#but he still chose to do the right thing in spite of it

[temis-de-leon]

Pick me girls and OM! Brothers - Part 2

Characters: Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)

Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)

Part 3 - Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Masterlist

CW: pick me girl behavior, one of these girls is actually really stupid, suggestive, mentions of sex between the brothers and mc, mentions of violence, a bit of magic, mentions of cheating (not actual cheating), nightmares, implied death, jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, still ooc but i had even more fun

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Satan

Your boyfriend looked more offended than you ever had the chance to feel.

The cashier at the bookstore barely had the time to say anything about her supposed romance with the demon before he appeared in his signature pose: a hand in his hip and the other one over his chest.

He had been a regular for years and you didn't know if the girl had been delusional enough to believe she had something with him or if she was just jealous and wanted to make you feel bad.

You weren't sure which one was sadder.

"Am I hearing this correctly?" he said with spite, distracting you from your own thoughts "Are you so daft you were considering me reciprocating your feelings?"

The girl lowered her gaze, clearly embarrassed, and for a moment you felt guilty. Maybe she really thought she had something mutual going on with Satan; a crush that went too far in her own imagination.

She proved you wrong, however, when not only did she give you a side eye, but also said the most stupidest thing one could ever muster.

"Well, obviously you are so daft you chose them over me"

You couldn't waste time on feeling hurt; not when Satan was showing his fangs, letting his tail scratch the floor as it lashed behind him. As hot as he looked like this, it was not the moment nor the place to show his demon form in a fit of rage.

The stupid cashier seemed proud of getting a reaction out of him, finally catching his attention. Maybe she was a demon of wrath too? Maybe that's how she flirted with other demons?

The poor thing would be lucky if she ever lived to see another day.

Let her discover that fact on her own.

"She's not worth it, Satan" you urged, pushing him to the door "Let's go to that cat cafe you mentioned earlier. You said they had new kittens, right?"

That seemed to do the trick.

He looked at you with love, still mixed with anger and bewilderment, but not enough for you not to hold his hand and lean against him.

"I'm sorry, my dear" he murmured, then he spoke louder "Do not believe a word she said"

"I would never"

"Good"

He nodded to himself, like the idea of you believing the cashier was too stupid to even consider it, but neither of you could ignore how his hand stiffened in yours for a second.

"Let's go see some kittens" you said in a singing voice, leading him in the street towards your destination.

You failed to see the adoration in his eyes.

Asmo

This succubus dated Asmo long before you were even an idea in your parents' minds and she wanted you to keep that in mind.

She wanted you to know that everything you knew, she knew better (a blatant lie) and that Asmo preferred experience over novelty (ew).

"I remember the times we went to the sauna and... Oh, sorry, does he take you to the sauna?"

"He invited me a couple of times, yes" but I had to say no or else I would've boiled alive.

"And does he...?"

Does he. Does he. Does he.

He does. HE DOES. HE DEFINITELY DOES.

In which moment did you think going to The Fall was a better plan than doing each other's skincare routine while making fun of 50 shades of Grey?

The both of you could be criticizing that poor excuse of BDSM right now (before recreating the correct version), but, instead, Asmo was ordering the girliest cocktail ever made while this Camila Cabello wannabe harassed you.

"...that was a little joke between us"

Lord Diavolo she just kept going.

"I'm so happy you remember so well your past relationship with him" you intervened with a strain in your voice, "but maybe it's time for you to stop and leave"

The succubus smirked with a smugness that made your innards burn from the inside out.

"Don't get jealous! I'm sure he loves you too"

Oh my Lord.

The lion, the witch and the audacity of this bitch.

"Hon', look at this!"

There he came, your savior, dressed in a skimpy dress with hands full of shimmery drinks and a glint in his very beautiful loving eyes.

"They didn't have human beverages, but I swear the taste is impeccable, you'll love it! Just let me take a picture for Devilgram first"

Camila Cabello, as you had finally decided to call her, cleared her throat in search of the demon's attention. Asmodeus looked in her direction, obviously trying to remember who she was.

"Asmo, baby!" she was nothing but a smile full teeth and a mission. Her gaze a little desperate "Remember me?"

Her determination died, however, when Asmo's expression turned shocked after studying her. He grasped his chest in sorrow as he asked the funniest question you could hear at the moment.

"What are you wearing?"

Camila Cabello was finally at a loss of words and you briefly wondered if this had ever happened to her.

"If you're gonna meddle in my relationship with MC at least take effort in looking decent"

His expression was sweet, saccharine, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice.

He was so beautiful. And he was all yours.

Beel

She was one of the boys, apparently. Beel had definitely never mentioned her, but the girl only laughed when you told her that.

"Wow, controlling much? Does he have to tell you about every friend?"

Well, no, Beel didn't have to inform you about everyone he's ever met, but your boyfriend was sweet enough to want you in every aspect of his life, thus introducing you to his friends, his teammates and even his gym bros.

Definitely not to this girl.

You looked at her in disbelief, licking your teeth with a calculating glance. How much would Beel care if you hit this airhead with a dumbbell?

"We hang out together almost every day" she boasted, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger "It's not even weird for me to be in the boys locker room"

Were you strong enough to throw a dumbbell?

Surely she'd rather be with them instead of you if she was 'one of the boys', no? Why would she be in the bleachers with you, waiting for the team to finish their training, when she could be in any other part of the field doing exercise or playing for another sport?

"I'm not making you insecure, am I?" asked the girl in poorly faked innocence "If he loves you so much you should have nothing to worry about"

"Oh, I trust him" you assured her, but you didn't sound as confident as you wanted to. Although Beel never gave you any reasons to doubt him, it was difficult to defend your relationship when this girl was so convinced everyone was in love with her.

"That's so cool"

You decided to ignore her and her mocking tone, hoping to end the conversation right there, but she just kept talking. It was obvious she wanted to get under your skin.

For what? you wondered. Did she expect Beel to leave you if she batted her lashes fast enough? Did she know Beel at all??

"Oh, Beely!"

You cringed with a scowl visible to everyone around you. Some of Beel's teammates laughed at your missfortune, while the others, the ones you liked best, turned around in horror and left without a second glance.

Wether he was oblivious or just didn't care, Beel wasted no time in running towards you with a smile on his face.

"Did you see me?" he asked, looking up to you with a boyish grin and brightened eyes.

"I'm always looking at you"

Beel blushed, his smile still obvious in his face, but he couldn't get another word in before the girl talked again.

"I was looking at you too"

You rolled your eyes and Beel immediately stared at you with a curious glance. He hummed in response, ignoring her once again as he reached out for your hand to caress your knuckles.

"There's a new limited edition menu in a restaurant near RAD"

No questions added nor needed. You smiled at him and nodded, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss it. A promise for later.

"Noo, we used to go there so much..."

"Can you stop?" Beel interrupted her with a deadpan expression "You're making MC uncomfortable"

The girl looked at him in surprise, mouth wide open, clearly not expecting to be snapped at.

She didn't dare to look at you after that.

Belphie

It wasn't the first time you dreamt about this girl and it wasn't the first time you dreamt about her stealing your sloth of a boyfriend.

She wasn't some mystery girl, but rather Belphie's old seatmate, the one he had before you were kidnapped admitted in RAD. A quiet doe-eyed succubus that looked at him like he was the best thing that ever happened to both human and demon mankind.

She'd tried to sit next to him a couple of times with no avail, always getting rejected in your favor. Then, Belphie and you started dating and she stopped trying. You'd innocently thought she'd surrendered.

But not only did she search for him the very few times you guys weren't next to each other, she also ignored you completely when you were there.

Ignoring her back was easier said than done.

And this time, the oniric version of her wasn't just stealing your boyfriend. This time, he was willingly going to her, making your heart hurt so much it made you wake up with what felt like broken ribs.

It took you a couple of minutes to pull yourself together and not push Belphie away when he brought you back to his chest. The image of him kissing her while looking at you was engraved in your mind.

So, although sweating and hurting both from your heart and your confidence, you forced yourself to sleep.

You didn't notice just how awake Belphie was.

Back when you were still friends, you had allowed him to introduce himself into your slumber each time you had a nightmare. Images of you dying under the jaws and claws of faceless demons disappeared faster when the real Belphie was there. Ironic, isn't it?

He tried to stop every single one of them, but sometimes he was so deep in his own dreams it was proved to be impossible.

You thought this was one of those occasions, but, alas, you were wrong.

Days passed without any new event and Belphie mentioned nothing about your initial irrational coldness towards him, which made you feel a tiny bit better. Eventually you'd get so embarrassed about the situation that you had no other option but to dote on him like the brat he was, leading to a whole weekend sprawled over his bed in the attic.

The girl was still there, although not as persistent with Belphie, and she avoided you like the plague, with fright in her eyes.

So he did something about her, didn't he? But how did he know? And what did he do? You wanted to ask, curious as ever, but as time went by and the eyebags under her eyes started to occupy her entire face, you decided against it.

Barely a month later she disappeared without leaving trace. And since Belphie didn't even acknowledge her at all, why would you?

Tagging a little more: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #om! swd #om! shall we date #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmo x mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me beel x reader #obey me beel x mc #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me belphie x reader #obey me belphie x mc #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me x gender neutral reader

[revehae]

do you like it, dr. lee?

pairing ↠ haechan, jaemin, jeno × (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, mentions of infidelity, age gap (18+)

summary ↠ haechan, jaemin, and jeno are some of the brightest, most accomplished students in your class that never fail to make high marks on the exams. but when they approach you one day in your office, your perspective of them changes dramatically.

wc ↠ 5.4k

a/n ↠ part 2/5 of the college-capades series! connected to sexcapade.

don’t like it, don’t read.

it all happened so fast.

one minute, you were chatting with three of your most wonderful students in your office, and the very next, they had you sprawled out on top of your desk.

your heart was speeding. though you attempted to wrestle your way out of their less than gentle embraces, you couldn’t even take one of them, let alone all three. while somebody was keeping your hands still, another was holding you by the legs.

jeno, who had his palm flat over your mouth, only watching your moist, fearfully wide eyes, leaned into your ear and whispered, “scream and we’ll saw your tongue off.”

when he dropped his palm, you sucked in a breath, face tensing with tears as you willed yourself to be compliant. your head was spinning, dizzy with shock. what was happening to you was unfathomable. these boys were some of your favorite students, the ones who never failed to perform magnificently on the exams, and were sparkling in class.

you felt betrayed, in a way. even your worst-performing student wouldn’t stoop this low, and in the midst of your fright, you wondered what you had done to deserve the atrocity that was today. if there was anybody that you could count on to make you feel as if your dedication to this job wasn’t completely useless, it was these boys.

haechan was standing just shy of you, eyes fixed to that knee-length skirt he loved watching you wear. jeno chuckled when he noticed where his friend’s gaze had fallen, because he found himself glancing there too, but usually when you were facing away from your students.

he always thought about getting you naked, seeing your ass without anything to hinder his view. more often than not, jeno fisted himself to the thought of stuffing your ass full of his thick cock, wondering if anybody had ever fucked you there.

snapping out of his imagination, haechan approached you, shoving your long skirt closer to your hips. instinctively, the first thing you did was try to protect yourself, but jaemin grabbed you and ceased all control. you slumped, whimpering defeatedly, “boys, please stop. you know that i have a husband.”

haechan snickered, amused that that was the card you chose to play. “didn’t really look like you cared about your husband when you were fucking my dad,” he retorted.

rather than beat even quicker, it felt as if your heart stilled. “what?”

jeno laughed boisterously. “would you look at that. she thinks you don’t know.”

“that’s right, baby,” haechan replied menacingly, nothing affectionate about his tone, in spite of the pet name. “you run your mouth and we’ll make sure the whole school knows that you can’t stop spreading your legs for my father.”

donning the sweetest tone, jaemin crooned in your ear, “and you wouldn’t want that, right, sweetheart? you wouldn’t want mr. lee to know that his wife isn’t satisfied with just his cock, is she now?”

it felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath your feet. haechan was johnny’s son, the offspring of the man you had been hooking up with behind your husband’s back, and now he and his friends were threatening to expose your affair if you refused to let them have their way with you.

your lips were trembling. this is all your fault, you chided to yourself. if you could’ve just been a faithful wife, a committed woman, none of this would be happening. they would have nothing against you, nothing that would stop you from reporting to the closest figure of authority. but you had too much at stake.

though you were no stranger to jeno’s short patience, you had never seen it manifest quite like this before, gripping your hair so roughly you whimpered in a blend of pain and shock. he growled, “he asked you a question. i shouldn’t have to tell you that that called for an answer.”

