#and somehow that manifests in me liking both of them as dark sides

[hyperfixated-homo]

its thinking about reverse!sides hours

#sanders sides #yknow the ones where the light sides become dark sides and vise versa? #ye #im. always thinking about reverse logan #at all times #or any variation of dark side logan #he takes up 90% of my thoughts #also. darkside!patton. yeah im a little bit obsessed w/ that rn #which is funny because on one hand #im such a big fan of sympathetic logan that i want him to be mean and tell the others just how much they hurt him #and on the OTHER hand #im a big fan of UNSYMP patton being manipulative and sly #and somehow that manifests in me liking both of them as dark sides #so thats fun #and! im also thinking about reverse janus #just. so much mom energy

[nanawritesit]

Obey Me! Demon Brothers: When You Wake Up From a Nightmare

tw: bad dreams, anxiety, sharing a bed, cuddling, kissing, eating food

Lucifer:

You were currently tiptoeing your way through the House of Lamentation, stumbling around in the dark. You knew the path to Lucifer’s office well, but it was still hard to navigate without any light. It also didn’t help that your heart was beating out of your chest from the dream you just had.

Finally reaching the correct door, you gathered up your courage and knocked on his door lightly.

“Come in.” he said from the other side.

You crept around his door to see him at his desk, papers sprawled out everywhere as usual. You knew you’d be more likely to find him in his office than his bedroom at this hour.

“MC, what are you doing up? You should be asleep, we have school tomorrow.” he asked in a slightly scolding tone.

So should you. You thought to yourself.

“I um…” you stammered, gaze fixed upon the floor.

He sensed your nervousness, and his tone softened. “MC, it’s alright,” he reassured, “you can tell me.”

You huffed, then straightened yourself up. “I had a bad dream, and now I can’t sleep.”

“Ah, I see…” he observed, folding his hands together. “Are you sleepy?”

You nodded sheepishly. “I am, but I’m too anxious to let myself fall back asleep.”

“Hm…” he hummed, drumming his fingers on his desk in thought. “Would it help if someone was in bed with you?”

Your heart stopped. The avatar of pride himself was offering to share a bed with you just so you could fall back asleep. Of course, you had fantasized about it several times before, but were far too shy to initiate anything with him.

“I…” you stuttered, clearing your throat. “I suppose so.”

“I was thinking about heading up to bed soon myself.” he explained. “You could join me if you’d like.”

You nodded with a small smile. “I would like that.”

He grinned. “Alright, let’s go.”

At first, it was a bit awkward. He slept on his back, and you were curled up in a ball facing away from him. You tried your best to let go of your anxiety, but it seemed to just make you feel worse.

“Lucifer?” you whispered hesitantly.

“Yes MC?”

“I’m still scared…” you admitted, feeling embarrassed. It was humiliating to tell a demon you couldn’t fall asleep because of a stupid dream.

He sighed and rolled over, putting his arms around you to spoon you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he put one arm around your waist and the other under your pillow. He draped a single leg over both of yours, then plopped his head onto the edge of your pillow.

“There, now you’re safe and protected.” he told you. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You were stiff at first, but it was surprisingly easy to lean into his touch. He really did make you feel safe. He smelled like coffee and vanilla, and was so warm…

Before you knew it, your eyelids were starting to feel heavy again, and you were drifting off to sleep without a care.

“Goodnight my dear.” he whispered, somehow sensing that you were about to pass out. You hummed in response, making him chuckle before nodding off himself.

Mammon:

You woke up in a cold sweat, turning on your bedside lamp quickly to make sure nothing was after you. You sighed in relief as you realized it was just a dream. However, your mind drifted back to your sorcery class earlier today.

You were instructed to envision your worst fears as you looked into the cauldron, manifesting them into a hexing potion. Yours turned out great, but now it was plaguing you. What if you accidentally manifested some sort of terrifying entity, and it was now coming after you?

You began to tremble in anxiety, feeling your heartbeat quicken. You sprung out of bed and ran to the one person you knew would make you feel better.

“Mammon wake up!” you screeched, bursting through his bedroom door.

He groaned as he raised himself up. “Hm? What’s goin’ on?” he asked with a yawn, squinting his tired eyes.

“I think something’s after me!” you cried. “I don’t know what it is but I just had a horrible nightmare, and today in potions class I was manifesting my worst fears into a hex, and now I’m scared it’s coming for me and-“

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, concerned at how you were gasping for air between sentences. He put his arms around you and just held you there for a second, rubbing his hand along your back soothingly. “I’ve got ya. It’s okay.”

You squinted your eyes shut, pushing the stray tears out of them. You buried your head into his chest as you caught your breath.

“Mammon, I’m so scared.” you confessed.

“I can tell, you’re literally shakin’…” he observed. He leaned back and placed a hand on your forehead, looking down at you with a concerned expression. “You’re burnin’ up too. Ya poor thing…”

“What if something is coming to get me?” you asked. “What if it wants to hurt me?”

“I wouldn’t let anything hurt ya, MC. You’re with the Great Mammon now.” he reassured with a smug grin. Normally a remark like that would’ve annoyed you, but tonight it was strangely comforting.

“Thank you Mammon…” you sighed in relief. You looked around the room awkwardly. “Can I… can I sleep in here tonight?”

His eyes widened and his face immediately heated up at the suggestion. He wanted to scream “yes!” from the rooftops. But he just coughed, shifting into a stricter posture. “I don’t know if that’s-“

“Please?” you practically whimpered, reaching for his hands. You were looking at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.

Damnit. He thought to himself. They’re way too cute to refuse.

“Well… what kind of demon would I be if I didn’t help my human out in their hour of need?” he stated with false confidence. “But just for tonight!”

“Yay!” you cheered, burrowing under his blanket like a little bunny.

His thoughts were racing as he joined you. Be cool, Mammon. You’re just sharing a bed with your crush. It’s no big deal. Whatever you do, don’t think about how snuggly they look, or how they were just begging you to sleep together, or how they came to you first over everyone else…

“Thank you for keeping me safe, my big strong demon.” you chuckled. You thought to yourself for a moment, then leaned over to peck his cheek. “Goodnight Mammon.”

His heart felt like it was going to explode, and his face was on fire. “Oh come on, ya can’t just do that! How am *I* supposed to fall sleep now?”

Leviathan:

Just as you expected, the lights of Levi’s room were still on. He was sitting up in his bathtub bed, playing video games. It was a sight you saw every day, but tonight it was especially calming.

“Levi?” you called out as you entered through the doorway.

He jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion, but smiled once he saw that it was you. “Oh, it’s you MC. Do you need something?”

“Yeah actually, I…” you began, rubbing the back of your neck anxiously.

He looked you over, observing your tousled hair, clammy skin, and dark circles. “Bad dream?”

Your head snapped back up, and you let out a small gasp. “How did you know?”

He shrugged, setting his controller down. “I used to get them a lot. I just kind of know the look of them.”

“Really?” you asked. “But you seem so brave!”

He blushed lightly, glancing down at his lap with a smile. No one ever thought of him as brave.

“I just started doing things I love when I woke up from a nightmare.” he explained. “Playing video games, watching anime, reading manga… it was a good way to get my mind off the dream, and helped me feel sleepy enough to go back to bed. And since it put me back in a good headspace, I usually had a good dream afterwards. ”

You smiled gratefully. “Thanks for the advice Levi. I’ll give that a try.” You started to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist suddenly. You froze and glanced down at it.

“Sorry.” he chuckled nervously, letting go. “It’s just… if you’re not ready to go back to sleep yet, I was wondering if you’d want to watch some anime together? I’ll give you my ruri-chan body pillow and everything.”

You couldn’t help the great big smile that broke out on your face. “I’d love to, Levi!”

He gave you an equally huge grin, and pulled you into the tub on top of him. You screeched playfully, scrambling to sit up on his lap. Feeling a lot better already, you were confident that you would have a good dream when you eventually went back to sleep, like Levi said. What he didn’t know was that he was the topic of all your good dreams.

Satan:

Satan was sitting up in his bed, propped up on his pillows and reading a book. He was in his pajamas, clearly doing his nightly routine of reading before bed. He glanced up from the top of his book when he heard you enter his room.

“Ah MC, it’s good to see you.” he smiled, closing the book but keeping his thumb on the page he was reading.

“Hi Satan, um… what are you reading?” you asked, trying to deflect the attention off yourself.

“Oh not much, just some poetry…” he told you, gesturing to the book. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah…” you sighed. There was no way you could act like nothing was wrong. He could read you too well. “Do you… remember that time we were studying together and I fell asleep to the sound of you reading aloud?”

He nodded with a miniscule smirk.

“Well, I just had a really bad dream, and I can’t fall back asleep… could you do that for me again?” you asked, bashfully kicking at the foot of the bed.

“Of course I can, dear.” he said, trying to contain his joy at how you came to him for help with a request like this.

He scooted over and flipped up the comforter, patting the spot next to him. You slowly climbed up next to him, cautiously resting your head on his shoulder.

He put an arm around your side to hold the other end of his book out in front of you. “I didn’t know you enjoyed my reading so much.”

You shyly looked away from him. “You just… have a really relaxing voice, okay?” you mumbled.

He held back a chuckle, turning his attention back to the book. He began reading it out loud to you.

You followed along for a little while, but eventually your eyelids fluttered shut, and Satan’s words got more and more jumbled. You just felt so cozy and safe in his arms, and before you knew it, you didn’t even remember how scared you were. You quickly fell asleep right there on his shoulder.

He glanced down at you, smirking to himself as he noticed your unconsciousness. He turnt his attention back to the book.

“‘I may never find words beautiful enough to describe all that you mean to me, but I will spend the rest of my life searching for them.’ John Mark Green.”

He shut the book and placed it back on his night stand. Carefully lifting you off his shoulder, he laid you down flat on the bed and covered you up. Once the lights were off, he curled up next to you and went to sleep with butterflies in his stomach. You were truly special to him.

Asmodeus:

You crept into Asmo’s bedroom to see him sound asleep on his huge, luxurious bed. He had on a pink sleep mask, and was wearing the softest silk pajamas you’d ever seen.

“Asmo?” you whispered, gently shaking him awake.

He whined, shuffling around a bit. “Mm, who is it? You know I need my beauty sleep!”

“Asmo it’s me, MC… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have woke you. It was just a nightmare. I’ll go back to bed…”

He suddenly sprung up, whipping off his sleep mask. “Oh my poor darling!” he pouted, turning on his bedside lamp. “Sorry about the tone MC, I assumed you were one of my brothers. I would’ve been much nicer had I known it was you!”

“It’s okay Asmo…” you told him with a chuckle.

“No it’s not ‘okay,’ you just had a nightmare!” he gaped, putting his hands on your shoulders. “That’s really scary! I mean, I never get them, but Levi does, and from what I hear they’re pretty terrifying!”

“It was, but… I can’t remember what it was about.” you told him disappointedly.

“Oh, that’s horrible honey…” he said, pulling you in for a tight hug. “I bet it’s even worse not knowing what scared you!” He began to run a hand through your hair comfortingly. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the soothing sensation. It felt really good to be babied by Asmo.

You nodded into the crook of his neck. “I’m still pretty scared too… can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course you can darling!” he cooed, kissing your forehead. “I’ll give you all the attention you want until you fall back asleep!”

“Awh, thanks Asmo…” you beamed, falling back against the mattress with him.

The two of you stayed up for a little while longer, gossiping and giggling until you started feeling tired again.

“You’re so cute when you’re all sleepy like this…” he complimented you, tucking your hair behind your ear. He was looking at you with such genuine admiration in his eyes. “You’re beautiful, MC.”

“Not as beautiful as you, Asmo.” you chuckled, trying to ignore the blush that was creeping up your cheeks.

He laughed, cuddling up to you. “Well, no one’s as beautiful as me. But you come pretty close.”

Beelzebub:

You woke up in the middle of the night with a general sense of anxiety. It wasn’t so much that you were panicking, but it was enough to put you on edge.

You were startled by a loud noise coming from down the hall. Paralyzed with fear, you somehow managed to creep out of bed and down the hallway, holding a broom out in front of you for protection.

You stopped in front of the kitchen, hearing something shuffling around in there. Whatever was lurking around the house was definitely in there. You collected all the courage you had, then leapt around the corner into the kitchen, charging in with your broom raised to strike.

“MC, it’s just me!” Beel cried, throwing his hands up in surrender. He was currently knelt in front of the oven, picking some cookies up off the ground.

“Oh…. sorry Beel, I’m just a bit jumpy… I heard a loud noise and got scared.”

“That was just me baking cookies.” he chuckled, standing up. “I accidentally dropped the tray taking them out of the oven. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No it’s okay, I was already awake.” you explained, taking a seat at the counter.

“Really? You’re usually asleep at this hour.” he observed. He set the tray in front of you, gesturing for you to take one.

“Well I was, but I just randomly woke up.” you told him, taking a bite of a cookie. “I don’t know why, I just felt super anxious and full of dread.”

“That’s not good.” he said, stating the obvious. “I usually only get nightmares when I’m hungry. That’s why I always wake up for a snack before I can have one.”

“Maybe that’s what I need.” you chuckled. “Good thing you were up baking!”

He laughed along with you, grabbing a cookie himself. “I’m glad I can help. But even if I wasn’t, you know you can always wake me up if you need something. I wouldn’t mind.”

You smiled warmly. “Thank you, Beel. I really appreciate that.”

He nodded contentedly, then picked up the tray of cookies. “Well, I’m gonna take these back to my room and go back to bed. Wanna share?”

You were a little shocked that he was being so forward. He must have noticed this, because he gave you a comforting expression before he explained.

“The cookies, not the bed.” he laughed. “Although I wouldn’t mind sharing both.”

