#the first time I told someone I wanted to kill myself I was wearing the green shirt.

[scribbledghost]

More Ghost headcanons because no I can't stop myself bye

Simon doesn't celebrate the holidays, nor does he celebrate his birthday. You know this. And yet, one year you get him something. At first, he refuses. Tells you to return whatever it is.

"Don't think of it as a present," you tell him, "just... something I wanted to get you. The timing is a coincidence." Okay, okay, fine. He's listening. May as well see what it is before he goes back to telling you to return it.

He opens it, and it's a silver bracelet with a soundwave on it. You explain that you made a recording and sent it in, and the company engraved the waveform.

At first, you play coy, and won't tell him what the soundwave is of. But eventually he weasels it out of you out of pure curiosity.

When you tell him it says "I love you, Simon", he. Freezes. At first you think you've overstepped; done something wrong. Crossed a boundary you didn't know he had.

Then he's pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug as his breathing stutters. He'd appreciate it if you don't mention the fact that he's crying.

Once he takes a moment and composes himself, he presses a kiss to your temple and mutters a soft "you mean the world to me, love" into your ear.

Simon doesn't really say "I love you" for many reasons; some he's told you, and some he hasn't. But telling you that you mean the world to him says it for him. He means it. There is nothing more important to him in his life than you are.

The bracelet immediately becomes his most prized possession. He only takes it off to shower, and even then he's prone to forgetting if he's had a long day.

He wears it out in the field beneath one of his gloves. He figures it doesn't betray any identifying info on you, just a recording of your voice, so it should be safe to keep with him.

If someone wants to take it from him, they're going to have to either remove his hand or kill him first. The only thing on the planet he's more protective of other than that bracelet is you.

No, he will not tell anyone else what the soundwave says. You could not torture that information out of him. It is his, and his alone. He's not sharing it.

It serves as a multitude of things for him. A physical reminder of you. A reminder of your voice. A reminder of who he really is beneath the mask.

(And yes, he also gets you a matching bracelet with a recording of him saying you mean the world to him).

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

[star-girl69]

Fade Into You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you fell first, but clarisse fell harder. requested by anonymous!

a/n: decided to feed y’all today….. two fics i’m a monster that just creates and creates. this was so funny bc i kept accidentally writing angst and i had to stop myself. they’re allowed to have crushes on each other. it’s ok. this was hard anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Fade Into You - Mazzy Star

warnings: just so cutesy, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood and injury, soft clarisse i looooovvvvveeeeee you, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your chest heaves. You’ve never ran that fast or that far before in your life. Your satyr protector runs ahead to get the healers, and you crash against some random building- a tool shed, maybe?

You groan, crouching down to clutch at your lower leg sporting a large gash running blood. You don’t remember how it happened. Maybe it was when you fell? You could have sliced it open on an unfortunately sharp stick.

You don’t even want to think about the fact that the stupid monster thing chasing you could have gotten close enough to claw at you.

“Hey, hey,” someone says, crouching down next to you. She’s wearing an orange shirt. Her hair is curly, her eyes are pretty and brown, and oxygen isn’t getting to your brain so she kind of seems like an angel. “Oh, wow,” she mutters, looking at your leg. “One second, ‘kay?”

“Wait,” you say, grabbing onto her forearm. She looks up at you.

“I’m going two steps away, dummy.” She laughs, and you’ll remember that sound for the rest of your life.

She leaves you, and you almost want to cry because you feel so alone. You’ve just been told you’re a demigod, then you were forced to run through the woods, your heart is still hammering and your leg fucking burns.

But she was right. It was only two steps, and she comes back, the door of what must be some sort of storage shutting behind her.

She leans back down and presses a towel against your gash.

You hiss.

“Sorry,”

“You’re not.” She laughs again. More beautiful music in your ears.

“I’m not,” she agrees.

You fall into silence, it’s so dark out, but you can see everything about her so clearly.

“You can stop breathing so heavily,” she whispers, the shouting of your satyr protector getting closer, along with what must be the healers. “Camp Half-Blood is surrounded by a magical barrier. You’re safe here. Well, at least, no monsters are gonna get you.

“O-okay,” you mumble. You aren’t sure if you believe her. You don’t think you believe anything anymore.

The healers push her away, you’re so so tired, and she stands up, dusting off her hands.

“Thank you, Clarisse,” one of the healers says. “We’ll take it from here.”

Clarisse.

—-

The purpose of Clarisse La Rue’s entire existence seems to be to drive you insane.

The way her arms flex when she wields her spear, the way she lifts her shirt up to dab at sweat on her brow; and the way you can see her toned stomach and the faintest hint of abs you would actually kill to touch. The way she smiles, even though it’s never really genuine, and the way she laughs when she’s making fun of someone.

She was the first person you met at camp, and you’re pretty sure she doesn’t even remember it, yet alone know your name.

It was ironic, as the daughter of Aphrodite, to be quietly pining over someone from the distance. And it sucked, but maybe you would just always have this quiet crush on Clarisse, and you learned to take it like you took your breakfast.

Until the start of this summer, when everyone came back to camp, it was alive again, and it all changed. And now you’re fucked.

—-

You smile, watching a few of the younger campers scream about how amazing the lake is. Summer’s just started. It’s so beautiful this time of year. They didn’t have as traumatic experiences as you, no monsters chased them right up to the barrier of camp. The lake is huge and so blue it seems otherworldly- probably because it is.

You slam into something.

It’s an awkward flare of limbs and muttered obscenities, but you manage to keep yourself upright by falling back into a very convenient tree.

“Sorry,” you say, looking up and expecting to make eye contact with anyone but her.

You haven’t been face to face with Clarisse in four years. You mouth snaps shut, and you’re sure you look like a terrified deer in headlights.

She’s frozen just like you.

“W-watch where you’re going,” she hisses, pushing you farther into the tree as she walks past you.

Did Clarisse just stutter?

—-

Clarisse stares at you.

You blush like you’re about to turn into a flamingo.

The cycle repeats.

—-

This year, the Ares and Aphrodite cabins were paired together to share the field for sword practice just before dinner. The sun is hidden by the trees, providing some nice shade as you frown at all the Ares kids sparring like their lives depend on it.

While Aphrodite kids are not the most naturally skilled in fighting, you’re still demigods, and you still have to know how to protect yourselves.

Matty, a Ares child and your sister Tyla’s boyfriend, already sparred three times, winning against his siblings, then sparred with Tyla once; which just ended with her getting bored after a minute and dropping her sword before jumping into his arms.

You watch random people spar. Everyone moves around you, Tyla and Matty are on top of each other next to you on the bench, everyone walks around you to collect their water bottles from the table behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna spar, Y/N?” Tyla asks, fiddling with Matty’s hands.

“No,” you laugh.

“That’s against the rules.”

You know that voice, you hear that annoyingly angelic voice in your dreams.

Clarisse sits down next to you. You can hear Tyla smiling. Only a few of your siblings who can be trusted to keep a secret know about your wretched crush. You’re probably blushing.

“Uh, what?” you say, looking in her direction but not risking actually looking at her.

“You have to spar,” she says, like it’s painfully obvious, kicking out her legs.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you shrug.

“Sounds like you’re scared, Y/N,” Matty muses.

You shoot him a bored look. “Sounds like you’re whipped, Matty.”

Tyla is currently in Matty’s lap, her hands in his hair.

“Oh, definitely,” he says, turning towards Tyla with a sweet smile on his face and she coos and immediately attaches her face to his.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter, turning away from the two of them having borderline sex on the bench.

Clarisse laughs.

You clench your fist, you feel like you’re gonna explode being so close to her and not able to climb up into her lap and kiss her like a woman starved.

“You still have to spar, you know.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“Hm, no. I won’t have to.”

You finally look towards her, if only because you’re confused, but she’s looking straight out at the the distance, where a certain centaur is making his way to the fields-

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, immediately jumping up and scrambling for a sword from the pile behind you.

You turn around, hoping one of your siblings is free so you can spar with them-

The sword is ripped out of your hands.

“That one sucks,” Clarisse says, simply, while you stand there with your mouth open. She rifles through the swords. “Use this one instead.”

The one she hands you does seem a lot easier to hold. Not too heavy, not too light.

How the hell could she tell which one is best for you just by looking at you?

“Matty,” Clarisse says. “Chiron’s coming.”

Tyla and Matty both hop up, giggling at they make their way towards one of the marked circles.

As you’re left there with Clarisse, it suddenly hits you that after four years of simple indifference, she’s talking to you like she knows you. Or like she wants to know you.

You like her too much to question it. You want her too much to be bothered as to why she’s giving you five minutes of her time.

Clarisse walks away. You thought it was going to happen, so your heart feels this sort of heavy that is indescribable, but she turns around.

“Are you coming?” she asks, deadpan.

“Oh. Uh, yeah,” you say, sticking your sword under your arm and cracking your knuckles. With Chiron showing up, she leads you to the marked circle all the way at the edge of the field, the start of the woods, the very last one.

She stops and turns around, this sort of nonchalant but smug look on her face. She reaches forward and bats your hands away from each other with a single swat that leaves you so shocked from the feeling of her skin on hers that your hands fall to your sides.

“Stop that. You’ll hurt ‘em.”

Here, right in front of the trees, the sun shining through the gaps shines off of Clarisse’s tan skin and her bronze armor in a way that makes her look otherworldly.

Clarisse’s that kind of pretty where you just never want to stop staring at her. The kind of pretty where you just want to fade into her and be next to her; the kind of pretty where nothing compares to her but it just watches her too.

Like the sun behind her, it isn’t jealous, it just admires her and shines off her skin.

She’s smirking at you, her knees bending into an offensive position, her spear pointing at you.

“He’s watching,” she taunts, and you’re really not in the mood for a lecture and the loss of dessert privileges, so you copy her.

“I’m not the best-”

She spins forward, spear arcing toward you. You yelp, raising your sword up to block her spear. They slam together.

“You’ll do fine,” she smiles, so smug in a way that makes you want to slap her and kiss her all at once.

“Whatever,” you mumble as she pulls back.

But you feel a little more confident with her praise, launching a surprise attack. She seems a little shocked, but she blocks it, probably a bit closer than normal.

“Feisty,” she murmurs.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

She launches her own attack, more force behind it this time, and it’s harder to stop her, but you do, you push her back.

“It means you’re exactly like I thought you were.”

You frown, because what is she even saying, but she launches another attack, smiling brightly as you block it, her eyes never leaving your form.

It’s a blurry of your heartbeat in your ears, her smile, the clash of her spear and your sword, the rest of the field coming to life with the sound of metal on metal, wins and losses.

Your arm is growing heavy.

But you keep your eyes open, blocking her attacks and waiting for an opening you’re not sure will ever come.

Finally, she reveals her side, and you swing, your sword clanging as it hits her metal armor.

She looks down at your sword and then you.

When she looks up again, it’s never the same.

—-

“Did you let me win that first day?”

You’re in the woods with her, so many months after that first day, and it all still feels like it was yesterday. You’re laying on a blanket on the soft grass, facing each other, limbs tangled together and her arm around you.

“Hm?” she says, slightly sleepy.

“When we sparred?”

“Oh,” she smiles, yawns. “Yeah, I let you win.”

You gasp and hit her arm.

“Clar, that’s, like, horrible. Our relationship was built on lies.”

You’re the only person allowed to call her that.

She frowns. “It wasn’t. What are you talking about?”

“I was gloating over you for months, and you let me-”

“Okay, but, you still won. I just helped you a bit. That’s what a good girlfriend should do.”

“You were not my girlfriend then.”

“Yeah, but you wanted me to be. For how long? Four years?”

You roll yours eyes. “You bumped into me once and then became obsessed with me.”

She smiles against you as she kisses your forehead.

“Who wouldn’t?” she snorts. “Not my fault you bumped into me in a way no one else ever has, angel.”

“My love language is just bumping into people, I think.”

“Then you can’t bump into anybody but me. Or else I’d kill them, probably.”

“A true romantic.”

She wraps her arms around you, muscles flexing as she pulls you on top of her.

“Only for you, angel,” she says, eyes falling closed again. “‘M cold, be my blanket.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be all rough and tough?”

“Can’t be with you,” she yawns. “Love you too much. Now shush. I’m gonna fall asleep.”

“You big baby,” you mumble. “Big bad Clarisse needs to fall asleep with her girlfriend and get her full eight hours or else she’ll go on a rampage.”

“Damn right.”

Clarisse is the type of pretty that just makes you wanna fade into her. And you do, in the light of the rising moon, the light of the fading sun. You fade into her.

—-

y/n when clarisse helps her on her first day: wow, an angel 😍😍

clarisse when y/n bumps into her: wow, an angel 😍😍

ALSO CLARISSE CALLING Y/N ANGEL???? I THINK I’VE FOUND MY NEW OBSESSION Y’ALL

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

#shorts! #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu x reader fluff #hq!! x reader fluff

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting into a fight with my old boss for replacing me?

I (M19) worked for this guy (M late-30s) as a teenager for a couple of years in a very physically laborious job. I had a pretty shitty home life, and I came to see him as kind of a father figure. He was a bit gruff but was one of the only people who supported and looked after me. He helped me with school, taught me the ropes of the job, and consistently gave advice and backup when needed at work. Most importantly though, he helped me get out of my home situation, which is something I will always be grateful for. I tried my best to make him proud and be helpful to him.