“no,” you replied shakily.

jeno’s grip only tightened and he pressed, “no, what?”

“no, i don’t want him to know…,” you trailed, because it was humiliating to repeat back aloud, but jeno was still gazing at you expectantly. “that i’m not satisfied with just his cock.”

“see, that wasn’t so hard. don’t be a little bitch and make things more complicated than they have to be,” jeno said, releasing his hold on your hair. you would’ve fallen back had not jaemin been there to catch you, only to then grab the little buttons on your blouse. “we’re doing you a favor, really. it’s a three for one deal. a little whore like you should be excited.”

but you didn’t want them, you didn’t even want your husband. you wanted johnny. it made you wonder how they knew of the affair, because haechan seemed oblivious only a couple of weeks ago. he referred to you as some fucking nurse johnny had flirted with, not his molecular biology professor.

for fuck’s sake, you were a solid decade older than them. granted, johnny was at least a decade older than you, though there was a discernible difference between the age gap between the two of you and the gap between you and your undergraduate students. 

your button-up blouse finally came undone and jaemin didn’t waste a breath before he snatched off your bra, eager to suck your breasts into his mouth. you gasped out when he did, his tongue darting around your nipples. in the same way, haechan yanked your panties off, cupping between your legs without a second thought.

never in your life had you felt more defenseless, powerless. stripped of all autonomy and forced to let other people have their wicked ways with you. you felt nothing short of violated and it made you sick to your stomach, gut tossing and churning with reproach.

through your stinging eyes, blurry with hot tears, you watched haechan sink to his knees in front of your desk. you weren’t particularly enthusiastic about how exposed you were, your breasts out and your skirt bunched just above your thighs. it felt like the closest thing to walking around the plaza half-naked.

obviously, you felt more watched than you would’ve had it just been one of them, but you were at the mercy of three guys that were paying a godawful amount of attention to your bare figure. jaemin was fixed to your perky chest and jeno was watching haechan situate himself between your legs, holding them open for his friend in case you wanted to be defiant.

“haechan, i don’t want this,” you whined, wiping your face with the back of your hand. 

“that’s too bad, baby.” haechan wasn’t even looking at you, gaze locked on your pussy, like that was what you were reduced to. “don’t worry, it’ll feel good.”

you sucked in another gasp when his mouth angled towards your pussy without affording you a notice in advance, your body’s natural instinct being to shut your legs, but jeno was still holding them in place and he was infinitely stronger than you. with the vigorous training that it took to be a member of the campus’ athletic teams, it came to you as no shock, but you were heavily disappointed.

haechan’s tongue singled out your clit while he lapped at you, ravenous. the second he saw you on the first day of class, he knew that he had to have you. so when he found out that you were sleeping with his father, cheating on your husband with haechan’s dad of all people, he became furious. 

neither you or johnny were as good at keeping secrets as you thought yourselves to be. on more than one occasion, haechan saw you leaving their house. every now and then, he would see your name on his father’s phone. and it wasn’t fair. if anybody could please you, if anybody could bring you to heaven and back, it was the boy with his head buried between your legs.

as if matters couldn’t get any worse, haechan actually seemed to know what he was doing. though you would never admit it to his face, the way he was sucking at your bundle of nerves had you throbbing, pulsing involuntarily around nothing. you whimpered and whined, but chewed on your bottom lip to stifle the noise.

jaemin chuckled so quietly it was barely audible, but said nothing as of right now, cupping your tits in his palms and squeezing. his patience was much less limited than jeno’s, who was currently shifting out of his boxers, freeing his raging hard cock. you saw him in the corner of your misty eyes, noticing how rigid and thick his cock was, but said nothing.

what you didn’t expect, though probably should have seen coming, was for him to start jacking himself to the sight of you being mishandled. haechan wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stop thinking about from the moment you locked eyes. matter of fact, that mutual pining was the common denominator of this little team.

all three of them were sick in the head, out of their minds obsessed with you. you would have expected some lethal kind of rivalry to develop out of that, but instead, they were much more menacing about it. they were helping each other get what they wanted.

you were a little overwhelmed from all the attention and jeno wasn’t even touching you, but just knowing that he was stroking his cock for you was more than a little unnerving. jaemin’s hands were so strangely gentle, setting a pattern as he groped you, all the while haechan was eating you out vigorously.

“pretty, pretty. so pretty when you cry,” jaemin sang in a way that could’ve been kind, if you ignored the nature of what was happening to you. then, like he knew your secret and was implying that he wouldn’t tell, he whispered for only your ears, “pretty when you lie, too.”

it wasn’t fair. you didn’t want to like this, just like how you didn’t want to be aroused. but when haechan pushed a pair of fingers inside of your pussy you gushed and tightened around his digits. you were so unstill, it drove him mad, prompting him to go harder.

your brain was empty but racing all the while, thinking, this is so fucking wrong. you were fucking his father, for crying out loud, and even that was wrong. you didn’t care then, so according to their logic, it shouldn’t have made a difference now.

haechan and jeno’s grunts blended into one giant cacophony of sound, haechan moaning with a mouthful of pussy because he couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted and your pussy was spasming around his digits, whereas jeno was grunting because he thought you were most right now when you were deprived of all control.

blood was pumping quicker than ever through your veins, your heart screaming for survival. you weren’t even remotely in control of your own body anymore, seized not only by your three reckless students, but the pleasure burning through you like wildfire.

your office, that was typically admirably ventilated, seemed to hot to breathe in. but your breaths became quicker and shorter, as if there was no space in your lungs, and you started to feel the sweat cooling down your back, reminding you of how naked you were.

haechan was so hard, stiffening in his pants the longer he watched you start to unravel, and he could’ve probably gotten off just from making you cum. you were grinding your hips against his mouth, and his long, slender fingers that were surely getting you there. you might not have wanted to confess the truth, but your body couldn’t lie.

“she’s so close,” jeno commented with a chuckle, addressing you as if you weren’t even there. “fuck, i am too.”

a hole of negative emotions opened then and there and swallowed you whole, namely guilt and humiliation. you didn’t want haechan to make you cum, you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure, but that ship had already sailed. 

nonetheless, you parted your lips and begged in between shaky moans, “haechan, stop. please, i’m begging you!”

“he’s not going to stop, sweetheart,” jaemin crooned, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “don’t you see? he can’t get enough of your pretty pussy. you should feel so good about yourself.”

few things in life had ever made you feel this conflicted. on the one hand, this was degrading on way too many levels and you felt forcibly stripped of all of your dignity. but on the other, deep down inside, the sight of haechan with his head between your thighs as he licked and sucked at your cunt was inexplicably arousing.

and that did it for you. you tried to fight it, you really did, but your orgasm completely blindsided you, taking you by the reins and going to town. your lips parted in a cry of haechan’s name, your thighs trembling and heat striking through you like lightning as you gripped onto jaemin for dear life.

haechan continued to go down on you after you orgasmed, just until you finished more or less riding his face, going limp against your desk with only jaemin to keep you upright. you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. all the blood was rushing to your head and your heart was thumping in your ears.

haechan finally pulled back, licking your arousal off of his lips and the corners of his mouth in a way that made your core throb emptily, then asked, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

your ears burned and you said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. your answer was in the way your chest heaved like unstill waters, your fingers still holding onto jaemin’s shirt. like you thought you would collapse if you had nothing to anchor yourself.

jaemin took one glance at you and scoffed, “i think she loved it, man.”

there was something so smug in haechan’s stare, like he just knew that he had you.

when haechan moved, jeno came between your spread legs, still holding his cock while he stroked himself to climax in front of you. like it would never be satisfied, your pussy continued to throb at the sounds you were indirectly plucking out of him, culminating in one deep, guttural growl when he came, shooting his load on your cunt.

though you were (thank god) on birth control, him orgasming there still made you feel iffy. you could feel it trickling down into your hole and hated how eager it seemed to be filled. for half a second, you were convinced that was the worst that could happen.

imagine your shock when jaemin abandoned your boobs, soft and supple as they were, and shifted between your thighs next. you didn’t know what to expect when you noticed him move, they enjoyed keeping you guessing, but it definitely wasn’t for jaemin to lick at your release-stained pussy.

you gasped, “jaemin!”

the sound of him sucking and licking at your clit was lewd, and there were long, damp lines being made with his flattened tongue. while you were appalled, the other watched in amusement how jaemin unabashedly more or less ate jeno’s cum from your hole in a disturbing licking pattern. because where it was a nightmare for you, it was just one giant game to them.

to say nothing of the fact that you had only just orgasmed, sensitive. your thighs couldn’t handle the stimulation and you let out a breath of relief when his mouth separated from you, only for him to stand and force his lips against yours. you resisted, jolting away from him, but your attempts to evade him were in vain.

jaemin didn’t even need to grab your face to keep you still, because there was nowhere for you to hide. it was a disgusting, messy kiss, given that you were adamant on pushing him off. only so much of it was your fault though. jaemin liked it messy, liked how repulsed you were. he liked the grimace you were sporting and the blend of jeno’s cum and saliva dribbling down your chin. the damp spots of his saliva on your cheek from your attempts to dodge him and where his tongue pressed against you instead.

it was nauseating to you. you could taste jeno’s cum on your tongue, even though his cock hadn’t been anywhere near your mouth. and the the taste just wouldn’t go away.

jaemin, at last, pulled back, though only to laugh at the look on your face. “aw, don’t make that face. you liked it, right?”

you parted your lips to say deny him, but jaemin saw it coming and just kissed you again, not one to take no for an answer.

“okay, move your ass,” haechan said after a minute of watching you squirm. you never realized how strong jaemin was.

jaemin frowned, but moved out of the way. not because haechan told him to, but because he had something equally devious running through his brain.

you were baffled when you noticed haechan returning between your thighs, because he should’ve already had his fill. then, you noticed that he had freed his cock from his boxers in the time jaemin spent sucking on your tongue, and swallowed the lump in your throat.

you let out a cry of shock when they spread you over your desk the long way, carelessly toppling over your belongings, and yanked your skirt off your body completely. you were utterly naked, and there was no bit of you they hadn’t seen.

haechan positioned himself behind you, lining himself up at your entrance. there was so much terror in your body at the moment, scared not only for what was to come, but of liking it too.

“please,” you begged, trying to negotiate once more. “you boys should fool around with someone your own age.”

haechan snickered, as if that was funny. he probably thinks it is. “maybe, but where’s the fun in that?”

your jaw slacked when his first thrust drew a pitched cry from the back of your throat. he wasn’t even half as patient as his father would be to sheathe himself completely. johnny would take his time, wallowing in your wetness just before slowly but steadily filling you, inch by fucking inch. haechan, on the other hand, went straight for the kill.

but to your horror, you were soaked enough for him to slip right in smoothly, to say nothing of jeno’s leftover cum facilitating the process. haechan was girthy like johnny too, in spite of all of their stark differences, and you hated that it was so familiar how he was stretching you out.

“wait,” you whimpered, fingers clamping aggressively against the edges of your desk. “haechan, please. you don’t need to do this.”

irritated, jeno nudged jaemin, groaning, “will you shut her up already?”

“gladly,” jaemin chirped, a devilish little smile tugging at his lips.

you lifted your head up when you heard jaemin approaching the side of your desk that you were facing, watching him shuffle out of his pants and boxers, and you quickly started to flail. haechan grabbed your neck, lowered his head, and hissed, “behave, or we’ll have to tell the class that their favorite professor is just a slutty little whore.” 

you stilled, remembering what was at stake. it wasn’t just your career, but johnny’s too. the second it got out that the two of you were involved in an affair, you knew you would both have to answer for your sins.

when jaemin finally got his underwear off, lengthy hard cock standing angrily against his stomach, he positioned himself beside your mouth and crooned, “say ‘ah.’”

“i don’t want to,” you whimpered.

jeno crept over, evidently disgruntled, and there was a resounding smack when his palm landed flat against your cheek. “one more thing from you and your husband’s gonna get a nice surprise in his email,” he warned.

defeated, you silently opened your mouth, letting jaemin push himself to the back of your throat. he let out a pleasant little sigh, eyes fluttering closed, paying no attention to the tears dripping down your cheeks. your mouth was too warm for him to a give damn whether or not you wanted this, to care about what you were feeling.

all the while, haechan’s hands were bruising your hips with the merciless grip he had of them. unlike you, his moans were unrestrained, never shy to reveal the ecstasy making his blood pump and his dick throb. you were so wet, so tight, everything he imagined tenfold. his father didn’t deserve you, not in his opinion. everything johnny could do, haechan was certain that he could do better, even if you didn’t want to confess.

even if he was a lot less caring than his dad would present. you didn’t know johnny, not like you thought. the dark side haechan had didn’t just come out of nowhere. though you would never realize, there was a clear reason why haechan was so sick in the head, especially when it came to you. why he took great delight in forcing you over your desk, stuffing you full of his cock and listening to you cry, struggling to hide that you loved his cock.