You giggled at his bluntness. “Sounds good to me.”

“Which one?” he asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” you teased, grabbing the cookies and running ahead of him up the stairs. He quickly caught up to you in the bedroom, but you jumped into his bed before he could catch you.

“I see, you wanna share both too.” he grinned, crawling up next to you. He took a bite out of the cookie you were holding. “How gluttonous.”

Belphegor:

The faint sound of snoring reached your ears as you opened the door to the stairs of the attic. You knew Belphie would be asleep. Having just woke up from a nightmare, you first thought was to go to the avatar of sloth. Surely he would be able to help.

“Belphie?” you called out, approaching his sleeping form. No response. You shook him lightly. “Belphie, please, I need you.”

That seemed to get to him. He immediately rolled over and sat up. “MC? What is it?”

You sighed in relief that you were able to wake him up. “Belphie, can you do anything about nightmares? I just had a pretty bad one, and now I can’t sleep.”

“Oh, I’m sorry MC.” he said sympathetically, ruffling your hair. “Yeah, just lie down right here next to me.”

You did as he asked, curling up in his cozy blankets and pillows that smelled just like him. The lavender aroma was intoxicating, instantly making you feel sleepy again.

“Alright, is it okay if I lay on top of you? It helps the magic work better.” he asked. You nodded, and he put his weight on you. His head was on your chest, and he had his arms curled up around your sides. It felt like you had a big, cuddly teddy bear on top of you. That combined with the way he was drawing little circles on your arm with his fingers was enough to put you back to sleep in no time.

You awoke in the morning tangled up together. He had somehow wriggled his way up your body, laying on his side and holding onto you while you faced him, curled up into his chest.

He woke up at the feeling of you stirring next to him, a small smile forming on his face as he stretched his legs. “Good morning, MC.”

“Morning Belphie.” you mused, brushing his hair out of his face. “That was some magic you used last night.”

He chuckled lightly. “I didn’t use any magic last night MC.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “You didn’t? But… I fell asleep so easily!”

“I honestly just wanted to cuddle you.” he confessed, blushing slightly. “But I guess it made you feel safe enough to fall back asleep.”

“Yeah, it did… I didn’t have another nightmare, so I’ll let you off the hook.” you decided, smirking at him playfully.

“I don’t apologize for anything.” he remarked with a devilish grin.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me writing #obey me imagines #obey me fluff #obey me scenarios #obey me fanfic #obey me requests #obey me headcanons #lucifer x reader #mammon x mc #leviathan x reader #satan x y/n #asmodeus x mc #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #lucifer imagine #mammon fluff #leviathan x mc #satan x reader #asmodeus fluff #beelzebub headcanons #belphegor x mc #demon brothers x reader #demon brothers

[misseviehyde]

CHRONO-TRIGGERED

The swirling chaos of the time-tunnel flowed and pulsed around me. My atoms were being disassembled, my consciousness projected through time. The pain was agonising, but I didn't care. I would do anything for my revenge.

I knew this was risky. This was a one way trip - no way back. I would appear in the past at the time of my choosing but with no control over how I manifested. I would appear naked and helpless in my own past - in 2024.

It was illegal to use this technology and the cost to acquire it had been astronomical. Only my pure focus had allowed me to achieve my goals. Time travel was highly dangerous technology to acquire, but I was willing to break the law.

Wheeling myself into the tunnel, I had been nervous. There was always a chance the machine would simply tear me apart - blasting my molecules apart with time tachyons. Worse - it might send me back 3000 years instead of 30. As I entered, the tunnel glowed and my experience of reality shattered and fractured.

For what felt like centuries I was suspended in the darkness of void space - cold and alone.

Then the world shifted back into painful focus and panting and gasping I came back to myself. I was alive, the pain of translation had been agonising and my newly reconstituted body burned painfully.

Naked I lay on the ground, upon spongy cool grass. Something seemed strange about my body and my voice. I felt... weird.

Sitting up slowly, I drew in both my surroundings and my bodily status at the same time. My aging masculine body with it's scars of time and it's useless legs... was gone.

I was now young and strong again... but strangest of all I was female. The unexpected tug of breasts on my chest brought a sharp feminine gasp to my soft lips. I reached up to feel silky soft hair and impossibly smooth skin. There was nothing between my legs, just the soft folds of a vagina and a strange feeling of absence.

This I had not anticipated - but the vagaries of this form of time travel was not yet fully understood. No one quite understood the technology - it was impossible to travel back in your own body - but I had somehow still expected to wake up as a man.

This was unexpected and possibly affected my plans in a detrimental way. Then again, as my ruthless mind turned the matter over I began to realise there might be advantages to this situation once I had time to consider them.

It was night time and I was lying on the soft grass of a garden on a warm summers night. Behind me was an expensive conservatory and a large expensive house. I recognised it Immediately from my childhood. At least that part of my plan had worked.

The need for my revenge burned bright inside me - but there were steps to take first. I hadn't walked for nearly thirty years, but standing fully upright, the senasations and muscle memory came back to me at once. The feeling was great but I also marvelled at my strange new feminine body. It was athletic and fit and I was curious to examine it - but right now I needed to get under cover.

Slipping quietly through the garden on my naked soles, enjoying the power to walk again, I carefully opened one of the side doors of the conservatory and went into the house.

I'd memorised the layout of this place along with some other important details, and I easily made my way to one of the master bedrooms where I quickly found a bathrobe and wrapped up my nakedness.

Then padding through the house I made my way to the living room where I found the towns richest and most powerful man Donald Grey gazing morosely into the fire. He looked round as I entered and his face twisted into a grimace of surprise and anger. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?"

He leapt to his feet, keeping his back to me and his hand going to his mobile phone to ring the police. I stopped him with two words.

"Green Ziggarut."

"H... how?" he stuttered, his face going deathly white. "How can you possibly know about that?"

"I know a lot of things Donald," I grinned. "I know all about your dirty little secrets, but I also know some information that could save you from all of your problems. I only have one thing I want in return. For you to adopt me as your s... I mean daughter."

"Are you mad?" stuttered Donald.

"I know your wife is infertile and you have no one to leave your fortune to. I know that some recent investments you made have gone badly wrong and you're in deep shit. I know this because I have knowledge of the future. Help me out and I'll help you out. We could be very useful to each other. I don't expect you to believe me just like that. Turn on the TV. Go to the lotto and I'll prove I'm genuine."

He just gawped at me blankly, so I switched on the TV for him. They were about to draw the numbers on the lottery, so calling on the details I had memorised I rattled off the winning numbers. Moments later they were drawn out and I saw his mouth drop open.

"S..some sort of trick," he muttered. "Wh..who are you? What do you want?"

I sighed and calmly repeated myself. "My plans are my own Donald. Suffice to say that I mean you no harm - in fact it's possible we could come to enjoy working together. In my future you commit suicide in a matter of weeks and your vast fortune and wealth end up being wasted. But with my help I can ensure things go very well for you. I've memorised certain details that can help you out. Investments, dirty secrets of your enemies... upcoming events. Adopt me as your daughter and tell the world some convicing lie about me having been sequestered abroad in some expensive school. Use your influence and I'll be grateful."

I could see him wavering, but he wasn't fully convinced yet. Yet as I approached him, I suddenly glanced over and caught my first sight of myself in the mirror mounted on his wall and like a bolt from the blue I realised what I needed to do.

For a moment I was stunned. I was ABSOLUTELY fucking gorgeous. Sure, my hair was messy and my features unadorned - but my natural beauty shone through. I looked like a super model. No man would be able to resist this angelic face and beautiful body, not if I could harness it's power.

Suddenly my doubts and fears about my mission evaporated. In some ways - if I could learn to use this body to my advantage - getting my revenge would now be even easier.

I softened my body language, forced myself to be more feminine. I adjusted the bathrobe and allowed it to slip open slightly at the top.

"Come on Donald, believe me - it will be worth it having me as your daughter. Let me help you... you can even choose my name. I'll be the perfect, pretty little daughter for you. Wouldn't you like that?"

I slid my hand on his arm, and looked up at him winsomely. My soft lips in a pout I whispered in his ear. "Power and money Daddy, I'll give them all to you. Just let me help you, give me a chance."

Donald looked down at me.

"Very well... Janice."

Janice? Janice Grey?

It would take a little bit of getting used to, but it would do... I was Janice Grey now.

***

Donald's wife Kathleen took a little convincing, but after I revealed several more secrets she quickly came around. Our business deal was concluded quickly - under my guidance the Grey's successfully restored their fortune and Donald was able to work his way out of the mess he would otherwise have been in.

I was now a time criminal. I had altered the future and it was impossible to say what effects my actions would have. I didn't care... this was only the start. My true revenge was to come.

Meanwhile my new Daddy spoke to a guy he knew and within weeks I had adoption papers and a new I.D as Janice Grey. We paid a hacker a substantial sum to create a fake digital footprint and past for me. The story would be that I was a relative of Kathleen's and had been adopted after a death in the family. It was all rather flimsy in some ways, but money always solved problems like this and no one was going to be looking too hard.

I didn't trust the Grey's entirely, but they were smart enough not to fuck with me. I made it clear to 'Daddy' one night that if anything should ever happen to me, certain information would make its way to the authorities and the fate I had helped avert would catch up with him.

Kathleen meanwhile, whilst initially suspicious and slightly cold, quickly warmed to me. I needed to learn how to be a woman fast and she was the easiest one to teach me. I fell quickly into the role of a dutiful daughter and insisted we go shopping together and hang out together. I also got her to introduce me to her friends daughters and quickly made friends with a network of rich girls my age.

I had always been a quick learner and my focus and determination to succeed in my mission gave me the push I needed. I worked hard to immerse myself in femininity. I needed to turn myself into a weapon. I had to overcome my original masculinity and reshape myself as a girl in order to get what I wanted.

It didn't hurt that I was beautiful and charming. That just came naturally to me in this body. But with a little feminine help I quickly learned to enhance my already impressive attributes.

I learned to use makeup to enhance my beautiful features and clothing and fashion to maximise my sex appeal. I changed my body language and patterns of speech, adopting the bratty mannerisms of a spoiled bored rich girl.

The more I immersed myself in the role - the more I became Janice. But there was one thing I knew I needed to do before embarking on the next stage of my plan. I needed to have sex.

There was a confidence in my sexuality that could only come from losing my virginity. I had already experienced the pleasures of my new body many times - making myself cum with my fingers - but I needed to know a mans touch.

It came from a hot frat boy at a party. To test my skills I seduced him away from his drunk girlfriend and luring him to the bedroom proceeding to make out and fuck him.

It was okay for a first attempt... I was clumsy and unsure at points. It felt good though and I enjoyed the sensation of being taken by a man and being filled with his manhood.

I spent the next few months fucking around, growing in skill and confidence. As my body count increased - so did my repertoire - and soon I knew everyway to make a man cum... even using my feet.

It was nearly a year since my arrival in the past... I was rapidly approaching the time I would need to take action. I had planned for a year of preparation - but I'd never dreamed it would be spent developing myself as a slutty hot bitch.

It was time to have my revenge...

***

I had to admit... it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay focused on my task. My life as Janice had become all consuming. I had to some extent fallen in love with the rich life style of a spoiled popular brat.

My hot friends were a genuine distraction. I could spend hours hanging out with Chloe, Kirsten and Paige. It would be so easy to just relax and enjoy the pleasure my new life could give me. Being a brat did feel amazing and in some ways made up for the thirty years of pain.

I'd discovered a love for running and exercise - a sheer delight to be able to run and stretch in my fine young body. It felt amazing to be young and sexy. I had learned to love being a girl. In fact I was struggling to remember how it had ever felt to be male.

But the cold core of fury that had transported me across time and space still burned brightly enough to power my need for revenge. I was nothing if not stubborn. Janice was a compelling identity, but the universe still demanded justice.

I knew exactly where to go. I knew exactly where I needed to be. I waited at the coffee shop waiting.

When I saw the three of them, my heart nearly stopped beating. Tears came to my eyes and my hands shook. It was so vivid. We were really here... now... in this place... this moment.

I watched the man I had used to be sit at a table. I watched him kiss his beautiful wife on her lips and punch his best-friend playfully on the arm.

Right then I wanted to run over to the table and throttle her and smash his friends face in. I restrained myself only with difficulty. The rage was hard to process. He had no IDEA of what was coming, of the damage these two ingrates would cause to his life.

Jordan and Lisa - the two traitors. Images thirty years old flashed into my mind. Lisa's face a mask of ecstasy as she rode atop Jordan... her face a mask of evil relish as she laughed at how she was going to take everything in a divorce. Jordan... his eyes burning with cold amusement as he let go of the the safety release and the garage door fell down crushing my legs.

The two of them had destroyed me emotionally and physically. They'd left me crippled and broken - taken it all from me. All that had been left was rage and fury.

Looking at my old self - I felt a flicker of disgust. How could I have been so naive... so pathetic?

I saw Jordan and Lisa share a glance, saw her smile wickedly at him when my old self's back was turned. The two of them were just as evil as I remembered.

But now the two of them had no idea a new player had entered the game. I watched Jordan excuse himself and head to the toilet. I rose from my seat and popped the lid from my drink.

Walking like an airhead I deliberately crashed into Jordan and he gasped as my drink went all over him and his shirt.

"OMG - I am like soooo sorry," I drawled in my bratty voice. "Oh like let me get you some help."

I snapped my fingers at one of the barristas and procured some kitchen roll. Dabbing it against his chest I giggled and played with my hair with my other hand.

"Like I'm such a clutz. Mmmmh nice chest though, like do you work out?"

Jordan went a little red and I could see how pleased he was. At this point in his life he must have been about 29 and here he was getting hit on by a girl in her early twenties. I actually had no idea how old I was, but my fake birth certificate said 19...