However, while working there, I had an accident that prevented me from working for a while. I won't go into detail, because it would take time and I also don't want to get too gruesome, but I suffered major physical harm and couldn't work, go to school, or really do anything. It wasn't his fault at all, but he was the one that found me after it happened. I think he blames himself for what happened to me. It devastated me, because I really loved working there and working with him, and don't blame him for what happened.

I didn't see him for a while after the accident. In the time it took for me to recover and to be deemed okay to work again, I was desperate to return and see him again. It's actually a miracle I was able to work at all, as the professionals I'd seen all thought there was no hope for me. However, when I did go to see him, I realized that he had hired someone else for my role while I was gone.

To be clear, I hadn't applied for a job with him. He didn't have a job posted or anything, but knew about my home situation and offered me a chance to get away from my family and make some money by basically acting as his assistant.

So he didn't need to hire this other guy (M15), he could've left my position free for me to return to or just got rid of the job entirely. It doesn't help that he acted the same way with this other kid that he used to act with me, like some kind of a father figure/mentor. This other kid even looks like me, it's actually creepy. For all intents and purposes he replaced me.

Furthermore, the thing that caused my accident in the first place hadn't been removed either, which is just neglectful and puts others in danger.

I got so angry and jealous that I lashed out and took over Gotham's criminal underground, naming myself after the old alias of his greatest enemy, the Red Hood, and masterminded a plan to fuck him over. I beat up my replacement while wearing my old uniform, and told my old boss, Batman 🦇, that he could either kill me or kill the thing that caused my accident - or death - which was the Joker 🤡. He choose the Joker, so I blew up the building we were in.

In retrospect, I wonder if I might've overreacted slightly, so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #fandom aita #unreality #batman #red hood #good enough to post on purpose

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

We will protect you. Part II

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: New information was discovered. Natsume Soseki and Karl take first step to insuring your safety.

Meanwhile, you cuddle with Paul Verlaine and Artur Rimbaud.

Warning: OOC. Stalking. People misunderstood Reader's relationship with BSD Cast. English is my second language.

Part I

Part III

____

It was late, but no one in your house were asleep.

While Ranpo, Kunikida, Yosano and Dazai were busy interrogating the robber, the rest of you searched through the house one more time to make sure, that Stalker didn't steal anything and didn't put any cameras into the house.

Thankfully, there weren't any.

Then you took a good look at your clothes and underwear, that Stalker messed up.

That's where Ango's ability came in handy. He read walls' memories.

According to them, some figure, dressed in black with a mask on their head, simply threw your clothes on the floor, and, after taking the drawer with your underwear from the desk, pour red paint on it and threw it on the floor.

Just three or four times in a washing machine and your clothes will be fine to wear.

Everyone gathered in the common room. They were in groups, discussing, what should they do with Stalker. You were waiting for the washing machine to turn off.

In an hour, Ranpo, Yosano, Dazai and Kunikida finished the interrogation.

Dazai stand in the middle of the room. His brown eyes shined.

"Interrogation was a success. And we get some information about Stalker."

________

"So... Someone paid to this man, so he can steal my phone?" You asked, while sitting between Verlaine and Rimbaud.

Dazai nodded.

"Yup. And, apparently, it was our Stalker. According to what Ango saw and what robber told us, it was the same person. And I am pretty sure, that our robber was honest, while describing them. Moreover..."

Dazai narrowed his eyes.

"Robber was instructed not to hurt you. Because, as Stalker said themselves, 'I will punish them myself. For being a wanton person who flaunted their body about as a kept person."

The room was deadly silent. You looked around. You close your eyes. Then you spoke.

"At first, I thought, that Stalker was not from the city and could stalk me only during Charity Fair. Now, there is a chance that they are from here and stalk me during Charity Fair for some different reason. That, or our Stalker have an accomplice from my university... At least, that explains the nickname "

Yosano stepped forward.

"Wait, [Y/N], don't tell me..."

You nodded.

"Not to face. But, I have heard the rumors and whispers."

Silence. If someone dropped a pin, people will turn around, started by loud noise.

You noticed, that Verlaine and Rimbaud looked ready to marched to your university and destroyed it. You were sure, that others were having similar thoughts.

You quickly stand up and raise both hands.

"They are just talking. Bark and no bite. I soon will finish the university and won't interact with them. It's not important right now. Right now, we have one important thing to do."

You cleared your throat and continue.

"As long as you don't kill anyone, you can deal with the Stalker as you want."

It seems, your words rise others' spirits. Soon everyone star whispering to each other, discussing, what they should do next.

You heard, that Arthur and Paul were talking about rooms, for some reason. Their voices were hushed, so you can't make out all of their words.

You yawn. It was a crazy day. You raise your voice again.

"Let's discuss our plans tomorrow. It's late, let's get some sleep."

Before you can turn around and walk outside the room, you felt, how someone took you by the elbow.

Paul Verlaine led you after him. Arthur Rimbaud was following after you two.

"Stay in my room tonight. You will be safe from the Stalker. Just in case the Stalker decide to foolishly strike again tonight. Arthur and I will chase him off."

Arthur reassuringly pet your shoulder.

"Don't worry, [Y/N]. You will be protected. By the way..." Arthur kissed your head. "The comments that this idiots are spitting. They aren't true, they not important. But, your comfort is important. Please, if someone tried to harras you because of the way you living... Tell us. We will help you. We will support you."

You stay quiet for a second. Then you smiled.

"Thank you. Can we cuddle tonight?"

Paul and Arthur chuckled.

"With me? Or with Arthur?"

You chuckled in return.

"In a middle of cuddle sandwich, of course."

Paul glance at you.

"With pats and scratches?"

You nodded. The perfect night awaits you.

________

The rest of the night was quiet.

You slept in Verlaine's bed. Paul's right arm was around your midsection, with his left arm he was playing with your hair. His stomach was pressed against your lower back and one leg was inserted between your knees. Paul was nuzzling your ear. You feel his soft breath on your skin.

Arthur bury his face into your neck. With one hand he was cupping your cheek, with the second hand he was petting your neck.

You feel safe and comfy. Familiar warmth were surrounding you.

Finally, for the last four years, you were feeling safe during Charity Fair.

This time, everything is going to be alright.

_____

Later that night, Natsume Soseki left the house in his cat form. Karl follows after him.

_____

This man is nowhere to be found.

Did he steal [Y/N]'s phone and ran with it?

I will find him.

But first... I will make sure, that [Y/N] take the message. They should stop staying with this people. They must become pure again.

They.... AH! What the hell?! Where did this cat come from? Go away, stop trying to scratch my legs!

No! Not my nose!

Stop biting!

Bad cat! Bad cat!

Get off my head!

AH! THE RACCOON IS TRYING TO BITE MY FEET!

PEST CONTROL!

________

For three hours a certain Calico cat and raccoon were yowling, hissing, scratching and biting a masked figure, dressed in black.

Natsume and Karl were hot on their tail. They only calmed down, when the sun start risen.

At that point, the Stalker was stuck on a tree, with Natsume scratching them and Karl growling on them from the ground. Finally, Stalker slipped and fell from the tree

They were alive, but, they will get a bump. And, perhaps, a mild concussion.

Natsume, in his human form, jumped from the tree down.

He looked at Karl.

"Mind to find me a fitting dumpster?"

Karl purred in agreement.

______

Stalker were fond in a few hours by garbage truck driver.

Unfortunately, for Stalker, they were thrown in the truck to the collected garbage, before they were spotted. Even worse, right before that, a garbage truck driver just collected garbage from the fruit shop. That disposed of some rotten durian fruits.

Stalker were thrown right in the pile of rotten durian.

The next two days, Stalker spent in a bathtub, trying to get rid of the horrible smell.

________

For you, two days passed in a blur. Every time you had to go outside, you didn't feel anyone's gaze on you. You tried to ask if others had something to do with it. Everyone was quiet about that, but Natsume and Karl do looked proud of themselves.

These two days were full of preparation for the Charity Fair.

And for the mission, 'Teach a lesson to the Stalker'.

According to the plan, every day for eight days, one group of BSD Characters will stay in or near the café, so they can chase Stalker off, if they appeared.

You strengthen up your café uniform. You glance at Calico cat. Natsume let you put a bow on him.

Natsume himself insisted on accompanying you for the next eight days. You actually managed to convince café manager to let Natsume stay with you.

Because people will buy anything, if they saw a cute cat.

For the next few days, Natsume will pretend to be Café lucky charm. This way he could always be with you and protect you, if you and BSD Cast got separated.

Natsume... Or Mii-chan meowed and jumped on your shoulders. You scratch behind his ears.

Time for the show. The next eight days will be eventful.

#self-awareau #self-awarebsd #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #tw: stalking

[taey0ngsvape]

blue butterflies

“i guess i want you more than i thought i did”

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

genre: fluff, some angst, friends to lovers

word count: 3.3k

contains: arguing, chenle calls reader “my girl”, he’s a lil possessive but i tried my hardest to make it not toxic😭, mentions of reader wearing a skirt, some tears but no actual crying, fluff at the end

summary: it takes seeing you getting ready for a date with someone else to finally push chenle to confess.

~

When Chenle’s phone screen lights up with a FaceTime from you, he’d already been thinking about you. He’s been thinking about you a lot lately, not that he’d ever tell you that. It’s not his fault that everything reminds him of you.

He accepts the call and sets his phone on the desk in front of him as you come into view.

“What do you think of this outfit?” you ask him, foregoing a greeting. You’re wearing a tight black top cut out in various places to show your skin paired with some dark green cargo pants. For a moment, he just stares, taking everything in. You look good. He’s never seen that shirt before. But of course he’ll never let you know what kind of effect you have on him.

“You look like Kim Possible,” he says nonchalantly. 

You let out a noise of distress and pick up your phone. 

Chenle laughs. “It’s not bad if you’re trying to look like a secret agent.”

“Yeah well, secret agent isn’t exactly what I’m going for right now.”

“What are you going for?” Chenle asks.

You sigh. “Dignified and collected, but still open and casual.”

Chenle snorts. “Good luck with that.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck you. I should’ve called Jisung or something. At least he would be nice to me.”

“Like he’d be able to help,” Chenle scoffs. “Why are you so worried anyway?”

“Because I need an outfit that’s not too over the top. I don’t want to screw up my chances before the date has even started.”

For a second, it’s like time slows down. The word date grows to a crescendo in his mind. You hadn’t mentioned you were going on a date.

Before he can stop himself, Chenle asks, “What date?”

“When Jisung and I hung out the other day a guy at the coffee shop asked me for my number. I thought Jisung would’ve told you.” You shrug and set your phone down, beginning to search your closet for something else.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chenle asks. Usually you two tell each other everything, it’s just a part of being friends. What’s worse is that you actually did text him after the day you spent with Jisung but you hadn’t mentioned anything about giving some guy your number.

You shrug. “We never talk about that kind of stuff.” You lay something else out on your bed before picking up your phone and turning the camera around to showcase a different outfit laid out on the sheets. “What about this?” 

This time, Chenle hardly looks at the outfit. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?” you ask. Then, you lay a skirt down next to the outfit. “Should I wear the skirt instead?”

Chenle clenches his jaw. You wore that skirt the first time you spent the day with just him, he loves that skirt and he can’t stomach the possibility of you wearing that skirt to go on a date with someone else. 

“I don’t want you to go.” He knows he can’t stop you, but he refuses to sit here and do nothing while you get ready to walk away from him.

You scoff. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” You pull the skirt closer to the outfit and let out a content hum. “I’m going to wear it.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Chenle repeats, firmer this time. 

On the other end of the line, you’ve fallen silent, the camera still focused on the skirt and the blue butterflies that line the hem. When you speak again, your voice is soft and almost timid. “What are you saying?”

Chenle exhales and lets his eyes fall shut. “I don’t want to see you on a date with someone else. I don’t want to…” Chenle can feel the anger in his chest rising. “I can’t be silent while you bring your new boyfriend around and pretend like it’s not killing me to see someone else get everything I want.” He pauses, forcing his voice to steady out and return to a normal volume. “You’re supposed to be my girl.”

When he opens his eyes, you’ve turned the camera around again and he can see your face. His heart aches when he sees the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He never meant to upset you.

Your lower lip quivers as you meet his eyes. “That’s not fair.”

Guilt fills him as you sniff and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You… you’re being mean.”

The ache in his chest turns sharp and his shame becomes almost overwhelming. “You never told me about your feelings, never gave any signs that you wanted me as more than just a friend. But you flirted with me left and right all the time and gave me hope but not enough and now that I’ve found someone who actually is up front with me about their feelings, who actually wants me and isn’t afraid to say it, you’re trying to stop me from being with them.”

More tears roll down your cheeks. “You never told me you wanted me but now that someone else does you’re trying to stop me. You understand how insensitive that is, right? How selfish?”

And you’re right. He knows you’re right. He is being selfish, he’s preventing you from reaching for happiness just because that happiness doesn’t make him happy too. But he still can’t bear to think of you dating someone else, of wearing the butterfly skirt for someone who isn’t him.

“I didn’t mean to…” he pinches his brow. “Please don’t go.”