“he doesn’t love you, you know,” haechan said none too gently, snickering from between your legs. “i hope you realize you’re just another easy whore. not the first, not the last.”

there was so much going on that you were hoping you could somehow detach yourself from the brutal reality. not only was your body overloaded, but your mind and soul, ripping a hole right through all that you thought to be true.

it was all too fucking much. “your mouth feels so good,” jaemin exhaled, a hand tangled through your hair.

“you should feel her pussy. she’s so fucking wet, dude. and she thinks we’re going to buy that she’s not begging for this,” haechan replied, completely degrading. 

jaemin chuckled breathlessly. you were sucking it out of him, against your will or not. “yeah, i can hear how wet she is.”

jeno said nothing, but you were already too overwhelmed to notice his absence in the conversation. he was engrossed in thought, waiting with staggering patience for his own turn. which wasn’t typical for him at all. he swore, when he was done with you, you weren’t even going to think for weeks. 

between haechan’s twisted smack of his hips against yours and the way jaemin was unabashedly using your mouth to get off, you couldn’t decide which was more brutal. torture was torture, but if it was meant to be so bad, there shouldn’t have been moans slipping from your mouth uncontrollably. there shouldn’t have been a familar weight sitting in the pit of your stomach, waiting to wreck you.

“i know you love this,” haechan said, maybe project just a little, but the body didn’t lie and he could feel you tightening. “i know you love this fucking dick. wish i could hear you say it, baby.”

“that can be arranged,” jaemin quipped, but it took you by surprise when he actually pulled his cock from your mouth. “c’mon, angel. tell haechan how much you love his dick.”

your face flushed with humiliation, but you knew what would happen if you failed to comply. “i...,” you started, hesitant. “i love your dick, haechan.”

haechan smacked your ass, making you stifle a scream. “again.”

you cried out, “i love your dick!”

“i know,” haechan said, sickeningly confident in himself. “i also know that you’re about to cum.”

it was maddening that your husband of ages could hardly even get you off these days but some students in your class were recognizing the signs in record time. you were also ashamed with yourself for being so aroused, for needing to orgasm this badly, but you forfeited control of yourself moments ago.

jaemin had enough and once his dick started to twitch desperately, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, chasing relief for the raging hard-on you’d given him. rather than you sucking him off, it was more of him relentlessly fucking your throat, not stopping when you gagged.

and it wasn’t long before the three of you ultimately came, like a chain of dominoes collapsing after each other. this orgasm was just as powerful as the one that came before, the room reeling as your screams were muffled against jaemin’s stiff cock. your whole body was a thousand degrees hotter. jaemin’s warm cum releasing in your mouth while haechan’s seeped deeply into your pussy.

although you tried to swallow jaemin’s cum, per his request, some of it dripped onto the floor. you were terrified of leaving evidence of this encounter, wishing you would’ve gulped it all back, but then you felt haechan’s cum leaking out of you and your priorities shifted.

“my turn,” jeno said, though that was a given. you were confused when he started to spread haechan’s cum over your asshole, though for the longest you could feel his stare burning through your backside.

baffled, and maybe somewhat startled, you asked, “jeno, what are you doing?”

“shut the fuck up,” jeno snapped belligerently, smacking his palm harshly against your cunt. you cried out in pain, unexpecting. “i’m tired of hearing your voice. just take it.”

but nothing could have prepared you for what was to come. nothing could have prepared you for the merciless way he penetrated your ass, effectively knocking the wind out of you. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if all the air in the sky was stolen and hid in this little box somewhere.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to beg for forgiveness for whatever you had done, but no sound would come from your mouth. there was only instant tears, your hands gripped the rim of your desk for purchase. the makeup you were wearing was ruined ages ago, but it had to have looked despicable now, because you were sobbing harder than ever.

“poor thing.” jaemin frowned, pretending to be compassionate. that was something he was good at, you realized. he had you fooled until you saw how recklessly he fucked your throat, and you came to accept they were all too alike.

“she’ll be, fuck, fine,” jeno groaned, careless. he was the roughest of the bunch, the most antagonistic. “this hole is so fucking tight.”

jeno was pressing you against the desk harder than haechan had, roughly mishandling you. it was obvious that jeno didn’t see you as his equal. when it came to you, all he gave a damn about was passing your class and fucking your ass.

never in your life had anyone ever fucked you there before, and the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. you were so repulsed, choking on your own feelings as they killed you slowly. the pain was unbearable, making it impossible to remain still, but that didn’t matter when jeno had you borderline flattened.

it was almost awe-inducing how he held you down with ease, regardless of how strong you thought you were and how violently you were reacting. it was the closest thing to being split open. pitiful little noises escaped you, but you bit them back, because the last thing you wanted was to get caught. somehow, though, the shock was more agonizing than the pain itself.

your agonized whimpers and jeno’s husky grunts made an awkward cacophony. if there was any of them that got off to your helplessness, you knew it was all of them, but jeno had to wallow in it more than either of them.

haechan and jaemin were stroking their cocks to the sight of you being ravaged to the point of total destruction. there were plenty of times in your life where you felt nothing short of broken, but this was a different variant, a kind from which you knew that you would never recover.

jeno couldn’t believe his thick cock was even fitting into your tight, flexing asshole, though then again, whatever you thought you couldn’t take, jeno would make you do. your body was for his own personal amusement. he leveraged himself deeper and deeper, groaning and laughing, using you to his advantage. because what jeno wanted, he always got. every time without fail. obviously, you were no exception to this pattern, even if it was to your own dismay.

your lip was bleeding from how frequently you were biting. all you wanted was to protect your reputation. you had things to lose, things you knew jeno would steal away from you in a heartbeat, because all he did was take.

“she’s such a damn whore, fuck. she should be grateful i’m fucking her,” jeno hissed, aggressive.

given how much you had heard adjacent statements in the past hour, you were starting to believe them, no matter how disparaging they were. you were accepting the cold truth, that this was your punishment for being unfaithful.

quickening his pace, jeno continued, “i’ve never wanted to fuck that nasty little pussy of hers. not when everybody’s been inside of it. but i can tell she’s never had this ass stretched before.”

his words were hurting more than his cruel movements, and you didn’t understand the science behind that. you whined, “jeno.” please, have mercy, was what you wanted to say, but you knew there was no point.

jeno squeezed your neck, cutting off your ability to inhale, and you felt every nerve in your body start to panic. “for the umpteenth time, shut the fuck up. no one’s fucking talking to you, bitch.”

you quieted, face tensing with delirious pain. 

“pathetic if you ask me,” haechan added, breath shaky. “her husband’s dick isn’t good enough for her, so she fucks my dad, and now that we give her three more, she still has the audacity to complain.”

jaemin snorted. “textbook cockslut.”

you wanted to speak, you were desperate to defend your honor and identity, but you had already said enough and you were lucky that they hadn’t already decided to expose you to the whole planet. you had no defenses against them, nothing in your arsenal. 

“begging us to stop, but she won’t stop fucking cumming. needy little bitch,” jeno chided, though judging from his breathlessness, he was far from disgruntled.

jaemin chortled, his cock still close to your face, and it was making you mildly uncomfortable. “maybe we should send her back to the husband with some tips.”

“oh, i’ve got one,” haechan said, beaming with his usual mischief. “hold her down and use her little holes until you’re done.”

“yeah, looks like she loves that,” jaemin retorted. 

jeno quipped, “we should’ve recorded. maybe showed him a tutorial.”

haechan blew out a contented sigh. “well, there’s always next time.”

your heart was taut with fear at the thought of there being a next time, but the three of your students were grinning with excitement, as if they wholly anticipated reliving this moment in the not so distant future.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jeno grunted, wanting to go even deeper, but there was nowhere for him to move. 

haechan hummed, reminiscing over how good it felt to cum inside of your throbbing pussy. how you milked the cum out of him, bled him dry. “shame she’s on birth control. i overheard her and my dad talking,” he replied, nonchalant. “imagine if we got her pregnant.”

“man, don’t talk like that,” jeno groaned. 

haechan glanced to jaemin, both of them snickering amongst each other. “dude, i was just kidding. don’t tell me that’s actually getting your dick hard.”

“fuck, i’m gonna…”

the most delicious growl came from the tip of jeno’s tongue when he released inside of your asshole, his brows scrunching together with pleasure. his hips finally grinded to a halt when he met his climax, dumping way too much of his load inside. you could feel his fingertips leaving marks that would indefinitely stain your skin, and you dreaded having to explain them to your husband.

when jeno finally pulled away from you, having had his fill for now, your body went limp against your desk. you could have moved, but you were too exhausted. sweat cooled down your back, chilling you to shudders, but there wasn’t a single thought in your head. all you could do was lie there, used and exploited, hoping that life would return to the way you knew it before they broke you.

because right now, it was bland. the only thing you could feel was the soreness in your legs and the cum dripping from your hole, numbing yourself to everything else.

there was so patronizing about the way jeno turned to you, asking with the slyest grin on his face, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

#tw: noncon #nct dream smut #lee haechan smut #lee jeno smut #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream hard hours #haechan smut #jeno smut #revehae fics

[berryzxx]

can i request an Azriel x reader where Elain and Azriel get too close and reader get's jelous so sits on the opposite end of the table and he has to apologise and everything. Thankss

(u dont have to do it )

It's always going to be you

(I've changed abit of it but there's still "apologising and everything") also if u see any mistakes NO YOU DIDN'T. :) xx

Summary: You and Azriel spend less time with each other and soon it seems he spends more time with Elain- apologising and fluff

Azriel x reader

I watched, holding my breath as Elain let out a small laugh at something Azriel said, her hand coming up to rest on his arm. Did she need to do that? No, she probably didn't. But I let it go because she was getting better now. Her smiles were more frequent and if she found my mate funny then fine. I wouldn't be jealous about it.

Another week later and Elain and Azriel were walking the streets of Velaris. I had paused in my tracks to watch them, their heads bent together talking about something important it seemed. It felt like I hadn't gone shopping with Az in so long let alone have a nice conversation that lasted longer than a minute. They seemed comfortable together. Fine. As long as they were both happy there was no reason for me to jump to conclusions.

It was game night and Elain and Azriel had paired up. Yes, they were playing chess against each other but they chose each other and left me on the side lines, merely part of the audience. I wasn't even give a second glance. "Y/n? Aren't you going to play?" Cassian asked from where he was sat on the sofa, one arm around Nesta the other holding a glass of wine.

I shook my head "I'm tired. Maybe next time" I turned to look back at Azriel because like usual I was drawn to him. It seemed he was unaffected by our bond now because he hadn't even looked at me once throughout the entire day. The longer I stared the harder it was to fight back tears. I stood up and mumbled an excuse to leave, Nesta being the only one who listened to my made up excuse. I walked out the house and rubbed my hands together, my feet taking me to the bench I had sat on so many times. Luckily I was smart enough to grab hold of a thick shawl before leaving. The Sidra was as beautiful as always, lights glowing around the area, Fae spilling out of different bars across the street.

I pulled the shawl closer to me and tried to enjoy the sight in front of me rather than my mind going back to things I didn't want to think about.

Where are you?

Y/n? Are you okay? Where are you? Tell me where you are.

Sweetheart please. Are you allright?

Azriel's voice, panicked and full of fear in my mind. The spiteful thing to do would be to ignore him and build a barrier between the both of us but because I was never able to see or hear Azriel worry for so long I replied with

I'm fine

I went home for the night, enjoy yourself

I blocked him out. I didn't want to think about anything right now. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

Of course if someone asked if I still loved him I would have replied with a "yes" in a heartbeat. Maybe we just needed space. Or maybe I was being dramatic. It's not as if I had walked in on them kissing or something.

"Fancy seeing you here, y/n" Someone said. I had to blink away my sleepiness and try and find the source of the voice. It was Keller. A friend who I usually had lunch with when I was in town or needed someone to help me translate a piece of text.

I gave him a warm smile, his blonde almost silver hair shining in the street lamps.

"Is there a seat free?" He gestured next to me at the empty bench but before I could answer a loud thud was heard behind me and without having to turn around I could tell who it was. He must have hidden his scent because otherwise I would have known he was coming this way earlier.