"Oh don't mention it, it was an honest mistake. Unless... you were deliberately trying to get my attention."

"Maybe I was," I purred. "I do like an older man. Hey - I feel really fucking bad for ruining your shirt. Let me make it up to you. Me and a couple of friends are having a pool party this afternoon, why don't you come round - it will be fun. I'll give you my address."

Jordan took the piece of paper I pushed into his hand, it also had my number on it.

"Ohhhh like is that your frumpy wife over there, she looks kinda mad. She probably won't let you come."

Lisa was staring daggers at the two of us. Her face delighted me. I loved to see it. I knew that she would give Jordan the cold freeze when he got back to the table - but I also knew he hated being told what to do. He'd definitely come tonight.

"Oh, no... she's just a friend. I'm not married. I'm single actually. You know what, I will be there tonight... why not!"

I giggled and blew him a kiss. "I sure hope so stud."

***

Jordan and Lisa.

Their names and faces had haunted me for decades. Jordan- my so called best friend. A good handsome guy, liked to work out. Interested in the ladies and ultimately Lisa's willing dupe.

Lisa - the evil bitch. She'd hooked me line and sinker. It wasn't till the end that I learned who she really was. A cold blooded pyscho. She'd been embezzling funds from our company, sleeping with my best-friend and when I refused to go along with the blackmail they'd both arranged - they broke my legs and left me in a wheelchair for life.

She was the truly evil one, but Jordan had to pay as well. It would have sickened me to do what I was going to do once - but I had learned the value of patience and seduction. As a woman - my sexual revenge would be slower but ultimately more devastating to these two traitors than they could imagine.

First I would split them apart, then I would take control of each of them and make them suffer. As Janice... it would be almost too easy.

I applied my makeup on put on my sluttiest swimsuit - my head awash in my evil plans. Lisa and Jordan were amateurs. I'd had thirty years to stew in my own hatred and plans for revenge. They had no idea what was about to hit them...

***

"Relax... it's like only a blowie. Everyone here is like cool anyway. This is my place and my Mom and Dad don't care what I do."

Jordan groaned as I sucked his dick. His cock was a nice length and felt good in my mouth. I sucked and slurped, expertly using my tongue to lick the tip. I could tell he liked it. "Are you sure no one is gonna interrupt us?" he groaned.

"Fuck... I never imagined this is what..."

"This is EXACTLY what you imagined," I giggled. "This is what you wanted." I went back to sucking.

It didn't take Jordan long to cum in my mouth and I swallowed every drop. Giggling I stood up and wiped my pretty mouth. "Does she suck cock as good as me?"

"Who?" asked Jordan suspicously.

"That woman you said wasn't your wife."

"Oh... her. No we aren't..."

"Oh come on baby. I can tell when two people are fucking. I'm just surprised you're with someone soooooo old."

Jordan blushed, but the appeal to his vanity worked. "I... I guess it's kind of hot to fuck a married woman. She's into all kinds of kinky shit too.'

"Whatever... you can keep fucking her, but I wanna do more stuff together. Married women are hot but nineteen year old pussy beats everything baby. I'd like to try some kinky shit with you too."

Jordan was hooked. I could tell. I guided his hand to my wet pussy. "Now are you ready for round two babe?"

***

We fucked and fucked. Sometimes Jordan would come over and smoke weed with us or stay to party. My friends liked having an older guy around to tease. They all agreed that older guys were hot.

Jordan was besotted with me. I prodded and teased him about the kinky stuff and eventually he opened up. He liked dressing up in girls clothing... he liked to be dominated.

He wanted to try stuff in private. We did things... kinky things. Leather, candles, strap-ons - you name it.

Shame he never noticed the secret camera in the room.

***

"Hey you... you're that bitch that Jordan has been hanging around with. What the hell do you want?" scowled Lisa.

I grinned as I insolently put a foot in the doorway to stop Lisa closing it.

"What's the matter bitch - annoyed I took lover boy away from you? I have business to discuss with you."

"How dare you talk to me like that," screeched Lisa.

"Oh calm down. I'm here to cut you a deal. I need to warn you. Jordan has told me everything about your little schemes, but he's planning to sell you out. Look here. I found these documents - he's been collecting evidence of your embezzlement of funds and he is planning to blackmail you. He means nothing to me, he's just a bit of fun - I figured you'd reward me handsomely for helping you out...'

Lisa took my envelope and her eyes narrowed as she scanned the information.

It was all I could do not to laugh...

***

"What! But how did she get these pictures?"

"I don't know babe. She must have gotten jealous of me being with you and hired a private eye. They have long photo shots of me pegging you. Luckily my rich Daddy pays for counter-survelience so I found out about this. She must be planning to release the photos and blackmail you.'

"That fucking bitch, she's trying to double cross me. I'll show her," snarled Jordan.

I watched him get in the car and accelerate away. This was almost too easy.

***

The house was eerily quiet but the police were on the way. On the drive lay Jordan - shot three times through the torso. Under the garage door, her legs crushed and broken, lay Lisa.

I smiled a warm smile of satisfaction. Watching these two destroy each other was satisfying. But I didn't want either of them to die. I checked Jordan. He was still alive, so I staunched the blood and gave basic first aid.

Lisa would live, she was still conscious and her eyes locked onto mine.

'Y...you. You did this. W...why?"

I didn't answer. There was nothing I could say to explain my hatred. Lisa and Jordan would both live - but the police would find evidence of their embezzlement and fraud along with a lot of embarassing photos of Jordan leaked online.

They would live out their lives in shame and ignomy, Lisa in a wheelchair. I knew exactly how that felt of course.

I wondered what would happen to the other me now. Obviously he would be shocked by what had happened but move on with his life.

By rights it should cause a paradox. I had no cause to travel back in time now. All I knew is that I'd been told that once sent back in time - my causal loops were broken and I was a free agent.

I wondered if my changes to the timeline would massively effect the future? I hoped not. I had certainly memorised and learned plenty of information about the coming decades figuring that if I was going to be stuck in the past I may as well have knowledge and power.

I had never anticipated I would end up as a hot girl. I was in love with being Janice and now my revenge was complete it felt like I could finally move on with my life.

Leaving my former life behind to the wail of sirens and Lisa's anguished cries - I walked off into the night.

I was hot young and sexy. I was a rich spoiled bitch and I knew everything that was going to happen for the next thirty years.

This time I would live for every moment... this time I would live for me.

Well you know what they say... Tempus Fugit."

THE END

#evie hyde #m2f transformation #time travel #revenge

[blueeyesking]

Come out, Critias! Pt. 3/3

[It's Seto's final turn. He doesn't have anything in his deck that can save him now...

However, upon touching the card he will draw, Kaiba's mind and spirit are transported somewhere else.]

Seto floats above two frozen dragon statues, in a large, intricate room that he doesn't recognize. Drawn to one by some unseen force, Seto gazes at the sword lodged into the great dragon's throat.

"I must be hallucinating... Am I supposed to remove the sword? What is this, an Arthurian myth?" Seto mutters to himself, incredulous, as he moves to take its hilt in hand. The sword gives with little effort, sliding free of the cracking ice, which shatters off of the dragon only a moment later. It roars in triumph, then looks at Seto expectantly, eyes shining with intelligence.

Seto's eyes meet its, and widen in shock.

"...How do I-? I know you." He floats forward, and places his hand on its dark snout. "Your name... is Critias."

[A bright light overwhelms the man, who is suddenly back in the Duel, about to draw.

"Well? Are you going to take your turn? Or have you realized you can't win, Kaiba?" Alister calls at Seto, hand on his hip confidently.

"SHUT UP! You don't know who you're messing with!!" Shouts Mokuba from behind Seto, banging on the barrier between them created by the Seal.

"That's enough, Mokuba," Seto shushes his brother. Alister laughs.

But Alister can't see the card under Seto's fingers glowing.

Without his usual dramatic flair, Seto draws- it's a card he's never seen before, and looks just like the dragon in his vision. It doesn't exist in his deck! But he knows its power, somehow... Kaiba stares at it a moment, then nods, as if to the dragon depicted.

"I use the Fang of Critias!" Seto holds the card aloft, and it glows with the effect of an activated spell.

"What?!" Alister leans on his side of the duel ring with both hands, incredulous and shocked. "But you don't have that card!!"

Seto laughs at the boy, triumphant. "I do now! Fang of Critias merges with my set Trap card: Crush Card Virus!"

"But you can't merge a trap card with a monster?!"

"Well, I just did! That's the effect of Fang of Critias!" Kaiba casts his hand out, as if showing off a new exhibit. "Behold, Doom Virus Dragon!"

The monster roars, manifested on the field, dwarfing Alister's monsters.

"And Doom Virus Dragon's effect destroys every other monster on the field with an attack of fifteen-hundred or higher!"

Doom Virus Dragon releases a blast greater than even Blue-Eyes White Dragon's Burst Stream, shattering all of the monsters on Alister's side of the field and leaving him with only a single face-down card for defense.

"Go! Doom Virus Dragon! Attack Alister directly!!" Kaiba points his direction to the dragon, who charges up its devastating beam, releasing its fury on Alister- "It's game over!"

"I activate my set spell: Contagion of Madness!" Alister casts his hand out, flipping the spell card. It deals half of the directly attacking monster's ATK to its controller, simultaneously to the battle damage it will inflict upon its target.

Alister's LP: 0

Seto's LP: 0

The duel ends in a draw, releasing both men from the Seal and flinging Seto back against Mokuba, who falls under his older brother's weight.

"From the darkness of the opposite hall, cut off by the duel ring, the Kaibas hear Alister's voice as he retreats, "This isn't over, Kaiba! I'll be back- and you'll pay for what your father did to me!"

Seto stands, brushing himself off, then helps Mokuba to his feet. He stares at the mysterious new card in his hand: The Fang of Critias.]

#SCENE END! #arc: what the doma?! #narrative post

[myriadium]

Hi hello I am obsessed with your Bakugan AU omg. Love the new spins you’ve taken on the characters, grounding them more in reality! :D (and the wide diversity in gender identities and orientation is wonderful.) It’s also super interesting to see them aged up so they have jobs/higher education to be worrying about and such, it adds an interesting element imo.

Could we hear more about Alice? What’s her life like outside of Bakugan - did she work with Mikhail or have a job/education of her own? Does her whole deal with Masquerade differ at all to canon? (I always hated the way they just kind of write him off soon after the reveal instead of exploring how Alice deals with it more. One episode is not enough to fix the trauma, lmao, c’mon guys.)

YOOO THANK YOU SO MUCH I'm so happy you like it!!!!! These characters basically grew up with me so I love projecting aspects of my life onto them!

I'm also so glad you asked about Alice cus the show did her dirty in both the first and subsequent seasons. To be revealed as such a menacing threat and one of the big bads, only to be demoted to a side character and then a picture on a screen is simply insulting for the best character ever in Bakugan.

So basically my Alice grew up with her grandfather, who's field of physics requires him to study in remote and distant areas with no phones, no wifi, no outside signals (I think some places that communicate with satellites out in space are built in the middle of bumfuck nowhere because you really can't have electronic interference). As such, Alice grew up extremely sheltered, passing her days by playing with imaginary friends and reading books (favorite was alice in wonderland, wouldn't you know it).

In Russia, she didn't get a job nor did she go to university; she was a quick study and with the books (and harassing Mikhail) she kind of became a physics prodigy. She was a homebody with anxiety and agoraphobia, only comfortable with the familiar and the safety of her bed. That is, until Mikhail disappears. Somehow she finds the courage to leave her home and go to a whole new country to find where he ended up. She sees and meets more people than she ever thought possible, and grows to like it.

She gets a job at Runo's family's cafe, where she meets all sorts of people, and gets introduced to the Brawlers. I'd like to think that she takes a couple uni classes before Vestroia destroys the fabric of reality. Between S1 and S2 she actually goes to school and speedruns getting a PhD. When we see her after a timeskip she has short hair and is going into a program for dimensional physics (not yet a real program). She works in tandem with Marucho and Mikhail to monitor and maintain the dimensional rifts required to sustain Bakugan's existence in their universe.

As for her connection with Masq I like the idea that Masq was the manifestation of her negative emotions (Silent Core n allat). In this case, her being so drawn to the battlefield clashes with her belief that the game is dangerous; it's the cause of her grandfathers disappearance after all. Her general shyness and fear of the unknown prevents her from reaching her true potential. The Silent Core separates her desires from the ones she embraces and the ones she wants to reject. Enter Masqerade, the embodiment of her desire to battle! Stripped of everything except bloodlust, this form answers to the Silent Core and fucking wrecks the leaderboards because guess what, Alice is actually a very good brawler!

While Masq is fucking shit up, Alice is left in the dark. Her different aspects remember different things, have different abilities, but are fundamentally the same person. As the leaderboards settle and people start losing their Bakugan, Alice's fear of battling increases until Masq is nigh unstoppable. It's until a little scuffle with Exedra where his image flickers...just a little bit...to reveal a very scared woman...

Anyway basically Alice has to embrace her desire to kick ass and becomes one with Masq. Sounds corny and probably is but you can have her accept this part of herself slowly, like picking up battling, which weakens the Silent Core's hold on her, until the final fight where Masq collapses afterwards to reveal that it was her all along! Hydronoid recognizes her as his true master and a new player - Alice Gehabich replaces Masquerade as the number one player! She's still pretty shy (I don't like how people treat introversion as something they need a character arc to get over, some people are just like that smh) so her media appearances are few and far between. However, you can reliably catch her on the battlefield maintaining her number one spot.

Also in New Vestroia Alice replaces Marucho because I cannot fathom for the life of me why he was taken on the trip of a lifetime while my girl, who used to be the NUMBER ONE PLAYER IN THE WORLD, MIGHT I ADD, stays inside the house and babysits some alien.

