us anymore, I just want him again.

“Are you sure?”

“Matt I swear to god-“

“Okok I get it I’ll stay”

“Okay, I’m almost done with with book though so give me like 5 minutes”

The moment I pick up my book he takes it from my hand and places it in a higher spot where I can’t reach

“You’re done reading cause I’m bored and cause I said so”

“Fine”

I take off my glasses as Matt crawled into bed with me, cuddling closer to him he wraps his arm around me and plays with my hair

“What’s going on sweetheart, what’s going through your head”

“Nothing why do you think that ?”

“Well it’s just that this is the first time we’ve done this In a long time so you know”

“I just wanna be close to you I don’t know, I’m comfortable around you”

“Glad I make you feel comfortable”

He kisses my forehead continuing to run his fingers through my hair, I drape my arm over his chest scooting myself closer to him

“Matt.”

“Yes?”

“Is it bad that I don’t wanna let you go ever again”

“No, cause neither do I. You’re so important to me on so many levels just those 8 months alone went to show me that I was miserable without you”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t apologize, you did what you had to do and guess what you learning and progressing also helped me out you know”

Just watching him talk made you smile, Matt in general makes your heart feel warm

“Matt can you kiss me?…”

“Woah..y/n I-“

“Nevermind sorry that was to mu-“

Matt cups my cheeks and places a small peck on my lips then looks at me for reassurance, I nod my head. He pulls me into another kiss it’s slow but passionate just like it’s always been, I began to move myself from my side to the middle to straddle him, my thighs on either side of his body directly placed above his slowly but surely growing erection. I break the kiss, Matt places his hands on my thighs looking up at me

“Are you sure about this”

“If I wasn’t I would tell you”

“Hmkay just making sure baby, is it okay if I mark you”

“Only if they’re hidden”

“Can I make just one of them noticeable?”

“If you buy me the pair of shoes I’ve been wanting”

I said it as a joke cause Osiris NYC 83 skate shoes are 1. Expensive and 2. Lowkey hard to find especially the color ways I want. Seeing a smile spread across Matt’s face told me that he already bought me the shoes and I should have come up with a better deal.

“Whatever your thinking in your pretty little head in correct”

He flipped us over him now being on top of me

“Safe word is meatball”

“Matthew you’ve gotta be kidding me”

He chuckles and kisses my neck

“I’m joking sweetheart gosh, you know it’s always been strawberry nothing has changed”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

He carefully takes the clip out of your hair throwing it across the room, he kisses the side of your lip slowly going down peppering kisses over your neck he lightly bites down on your collarbone earning a whimper out of you

“Ow Matt”

“Sorry baby”

He kisses where he bit soothing his hand over it with his other hand slipping it under your shirt

“Can I take this off?”

You nod your head

“Words sweetheart”

“Yes”

“Arms up”

He easily slips your shirt off again tossing it across the room

“No bra?”

“Shut up”

“Yes ma’am”

He kisses down your chest to stomach leaving marks every once in a while, coming back to your lips giving you a small peck

“My pretty girl”

Your face heats up in embarrassment making you cover your face with your arms

“Awe come on don’t do that baby, let me see your pretty face”

You put your arms down

“There’s my beautiful girl”

“Matt just fuck me”

He chuckles “your so impatient I’m just admiring you honey, it’s been too long also just look at these beautiful tattoos on you”

He traces the stars that go down your left ribs, you squeeze you thighs together at this point everything Matt is doing just feels like teasing

“Do you really need me that bad”

“Oh shut the fuck up”

Matt slides his finger under your waist band

“When is the last time you’ve came y/n”

“Matt don’t make me answer that”

“No I wanna hear the answer”

“Matthew”

“Yes sweetheart”

You sighed knowing damn well he wasn’t gonna let it go

“The week before I ghosted you”

“Hm that was also the last time we had sex isn’t it?”

“Yes now shut up and just fuck me Matt please”

“At least you said please”

He quickly pulls down your bottoms panties included, Kissing down your stomach once again until reaching your pussy giving it a light peck

“Already wet huh?”

You close your legs around his head, you notice his eyes scanning over the tattoo on your under right thigh

“Yeah and what your gonna do about it ??”

“Eat you the fuck out”

(I would write full smut for yall but I’m genuinely so bad at it..)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Now naked cuddling in bed together watching SpongeBob while Matt plays with your hair making you doze off a little

“You tried sweetheart?”

���Kinda”

“Let me get some clothes on you then we can sleep yeah?”

“Yeah”

Matt grabs you a pair of his boxers and a shirt of his

“You got it or want me to do it”

“I’ll do it just throw on some boxers please, I love you and your body and your dick very much but please cover it up”

“Repeat what you said”

“Throw on some boxers please”

“After that”

“I love you?”

“I love you too”

He puts on his boxers while you slip on your as well and put his shirt on, he lays back in bed tacking you in the process

“Does this mean we’re back together?”

“Don’t rush it pretty boy ask me again in the morning and I’ll say yes as of right now though let’s sleep”

“I love you so much”

“I love you too Matt, I won’t leave you again I promise”

“You better you know much I hate when you leave, just stay”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Ragghhh hihiiii um this is kinda an authors note i guesss sorry if this is kinda wack shit I had writters block for 8 months and this is my first writing coming out of it so be nice 3:

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #Spotify #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #smut

[losersiren]

𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k 

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots. 

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consumes his entire being. ”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.”  The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath. 

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but my nervousness has sabotaged me alas.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.” 

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.” 

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder: “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of the night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough. 

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession. 

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable. 

 “Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that? 

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell me why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them. 

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.  

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires 

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that 

“Ambrose…” 

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.”  The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with. 

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.” 

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”  

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed. 

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh. 

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord. 

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible. 

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun  Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”  

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad. 

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

 “Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it. 

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to. 

 Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?  

Oh. how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to do some research for this one, but it was a fun process learning more about Regency lingo and gun history. For my next full fic. I was thinking of a yandere! Cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon, my little guppies!! 

#losersirencaught #anon ask #if you saw me post this before no you didnt #male yandere #oc x reader #yandere blog #x reader #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere thoughts #yandere x reader #yandere male #soft yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

[jaembun]

the way you look should be a sin.

if mark’s at your door, the only thing you’re going to do is let him in ！⠀⸻⠀mark lee x gnr ⠀ fluff (?) pre rs ⠀ wc 1.4k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀my girlfriend! my! girlfriend! thnku isa for inspiring me to write this he’s kind of the only thing important ever

you hadn’t really been properly asleep anyway, having drifted off in a half-slumber after scrolling mindlessly on your phone for a while, and you supposed that was why the sudden sound of it ringing from its place still loosely clasped in your hand woke you up so easily. everything was still vaguely blurry when you pushed yourself onto your elbows, squinting hard in order to see the name of the contact flashing across your screen. mark met your eyes, and you flopped backwards onto your mattress before tapping the accept button and then pressing the same hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn.

“are you awake?”

you pulled the phone back from your ear to aim a slightly incredulous look at it, even if you knew your best friend would’ve been none the wiser to the expression.

“i mean, i am now. what is it, markles? did you forget something?”

mark stumbled over his next words, muttering them under his breath more than anything. “no, but.. ah, nevermind, dude, it’s fine. i don’t know why i called.”

you sat up slightly in your bed, ignoring the slight chill the blanket falling away from yourself gave you, eyebrows furrowed a little in concern at the unsure tone of your friend. “mark? what’s up?”

he started to say something more but cut himself off, words trailing off into nothing. it was silent on the phone for a few moments then, only the sound of your shared faint breathing coming through the lines until he finally got his words together and spoke up properly.

“i’m, um. i’m outside your apartment.”

that woke you up fully, eyes widening a little as you stood up out of your bed, leaving it unmade as you padded over to your window and looked down more than a few floors to the street outside—where, if you squinted, you could almost make out mark’s figure lit up by the streetlights and standing alone on the pavement, recognisable mostly by his familiar fleece jacket.

“what the fuck, mark? i’ll buzz you in, come on. you must be freezing, i don’t—why are you over here so late? did donghyuck sexile you, or something?”

you stayed at the window just long enough to watch his small head shake before moving over to your door in order to let him up, shivering again with the now complete lack of your blanket.

“nah, he’s at jeno’s. i just.. i don’t know. i missed you, man.”

the words made you stop in your tracks, for a second. his voice was small, but it sounded sincere—and it was sincere, you knew it was, because mark couldn’t have told a lie even if he was paid to do it. had been earnest since before he knew what it meant. you covered how choked up you suddenly felt by scoffing, depsite it sounding weak even to your own ears.

“yah, you sweet talker, you probably just want me to make you a hot chocolate. get up here already, hm?”

his laugh was barely that, sounded more like an exhale of air than anything, but you were glad for it all the same. quiet fell over the two of you again, but this time it was more comfortable, with only the idle sounds of the elevator and his footfalls coming all the way to your door. 

“see you in a sec,” was all you murmured through the line before hanging up and shoving your phone into the pocket of your sweats, fiddling with the lock on the door for a moment, another, before it was finally open and mark was standing before you. 

he looked tired—you weren’t surprised, seeing the last time you checked it was creeping past two in the morning—but his mouth still curved up into a small smile that you mirrored with ease, beckoning him in and pushing the door shut behind him, reaching out with the tips of your fingers to slide the lock into place.

“so what’s up, markl—“

before the nickname could fully pass your lips mark was falling into you, head finding solace tucked into the crook of your neck hands coming up to loosely grip onto the fabric of your shirt on your waist. his fingertips were red from the cold, but his cheek was hot from where it was resting on your shoulder. 

“can we.. go t’bed?”

it was just as mumbled as it’d been over the phone, but this time a lot louder—he was right next to your ear, after all, the periodic soft exhales hitting your skin causing little shivers running across it that weren’t from the chill, this time. you simply nodded in answer to his request and attempted to detach yourself from his grip to walk him over to your unmade (but comfortable, you defended to yourself) mess of a bed, but mark made a vaguely whiny noise of protest and clung onto you tighter.

your laugh came out a little too high in the dead silence of your apartment, hoping even if mark did notice the way your ears burned a little hotter that he’d be kind enough (or tired enough, at least) not to bring it up as you slowly walked him to the sheets, trying not to trip up on his feet shuffling backwards, trying not to focus on the way he felt so malleable in your careful hold.

“take this off,” you murmured lowly once you’d reached the foot of your bed, tugging gently at the fleece he was still wearing and trying not to cringe at how suggestive your words sounded even if your intentions were innocent. you focused on nudging at his feet, too, where his shoes were still on. “and these. you’re not putting your dirty trainers anywhere near my blanket, markles, for real.”