"Apologies, but the seats taken. You should get going now" Azriel's voice was tight and full of anger, one wrong answer from Keller would result in things that were too gruesome too think of.

Still, he hesitated, looking between me and Azriel who was behind me and probably sending daggers at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night" I gave him an awkward smile, trying to reassure him.

"Right. Enjoy your time." And with a nod "Shadowsinger" He walked away soon disappearing behind a corner. I didn't bother turning around and instead waited for Azriel to show himself. His footsteps were light as his form came into view, blocking the scene of the Sidra. He stood there for a good minute or so evaluating every inch of me with his piercing eyes. His shadows moved away from him, coming to brush against me as if they were checking if I was ok as well.

"Are you all right? Your not hurt are you?" His voice was soft, a great contrast to the tone he was using with Keller a second ago.

I sighed "Physically, yes"

He took this as a chance to sit down next to me, making sure there was a small distance between us. As if he wasn't sure what I wanted. I wasn't sure either. I wanted space but I also wanted him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be alright.

"I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you had been taken. I thought I wouldn't see you again" Azriel's voice was quiet and almost broken in a way. I turned to look at him, to see if he was the same Azriel as a few weeks ago.

"What's happened to us?" I asked. I didn't know either but there was one thing I knew and that was something had changed.

As soon as the words escaped me, Azriel froze. His breathing coming to a stop and his eyes focused completely on me and my breathing. For the first time in my life I heard him stumble over his words "what...what do you mean?" He asked, his voice so quiet and full of worry. His shadows paused their constant movement around me and froze as well, their touch now cold.

I wrapped my arms around me, the shawl suddenly not doing much to block the cold out properly "Don't you feel as if we've grown apart? Like...maybe we aren't as close as we used to be?"

I couldn't look at him while saying that. Instead I let my head fall back so I could look at the comforting sight of the stars. Something that was always there. I felt a slight shift to my right where Azriel moved closer to me, his wings coming to wrap around me.

I looked at him, opening my mouth to thank him for the warmth but before I could say anything his shaky voice interrupted me "I love you. I will always love you. I am so sorry you felt as if I wasn't giving you enough time. I know you deserve more than I could ever-"

I put my hand up to stop him "It's not about that. It's about you always being with Elain. Tell me, Azriel. How long has it been since we've been shopping together? How long has it been since you've come home when I'm not asleep because it's the middle of the night? How long will this go on? This back and forth of me waiting for you while you go off with Elain doing who knows what"

I felt his heart beat increase with every word I said and as I let it all out I felt full of guilt. I was being irrational and dramatic. And Azriel didn't deserve it. We had been through so much and I was complaining about him not spending time with me

"sorry. I didn't mean that. I just...got carried away" I looked away from him. He looked heartbroken and I had done that to him.

A silent minute passed before Azriel broke it by picking me up and winnowing us to his room

"what? what are you doing?" I asked, disoriented from the winnowing. I sat on his bed, trying to get used to the soft lighting in his room.

He sat next to me and held my hands in his, warmth seeping through me "I could never cheat on you, sweetheart. I'd rather shred my wings than hurt you. You understand that...don't you? There is nothing between me and Elain and there never will be. I'm sorry you felt that way" He pressed a kiss to my hand, his eyes golden in the light. The way he looked at me made me think, how could I have doubted him?

"I know you aren't cheating. Of course I know that but why does it feel like you spend more time with her than me?" I ask quietly, afraid of the answer. Maybe it's because I've become boring now after all these years.

"My love, your the one who told me to help her. You told me spend time with her because she seemed to like my company. I did it for you, sweetheart. Don't you think I'd rather spend my time with my beautiful mate?"

His hand moved up to cup my cheek, brushing away a tear that had escaped. "It's always going to be you."

I leaned into his comforting warmth and let my doubts and fears wash away. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Az"

"you had every right to" He mumbled back, his arms now encircling me completely. I felt safe and wanted in his arms, like nothing could ever go wrong.

(KEEP IN MIND I LOVE ELAIN EVERYONE. my personal opinion is she should end up with lucien)- as usual not proof read

#azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel spymaster #azriel supremacy #fluff #apologising #berryfics #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x y/n #elain #azriel x oc #acotar fic #berryreplies #acomaf #acowar #nesta #cassian #nesta archeron #azriel x reader angst #acotar x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x reader fluff

[crystlizabeth]

You belong to me..

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Shadow!femreader

Summery: she may have been a shadow and worked for graves but when your commanders friendliness becomes a bit to touchy it’s a problem, you don’t touch pretty things that belong to Simon Riley.

Warnings: possessiveness, unprotected sex, jealousy, praising, mentions of blood, not proofread

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon hated watching those shadows touch you, even if it was ‘friendly’. You smiled at every praise that left Graves lips of how you did such a good job, the pat to your back to low for Simon’s liking and the way he let his hand drag as he walked away. Simon couldn’t help but wonder how Graves was towards you when nobody was around, even if he was your commander your superior he wasn’t allowed to touch you like that. Simon clenched his fist as you stood there soon turning towards him, your gaze different a look a smile that was only meant for him displayed on your pretty face.

A sweet face that he’d have buried in a pillow tears go pleasure running down you face. You saw the way his eyes watched you his dark eyes hooded dangerously staring you down. Price catching Simon’s attention was the only thing that made him look away from you, one last glance towards you before following Price.

Even with that gold ring on your finger signafying that you where his, the last name on your Files no longer yours but his. It wouldn’t be enough he wanted you to himself he had begged price multiple times to call a transfer of you to 141 but Graves always declined because you worked for the United States, the Shadows you belonged to Graves.

But jealousy gets the best of everyone right?

Simons hands grabbing the side of Phillips vest slamming him against the wall, “what crawled up your ass and died Lieutenant.” Graves groaned.

“Why is it you always find your hands on my wife.” Simon spoke his face close to Phillips, his voice dark.

An ugly smirk appeared on Phillips face the cocky twat only shrugged his shoulders a short reply “She’s nice, a good asset to me. She is a good asset.”

That right there if he could without geting put away for life would have taken his knife and silt Phillips throat, carving the commander inside out and feed it to his Shadows and Shepherd himself. Instead Ghost fist connected to his face, more than once, enough to leave blood on his hands and the shirt he wore. He let go of Graves letting him slide down the wall, “if you’re smart, you’ll keep your hands to yourself and mouth shut.” Simon spike lowly leaning down to make eye contact with him.

“I don’t see what she sees in you…” Phillip coughed wiping the blood from his nose.

Simon stayed silent, he didn’t need to answer that because you saw him for him he didn’t have to explain what you saw in him to someone who’s been wanting you to themselves. “I’ll give her the world a safe home and face to look at… your really think she’ll stick around you forever, please. I see her more day out of the year you do why do you think I decline those transfers from your captain. Just to spite you and help her forget you.” Phillip said blood dripping from his toothy smile.

Simon was fuming, his knuckles splitting even more from clenching them. Who did graves think he was? You stuck around someone like that, even bleeding and in pain graves still chose to test his limits.

One punch after another Simon was on top of him graves of course fighting back but a man’s rage was different few more punches and he stopped. Phillip was still alive he was gonna leave him there to rot nobody would believe him he was a traitor staying in UK soil this was bound to happen. And even then Simon had proof that it was just self defense.

Grabbing Philips hair making him look up at Him “Ya listen here, stay the fuck off my wife she can work for your or you’ll be smart and start a transfer. But may god help you if you lay a finger on her again.” Simon spoke harshly finishing by pushing Graves against the wall.

The click of your door opening startled you awake, but the figure that stood in the hall light that poured into your room made you less tense. “Simon..you can be in here..” your voice groggy, your eyes scanning over him at yuh turn your light on. He was covered in blood his mask held in his left hand as he looked at you.

You quickly got you closing your door pushing him to the bed sitting him down “who did this to you.. Simon.” You spoke lifting the bloody shirt off his head his blond hair sticking up.

“It’s not mine.”

It’s not his? Who’s was it then, who pushed him over the edge just enough. Was he gonna get in trouble for this, arrested. “Love stop the worrying..” he spoke breaking you out of your thoughts his large hands pulling you towards him.

He pulled you in close sitting you in his lap your thighs falling around his waist, the feeling of his hands grabbing your face made you wince a bit the feeling of dried blood on his hands made you cringe.

“You belong to me..” he spoke his dark eyes penetrating yours. “You belong to me.” His words stern and harsh.

“Say it.”

“I belong to you Simon.” You spoke his hands falling down your face his hands finding the bottom of your shirt lifting it over your head. You could feel the tension radiating of his skin, he was gonna take his stress and the rest of his anger out on you.

“Good girl, say it again, tell me I’m allowed to have you as I please.” He spoke his lips kissing your neck.

You obeyed “ I belong you you Simon, take me. Have me I’m yours.”

His lips met your kissing you so hungrily he was here to remind you who you belonged to. His hand grabbed the band if your panties pulling his hand back harshly snapping them at the pulling them if you your bare cunt exposed to his trousers. He lifted you up dropping your body on the the mattress as he undid his pants, quickly finding himself on top of you.

“Are you sure.”

“Take me Simon, I’m yours.”

That’s all he needed to hear, his fat head spreading your wet folds apart as he pushing into you. It’s been a minute since he’s been in you but your walls always seemed to mold around him so nicely, those gorgeous sounds you made slipping from your lips as he started moving.

The sound of skin slapping as he fucked into your poor cunt, you drooled for him. He knew how to make a mess out of you, your nails digging into his back as he bullied your pretty pussy. Even with every hard thrust he loved you so well, kissing you so tenderly as your cried out to him. You soft whimpers pleading for him drive him crazy this is how he knew you where his, his to destroy, his to love.

Your finger tangled his his blonde curls tugging on them as he made love to you cradling your head your knees pressed to your chest, he felt every inch of you. “Please don’t stop Si, god please don’t stop.” You cried out.

He didn’t the tightness of your walls staring to clamp around him was enough to bring him to his edge the moans that escaped your lips was enough to make him cum knowing that he made you this way. Your body folded into a mating press as you came on his fat cock. Your pleds for him to cum in you, that you wanted him to fill you marking you as his once again make you need him for days after. His thick seed filling up your puffy cunt, his white nut spilling out the sides as he fucked it into you.

“Common take it, yeah atta girl fucking take it.” He growled pumping in and out of you your nails digging into his biceps the feeling of his thick nut filling you making your eyes roll back.

His cock still in you as he sat up letting your legs fall down your chest falling up and down heavily, your body glistening from sweat. You were gonna be walking funny the next morning that’s for sure, “I didn’t hurt you right?” He asks his calluses hands gliding up and down your torso.

You shook your head no, “good..” he said leaning down kissing your lips tenderly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up yeah..”

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon smut!! I have a Johnny one coming sooner or later!!

#ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x black reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley cod #ghost x black reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #x black reader #black fem reader #phillip graves

[neoyi]

Okay, cool. I can finally talk about the absolute catharsis I felt after fifteen years hoping - dreaming - of this moment because holy SHIT, they did it. They goddamn DID IT.

VLAD GOT HIS REDEMPTION ARC.

Let's talk about it...

By the end of the third season, Vlad Masters had ostracized the entire planet by exposing his true self (why), demanding money and total command of Earth, and completely wailing on Jack Fenton, driving away the only member of that family who unequivocally adored the man where every other Fenton knew him for who he truly was: utterly despicable and incapable of seeing the bigger picture.

Because, after all, he is a villain and that's just what villains do. Villains want power. Villains want to rule the world. There need not be more than that, and in another show, there wouldn't have to be. As far as Hartman was concerned, there is only a binary Good vs. Evil.

You would be hard-pressed to view the Vlad in "Phantom Planet" as the same man who anguished in desperate madness when his perfect clone son died in his arms. That was a Vlad who, by that point, had taken his biggest gamble and lost. I guess one could see his reasoning in season three as a "fuck it all, what even is the point" mode. But while "Eye For an Eye" (tellingly, the last major script helm by former main story writer Steve Marmel... just saying) promised a personal conflict, by the end of the show, he's made it much more external, far greater than what he and Danny's interwoven plot originally started off as.

Vlad is pathetic. Vlad is narcissistic. He is egotistical, entitled; a bitter, arrogant man who lives in his dream castle with all the money and privilege in the world that would leave him content a hundred times over, and it's still not enough.

Money is not Maddie Fenton, the woman he loves. Money is not Jazz, a child that should have been his. Money is not Jack's friendship whom he denies severely, the only part of his life who willingly embraces him. And money is not Danny, who is a half-ghost like him, and by all rights, should have been his son.