#bakugan #alice gehabich #bakugan worldbuilding

[neuroprincess]

Simili - Prologue

Professor!Agatha Harkness/Student!Female Reader

Fanfic Chapter List

Summary: A series of murders start to scare the small town of Westview when young university students turn up dead on campus, soon Y/N seems to be connected to the victims somehow. Determined to find the author of these atrocities, she can trust no one, not her family, friends, and even less the local police, except the only person really willing to help her, the professor Agatha.

Warnings: Blood, emotional pain, a bit dark compared to what I usual write

Word count: +1900

"My childish and watery eyes struggle to not shed any more tears, they have told me to shut up, depriving me of the first instinct, of pain, of being able to feel and manifest it as a normal child. At this point sounds like a privilege, which this, despite all the privileges life has afforded me, I don't have. Facing the reflection of the bathroom mirror I sigh, face flushed and sore, all I can do is wipe away the tears with the back of the hand. Pull myself together, that's what we do..." 

The beams of light are sneaky, walking slowly through the gaps in the heavy doors as the sun rises and perches majestically in the sky. Beating against the young faces that cross the campus, walking fast to escape the heat or late for the next class. Everyone seems to be in a hurry, stressed as they stand with energy drinks or disposable coffee cups, sometimes aspirin. The light also hits inside the buildings, reflecting in the large windows and reaching the cold floors of the halls, mimicking the shapes of the windows, small dust floating in the glow. That's what Y/N focuses on, eyes focused on the tiny particles, struggling to get away from the foolish conversation of her friends, better, classmates who are almost friends, all sitting at the end of the east side hallway. Not that they were boring or uninteresting, just the opposite, each one has peculiarities, talents and intelligence that made them well-known personalities at Westview University. All have something to stand out in a group so distinguished. PhD in astrophysics, two club presidents, one of the top student program interns and then her. There is nothing she stands out in academically, her grades are good, above average and she is enrolled in extra classes, but still no trophies on the dormitory shelves, no certificates signed by the dean and even less honorable mentions at events. It's as if the gold stars have adopted her as part of them.That smallest little star behind all the others.  

"A coin for your thoughts." Wanda whispers, leaning in close to her. 

"Oh..." in a jolt she breaks out of the trance, turning to find the four of them staring at her in confusion "I'm not thinking about anything important, just a exam this week. We have only two weeks and the new professor is already going to administer one."  

"Let's pretend that you don't already know all the questions, I'm sure you'll get a new maximum. Again." Monica shrugged and went back to talking about something with Jimmy, both law students and members of the same club. 

"She's being a little salty because they lost the debate last weekend." was the first time Darcy spoke up after minutes of conversation, just so distracted as she was in her thick books "Maybe it's the new class you're worried about? Mythology, right? Cosmogony or origin?"  

"Cosmogony, it complements the other classes. And it's easier." 

The brunette laughs and nods negatively, turning to the book without giving further explanation, only to be stared at until she feels uncomfortable enough to say something more 

"The professor is a executioner. I've thought about signing up for extra credit, good thing I attended a class before that, the content is great, but she's strict and even the brightest are having some trouble keeping up. They say that someone has already fainted in class from being so nervous," she relates the last part in a whisper, not doubting the veracity of the event after witnessing an entire class "You're getting into a jam."  

"We're getting in a jam!" Wanda lets out a yelp and straightens her posture, staring at Y/N in disbelief "You! You talked me into this class, I'm screwed, I don't know how to handle pressure well..." her eyes widen and she starts rambling on about how they could get rid of these extra classes.  

"I'm sorry." is all the youth can say, receiving a sympathetic look from Lewis, for the situation and also for what she will face in the semester that had just started. 

After a few long and torturous minutes Wanda is finally calmed down and soon forgets the subject when asked about her next project, starting to talk fervently about the script, costumes and all the inspirations. Monica and Jimmy continue on their own business, trying to come to a consensus about something, Darcy pretends to pay attention to the friend, a podcast playing in her headset at full volume, while Y/N tries to really pay attention. It's the least she can do after getting her into a university jam. The mythology class was chosen precisely for ease and practicality, for being complementary she swore it would be the piece of cake. And her friend joined the idea to complement the grade. And now they both might be screwed in the hands of a executioner professor who managed to scare away even Darcy Lewis, one of the most intelligent and persistent people she has ever met, this is a very bad sign. The only bright side is that the two will face this together. 

"Have you ever watched “The Truman Show”? It's my biggest inspiration for this play, but instead of not knowing the protagonist will be super-aware about everything that happens..." she rambles on barely noticing the commotion of students running through the halls towards one of the exits of the building, the back one that leads to a garden, an area almost abandoned because it's far away from the others.  

"What the hell..." Darcy whispers getting up, trying to follow what happens with eyes, unsuccessfully as soon a small group comes together limiting the view.  

"Let's see what happens, the last time a group got together like this was when two professors had a fight in the yard." Monica says already gathering her things, she runs into the crowd as she zips up the backpack, then looks back facing her friends "Let's go before we lose the gossip. Sounds like a big one." 

Jimmy follows her, running side by side, Wanda is the next to join in, perhaps it was one of those scandals so big and/or complex that it could use and cause a commotion, either in the university or audience. The brunette helps Y/N to get up and together they walk nonchalantly, a background of curiosity leading them to the others, but they don't usually show it as much as their friends. Darcy slips the arm around Y/N's waist as they walk past the riot so they don't lose each other, soft fingers gripping the skin under the thin blouse, which causes shivers and makes her feel warm, completely awkward to the touch. Some guys from the football team push everyone around trying to squeeze in to see, at the same time a group of freshmen run in the opposite direction, indecipherable expressions on their faces, something close to fear or disgust, maybe a mixture of both. A girl crashes into one of the players and falls at the feet of the two university girls, she tries to get up, but before being able to, the body betrays her and soon the entire contents of the breakfast are on the floor. Y/N's eyes widen and she takes a step backwards in pure shock, behind the new girl other students fall. 

Everything happens so fast to assimilate even though the images form in slow motion in her attentive eyes, a space opens up between the crowd like the sea opened up and all she finds is red. Red... in the green of the freshly cut grass... in the gray of the perfectly carved marble of the fountain in the center of the garden. The poet, that woman created by human hands and who gives life to the majestic decoration, holds a book in one hand while the other holds a jug where the water flows, filling and entering every space with the limpid liquidity, which beats against the structure and can be heard even amidst the confusion. Murmurs that slowly become desperate cries when witnessing such a scene, the clear flowing water is equally red to the fat drops that drip from the head of the man resting on the poet's lap, similar to a painting in which two lovers share an artistically intimate moment. If it weren't for the blood and the visible wound anyone could tell that he, with closed eyes and neutral expression, even though wearing an expensive suit, is deeply asleep. The sun beats against the aged face and she is sure that she knows him, her gaze narrows in the direction of the scene, steps guide her closer without even realizing it and she ignores Darcy's calls to come back, as well as the curious friends and the other students on the way. Next thing she knows she is just a few feet from the fountain, the red water almost reaching over the rounded edges and falling to her shoes. It doesn't matter, not now.  

The chancellor of the university... is dead. 

Jareth Redd is dead. 

She resists the urge to touch him or pinch herself just to verify that it's nothing but a dream, imagining that she might have fallen asleep between Wanda's speech about costumes, head lying on Darcy's shoulder, passed out deeply into another dream she would never in life dare tell anyone about. Her hands tremble in nervousness and eyes turn opaque as she realizes that above the tall man's lifeless body is something rectangular, thin and patterned. A traditional tarot card, the king sitting on a throne, a raised sword in hand. Justice.   

Y/N knows what no one else knows and for a millisecond she has to control herself not to show any emotions, compressing lips in an attempt, avoiding a small smile to form. 

At the same moment a loud, shrill and primal noise is heard, someone screaming at the top of thei lungs expressing the most genuine pain and shock. When turn around she finds a middle-aged woman kneeling on the grass, wearing dark clothes in shades of purple and black, her dark hair a mess and blue eyes filled with tears that soon run down the pale face behind thick glasses. She has never seen her before, but she is sure that was someone close to him, because among dozens of people she is the only one to show any kind of reaction other than fear or disgust at the sight of horror. And when the woman's throat dries up there is no more voice for screams, her pain becomes muted, visually excruciating. Without a second thought the girl takes a tissue from her purse and approaches, extending the cloth in hand to the woman.  

"Ma'am..." she whispers trying to get her attention, who lifts her tearful gaze staring deep into the soul. 

And before she can realize Y/N is in the arms of the unknown woman, in a tight embrace, nails digging in her back, face hidden against neck, hot tears wetting skin and the collar of the t-shirt, loud sobs, low cries and many whispers denying to herself what she has just seen. Although she can't sympathize with the pain, the student hugs her back. Her fingers enter the dark brown hair and they hold each other even tighter, soon she is crying together. For a completely different reason. At least there would be someone to cry and mourn Jareth Redd's death, more than that bastard really deserved.  

"He's gone..." 

taglist: @tryingmybest233333 @wastdstime @scarr0713 @dvrkhcld @heidss @xvyzxx @minszhuo @quailbagutte @imaginesmultifandoms @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34 @Starbucks-06 @Willow_Nox @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @louderfortheback

Join my taglist here ^^

#agatha harkness x reader #fanfiction #agatha harkness #wandavision #simili

[milesworld96]

My Predictions on who the Devil is or more so who I want it to be

LISTEN PLEASE HEAR ME OUT. We have Roddy going around claiming that he’s Adam’s Bestfriend, as well as MJF. But why don’t we bring back someone who also had a very close relationship with Adam Cole?

We have Adam appear at World’s End for MJF, have MJF win against Joe WITHOUT cheating this time. And after the match everything goes dark and the Devil comes out, the Devil attacks MJF; having Joe already left the arena and Adam being forced to watch his tag partner being harmed once again without him being able to help. After beating down on Max, the Devil faces Adam and removes his mask. Revealing my wife Kyle O’Reily. We go down the angle where Kyle is angry at Adam for choosing Max over Roddy when they had been together longer than he has with Max. (Referencing to their Undisputed Era/Elite days; ofc without Bobby this time💔). This spirals into another heart breaking and sob inducing story between Adam and Max; where Adam is conflicted between choosing the Undisputed Elite and Max once more, as both sides keep pressuring themselves onto Adam.

Eventually it comes to the point where Adam is forced to choose between them, at first appearing to Choose Max over them; before pulling the same shit he did to Roderick on NXT. Betraying Max, and reuniting the Undisputed Elite officially on AEW. This would lead ofc to a title match for Kyle O’Reily and Maxwell; with Roderick & Adam by his side (maybe the Kingdom if they still w Roderick at this time, we could replace Bobby with them ig). This would leave Maxwell all alone, and realize that everyone is truly against him and that he has no one left (since the Acclaimed basically said they wanted nothing to do with him too). So this betrayal of Adam and reunification of the Undisputed Elite will lead to the demise of Adamjf (when Cole gets better) AND the return of heel Max. Cus as much as I love babyface Maxwell, I need the douchebag he once was back asap.

Overall, if it really is Kyle O’Reily and I somehow manifested this into reality I think the adamjf story would be one of the greatest stories told tbh. I just really need the closure for them. And I rlly just want Kyle O’Reily back, I miss my wife💔💔. I’m not that good at making stories so I hoped this made sense💀 or atleast sounds a lil realistic

And here is the one that’s most likely to be true, but I already know the twitter fucks are gonna be pissed ab 💀💀

This is mostly just do to all the speculations and ppl (me) making fun of the whole real glass situation at All In, but what’s actually insane is the amount of glass was actually used and broken throughout the beatings people have taken with the Devil’s henchmen😭 like, Anthony being thrown through a glass window, Max having a glass bottle broken over him, and Hangman being dropped into a car windshield. Absolutely insane at how much glass they are using, that it’s honestly making me wanna believe that they are purposely using real glass as a symbol for Jack Perry.

Story wise I have no clue as to how they are gonna get this to work, and how they’d continue with it if they do reveal it to be Jack. Cause I know a lot of ppl are gonna be let down (not me I’ll just be happy my gf came back from war), but if it is Jack I hope tk knows what he is doing. And I HOPE that they can actually turn this into an interesting feud if this becomes reality 🙏🙏

But he could also just return and reignite the feud between him and Christian as well. But idk!!! I just need him back💔

#if you couldn’t tell I just rlly miss them #WHEN ARE THEY COMING BACK FROM WAR #I WANT KYLE OREILY AND JACK PERRY BACK PLEASE🩷🩷🩷 #kyle o'reilly #jack perry #jungleboy #undisputed era #undisputed elite #adam cole #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #roderick strong #the devil aew #aew #I might cry if it’s WARDLOW #I DONT want that please

[nrdmssgs]

Ok I'm gonna request something! Put it at the back of your list or feel free to ignore!

And my request is... free reign. As in, whatever you feel like writing, to your heart's content, involving Riot or not, but fluffy happy things! Love you! <3

Masterlist

Fluff, a bit of comedy.

Pairings: Ghost x Riot (Riot belongs to @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot ) And a bit of Nikolai x Zhar from A heart full of pity

Summary: Friends gathering. Silly, happy, peaceful. Riot and Ghost just having their little moment of domestic bliss. Nik and Zhar forgetting for one evening, that they have Chimeras to subdue.

AN: This happens wa-a-ay after A heart and your story. Love, I remember, you wanted many kisses. I'm sorry, I really tried, but I didn't want Ghost to feel uncomfortable. At the same time, I wanted them all to spend some time together. So it was either\either situation. How about a pact? If you need a story without my chaotic guys - just send me a req, that says "kisses" and I shall deliver.