“mm.” was all he hummed in reply, but didn’t move from his spot. you were ready to do it for him if it came down to it, but before you could reach for the zipper of his jacket he taking half a step back, barely out of your space, and doing it himself. they were left lying idle on your floor once he’d rid himself of both the offending items, but you figured they’d be just fine for a night—it wasn’t like you didn’t have a few hoodies and jeans doing exactly the same thing while you avoided putting them away properly for a day or two longer.

where you stopped in your place once he had deemed himself ready go, unsure of what move to make next, mark had no such qualms. he let himself fall back onto your sheets and got himself comfortable like they were his own, the way his brow furrowed when he didn’t see you following a clear indication of what he wanted you to do, and you found yourself being able to do nothing but comply with his wishes, slipping in next to him after abandoning your phone on the bedside table.

the lights were faint, streetlights only just shining in through your window, but you could still see his brown eyes trained on your own as you led there face-to-face. you tried to speak but, embarrassingly enough, your throat failed you, and so you only tried again after turning to the side for a moment to clear it. 

“are you okay?”

the smile was back. still small, still sincere. “i am now.” and. oh. mark was so—lovely, sometimes. all the time. you didn’t know what to do. but it seemed you didn’t need to, because then he was turning over, away from you, and then shifting backwards until it was all too clear right where he wanted you.

and so, swallowing back the way you felt choked up for the second that evening, you shuffled closer and slung an arm over his hip, feeling him relax under your touch almost instantly. it was more than just your blankets providing you with warmth, now. mark had always run a little hotter.

“night, markles.“ you mumbled half-into the nape of his neck, lips almost brushing his skin. there was a light sound as he tossed a hand back to find where yours was resting on his side and squeezed once. twice.

“see you t’morrow, ynnie.”

and that was all it needed to be. a boy in your arms, both in your bed. sharing warmth until the sunlight pouring in through your windows would force you to leave it. as simple as that.

#⠀⠀⏖ works ⊹ ᶻ ⁺⠀⠀ #⠀⠀마크 ⠀ ♪⠀⠀ #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #he is sooooo this song im in love with him a little bit

[oh-allie]

shakespeare and swooning

alhaitham x g/n reader

synopsis; you read one shakespeare play and now you want to impress your "buddy" alhaitham with your newfound knowledge !! what could go wrong?

fluff, g/n reader, TOTAL CRACKFIC, prick alhaitham, SWEARING, kind of a modern au ???? i mention "ringing tighnari" but that could just be imagined as using the akasha terminal !!!! didnt write this with a modern au in mind

warning ‼️ PLEASE dont expect this to be accurate, if youre a big classic literature fan then dont attack me for not being a NERD ☹️ just imagine a poser using their fancy words (because they think its cool)

you know how libraries are supposed to be a place of study and tranquility? no the fuck you don't, or at least you don't care, because running through the house of daena with shakespeares, "romeo and juliet," in your hands is NOT very tranquil.

multiple poor akademiya students look at you, PISSED OFF because your shoes are going clu-clonk on the marble floors, which wouldn't be an issue if you weren't scurrying through the library.

is that kaveh ?? he's giving you the same look he gives alhaitham every day ..

... but this is IMPORTANT !! you're on a MISSION right now !! you just finished reading the first act of "romeo and juliet," and you're convinced your brain has expanded tenfold in size.

you're now rushing to your good pal haitham to share your knowledge! how kind and gracious!

you're stopped before his house, you've known him for long enough and gotten close enough for him to let you come in whenever. you know kaveh isn't home, and haitham would never purposefully work overtime, so you're certain you can get his attention and show off in peace.

why are you so adamant about showing off to alhaitham? is it REALLY showing off, or are you trying to, heehee, impress him?? its too late to be flustered at this thought because you already unlocked the door with the spare key kaveh leaves behind one of haithams ugly ass decorative plants and you've taken off your shoes and oh god hes right there and the sunlight from the door is lighting up his face in that way that only happens to him and hes looking at you with a suprised, slightly annoyed, but incredibly fond look and oh no what was your plan again?

"greetings, alhaitham! ☝️🤓" you say, finding a surge of confidence remembering the story you read.

"... hey. what are you doing here?" his response is quick but before you respond he continues, "did you just say greetings?"

"indubidibdibdly! hath you be surprised?" you pretentious hipster. you think youre SO cool, but unfortunately your little crush doesn't seem very impressed either.

"okay, what are you doing? you're being weird." he's not even looking at you, and he's back in his chair before you can rush over and sit on the couch. "is something wrong? should i get tighnari to give you a checkup?"

you'd be touched by the care of the suggestion if he wasn't so cheeky in his tone.

"wha, what, no?! no what the hell- stop ringing tighnari."

"are thou o'er wrought with admiration?" you grin, somehow still under the impression that you sound cool.

he gives an eyebrow raise to that. not bothering to mark his place in his book, he stands up.

"i lie testy in why you act so unpregnant, my dear."

"what"

HUH ? what did bro just say ? testy ???? unpregnant ?? MY DEAR ??? backtrack again, UN-WHAT ??

"be still my beating heart, thou hast taken mine with absolute cunning." is he making fun of you i genuinely can't tell ... its like hes speaking in moon runes right now.

"haitham, heheh, WHAT are you DOING ??" you can't help but laugh at his funny little words, magic man. even if you're clueless to what he just said to you.

"whatever doth thou mean?" he's totally making fun of you !! after ALL your effort to impress him too?

"well, usually i do all the ranting and you sit pretty and listen, so it's weird that you're talking so much, especially like THAT?" fym sit pretty ....

"when words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain." that sounds familiar, but you can't think about it longer before he continues, "shall i compare thee to a summers day?"

"ALRIGHT, i recognize that one, dummy." you laugh, "were you really not impressed by me?" you whisper, the rush of embarrassment you shouldve felt in that library is finally catching up with you.

he stares at you for a second. you just wish you could find out what hes thinking up there, if you could even understand it.

and then he lets you into his mind, with a simple "i love you." as if alhaitham, renowned scribe of the akademiya, top student, couldn't find the words to describe how he felt for you.

or maybe that was what he felt for you. he loved you.

"... you called me unpregnant."

a/n; i read romeo and juliet like... 3 years ago.... so.. uam... 😇😇 totally accurate! hope this crackfic style of writing isnt too niche so this doesnt flop because EMBARRASSING....... do people even like al haitham anymore like guys lets go back to the good old days before the FRENCH came in..... (this is just me projecting cause i havent played genshin in a while and i still lovelove sumeru)

#al haitam x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #DONT LET THIS FLOP GANG IM PUTTING A LOT ON THE LINE POSTING GENSHIN FICS #shakespeare made up the word unpregnant #GUYS PLZPLZOLZ LIKE AND REBLOG SO I CAN SAY it popped off!! #WHEN PEOPLE ASK WHY I POSTED A GENSHIN FIC.... #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #al haitham #al haitham x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham x y/n #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #al haitham x gender neutral reader #was listening 2 when will my life begin when writing 😇 #alhiayham is my fancast for rapunzel !!!! #i started writing this in november of 2023 😇 #allies fics #crackfic #crack fic #wait guys hear me out #crackship layla x alhaitham #IS LAYLA A MINOR WAIT #if she isnt then WOOOOWWWW CUTIE..!!!! #its cute

[avensthetic]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐀 (sasanomaly)

even though i have nothing, i yearn for something remaining with nothing, i closed off tomorrow though i have nothing, yet because i have nothing i found it here: this melody

𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙠𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙖

━━ ╸the plan... well, it worked in its own twisted way. barely, but it worked. soon. it won't be long now, i’ll see you again. i’ll claw my way out of here if i have to. luck is no longer the only thing i have. now, i have you.

love, kakavasha

aventurine stared at penacony below, a complex place making his stomach churn. this mission wasn't just risky; it was borderline insane. a calculated act of vanishing, leaving behind a trail of calculated chaos to reclaim the planet for the IPC. the plan made perfect logical sense. he'd done the risk assessment himself. but logic offered little comfort when the odds of survival felt impossibly slim.

can he make it to you as promised?

before he'd knew it, aventurine already called your number, his mind still calculating escape routes and contingency plans. your voice, a familiar warmth, cut through the static buzz in his ear.  

"hey," he managed, trying to sound casual. 

"working late?" the soft background noise hinted at a cozy evening in, the direct opposite of the chaos about to unfold on his side. a familiar pang of longing twisted in his gut. 

"just tying up some loose ends," he replied, the lie slipping out with practiced ease.

each casual question, each shared laugh, felt like stealing moments he might not get back to.  he answered in clipped sentences. he just needed to hear your voice, a lifeline against the doubts making his heart hammer.

then there was the dreaded stillness on the line that usually meant you were losing patience with his curt answers. he can't help it. but wouldn't it be so easy to just… not come back? he has suffered enough, hasn't he? and hasn't he burdened you enough already?

"no matter what," your voice was soft, insistent, "come back to me."

it wasn't a plea, but a promise, a simple demand. the weight in his chest eased a fraction. he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.

he had nothing, closed off all tomorrows long ago as a survival tactic, lived on the edge everyday as if it were his last. but, because he had nothing, he found you, a light he calls hope.

"hey doll?" he hears you hum. "i really wanna kiss you." and he will, soon.

aventurine finally found his answer. he didn't want to let this world go yet. he wanted a tomorrow with sunlight glinting off your favorite mug, your scent on clean sheets, the feel of your fingers running carelessly through his hair. a tomorrow with you.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

#💌. from me to you #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x reader

[y-rhywbeth2]

Scouring a Q&A archive for realmslore, as I am wont to do, and seeing people being semi-officially (officially?) directed to Lords of Darkness when they ask about Realms-specific undead lore even in the 5e era is amusing, and also validating (I love that book. I love how creating tomb guardians/mummies works in the Realms: it's so fucked up. I love the Bhaalist mummy and his relationship problems. I want my Bhaalist to get mummified.)

But anyway the concept that that lore holds in 5e Toril is darkly hilarious to me for reasons, because you'd be applying this to BG3:

Greater and Lesser vampires: Toril does in fact have rare daylight walking vampires! They're created when a succubus kills you by kissing you (ie draining your life force and consuming your soul during make out sessions/sex) and then your corpse rises again as a soulless undead horror that can walk in sunlight. Other than the daywalking a greater vampire is exactly like a normal vampire.

And I'm just... You can get your soul eaten by a fiend in game: can you imagine Astarion's reaction if - after being dumb enough to get fucked to death by Haarlep I know they don't kill you in-game, humour me - you came back as a vampire able to walk in the sun right off the bat? Either he's going to be insanely envious (why do you get everything he wants through an act of terminal stupidity), or he's going to be extremely put out that he isn't special. "There are no vampires like me" Are you sure babe? Bet?