No one else could ever understand to the fullest extent of their uniqueness than Vlad and Danny would to each other, and the latter, for the longest time, hated that. Hated the way Vlad talked down to him and manipulated him, hated the whispers into his ears with promises of grand power if he just joined the billionaire's side and become his ward, hated when he caved in just once in front of Vlad's eyes who responded with a smug "See, I know you" reaction. Danny was fortunate to have good moral compasses from his family and friends, but the thing is, though, it's not about the healthy support structure he had, because Vlad had the chance to get some, too. Jack and Maddie loved Danny no matter what he was, and dollars to donuts, they would have for Vlad if the latter had approached them with his problems.

But he chose instead to be bitter and miserable, taking it out on everyone and expecting them to fall into his train of thought. The show knew what he did was wrong, but until season three, never stopped repeating his truest desire: to find love and squash his crushing loneliness.

Hartman couldn't provide a damn on what exactly was Vlad's "destiny" in "Infinite Realm"; it was vague gesturing to excuse his villainy. He was more than happy to abandon the life he's made for himself and the woman he loved in spite of two decades of planning, all on a whim for whatever time period the Infi-map was willing to take him, hoping maybe this one will give him the unconditional worship that he thinks he's deserved (by force, of course.)

Because he's the villain.

And for the longest time, the show ended with the idea that Vlad deserved to be stranded, away from people, because he simply could not help himself. To be fair, there is a lesson in that - some people genuinely DO go so far that there really is nothing more we can do other than stop the problem before they cause any further harm. I'm not denouncing that.

What I AM denouncing is the the narrative plant that's dug its way into the greater plot where an older Vlad in "The Ultimate Enemy", realized what a fool he had been. What he wouldn't give to start all over and be a better person. You don't just give someone a sympathetic goal like "looking for love", constantly provide the necessary stepping stones, and not have it set up for something far more substantial than what we got.

And even then, even if it still ended with Vlad being too far gone, I wonder, should the supposedly original plot arc for season three had been made, would Vlad's fate there been far more appropriate than whatever cartoonish supervillainy he ended up as by the time "Phantom Planet" ended?

I cannot speak for Gabriela Epstein. I cannot say how much Nickelodeon allowed her to tinker with the DP world. All of this is presumptuous speculation on my part, but this entire comic feels like they looked at season three, particularly "Phantom Planet", realized what a travesty that was, had their work cut out for it, and went about to make a post-series finale story that still paid tribute to its ending while wiping it off the map.

Vlad's redemption is the crux.

Within just a few panels, Gabriela Epstein provided an explanation on the why of Vlad's actions circa-season three. The Infi-Map was aimless because Vlad's purpose was aimless. And Vlad's purpose was aimless because his need to be in control was a manifestation of his greatest fear: being alone.

"A Glitch in Time" recontexualizes why Vlad traveled across time in "Infinite Realm." It wasn't a generic bad-guy-wants-to-rule-the-world-through-latest-plot-claptrap, but an act of utter desperation from a man who had since lost the biggest connection to his very being: Danny.

It started with Maddie (someone whom Vlad only interacts once in the comic, but is an acknowledgement of his villainous origin, nonetheless), and it may still end with Danny.

Never, in a million, billion years, have I even thought about another redemption arc... for Dark Danny.

And I am kicking myself for not even considering such an option. I had pegged him so far gone, so far past the breaking point to think otherwise. Dark Danny was suppose to be the outcome of a Danny at his literal worst: a too-late, too-little scenario. Back then, it was a symbol of Danny's rejection of what Vlad expected and desired of him.

But the comic made me sit down and think about the implication of Dark Danny's very existence, that of a man who lost his family and friends ten years ago as a child. Like Vlad, he, too was alone, and had carried a tremendous amount of pain and anguish that his human half just could not bear.

Yeah, they died because of a time loop HE created, but that doesn't erase that he was born from a horrible trauma that he could not properly cope with. And Vlad, try as he might, did not fix it. All he ended up doing was separate a ghost - infamous for their obsessions, and now, as the comic established, a carrier of human emotions - to exist. And Dark Danny carried so much raw emotion that he retaliated very, very violently.

Everyone's respond at that time was to fight him and stuff him in a Fenton Thermos for eternity. I am not saying Danny wasn't justified in fighting his darker self because the dude legitimately caused massive damage and likely murdered a hell of a lot of people, I am just saying Dark Danny is the byproduct of a scared, lonely, traumatized child.

And what does he do? He tries to take what he thinks is his by any means necessary. Vlad got his wish, he got the son he wanted.

And he's facing him now.

And he gets it.

He finally fucking GETS IT.

Which shouldn't have been a surprise because his "The Ultimate Enemy" counterpart got it. He looked at the devil that he created and lingered as a hermit in regret. And now Vlad - Vlad Prime - reacted the same.

Only this time, he can fix it.

I did not anticipate that Vlad's redemption would happen at the same time as Dark Danny's. I didn't expect the two of them to link other than the latter being another number in Vlad's bullshit entitlement count.

I love that it isn't Danny who heals him, but Vlad. It had to be Vlad. In order to own up to his actions, Vlad had to look at the eyes of the boy he was entrusted and corrupted beforehand and apologize for what he put him through. And I don't mean just "The Ultimate Enemy", Vlad is apologizing for everything he's done up to this point.

He (temporarily) sacrifices his body to stabilize Dark Danny who has fucked up the time stream so much that he wouldn't be able to exist otherwise. And only then do the two of them get what they've longed for.

Vlad gets a son.

Dark Danny gets a family.

Holy forking shirt balls.

I have a lot of problems with alternate counterparts sticking around longer than they should in the "main" setting of a show. Usually I'm fine when it's an alternate counterpart demonstrated as someone the hero is trying so hard not to be, because it's compelling to see what could have been under different circumstances. It's another thing when you have another version of the main character running around doing their own thing. Multiverse characters are inherently messy just by existing, but it gets worse when they take away from the uniqueness of the central protagonist.

There's something awkward about two Danny Phantoms living in the same world, and in any other scenario, I would have hated it. But Dark Danny is of a vastly different background brought forth from a long, nuanced, engaging history between him and Vlad.

Danny's central journey - the cusp of the show - has always been the Spider-Man mantra, "great powers = great responsibilities." You are in charge of how you carry the burden of your powers. Vlad has been the one constant always challenging and belittling his selflessness. "A Glitch in Time" had Danny asking himself, what is his purpose? Who is he now that everything has been neatly wrapped up?

Writing anything about who Danny is means Vlad is presented in some way, shape, or form. They are so thoroughly linked to each other, and it's that link that simultaneously serve to push their own individual character arc, and their relationship with each other.

So, Vlad gets a son. Dark Danny gets a family. They get a second chance, and it is up to them to work it out. I have no idea if Vlad got his wealth back. Everything is restored as is, except Danny's secret identity is secured again (which I am 100% fine with except for one notable exception, but that's another topic for another day) and implication that Vlad was just a crummy mayor with no indication the greater public is also aware of his Plasimus mode (which I am also fine with.)

There's a part of me who thinks he should have lost the money and power he's accumulated because he gained them through his vice, but if he's back in his Wisconsin cheese castle, then he can damn well use the money he has to not only benefit the world (charities, improving human lives, funding Fenton Works ;D...), but to raise his son.

Dark Danny is going to have to adjust to the idea that his father is Vlad, something he was already expected to do so when he orphaned himself and moved in with him. But it's Vlad who has to work the most out of the two: as a parental figure - as an adult - he's always had a power over Danny regardless of what timeline they're in. Most of the time, he's abused it heavily.

The second chance Vlad has been given here means he has the ability to provide a safe, healthy environment. It's more than he deserves. He failed with Danny and he absolutely failed with Dani (another can of worms in itself; she's not mentioned in the comic, and I imagine it's because her story would need a comic of her own), he cannot fail with this Danny.

Vlad shouldn't have been given a child at all until there was a guarantee that he could work through his bullshit, but Dark Danny is a special case. He is a kid who needs a home and someone to love him unconditionally, and Vlad needs to learn boundaries while giving selfless love in order to be loved himself.

Clockwork gave Vlad a test, so get studying, dude.

This does not erase how Danny Prime feels about him. He may never want to forgive Vlad, and that's his right. He can acknowledge however, that, in order to help those in need of healing, a door can be opened, even if slightly ajar.

For Vlad, that may just take a bit longer and that's completely understandable.

Vlad can't have the kind of relationship he wants with this Danny, but maybe one day, they can be equals - friends.

Like christ, I think this is the first time Vlad has actually, genuinely asked if Danny was alright.

The comic was already good prior to this, but just knowing - understanding that Vlad was more than "a villain" - meant after fifteen looooong years, we finally see the promises of a brighter future for a man with shitty priorities, but a sympathetic goal.

"It's over, isn't it? It's over, isn't it? It's over, isn't it..."

#danny phantom #vlad masters #neoyi talks #comics #a glitch in time #a glitch in time spoilers #yeah this one im tagging #this essay is over a 1000 words it's pathetic

[its-your-mind]

*deep breath in*

the fears 👏 have always 👏 been (in one way or another) 👏 parallel 👏 to 👏 desire 👏

let me explain.

so many of the statements given by actual avatars center around some sort of need that was met by their entity. Lots of them even had a positive relationship with the fear that drove them.

Jane Prentiss is an excellent example - the Corruption has always been about a form of toxic and possessive love, but she personally has a deep desire to be “fully consumed by what loves her,” and finds a perverse joy and relief at allowing herself to be a home

Jude Perry is another - she fucking loved watching people’s lives be utterly destroyed. The Desolation only offered her a power of destruction on a grander scale, and then gave her a more intense rush of joy as she did its work. When she tells Jon that he needs to feed the Eye before it feeds on him, it’s almost as an afterthought; she was happily feeding the Desolation long before it burned her into a new existence.

Simon Fairchild. Every time that old loose bag of bones wanders into the picture, he is having a fucking EXCELLENT time playing with the Vast. He loves showing people their own insignificance, and he loves luring them into situations where he can throw them into the void as he smiles and waves.

Peter Lukas (hell, the whole Lukas family (except Evan. RIP Evan.)) hated. people. all he wanted was for them all to go away, to leave him alone. The Lonely only fulfilled that desire.

Daisy, Trevor, and Julia, all devoted to hunting those things they deemed monstrous.

Melanie, holding tight to that bullet in her leg because on some level, she wanted it. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like it fit right alongside the anger and spite that drove her to success.

Annabelle Cane first encountered the Web when she was a child, running away from home in order to tug on her parents’ heartstrings in just the right way to have them wrapped around her little finger. Later on she volunteered to be the subject of an ESP study. Hell, she’s the one who dangled the “Is it really You that wants this?” question over Jon’s head in S4.

And that brings us to Jon, beloved Jarchivist, the Voice that Opened the Door. Ever since he was a child targeted by the Web, he was looking for answers. He joined the Magnus Institute’s Research Department looking for them, he stalked his coworkers in search for them, he broke into Gertrude’s flat and laptop out of desperation for them. And when he realized that all he had to do was Ask to get truthful answers to his questions? It was only natural for him to jump at that opportunity.

Elias told S3 Jon that he did want this, that he chose it, that at every crossroads he kept pushing onwards, and the inner turmoil that caused was one of the focal points for Jon’s character through the rest of the podcast.

There’s a certain line of thinking in many circles about the power of the Devil: he’s not able to create anything new. All he’s able to do is twist and warp that which was already present, making it something ugly and profane while still maintaining the facade of something desirable.

Jon didn’t choose the Eye. But he did wander into its realm of power, exhibiting exactly the qualities it was most capable of hijacking and warping to its own ends. Jon didn’t choose the Apocalypse. But Jonah picked at him little by little, pointing him towards each Fear individually. Jon didn’t want to release the Fears. But the Web tugged on his strings just so and laid a pretty trail for him to follow until he reached its desired conclusion.

Jon didn’t choose ultimate power, or omniscience, or even his own role as Head Archivist. But he said “yes” to the right (wrong?) orders and kept on pushing for the right (wrong?) answers. He wanted to succeed at the work he had been assigned. He wanted to protect his friends. He wanted to rescue them when they were lost. He wanted to prevent the apocalypse, to save the world. He wanted to know why he was still alive, when so many had died right in front of him.