“I feel like lately I’ve been asking this question too much, but do I need to know?” Ghost didn’t try to spy on Riot, but he couldn’t make himself unsee that vulgar cover of a paperback book, she just purchased in a duty-free shop.

“That’s a gift from us.” Riots wears a mask, but Ghost learned to read in her expression by this time. If he had to bet, he’d say, she has the most mischievous grin right now and this doesn’t bode well.

“You'll spoil them, and they'll invite you every chance they get...” Simon side-eyed her, but it seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

“Oh, don't get jealous, I'll take you with me occasionally.”

***

They both are secretly happy, no one met them: Nikolai may have been a madly skilled pilot, but his driving style wasn’t something, one would wish to start their relaxing weekend with, and Zhar would immediately start talking about work. Ghost and Riot would maybe not admit it openly, but they lived for these little domestic moments, they got now: seeking for their car rental desk, buying shitty, but so much needed coffee in small thin paper cups and enjoying it on a parking lot, squinting at the bright rays of morning sun, checking their maps, lazily going through unfamiliar radio stations. This is such a desperately needed routine, they both seem to do everything slightly slower to savor every moment.

Riot sets coordinates of their destination and explains something to Ghost, pointing to a monitor on their dashboard, but he seems to not really listen. He looks at her, not tearing eyes from her face for a single moment, and almost unconsciously reaches out and caresses her cheek. An urge to feel her proximity, suppressed by Ghosts power of will, finally manifests in simple, careful and soft touch. It disarms, yet brings peace, catches her off-guard - yet comforts.

They pull to a lonely road that winds through the forest and slowly climbs uphill. Riot looks from her phone to Ghost, since there are no exits from their road anyway.

"You think, he is reckless enough to somehow tinker building of an entire road, just to be able to get to his house comfortably?" She wouldn't be surprised, if Ghost shared her opinion.

"I think, when it comes to Nikolai - it's better not to ask or think too much, if you want to sleep soundly." Ghost glances around, but the road is caged between two thick walls of forest trees, so there is not much to look at anyway.

When they finally reach their destination, Riot opens her door and takes a slow breath. Deep inside, she is ready to admit, that even if some sketchy schemes were involved, while building this all - it was totally worth it. A dark silhouette of a spacious house hides behind pine trees. Distant bird trills and the echo of a babbling brook bounce off the mountain wall, behind them. Apart from that - this place is immersed in a peaceful silence. A freshness of the mountain wind, and a scent of wet pine needles and resin fill the air.

"Long ago there was a safe house somewhere around here. We used to stay there for a few days with Price," Ghosts breaks the silence, coming from the car.

"It's still there. Well, almost there - I converted it into a guest house, so there was a bit of renovation and moving included." A familiar accented voice comes from behind. Riot and Ghost simultaneously turn towards the sound and see Nikolai smiling broadly at them. He emerges from somewhere in the woods, wiping a military knife with a cloth.

Nik nods to Ghost, but when Riot greets him the same way - he shakes his head, extending hands to embrace her. "Idi syuda, solntse. My skuchali po tebe.*" Pulling her into a bear hug, he was still careful enough to keep distance between Riot and a knife in his hand. Any other person on his place would die right after that, under Ghosts death glare, but Nikolai didn't pay too much attention to that.

Leading them into his house, Nikolai invites Riot and Ghost to make themselves comfortable on the veranda or in the living room. "Feel free to explore house and raid the wine cellar. I have some business to tend to." Nikolai was about to leave them two alone, but Riot stopped him on the doorstep.

"Ahem, Nik? You didn't forget anyone?" As shifty as Nikolai sometimes got - even he couldn't escape her, when Riot wanted answers.

"I didn't tell her about you coming here, otherwise, I'd have to tie poor thing up to keep her away from kitchen and cleaning. So she's working somewhere back in town. I think, she'll be back in an hour or so." When Nik talked about Zhar - he always smiled, even when he was obviously not happy with how restless she could get.

"You don't tie a former TF lieutenant up if you value your life," noticed Riot, following Nikolai to the kitchen counter, where some vegetables were laying besides a cook book.

"Oh, I highly recommend it - believe me, those workaholics sometimes don't understand other languages." Nik found a recipe, he was looking for, and left to fetch the rest ingredients.

"¿Qué tonto del culo escribió esto?*" Her voice was so mad, Nikolai shuddered. When he turned back to Riot - Ghost was already by her side.

"You see this? See?! ¡Insultan a toda la nación con estas tonterías!* And it says 'Spanish cuisine' right here! 'Spanish', my ass..." Riot hissed through her teeth as she showed Ghost the recipe.

Before Nikolai could understand, what was happening, he and Ghost were already standing before cutting boards, which Riot loaded with veggies and meat and gave each of them detailed instructions on what to do next. Nik wanted to ask Simon, what was going on and how does one end this, but Ghost was ahead of him. "Don't complain and just do whatever she commands."

Riot stood beside them for a while, supervising the preparation of the ingredients. Convinced that both men were doing exactly what they were told, she turned around. "I guess, I'll raid that wine cellar of yours after all. Let's hope, there is at least some decent Rioja wine there..."

"Fifth row from the bottom, left side," guided her Nik, not turning away from his cutting board.

***

In an hour, another car parked before the house. Zhar flew in with such speed and hurried to the second floor that she did not notice the guests.

"Nebo moye*, I have a surprise for you," called her Nikolai.

"Niigard is out! So as long as your surprise is not a seasoned tactical operator - it has to wait for a bit, ok?" As expected, Zhar was constantly throat deep in her work.

"How about two of them?" Ghost suddenly intervened in their conversation. For a moment, everything felt silent. But then they heard fast steps descending back to the first floor. Zhar was so happy to see them both - she completely ignored the fact, that Ghosts hands were red of the meat, that he chopped, and she shook them anyway. And when she saw Riot - she couldn't stop smiling, hugging her tightly.

"Ok-ok." She finally let go of Riot. "What are we cooking?"

"They are cooking, darling. And we don't lift anything heavier than wine glasses today, so let's go." Riot is about to lead her out of the kitchen, when she notices Nikolai desperately but silently pointing at Zhars pocket. "Yes, this," Riot takes out a work phone from Zhar's pocket and leaves it on the kitchen counter, "This is obviously way heavier, so it stays here." When they both leave, Nikolai turns to Ghost. "Lieutenant, Riot is an angel, and you are a blessed man."

***

At dinner, they all have a relaxed slow talk, remembering how each of them learned to cook. Ghost tells about his and Price's nighttime forays into the kitchen, and the others can't help but laugh. Then Zhar remembers how her parents taught her how to can vegetables so that they would last for ages.

"How come you never told me, you could cook that?" asks her Nik.

"What, that would have helped me in bargaining for higher pay rate in Chimera?" Maybe it's an outcome of Riots good choice of wine, but Zhar seems to be in so rare for her mischievous state of mind.

"Whoa, that reminded me of something!" Riot grins and leaves them for a short moment. When she comes back, Ghosts notices the book, she purchased before their flight, in her hands.

"Before anything happens here - I have to state, I have nothing to do with that." Simon grunts, glancing at the book cover. Zhar and Nikolai look at him in confusion.

"Don't be so dramatic, Ghost, it's just a small gift to make our friends happy. It's... kind of a manual to that one, I guess." Riot points at Nik, but gives book to Zhar.

"Hm, never knew, Nik comes with a manual. I should check if there is a guarantee as well, o-o-oh..." At first, Zhar falls silent, her eyebrows rising in surprise when she sees the cover. Nikolai tries to peek over her shoulder, but she gets up and moves away, leisurely leafing through the book. With each page turned, her face becomes more mysterious. "Ok, there is no guarantee here. But apparently there is 'an exciting and sensual story about the leader of the Russian mafia and a killer who received a contract for him, but found herself falling for him'."

"Riot, solntse moye*, I love you with all my heart, but what the hell?" Nikolai couldn't fight off laughter, asking that.

"I read maybe 2-3 pages, and guys, this has the most hilarious set of all clichés about Russian guys and everyday life. I'm serious, think of all those American movies from 90-s with a scary 'Bandit Ivan' and multiply it by ten - this is how bad it is. Oh, and it has the most inaccurate depiction of armed conflicts, you've ever seen, I promise! I laughed so hard - I just had to share this with you." As Riot explains why she had chosen such a gift, Ghost begins to quietly regret that he hadn't had time to steal a bit of reading. But he immediately changes his mind when Zhar asks if smut-chapters can be considered a manual as well.

"Ok, that's enough of reading for today, love, give it to me!" Nikolai jumps up and tries to grab the book, but Zhar dodges and runs deep into the house.

Ghost gets up from the table, following the two with a glance, and, taking advantage of the fact that the room iss now empty, puts his arm around Riot's shoulders.

"I don't know what scares me more: the fact that these two are older than us and have a private army at their disposal, or that you somehow know how to turn them into giggling teenagers chasing each other in a minute..." Simon whispers in her ear.

Riot relaxes and rests her head on his shoulder. "I guess, I just know how to make menacing beings harmless."

"Oh, that you've mastered for sure," purrs Simon, squeezing her shoulders ever so lightly, before letting her go, as he hears Nik coming back.

"Ghost, I don't know what Price was teaching all of you, but your former colleague almost broke my arm back there." Nikolai runs his hand through his hair, brushing back strands that had fallen on his forehead.

"You knew what you were going for, Nik. She is your blessing now." Ghost scoffed.

"And for that I'll be thankful to every single one of you guys till my last day." Nikolai smiled and offered to escort Riot and Ghost to the guest house, so they could finally rest.

They stepped off the veranda onto a boardwalk winding through the trees. Nikolai promised to turn on the lighting of this path at night. After 15 minutes they came to a small but incredibly cozy wooden house with panoramic windows.

"This place has changed quite a bit since you were last here, Ghost." Nik unlocked the door and tossed the keys to the lieutenant. "Damn, I completely forgot, I was sharpening knives here and left the machine." He hurried to the table in the hall, but Riot quickly caught up with him and grabbed his sleeve.

"Hey, this isn't just a simple knife sharpening machine? If that's what I'm thinking, don't you dare take it with you..." Riot moved Nik aside and proceeded to sit on a couch before a shiny tool station.

"Well, I guess, have fun, guys?" Nikolai chuckled, and left Riot and Ghost alone.

***

Evening silence was broken only by the creak of crickets in the forest and the measured hissing with which the knife blade met the sharpener. Riot took her time; she was mesmerized by the beauty of her knife, that showed through with every move. Simon walked somewhere in the back of the room, immersed in exploring the library that Nik had left in the former safe house. Although it still felt safe - it now looked like the most luxurious version of a safe house possible.

"What are you reading back there," asked Riot, not looking away from the blade in her hands.

"Some poem." Ghosts voice is suddenly much closer, than she initially expected it to be.

"For me the world holds no other delight Than the ring and glitter of your dear name. No rope will be noosed, No stairwell leapt in. Nor will bullet or poison take my life. No power over me, Your glance excepting, Has the blade of any knife." He takes a pause and Riot freezes, heeling his bare hand on her back.

"Oh, I know this one...

Descansar elefante cansado querrá - Sobre la arena quemada se tumbará. Mas que no sea tu amor no tengo otro sol, Y yo no sé, con quién y dónde estás.*" She shifts to the side giving Ghost more space, as he moves to sit beside her. "You know, it's a poem about quite a brutal break-up? That woman, this guy writes about in his poem - she broke him."

Ghost hums. "So instead of books on history or weaponry, those two are stashing stories of broken people... But what strikes me the most in this situation is how many keys your hands bear. Somehow you know even this poem, buried deep in their library." He takes Riots free hand and presses lips against her palm.

"Careful, lieutenant, these hands bear freshly sharpened blades as well." Riot smiles predatory and in one motion straddles him.

"Still worth a risk." Ghost pulls her slightly up, brings closer. His fingers splayed over her lower back. Riots breath slowing as the space between them folds together. Ghosts eyes lid, touching his lips to hers, drinking in her sigh - an answer to some long-standing question and she... she breathes him in. He stills, and then only the warmth of his hands gathering her small frame dissolves the shivery anticipation with the warmth of his relief.

Idi syuda, solntse. My skuchali po tebe. - Come here, sunshine, we missed you.

¿Qué tonto del culo escribió esto? - What piece of shit wrote this?

¡Insultan a toda la nación con estas tonterías! - They insult the entire nation with this nonsense!

Nebo moye - My sky/heaven

solntse moye - my sun

Full text of quoted poem in English and in Spanish

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mv2 #cod x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #mw2 fanfic #cod nikolai #nikolai cod #cod x oc #simon riley mw2 #cod simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley imagine

[aerodaltonimperial]

Hook trying to find the perfect Valentine's gift.

(Okay I think soft girl time is over after this LMAO don't choke on how sugary it is)

He is not good at this. He just isn't built for it; it doesn't come naturally, nor easily, and thinking too hard about it manages to summon an embarrassment that heats the sides of his neck. And he would absolutely have fled already if Anthony hadn't been his ride, if there were any other options besides waiting awkwardly in the aisle overfull with pink and red, with hearts and streamers, with balloons and bears with inane sentiments stamped across them.

Wow, he is really, really not good at this.

"Yo," Dante says, holding up a card that looks just like a hundred others, the same nauseating color of magenta. "Heartfelt or funny?"

"Heartfelt," Anthony says. "Always go for the heart."

Dante looks at Hook next, and oh, he expects an answer. Shit. He wants an answer?

"Uh," Hook tries, tongue fumbling behind his teeth. "Same?"

"Okay," Dante says, and nods, like he's satisfied. "Maybe like a poem or something."

Hook cannot think of anything less romantic than a greeting card poem typed up on a piece of cardstock marked 300% higher than it should be, but Anthony makes a noise of affirmation. "Always a good move."