He hears you make a sound somewhere between a scoff and a sob but by the time he looks back at his phone, you’ve already hung up the call. His lockscreen stays illuminated for a few seconds, a picture of you and him that Jisung had taken a while back. You’re sitting next to him on the subway, asleep on his shoulder while he holds your hand. He hadn’t realized Jisung was taking a picture until after you’d gone home and the second he saw the photo he knew it was a moment he wanted to keep forever. 

He swallows the lump in his throat and resists the urge to rip his hair out because he knows he just fucked up bad. Every single thing you’d said was true, he had been leading you on in a way and just because it was unintentional doesn’t make it any better. He’d been selfish and careless and now you were paying the price.

Chenle buries his face in his hands. He needs to apologize. He knows he needs to apologize. But after everything, the least he can do is give you some space while you go on your date so he doesn’t ruin your day any more than he has already. He’ll apologize later, once he’s sure your date is over. It’s still pretty early, you probably agreed to meet the guy for lunch, so Chenle figures he can head to your place around dinnertime and pick up some flowers on the way. 

Waiting around is much easier said than done. He feels restless all day and can only keep himself occupied by one thing for so long before he starts losing control of his thoughts and has to find something else to distract himself with. By 5 he’s gotten too impatient so he heads out to find a florist on the way to your place.

Once he’s gotten the bouquet of flowers, he walks the rest of the way to your apartment. He can’t help but wonder if you’ll still be wearing the butterfly skirt or if you’ll have already taken off your makeup and put on comfortable clothes. Usually that means wearing one of his shirts but he doesn’t dare to dream that big. 

When he arrives at your door, he hesitates to knock. What if you’re not home? Or worse, what if you are and you’ve invited the guy over? As much as he hates it, he decides that if that’s the case then he’ll leave and let you enjoy your night no matter how much it hurts him. 

He knocks on the door a few times, far less aggressive than he usually is when he comes over. He’s sure you’ve gotten used to him pounding on the door to announce his arrival. That, or he’ll just walk right in. It almost feels too formal to knock politely.

He only waits on the doorstep for a few moments before he hears the lock click and he takes a step back as you open the door. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. You aren’t wearing the butterfly skirt or the blue shirt you’d chosen to pair it with on the phone. You’re wearing your casual clothes and he registers that they’re the same clothes you’d been wearing this morning. To his immense relief, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in your apartment.

You look conflicted, like you’re trying to choose between throwing yourself into his arms and slamming the door in his face. Chenle clears his throat and extends the flowers towards you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, hoping he sounds as genuine as he feels. “I’ve been a terrible friend and I’m sorry it took getting yelled at to realize it. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I know I did anyway so I came to try and make it right because I hate being the reason you’re upset.”

Your face softens a bit and you look between him and the bouquet of flowers between you. “I got them as an apology, not a romantic thing. I know you literally just went on a date. How did that go, by the way?” He knows he’s rambling a bit but for once his nerves are getting the better of him.

You take the flowers from his hand and he feels his heart skip. You admire them for a few moments, running your fingers over the colorful petals. “I didn’t go,” you say.

“What?” he asks. “Why?”

You look up from the flowers and meet his eyes. “Let’s talk inside.”

While you go to the kitchen to fill a vase for the flowers, Chenle sits on your couch waiting. He’s never felt so out of place in your apartment. Over the length of your friendship, your place has become like a second home to him, but now he’s almost overwhelmed with a feeling that he shouldn’t be here. 

Chenle looks up when you walk over, but you don’t join him on the couch, instead sitting in an armchair against the wall. Struck with another twinge of guilt, Chenle mumbles another apology. You won’t even sit next to him and he’s entirely to blame.

“Why didn’t you go?” he asks. “I bet the guy could’ve cheered you up. He’s probably nicer than I am.”

“Being upset wasn’t the reason,” you say. For a moment, you collect your thoughts before looking at Chenle. “I didn’t go because I don’t like him. I thought if I went and got to know him then maybe I could, but right now… I mean, I don’t even know his last name. And I didn’t see a point in going on a date with someone I don’t like when I already have feelings for someone else. And they have feelings for me too.”

Chenle’s eyes widen as he processes what you’ve just said. “Does that mean…” His mouth feels dry. He almost can’t believe it. Sure, the two of you flirted playfully sometimes but you laughed it off afterwards and in all the time he knew you you’d never dated anyone. He thought you weren’t interested in a relationship with anyone, much less one with him.

“You… you’ve always been special to me. You were always doing everything you could just to make me smile. You would listen to my stories and share your own too. I always felt a connection with you. But we never talked about relationships together, not even our pasts. And you’re such a playful person with everyone, I had no reason to believe you actually meant anything you said when you flirted with me,” you say, a slight frown on your lips as you look at him.

“I meant it,” Chenle says instantly. “All of it.” He hates that you thought he wasn’t sincere. He should’ve been braver, more straightforward. “I…” he sighs. “I really like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. I’m so sorry I made you think I wasn’t serious. But I swear to you, every time I called you beautiful I meant it. And I mean it when I say that you are one of the most interesting people I know. You’re so smart and you’re kind and you make me laugh and I love being with you all the time. And I should’ve told you all of this sooner. But I’m telling you now and I promise you I mean it, okay? I really really like you.”

When you smile he feels like the room has brightened a bit. It’s not even a full smile, just a slight curve of your lips, but it’s enough to have his heart racing as his chest fills with relief. 

“I like you too,” you say, making sure to meet his eyes. “And I accept your apology. But I am upset that you didn’t tell me. And… if you can’t communicate with me then I don’t think I could be in a relationship with you. If we’re going to date, I need to trust that you’ll talk to me.”

“You really want that? With me?” Chenle still feels a bit stunned. Throughout your whole friendship he’d always had moments where he wondered why you chose him and if someday you’d stop. And even once he realized he liked you as more than a friend he hadn’t dared to hope you would feel the same. You already seemed out of his league as a friend.

“Yeah,” you say. “I want you to be mine. And I want to be yours too, but I need to know that you’ll be open with me.”

“I will.” Chenle sits up a little straighter. “I promise. I’ll be open and honest with you. And you can do the same with me. Always.”

You smile softly and Chenle notices that your shoulders look more relaxed than they had when you first sat down. “Okay,” you say, your smile widening.

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” he asks and his heart swells when you laugh. He loves the sparkle in your eye when you look at him and in this moment he decides he’ll do anything he has to if it means you’ll always look at him the way you are now.

“You do realize you have to actually take me on a date first, right?” you say, somewhat teasingly. “And before you ask, no, we are not going anywhere right now. I’m not going out until tomorrow at the absolute earliest.”

But Chenle has never been one to back down from a challenge (and he doesn’t feel like going out either) so he just shrugs. “Fine. We’ll have our first date here then. I’ll make dinner.”

You laugh a little at his enthusiasm. “As long as it isn’t eggs.”

“What if it has eggs in it?” he teases and grins when you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I should do the cooking,” you suggest but Chenle shakes his head immediately.

“It’ll be great. I promise.” You still look skeptical but he just grins at you. “Can I have a kiss for good luck?” he asks, adoring the way your cheeks flush red. Cute.

“What do you need good luck for?” you ask.

“Cooking is serious business,” he says. “Did you know that the kitchen is one of the most dangerous rooms in a house?”

“Maybe you should stay out of it then.”

Chenle sighs exasperatedly and you fight to contain a smile.

“Besides,” you add, “we’re not even dating yet.”

“Fine,” Chenle huffs, standing up. “But if there’s a kitchen fire I’m blaming you.”

You roll your eyes. “If there’s a kitchen fire I’m never speaking to you again.”

Chenle pretends not to hear you and heads for the kitchen to start the meal. He’s pretty sure he’s used your kitchen more than his own considering how often he’s here. 

You put on some music and sit on the edge of the counter to watch him as he works. “Is the kitchen actually one of the most dangerous rooms in the house?” you ask him.

He shrugs as he fills a pot with water. “I don’t know, maybe. I made that up.” As the sound of your bubbly laughter fills the room he smiles to himself.

You continue talking to him as he cooks and he realizes that this doesn’t feel all that different from when he’s normally here, but there’s a certain weight that has been lifted. His chest no longer feels tight every time he looks at you. He doesn’t have to hold himself back from admiring you anymore.

After dinner (which you complimented heavily and made him very proud of himself), you insist on helping him wash the dishes. He washes the larger pots as you handle the smaller plates and bowl. He hardly takes his eyes off you the whole time, fighting back a smile as you sing quietly to the music you put on. 

He ends up finishing his task first and he can’t resist wrapping his arms around you from behind and pulling you close to his chest. You stiffen a little at first, but it’s only for a second before you relax and go back to the plate you were working on. 

“This is nice,” you say, setting down the finished plate and drying your hands with the dish towel. 

Chenle feels a smile creep onto his face. He loves having you close to him but before it was a rare occurrence. Now he has an excuse to hold you whenever he wants.

“Are we dating now?” he asks.

You turn in his arms to face him and he smiles at you. “I made you dinner and you said that it was good. And I didn’t even start a kitchen fire or—” You cut him off, leaning in and connecting your lips.

As soon as he registers that you’re kissing him, he pulls you closer and moves one hand from your waist to cup your cheek. He’s not sure how long he’s been waiting for this moment, but he knows it’s better than anything he imagined. 

You pull away too soon for his liking, but he lets you. He keeps one arm around you and uses the other hand to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, smiling at the pink blush dusting your cheeks.

“Now we’re dating,” you say with a grin.

“So can I kiss you again?” he asks eagerly and you laugh.

“You can kiss me whenever you want.”

nct dream masterlist

#clare’s fics🌸 #nct fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #chenle imagines #chenle fluff #chenle scenarios #nct dream fluff

[ctrlchar]

Stalker Charlie Walker headcannons

not requested! and i know the gif isn’t charlie but rory looks so cute here

this man will do whatever it takes to see you

like has a whole notes app with your schedule and things you like to do

you were definitely going to be a victim but charlie said he’d rat her out if she killed you not even caring if he gets caught too<3

he goes from friend to friend asking about you and if anyone ever tells you he’ll say they were lying

somehow he found your address and ever since he’s been going over to your house

it started off as a few times a week but then he couldn’t help himself and a few times a week turned into a few times a day

he noticed the little band tees you would wear and he would go home and the first thing he does is litsen to those bands

whenever he gets himself off you’re the only thing on his mind

he thinks about you riding him,edging him and definitely overstimulating him

i don’t think he had a mommy kink until he met you tbh

hes super possessive of you

even if you guys aren’t dating he would be fuming if you even looked at someone other then him but of course he wouldn’t tell you

eventually he decided it would be best if he just talks to you

he invited you to the stabathon to which you happily accepted

he gets you a seat right in the middle knowing it’s the best seat

after he gives his little speech he goes and sits down beside you

you get tired after stab three (because who is gonna sit there and watch 7 stab movies)

you and him talk about the movies and whatnot before charlie noticed how tired you seem

”tired?” he asks before taking a sip of his drink

you nod at his question before he thinks

“i was gonna head out soon myself” he lied “i have to get up early so if you want i could drive you home” he offers with a smile

eventally you accept his offer and he drives you home but you never told him your address?

too tired to think about it you put it off and let yourself into your house

and if you heard rustling in the bushes and maybe even a couple whimpers no you didnt

a/n: before anyone asks yes i did look up how many stab movies there were and in scream 4 it said they shower a box set of 7 and this was so rushed my apologies guys

#charlie walker #scream #scream 4 #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #charlie walker x reader

[prettykittycastle]

love your writing! can you do something where the reader and dean are sharing their sex experiences and she tells him that she’s never squirted before and he makes her? & them being friends with like a lotttt of flirting and sexual tension

Alright

Summary: Dean offers to make the reader squirt for the first time.

(The reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. The ethnicity/race is any.)

(Content Warning: Fingering, slight dirty talk, multiple orgasms, slight choking, squirting, overstimulation)

It was pushing midnight and me and Dean were still going hard, drinking and laughing our asses off about a multitude of things. He was drinking his usual whiskey while I chose to stick to a nice, cold beer. Sam had already decided to call it a night early and went to bed the second we came from our case. Surprisingly, the case we worked was actually pretty easy to figure out, the only problem was actually fighting and killing the monster. It took a lot of effort but we were able to do it with minimal injuries. Me and Dean decided that such an easy case should be rewarded with a peaceful night of drinking and laughing.

"I didn't mean to. I had no control over it," Dean defended himself, laughing along with me at his story.

The conversation had somehow switched to the topic of embarrassing sex stories.

"I was cumming every where and it just landed wherever. I didn't mean to cum in her eyes or her nose."

"Oh my god, Dean. That's horrible!" I told him, can't help laughing harder.

"If I'm horrible, then so is she. She once squirted in my face and it landed in my eye."

I couldn't hold back the next wave of laughter that came from my throat and I had to place my beer bottle on the bunker table before I accidentally waste it.

"So what about you?" He asked, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"What about me?"

"Squirted in a guy's eye? Something else?"

"Oh, never," I chuckled, shaking my head. "I've never squirted before."

Once I felt that my laughter has simmered down, I picked up my bottle and and was about to drink when I noticed the look upon Dean's face and his silence.

"What?"

"You've never squirted? Ever?"

I shook my head and sipped my beer.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. It's just never happened. I don't know if I can."

"Lots of women don't know until they get with someone who can fuck them good enough," he stated, downing the rest of his whiskey, looking at me with a look that I've never seen on him before.