The Great Wheel of Evil Color that is the Entities might not fit as neatly into categories in this universe - maybe there was no Robert Smirke trying to impose strict categories on emotional experiences, or maybe the ways they manifest in the world has turned on its head (goodness knows many of them have been showcased and blended in some very fun and new and horrifying ways so far) - but their fundamental foundations seem to be the same. Hell, in episode one we learned that there had been enough individual incidents to create a distinction between “dolls, watching” and “dolls, human skin.”

Smirke’s Fourteen isn’t going to be relevant as common parlance, RQ said that already, but I don’t think that means the Fears themselves (and their Dream Logic-based rules) are different - I think it means that the levels of understanding, language used, and personal connections among people “in the know” are going to be entirely unfamiliar

#tma #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp meta #tmagp analysis #the entities #robert smirke #smirke's fourteen #mind write a meta post that doesn’t turn into a fucking essay challenge #I literally thought about citing my episode sources here but decided that would get too FUCKING long. #anyway I’m pulling mostly from Gerry’s statement (111) and #and the Big Elias Group Confrontation (92) #and Annabelle’s statement (147) #and then finale - 196 / 197 / 200 #there are other little lines that I grabbed - tbh feel free to ask about anything I’ve said bc I feel like I’m ready to defend a thesis #I’ve been thinking about this on and off for a few weeks since the desire thing started going around #I have an obsession with Themes as they relate to Worldbuilding and now I have subjected you all to it as well #I am serious tho if anyone wants me to pull the specific parts I’m talking about (whether cuz you have Questions or you wanna ref them too) #lmk #my hyperfocus on silly media brain might as well come in useful somehow #aight peace ✌️

[littlest-world]

At the Side of a Titan

Our First Conversation

The titans are great beasts that no man in his right mind would trust. It is fortunate then that I did not belong to that category, for you see, I have discovered life at the side of such a powerful being to be much simpler than it is within the confines of human civilization. Gone are the worries of food and shelter - a single crumb of the titan's meal could feed me for days, and no soul dare approach such a terrifying figure. At the same time, it is difficult to be so completely stripped of any sort of society. While it seemed otherwise at first, the lack of social exchanges began to weigh on me a few moons after I joined the titan's wandering across the land.

I had not one person to speak with - not even the titan, who made himself clear about the matter. They only tolerate my presence due to my insignificance, but would leave me at the first human settlement we encounter were I to cause any disturbance to them. It is for this reason that I dare not to speak much.

The titan himself seemed to be content with silence. In all the time I have traveled with the titan I have heard them say fewer than a dozen different words, and not once have I heard them speak a full sentence. I would like to think that it is understandable then that I had jumped when the titan chose to initiate a conversation with me for the very first time while we hid from a storm in a large cavern.

"Bothered?"

"E-excuse me?" worry tinted my voice, in spite of me not having anything to worry about.

"You sighed."

"Oh- did I? I apologize!" I feared the titan to be angry - perhaps he thought the sigh to be an expression of frustration, "the rain had simply saddened me, but I am perfectly well!"

"Why?"

The titan sat down in a motion that caused the bolder that I sat on to tremble terribly - almost resulting in my falling to the ground.

"Why?" I repeated, somewhat surprised, "why did the rain sadden me?"

"Yes."

The titan's usage of a word where a simple nod or even a grunt would have sufficed surprised me further, and I attempted to answer carefully.

"We humans are always sadder during the rain," I sensed it might not be enough, and continued before the titan spoke again, "I would not pretend to have a complete answer, but there are a few reasons I am able to think of."

Having paused for a moment to gather my thoughts I noticed the titan's eyes following me with great interest, I did not know what to make of it so I continued speaking - happy at the opportunity for a conversation.

"Rain brings with itself cold and darkness, and these are both things humans tend to avoid - we do not see well in the dark, and the rain constrains our vision further, and the cold is dangerous to us - it weakens and ills us."

The titan hummed in response and looked to the entrance of the cave at the heavy rain. I followed his gaze and we sat in silence for a while.

"You fear us."

I looked up at his face, and was relieved to see it curious instead of angry.

"Well, yes." Attempting to lie of this matter would have been unwise, but that just meant that I needed to tread carefully. "Your great size frightens us as we are all too aware of the harm you are capable of inflicting on us if you so choose."

"And our abilities."

My heart stopped at these words. Everyone knew of the rare powers of the titans, and everyone knew that they never spoke of them with lowly humans. At these moments I feared for my life. Have I spoken too much? Have I irritated the titan greatly enough for them to have decided to rid of me?

Still, I replied, "yes, the abilities scare us most."

The titan - lowering their head - looked away from the rain and inspected me.

"Are you scared of me?"

Yes. Yes, I am terrified.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

My body refused to react as the titan leaned lower - watching me all the while. A strange expression appeared on their face.

"Don't be scared," their voice quiet and gentle as it had never been before, "I won't hurt you."

I found myself unable to move as gigantic hands rushed towards me. In terror and awe I watched the enormous hands as one closed around my bolder, and the other around me. I would have disapproved of this, were it not for the fact that my legs chose that exact moment to buckle. I slowly sat down - using the giant hand as support, and looked up to the titan's face. Fiery-gold eyes met mine, fiery-gold eyes that followed every single one of my movements.

A heavy sigh escaped the titan's mouth, hitting me as a warm gust of wind, "sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he apologized.

That caught me unprepared. Did the titan really just apologize for scaring me? Evidently so. As my heart returned to its regular pace I managed to decipher the large being's facial expression as sorrow or perhaps regret. He really did mean his apology. For a single moment I felt a need to apologize to him for having feared him.

"There is no need to apologize," I reassured the sympathetic titan, "the matter has been cleared now," I smiled - both to help assure the titan of my forgiveness, and due to a true easing of a tension that went unnoticed by me until now.

The titan remained still for a few moments - looking me over with those terribly big eyes - before leaning back to watch the weeping heavens once more. I confess that the sight of his hands retracting away from me filled me with relief.

"What do you know about the abilities?"

I would have preferred some other topic of conversation, but with the titan's reassurance and an unhealthy supplement of curiosity I managed to continue the conversation.

"We do not know much," I began, "we only know for certain that these powers exist, and that they are inaccessible to us. All else are guesses. Are these powers tiring to wield, or do they have to be held back at all times? Do all titans possess them, or are there just a select few who are actually able to make use of them? Many of our scholars debated such questions, but to the best of my knowledge none have yet given a complete and satisfactory answer."

When an amused chuckle reverberated throughout the cave I turned to look at the titan.

"You do fear the unknown."

I do not like to admit it, but I felt embarrassment at the titan's reaction - not just for myself, but for all of humanity.

"We have good reason to," I defended, "much too often the unknown turns against us, or is used against us by some other malicious entity."

The titan thought it over shortly before shrugging.

"Fair."

I suspected him not to be entirely sincere - the slight upward curving of his lips might have went unnoticed by a fellow titan, but it clued me in to his still elevated mood. I might have continued arguing, but the titan sighed - and the smile was gone. I took that as an indication that our conversation is over, and reserved to continue watching the heavy rain.

#g/t #gt #giant/tiny #size difference #g/t writing #gt writing

[pagannatural]

1.22

Devil’s Trap

-Dean walks away from Meg and Sam is like “are you okay?” It’s just so cute how Sam shows his care for Dean by paying close attention to him like this

-Dean says he always wanted to be a fireman when he grew up and Sam goes “you never told me that!” in this cute little brother way like he can’t believe Dean would keep something like that from him.

I feel like we as a society (by which I mean the wincest posts that show up on my dash) moved on too quickly from fireman Dean. Dean would be a fantastic fucking fireman. He could put “rescued my perfect sweet-eyed baby brother from three burning buildings” on his resume. He really sees no value in anything that he can’t relate back to Sam, does he?

-The first time Dean knowingly kills someone it’s to save Sam. A love that corrupts etc

Images that feel both illegal and religious

The way Sam melts into Dean completely, mouth open, eyes shut.

Sam says softly “you saved my life back there” which is inherently romantic. Dean tells Sam “For you or dad the things I’m willing to do or kill…it scares me sometimes.” His love for Sam scares him sometimes. Dean also saved Sam in spite of his dad’s disapproval of him using the Colt.

-Dean to possessed John: “He wouldn’t be proud of me… you’re not my dad.” Yikes, condolences. Poor Dean

-Sam walks into the room to find Dean aiming the colt at John and goes “Dean!” right as Dean tells him to stay back. I have a feeling if it had been John aiming a gun at Dean, Sam still would’ve gone “Dean!” and Dean would’ve told him to stay back, and if it were either of them aiming a gun at Sam, Sam still would’ve gone “Dean!” and Dean would’ve told him to stay back. If something’s not right Sam’s gonna yell “Dean!” and Dean’s gonna tell Sam to stay back.

Dean tells Sam John is possessed.

Sam asks how do you know, because Sam likes to be informed, and Dean just says “he’s different.”

That’s enough for Sam. He GETS BEHIND DEAN. This is the underrated samdean moment of all time for me. He doesn’t even hesitate. He tested John with holy water himself, but he knows that Dean knows John well, and he trusts Dean. He said last episode that Dean is the one person he can always count on. And he doesn’t just go to his side, he stands close behind him so that Dean can protect him.

-The demon taunts Dean by saying his family doesn’t need him

and the camera cuts to Sam who’s like. He doesn’t think I need him? 🥺

-Sam shoots their possessed dad in the thigh and immediately runs to kneel by Dean and worry over him. Dean asks Sam to go check on John, and Sam makes a face like What the fuck? I’m busy checking on you

Sam complies and stands over John to check on him. It’s just so different from his concern for Dean. Like, that’s his dad that he just maimed, lying on the floor not moving, and 110% of Sam’s concern is directed at Dean. It’s not a competition, but if it were, Dean would win.

-John tells Sam “shoot me” but Dean tells him not to, so of course he listens to Dean.

John is disappointed in Sam because “killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything.” Sam looks at Dean in the rearview mirror and says “no sir, not before everything.” John is the one that Sam chose not to kill when he had the chance to kill the demon, and yet it’s Dean he’s thinking about when John says this. Nothing comes before Dean. A big part of Sam’s choice not to shoot when his dad was possessed was not being able to hurt Dean like that, knowing that Dean would rather have John alive than the demon dead. I honestly think he would’ve pulled the trigger if Dean told him to.

It’s a beautiful resolution to their fight last episode when Dean told Sam that he is more important to him than killing the demon. They’re explicitly each other’s top priorities by this last scene.

#wincest #samdean #supernatural #spn meta #spn 1x22 #season 1 overall analysis is next before season 2 episodes #because I can’t shut up! #there’s just so much per episode I need summarize this shit #get my thoughts together

[bonefall]

Do you have a top 5 dotc characters line-up? Just ones you like in general

"Top 5" is really more of a... "guys I hate the least" lineup. Characters whose treatment made me so angry it's become spite-love. It's bad in here. It's REALLY bad in here.

In no particular order, the characters I like in DOTC are,

Bumble Not JUST because of how dirty she was done, either. Bumble's amazing. She's confident, she's outgoing, she's funny! She's there for Turtle Tail when Gray Wing is treating her like shit, and friendly to every cat she meets, even when they're being dicks to her. She ALWAYS does the right thing in the end and has the best interests of her friends at heart. She's a GOOD PERSON! The ONE time she was ever ANGRY at anyone was when Turtle Tail just let her get dragged back to their wifebeater. She's only part of TWO books but she's the BEST character in the entire arc, hands down, above and beyond the rest of the cast. JUSTICE for Bumble!

Bright Stream She got fridged, killed in a shocking, gruesome way, with uncomfortable detail put on how the pregnant woman probably died slowly and was eaten alive, ripped to shreds by eagles... for Clear Sky's man pain. Clear Sky literally fucking broods in a moonbeam. All because Gray Wing tripped like an idiot in a horror movie. And it was a WASTE. Bright Stream IS INTERESTING ALL ON HER OWN. Gray Wing was downplaying Clear Sky emotionally pressuring her into leaving, dismissing him going "I HOPE YOUR HUNTING SUCKS SO YOU REALIZE YOU SHOULD FOLLOW ME" with a 'good humored flick of his tail,' thirsting over how attractive Bright Stream is and how lucky Clear Sky is to have her as a mate while Bright Stream is obviously feeling upset about how her shitty husband has been talking to her. And it's actually insulting how the writers never acknowledged this-- that Clear Sky has ALWAYS been manipulative. From BOOK ONE. And then she has these absolutely bizarre Angel Fetus Children that Gray Wing coos about on his death bed, because god for-fucking-bid a single scene go by that doesn't become Clear Sky-centric.