Is it? Is this something people really do? Like, not to laugh at, but legitimately because they think it's nice? Or, worse, that it's expected?

Shit. Shit, is this expected?

His palms are getting sweaty the longer he stands in the aisle that's exploded in glitter and manifestations of what people think love is, a representation that Hook has never understood. He can't find words on a good day; how is he supposed to be able to find the right ones on a card while under pressure? Nothing is ever going to actually hit close enough to mean anything: thanks for putting up with me even though I don't ever say the things you probably deserve to hear?

Shit. He's starting to panic. Anthony and Dante are both pulling cards out and reading them, putting them back and reaching for more, and Hook eyes the door longingly. He can't do this. He really, really can't do this.

Anthony seems to finally notice his discomfort. "Yo. Hook. Y'okay?"

Hook nods once, and hopes it's convincing. The two figure out what they want to buy and start towards the registers, and the further they get away from the ticking Valentine's time bomb, the better. Hook's nausea doesn't dissipate until after they've paid and are heading back to the rental car.

He slides into the back without fuss, mostly just so he can tug his phone free and open up the message thread. He shakes a little as he writes, do I need to give you something for Valentine's Day?

It takes a minute for the response to come through: It is a very strange holiday, isn't it? No real connection to anything. Humans are fond of spending money on each other.

but do I need to? Hook replies. I don't know how to do this.

No, Danhausen doesn't think so, Hook’s phone displays, and Hook exhales so quickly it burns his throat. Danhausen does not need cards with silly things written on them.

okay, Hook types. And then adds, I would rather just spend time with you.

Really? comes the follow-up. That's fortunate, because all Danhausen wants is to see Hook, too.

Hook grins, biting down on his lower lip. He's glad he doesn't need to worry himself sick over finding a card that somehow manages to be sentimental without cheesy, meaningful without specific.

He might not have very many words, and most of them might get stuck before he can force them out, but he knows the ones that really matter. When he finally sees Danhausen a few hours later, backstage, he grabs his wrist and tugs him into one of the dark hallways before throwing his arms around Danhausen’s shoulders.

"Hey," he whispers, tangling his fingers in the back of Danhausen’s hair.

"Hey," Danhausen responds, with a low note of surprise. He sounds pleased.

Hook sucks in a deep breath. "I love you, you know?"

"Ah," Danhausen says, and laughs. His arms, a mirror of Hook’s own, tighten. "This is about your question from earlier."

"No, this is about you," Hook tells him.

"Well, in that case, Danhausen loves Hook, too. But Hook already knew that."

Hook did, but there's something about hearing it that helps the concept settle down into his bones, becoming part of him. And maybe that's the whole point of the smarmy cards and overpriced bouquets, at the heart of things.

Still. He'd rather just be like this, wrapped around each other for long enough that the endorphins are triggered in his brain, flooding his limbs with warmth.

"Mm," Danhausen says. His palm flattens against the nape of Hook’s neck. "Hook is Danhausen’s favorite person."

"Ditto," Hook says, and laughs when Danhausen pinches his skin.

#back to your regularly scheduled manpain after this!!!

[redemptioninchaos]

Tess turned her head when the cafe’s bell rung, then stood up immediately. An athletic woman with dark brown skin and long, straight black hair arranged in a bushy pony tail walked in. She had hazel eyes and was a few inches taller than Tess. The woman’s shoulders were fairly broad for someone her height. She had a runner’s physique, what with moderately defined calves and thighs and a lean torso. Her face had an oblong shape with soft features all around.

She was dressed in khaki shorts, a blue T-shirt, and white tennis shoes, carrying a brown shoulder bag as she walked in. Unlike Tess’s restrained smile, the other woman’s grin reached ear to ear as she approached the angel. She picked Tess up as the two hugged, not a difficult task given how light the angel was. Tess had asked her not to do that in the past, but she quickly found that it was a losing battle. Being lifted from the ground got Tess to smile wider, though.

Bonita Salvadora was Sergio Salvadora’s cousin. When Tess was a mortal, she dated Sergio for four years in New York City. Upon death, Tess was reborn as an angel, took on a new name, and enacted El’Radyon’s will in Philadelphia. While working at her angelic mentor’s cafe, she met Bonita, who posed as a police officer for the PMPD. Initially, Tess was aloof towards Bonita as she was with everyone else. However, Bonita saw...something in Tess that drew her closer. Bonita mentioned that her family had what she called “Salvadora pride.” Sergio’s manifested in not asking for help until he had literally no other option. Bonita’s pride was in peeling people’s layers one at a time until they felt better about themselves. Could it have been manipulation tactics she learned in the force?

Eventually, Bonita and Tess revealed to each other their true professions. Bonita wasn’t just a normal beat cop, but an FBI agent, one who specifically dealt with magical manners. She was what the aetherial community around Philly called a “dreamer,” or a mundane with no magical powers. That being said, she had a keen sense of magic auras, which aided in her supernatural investigations. Tess revealed her angelic mantle to Bonita, which somehow only strengthened their bond.

“So good to see you,” said Bonita, finally withdrawing from the hug.

“It hasn’t been that long, has it?”

“It’s been almost a year.” Bonita chuckled. “I guess time feels different for you.”

“Maybe.” Tess gestured to the booth she claimed, the both of them sitting down. Though it had been almost a year, the two texted and called each other, keeping each other up to date with their latest exploits. Tess knew how Bonita liked her coffee after serving it to her for over a year, a half-caff latte with a dollop of cream. It sat on Bonita’s side of the table, ready to drink. “How’s Sergio doing?”

“Oh, just as busy as usual. It’s gotten to the point where I have to pay him to socialize. I told him he’d only have to pay a quarter rent if he went to an Independence Day party downtown. He just said he’d ‘think about it.’”

A corner of Tess’s mouth turned upward in a slight smile that quickly vanished. “It’s because of me that he’s like that. If I had to guess, he’s keeping himself busy to forget about me.”

“Please stop blaming yourself.” Bonita lightly squeezed Tess’s forearm. “I’ve said it once; I’ll say it again. Both of you did all you could. You both...fought like giants to get out of a bad situation. The only person to blame is gone now. You made sure of that.”

Tess frowned harder. While she did make sure Ariadna was dead and gone for good, she was unable to forgive herself for not saving more people when she and her cronies invaded Philadelphia.

She shook her head. She had a few dossiers in a small folder on the table. She opened the folder to reveal a tall, youthful-looking man with white hair, as well as a bipedal wolf being wearing the same clothes as him. “I don’t know why El’Radyon sent me here, but when I first came to town I heard of werewolf attacks on civilians. This is Jasper Ashwolf, the first person I’ve talked to here.”

“Ashwolf?” Bonita scanned the pictures. “I suppose his family doesn’t try to hide their background.”

“He’s nothing like Reagan. Not only that, but Jasper is a misanthrope, and he hates feds. Wouldn’t recommend talking to him. That’s gonna be a common theme today. As standoffish as he was, he’s not a threat. Just works at the local railroad and keeps to himself, or tries to.” She flipped the page, revealing a white-haired human man as well as an anthropomorphic jackal with black fur. “How much do you know about Egyptian mythology?”

“Anubis, right? Is that supposed to be him?” As optimistic and open-minded as she tried to be, even Bonita would have had trouble believing that Tess talked to a literal god who wasn’t El’Radyon before that point. She quickly realized that if Tess said something, she knew what she was talking about.

Tess nodded. “God of the dead. Has a list of all the people in the world with their death dates. He confronted me after I saved some people, which meant certain things in his book got changed. He wasn’t happy and tried to convince me to stop.” She scowled, then look at Bonita. Clearly she didn’t, and wouldn’t, stop. “I’d recommend staying away from him as well, not just because he could be a threat, but because he’s a cocksucker. He wonders why nobody worships the Egyptian gods anymore, but also never does anything worth worshiping. Somehow, however, he bore a son.”

She flipped the page, showing a man shorter than the previous one, with green eyes and light grey hair. Right next to that picture was a near spitting image of Anubis in his jackal form. “This is Cobalt. I don’t know much about him, other than he takes after his father in all the wrong ways. He runs a gun shop called Cobalt’s Imports close to downtown.” She frowned as she recalled something else. “He was in his jackal form and sat on me when I waited for a bus, then got angry at me when I assumed he was a fancily dressed canine.”

Bonita chuckled, bringing her hand up to her mouth. “What?”

“That was my first interaction with him, and Anubis. That’s how I found out something wasn’t right with either of them.” She flipped the page again, showing a raging werewolf running through a parking lot. “This is Jasper Ashwolf’s father, Jonathan, last seen killing civilians at the local bowling alley. The two of them contended alongside two others I’ll get into later. Jasper subdued him, but Jonathan’s whereabouts are currently unknown. I’ve heard a few things about another Ashwolf named Shirou, but I haven’t found him yet.”

“I’ve heard about that incident,” Bonita answered solemnly. “I’m supposed to investigate that further. Do you have anything—?” She was interrupted by a call from Reagan, her handler. She gave an apologetic look to Tess before saying, “I’ll have to take this. It was good seeing you again, though. Can we continue this later?”

Tess nodded, closing her folder. “Remember to take your own advice sometime.” Another rare grin from the angel. Bonita’s skin being too dark to tell visually didn’t matter; Tess knew that Bonita’s own advice in regards to Reagan would have made the agent blush just thinking about it.

Bonita answered the call, hugging Tess with her free arm, then headed out of the cafe. “Hello? Yes, I’m on my way now.”

@lycanspirited

@dimensionhoppinghybrids

#tesiraphel #bonita

[amarantine-amirite]

Why What How

It started in study hall. I found myself stuck on my English assignment. We had to write an essay based on the prompt Darkness without light is an abyss; light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side. “What the hell does that mean?"

"It means there's two sides to every story", whispered the girl sitting next to me.

Over the years, I’ve come to dislike there’s two sides to every story. I've seen it used as an excuse to get away with misbehaving far too often. Last year, my dad got a promotion and was offered a house as a signing bonus. Problem was, the house hadn’t been built yet and never would be built because the building company ran out of money. He complained, but all they ever told him was there’s two sides to every story. Anybody who’s ever been bullied has heard the bully’s parent say there’s two sides to every story when they really mean you’re lying. “That's never true, that's something only bullies say to get themselves out of trouble"

The teacher heard both of us chittering. “Focus on the job at hand” she said to both of us

“But I can’t”

“Why?”

I am not normally this paranoid or this irritable. There’s only seems to happen when there’s something that I can’t talk about bothering me and I’m using whatever is irritating me right now is a manifestation for that. Most of the time, I can’t even verbalize the underlying thing that’s bugging me. This time, it just somehow slid out. “I think my house moves around when I'm not looking.”

The teacher looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears. "You're joking.”

"No, I’m not,” I replied. Every day, I wake up and something is slightly off. A vase, my laptop, and even the house seem to slightly move every day. Sometimes, entire rooms appear disappear randomly.

"Take your meds".

I can’t. I seem to be allergic to the common medication administered for delusions in schizophrenia. Nobody can fathom that. If you mention you’re allergic to your pills, all the registers in peoples minds is does not compute.

They tell you to take it. They hound you into taking it. They don’t understand it could kill me to take my medication.

But now, I feel vindicated. It's not my imagination. I now have proof that the house is changing when I sleep. I got up to go to the bathroom last night and I walked past my dining room. I noticed the chairs had been pushed out. That’s odd, I thought, I could’ve sworn I pushed them in before I went to bed.

It soon occurred to me that this is what I was talking about when I said that my house moves when I'm not looking. Instantly, I went back upstairs to get my phone and took video. I went back to bed I slept for a couple more hours, I woke up again to get a snack, grab my phone, and pointed at the dining room. Every single piece of furniture in the room now hung from the ceiling.

I woke up today to find the dining room gone altogether. I took pictures of that, too. I also managed to get a picture of the teeth that just grew out of the ceiling in the basement.

I pulled out my phone and showed the teacher the photos and videos of what was going on at home. Her face went white and her jaw dropped. “Who said that,” she gasped.

“Said what?”

She told me to rewind the video, and it was only then that we heard somebody say “I have the body of a pig“ followed by a snort.

It spooked me. I didn’t hear this when I took the video.

Next, I showed the teacher the picture of the teeth coming out of the basement ceiling. She passed out upon noticing a pig like hominid at the bottom of the stairs.