Also as far as Toril is concerned with undeath in its own setting: undeath is evil, as are all of it's sources and all acts of inflicting it upon somebody (except for Baelnorn), but the undead are people and a bit more complicated. Not necessarily terribly nice people, who are monsters and sometimes have to do horrible things due to their nature, but they have control of their actions do damage control and decide not to be total bastards. (Most are total bastards). There are folk stories and legends of protective ancestors and helpful undead, and some undead hunters are wont to let "sleeping undead lie" if they're not bothering anyone. Interestingly I also saw something today that some undead hunting is actually done by undead, who don't appreciate other, less pragmatic and/or morally inclined undead being more evil and destructive than they need to be ("‘nuisance’ undead") and risking encouraging hatred/fear of the undead and angry mobs amongst the living: do you mind, some of us are trying to unlive in relative peace here. How is a Lich supposed to study with clerics breaking down their door, you animals?? Different source again, but D&D's token "good" vampire is a Torilian native (and by "good" I mean Chaotic Neutral and messy, and currently being warped and tormented by the Dark Powers of Ravenloft who enjoy a good chew toy). Toril does have another "good" vampire in official material, but he's been cursed to be Lawful Good and would explicitly go back to being a monster if you lifted that curse, so methinks he doth not count.

#babbling #/astarion #Jander and Jonathon are both elves oddly #Why are all the potentially non-evil vampires on Toril elves

[duckie-darling]

(What if I posted a snippet of the slowburn luci hoof care WIP. what then)

Plenty of people in hell were night owls or just slept most of the day, but very few of them would wake up this early in the morning to cheerily cook what, from the sounds of it, was a full-course meal. If there was some kind of royal brunch being prepared, maybe it would be better to stay out of there - lie low, maybe see if that bartender (Husker was his name, you think?) has any cocktail peanuts to nibble on until the place clears out. You cautiously stick your head around the corner to glimpse the source of all the activity.

In no way did you expect that all the activity you heard from this room was coming from just one person.

He stood in front of the stove, whistling a jaunty little tune as he held a skillet in his right hand. He skillfully jerked the skillet, flipping a perfectly browned pancake into the air, which then did an acrobatic little flip before plopping back into the pan. His left hand was whisking some sort of concoction in a red bowl, which itself was being cradled in the air by a swirling golden light. On the counter off to his right, yet another swathe of golden magic was wrapped around a chef’s knife. It was rapidly julienning potatoes into perfect little matchsticks.

He let go of the whisk, grabbing instead - straight from the air above his head - a black spatula. The utensil was decorated with a shiny red apple at the handle. That, it turns out, was your first clue, but when he twirled quickly in place before coming to face you, you were suddenly certain exactly who it was you had just been caught spying on.

Lucifer - fallen angel, ruler of demons, King of hell - stood before you. 

Making pancakes. 

In an apron. 

Patterned with rubber ducks.

“Goooood morning!” he chirped, eyes brightening as he flipped the pancake again into the air, angling it to land gracefully on a platter that was already piled with its siblings. “Oh, haha, you’re a new face! Early risers get first choice!”

You blinked rapidly in surprise.

“Take a seat!” He snapped his fingers and one of the stools at the kitchen’s island pulled itself away from the counter as an invitation. There was a slight swirling sparkle of golden magic in the air above the surface, and a cascade of plates and silverware arranged themselves into a perfect place setting. The napkin was folded in the shape of a perfect origami swan (or duck?) in the middle of the plate.

“Are you thirsty?” He was talking too fast for you to move or even respond. “Apple? Orange? Pomegranate? Pick your poison!” Each word was punctuated by the fruit in question appearing in his hands, which he almost immediately started to casually juggle. Even just the fragrance of those fruits - an absolute delicacy in hell - made your mouth threaten to water.

The awkward smile turned less awkward, and his face lit up again. “Comin’ right up!” His 3 makeshift juggling balls quickly turned into four, five, eight, twelve. After a moment of showboating, each orange in turn hovered over top of your glass, squeezed itself dry, and then helpfully launched itself into the garbage can.

He paused a moment, giving you just enough time to inhale in the hopes of replying before he interrupted.  “Oh, but not REAL poison, heh!” his voice cracked and he looked slightly bashful over the misstep, finally breaking the constant excited chattering and replacing it with a slightly awkward silence.

“I-.....” You suddenly realized that somewhere in all that you had been given a command by the King of Hell, so you promptly sat on the stool that had been pulled out for you. “O-orange…?”

He dusted his hands off on his apron and gave a  brief bow, seemingly ending his performance. Then his eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance, stopping your heart until you realized he was staring at your glass. He snapped his fingers, adding both a silly straw and a ruby red paper umbrella. “That’s more like it.” He then spun on his heel, resuming his whistling as well as his work.

You sipped the juice. It was delectable.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #i legit don't know how to tag things #i just need to put something out into the world as motivation to finish this growing monster #no hoofcare yet tho #just a manic episode #hehe #lucifer morningstar x reader

[climbthemountain2020]

Flame of Autumn - Chapter 17

Part 18/26 | Ao3

[TW for graphic depictions of violence]

Tilly

The steady dripping was the first thing that Tilly focused on as her eyes cracked open in the dark. 

Dark. It was so dark. 

She blinked once, twice, and groaned at the pain in her head. She went to sit up, but she found she couldn’t, and the clanking of chains immediately alerted her as to why. It smelled like mildew and moss, something deep and earthen and cold and horrible. 

The dungeons, then.

The panic flashed through her just as quickly as the resignation as she remembered what had happened. She’d been so, so stupid, but gods, she had only been able to process the need to help Alanna. She’d been so foolish to open the door with the dogs barking and snarling the way they were. The tears tracked hotly down her cheeks, and she gave herself a moment to cry. She went to tug the bond, but she knew before she did that nothing would be there. 

The handkerchief had been covered in faebane, pressed tightly to her face so that she couldn’t fight back, couldn’t warn Eris away, which meant Beron likely knew everything. 

She forced herself to take deep breaths–the panic wouldn’t help her here. She turned her head to the side and took in the surroundings, dark as they were. Down beyond the bars of her cage, there was a lone torch in what appeared to be a hallway. She could see the faintest outline in light of a door that appeared to be made of heavy iron. She was sure it was locked. She didn’t try calling out; she could tell in the low light that the other few cells filled with open chains and tables were empty. She allowed herself a sob, quiet in the air, as she tried to get her bearings. 

It’s okay. You’re okay. 

Eris had told her about the dungeons of Autumn–two levels, one high one for the basic prisoners to be held, questioned, and perhaps tolerated for a month or two. Then, there was the lower level that could only be accessed through that first one. It was reserved for one purpose only: torture. People didn’t leave that dungeon once they entered. From the fact that there was just the singular heavy door within sight, she gathered she’d been placed alone in that second level. She fought hard against the terror and hysteria clawing its ugly way up her throat at the thought. She was caught between hoping Eris would know something was wrong and come back to save her, and simultaneously hoping he’d stay far away from here. If she’d been found out, then so had he. 

She jumped and the chains rattled around her wrists as the distant sound of male screams came through the heavy door. Her blood chilled, and she wondered if perhaps they had already caught Eris, too. The thought turned her stomach, and she strained to hear, but when the scream came again she could tell it wasn’t him. She was not one to rejoice at the pain of others, but she could have danced for joy at the fact that Eris might still have a chance. Plus, something told her that if they had caught Eris too, they’d make sure she knew. 

She grasped that bit of hope and took deep, grounding breaths. She let her chest fill with the air, counted to seven, then released it slowly. She calmed herself enough to think rationally through it, shoving the hysteria and desperation down deep and locking it tightly away. There was no good outcome for her here. The brothers cared for her, but would they even notice her missing in time? She was sure Eris had told them that he’d instructed her to lie low while he was gone. Would it be too late? Alanna might notice, but what could she do? This brought up another point that was bothering her–had Aradnus remained behind with Beron gone? Was Aradnus on orders from Beron? Had it all just been a ploy to get Eris out of the Forest House?

She didn’t have to wonder long, and the terror grabbed her anew as the door groaned open and footsteps came towards her. She closed her eyes, evening her breathing, and hoping if they thought her asleep then they may leave again. It was another foolish idea, and she choked and gagged and sputtered as a bucket of cold water was thrown roughly over her face. As she blinked the water from her eyes, she was greeted by Aradnus and Beron. 

So they’d been tricked. 

The smile on Aradnus’ face told her all she needed to know about her chances here. 

“Matilda, so good to see you.” Beron smiled at her like a predator surveying prey. She refused to speak, clamping her lips shut and not breaking eye contact with him. “That’s fine. You’ll be talking soon enough. You know, it’s so interesting what glamours can hide.” His smile had turned grotesque. “You’d never know who could be hiding a mating bond,” he leaned in close, “or a child.” Any remaining hope rushed out of her at the reminder. 

He knew. He knew about both, and now he was going to use it to his advantage. She would die in this cellar, and so would their child. 

“Did you know someone tried to hire a Night Court assassin to kill me? The lovely dryad dinner guest we had the other night–have you ever met a dryad before, Matilda?” The nausea churned within her. He did know; of course he knew. “Now, tell me, darling. What could a Night Court assassin possibly gain from killing me?” She refused to speak–wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her fear. 

His eyes darkened, anger clouding them. “If you won’t talk willingly, my second has his ways.” She hated how she flinched as she heard Aradnus crack his knuckles. “You have one chance now, Matilda, to save yourself and my worthless son. Now tell me,” he put his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, “Have you and Eris been conspiring with the Night Court to kill me?” She schooled her expression to the most minute details, refusing to let a single thought slide through. She wouldn’t implicate Rhysand or his court or Eris in this, even if Beron was already certain. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, High Lord.” She spit out, venom coating each word. Let his anger rest on her, and perhaps Eris would be able to tell that something was wrong and have a chance to escape. The wrath in Beron’s eyes flared, and she felt sure he would hit her. He simply drew back. 

“It’s a shame, Matilda. You could have saved everyone so much difficulty.” 

She doubted it. Even if she’d spoken up, betrayed Eris and everyone else, she’d no doubt in her mind her fate was already sealed. 

“I’m not going to tell you a thing.” This time, Beron’s smile was unlike the others–self satisfied, smug, even. 

“Well, you’re right about that. I, tragically, must step away to attend to other things. Aradnus, however, has happily volunteered to watch over you for me. Isn’t that right?” She closed her eyes, understanding fully how this would end. She heard Beron begin walking back to the door. “It’s a shame, Matilda. I think I could have had great fun with you.” She gave him nothing but her silence, and he turned to Aradnus. 

“The guards have the order to ambush and detain Eris as soon as he returns. They’ll bring him here. Get a confession from her by whatever means necessary, then make him watch her die.” 

“With pleasure, my Lord.” She could hear the excitement in Aradnus as he spoke. 

“Have a fantastic time, Matilda.” And the door slammed shut behind him. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on her breaths. 

In, out, in, out, in–but she heard the clanking of metal on the table above her head and all thoughts went out of her mind. There was nothing but fear as Aradnus spoke next to her ear. 