Snake This arc tries SO bad to make this fucking guy a villain. SO hard. They describe his stinky breath and his bad teeth and how icky and gross he is, and they make him kill Frost during Clear Sky's Murder Party as if I'm supposed to blame HIM instead of the ESTABLISHED MURDERER WHO ORDERED HIS MEN TO KILL EVERYONE. Then, they choose HIM to stand up against Clear Sky after he let a murderous evil tyrant into his group against all warnings. And they treat that like it's a bad thing. Like SNAKE is the one who's awful for TELLING CLEAR SKY TO SHOVE HIS HALFHEARTED APOLOGY UP HIS UGLY ASS They even make him follow One Eye's evil lackey in the next book, like they're trying to slander him in hindsight. "Oh nonono, ackshually, Snake wasn't principled at all. He wasn't making a point about how Clear Sky let One Eye into his group and that he's sick of following tyrants. DONT WORRY. THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO DON'T LIKE CLEAR SKY ARE EVIL :)" FUCK you. I'm going to stan Snake OUT OF SPITE.

Tall Shadow While I still can't stand what they did with her and Bumble... she's an interesting character and done SO DIRTY because the writers don't fucking respect women at all They chose to have her go through a "self-confidence arc" because everyone nonsensically HATES her and just wants Gray Wing to lead, where she has to choose taking care of her burn-victim brother over leading because her "emotions" are getting in the way, only to clear up once her family is fucking dead because the books KEEP INSISTING that women in particular can't be leaders if they have an important emotional connection. And THEN they have Shaded-fucking-Moss, her predecessor, descend from heaven after Clear Sky's Murder Party to tut-tut at her for killing someone after she was THROWN INTO A CROWD OF PEOPLE TRYING TO MURDER HER, because I'm DEAD serious, god forbid women do anything. Clear Sky's got a direct body count of 3 at this point, PLUS the indirect body count of a dozen people killed on his orders, but ACTUALLY Tall Shadow is the one who deserves the fucking scolding. INSANE. And YET. She remains a practical person. She's diplomatic when she can be, and harsh when she cannot. Against all common sense, she LISTENS to Gray Wing's AWFUL advice to do Just One More peaceful meeting where maybe THIS time sucking Clear Sky's toes will work, because she is fair. I cannot help but love her.

Milkweed I haven't gotten to her in my read-along yet but she's done so dirty, too. It makes me sick. She's revealed to be a friend of Misty and distrusts the Mountain Cats for, you know... stealing all the native cats' land and murdering her friend? But don't worry, Gray Wing's here to do Clear Sky Apologetics and convince her to go join his group. While there she gets verbally accosted by Leaf, a recurring background asshole, who says she's useless, her stupid babies are stealing his food, and that when she gets sick she's just keeping the whole camp awake with her coughing. So anyway, because the Erins LOVE domestic abuse, they get shipped together lmaoo. Normal book series.

Bumble, Bright Stream, Snake, Tall Shadow, Milkweed. I also have feelings about Wind Runner though, and what they did with her. But GOD, explaining my complicated thoughts on Wind Runner would take a long time. She is both a favorite and also a symbol of several huge problems in WC.

#Dotc hate #warrior cats analysis #bone babble

[faceofpoe]

"Don't make the same mistake twice."

Because I am fully in camp 'Clone Operative dude is someone devastating under that helmet' do not clown us all on this writers and a spiteful at condescending assholes on Reddit hopeful part of me just really wants it to somehow be (saveable) Tech so we can have a reunited-for-one-last-fight-full-Batch-back-together finale-

The narrative argument for somehow-Tech-returned:

(also see: my (much shorter) narrative contemplation for Cody)

I have a sneaking suspicion that our character development focus is going to shift from Crosshair to Hunter for the back half of the season. Crosshair feels a bit... done? He chose Omega over the easy out on Lau, he's owned up to making mistakes, embraced his place among the squad again ("much worse" than Hunter - lol), he's had his faceoff/heart-to-heart/mutual saving each other rapid progression with Howzer - yeah I imagine there are still things we're going to learn about what he went through/possible ramifications therein, but as far as accepting who he is/his place/etc I think we're winding down on his focus.

Bringing our attention to the end of ep 7 and Rex & Hunter's convo about walking away, and his convo at the end of s2 with Echo about an unwinnable fight and so on. He just wants to protect his squad but the walls are closing in, and Omega won't be content just running and hiding.

And this brings me to the end of season 1 and Crosshair's rather lacking motivational speech about why they should join the Empire finally - they're meant for more than wandering aimlessly as fugitives, etc, and he tells Hunter - "Don't make the same mistake twice."

Now in s3e5, in what felt like the galaxy's most unfinished conversation ever, Hunter tells Crosshair he has "regrets" - but what exactly are they?

Fleeing Kamino in Aftermath, presumably not.

But the number of times in season 1 when he's given the opening to revisit the whole "leaving our own behind" thing and just - doesn't? Everyone else starts in on the "wait maybe the whole thing was the chip?' convo in ep 3 and he shuts it down to focus on the crisis at hand. He later says he's mad at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega says they'll find a way to get him back and he nods but - I don't think the notion is ever revisited?

Rex emphasizes how the chips are impossible to resist.

They *see* what it does to Wrecker.

Howzer refuses to flee Ryloth with them because he won't abandon his squad - knows they're good men, hopes he can convince them that they're not doing the right thing. We get a brief contemplative look at that, and the look back at Crosshair after they flee but.

After Kamino and after Bracca, sure, maybe the risk of even trying to get to him would seem too high - but we never even get a conversation about it, about finding a way to recover Crosshair and get the chip out now that they know how to do it.

He's also the most skeptical one about the Plan 88 message even after a presumably decent chunk of time has passed, after he knows the chip is gone, after Crosshair saved Omega on Kamino.

So - thesis, please - my narrative argument for wintersoldier'ified-Tech isn't about very mean visual teases callbacks, and it's not about undoing Tech's sacrifice or carving out room for a Tech redemption arc (because we wouldn't need it) (seriously this one baffles me, what?) -

It's about Hunter getting the chance to not make the same (actual) mistake twice, writing off one of his squad as a lost cause and leaving them behind.

(I'm also still really hung up on meeting Phee on the line "Better late than dead" but that's a different conversation)

Thank you for coming to my Tech talk.

#help we're entering 'poe left unattended with tbb' territory that's traditionally been reserved for andor #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch #bad batch spoilers #look I can't fathom how dude could have survived there was literally a whole cable car falling on top of him #but like #this fucking show lol #this is the part where someone is going to point out a very obvious conversation I've forgotten about that discounts everything I just said #but until then #lol

[tremastersweb]

(OOC: I'm putting this under a read more, bcs it's long. S o r r y the Doctor thinks a l o t)

Like Alice, the Doctor always tried to believe three impossible things before breakfast.

The first, an immovable statement in his daily practice, was that good would always pervail. The impossibility was in the word "always". Still, it kept him going - the Universe had kindness in it, in spite of the numerous heart wrenching displays of cruelty he had gotten well accustomed with in his travels. There were trillions of marvels to smile about, such as people who had lost it all, in the direst of situations, spreading hope within their little found communities with the sweetest of gestures. He had seen it countless times, in fact he had participated. A single spark could often cause a chain reaction, if people's hearts were in the right place.

Right, that's the start of a smile. He incorporated from the wooden floor he unfortunately had fallen asleep at, after who knows how many days of sleep deprivation, supporting himself on the old console. He stared at the screen, he had managed to rearrange the TARDIS' architectural configuration almost in its entirety. The radar was still somewhat unreliable, yet it informed him that everyone was alive and, in fact, in this dimension. He didn't want to risk anyone becoming trapped in time, completely disintegrating, or worse.

Loss.

He wondered what had been of the people he had met on Gallifrey, his friends, his colleagues, his family. If the war had devastated the planet in its entirety... the odds of survival were grim. He chose to believe, for his second impossibility, that, somehow, at least some of them escaped, just like Vera, that they'd be safe, that...

He took a deep breath and shook his head. He didn't need to question it, or think it too much, just believe it. If he hoped hard enough, perhaps it would come true, besides, there wasn't much he could do, not at the moment. He examined the TARDIS' status. She seemed to be feeling better, the source of this improvement was unknown to him, but her energy was evenly distributed now save for the excess in the main console room. Hopefully that meant that most of the damage had been undone, that she was not suffering anymore, but he'd only make sure once he could take a look at the main console. The Doctor hadn't heard any more drumming, so he deducted the Master must have stopped messing with them. Perhaps, only perhaps, they had helped him attend to reason... he swallowed, tension fast returning to his body. He wrote a few more lines of code, making sure the design was stable, protected, not easily disrupted by the Master, and let go of the console. He drew a map on an old sheet of paper, it would be rather tragic to get lost with the correct arrangement.

He started walking towards the main console room, the image of the Master attacking him invading his mind, then Vera, oh Vera, yes the Magister was with her, so she should be safe... He was aware of the reassuring effect his presence had on her, and that he truly, deeply cared about her. The Magister would never let her get hurt if it was in his power, and he seemed rather determined before he left. He had shown her compassion, offered her protection, and demonstrated genuine, loving amiability, qualities he had long thought gone on him, and yet...

The third impossible thing he would attempt to believe in today was that, despite it all, the Master still had this part in him, that it could be recovered if nurtured enough. That, perhaps, he could for once, truly help him.

The shy smile that had formed on his face twitched, as he struggled to believe. Not too long after, he arrived at some familiar corridors. Yes, that was A- ...That room, and the kitchen was nearby. He peeked inside, noticing a familiar silhouette.

"...Magister, is that you?"

#ooc: SORRY I ENDED UP WRITING AN ENTIRE PROLOGUE LMFAO #from old drafts I had. actually. #5th doctor rp #the year that never was

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being the Nonbinary (Second) Youngest Pritchett Sibling

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): The Pritchett-Tucker-Dunphy family x nonbinary!reader (platonic/familial)

Warnings: Descriptions of coming out and canon-typical ‘not understanding the queers’. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I haven’t watched all of Modern Family yet, though I’ve seen up until season 8 and the occasional later episode. This is highly self-indulgent, and I’ll probably end up writing some more fics based on this premise; feel free to request them!)

Growing up, there may have been signs that you were a little ‘different’; maybe not.

If there were, Jay chose to ignore it.

Some suspicion would only arise after Mitch’s coming out(s).

Whenever you realised you were nonbinary, I imagine that the first of your family members who you would come out to would be Mitch, who would, in his own repressed way, support you in any way he could.

I don’t know if Claire would necessarily understand, but she’d still be supportive.

When you come out to your parents, they’re both confused, but Dede is immediately accepting and supportive (and Jay always insists that it was just to spite him).

On the other hand, Jay... well, he isn’t cruel or dismissive or anything. 

He just doesn’t get it.

But, you’re his kid- his baby- and he doesn’t want to lose you because he doesn’t understand.

So, he’ll go along with it and try calling you what you wanna be called.

Keep the peace, y’know?

And, he’ll screw up.

At first, part of him will feel like you, or anyone else who corrects him, are being overly pedantic, but he’ll grit his teeth and concede to avoid any conflict.

It’ll take him years and several lectures from Mitchell and Gloria for Jay to realise how important it is for him to try his best to understand you, or at the very least get it right as much as he can.

And, when he does, he’ll make sure to let you know that you have his full support, and he’s sorry that he couldn’t let you feel that sooner.

Gloria has always supported you.

Like your mother, her acceptance of you was immediate, and this time Jay couldn’t claim it was to spite him.

She wants the best for you and your relationship with your dad, so she will try her best to get him to support you rather than just tolerate you because he loves you.

Like Claire and Mitchell, she corrects him when he gets things wrong.

She’ll be happy to take you shopping for gender-affirming clothes.

And, she’ll be happy to listen if you ever need it.

Manny’s a mature and sensitive kid, so I feel like he’d mostly understand your gender when it’s first explained to him.

He’s never afraid to ask questions, though he’ll always do it out of curiosity, not judgement.

Phil, Claire and their kids all respect you.

Claire will always correct your dad when he gets things wrong.

I imagine that Phil is especially supportive and will happily refer to you as his ‘sibling-in-law’.

When Claire told him about your gender, I feel like he probably looked it up and, with a lot of research, grew to understand you as much as a cis guy ever could.

Haley and Luke probably don’t completely get it at first, but they’ll both try their best.

Alex is probably the Dunphy who understands it the most (and she probably thinks that being nonbinary is really kickass).

If anyone in her family needs any clarification on anything (it’s typically her siblings), she’ll be the first to explain things.