Me and Dean tended to sometimes have our moments of not knowing whether or not we would be good together but we would always sort of ignore it and pretend it never happened. Don't ruin a good friendship, is what I always tell myself. The look in Dean's eyes is making me think that perhaps it might be worth trying to experiment with him just to see.

Clearing my throat, I try to ignore the tingling in my core that his look is giving me. "Well, I guess I haven't found that person yet." I took my bottle and drunk the last of my beer, feeling my body getting hotter and hotter, the longer he looked at me.

"If you want, I could see if I can make you... Just to see if you can."

Oh fuck. He wants to make me squirt. Just the thought of it is making me soak my panties.

I was about to open my mouth and tell him yes when he suddenly stood up from his chair and took a few steps to stand in front of me, his clothed crotch being right at eye level with me. Even through the thick jeans, he was wearing, I could see the growing bulge of his dick and I so badly wanted to-

"(Y/N)," he said and I looked up at him to see the look on his face become even more intense.

I stood up, my head stopping at his chest, and decided to say fuck it and grabbed his flannel, pulling him down to my lips. Surprisingly his lips were extremely soft and they tasted like the whiskey he was drinking, but the way he kissed me was something out of this world. The way he moved his lips against mine made the tingling inside me quickly grow to a small burning and I could feel my panties getting more soaked.

Pulling away from my lips, he lightly wrapped his hand around my neck and I looked up at him to see that the usual happy green eyes of his were now full of pent-up hunger. "Get on the table, sweetheart," he ordered, his voice deeper.

"But, Dean, we-" I was cut off by the feel of his hand giving me a light squeeze, making me gasp.

"Get on the table, now," He demanded and this time, I didn't hesitate to do as he said.

Still holding my neck, he began kissing me again, moaning against my lips.

"Dean, Sam could wake up-" I tried to say, pulling away.

"Then let him see." He continued kissing me, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I could feel one of his hands unbuttoning my pants and unzipping them, before I felt the tips of his fingers dip into them, under my panties and to my center.

"D-Dean," I moaned into him, feeling him lightly rubbing my clit.

"You're so fucking wet," he groaned, rubbing me faster.

He placed one last kiss on my lips before taking his hand off my neck and moving it down to my pants. Still rubbing my clit, he used his other hand to pull my pants down, the hunger he had was evident in his hurry-ness to take them off. When the pants were at my knees, I helped him out by kicking them the rest of the way off. I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in knowing that he was this horny for me.

"Fuck, (Y/N)," I heard him groan. "You really are soaked."

I looked down to see the crotch of my panties was almost soaked through by my wetness. Any other time I would have been embarrassed about it, but not tonight. Tonight, all I’m thinking about is Dean’s face between my legs.

"It's all for me, sweetheart," he asked, grabbing the edge of my panties and yanking them down my legs.

"Yeah," I told him, kicking the panties off my ankles and to the floor. "I wanna squirt for you, Dean."

My words did the trick for him and he quickly dropped to his knees and moved his fingers from my clit and replaced them with his tongue.

"Oh," I moaned loudly. He didn't waste time and quickly began circling my clit with the tip of his tongue while he inserted a finger into me, my walls gladly sucking it in.

"Fuck, your pussy's tight," He told me before sucking my clit into his mouth and thrusting his finger in and out of me.

"Oh God, Dean," I moaned, looking down at him. His hungry eyes looked up at me as he moaned and sucked on my clit, the vibrations making the burning inside me grow. I could see my juices running down his hand and leak onto the table.

Shit, I'm close, I thought, feeling the burning in me getting hotter fast. Letting out another moan, I reached down and grabbed the back of his head and pushed his face into me, grinding onto him and feeling his finger go deeper into me.

"Yes, yes, yes," I whimpered, grinding harder on his face.

I suddenly felt another finger squeezing into me, and he thrusted both of them faster into me. I could feel his finger tips curling inside me, hitting that special spot inside of me that made my eyes roll back.

“Oh fuck, Dean. I’m gonna cum,” I moaned, the burning getting hotter with each thrust.

“Cum, babygirl,” he said against my clit, and again, I followed his demand and came. While my body was rocked with waves of pleasure, Dean kept thrusting his fingers into me, his fingertips hitting my G-spot over and over, and I could feel the small stinging of overstimulation beginning.

“Dean,” I whimpered, trying to close my legs, but he kept his fingers in me. He suddenly stood up and wrapped his hand around my neck again, squeezing it slightly. The feel of his strong hand squeezing me made the fire that’s started in my body burn harder and almost too much for me.

“Dean, please,” I pleaded with him, not knowing whether I wanted more or wanted less from him, and put up a hand against his chest to push him away.

“Let it happen, sweetheart,” he told me and I could see a cocky look in his eyes. 

Before I could ask what he was cocky about, the most amazing pleasure washed over my body, taking my voice and breathing away. It was so good and so strong, I could barely keep my eyes open. I could feel my pussy gushing juices all over his hand and onto the table.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetie,” I heard him say, but his voice sounded suddenly distant.

I could feel him still thrusting his fingers in and out of me and I lowered my hand to try to move his hand away. The pleasure was too much and I felt like if he kept going, I might actually pass out from the pleasure. 

With one last thrust, he slowly took his finger out of me and let go of my neck. I felt him caress the side of my face and I looked at him to see him licking his fingers clean of my juices. 

“How was it,” he asked, taking his fingers out, a small grin on his lips.

“I think we both know the answer to that,” I replied, about to move off the table, but stopped when I felt how wet and weak my legs were. I looked down to see that my thighs, some of the table, and a little bit of my shirt was covered in my juices. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” he said, cockily, and I looked back up to see him fully grinning at me. “I’m that good.”

“Shut up,” I moved my legs off the table and tried to stand up, but almost fell at how weak they still were, but before I could fall down, Dean had caught me and held me up against him, wrapping an arm around my middle. 

“You alright,” he asked. I nodded at him and noticed that the cockiness he just had was quickly replaced by a nervousness that was rare to see on the older Winchester, almost reminding me of a scared teenager. “You alright with this? With us?”

“Yeah.”

“And you're alright with us being...more than friends?”

“Dean,” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his nervousness. “You just made me squirt for the first time on the table. Yes, I want to be more than friends.”

“Oh,” he chuckled and I was glad to see that I eased his nervousness. Looking up at him, I couldn’t remember why I waited so long to do this with him.

“Wanna go to my room?”

“Um,” I looked over my shoulder to the table to see the puddle of my juices sitting on the edge. “Maybe we should clean the table, then leave. And be quiet. Don’t wanna wake Sam.”

“Too late.” 

We both turned to see a tired and angry Sam looking at us in pajamas in the entryway. His hair was all over his head and he had bags under his eyes. 

“Clean it, then go to sleep. No more tonight.”

“Okay,” I told him. Usually I would feel embarrassed, but now I’m just glad me and Dean finally got together and I looked up at him to see he wasn’t embarrassed either. We were both alright with this.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #supernatural x black!reader #spn x black!reader #spn x woc!reader #spn x female!reader #supernatural smut #spn smut #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x black!reader #dean winchester x woc!reader #dean winchester lemon #spn lemon #dean winchester x female reader #black!reader #woc!reader

[bruhhxiao]

𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑝?

Simon ghost riley x fem!reader

Summary: He helped you after your grocery bag broke. (!Biker Simon!)

>au starting note; I apologize if there are some grammar mistakes, English is my first language!

It was around 18pm Simon was on his way home after he gave Johnny a ride to his flat, his attention was taken by you. You were on your knees on the cold and humid cement trying to organize your lost groceries meanwhile people ignored you as they walked beside on the sidewalk. At first he thought you could find a way to go home by yourself but when he saw you taking your jacked off using it as a beg he pulled over helped you get the groceries.

You thanked him but when he met your gaze he couldn’t ignore the redness that was now forming on your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

“Did you call someone to come get you?” He asked because he noticed your buzzing phone and it was one of your roommates.

“No actually I think I can handle it by myself sir…”

He stood in front of you taking his leather jacket off.

“I’ll give you a ride back home. Take this.” He just lean the jacket to you.

You take it. He helps you getting behind him, he tells you to place your jacket full of groceries on your lap and wrap you arms around his waist so you did.

“How much distant?”

It was a bit distant but he still wanted to take you home safely. “Why don’t you take the car?” He said before starting the engine.

“I don’t own one, sir.”

“Simon. Call me Simon” You wrap your arms around him and give him indication to your house. The ride was calm there wasn’t to much traffic but it felt like time has stopped after you rested your head on his back.

Once he killed the engine you realize you were parked in front of you house. You rush to get off, Careful, Careful he said offering you his hand that you didn’t take because you were busy taking the helmet off.

You thank him and he bows with his head. You gave him back his jacket telling him how grateful you were.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” You said immediately when we was about to jump on his motorcycle.

He didn’t say anything he just shook his head and started the engine but there was a feeling, you didn’t want him to go yet. You told him your name and he looked back before putting his helmet on.

“Nice to meet you…”

From that day you didn’t see him anymore. You were watching tv in the living room, it was a lazy Saturday night and you’re roommate was annoying by asking how hot she looked in her new dress.

“This guy asked me out.. I think he’s rich so I’ll give it a try” she said twirling around the hallway.

“You have work tomorrow don’t get too high…” You rolled you’re eyes. She is a nice person but she is annoying sometimes.

The sound of your phone woke you up. You answer wiping your drool, it was a male voice and the Scottish accent was strong. Apparently your roommate was really drunk she couldn’t stand straight.

“I’m sorry my lady but me and my friend came with a motorcycle and it’s a bit too dangerous drive her in that state” He tried to speak with an British accent, is he drunk too? Maybe but the most important thing was that she wasn’t in good hands. You put some decent clothes on and walked to the bar, the only fortunate thing of that night was that the location wasn’t too far.

“Here is she..” The Scottish guy was waiting out side holding your roommate. You take her and thank him.

“Yo Ghost shall we go too?”

I turned around to see the man wearing his helmet while a huge guy with covered face walked towards the vehicle. “He reminds me of someone…” you thought and you were sure you met him somewhere and you knew that maybe he was thinking the same because he couldn’t stop staring at you. He was about to start the engine.

“Are you Simon by any chance?” You turned to them.

“Yeh Ghost I didn’t know you were into cute girls mate.”

He immediately explained how he may you and right after he started the engine.

“That’s not nice of you Lieutenant.. I’m Johnny pleased to meet you miss. Next time why don’t you join us huh? Your friend gave me her number we can meet sometime, is that alright with ya?”

You could feel Simon’s piecing gaze on you, electricity running through your spine. You looked back at Johnny with a soft smile.

“I’d like that but unfortunately I’m not into partying…” you tried to find an excuse, you knew in that moment Simon was bothered.

“Who said it’s gonna be a party?”

Hi people! I’m new writer on this platform and I was thinking about making a series for this story!

My bad English isn’t my first language so I apologize if there are some mistakes!

#ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost simon riley x reader #soap cod #soapghost #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod mw2

[candycandy00]

If you’re accepting requests, shiggy with a shy reader? How compatible would he be with one one shy? I know some people think he needs someone who isn’t shy to challenge him but it depends on the fic I think!

Note: I received two requests for Shigaraki with a shy reader, so I'm thinking they came from the same person. If not, they're so similar that I've just combined them into one. Hope that's okay! I also turned this into a holiday fic, considering the time of year I'm writing this.

Smut. 18+.

“A Christmas present for Tomura-kun?” Toga asks, sitting across from you in the kitchen of the Mountain Villa. She thinks for a moment, then says, “What about a new hoodie? The one he’s wearing is kinda gross.”

“Get him a new game,” Spinner says, standing near the stove, one burner on, seeming to enjoy the heat. “I can give you a list of ones he might like.”

“Get him some new red shoes!” Twice offers. “He goes through those really fast!”

Mr. Compress sighs and shakes his head as if these are all bad ideas. He gently pats your shoulder and says, “If you really want to give him something special, why not give yourself?”

You blink in confusion. “Myself?”

He nods, his smile visible through the hole in the black mask he wears under the white one. “Get a giant box, put a big red bow on your head, and jump out of the box on Christmas day.”

You hear a derisive snort of laugher and turn to look at the doorway, where Dabi is standing with his arms crossed. “Everything has to be a production with you, huh?”

Mr. Compress frowns at him. “Well, what’s your idea?”

Dabi shrugs. “Just be waiting in his room naked. No props needed.”

You blush crimson and look at the floor. “I-I could never..”

“Aw, don’t tease her too much, Dabi-kun,” Toga says, though her eyes are shining with mischief as she watches you squirm and fidget, “you know how shy she is!”

“I was asked for my idea, I gave it. I still think it’s better than any of yours.”

Soon after, Shigaraki walks into the kitchen to get a snack, and the conversation is hastily hushed up. The others make excuses to leave the room, and suddenly you’re alone with him. You’re not exactly sure what to call your relationship with him. You like him, he told you he likes you, and you spend time together when you can, playing video games or just watching tv. He’s even kissed you a few times. But you’ve never gone any further than that.

You’ve always been extremely shy, to the point that you had trouble even looking at the other members of the League at first. Over time, you reached the point that you could talk to them, but you’re still uncomfortable if you’re alone with any of them besides Shigaraki, and sometimes even with him. You’re quiet by nature, but so is he, so sometimes awkward silences last way too long. He doesn’t seem bothered by them though. Meanwhile you get nervous, fidget, and try desperately to think of something to say.