@oriandcate

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #creepy #short story #short fiction

[dumbbitchfrommars]

im tired... too tired to write but smart enough to know i need to write these thoughts down before i forget them.

so much has happened in the last few days. the last week, even. it feels like weeks have gone by.

i am so blessed, lucky and thankful for my friend. she is the most perfect taurus and completely aligned with me to bounce off my energy and listen and understand and hear me and be able to have fun with me ! look at us go. truly manifested the female friendship id been craving for years.

the naughty side of me has been awakened. the devil has been brought out by a dirty, nasty libra man. and im not angry at it and im not embarrassed by it one bit. i actually embraced it and had so much fun with it. and its so unlike me and its so unlike the others before him. he was crazy but focussed on me in exactly the ways i needed him to, too. even when the first time i didnt finish, i didnt top him, and he didnt really top me either. he didnt even finger me for long. but my god... the positions. the placements. the kissing my feet on his hands and knees. sucking on my toes, the strategic placement of my legs and knees and feet. and somehow knowing how to hit the right spots when he was twice my size. like standing his hips were at the top of my rib cage. INSANE. giant, giant beautiful man. the sheer size of his thighs. i cant handle it. i cant even believe it was real life!

i was calling him a slut but look at me gushing over him, when the sex wasnt even that amazing. its like he was edging me. didnt want me to come knowing he wouldnt too? he didnt make me give him head the second time either. i guess it was considerate since the first time he did and went as far as filming him face fucking me with my hands behind my back. and restraining my wrists with his legs will i was riding him?! i actually cannot.. i cannot handle it.

its all just fun and games for the both of us. thats what i liked. it was transactional for both of us. we both care just enough, we both connected just enough, but we were both completely hungry and horny enough to make it easy and playful. he threw me around! like my one dream, and as a tiny little girl its kind of insane it had taken this long to happen. he loved every part of my body. i dont appreciate the comments about my butt but he obviously liked it. im slim thick and tiny. he would be carrying me and fucking me in front of the mirror and i would misjudge the height i was at when hed put me on the ground to change positions. like i had literally climbed a tree of a man. i cant. I CANT!

he was just so perfectly playful, annoying and teasing in the way i like. like stupid on purpose, so i can be mean to him. i love bullying men. but in a playful, flirty way. SO FLIRTY! who knew it was so hard to come by guys like that, people like that. cause i know part of why he was so obsessed with me was because i matched his energy so well. at the end of the day its all about ENERGY! and we matched well. and combined with that, we were both sexy fucking humans. and he had tattoos! he had everything ive been wanting. bare minimum, i know. but those tattoos were so delicious. i will never see tattoos on light skin in the same way. they were borderline not there because his skin was so dark. and i love it. it was like a little extra something something. and the one on his rib was beautiful. they were all beautiful. im so thankful he was so doting and loving on me so i couldnt feel insecure about my own body. i feel like he was unintentionally roasting me too though, trying to be flirty. something about my toes??? im not sure. but he obviously liked them enough to suck on them. so.

anyway. i just cannot stop thinking about this experience. i probably wont stop thinking about it for weeks, months even. as much as i love to read my bridgerton, sometimes i just love the idea of some sexy nasty fucking. he came so much on my back. he gave me HICKEYS! he read my energy and did what i liked. its not even that hard for him. proof hes a fucking hoe. but hes also somewhat committed to me.. or just getting me back in his city to play with me again. i was like his little barbie doll to play with, literally. putting his clothes on me, gifting me his shirt and sunnies, asking me to say i love him? and sayin it himself? and the constant calling. this man... hes a red flag. hes got some kind of commitment issues for certain. but i read him for filth too. somehow he enjoyed me being genuinely pissed off with him. stupid drunk boy. completely different energies when hes sober vs drunk.

anyways. i was pmsing too and he dragged me away from my friends... or did he? did they encourage me to go? no point wondering about it, anyway. i wonder if he wanted her instead tho... i will always wonder. i understand if he did. i would too. tbh, i would want a threesome with her. it could happen...

anyway. he texted me... i want to call him. i cant though, of course. the type of conversation id want to have would need to be private. isnt it odd how a little while ago i was harrassed in my car down the street from my home? now i dont feel safe going back there. this city is so strange.

maybe my sister will move back home. everything will change if that happens. for some reason i get the feeling she will come back and the other will leave. it seems like that is in gods plan. or... me? plus i have my car. interrestingngngnggngn

so... what now? (please read in azealias voice). realistically, even though i do genuinely like him and he genuinely likes me, were from two different cities and wont see eachother again until im back in god knows how long. and its expensive to be flying or driving over there for visits a lot. this is a waste of energy i thnk. im just gonna roll with it. the most likely scenario is that one of us gets bored (probably me) or hurt (probably me, if hes secretly playing around with lots of girls) and things just fizzle out in a messy way that ruins the vibes we had together now. but tbh im okay with that. its the only way i learn my lesson about people. otherwise they keep wiggling their way back on half promises when i forget about their bad behaviour with time.

but honestly, i have a good feeling about him. he seems like an honest person. and whatever it is he's hiding, its nothing severe. its more something i can sense, like an insecurity. hes broke, hes immature, hes a bit of a mess. hes insecure about his appearance? i am too baby. youre good. i love feeling like this with a guy. like im in control but im not. i got the power, and hes obsessed with me and he wants me and hes open and honest with me just like i am. he sees my honestly and thinks - oh, she's safe, she's home, i can be myself with her. not - oh, she's good, i can lie to her and manipulate her easier cause she'll tell me exactly how she feels and what i need to tell her.

the main thing is if I want HIM. cause i do. but he does have weird eyes, and eyes are a big thing for me. wearing sunnies all the time wont cut it. and being broke is fine. but looking a mess in public with me wont do. hes a fashion boy tho. he a trendy ni$$a. but i digress.

UGH! i hope i can find someone that playful, flirty and doting here at home. i probably wont tho. thats okay. ive come to accept my worth being above the capacity of men here. theyre just a bit confused. their cute, confused puppies. the kind that only like their own kind too.. they can have them. i need me a POC. im officially closing for business with the pretty white boys. theyve done enough.

okay ive done enough talking shit. this has been fun!

[valorxdrive]

❝ you did what you had to do to survive. ❞ from Akira @gloryseized

"In the end you're right about that..." So why exactly does he sound so unsatisfied?

A natural ache rummages deep within his chest. It's burned profoundly within as both a bitter reminder and necessary strength. Taking power within his hands that he holds such a little clue about, casting damnation to all rules and limitations, fighting this inherent unfairness known eons of planning, a force that could easily sweep him away like a reed with the ocean, the approach needed a force equally unfair.

Sora's shared story with them today had been about why he's here, the confirmation of every 'alien' like detail about them since the time they met. Most of all, how his existence within the Metaverse plays upon entirely different rules. For the keybearer, there was no genuine need for a concept known as Persona, for his make up didn't align with this realm. ..Yet, in an odd twist of fate, his Shadow was a very true existence that manifests through different means.

Part of him feels genuinely compelled to be open with someone he considers a new friend. From the haphazard circumstances that prompts them to fight side by side, to dealing with unique definitions of alienation, the vigor to take the bitterness of these stubborn days and make them better invites not only energy into his being, but a rebellious desire, the sort that aims to fight against the dark ilk that frolics amidst the sky piercing towers of Tokyo.

In truth, it'd be against the chaotic unknown of humanity as a whole.

"There's no regret in what I've done. To use that power in forbidden ways to save Kairi, all of my friends, I'd do it a thousand times over if the decision was placed before me."

"But that's the truth of why I-- heheh, never quite fit in, and that's on both playing fields in this world too." Sora's eyes fell upon his drink, staring thoughtfully at the reflection as they remained within Leblanc.

"And even if the price is the end of it all somehow? I can't stop that fight of mine now. I figured there may be some clues I could find in that other world."

@gloryseized

#gloryseized #| Bottle Mail #| Meme #Seeing how much KH and Persona can border and mesh in terms of mythos #there's a helluva ton of crossover potential pertaining to them

[meanwhileinstasiville]

And I can add “lantham” plumbing to the list of service vehicles that follow me around. This time next to a campus building, in the dark, next to someone in a suit. All three things converging about where I habitually walk to that side of the street. 

At the time I went nomad or whatever, some really curious things happened in rapid succession. A cousin in the next town over took me to meet some of his “friends” who were “trimmers” we shall say, for lack of a better word. You know, in the marijuana trade. That’s not too curious considering his history in the drug business back in Tennessee. The curious part was that they (the trimmers) are both open carrying guns, and happen to have another visitor “from the bar” across the street from their pad coincidentally named “Aaron”, a variation on the spelling of the name of my former boss’s son. Someone I happened to have worked with and who wants to hear a story (with the immediate threat of death in the smoke filled room). A time after that passed and back at my cousin’s/aunt’s, ANOTHER Aaron came to live with us. Who really wanted to talk about Ayn Rand, and also continued to pressure my cousin (who gets smoky eyed and thinks of murder when he’s drunk, a little like his uncle once did) into sleeping with him when the vino veritas of his homosexuality was made manifest.

(We didn’t talk much on account of their near daily blackout drunk escapades)

A couple Aaron’s, one associated with one store I had worked at, and another from the town grocery of the next town over is some coincidence. And it doesn’t stop there. We started getting a visiting “Lee” on a day to day basis, like the name of my ongoing stalker. My cousin evidently spotted the ruse, and decided to start waking the guy up in the wee hours of the morning because, and I quote, “I’m bored. Entertain me. I need enter-taim-ent” because that guy had to be there. So it could be made to look like “Aaron” hangs out there, and “Lee” visits. These things, they happen.

Personally, I wonder why people even need to make things look like that for argument purposes; all crime is organized and the valley proper is like a set of company towns stacked on top of each other. The guy yesterday who yelled “fag!” every five seconds rounding he corner of city hall and riding in traffic, more or less makes my point. The plaza “island” is where the baddest of the street bad guys hang out, line of sight to city hall and municipal operations as a constant reminder that the city can do what it wants. Until five pm or so when they have to leave the “safety” of the building. He seemed to also want to fight (which makes him sound kind of gay) after spitting at me, as a cartel hopeful fatal aesop about gang violence (because all gangs in town are on one team) and there’s copious camera coverage on the plaza (for tale of the tape instant replay).

This kind of thing is not new. Way back when, my best friend’s dad introduced the two of us to MREs like the soldiers eat, at a point in my life when I was obviously not getting enough to eat. Semi-malnutritioned and a little emaciated, in the sort of way where someone would hope I’d go looking for more MREs on the way to a military career. That didn’t happen. People keep trying to get rid of me and it never quite works out, probably because evil is self limiting, but that’s neither here nor there.

I would like to say that all this is somehow about a heart being in the right place, but it sure doesn’t feel that way. The MRE story is a little like the Family Guy, “We’re being followed by ghosts!” cutaway, where Peter seems perfectly aware of the kkk like he’d been talking to them for a long time before having a black friend. Except with nazis.

A mini cooper or two everywhere isn’t doing anything that the red hondas, blue fords, HVACs including but not limited to “calculated comfort” bearing a rectangle glassed nazi looking guy on the side of the van, assorted now red and white trucks where 70s ford rangers once were, where the red hondas once were, in terms of promoting a religious system, or a race argument, or advancing a set of threatening gestures, or selling the latinas as desirable, or alleviating the problem with being stalked around the library by shelver spy now back in the DVDs (who owes my boss’s other son for her job enough so that “You will die!” was the response to the idea that something could happen *to him* on account of her following me around the library *years ago*)

[wingedblooms]

Hope shining in the Void

Part 2: The Light of Three Sisters

In Part 1, I explored various types of light using the premise from Rhys that, like the dark, it is neither wholly good nor evil. It comes in different forms and can be molded by the lightwielder to match their intent. In HOSAB, we learn even more about this concept of individualized or nuanced light:

“Bryce said, more to herself than to the demon prince, “I hadn’t realized they’d have individualized starlight. I always thought mine was only … brighter than yours.” She frowned at Ruhn. “I guess it makes sense that there could be nuances to the light amongst the Fae that got interbred. Theia’s elder daughter, Helena, had the gift—and married Prince Pelias. Your ancestor.”

Although they have a surname associated with the underworld (Archeron, much like River Acheron) and live in the Night Court, the Archeron sisters, like Theia and her offspring, have their own unique light. This light may have even been orchestrated by fate so they could act as foils to another trio of siblings (Koschei, the Weaver, and the Bone Carver) and counterparts for the three found brothers (Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel). Although I wish I had gotten around to finishing this soon after I posted Part 1 last summer, I feel this conversation is even more pertinent now that HOSAB has been released. There are HOSAB spoilers throughout, so please proceed at your own risk.

In ACOMAF, we are introduced to the seemingly prophetic words of the Book of Breathings (BoB), which now resides in the world of CC. The chaotic half of the book speaks in threes and starts with this line:

Life and death and rebirth

The words of the BoB may be interpreted a few different ways. Each line includes a set of three, and each part of that three might represent a sister, such as life = Feyre, death = Nesta, and rebirth = Elain. Each phrase may (also) describe a particular sister. For example, Rot and bloom and bone is often connected to Elain since she is consistently associated with flowers. And last, but not least, it might refer to a life cycle that applies to all three sisters in general, describing their life as humans, death of that life, and rebirth as powerful fae. A key part of that journey includes healing; they find Hope shining in the Void. All three are valid and useful. For this post, I plan to focus mostly on the first interpretation as those three separate words—life and death and rebirth—may describe the light unique to each sister. This aligns nicely with the concept of unique or nuanced light we learn about in CC, which is connected to those who came to Midgard from Prythian.

While reading HOSAB, @offtorivendell reminded me that Theia (the Starborn Queen from Prythian) is named for the Greek goddess of sight and light. She had three children associated with different kinds of light: Helios (Sun), Selene (Moon), and Eos (Dawn). We only know of two children that Theia bore, one of them being unnamed and the other being Helena (which is a name that is sometimes connected to Selene, the moon). Bryce somehow bears Theia’s unique light, according to Aidas. Is this light connected to Helena’s offspring, who seemed to have stayed in CC, or the other, unnamed daughter? Is it possible that both, over the course of thousands of years, manifested different kinds of light? And if the unnamed daughter returned to Prythian to protect the people on the other side of the Rift, could she be that clever warrior from the ancient fae line that evolved into a human line?

“Clever, that Fae warrior. Her bloodline is long gone now—though a trace still runs through some human line.”

He smiled, perhaps a bit sadly. “No one remembers her name. But I do. She would have been my salvation, had I not made my choice long before she walked this earth.”

As @silverlinedeyes has suggested, could that human line run through the veins of the Archeron sisters? If so, that might also explain the manifestation of their different kinds of light—light that aligns with the children of the mythological Theia (Sun, Moon, and Dawn).

Life (Sun) - Feyre

Although Feyre is the youngest, she is the sister we come to know first. The first sister. Although she possesses power from all seven remaining courts, the most common light she exhibits is from the Day Court:

Faintly, as if some inner light shone beneath my skin, leaking out into the world. Warm and white light, like the sun—like a star.

Shining—I was shining bright and pure as a star. “Day Court?” I asked.