“Let’s begin.” 

++++

The earth was swaying back and forth in front of her eyes. 

No, she was swaying. Tilly came to, the pain in her shoulders so sharp it had started to border on numbness. She knew her shoulders had dislocated long ago–she couldn’t even remember how long she’d been hanging at this point. 

Blessedly, she was alone. She had no idea how much time had passed since she’d been taken–there was no light this far below the earth, and the screams of her companions in suffering in the higher chamber happened too sporadically to glean any information on time passing. 

Aradnus had twice forced food and water down her throat, trying to keep her alive for more torture. Part of her hoped it had been days. Eris was only supposed to be gone for two or three, so if it had been more than that, perhaps he knew and was staying away. She was sure if he’d returned that she would know by now–Aradnus would have paraded him in to watch her suffer. 

She cleared her throat, trying to open her eyes to make sure she was, indeed, alone. Only one eye opened, the other still swollen entirely shut from the session they’d had earlier. Her jaw had been broken, too, but it seemed like she could move it enough that it had begun to heal. If she could just get the faebane out of her system, she could heal herself subtly and make this more bearable, but she was sure he’d been putting it in the water he forced down her throat. 

She sighed, trying to squeeze her fingers to get some circulation back into them, but it was no use. She’d been hanging there long enough that all the blood was long gone and they were entirely sensationless–probably for the best, as she was certain she didn’t have a single fingernail left. Aradnus had taken his time with those, savoring the screams he pulled from her for each one.

She ran her tongue over her cracked lips, tasting blood. She could feel her consciousness slipping again–she could only stay awake for a few moments at a time before her body began to shut down.  

Every so often, after it had been awhile since she’d ingested anything, she tried to feel desperately for the bond within her. She could feel it, see it, but it was as though it drifted off into nothing. She still took the time to try and push feelings and words and warnings down it, whether or not it had any impact. 

She thought she’d cried all the tears she could, but she felt more start to slide down her face, cutting tracks through all the blood and grime. She sniffed, getting a noseful of copper and the musty, damp smell of the dungeon, but her heart shattered to still smell the faintest citrus scent of their baby, still bravely holding on. 

I’m so, so sorry, little one. Your mother and father would have loved you so dearly. 

She let her head hang in the dark as she swung around, feet barely scraping the floor as she moved. She choked out a final sob as she let the blessed darkness take her under once more. 

++++

The water drowning her was becoming her typical wakeup call, but it was never any less terrible. At some point, he must have released her from the ceiling without her even waking, because she was strapped back into a chair, her shoulder screaming in pain. She hated the idea of his hands on her at all, but the thought of them on her while she was unconscious was an entirely different form of torture.

“Good morning, princess.” Aradnus sneered at her. His cruelty knew no bounds, and she’d learned over the past however long how much he truly enjoyed hurting others. He gleaned true joy from drawing blood, from hearing screams of anguish. More than once, she’d caught him palming himself through his pants and wished she hadn’t. Most of the time, she refused to speak at all other than the screams and shrieks of pain he drew out of her when she couldn’t stand it anymore. Deep in the throes of it, she reminded herself of what Eris had told her that day in the stream. 

I just blocked it out. I found a place so deep inside me that nothing he did would ever reach it. I held that tiny little bit of myself close, and I told myself that enduring it would all be worth it someday, somehow.

And it would be. She would hold on, burrow deep down within herself, and she would not crumble. She would hold out as long as her body allowed; she would buy Eris time, the very last gift she could give him. 

She’d refused to give up any additional information about Eris, or the Night Court, or herself, choosing to firmly answer with either silence or “I have no idea what you mean.” Even Aradnus, for all his joy in pain, was beginning to become agitated, and she could tell. She wondered if he’d be punished by Beron if he returned and Aradnus had nothing for him. In her half-lucid state, she grinned maniacally at the idea that he thought she’d be easy to break, and that now he was failing. 

He hounded her repeatedly about the brothers, searching desperately for information. Tilly was surprised to find that they had a suspicion about Killian’s family, but she used that surprise to sell that she knew nothing about it, about any of them. He was relentless, asking again and again about everything, but she refused to break. She’d accepted she wouldn’t be leaving these dungeons–that she’d never see the sky or feel the sun on her skin or get lost in those bright amber eyes again–but she would not be taking anyone with her. Every session would reach a breaking point where she’d either pass out, or Aradnus would become so enraged that he’d lose control and push too far, leaving her useless anyway. 

Presently, Aradnus was turned to the table, but she could see him rifling through long, slim knives. She clenched her eyes shut again, but found she was beginning to lose the ability to feel terror, pain, much of anything. She wouldn’t last long this time; they’d be done soon. 

All this past year in Autumn, and this was where it would end. 

She tried to focus her thoughts back to the very beginning, sitting in that room before she’d even seen Eris. She’d been so resigned, so nervous, so unsure, and then she’d been gifted the most precious love of her life. She knew with certainty, even if it ended here, that she’d do it all again to have that time with him. She hoped he would be okay, regardless of what happened to her. She would die here in this dungeon, but if he managed to stay away, he could still live centuries more. 

She thought of his eyes, so curious and filled with joy when he beheld her, or the way they took in all of her as they touched. She thought of his scarlet curls, falling over his forehead as he focused on his book, or while they kissed. She thought of how she liked to tuck them back behind his arched ears, earning that stunning smile of his while they laughed about something. Eris would be okay, as long as he never returned here. He would never be the same, but he would be okay. 

Aradnus had been given strict orders to wait for Eris to return, but he couldn’t put it off forever, and mistakes happened. Perhaps Eris would feel the bond break when she died and know for certain to stay away, or perhaps seek asylum within Night as they’d planned to do with her. At this point, there was no chance he didn’t at least suspect something had happened. That final severing of the bond might be the push he needed to run and not return. She hoped beyond reason that when he’d felt the bond go dark, he’d known something was wrong and gone far away already. 

Aradnus turned to face her with a paring knife, a smile already plastered on his horrible face. Tilly tried her hardest to force the words down the bond. 

Don’t come back, don't come back, I love you, don't come back. 

++++

Aradnus was back again, and Tilly had nothing left to hang on to. Her eyes would hardly open at all; she couldn’t lift her head. She was certain one of her legs was broken, if not both. He ran a finger up her arm, but she didn’t even have the energy to shudder at the touch anymore. Half the time, she was no one at all, floating in a timeless, spaceless chasm of nothing where she was blissfully ignorant of everything. When she was lucid, it was barely so–holding on just long enough to feel short blasts of pain and groaning before she’d be swept back into oblivion. 

“It seems we may be on our last day, sweet one. I don’t think there’s much fight left in you, and your mate is running behind.” She groaned, but it felt far away. Everything felt far away. “I must admit, you’ve held out far longer than anyone imagined you would. I’d thought you might have given up outright, but you fooled us all.” 

She couldn’t even wet her lips to respond, the darkness already drawing her back under. Eris was late–Aradnus had betrayed that fact with his words, and the information clanged through her fog with great clarity. It had been long enough, and that meant he knew to stay away. He’d been smart, and though she was sure it had killed him, he had stayed away. 

“I think we’ll play with some fire today, what do you think? One big finale, hmm?” She could feel him snapping the fitted braziers on her hands and forearms, could vaguely feel them warming. She didn’t care–it didn’t matter. 

Eris was safe. 

There was nothing left for her to do, and she was ready to let go. She wondered if, on the other side, her mother and father and child might be there waiting for her arrival. She wished to see the sky and sun and clouds again, even if it was in death. Longed to hear her mother’s voice, feel her father’s embrace, run her fingers through the bright red curls of the child she’d never even had the chance to meet. 

She could feel the skin blistering as the darkness crept in. With a final sigh, she could already feel her heart slowing. 

Then the iron door blasted entirely off its hinges and into the bars of the adjoining cell. She let her head fall to the side so she could take in the figure wreathed in flames standing in the doorway. 

Beron must have come back to finish the job. 

She laughed, a hysterical thing, tasting blood between her teeth. She wished she could tell Aradnus that he was going to get in trouble for taking so long and still getting nothing from her, but she couldn’t form a sentence. She could only laugh, the unhinged sound cracking out of her, hoarse and horrible. 

The figure stalked forward, and Aradnus backed up. She hoped Beron killed him, too. But then her eyes focused, and Aradnus’ fear made sense. It wasn’t Beron at the doors; it was Eris. Eris, absolutely consumed with flame and furious as he walked forward to a stumbling Aradnus. 

“Eris, I–” It was all he got out before Eris reached him, grabbed his throat in a single flaming hand, and ripped it from his body. Tilly thought she might still be laughing, but it turned to a hollow cough immediately, rattling through her lungs and causing the blood to surge in her mouth and out from the corner. She began to drift again, trying to hang on to consciousness but reaching out to grasp nothing each time. 

“Tilly.” His voice swam in and out of her mind. She tried to say his name, but maybe it was only in her mind. He was moving her body, shuffling her around. She could hear the massive chains clanking, and she sighed as she heard a key locking into them. “Tilly, fuck. Gods, hold on. Hold on.” She felt the locks clicking, and the shackles falling off her wrists, then her ankles after. She lurched upwards, back arching, as the magic rushed through her. 

Faebane shackles. 

How had she missed that? She’d assumed it had been in her water. 

The familiar magic thrummed in her veins from head to toe, rushing to heal what was broken, but as it worked she could feel everything. She screamed as her bones knit themselves back together, her body thrashing and bucking despite Eris’ gentle hands around her. 

“Tilly, I am so sorry.” She could tell he was crying, his voice hoarse and cracking as he held her to his chest, the agony finally calming enough for her to take a gasping breath. She looked up to him, still covered in flames, and her heart nearly broke at the sight of him, so disheveled and worried and relieved. She could feel the bond again, and that alone made her want to dissolve into great heaving sobs. She’d never realized how integral to her it had been until she hadn’t been able to feel it, to feel him. 

Without warning, he winnowed them straight from the dungeons to their rooms, her shock evident on her face. 

“How did you do that?” 

“I broke the wards. All of them.” He was pressing frantic kisses to her face and lips, holding her as though she might still slip away into the ether if he slackened his hold at all. The grief from his side of the bond was overwhelming, and Tilly was so exhausted all she could do was lean her head onto him and try to send waves of love and joy back. 

He carried her to the bathroom, setting her gently on the sink and pulling his hands back hesitantly to run the water. While it filled, he came right back, holding her close to him while he stripped off the tattered remnants of her nightgown, dirty and covered in blood and barely held together. 

“I thought I lost you, Matilda. I thought you died. I haven’t felt the bond in days. It’s been days…” His voice was barely above a croaking whisper. She had no energy to respond, but she wrapped her arms around him and clasped her fingers so they would stay around him. “I’d finished at Dawn and gone to Day to discuss everything with Helion and the bond went silent. He begged me to stay, in case it meant Autumn was under siege, or that you might be trying to protect me. He all but locked me in the palace.” 