With Christmas rapidly approaching, you want to give Shigaraki a gift, but you’re stumped as to what that gift should be. That’s why you asked the rest of the League. The ideas they had were fine (well, most of them), but things like hoodies and shoes and even video games are a little too impersonal for you. In all honesty, you’d really like to give a gift that’s romantic in nature.

You’ve been wanting to take your relationship with Shigaraki further, but you’re way too shy to actually say something or, heaven forbid, make a move on him. You’ve been hoping he would make a move on you, but so far he’s seemingly been content with kisses and occasionally falling asleep on the couch with your heads leaning on each other. You’ve even started wondering if he even wants anything more from you. What if he just doesn’t find you that attractive? What if he has a low sex drive? What if he has NO sex drive? Wondering about it is killing you. Maybe Mr. Compress had the right idea. Maybe you should just throw caution to the wind and make a dramatic gesture. At least then you’d know where you stand.

Yes, that’s what you’ll do. On Christmas, you’ll know for sure how Shigaraki feels, for better or worse.

You decide on a combination of the ideas given to you by Mr. Compress and Dabi. Too many props and a big production would just make things more confusing. So you order exactly one item online: A giant red silk ribbon with a tag attached. One designed to tie around your body, covering only the most important parts, and end in a big bow at your chest. The tag attached reads: “Open me! I’m yours!”

When it arrives, you lock your door and try it on. It takes a few tries to get the bow just right, but when you’re finished, you stand in front of your mirror and look at the result. It shows so much! The thought of Shigaraki seeing you like this makes you blush like crazy. But the longer you wear the ribbon, the more you notice that the silky red fabric between your legs makes you feel sexy, maybe even a little confident.

On Christmas day, you tell Shigaraki to meet you in your room so you can give him his present. You tie on the ribbon, fix the tag just right, and then pull a long coat on to cover it all up. The minutes before Shigaraki arrives are misery, as you grow more and more nervous, at one point even deciding to back out of this whole thing. But no, you have to go through with it. You have to know where your relationship is going, where it stands.

When he does walk into the room, your heart begins racing immediately. Your face is red, you just know it. But you’ve come this far, you might as well follow through. Once he’s inside and has shut the door behind him, you tell him to close his eyes. He shrugs and does as told. You take a deep breath, gather your courage, and slip the coat off, tossing it onto the floor. Just standing here in the room with him, with his eyes closed, is giving you goosebumps. You hold your head high and say, “Alright, you can open your eyes now.”

Shigaraki opens his eyes, and they immediately go wide as he takes in the sight of you, standing there nearly naked, He’s speechless, not saying a word as his red eyes travel up and down your body. He doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t step toward you, doesn’t reach out to open his “present”. He just stares. The seconds tick by as you stand there, heart pounding, waiting for him to react.

But nothing happens.

When you can’t take the shame anymore, you turn around, grab a blanket from your bed, and wrap yourself up in it, coving your stupid attempt to be romantic. Then, at a loss for what to do or where to go, you run into your closet and shut the door.

How could you be so stupid? How could you humiliate yourself like that? Of course he didn’t want such a disgusting gift! Tears fill your eyes and stream down your face as you huddle in the closet, praying he’ll just leave so you can cry in peace.

Instead, the closet door opens. Shigaraki is standing there, looking extremely confused. “What are you doing?” he asks.

When you try to speak, your voice breaks. “Please j-just leave me alone!”

“I don’t get it. I thought you were giving yourself to me as a gift for Christmas. Now you’re telling me to leave?”

You turn away from him. “It’s obvious you didn’t like the idea! You didn’t try to open me at all! You must think I’m hideous!”

There’s genuine confusion in Shigaraki’s voice when he says, “What are you talking about? I was surprised, and I just wanted to enjoy the view for a minute.”

You slowly raise up and step out of the closet. “So… you don’t think I’m hideous?”

He grins. “I better take another look, just to be sure.”

You let him reach up and slide the blanket off your shoulders, where it pools on the floor around your feet. He stares at you again, but this time you can see a faint blush on his face. You see him read the tag, and then touch the end of the ribbon, holding it with his thumb and one finger. His eyes shift to your face, which has gone red again. You’re so nervous you can barely breathe. He gives the ribbon a light tug, and the entire thing comes loose, falling off your body and leaving your completely bare.

He stares again, his eyes seeming to linger on your breasts, and you fight the urge to run back into the closet. No one besides your doctor has seen you naked since you were being bathed by your mother. But Shigaraki reaches out and runs two fingers along your neck, down your shoulder, over your collar bone, between your breasts. You can hear his breaths coming shorter and quicker as his thumb brushes over one hard nipple, making you hiss in surprise.

“If you’re my present, does that mean I can do anything I want to you?” he asks, a small grin on his face.

You nod as he begins exploring with the fingers on his other hand. “Yes,” you breathe out.

He leads you over to your bed and gently pushes you onto it, then pulls off his hoodie and the shirt beneath it, exposing his toned abdomen and chest. You can’t help staring at him, and you understand now how he must have felt when you first took off the coat. It’s mesmerizing, seeing someone you love naked for the first time.

Shigaraki unbuttons his pants as he climbs onto the bed. He reaches down between your legs and uses two fingers to explore inside you, then gently strokes your clit. You gasp and open your legs even further as he smears your own wetness all over your entrance.

He uses one hand to pull his already hard cock out of his open pants and says, “I can’t wait anymore,” in a desperate voice. You look in him the eyes, watching his cloud with desire, and you nod your head. The next moment, you feel him slowly but firmly pressing himself into you. It hurts, like you expected, but Shigaraki is surprisingly gentle, taking it slow, gradually stretching you open around him until he’s all the way in. For a moment, he doesn’t move, then he slowly pulls back out before shoving back in again.

The thrusts are slow at first, but he picks up speed until he hits a nice rhythm. Beneath him, you’re writhing on the bed, feeling his skin against yours, smelling his cologne, listening to the way his breaths hitch in his throat. You want more of this. You want more of him. You lift your head up and kiss his lips, tasting him as he moves in and out of you, one of his hands carefully groping your breast.

With all your senses on fire with lust, a burst of pleasure runs over you, and you reflexively clench yourself around him as you climax. Shigaraki groans and then cums inside you, his free hand suddenly gripping your hip with thumb and three fingers as his hair falls over his face. Afterwards, he breathes heavily for a few moments and then leans over onto his side and pulls you close.

“Sorry, I didn’t have a condom and I forgot to pull out,” he says, his voice sounding tired.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I said you could do anything you want to me. I’m your present, after all.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he closes his eyes. “Merry Christmas,” he says drowsily, leaning his head over onto your pillow, his face just inches from yours.

You plant a small kiss on his cheek and say, “Merry Christmas, Tomura.”

#Shigaraki x Reader #Shigaraki x You #Shigaraki Tomura #Shigaraki #Shigaraki Smut #Shigaraki Fanfiction #BNHA Fanfiction

[lorcandidlucienwill]

Quotes about Elain in ACOSF: Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” “Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.” “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

“Why not tell Elain about the baby’s sex first?” “She discovered the pregnancy. I wanted you to know this part before anyone else.” Elain had always wanted to visit the continent to study the tulips and other famed flowers, but her imagination had stretched no further. Also the direct contrast between Nesta and Cassian's thoughts: Elain was like a dog, loyal to whatever master kept her fed and in comfort.

Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

We see Night is wrong for Elain and Spring is right: Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed. So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her. Too bad her sister refused to see her. Nesta would have told Elain to visit this place.

We see Nesta taking the rose carving made for Elain: Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and Nesta held love in her own heart as she pulled the small, carved rose from her pocket and set it upon the gravestone. A permanent marker of the beauty and good he’d tried to bring into the world.

And then there's her mate Lucien: He had to give Lucien credit: the male was somehow able to move between his three roles—an emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin—and still dress immaculately.

“Easy,” Lucien repeated, and flame sizzled in his russet eye. The flame, the surprising dominance within it, hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten—

“No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit.

Koschei said, “Tell my Vassa I’m waiting.” Mor failing to form agreements in Vallahan and its implications: Indeed, Mor’s eyes shuttered. “They don’t want to sign the new treaty.” “We are weakened—all seven courts. Even more at odds with each other and with the rest of the world since the war. If Montesere and Vallahan march on us, if Rask joins with them, we will not withstand it. Not with Beron already turned against us and allied with Briallyn. Not if Tamlin cannot master his guilt and grief and become what he once was.

“But you and yours have more important things to think about than ancient history. My father is furious that his ally is dead, but he’s not deterred. Koschei remains in play, and Beron might very well be stupid enough to establish an alliance with him, too. I hope that whatever Morrigan is doing in Vallahan will counteract the damage my father will unleash.” And Spring has fallen into disrepair and Beron wants it: “They say a beast prowls these lands now. A beast with keen green eyes and golden fur. Some people think the beast has forgotten his other shape, so long has he spent in his monstrous form. And though he roams these lands, he does not see or care for the neglect he passes, the lawlessness, the vulnerability. Even his manor has fallen into disrepair, half-eaten by thorns, though rumors fly that he himself destroyed it.” Eris’s fingers closed around the petals. “Who says he wants land on the continent?” He surveyed the orchard—as if to make a point. Silence fell. Rhys murmured, “Beron knows another war that pits Fae against Fae would be catastrophic. Many of us would be wiped out entirely. Especially …” Rhys tilted his head back to take in the apple blossoms. “Especially those of us who are weakened. And when the dust settles, there would be at least one court left vacant, its lands bare for the taking.”

And a bonus...from the bonus chapter. He slept as well as could be expected, but when Azriel returned to the river house to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain's necklace amid the pile.

"But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she'd disappoint you all." "But I also think we haven't seen all she has to offer." "Let's focus on helping one sister before we start on the other." Make of that what you will 🤷‍♀️

#elucien's book is next i don't make the rules #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elucien #pro elucien #this isn't even all the quotes but it'll get too long lol

[captain-mj]

WEREBEAR KÖNIG ANON HERE, I'VE BEEN MEANING TO SCREAM ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE PART 2. Thank you so much for writing it! Of course I am here to request a part 3 too, maybe even for horror night (no pressure to get it in in for that tho, I am already excited for any of the monster/horror stuff coming out that night) I need them to go running in the woods together, fuck, them intuitively helping each other out in their own way can be so soft and so personal. KÖNIG GIVING HIM HIS FUCKING HOOD. I love the dynamic you started building here, Ghost needs and deserves a pack and people he can trust and rely outside of himself. Seriously, man, thank you for this.

Yes Yes Yes!! Part 1 and Part 2

Also I told myself I should post more and then I checked and although I post a little less, everything is like twice as long as it usually is and I feel less bad

König had gotten his hood back the next day, washed and dried. At first, he had worried that Ghost had put it through a machine and it had been shrunk but upon further inspection, he could see it had been hand washed and air dried. He brought it to his face and breathed in the smell of the soap. It wasn't his. It smelled like the one Ghost used on his clothes. Something about the thought made König's thoughts spiral. 

It was close to winter, meaning König was getting tired. Part of his body wanted to eat more and get stocked up for the winter, but he doubted Ghost would let him just take up real estate in the bedroom like that. He'd also need to ask for the time off and extra rations and dozens of other little things. It was hard to explain this to his instincts, but he was a human at the end of the day and he could just ignore them. Well, most of them. 

As much as he appreciated the gesture, Ghost had made the hood almost unbearable to wear. Everytime he breathed, it smelled like Ghost. He’d need to rewash it because this was hell. People kept trying to talk to him and all he could think about was his Lieutenant and what he was doing and how he was feeling. 

Then, the question reappeared. How long had it been since Ghost had shifted? It had been vaguely explained to him that Ghost was rather wild while shifted. Dangerous and lethal. It’s why he was usually put on missions where it wasn’t needed to shift at all or where his nature could be used. Seeing how he went for the killing bite with no hesitation, even with the small rapport they had between them, König had no doubt it was true. The soft look in Ghost’s eyes when he shifted back showed he desperately needed to shift more. It wasn’t particularly healthy to stay locked in as a human all the time. 

This led to a rabbit hole of thoughts though. If Ghost shifted, he’d need someone nearby to help him. It would have to be König of course. And that meant König would be near him. Both undressed. 

His face turned so red he was worried people would see through the mask somehow. Ghost had been so pretty when he had seen him. He wanted to see more. So much more. 

König made the decision without really thinking about it. He knew if he kept thinking about it, he wouldn’t do it so he had to ask as soon as possible. 

“Ghost.”

“Yes, König?” Ghost looked up from where he was practicing his sniping. He had such light eyelashes. 

“Do you want to go out tonight?”

Ghost paused his movements on the gun and moved so he was laying on his back and looking directly up at König. “What?”

“Tonight. Do you want to go to the woods?”

“Why?”

König shrugged, anxiety creeping in. “To shift. Blow off steam, ja?”

Ghost continued to stare at him for a few minutes before nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Seriously?”

“Ask me again and I’ll change my mind.”

König quickly just nodded before grabbing a gun and sitting next to him. They were both excellent at hitting the targets, but König twitched occasionally. He’d bounce his leg or shake his arm like he had something on it. Ghost watched him do these things, thinking of how it was clear why they wouldn’t let him be a sniper, but also finding the need to move rather amusing. 

“Sorry…” König sounded sheepish. 