But there, deep within Day’s light … I gleaned it. A purifying, clear power. Cursebreaker—spellbreaker. The light wiped through every physical trapping, showing me the snarls of spells and glamours, showing me the way through … I burned brighter, looking, looking— Buried inside the bone-walls of the castle, the wards were woven strong. I sent that blinding light flaring once more—a distraction and sleight of hand as I severed the wards at their ancient arteries.

At me, resplendent and pure in white, beginning to glow with the light of day as the sun’s path flowed directly over me instead.

I released the damper on the power that I had unleashed in Hybern, my body turning incandescent as light shone through. Pure as day, pure as starlight. “Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered. [...] I let my glow spread, until it, too, rippled from Lucien’s bowed form. A knight before his queen.

So I bared my teeth and sent a fist of white light punching into that fiery shield—the white light of Day. Spell-breaker. Ward-cleaver.

Death (Moon) - Nesta

Nesta is the oldest of the three and the second sister whose story has been told. She is the second sister. The light she is associated with most is the cold light of the moon, the silver light of death:

But inch by inch, the scabbard slid from the blade. And inch by inch, fresh steel glowed—truly glowed, like moonlight lay within the metal. […] Iridescent sparks danced along the blade. Pure, crackling magic. The light danced and spurted as if an invisible hammer still struck it.

She’d seen a Queen of the Night. As merciless and cold and beautiful as the god Lanthys had wanted to make her. Death’s Consort. Death herself.

In the moonlight, before the silvered lake, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Nesta finished the eighth maneuver, and returned the sword to center. The light in her eyes shone brighter than the moon overhead.

Silver thread embroidered the skintight velvet bodice, the straps so narrow they might as well have been nothing against her moon-white skin.

Upon Nesta, this once-human female who had conquered death, who now glowed as if she had devoured the moon, too.

Rebirth (Dawn) - Elain

And Elain, the middle child whose story I believe will be told next, is the third sister. She is most associated with spring and rebirth, as well as the beauty of dawn:

Beautiful—she’d always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn. […] Elain’s golden-brown hair was half up, her pale skin creamy and flushed with color, and her eyes, like molten chocolate, were wide as they took me in.

Elain at last slid into the chair near Mor’s, her dawn-pink dress—finer than the ones she usually wore—crinkling beneath her.

She set down the tray and wiped her flour-coated hands on the apron she wore over her dusty-pink gown. Even in the middle of winter, she was a bloom of color and sunshine. […] I surveyed the food she was assembling and asked between bites, “How long have you been working on this?” A one-shouldered shrug. “Since dawn.” She added, “Nuala and Cerridwen were up hours earlier.”

Elain had walked in halfway through. She’d been toiling in the estate gardens since dawn, and had been solemn as Rhys filled her in. Feyre had been unable to say a word. But Elain’s gaze remained steady as she listened to Rhys.

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. […] Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health.

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

Their unique light might provide a necessary counterbalance to the dark. They are Hope (iridescent light) shining in the Void (darkness that gobbles up all other light and color) that a weaver of Fate, like Urd, created. As such, they act as a natural foil to the dark death-god siblings who, as @offtorivendell and I suspect, may be born of the Void like the Under-King and princes of Hel in CC. If the Under-King spoke true, beings return to the Void after death, and for the death-god siblings, that might actually be home. This connection to Void may be why the Bone Carver was also so pointed in his questions when Feyre described where she went after death:

“But was there anyone there—were you seeing anything beyond?”

“There was no other world,” the Bone Carver pushed. “If there was or is, I did not see it.”

“No light, no portal?” Where is it that you want to go? The question almost leaped off my tongue. “It was only peace and darkness.”

When the Cauldron took his life, it’s no wonder he was relieved: he was finally returning home. I also wondered in the shifting forms of fate post if the Cauldron was linked to Void (the darkness of beginnings and endings). It seems to be the dark womb from which everything is born, and those who have died can return through it, like a magical portal:

“Long ago, before the High Fae, before man, there was a Cauldron … They say all the magic was contained inside it, that the world was born in it. But it fell into the wrong hands. And great and horrible things were done with it. Things were forged with it. Such wicked things that the Cauldron was eventually stolen back at great cost. It could not be destroyed, for it had Made all things, and if it were broken, then life would cease to be. So it was hidden. And forgotten. Only with that Cauldron could something that is dead be reforged like that.”

But in dying for a worthy cause, did the Carver weaken his other powerful siblings? He and his siblings may be related to the Archesian amulet, a symbol of three overlapping circles in the CC series that provides protection. It’s the symbol the Carver draws for Feyre to explain him and his siblings:

The Carver traced three overlapping, interlocked circles in the dirt. “You have met my sister—my twin. The Weaver, as you now call her. I knew her as Stryga. She, and our older brother, Koschei. How they delighted in this world when we fell into it. How those ancient Fae feared and worshipped them. Had I been braver, I might have bided my time—waited for their power to fade, for that long-ago Fae warrior to trick Stryga into diminishing her power and becoming confined to the Middle. Koschei, too—confined and bound by his little lake on the continent. All before Prythian, before the land was carved up and any High Lord was crowned.”

Bryce wore this symbol in HOEAB and it protected her from detection:

Bryce zipped a tiny golden pendant—a knot of three entwined circles—along the delicate chain around her neck.

Danika went on patrol armed with claws, a sword, and guns, but Bryce’s daily armor consisted solely of this: an Archesian amulet barely the size of her thumbnail, gifted by Jesiba on the first day of work. A hazmat suit in a necklace, Danika had marveled when Bryce had shown off the amulet’s considerable protections against the influence of various magical objects. Archesian amulets didn’t come cheap, but Bryce didn’t bother to delude herself into thinking her boss’s gift was given out of anything but self-interest. It would have been an insurance nightmare if Bryce didn’t have one. Danika nodded to the necklace. “Don’t take that off. Especially if you’re looking into shit like the Horn.” Even though the Horn’s mighty powers had long been dead—if it had been stolen by someone powerful, she’d need every magical defense against them.

But it was to just unclasp the golden amulet from around her neck. “Here. To sweeten the deal. An Archesian amulet. It’s fifteen thousand years old, and fetches around three million gold marks on the market.”

“Says the female with the Archesian amulet around her neck. The amulet of the priestesses who once served and guarded Parthos. I think you know what’s here—that you spend your days in the midst of all that remains of the library after most of it burned at Vanir hands fifteen thousand years ago.”

“Danika knew the Archesian amulet would hide you from any detection, magical or demonic. With that amulet, you were invisible to the kristallos, bred to hunt the Horn.”

So, how are the death-god siblings connected to this amulet? Was it developed by the clever warrior who may have been related to Theia and the Archeron sisters, and was subsequently forgotten? (Hence, the similarity between the names Archesian and Archeron, as @offtorivendell has pointed out to me more than once.) Was it used as protection from or as a way to confine the siblings’ magic? How is that history connected to the priestesses, then and now? Have they intentionally hidden the secrets of this history, biding their time for a sign from Urd? Bryce’s landing in Prythian at the end of HOSAB could be that sign.

Is it also possible that the three interlocking circles are the death-gods themselves, trapped in Prythian as protection against an even greater foe, such as the Asteri? While I do think that Koschei has been set up enough to serve as the main villain in the ACOTAR series, the events of HOSAB have made me wonder how the crossover might impact the future plot. Both the Carver and Weaver—though neither are considered heroes—enter bargains with the Night Court and ultimately sacrifice their lives to help Prythian. When the Carver died, the Weaver felt his loss deeply, like a Brunnian link in Borromean Rings (three interlocking circles). These rings symbolize strength in unity, and when one circle is broken, the other two fall apart. Is it possible, then, that when the Carver and Weaver were killed, Koschei felt their loss just as deeply and was weakened? Is this the reason he appears as a shadow rather than in his true form? Will he serve solely as a villain or could he enter into a bargain like his siblings and help Prythian, and their long-lost relatives who are in Midgard, fight an even greater foe (the Asteri)? Or, equally concerning, was the protection that this symbol may have offered Prythian severed, lifting a protective veil over the world and granting access that was previously locked fifteen thousand years ago? Hence, the appearance of not only Aelin, but Bryce as well, after their deaths.

This ancient, interlocking symbol isn’t exclusive to circles either—there is another, referred to as the valknut, that has three interlocking triangles. The meaning of this Norse symbol isn’t as clear, but it may be associated with Odin, the afterlife, and his ability to bind and unbind. Derived from two words for slain warrior and knot, it may mean knot of the slain warrior. In Norse mythology, the Valkyries served Odin and were sent into battle by him to determine where warriors might go after death. He also had a spear, Gungnir, that would strike true regardless of the skill of the bearer. (Sounds a bit like Truth-Teller, doesn’t it?) This interconnected symbol, as with other knots, sometimes represents the unity between earth, heaven, and hell. Thus, its nine points may symbolize the nine worlds in Norse mythology. The three interlocking triangles most often form mountains, though they can also form a star. Is it possible that this interlocking symbol brings together both the three stars (that we see in the Night Court symbol) and the three mountains of Prythian, an ultimate symbol of the link between different worlds and beings? Is the eight-pointed star in the Prison, much like a compass rose, under the other two mountains as well? And is that where the portals to other worlds exist?

The symbolic union of earth, heaven, and hell may also be connected to the three sisters and three brothers, who create a balance of light and dark as @silverlinedeyes suggests here. And if she and @offtorivendell are correct about the Illyrians being related to the Princes of Hel, is it possible that their union is one of earth (mountain), heaven (star), and hell (demon)? Their powerful union, guided by Theia’s starlight through Bryce, may be what is needed to open the portals, release the armies of Hel, and create an epic inter-world battle to end the tyranny of the Asteri once and for all.

Together, they are a beautiful, monstrous blend of hope and void, life and death, and light and dark.

#the archeron sisters #feyre x nesta x elain #feyre #nesta #elain #acotar theories #cc theories #koschei #bone carver #weaver #rhysand #cassian #azriel #bryce quinlan #theia #three brothers three sisters #three stars #three mountains #princes of Hel #hosab spoilers

[aquataurian]

Heyllo guys! Back with the difference between sun and moon in the same sign (part-3) astro observations.

Last part

#4 ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

• Sagittarius. Typically, sag gives me carefree energy because they really are one. And this goes for both sun and moon. Sag moons are upfront. They are rarely shy except they have a water sun. They are more about carefree thinking and even more impulsive. They are so impatient sometimes. But sag suns are kinda serious at times. They are more passionate towards what they do or believe. More about freedom and openness. You can find sag suns more intimidating than sag moons. Sometimes, sag suns are shy. They take some time to get comfortable with you. Sag moons are somewhat naturally extrovert. They are indirect at times. But sag suns are always direct no matter what.

• Capricorn. No wonder why I absolutely love capricorns. Cap suns are genuinely good people and there's a reason for that. They value friendships and they make really great friends. I've alot of cap sun friends and they are just their true selves which makes them so humble and genuine. But be careful because it's just their sun energy. I've met capricorns with contrasting moon signs and that does make them different in some ways. Cap moons on the other side are true for who they are and who they want to be. Cap energy is somehow less manifested in moon placement but what makes them unique is that they're very calculated. They are earthy in their hobbies and stuff they like to do. Even though they have an air or fire sun, this placement makes them grounded and wise. Cap sun are extroverts and cap moon is an introvert. To all the cap suns I've met, y'all are reallyyyy funny and enjoy being with your friends. But you also need your alone time to process things. Cap moons are also like that but they are passive. They are private in such things and they get mentally drained alot at times. Cap moons are sometimes similar to aquarius suns. They are realistic.

• Aquarius. There is a big big difference between aqua sun and aqua moon. Now this me with an aqua sun and taurus moon writing about what an aqua sun is like and the thing is that mostly, all aqua suns are different in their own ways. I know some aqua sun people and they are soo different than who i am. Why? Because after all, moon plays an important role especially for aqua sun people. But the thing that goes for all aqua suns is that they all are detached in their ways, are honest, sometimes really secretive and that non-conformist attitude. Aqua moons on the other side are all similar. All aqua moons give me the same vibe. They are truly detached but they feel alot. They just avoid it because they think it's their weakness to feel things. And ofc, no one can change their mind. Aqua moons are revengers. They are manipulative at times and knows how to take advantage of you. They can even shed fake tears and act all emotional simply to hurt you atlast because they wanna take revenge. They hold grudges. I've seen this dark side in 2 or 3 aqua moons. They are also very prideful of themselves and somewhat egoistic similar to leo moons. Aqua suns are not at all like that. They have zero intentions to take revenge or hurt anyone because when it comes to holding a grudge, moon placement comes in play. That's why aqua suns are highly differentiated as they have unique personalities. Both aqua sun and moon are stubborn tho. Atmost when it comes to their ideas and ways of doing things. Aqua sun is like a walking aquarius who you may not easily notice coz of their variety of unique personalities but aqua moon is like possessed by an aquarius who you may notice coz of their superior aura and passive stubbornness.

• Pisces. That dreamy energy ofc. Feels like everything is drowned. All the feelings and dreams. Pisces suns are always tired and they have their secret life of dreams in which they live most of the time. They are not practical. But veryyy Idealistic. Reality seems to fade here. Pisces moons are all about feelings. They feel alot and everything and are great caretakers. But the thing is that pisces sun can detach themselves easily and pisces moon cannot. They are naturally feeling everything at deepest point. Pisces sun is also differentiated as to their moon placement because if they have an aqua moon, they are easy to detach even though they can see everything but won't feel a bit. Pisces moons are intimidating than pisces suns. Both pisces sun and moon placements have large beautiful eyes. Their gaze gives you dreamy vibes.

That's it for the day! Stay tuned for more such observations. Thank you for your support!

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