Tilly could feel the guilt pouring from Eris’ side of the bond, his shame for not coming sooner. “He was right, Eris.” She spoke, barely audible. She’d hardly used her voice for anything but screaming these past few days. “I was trying to reach the bond, trying so hard to tell you not to come back. He was going to kill you. Make you watch me die then kill you too. He knew we were working with Night. They tried to get me to admit it for days. I swear I didn’t talk. I didn’t tell them anything.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. She sighed. “You’re really here.” 

Eris was crying, pressing her against him with such force it took the breath from her. “I am so sorry I left, Tilly. I am so sorry I left you with them. I’m so sorry I didn’t come right back. How will you ever forgive me?” 

“There is nothing to forgive, Eris. You’re here. We’re here.” She paused, her hands pushing back frantically. “The baby. Is the baby–” His hands were on her in a heartbeat. 

“The baby is fine. I can smell them–I can feel their magic. We’ll bring the healers up after we take a bath for peace of mind.” She nodded, the relief buoying her, and Eris picked her up and brought her to the warm tub, slipping in behind her fully clothed. He let her rest on his chest while he washed her body gently with a cloth and she faded in and out of sleep, let the water drain, then fill again. He washed her hair out, running his fingers through it slowly while her steady breath puffed against him. When he had cleaned every last mark from her skin, he just held her, let her float in the water against him, reassured them both that they were here and safe, and Beron was–

“What happened to Beron?” She murmured against his chest. 

“When I was in Day, we received an emergent missive from Night that Spring was under attack. Beron was stupid enough to take a portion of Autumn’s army and attack, and he was killed.” She summoned all of her strength to push up onto him. 

“He’s dead?”

“He’s dead. The magic hit me in the woods when I winnowed back here.” Her face crumpled and the relief hit him so strongly in the chest he lost his breath. Her chest heaved against his with full-body sobs wracking her and he brushed her hair back. “He can never hurt us again, Til. He’s never coming back.” 

“Is your mother okay?” 

“Yes, she’s in Day with Helion.” She sighed in relief against him. 

“That’s how they got me, you know. Aradnus used a magic trick. He had her voice somehow begging for help, so I opened the doors. So incredibly foolish.” She felt the rage roar down the bond, twined in with his affection for her. 

“Aradnus will never do anything to anyone ever again.” 

“My hero.” She sighed against him, and he laughed mirthlessly. “So, does that mean you’re High Lord now?”

“Yes. And you’re High Lady.”

“Oh, no. Not yet.” Eris pulled back to look down at her, and she lifted her eyes to his. “What?”

“Do you not…you don’t–” She lowered her head, pressing another kiss to his collarbone. 

“Autumn won’t accept a High Lady yet. There will be people who want things to remain how Beron kept them, especially amongst the nobles. You forget that’s where I spent most of my life. I need to earn it first, and you need to weed out the dissenters in the meantime.” She closed her eyes, nuzzling closer to him. “You’ll do the right things, make the right changes. They’ll accept me when I’ve earned it. I’m in no hurry.” 

She yawned, the last of her energy entirely gone now that she had made sure everyone was okay. So she let herself drift, both on her mate in the warm tub and out of consciousness. 

Eris

Tilly was fast asleep and surrounded by dogs and pillows, her face a road map of dark bruises that hadn’t healed. Eris clenched his fist, the flames shooting out from him despite the control he was trying to wield over them and this new power. Willa, the head healer, had come by and checked to make sure Tilly was healing okay. The bones in her legs, ribs, and shoulders had mended, as well as the burns on her hands and arms. She’d administered a heavy sleep tonic before leaving, ensuring that Tilly would be able to rest through the recovery. She checked, then double and triple checked that the baby was okay, while Eris hovered and paced nervously like a frantic mother hen. Once Willa had assured them that everything was more than fine, on track, and healing normally, Eris finally allowed her to leave. 

But now, watching from a chair beside the bed as his mate slept, those horrid bruises discoloring her perfect face, the cuts marring her lips and eyebrows and arched ears, the rage boiled his blood. How hard Aradnus must have hit her, repeatedly, to have those bruises still be so deeply purple. The flames crawled up his arms again and he had to physically shake them off. He should really sleep–it had been literal days since he had–but he couldn’t calm down, couldn’t slow his racing heart at the thought of leaving her unprotected again for even a moment. 

When he’d been leaving Dawn, the bond had gone quiet as he’d winnowed away to Day. He thought, at first, it might be the distance making it fade. But within a few hours, something began to feel well and truly wrong. He would catch the smallest flutters of fear and panic that he knew were not his own, and by the time he was in to meet with Helion, he was in a full-blown hysteria. 

Helion had implored him to stay, to be calm. There were many different reasons that the bond might be muted, especially since it wasn’t severed. Helion had said Eris would know if Tilly had died, but it didn’t make the not knowing any more bearable. 

Helion had contacted Rhysand, as well as sending spies deep into Autumn to find word of any disturbances in the normal routine of the Forest House. He’d all but locked Eris into the palace, trying to calm him and keep him from committing war crimes or getting himself killed by rushing back home. He’d felt like a rabid animal in a cage, pacing constantly, refusing to eat or sleep. Even Helion, who notoriously tolerated Eris at best, seemed worried for his health. 

“Eris, you must calm down. You’re running holes into the ground.” 

“How can you bear this, Helion? Aren’t you absolutely out of your mind for my mother’s safety? He might have killed her, too. You know that, right?” 

“He hasn’t killed your mother, Eris. She’s okay.” 

Eris exploded. “How could you possibly know that?” But Helion’s eyes had flashed dangerously. 

“Because she is my mate, Eris. I have been living with this pain for centuries, but it’s how I also know she is still alive. Scared, but alive.” Eris felt as though he’d been slapped. He’d suspected–for years he’d suspected–but hearing that Helion knew and had still chosen to stay away jarred him. He had chosen to let his mother suffer under Beron’s thumb. It was the breaking point for him, and he swung out at Helion. 

“How dare you?? You knew she was your mate and you let her ROT there?” His fists hit against Helion, and it took him a full minute to realize Helion had let him. He wasn’t even trying to fight him. “Fight me, you bastard. You left her!” But he wouldn’t, and Eris’ screaming turns to sobs, the horror over everything becoming too much.

“Eris…I love Alanna. More than anything in the universe. I always have, I always will. But she demanded I stay away. She wouldn’t risk her children’s safety. She made the choice. Wouldn’t you respect the choices that Matilda made, even if they ruined your own life?” The breath whooshed out of Eris with the last of his anger, and now all that was left was fear and exhaustion. 

Did Helion know? Did he know one of those sons she wouldn’t risk was his? He deserved to know. 

Eris hated that he had to find out this way. 

“Helion. Did you ever wonder why she stopped allowing you to see her after the last of my brothers was born? Ever wonder why you never saw her alone again?”

“She worried about your safety, her safety. I wasn’t yet a High Lord, and she worried he would start a full scale war for the slight. Or otherwise kill us all.” 

“Have you ever met Lucien?” Helion’s eyes shot to his, brows furrowed. 

“Alanna’s youngest son, former emissary to Spring. I saw him get his eye carved out Under the Mountain when he stood up to that bitch.” He huffed in amusement. “It seems he got Alanna’s heart and not your father’s.” Eris could have rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, he got much of my mother. And his father. Nothing of Beron.” Eris implored Helion with his eyes, begging him to understand. It only took a moment, and the way Helion’s face crumpled, the misery was so deep that it threatened to take Eris’ own heart from his chest. When Helion spoke, it was barely a whisper. 

“No.” 

“Yes. I helped her hide it, per her request, for centuries.” Helion was crying outright now, big heaving sobs from the hulking, unshakable man. It seemed Eris was not the only one who wore a mask, and he could, for just a moment, see the male who his mother loved so fiercely. Could see her match here in this gentle giant who so clearly loved her, who would rather suffer for eternity than go against her wishes. He could see so much of Lucien in him. 

“He is so good, Helion. Lucien is. He’s so thoroughly kind, and funny, and he has a good heart. He is someone you would want to know, someone anyone would be lucky to know. I have always been proud to be his brother, and I have never once deserved it.” 

“She kept him from me–”

“For everyone’s safety. Everyone’s.”

“Does Lucien know?”

“I have no idea, though I imagine he has his suspicions that Beron is not his father. To ask it aloud would be a death sentence for our mother.” Helion nodded, but his eyes grew hard. 

“Come, we’re going.” Eris was momentarily shocked, stumbling up to standing. 

“What? To Autumn?” Helion was already making for the doors.

“Yes. I’m getting her out of there, her requests and the consequences be damned. I’ll not let her suffer another moment under that tyrant. She can hate me the rest of our lives, but she’ll do it from somewhere safe.”

“What if he’s there?” Eris could barely get the words out as he got his bearings, tearing down the hall next to Helion, who was walking with impressive strides now. 

“Then I will kill him. I may not have been able to do anything then, but I am a High Lord now. I can invoke the Blood Duel, and I will kill him.” 

“If you fail, Helion, she’ll die. He won’t let her live over an embarrassment like this.” He stopped so short Eris almost slammed into him and Helion whirled around on him. 

“Then you swear to me, Eris. Swear you’ll get her out.” Eris nodded. 

“We’ll get them both out.” And understanding settled between them as they made their way to the armory, their minds made up. 

Then the missive had arrived. 

All at once, everything flew into motion. Eris and Helion only had the time to organize and immediately send any of his fighters who could winnow to Spring, and then to decide that Helion and Eris would still  go to the Forest House together. Eris would be there to find Tilly and get her to safety. Helion would immediately go to Alanna, bringing her back to the safety of Day. Eris had told Helion where he could find Alanna–all the places she might be starting with her rooms and the garden, and made sure Helion knew he’d be on his own once they arrived. 

But all their plans had changed again when, as soon as they touched ground at the Forest House, Eris had immediately been engulfed with flames so hot they burned blue. He fell to his knees as the power overcame him. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt, and by the time it abated, he knew Beron had died. He didn’t miss a beat as he shattered the wards on the Forest House on instinct, sprinting into their rooms, finding them long-empty, her smell almost non-existent. 

He ran madly through the abandoned halls, hoping to at least find his mother or a brother or Cormac to tell him what had happened, but no one was there. He tried reaching desperately for the bond, but it lay so limp, worse than it had been at any time in the last few days, despite his proximity. Wherever Tilly was, she was running out of time. He knew it deep within himself, and the terror shot up like nausea into his throat. He knew he needed to check the dungeons, though he hated the thought more than anything else. It seemed the guards had mostly abandoned their posts; the news must have traveled already. As he reached the doors to the unmanned dungeons, he burst through them and was shocked to find, again, no guards, and all his brothers and Cormac in the cells. 