“It’s fine.” Ghost blew the head off of one of the dummies. “Ah. They really need to improve the quality of these. They’re rather bad.” He got up and stretched, joints popping as he did. He offered König his hand and he gladly accepted, letting him pull him up. They went their separate ways and it wasn’t until after dinner they met up again. 

“So how do you usually leave base?” Ghost appeared next to König who luckily did not jump. 

König hummed. “Usually just walk out the back door.” 

Ghost nodded. “Fair. Doubt anyone would try to stop a big guy like you.” He meant it as a compliment. König didn’t know how to feel about it but he nodded. 

Ghost followed König, looking around nervously. It was odd, being switched like this. König walked around confidently. Ghost blamed everything he was feeling on the fact that he’d be shifted. 

God. 

He’d be shifted. 

Ghost hadn’t thought this through. 

König led him to his favorite spot, a thickly wooded area that had a few paths that made it easier walk around when he was a bear. He, again refusing to think, started to undress. 

Ghost stared and he let his eyes roam over König’s back. Thick scars from claws wrapped around his sides, most likely from grappling with other animals. A few bites here and there. And then once the hood and mask was removed, he saw the thick scars again. Now that he could take a good look, even with the moonlight making it hard, it was clear that it was from a collar. Ghost slowly took off his gloves and then his jacket. His hands shook when he went to remove more clothing. 

“Stay turned around. I’m not out here to let you ogle me.” Ghost grumbled at him. 

König put his hands behind his back and stayed at attention. 

Ghost pulled off his shirt and then his boots. He kicked off his pants and shifted. 

König heard the thump of paws and subsequent growling and took that as a cue to shift as soon as possible. They looked at each other and König tensed, just in case the wolf decided to brawl. He was a bear so it wouldn’t be the most intelligent thing to do, but cornered dogs and all.

Ghost jumped at him, slamming their heads together before jumping back again and barking. He slammed his paws down and König was bewildered. Maybe he should’ve read up on wolf mannerisms before doing this. 

Ghost barked loudly to get his attention before trotting around dramatically. His tail wagged and König realized he was trying to play. There were so many thoughts in his brain but he ignored them all to lumber after Ghost. He had to be careful. Ghost was big, but he was still bigger and he really didn’t want to accidentally hurt him and ruin the first time he had shifted for fun in a while. 

Ghost ran off and König chased after him. He couldn’t do sharp turns too well but when Ghost noticed, he did them less, trying to keep them in pace with each other instead of running off. König eventually managed to trick him and pin him down. 

Ghost’s tail wagged harder but he bit König’s limb to make it clear he did not want to be pinned. He rolled in the grass and looked… happy. 

König rolled next to him and wiggled so the grass would scratch his back a little. The stars were pretty. 

Pretty soon, Ghost was up and at ‘em again, trying to tussle with him.

Their playfighting was a little awkward but they were having fun. König noticed Ghost letting him win rather easily and wondered why. He stretched and yawned. Ghost jumped back and his ears went down, staring at König. He calmed down as soon as König closed his mouth again. Something about his teeth… Too big. 

Despite how much fun they were having, they couldn’t stay out there all night. They still had things to do in the morning, so regretfully, they had to shift back. 

Ghost’s body popped as he shifted back. He groaned and twisted to make the rest of his back pop, still lying on the ground. 

König felt awful. Horrible. Ghost was vulnerable. The soft look on his face. 

But they were shifted and they were right next to each other and then König’s lips were on Ghost’s. It was soft. Sweet. Ghost’s eyes fluttered closed and he didn’t move just yet. 

König pulled away, already ready to apologize when he saw how cold Ghost’s eyes were. How blank the expression was. But he was yanked down before he could think about it. Their lips met again and König gasped into it. Ghost’s mouth moved against his own, tongue pushing past his lips to map him out. 

König slowly put his hands on Ghost’s body, gently touching him like he’d shatter or snap. Ghost had no such reservations as he bit König’s lip and then ran his hands down his back. He yanked him away by his hair, feeling such a rush at seeing the bigger man let him. 

“I want you. Right now.”

König blushed bright red. “We don’t have lube. Or protection.” 

Ghost flipped them over and grabbed his coat. “Vaseline works right? I’m clean. Get checked every six months and I haven’t slept with anyone sense.” He forced König’s legs open, glad he hadn’t let him get dressed yet. König

König nodded, covering his eyes. His whole body had turned as red as strawberry and Ghost got the urge to bite him like one. So he did. He made pretty indents of his own teeth. 

König squirmed and panted as he worked him open, not going easy on him. Ghost growled at him. “You’re too tight. Relax.” 

König panted softly and tried, but it was a bit difficult. He clenched around Ghost’s fingers in a death grip and Ghost slowed down. He made circles on König’s hips with his thumb and moved his fingers steadily instead. Once he found his prostate, he brushed it gently, watching König shiver and arch his back. König bit his lip hard and he tried to press back against him. Ghost didn’t let him do more than brush against it, working him open a lot easier now that König had a goal in mind. When he pulled out, he thought König would start crying. 

More vaseline and then he was carefully lining up with him. König grabbed his hand tight and his legs wrapped around his waist. Ghost pushed in slowly and had to pause to catch his breath. 

König was gorgeous. All littered with scars and freckles and muscle. His tummy was a little soft, perfect to grab and his waist was definitely… what did they call it? Slutty little waist? 

But he was also deathly tight. It was almost painful but König whimpered and Ghost needed to hear more of those. He slid in a little more and König let out a shuddering breath, looking anywhere but Ghost. 

“So big…” His accent had thickened and the words were barely comprehensible. 

“That all you can take?” Ghost meant it genuinely. He wasn’t exactly small and he didn’t want to hurt König. 

König only heard it as a challenge. “No.” He pulled him closer and Ghost grunted as he bottomed out. Those damned whimpers. It took too much self control to not start rocking his hips into him. Self control Ghost didn’t have. 

König’s hands gripped Ghost’s hips and at first, he thought he was trying to make him stop but he just held on to him. He brushed his sweet spot again and König moaned and then buried his face in Ghost’s shoulder to hide. Ghost learned from the prep and moved slowly, now hitting it dead on and being steady. 

König was breathing pretty hard and kept clenching desperately. He clearly wanted more, but Ghost was going to make him ask for it. Took longer than he was expecting, but König was anxious at the best of times. 

“Please, Simon.” 

Ghost slammed into him and König bit him in retaliation. He refused to make any more noises besides the whimpers he couldn’t choke down. Ghost’s arms wrapped around his waist as they held on to each other, being more feral than they should be. More feral than they had the excuse to be. König’s raked his nails down Ghost’s back, noting the scent of blood but ignoring it. Ghost moaned when he did and nuzzled against him encouragingly. They found each other’s rhythm, slotting together like puzzle pieces. 

König pushed one of Ghost’s hands to his cock and it was embarrassing how little he needed to finish. Ghost pulled out and finished on his thighs. He hadn’t asked to cum inside and he didn’t feel like asking now. They panted for a bit and Ghost shook his head. 

“I shouldn’t… If I cro-” König yanked him down to kiss him. Words didn’t seem to work well with Ghost so he was trying this instead. 

Worked perfectly.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #König x ghost #König

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Are my parents and I the assholes for insinuating that my aunt and uncle's dog should be put down?

I (21F) hate one of my aunt and uncle's current dogs. They rescue old racing dogs and have done for like 15 years now. Their first two dogs I loved. First one was a bitch in both senses of the word, but she was funny and well behaved when it was important. Second one was a true gentle giant and a lovely boy. The second pair they've adopted though are a nightmare.

Alice, the current bitch they have, has suffered some form of trauma in her past. There are three years missing from her medical history and she's got some scars, so we'll never know exactly what happened but something did. She's a very nervous dog. She can be a sweetie, and they were making progress with her until they got the new one. Alice, however, does what more dominant dogs around her do, which has become a problem.

Enter Blue. Blue is genuinely dangerous. Blue snaps with no previous warning and tries to kill things. My family all know about dogs, this isn't us misreading his body language, he is giving no warning then going for the throat. He's taken a particular dislike to mum (who is usually a bit of a dog whisperer) and has got her in the hand a few times. Blue also tries to kill any dog who doesn't share his breed. We were in a restaurant, sitting outside, Blue saw a Beagle and before any of us could do anything he'd pulled my uncle backwards off of his chair and dragged him towards this poor dog. My uncle is a big man, 6" and not thin, so you can imagine the strength it took for Blue to drag him like a doll (the Beagle and owner got away DW).

I've disliked Blue for a while, but what made me actually hate him was that, when my aunt and uncle came to see us just after our own elderly dog had passed, Blue walked into our sitting room and pissed on the carpet. He's house trained and has never done this before. I think he was doing it territorially because he could smell that our dog was dead. I've never wanted to kick an animal before, but I did then and had to excuse myself before I caused a scene.

Cut to yesterday. We were in the pub having a family meal. Blue is muzzled now in public after the last restaurant incident. There was a family sitting across the room from us with a very little girl, 3 or 4 years old I'd say. She was looking at Alice and trying to get her attention from across the room. As her mum got up to take her to the toilet, the girl pointed at our table and asked to see the dogs. Her mum asked us if it was okay. My aunt agreed. The little girl came over. Alice immediately hid under the table.

My aunt was like "ooh sorry, she's shy, why don't you say hello to Blue".

Blues head pops up. The mum sees he's wearing a muzzle and tries to pull her daughter away from him but the kid was too quick and went to pat him on the head. He was super chill with it, pressed into her palm like he wanted harder pets, then with no warning growl, no tensed up body language, nothing, just lunges for the kid.

Obviously she's terrified. The mum is terrified and pulls her away. My uncle grabs hold of Blue's leash and my aunt is ineffectually going "oh no blue bad boy" over and over. My parents jumped up to help the mum and the little girl. I grabbed Alice so she couldn't start copying Blue. We all got kicked out of the pub.

We were standing on the street outside when my parents and I started laying into my aunt about how irresponsible that was. She is like "he'll never become accustomed to humans if he's locked away". Dad shouted that he doesn't get to maul someone to learn that lesson. She scoffed and said he had the muzzle. I said it takes one piece of brittle plastic before he gets put down. My aunt told us all to fuck off and stormed off in the opposite direction. My uncle took Alice from me and followed her.

My aunt made a passive aggressive series of Facebook posts about how all dogs deserve care, and how everyone lashes out when exposed to trauma, then blocked mum (only Facebook user in our house).

I don't think we're the assholes, but I know I'm very biased, because I genuinely hate that dog and would be quite happy to hear it had moved on, whether that be to a different home or the afterlife, I'm not picky.

So awta?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[cosmerelists]

AITA Posts on Roshar: Part 2

[You can find Part 1 here!]

Once again, we are imagining that the Reddit forum “Am I The Asshole” exists on Roshar, and that the main characters from Stormlight like to post on it. What might those posts look like?

1. AITA for talking about poop on a first date?

I really need help here, Reddit. I (LE/M/24) am not good with women--well, I’m very good at flirting with them and getting dates, but I am NOT good with keeping them. I’ve never had a relationship last longer than a few months, and my dad is always me grief about it. In fact, it got to the point where my cousin arranged a casual for me with a woman (LE/F/17) I’ve never met. So I’m engaged now! But it is only a casual, and if this woman does not like me, the engagement isn’t going to last. I’m lowkey stressed about this, because she’s really pretty and really smart and I think I like her a lot.

Okay but to get to the actual situation. I arranged a sort of first date with the woman I’m engaged to (I’ll call her S) at this wine house. Classic, right? And I was telling her about all of my heroic battles and stuff, like you do, and she seemed to be pretty into it. But then suddenly S interrupted my battle story to ask me how I, well, poop while wearing shardplate. So that’s the first thing--she brought up the poop thing first! So I answered, of course, since she asked, but then she was asking MORE poop-related questions, and I ended up admitting that yes, I have shat myself in Shardplate on multiple occasions. My shard-plate wearing bros know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, weirdly, I felt like the date went well?? But later I was telling people about it, and they all said I DEFINITELY messed up because no woman wants a man to talk about poop on a first date.

Plz help. I really like her. AITA? Should I apologize?

2. AITA for wanting to destroy evil?

Humans are so weird about it! I’m a sword (NE/NG/1000) that was literally created to destroy evil! But every time I destroy evil, people say things like “Oh god the bodies” or “please stop trying to eat my soul” or “I am going to lock you in a closet. You are a menace.” What gives? AITA? 

3. AITA for being against murder?

In before “but we’re at war.” I know we’re at war. When isn’t there a war? The fact of the matter is--violence is never the answer. You can’t save someone through killing. I know--I am a surgeon (oh right--DE/M/50), so my business is saving people.

I have one son (DE/M/20) (my other son died). I raised him to be a surgeon, and he was really good at it. And before anyone says “why did you force your son to be like you,” I didn’t FORCE him. He wanted to be a surgeon. But he ended up being drafted into war, and then he never came home. Well he did, technically. But it wasn’t him. It was a murderer.

He is ALWAYS killing people. He says he’s a soldier now, and not only does he keep killing people, but he keeps killing people in front of me! We’re occupied right now, and the other day, some of the enemy soldiers came to my surgery and wanted to move some of the unconscious patients. Just move them. No evidence that they intended them harm. But my son FREAKED out and MURDERED the solider who came to take the patients! Just straight up murdered him! In a place of healing! And when I told him this was NOT okay, he grabbed his unconscious friend (who definitely needs medical care) and ran away. And now nobody knows where he is.