“What the fuck happened?” Eris demanded, as he ripped the keys from the hooks and unlocked the doors. 

“Ambush. You’re on fire.” Cormac wheezed. They looked horrible, all beaten to a pulp, the faebane shackles keeping them from healing. Killian appeared to have taken it the worst, but was the first to stand, to get to the walls and lean heavily against them. 

“Eris, they have Tilly.” He barely croaked the words out. “We could hear her screaming.” 

Was he…he was crying? 

And then, the worst possible truth dawned on Eris, and he put together the only option in which they might have heard her screaming. “He’s in there with her now.” 

The horror overtook him, and so did the flames, and all the brothers jerked back as he lit up and sprinted to the heavy door to the lower dungeons, nearly ripping it off the hinges as he stormed in. 

Eris could barely remember the horrors that he felt as he slung the door open. Seeing Aradnus crouching over her broken body, the fire consuming her skin and her not even fighting back anymore. He’d been absolutely consumed with rage, not even feeling himself anymore as he’d ripped out a male's throat with his bare hand without another thought. 

The memory nearly suffocated him now, sitting beside her, safe, breathing, alive. He prodded the dogs to the bottom of the bed gently, climbing in behind her, needing her close. He folded himself against her, curving along every inch of her body, holding her close like he may never get to again. He’d need to go to Spring to deal with the Autumn troops there in two days' time, but he’d need to winnow briefly tomorrow morning to touch base with Tamlin and Rhysand. He didn’t want to leave her again–not now, not ever. 

He tucked his hand around Tilly’s stomach while she slept. Willa had estimated her to be about three months along, so she wasn’t showing yet, but he could feel the little magic within her, and could differentiate it from the feel of hers. Their baby, already a survivor in their own right. Willa had spoken to him privately after she’d given Tilly the tonic; it was a miracle in itself that the baby had survived. Tilly had suffered massive and repeated internal damage, and the fact that the baby had made it implied a strong magical presence. Eris had never been so thankful for Autumn’s stupid emphasis on breeding strong bloodlines. It had given him Tilly, given him their child, and allowed him to keep both. 

She’d been ready to die for him–the thought made him burn with panic, even feeling her here in his arms, her heartbeat strong and steady against him. She’d been ready to sacrifice herself to make sure that he lived. He had never had that sort of love or devotion from anyone in his life, and he didn’t know what to do with all of it–all that it made him feel. He wasn’t entirely sure he was worth it. 

He hated to leave her even for an hour tomorrow, but knew she’d be well protected. He’d spent time this evening reconstructing all the wards he’d so violently broken when he’d arrived looking for her. He’d meticulously respun them, and would ask Helion to come follow up on them when he checked in on his mother. He hoped that long-overdue conversation had gone well. His brothers would keep an eye on Tilly for him in the meantime. The second they’d been healed, they were out of their minds with worry, swarming the hallway in front of Tilly and Eris’ room like a gaggle of gossiping females. Eris was thrilled that they cared, that they wanted to protect her, but he was himself feeling a bit territorial in the wake of things. 

The brothers had immediately sworn fealty, none of them caring at all about the crown and simply relieved to be alive and rid of Beron. They’d told him, sorrow in their eyes, how they’d heard Tilly being tortured for days. How they tried to taunt Aradnus so he’d direct his rage and sadism at them instead. How she’d held on longer than any of them had imagined she could. How she’d never once told them a thing, and how Aradnus left every day angrier and more agitated as he stalked through the upper levels. Killian, of all of them, began to cry. 

The brothers had heard everything in the cell, but Eris hadn’t. 

“He kept asking her about my family. My mate, and my daughter.” Eris couldn’t keep the sharp exhale from passing his lips. He felt like he’d been punched in the chest. 

Killian had a family, a mate. And Tilly had known the whole time. She’d protected his family’s secrets at the cost of her safety. 

“She could have sold me out–she could have gotten a reprieve, but she said nothing. I will never be able to repay her, Eris. Not in a million lifetimes.” He put his hand on Eris’ arm. 

Eris was so proud and so filled with anger that he couldn’t even articulate his thoughts, he’d just begun sobbing, big ugly gasps for air that burst from him as his face crumpled. He lifted his arm to cover it, not used to allowing any real emotion to show out openly. In perhaps their first ever public display of affection, the brothers all came in to embrace Eris. 

He hoped, going forward, this might be the norm for them. He didn’t want the tension that they’d lived under for their entire lives to have any influence on their future. But, right now, if they came to his door one more time to check on her before morning, he might set one of them on fire. They were watching over the court currently, preventing anyone from getting ideas about an early coup, and he hoped he might be able to take in a few more hours of silence. 

He blew out the candle by the bed, pulling himself close to Tilly once more. He pressed a single kiss to the back of her neck, breathing her in, and reassured himself again and again that she was safe.

Taglist (lomls): @cauldronblssd @queercontrarian @byyalady @thelovelymadone @clockwork-ashes @lovingkelj @lilah-asteria

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #vanserra brothers #flame of autumn #arranged marriage #allies to lovers #eris vanserra x oc #acotar smut #Eris smut

[forgedraptor]

hanahaki au p6

Penguin is looking at him weirdly again. That little scrunch between his eyes and frown means the man is thinking in overdrive

Its been a couple of weeks since Law spat out his first petal, ever since hes been using a mask to cover his face, luckily it didint garner any suspicion because of his work as a doctor, but the coughing surely did

its like a tickle at the back of his throat that he just cant itch, Law knows theres some left over petals down there that cant seem to get out enough fr a free windpipe but damn, sometimes he wishes he could do surgery on himself to take some of it off because its so damn annoying

alas he cant magically conjure up an operating room to do it, so he'll stick to massaging his throat and drinking dry-cough syrup to try easing the pain

does that even work? will it even help his agitated throat or just leave the flowers stuck down there covered in medicine? law does not know nor does he have enough energy to care

but more than that, his friends are starting to worry, well, worry more than usual. Bepo is trying to convince him to go to a doctor, even though technically, they are doctors too, just in a different field. Sachi has been bringing soothing teas and drinks that hes been forcing Law to drink. His favorite seems to be lemon and honey this week. Law cant lie, it does help even if its a short time

Meanwhile Penguin, that annoying perceptive asshole, has been staring at him for the past 20min and not saying a word and Law has a dreaded feeling that the man is connecting outrageous but also accurate thoughts about Laws symptoms

Maybe its because the three were there when Law finally stopped denying himself for having a crush on Luffy (which may or may not be because the three had pointed out all the facts, with a PowerPoint presentation and pictures to showcase his infatuation with the strawhat wearing boy with the last slide saying: 'you deserve to love and be loved idiot!!' in all caps which yes, may have left the four of them in a pile of limbs, hugging and crying at night and waking up to work the next day with red rimmed eyes and smiles, or in Laws case, a smirk)

But yes, it seems that Penguin has been connecting the dots, and as crazy as it may seem hes always been good at giving the most craziest suggestions and ideas that could either be the right deductions or close enough for them to diagnose the right symptoms or solutions they need to help a pateint.

like law said, perceptive asshole.

so its not too far in the realm of reality for Penguin to realize something is wrong, and not in the usual 'you need to eat and sleep more' way but something deeper, and thus the reason why his thinking face is currently on the tired cardiac surgeon and annoying the fuck out of him

But Law isint going to say anything, Penguin can glare all he wants but he is not saying a word. fuck that. and fuck Penguin.

but the world has a funny way to mess up his plans every single time because the moment he tries to stand up and leave, his chest gives a painful clench and a sudden pulsating, stabbing pain overwhelms laws everything.

stumbling, he grabs the closes surface he can find which is luckily part of the table, but which is unluckily, full of books, papers, coffee cups and other shit they were to lazy to clean up, and it all crashes unto the floor, as law wheezes for the breath that he cant seem to get from his lungs. fuck why did it suddenly get so fucking painful??

someone is grabbing him, shit is the world titling? he cant breathe. he needs to breathe. something is stuck in his throat. he needs to fucking breathe. law suddenly feels a pair of hands around his chest and a sudden painful squeeze. A wave of nausea hits him as something forcibly gets spat out of his mouth and unto his mask

its only a few minutes later when the black splotches in his eyesight disappears that law realizes hed fallen over and is now slumped on the ground, with Bepo next to him holding his hand and breathing deeply, trying to make law instinctually copy him, with Sachi holding a pulse ox and is that an oxgyen tank? and Penguin is holding his mask and shirt open- fuck. wait. his mask. fuck. the petals.

"law. youve got a lot of explaining to do, you fucker."

Bepo is silently crying, Sachi's hand that is still holding and oxygen tank which is, what the fuck?? is shaking, and Penguin isnint even shouting as he hissed those words.

he sounds like a person who finally figured out a puzzle piece that was missing but then the finished image is something you hate, so you seethe and burn in anger and frustration and oh fuck.

law is so dead.

#happy belated birthday penguinnn heres my gift la angst uwu #lawlu #lulaw #hanahaki au #fr fics #trafalgar d water law #monkey d luffy

[sillyromance]

I feel you heart pounding heavily against your ribs as you lie in my arms, looking me right in the eyes. My stomach rumbles beside you, politely announcing of its emptiness, but don't get tricked. It's almost painful, evil sensation which clenched my insides firmly like vice, turning them inside out while they are struggling with hunger. However, I just smile. You're here not to satisfy me, but yourself. You're small, and sad, and scared. That's OK. There is no shame in that...

I bring you up closer to my face - your skin gets pale as instinctive fear kicks in your veins. I don't hurry; your tiny palms run over my cheeks and lips; I force back the wish to taste your adorable little fingers - they have such a good smell... I ask if you still want me to send you there. After a moment, you nod, still worried but sure about your decision. I smile gently and rub your head in attempt to comfort you, although I know it's not enough. I'm a switch after all; no need to tell me how hard it is to go through this for the first time.

Finally, I open my mouth wide and lift you up to put your feet right on my awaiting tongue. The flavour is... Beautiful; I can't help but exhale with pleasure savouring your skinny, cool ankles. Meanwhile, you're trembling. God, I feel so pity for you! My mind is spinning of misunderstanding, trying to process this controversial information of joy and grief combined together. Regardless, it doesn't take long for me to focus. I lock my attentive gaze on your figure; icy sweat covers your hot, pulsing neck, you're staring down at me with mix of doubt and terror. However, you don't ask me to stop. I play with your legs a little bit more, giving you a chance to get used to the situation, then go for the next level, pushing you in just slightly and making you knees disappear in my maw. You gasp as my teeth accidentally touch your vulnerable skin; I rapidly part them to ease the tension. Your toes wiggle in my pharynx, I have to grant you a pleading look to say it disturbs me, so you hold still. I feel bad for making barriers everywhere for you; I'm aware of horror growing in your chest with every passing moment, but it will be better for both of us if you don't squirm. I promise, I won't hurt you. It'll be over soon.