My wife is pissed at me. I can tell she thinks I drove away our son. But AITA for not wanting my son to be a murderer??

4. AITA for saving my friend?

I (DE/M/20) am a soldier in an occupied city. I’m also one of the radiants, and almost all of the other radiants in the city have fallen mysteriously unconscious. My dad is a doctor, and he’s been watching over them. Only my dad doesn’t believe in resisting occupation; he’s a pacifist--like, an extreme one. So when the enemy soldiers showed up to take away the unconscious radiants, I resisted. Because I knew what they were going to do with them--they were going to kill them (or worse). Otherwise, they would have just left them there. And one of the unconscious radiants is a dear friend of mine, a man who stuck with me through some of the worst moments of my life, and I wasn’t going to just stand aside and let him be taken. So I fought back. And I managed, barely, to stop them. Then I took my friend and left so that I could hide him and protect him.

But my dad started freaking out about how I had killed someone in a place of healing, and he called me a monster. I’m not saying I’m not a monster. But I think I did the right thing in saving my friend. AITA?

Edit: Wow so apparently people found my dad’s post? 

5. AITA for stealing?

I (LE/F/17) can’t go into too much detail without potentially doxxing myself, so I will have to be vague. My brothers and I had a very rough childhood. We are talking physical abuse, mental abuse, all of it. And now both of our parents are dead, and we’re about to lose everything thanks to some bad decisions our father made. But there is one thing that might save us--there is this woman (a heathen!) who owns an item, and if it were ours instead, it would fix all of our problems. I can’t go into too much detail, so I will call it the thingamajig. 

The thing is, no one knows where the woman got the thingamajig in the first place, and it’s probably not something she should have as a heathen. She doesn’t HAVE to have it--like it isn’t keeping her alive or anything--whereas my brothers and I are in fact doomed if we don’t get one. So we decided to steal it. It’s not nice and it’s not ethical but sometimes you have to do what you have to do to survive, you know?

And it all sounded good when it was abstract, but the thing is, the woman is actually pretty cool and very pretty and once I got to know her, I didn’t even want to steal from her! But then she did something horrible. Again, I can’t get into detail, but trust me when I say it’s like “haunts your dreams forever oh god the screams” sort of horrible. So I figured--storm it. If she’s going to be terrible, then I’m going to steal from her and I’m going to save my family. So I did.

But tbh the guilt is eating me alive! She STILL hasn’t noticed that the thingamajig is gone unless she HAS noticed and she’s just waiting for me to CRACK under the pressure!

You guys have to help me--AITA?

6. AITA for being stick?

I am a stick. I am not fire. AITA?

#cosmerelists #cosmere #stormlight archive #in order: #Adolin #Nightblood #Lirin #Kaladin #Shallan #stick #LE = lighteyes #DE=darkeyes #NE=no eyes #NG = no gender

[regallibellbright]

So, I've been thinking about Toby's knives.

Well, okay, I specifically think primarily about Toby's main knife, but there's something interesting to be said about all three of the knives she "regularly" wears (silver, iron, and the new one.) All three of them are gifts. All three of them are given to her by someone expecting Toby to be a hero.

"Ms. Daye?" "Yes, Dare?" It was like trying to leave kindergartners with a babysitter. If I was lucky, they'd run out of questions before the sun went down. Maybe. "Here." She pulled a knife out of her sleeve, offering it to me. I didn't recognize the style of the blade, but if it was street legal, I'm a Kelpie. "In case you don't scream fast enough." "Good idea," I said. She looked almost disappointed by my reaction - she was still young enough for the rules against saying thank you to seem pointless. I winked, sliding the knife into my belt with the edge facing outward to keep me from cutting myself. She brightened, reading the unspoken gratitude in my eyes. She was pretty smart when she let herself be.

(Rosemary and Rue, Chapter 21, pages 239-240)

The first and most important, of course, is Dare's knife. And yet, this is a pretty minor moment. There's no sign this particular knife is special to Dare - it's mentioned earlier she's got enough weapons on her at the moment to clank. Manuel will ask for it later, claiming it was a loan, but that's the most he can say - and May, who would know, corrects him that it was a gift.

By this point, Dare's already told Toby she wants to get away from Devin and take Manuel with her, and Dare asks because Toby's already her hero. She got out. Dare doesn't get to, in the end. And so the knife that Dare all but offhandedly gave her becomes a keepsake, and one of Toby's most valued possessions. As Toby says taking it in A Local Habitation, maybe Dare's knife would help her be someone else's hero. Eventually, it does. Dare's knife is Toby's promise to herself not to fail anyone again. It's the justification she uses when she needs to go back and confront Blind Michael. (Incidentally, May tells her they can get a new knife in response. For all that she remembers being Dare, she doesn't yet understand what the knife is to Toby.) It's so tied to Toby's identity that when she loses her way home, among all the allies she can't recognize or only knows as enemies -

[Quentin] walked toward me, pausing to bend and gingerly retrieve a silver knife from the floor. It looked sharp. It also looked well-used; there were flecks of blood dried on the hilt, and streaks of something much fresher on the blade. "I'll just, um, hold this for you, for now," he said. "I promise I'll give it back when you're ready." "You can't give it back when it's not mine," I snarled. At least I could talk.

(A Killing Frost, Chapter 19, page 266)

Toby thinks at this point that she's sworn to Sylvester and can return to him, not knowing she's banished. He's not part of her way home anymore. But the knife is. When Toby can't recognize the knife, it's because she's not herself anymore. (Incidentally, it says a lot about how thoroughly Sylvester fucked up, particularly in AKF, that Shadowed Hills isn't home anymore.) On top of that, because of its link to Dare, the knife is also Home - the shitty flophouse for changelings with nowhere else to go run by an exploitative crime lord, but also the place where Toby learned to fight and survive. Sylvester's tried to teach her, but she's not the kind of knight to use a sword.

Moving on:

Then Acacia's hand was on my shoulder, and a knife was landing in the dust beside me. "Kill him or let him go, Amandine's daughter, but don't torture him," she said. "Make your choice. You haven't got much time." I looked up. "Acacia -" She looked down at me, the short tendrils of her hair curling around her face. When I distracted Blind Michael, that must have broken his hold on her, allowing her to rip herself free. "No. You let others make your choices too often. Kill him or let him live, but do it now. No more games." "I don't know what to do." "You always know. You just don't listen to yourself." She shook her head, turning, and started to walk away. The Riders parted to let her pass, still silent, still staring at me. Choices. Oh, Oberon's blood, choices. I put the candle between my teeth, keeping my knife pressed tight against Blind Michael's throat. The flame licked at my cheek, filling the air with the hot smell of singed blood as I reached out and picked up Acacia's knife. I almost dropped it when the metal hit my hand. Iron - it was made of iron. It would have to be; did I really think I could kill one of the Firstborn with silver alone? That was never an option. Not really. ... "I'm sorry," I said. "I can't forgive you." I lifted my hand, bringing the two knives together, and slammed them together down into his throat. Iron slices through faerie flesh like it's nothing but dry leaves and air. That's what iron exists to do: it kills us. Silver can do almost as well, if you use it properly. Acacia's knife was iron, Dare's was silver, and I held them together as I thrust downward. ... It didn't really matter; he was dead, I had won, and I couldn't fight anymore. No more children would suffer because of him. In the end, I'd proved myself as a child of Oberon's line, no matter how much I tried to deny it; I was a hero...

(An Artificial Night, Chapter 31, pages 295-296)

A longer passage there because Acacia's knife is by far the one that gets the most dramatic focus when Toby receives it, for obvious reasons. But it's also more significant than the moment itself. Up to this point, the closest Toby comes to considering herself a hero in more than Dare's eyes is just before the Ride, where she thinks that all her kids are safe (except Katie, who she can't save,) and that she should run before the Ride begins, even if it kills her, because at least then she'd die a hero. There's even a moment early in the book where the Luidaeg calls her a child of Oberon (five pages after Toby reflects to herself that the children of Oberon are heroes,) and Toby thinks to herself that the Luidaeg's wrong, since she still thinks she's Daoine Sidhe.

But she claims it here, because she has no option not to. You can't kill one of the great monsters of Faerie and not accept that you are, ultimately, a hero. So long as she's herself, Toby won't deny that she's a hero again.

Toby carries Acacia's knife with her regularly for the period of time between the end of An Artificial Night and the events of Late Eclipses. This is all but exactly six months - she receives it on October 31, 2010, going back to confront Michael almost immediately after being freed from the Ride. She stops being able to carry it regularly once Amandine changes her blood, in early May 2011. (I’d have to reread Late Eclipses in full to get the exact point it ends, since she’s still carrying it even though she can feel it in the scabbard at the very end.) After that, she keeps it secured at home unless her blood’s changed far enough back towards mortal that it’s safe. But she always keeps the iron knife, and she always brings it with her when she IS more mortal than fae. In The Brightest Fell, she notes the hilt fits perfectly for her. She has to throw it off her when she changes back in Chimes at Midnight, but once the False Queen’s been ousted, Toby apparently makes sure to reclaim it from the treasury. It’s not a good idea to lose a gift from one of the Firstborn, after all. And you never know when you might need to kill another one, especially when one of them is your (terrible) mother. Which she considers, to some extent, at the start of The Brightest Fell, and openly threatens in its ending to get Tybalt and Jazz back.

In short, Toby thinks of the iron knife as being a part of her life for much longer than it actually was, consistently. Part of it’s definitely that it represents the balance of her blood the way she was used to for most of her life - after all, when she gets another blood choice vision in CAM, the choice is presented as iron and silver knives for human and fae. But it’s also the knife she used to kill one of the Firstborn. Dare’s knife is Toby’s promise to be a hero going forward. Acacia’s knife is Toby choosing the title, and all the danger that comes with it. She stabs them both into Michael at the same time. When she’s rebalancing her blood, in CAM, she does the same thing to herself.

"... You do make the first cut, though, and you use my knife to do it, since yours is probably covered with something unspeakable that would despoil my beautiful creation." "Or she can use mine," said a male voice, from behind me. I turned. There was Oberon, still in his mostly-unassuming buise, the antlers on his brow small enough not to attract more attention than he wanted. He was wearing red, which was a little odd, since he wasn't part of the official wedding party, but he was also Oberon, which meant absolutely no one, not even his daughters, was going to tell him "no". And he was holding a knife by the blade, offering it to me hilt-first. I blinked, first at the blade, then at him. "Sire?" I asked. This was one of those things that probably held some great meaning and import no one had ever bothered to explain to me, assuming it wouldn't be important enough to matter. ... "I would be honored," I said, and took the knife from Oberon's hand, turning to face the cake. ... Oberon was gone when I turned around, leaving me holding his knife. I tightened my grip on the handle. I wasn't putting this one down until I could return it to its owner.

(And With Reveling, the novella/epilogue to When Sorrows Come, pages 360-361)

Today would be the first day I carried two knives to Arden's Court. The first, the silver, was familiar. The second was relatively new, although it felt natural and easy in my hand, and was made of a material I still hadn't identified. In a very real way, it was the only gift I had received on my actual wedding day. ... The knife was different. I hadn't even realized it was a gift at first; I'd thought it was just something I could use to cut the cake. But when I'd tried to return it, the Luidaeg had interceded, explaining that once her father - you know, Oberon himself - handed someone a weapon, it was a grave insult to hand it back, and did I really want to insult my grandfather, the Lord of All Faerie, on my wedding day? Was I that eager to become something genuinely unpleasant and leave Tybalt functionally a widower? I was not. And so now I carried a gift from the father of us all on my left hip, sharp and deadly and ready to be used. But no pressure.

(Be The Serpent, Chapter Two, pages 9-10)

Oberon's knife is given with so little ceremony Toby doesn't realize it's truly a gift at first, at a time where - for once - Toby does not actually need a knife for standard stabbing purposes. Oberon's knife immediately has the kind of importance that Toby isn't entirely comfortable with it, in stark contrast to how quick she is to accept the iron knife and how thoroughly the silver knife has become an extension of her identity. She's gotten used to being a hero, and even a hero of the realm - she lets/asks Aethlin to re-recognize her hero status so she can help investigate, which may or may not mean she's now a hero of the entire Westlands as a realm, not just Maples. (Neither of them bothers to specify.) But when a god gives you a knife, it's understandable to be a little hesitant about it. It's given under the most gift-like circumstances of the three - Dare's was a preemptive gift for self-defense, and Acacia's came with a direct request: Kill Blind Michael, or not, but choose. Oberon's gift is more to have than to cut that cake, even if it's not laid out until later.

Dare's knife's metal isn't actually specified in Rosemary and Rue - it's specified when things are iron in that book, but Toby never actually bothers to mention what they use instead. It comes up for the first time in A Local Habitation, instead. What's important to know at the time is that it's a knife, and a pretty unexceptional one, because Dare thinks Toby might need it. Acacia's knife, of course, is immediately singled out as iron. Oberon's knife is just left as "a knife" in And With Reveling (most importantly, a CLEAN knife,) but when it first comes up in Be The Serpent its material is explicitly mentioned as unknown. We immediately know that will be important. Oberon's children are heroes. The man himself does not give weapons lightly.