Well, the point of no return is near. I push you just a bit deeper, like this... Yeah. Now I can catch your limbs with my throat muscles. My grip weakens; I swallow. You faintly shriek. I fondle your back, relaxing your body which has suddenly become hard and solid like a rock, being paralysed with shock. I wait; after some seconds your powerless hand pat on my upper lip, permitting me to continue. Oh, you can't imagine how difficult it is to breathe in this position, to hold my instincts sleeping while even so miserable part of you has been already embraced by my throat... No. Don't think about it. It's fine. I swallow once more, your hips and belly entering my esophagus. My neck pleasantly stretches; my mouth shamelessly waters as I get more of your spicy taste, invisible molecules bursting soundlessly on the surface of my craving tongue. You sense this and shiver, your poor clothes getting instantly soaked in my sticky saliva. But I won't make you uncomfortable for long; glancing at your pretty muzzle one last time, I title my head back and let you simply slide inside, contracting my throat again, tracing you slowly passing every centimetre of it: down, down, down...

At last, I can gift my chest with fresh air. You slipped inside so smoothly that it startles me...

My waist is heavy; cute little lumps are walking around underneath my clothes. You're in my stomach now.

The organ whines with pleasure as abundant meal comes in. You are moving around, trying to find a suitable position in the limited space. I sigh, forgetting about the pangs of starvation at last - the fact I haven't eaten since morning to do this to you is nothing comparing to the heavenly sensation of you being inside my core. Now I'm shaking too. It's impossible to stay straight; I lie down cautiously, putting my hands on the expanded middle, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

You. Are. In. There.

I devoured an alive person. It's so good that it hurts...

You are still nervous; I murmur kind, calming words and caress you within my full belly gurgling gladly at your presence. It's safe within me. I won't digest you. Just look around and see that there is no acid to burn you. You won't get suffocated 'cause you're breathing with me. I won't jostle you with harsh movements. I won't laugh at your helplessness. I'm here to hold you, to listen to your cries, to fight your demons with you side by side.

It's so good that you hear me and settle in. Your warm weight feels unreal and... Perfect. I don't let my arms go away from my abdomen, making them cover the bulge you have created as if I have committed a crime which I should hide now.

You don't need to feel anxious anymore. I have you.

I love you.

#soft vore #extreme cuddling #safe vore #willing pred #reluctant prey #comfort vore #first time vore #vore switch #willing prey

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

OOO I'm very excited to share this chapter! We're getting close to the finish line!

Its name is "The Song of Us"

Page 54 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 15:

The Blind man asks his companion, before dawn break, What do you believe, is a beast’s fate, Once death seizes its life, in his inevitable grasp? The beast, his heart knowing of the fallen knight’s pleas, Of men they lost, who were left to be but a worm’s dark feast, Answers, death reaches for monsters all the same as men, For the unjust, for the cruel, For the kind, for the forgiving, All bones become one, until they become none, As death is the only being, to see all as one and the same.

This city is quiet, in the way a drowning is. Something wicked is happening under the surface, hidden from plain sight. If only its victim had air to scream.

The Hunter has intel beyond the SAS’s scope, beyond Laswell’s. Informants, comms. A man pronounced to all as dead. How is it possible, they were written off as a non-threat before?

Soap grits his teeth, tapping the lit end of his cigarette on a wall. Simon started moving a few minutes ago, the poison once again retreating. By the haunted look in his brown eyes, John could tell they both know he’s running out of time.

Price has been arguing with Laswell while helping Simon. Something about the fact the Hunter seemingly didn’t exist a year prior, on paper. Appeared out of nowhere one day with an army behind them, ready to burrow into intelligence networks in a way even Makarov couldn’t.

Makarov’s name came up a lot in that conversation. Enough that Soap had to take a smoke.

Anger thrums through his veins. Begging for blood. The same incessant screaming that drove him to choke the life out of Makarov, the same fire that kept him going through this personal slice of hell.

Maybe he’s an idiot, for wanting to kill the Hunter, for believing it will change anything.

The cigarette’s flame licks his fingers.

Soap crushes it against the wall. He turns around, watching Simon and the Captain. Far enough to not hear them, but they seem to need a bit of privacy anyway. Soap can’t say he’s ever seen Price that emotional, in their short meetings.

He asks himself where Gaz is when the Lieutenant approaches him.

“Price is bloody livid, isn’t he?” Gaz huffs.

Soap hums. His eyes move from the Captain to Simon, his mask still on the ground besides him.

Kyle follows his stare, “did you know Ghost’s identity, when I found you two?”

“No”, the white skull almost glows in the moonlight, “I only found out when… the communicator tried to use it against him.”

He can feel Gaz scan his features, “and you still decided to work with him.”

Soap doesn’t answer. Simon and Price are hugging now, the movement uncoordinated to Ghost. He doesn’t know how he can tell.

He turns to face Gaz, “I swore we will finish this together. I don’t go back on my word.”

“We both know this goes beyond that, Soap.” Gaz gives him a half smile, “the way you look at him… Haven’t seen you like that with anyone else.”

Soap frowns, scoffing, “don’t know what yer-”

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” Gaz asks, almost gently.

…Feelings?

…..Could he?

“I…”

“Don’t lie to yourself.” Gaz murmurs, “in all the years I’ve known you, you didn’t act like this. Going against everyone you know, jumping in front of him when Price starts threatening him, letting him rest his bloody head on your legs- c’mon Soap, you’re fucking smitten with the man-”

“Kyle.” Soap stops him, head hanging down to hide the embarrassment painting his cheeks red. He scrubs a weary hand over his features, looking up at his friend between his fingers.

Gaz’s eyes soften. Soap sighs, “I- this is not the time for that kind of shite. We need to fuckin’ dust the Hunter, and then-”

And then what?

Soap lowers his hand, stare unconsciously drifting towards Simon. Since when have his eyes started doing that?

It hasn’t been more than a month since he arrived to this godforsaken city. How is it that John can’t imagine being alone again?

Or… how can’t he imagine an ‘after’ without Simon?

“I won’t lie to you.” Kyle starts, his tone gentler, “I still don’t fully trust Ghost. Even if he is… Simon Riley.” the Lieutenant places a hand on his shoulder, “but I can tell what you truly want, even if you think it’s not feasible.”

“That’s because it isn’t-”

“Bullshit.” Gaz turns John around to face him, “look, we are not good men. We’ve been operating outside the law for… for as long as I can remember. What we do, the way we dirty our hands...”

Kyle lets out a shaky exhale, squeezing his shoulder, “what I’m saying is, we can make people disappear. And if you… if you want that, I can help. I’m sure Price will too-”

“Yer out of yer mind-”

“Are you going to go back to Scotland, mate?” Gaz’s voice sharpens on desperation, “are you gonna go back to feeling like you have nothing to live for? Can you really leave this life, leave Ghost, behind?” He almost whispers the end, “be honest.”

How could he go back? No apartment, endless job search, a buzz under his skin that cannot be scrubbed off, disappointment to his family, emptiness, emptiness, emptiness-

“What else can Ah do?!” Soap tenses under Gaz’s hand.

That hand keeps him steady all the same, “whatever you want, John.” Kyle smiles sadly, “me and Price don’t have that freedom, but you two? You don’t have stuffy generals breathing down your neck.”

“I don’t-” Soap cuts himself off, thoughts whirling faster in his mind. He gets reminded of what his therapist used to say about him, back when he was just discharged.

“You fixate on danger, John. To the point of obsession. You don’t know when to let go, if you believe you can make things right.”

“Even if the cost is more than you should be willing to pay.”

“Just… think about it. Besides…” Gaz looks away, expression darkening, “I have a feeling the 141 might need people like you in the future.”

Soap brows furrow, “dishonorably discharged adrenaline addicts?”

Kyle chuckles, “no”, his hands tighten on Soap’s shirt, “people we can trust. People who are willing to do what’s right, even if they know they shouldn’t. Even if they don’t act the way the higher ups would want them.”

His brown eyes turn to look at John, determination he first saw on bootcamp only growing stronger, “people like you.”

Soap goes through another cigarette with Gaz by the time Price and Simon return to them. Both of their eyes shine with tears.

“Laswell did some digging.” Price grunts, “wasn’t easy, finding intel on the Hunter. They know their way around our networks, clearly.” his stare flickers towards Simon, “this operation-”

“Mass murder” Soap corrects. Calling this an operation would spit on the dozens of innocent people left to rot here.

“Mass murder”, the Captain continues, “is very unusual for the Hunter’s soldiers. Almost… flashy.”

“The communicator admitted it was an attempt to frame me.” Simon rolls up the mask in his hands, slipping it on, “they needed to show the British Army I’m too dangerous to keep.”

“And they knew the SAS would send the 141 because of the informant.” Gaz huffs.

Price nods, “which they did succeed in, but it also exposed them to us.”

“The SAS wouldn’t have investigated it further if ye actually killed Ghost the first time around.” Soap grumbles, wincing a moment later when he remembered who he’s talking to.

The Captain takes it surprisingly seriously. “Correct. This is not the first time they hide behind a smaller, supposedly unconnected criminal.” he hangs his arms on his tacvest, commending voice booming in the empty streets, “the Hunter is now top priority for the 141, our orders are to eliminate them, along with any high ranking officers remaining within their army. This mission is classified to all but us and Laswell - anyone else will be treated as a potential collaborator of the Hunter.”

“What about Soap and Ghost, Captain?” Gaz asks.

Price sighs, “Ghost has escaped after releasing the civilian he captured as leverage. And John MacTavish?” a sly smile pushes his mustache up, ”he has never set foot in this city.”

Kate Laswell isn’t someone Soap knew well, back in his service. Has heard her name being dropped in a couple of debriefs, a few calls here and there regarding missions.

He becomes increasingly grateful she’s on their side, as she brings up more and more intel on the Hunter. Their main source of information is the informant Ghost killed - the man recognized several undercover soldiers moving supplies in and out of the city in the past few weeks. He knew something big was going to happen, but the SAS waved it off as a local gang.

On the day of his death, he managed to send in one last report. The informant knew his time was limited, that his cover was blown, so the message was painfully short.

‘Skull in warehouse, Konservy, game over’

It was not clear if who he referred to when he transmitted the name “Skull”, and at the time the comms officer asked the informant to repeat, thinking it was a mistyped “Ghost”. With what they know now, it’s highly likely he was actually talking about the Hunter, and their red skull insignia. Konservy is a name of a warehouse, two clicks out of the city, as Laswell quickly found out.

‘Game over’ is the agreed upon sign for caught spies.

Price and Gaz have brought out their maps, attempting to lock down the warehouse’s location. Soap and Ghost were gently shooed away after it became obvious they don’t have any more useful intel to provide.

“How’s your neck?” Ghost asks him, the two of them leaning against a crumbling wall.

Soap opens his mouth to answer, when gloved fingers brush over the bruised skin on his throat. “I uh…” he swallows, the hand following the movement, “I feel fine.”

Ghost hums, caressing the wound for a moment longer before pulling away. Soap wants to chase the touch.

He really is in over his head, isn’t he?

“Simon.” Soap looks up at the bright skull mask, “have you thought about… what are ye gonna do after?”

“...no.”

“...Would ye go back? To what you did before?”

Simon stares at him deeply, eyes closing, “I don’t think I can.” he looks back at Soap, “you? What did you do before?”

Soap chuckles bitterly, “ah, I was spendin’ my newly civvi life indulging in only the greatest of pleasures. Like sittin’ in an office for nine hours a day, or knittin’ a scarf on my therapist’s orders.”

Simon’s shoulders shake with a badly hidden laugh, “I’d like to see you knit.”

Soap grins, “oh I was a natural. It definitely didn’t have several holes by the time I was done.” 

“How did you get here, then?” Simon asks, mirth still creasing his eyes.

His smile drops, words dying on his tongue, “I uh…” that weeks-old shame starts creeping back in, “was about to be evicted. Got fired, bastards never liked me anyway. I jus’ took all of my money and… ran as far as I could.”

Simon hums, shoulder leaning in to nudge his. Soap thinks the conversation is over after a few moments of silence, the both of them mauling over the words, when Simon surprises him.

“Think I’d like that… running away.” he murmurs.

“Aye? Where would ye go?”

“Don’t know. Don’t think it matters.” Simon leans in closer, their foreheads almost touching, “as long as the company is good.”

Soap feels a shiver go down his spine, eyes wide as he tries to find the joke that must be in Simon’s.

But he looks so painfully sincere, even when he finally leans away, “too bad there’s none ‘ere. Might ask Laswell if she got any tips on finding partners in crime.”

Soap lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “think they make dating apps for fuckers like ye?”

“Doubt I’ll find anyone as mental as you on Tinder, Johnny.” Simon deadpans.

“That’s because yer looking in the wrong place - Christian Mingle is where the real crazy bastards are.”

Simon can’t hold in his laugh this time, and for the first time Soap hears the way he snorts a little when his giggles become uncontrollable. It’s a horribly endearing sound, one that he wants to hear for every day for the rest of his life.

It makes his heart hurt, heavy, sinking in his chest like a death sentence.

Gaz was right.

He’s in love with Simon Riley.

Gaz went back to get the vehicle he and Price infiled with. It had a laptop, a few maps, and the most wonderful MREs Soap ever had. He never thought he’d miss that shite, but after running on a handful of oranges and a possibly moldy sandwich, they tasted like heaven on earth.

As he and Ghost had their meal (Simon’s eyes sparkled in a way that told Soap he was clearly as delighted with the food as he was), the 141 finalized their plan with Laswell. Soap could see them arguing about something, but he was far too preoccupied with eating to care at the moment.

Ghost, however, did care, “need anything, Price?”

The Captain snaps his head up, taking off his hat and scratching at his hair, “we have an angle to breach, but…”

Gaz joins in, “We don’t have intel on how many guards are posted, their location… mission will be doomed from the start if we just go in guns blazing.”

“Why not do some recon, then?” Soap wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “we’re all trained for that.”

“Too risky, the warehouse is exposed, and the Hunter won’t leave any obvious gaps in security if they’re worth their salt.” Price grunts.

Ghost gets up, walking over to the maps spread on the truck’s hood, “then we break in.”

Soap smirks at the assurance in his voice, “and that’s why I love the Ghost.”

He instantly catches the knowing expression on Gaz’s face, as well as Simon stiffening beside him. Soap curses himself mentally, feeling his face heat up in shame. He prays for any god that might listen, that Ghost didn’t take it as seriously as the truth is.

Thankfully, Price saves him from blurting out some more recently-discovered-emotions, “no other way but through, eh Simon? What do you have in mind?”

Ghost scans the maps of the warehouse Laswell has sent over, “The Hunter doesn’t know we’re working together, if they’re expecting an attack they would only expect two people - me and Johnny.” his eyes flicker to Soap’s for a brief moment, “if we split up, the 141 could take them by surprise.”

“You said they’re after you and John, Simon. If they catch you, we might not be able to help.” Price says grimly.

Ghost sighs, looking away frustrated. His head turns to face Soap, eyes calculating, “...what if they don’t know it’s us?”

“What?” Price asks.

Ghost continues, eyes still staring deeply into his, “Johnny can easily disguise himself, he’s done so before. All he needs is to cover up his face and hair.”

The Captain nods to Ghost, “and what about you, son? Everyone knows your mask.”

“But no one knows his face.” Soap answers, understanding washing over him, “but Simon-”

“I can’t be Ghost if we want to finish this.” Simon brushes fingers over the bone-white teeth of the skull mask, hand tightening into a fist.

Gaz nods slowly, “and we can’t be the 141.” he sends a meaningful look to the Captain, “this operation has to be kept secret. If the SAS learns we collaborated with the Ghost…”

“Then we won’t be.” Price walks to the back of the truck, pulling out 3 black balaclavas and throwing them to Soap and Gaz.

Price begins explaining their plan, “Laswell has gathered up a few blueprints of the Konservy warehouse. There are several key points that appear to be far too open for us to breach, all except one - the offloading garage. We’ll split into two teams, me and Gaz will take the offices and CCTV rooms, clearing the way for Soap and Ghost to infiltrate the main machinery room.”

“Our plan depends on each team watching the other’s six, we’ll have to keep comms up.” Gaz adds.

“Once the first team takes over the CCTV room, we will be able to locate the Hunter. The faster we do this, the less likely reinforcements will arrive.” Price hands Soap and Ghost a radio.

“Do we know where they keep their vehicles?” Soap asks while fitting the comms over his clothes.

“Yeah, should be around where we first enter. Why?” Gaz raises a brow towards him.

A wicked smile spreads on Soap’s lips, “might be able to set up a little surprise for any newcomers.”

Ghost chuckles darkly, “always ready to craft a trap, aren’t you, Johnny?”

“Never failed me before, Simon.”

“You can take a look at our supplies, take whatever you need.” Price looks over each of them, “any questions?”

Soap flexes his hands, adrenaline thrumming a familiar song through his veins, anger painting his vision red, “what are we waiting for?”

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod soap #cod ghost #cod gaz #cod price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #kate laswell #BLOOD||HUNGER #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #gaz saying what we all think... finally someone notices #also taking some dialogue from the pre prison break cutscene dont mind me #im very excited to write the final battle i want it to be epic >:D #also this took a while bc i had to think of the plan and i always overthink shit when they make plans #like the thing with the informent: i searched for like an hour codes to cypher his message #only to realize... laswell would probably decode it before sending it to price and the gang......

[nyaskitten]

ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME??? THEYRE BRINGING BACK THE FUCKING OVERLORD???? AGAIN??? OH FUCK OFF DUDE.

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago spoilers #raine's rambles #ninjago leaks #im actually so fucking mad rn because its like . #the overlord . DOES NOT !!! belong in DR !! GET HIM THE FUCK OUT!!! #raine's shitposting #ME WHEN I FUCKIN LIE ON THE FUCKIN INNERNET #EHGRIGHRIOHGHTIH im so .... laughing at my own mischief rn <333333 i love you guys cuz i know at least five of you are gullible enough #five of you will fall for it #a forbidden five of you... even !!!! #unreality

[uncanny-tranny]

It's just... odd to me, I suppose, going from "what is in my pants is completely irrelevant to most anybody else's life" to the expectation that you must be completely open, essentially, about what is in your pants.

I think a lot of people understand the general idea of why it's bad decorum to demand people offer explanations for private information like this, but they don't analyze exactly why it's bad besides, "asking directly is just rude" and not "asking in any way still enforces the often violent nature of gender and sex, and putting people in the 'right box' is a part of that violence."

It's especially odd when seeing other trans people enforcing the idea that "what's in your pants?" is a genuine, good-faith basis for interacting with others.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #what i mean by the last paragraph is... WHY does it matter? #if i lied to you right now about what is in my pants... how would you know OR how would you change how i am treated by you? #and also. i would absolutely rather lie about my *own* body than be put in danger because it is a trans body #if worse comes to worst i genuinely don't care if somebody is mildly insulted that i didn't 'trust them' enough with that information #it's just weird to see people go from 'only tell doctors that info; it hardly matters outside that!' to... #...'you need to tell ANYbody - even in social and platonic situations where you don't think it matters'... #...can you see how believing in the fundamental idea (that your sex and to extent gender is not your own and belongs to everybody else)... #...doesn't really mesh well with the idea that trans people should be able to live an autonomous life wherein their information is *theirs* #and can you see how for people who aren't trans but have an 'its complicated' with the broad 'what's in your pants?' would ALSO be hurt? #because even if you don't word it as such you still present the fundamental idea that - again - your sex and gender are required informatio #and that it must be judged to be 'accurate' so others can place you in whatever direction they want to treat you with #anyway lying about this shit isn't Inherently Evil and the idea that it's like. a boogeyman is weird actually

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Was thinking about your au and realized that whichever neighbour wakes up last is in for a very awkward reunion

Imagine waking up to your entire neighbourhood being in an apocalyptic scenario, and you’re the last to find out about it-

technically the last neighbor is Sally BUT Julie is the last "normal-sleeping" neighbor to wake and yeah! she sure has a hell of a time! i mean tbh it's kinda her And Barnaby? they wake up within a week of each other (the neighbors wake via Pacific Rim kaiju rules) so their breakdowns overlap <3

#julie wakes up just in time for the situation to Start Deteriorating At A Rapid Pace #like 'welcome back julie! frank is very close to dying the neighborhood is quite literally beginning to crumble' #'tensions are very high and everyone is starting to lose it <3 also your memories and siblings and life and world was a lie <3 good luck!' #she and barnaby have it the worst smh #well. kinda the worst #cause sally wakes up to an (arguably) Even Worse Scenario and also tons of guilt etc etc #sally: oh so its my fault my friends are injured and/or dying/dead. cool. im going to cope with this so gracefully (lie) #(side note: the death(s) are Not her fault. they were going to happen no matter what) #(well. i say no matter what. they'd have been prevented if the lights had been turned back on but we all know that wasnt really an option) #rambles from the bog #wh lights out au #and julie does not really get time to adjust... #shit is already going down #but only a week or so after she wakes up Shit. Goes. Down. #the transition into act two occurs and thats a whooooole enchilada in of itself #and trust me a week is Not enough to adjust! #especially when frank passes out halfway through and then never wakes back up smhhhhh #julie: at least i have frank! right frank? frank? frank- #julie: .... #julie: at least i have eddie! and wally! #julie: wh- whats that? mhm. mhm. oh. really? oh... #julie: at least i have eddie!