The Luidaeg waited until the door was closed behind her before she spoke again. "I saw my father hand you a knife at the wedding," she said. "I know he didn't take it back. Do you have it with you?" "I do," I said, and touched the knife belted to my hip. "Show me." Pulling the knife from its sheath felt like a promise I didn't want to be making, as if by doing so, even when asked, I was committing to using it for its intended purpose. The Luidaeg held her hand out and I dropped the handle into her palm, letting her take the blade for me. She lifted it toward the light, squinting. "Hmm," she said. "I think it's antler, rather than bone, but it should still work." "Oh, go- Wait, what?" "Antler. You know what those are, don't you?" She offered the knife back. I took it. "They're the handles on the stag. Not that I'd suggest grabbing them if you don't have a damn good reason, since the best-case scenario when you do that is being stuck on the end of a pissed-off stag. Bone would be better, but I guess Daddy has a renewable source for antler. He drops them every spring, right around Moving Day, and we used to use them for all sorts of things. There's a piece in every hope chest." "You're telling me that I've been carrying around a piece of Oberon?" I demanded, staring at the knife in my hand. The Luidaeg nodded, apparently untroubled. "He isn't good at showing people he likes them, but he must like you, if he's giving you one of those. He tends to keep them close, given what they're used for." "What's that?" "Murder, mostly." She said it so lightly, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. "Silver and iron for a Firstborn, silver and bone - or antler - for our parents. Not that we know that for sure, of course. It was just what the magic seemed to indicate, and what the oracles Saw, back when there were enough of us to ask." I kept staring at the knife. I couldn't seem to take my eyes away. "So you're telling me this knife could - could -" "Could kill Titania, if you used it correctly and caught her off-guard, yes, I am," said the Luidaeg.

(Be The Serpent, Chapter Twelve, pages 161-162)

Oberon's knife is a piece of himself, and it is the ability to kill one of the Three, if Toby dares, if Toby deems it necessary. Granted, that last part was also the case with Acacia's knife - she's Firstborn too, after all. (And of course, ANY knife has the capacity to kill a changeling like Toby starts the series, or Dare.) But coming from the King of All Faerie, it feels even more tremendous, particularly because it's given when the only one of the Three active is Oberon himself. He's actually surprised when Toby discusses killing Titania or threatens him in Be The Serpent. He isn't actually expecting her to start thinking about killing gods with her god-killing knife. Oberon doesn't think about things he knows A LOT. Toby probably gets it from him.

But he's already given her his absolute trust. You don't give someone the one kind of knife that can kill your wives and yourself if you think they would use it irresponsibly.

Toby's wedding is in many ways, in- and out of universe, a recognition of her heroism. Oberon's knife is, as well. And with it comes the burden she's locked herself into: She's the one who brought Oberon home. She's the restorer of the Roane. She's the one who will go to the Heart of Faerie. She has broken the bindings on Titania, set on her by Oberon himself, and destroyed the illusions of Titania; unraveling something of Maeve's seems as inevitable as finding her and bringing her home as well. The antler knife isn't just marking her a hero, it's marking her as something all but mythic.

Even a hero would be nervous about that responsibility.

But for all the weight it carries, it still feels natural to use, just like the iron knife. The antler knife and the role it brings with it are just as much a part of Toby as the silver and iron. And by the time she receives it, she's more than earned it already.

#violence #moreso than the sheer fact of Knife Meta implies there's a death scene under the cut #october daye #october daye series #meta #wall of text below the cut #spoilers through the most recent books; quotes through Be The Serpent #toby daye #Dare october daye #Acacia october daye #Oberon october daye #not gonna tag the other appearances here but I feel like the knife-givers deserve it

[typellblog]

Tsubasa Family - An Analysis

With this arc, we jump to an interesting point in the chronology - familiar in the sense that our narrator has already recounted its events, but nonetheless our first glimpse at his state in between his encounters with both Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade and Hitagi Senjougahara. Third in this trio of life-changing individuals is Hanekawa Tsubasa, and I think if this book has one single question to answer it’s why Koyomi isn’t dating her already.

Tsukihi and Koyomi’s talk about love brings this to the forefront of the narrative. Koyomi’s clear inexperience means he struggles to realise obvious signs of him having a crush on Hanekawa, and also allows Tsukihi to eventually convince him that he doesn’t and is just overly horny instead. It’s more convenient for him. He doesn’t really want to think about confessing because he thinks it would trouble Hanekawa, someone that he couldn’t possibly imagine being into him in return. 

I find myself coming back to the thing mentioned in the prologue, the essential similarity between Hanekawa Tsubasa and Araragi Koyomi. The difference between them and Hitagi or Kanbaru, who ‘live their lives facing forward’. To some extent it’s been obvious for a while - both of them putting others over themselves, choosing to act like a good person without really believing themselves to be one. The difference, then, is in Hanekawa’s strength of will, in being someone who can, at all times, in all situations, continue to do the right thing, despite not feeling any particular attachment to that process at all.

That’s one of the conclusions to this arc. The idea that the Sawari Neko didn’t take advantage of her pity, but rather rewarded her lack thereof, acting according to Hanekawa’s will instead of its own. Her desire to be ‘normal’ is the source of all irregularity in this incident. 

Koyomi is different. Koyomi can’t help but feeling for almost everyone he encounters. He’s careless, doesn’t always do the right thing, but despite it all will end up helping out anyone.

When Hanekawa saved him during the events of Kizumonogatari, she did it in the same way as she buried the cat. Calmly, coldly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t pity him, she didn’t look down on him, she simply saw him as an equal. 

So we are told in this arc, but one thing left unmentioned is that Hanekawa was in love with him. 

And while that’s a story for another time, it’s also a story we’ve already seen. Tsubasa Cat. This whole time, she was building up stress from not being able to tell Koyomi her feelings, he was unable to notice because of his idealized view of her in which she’d hardly think that highly of him, and as a result, out bursts Black Hanekawa, here to settle things on her behalf. Koyomi couldn’t become her hero, so she made one herself.

Once again I find myself wondering about the chronology here. Tsubasa Cat ‘skips over’ this first incident - the central trick, that there was never a difference between Hanekawa and the cat, is elided, in favour of making Kuro more of her own character. Perhaps a result of being separated by Kokorowatari in this one? 

But precisely because of that, we have an original enough scenario awaiting us in this arc. One where Kuro fights a hundred exorcist battles against Oshino and beats him every time, with the knowledge she has from fusing with Hanekawa. One where she holds back, avoids killing him, because she’s one with Hanekawa and still feels like she owes him. One where Oshino couldn’t defeat her exactly because of the depth of that combination - it’s pointless to exorcise the cat if the human wants to do the exact same things. Oshino’s style is always to balance things out, resolve the deeper issues. But it seems like Hanekawa’s issues are beyond even his deft hand. 

Another of the things that Tsukihi and Koyomi discuss is the vibe people’s clothes can give off - regardless of whether you’re wearing black or white panties, a person’s true nature shines through. A chaste person will seem chaste even in provocative black panties, and vice versa for a lewd person wearing white. Their only mistake - confirmed when Koyomi gets a good look at what Hanekawa is wearing early on - is to think that a person’s nature can be only lewd, or only chaste. This is a realization he talks about in Tsubasa Cat. Good people aren’t always good because good things happened to them. Sometimes one’s circumstances are so bad they have no choice but to be good. It’s not black or white. Good people sometimes act badly, too. Hanekawa Tsubasa is both. At the same time. 

Look at her reaction, when Koyomi exposes her. He has her briefly talking without the cat puns, confirms she does at heart have the same impulse to help him. She ‘showed no signs of guilt’. There’s no disconnect. Is there anything more Hanekawa Tsubasa than ‘seeming oddly cheerful’ while standing in front of your crush wearing only your underwear? She acts normal even in the most abnormal situations. 

The point of the Sawari Neko’s tale in the first place is that the cat and its victim are one. A virtuous person buries a cat, starts acting weirdly, is presumed to have been possessed by a spirit, but turns out to have been just doing that on their own. Just because they’re superficially viewed as a virtuous person doesn’t mean they won’t act out. It can make it more likely, in some cases. 

The way Oshino puts it, ‘turning out to never be a cat at all’ would be the worst outcome, it would leave Hanekawa stuck like that, in cat mode, permanently. It’s why he’s so worried about not finding a cat in the grave that it was first buried in, and why Koyomi nonetheless finds that the cat is there when the incident is over. Oddities, after all, are a way of shifting responsibility, something that we blame when we can blame nothing else. Rather than reckon with the fact that Hanekawa simply had the desire to do those things all along, we find it easier to resolve things by saying a cat made her do it.

This isn’t just a convenient excuse for Koyomi, who doesn’t want to think badly of her. It isn’t just a convenient excuse for Oshino, who completely failed in his role as a specialist here. It is, perhaps most importantly, a convenient excuse for Hanekawa Tsubasa, who, despite being fully conscious the whole time, still pretends she’s bewitched by a cat. 

That’s what Koyomi shouts to her. You’re still you. Stop trying to pretend you’re something else. Stop pretending that you’re weak-willed enough to get bewitched by a cat. Stop acting like your human vulnerabilities work as an excuse to become something entirely inhuman. Your life sucks, it really does, but trying to work off stress by attacking people isn’t going to change it.

This whole Black Hanekawa thing doesn’t really work if she allows herself to consciously acknowledge she’s putting on an act, because then she would realise the conflict between it and her usual maxim of always doing the right thing. Perhaps that conflict is what results when Kokorowatari separates her from the cat and it lashes out at her psyche?

But for that moment, Hanekawa writhing on the floor, unsaved even at the cost of Koyomi’s life, there’s a further interpretation I want to advance here. Koyomi shouts at her. He’s a bit cruel, a bit unsympathetic. Some of it’s his true feelings, no doubt, but he’s also trying to make her angry, get her to attack him. It seems to work. “Just die.” She repeats it for over two pages - only to reveal that at the end she’s referring to herself. 

We talked about vampirism as a representation of Koyomi and Kiss-Shot’s suicidality during Kizu. We mentioned that Hanekawa dealt with similar issues, but not how her oddity plays into that. Because in Tsubasa Cat it really doesn’t. But here there’s a whole other layer to it. If Hanekawa isn’t freed from the cat’s control within 10 days, it will become permanent. There will be no choice but to kill her. 

Does Hanekawa know this? She is the cat. If we take that seriously for a moment-

“Farewell. Go have a happy life.” the cat says to Koyomi when she leaves after meeting him at school.

“I will disappear after I hunt another five hundred people.” I? Who’s I?

The pain after being struck by Kokorowatari - in Tsubasa Cat, Koyomi says that everyone that the cat attacked was for Hanekawa’s sake, even herself. Here he says the same, that it can’t just be the cat’s random whim, because it’s been consistently and completely on Hanekawa’s side this whole time. 

Because when she picked the cat’s dead body off the ground she didn’t pity it, didn’t feel sorry for it. But she is the cat. When Koyomi shouts “There isn’t anything sorry about us, is there!?” is he talking to the cat, attacking Hanekawa, or Hanekawa, picking the cat up from the side of the road?

The Sawari Neko. Meddlecat, curse cat, whatever you want to call it, the pun is in the verb sawaru - to touch. Touching her will drain you. It will curse you. Regardless of her will. Because the cat, because Hanekawa, doesn’t know about her own power. She doesn’t know everything. 

The way Oshino puts it, Hanekawa’s parents are her fault. She acted in such an abnormally perfect way that they were unable to face her. Frankly if you’ll allow me to insert my personal opinion for a moment I think this is fucking stupid. In the anime you can pretend it’s just how Oshino puts it, but in the novel the narration makes it clearer you’re supposed to take him somewhat seriously. Hanekawa really did curse the people around her, purely through proximity. She ruined the chances of them becoming a proper family.

For that reason, as the cat,  she pushes Koyomi away, saying he’ll be cursed on contact with her. However, it’s too late. He’s long since been bewitched by the cat. So much so that he wants to die of it. 

Is it such a stretch to imagine that Hanekawa might feel the same? Someone like me, who curses everyone I touch, I should just die.

Koyomi’s rant, then, takes on a different tone. He’s desperately begging her to accept her current life because he doesn’t want her to throw it away.

Go on, say ‘I only know what I know’ like you normally do, because there’s still so much in the world you have to learn about.

He says this while dying himself. The question we had at the start, why a relationship between them wouldn’t really work, beyond Hitagi’s interference, seems obvious to answer now. Both of them keep so much to themselves, take everything on themselves, save everyone but themselves. This is the only place their relationship, on its own, could ever end. A mutual suicide. 

It takes Shinobu’s intervention, just as it did in Tsubasa Cat, to save them both. That similarity makes the difference so much more obvious. He doesn’t ask for her aid out of an understanding of the value of his own life. From start to finish, he refuses to believe that Shinobu actually cares enough to save him.

We might ask, as we did with Tsubasa Cat, about the placement of this arc. It’s fundamentally kind of odd, the ordering of the rest of the series aside, to put the two like this, having to recap the start and end of this one to fully explain the other.

I can’t fully answer that question. But one thing I can say is that Bakemonogatari couldn’t possibly have ended with Tsubasa Family. 

And that's all for now. Hanekawa stocks are rising a lot for me this time round. I barely remember what happens in Neko Shiro so that should be fun.

#monogatariposting #monogatari #hanekawa tsubasa #araragi koyomi #black hanekawa