I feel like she’s very supportive of and knowledgeable about trans and nonbinary people and the issues they face (just between you and me, I headcanon Alex as queer, so that’s probably why).

Your chief supporters in your family are Mitch and Cam.

Whenever you need to vent about things that the rest of your family just won’t get, they’re always happy to lend a listening ear, especially Cam.

Although Mitchell cares so much about you, he struggles to be as openly loving and kind as Cam.

Cam will probably be the one who urges Mitch to speak to Jay on your behalf about how his behaviour affects you.

If you ever get any gender-affirming medical treatment, they’ll volunteer to go with you to appointments.

They’d also introduce you to their queer friends, if that’s something you want.

It may take some time, but you’ll get to feel like an accepted and supported member of your family in the end, because even if some of them don’t get it, they’ll try their best to make you feel affirmed.

#modern family x reader #modern family #jay pritchett #gloria delgado-pritchett #claire dunphy #phil dunphy #mitchell pritchett #cam tucker #manny delgado #alex dunphy #haley dunphy #luke dunphy #x reader #x nonbinary reader #x nonbinary!reader #x enby reader #x enby!reader #nonbinary #enby #platonic

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles - part II: reunion

(~3,4 k words) // part I here // au masterpost here --

After being left out in the open, weakened and alone, without supplies or his cloak, wings on full bright display, Grian… isn’t doing so well. 

He barely survived the attack. He scrambled so much to defend himself. He used the arrow (the one that was once buried in his thigh; the one he kept because it was sharp-edged and better than nothing). There was so much blood. It was all so horrible. 

Now he finds himself alone and cold and terrified, bleeding. Everything hurts and he doesn’t know where Scar is—

Where is Scar? 

... Did Scar leave him?

Scar wouldn’t leave him, right? (He doesn’t want to believe it. But the possibility that Scar might be in danger, somewhere far away from Grian, is absolutely dreadful.) 

The camp is empty when Grian stumbles back into it, and the ribbon is gone, and— Maybe Scar did replace him, after all? Got rid of the burden of Grian’s violet wings, chose the path of least resistance, opted for survival instead of trying to constantly fight against Grian’s doomed fate?

Grian is so scared and confused. Worried sick too, but he feels abandoned and doesn’t know where to go. He misses that fabric on his wrist. He feels so so alone. 

He tries waiting, for a while. But it’s dangerous to stay put and, eventually, he’s forced to move. And it almost feels familiar, in some awful way—it’s as if he was plunged back into his first week in this world. Hostile and cruel and nightmarish, with no reprieve, no kindness, no gentleness. No warmth to curl against, no hands to hold him steady, no safety net beneath his wobbly feet. Except he’s worn down by months in this world. And it’s colder now. And on top of that, he’s already wounded horribly.

He scrambles from place to place, leaving a trail of blood that he’s sure someone can trace. He tries so hard to hide himself, to lose any potential pursuers, but—

But a part of him wants to leave a trace. A part of him keeps hopelessly wishing that Scar might be out there, looking for him.

As days pass, that seems less and less likely.

Grian barely sleeps, reverting to old habits of wings pressed tightly against harsh surfaces in an attempt to hide them, surrendering the very much needed warmth they could provide if only he wrapped them around himself instead. He shivers, exhaustedly alert to every little sound. Dizzy and hurting and terrified.

He’s got nothing left now. Being with Scar feels like less of a memory and more of a fever dream. He's so sure it’ll now forever be this: him, lost alone in this vast forest, running until he can’t anymore. It will be the cold, or the hunger, injuries, or the hunters—something will inevitably bring him down, soon.

He misses Scar.

He hopes Scar is okay.

(He tries not to think about how he wishes this would all just end.) (He tries not to sink too much into exhausted, hopeless despair.) (He tries to dredge up his pesky resistance, any sort of spite against fate that could fuel him to just keep going, keep surviving.)

It’s a harsh week. He gets into more fights, each of them bleak and panic-filled and horrible. (A lot of the scars he later has—including the one on his face—come from this week spent alone.) He’s so, so tired. It all hurts. He’s scared.

When it happens, he’s curled up, hurt and bruised, face dirty and bloodied, body shaking from the cold, stomach twisted with hunger. All of a sudden he jolts, thinking he heard something distant that sounded like Scar’s voice. And he doesn’t know if he’s imagining things, because at this point that seems more likely than this being real, but he still can’t help himself as something urgent swells in him, begging him to reply, to call back.

He tries to call for Scar, but his voice falters and fails. His throat is so dry. He hasn’t made a sound in days.

Scar’s voice moves further away and Grian panics. He scrambles, unfurling his sore wings. Everything aches, his balance is off, but he tries to get up anyway. Desperate, he lets out a cry—a loud, sob-like sound, the only one still willing to wrangle itself from his throat. 

And then he does something he hasn’t done in months: he spreads his wings further, and he tries to fly.

The branches are thick, and Grian’s wings don’t really carry him, and in his blind desperation, he quickly crashes against a tree. His wing spikes with pain and he tumbles harshly to the ground, but he doesn’t pay it any attention.

Panicked desperation keeps flooding his veins as he’s sprawled on the forest floor, his own body not listening to him as his lungs edge hyperventillation. Because— Because Scar was there but he was moving away and Grian couldn’t follow and he’s— he’s—

He’s just going to die here, isn’t he?

The trees rustle. There’s a loud noise Grian can’t quite decipher, but it doesn’t matter.

All that registers is danger. 

Danger danger danger danger

It’s only ever been those horrible creatures. Nothing good approaches from the sky here. Grian’s made too much noise, and now they’ve found him, and he can’t fight, not anymore, not again, please—

A series of panicked, frantic chirps spills out of him on nothing but blind instinct as he tries to back away, press against something, flatten against the ground, anything.

His wings are bright. He doesn’t have a cloak. He can’t hide. He can't run.

He doesn't stand a chance.

He can’t do anything as the source of danger swoops down on him.

---

When Scar left Juni, he was a mess of conflicted emotions, the hurt and betrayal fresh and wildly flaring. But as he keeps moving, those emotions get overrun by others that spread through him like a wildfire: the rage, the desperation, the fear.

He doesn’t know where to go. 

He doesn’t know if Grian’e even alive.

With heart torn to pieces in his chest and nothing but feeble, foolish hope—and an insane amount of blind recklessness—he clutches the ribbon, spreads out his tattered wings, and leaps up, scaling the trees to get as high as he can. The morning light is soft, pale and gentle, interspersed with fog that obscures everything further in a cottony haze. 

Scar’s wings struggle to carry him, but he doesn’t care. He needs to go. He needs to go, and this is the fastest way, and—

He’d do anything right now. Anything to find Grian.

Desperately, he tries to feel the tug of their connection; the dark fabric of the ribbon prickles against his grip in silent accusation and Scar begs it to lead him. Yet there’s nothing to help him pick a direction; he simply scrambles in whichever way feels right. 

He hollers. It’s not a word, just a cry. A call. 

He really shouldn’t be loud, shouldn’t heedlessly drag attention to himself, but he doesn’t care what he attracts. The only thing that matters is that he also attracts Grian.

It feels futile. The world is vast and Scar doesn’t even know which direction him and Juni took, because he was continuously dosed with weakness. He doesn’t know how to get back to where he saw Grian last. (Days ago—) 

He flies and glides and leaps, yelling, heart feeling like it’s going to explode in his chest. 

And then he hears it.

A sob. A wretchedly (wonderfully) familiar sob.

His ears twitch rapidly, latching onto that. His whole body whips backwards midair, almost making him tumble completely. Frantically, in a haze of vex magic that edges on feral, he delves in the direction where he heard it.

He knows he’s near when his ears flick, catching another sound. Terrified little chirps.

He makes his way down through the trees. Down the branches. Down towards his avian.

---

Grian’s panic breaks the moment he catches sight of those bright spectral wings. Broken. So broken. Tattered and frantic. 

Scar is made of sharp claws and fangs and wisps of pale blue magic. He looks like a monster ready to pounce. He looks absolutely nightmarish and terrifying.

Grian’s never been more relieved in his life.

He scrambles forwards. He’s on his hands and knees and his wing throbs and his face is wounded and none of it matters. Scar rushes to meet him, his wings fading before he’s even on the ground, and he practically falls into an embrace. (His claws stay pressed to his palms, careful, so careful. His tail wraps around them as he holds on, holds on, never wanting to let go again.)

They both cling tightly and cry. Grian’s making garbled noises, as if he was trying to say things, but he’s crying too hard to be coherent; he just paws at Scar and clings and burrows into the comforting safety of his arms. (He thought Scar left him.) (He thought Scar got captured.) (He thought Scar was dead.)

Feeling the shivers and cold skin, Scar scrambles to wrap the cloak around Grian, noticing the limp wing in the process. (His heart hurts.)

The familiar weight of the cloak provides such a small but important sense of security. Grian tucks his wings underneath it, even though it hurts, one of the wings twitching and moving wrong. He hisses in pain, but it gets swallowed up by his sobs and crying.

Amidst it all, Scar isn’t doing well—he only just got clear headed from that constant dose of weakness and he’s just majorly overused his magic, slamming into trees as he glided recklessly—but he has to keep pushing through, keep using his magic to be able to function right now, because Grian is the priority here and Scar won’t rest until he knows Grian is safe.

Here isn’t safe. They’re out in the open, after making loads of noise. And— Grian’s hurt. He’s bleeding. It’s so clear that something happened and Scar wasn’t there and— He can’t bear it, can't forgive himself. 

Grian looks so cold and small and scared. And even though Scar was dosed with weakness potions, at least he was fed and kept warm. At least he was carefully steered away from danger and into shelters, left to rest. At least he wasn’t alone, terrified out of his mind for his life. 

Grian didn’t have any of those luxuries. And there’s no way Scar can undo any of it. 

Now Grian presses close to him, desperate to have him be here and be real. Through the crying, something desperate comes through—something that sounds like “Please don’t leave me again.” 

With a hitched breath and a heart torn to absolute pieces in his chest, Scar shakes his head. He’s choking on sobs as he babbles, “Never, no no no no, never, never—” Urgently, he tucks the ribbon back into Grian’s hands.

Grian thought he lost it forever. He immediately clings to it, in such a desperate, urgent gesture. Needing to feel it in his grasp, to tell himself that it wasn't lost, that its connection persists. That it still belongs to him. (The ribbon and Scar's heart alike—)

“Yours, yours yours yours.” Scar, too, means more than just the ribbon.

Grian cries so hard he can’t breathe. He’s holding onto the ribbon and pressing himself against Scar and— he’s loud. His sobs carry. He can’t get them under control; it’s just so so raw.

With shaking hands, Scar tries to tie the ribbon around Grian’s wrist, where it belongs. He’s shaking too much, he’s struggling. (Trying to ignore the bruising he sees there. As if someone tried to pin Grian down by his wrist—) He’s babbling incoherently through it all, the words that  tumble out of him both reassurances and apologies, repeating that he’s here, he’s here, he’s so sorry. Once he manages to get the ribbon tied, his words stumble through “This is yours, always yours, I’m yours, I’m sorry—”

Grian  has no words beyond Scar’s name.

In all of this, Scar’s feeling weird. He wants to scoop Grian up and never let go, but he’s a little afraid of his claws— a little afraid of himself, really. This has never happened quite like this, with the surge of vex magic that borders on feral. He is lucid but off. He still feels a bit like he’s spinning. This is real, right? It’s real?

A frightened squeeze to Grian’s hands is reciprocated with a squeeze back and a whimper. Scar makes a quick decision to pull Grian up, to lift him and hold  him tight. (He feels so urgent and needy, desperate and afraid that Grian is going to slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.) He tries not to be rough, but he still feels only barely in control of his own body. And despite the bruises and wounds that litter Grian’s body—despite everything hurting—Grian barely makes a sound of pain, instead tucking himself closely to Scar. Relieved to be held, to feel him so near. Trusting him fully with himself.

Securely holding Grian, Scar breaks into a run. His ears twitch, catching sounds of the forest as he tries to avoid them all. It’s chaotic. It’s all a bit of a blur. He keeps slurring more nonsense to Grian: “Sorry, safe, safe, never again, sorry.” Something broken about “love”. 

Once Scar finds a semi-safe place, he kneels down, but he’s hesitant to let Grian go. Everything feels weird and light and he’s terrified it’s a dream he’s waking up from.

Grian isn’t any better, though; he keeps clinging to him, too. Scar was gone for so long and now he’s randomly back? He can’t quite process it; all that he knows is that he’s terrified to let go. (He remembers feeling woozy on weakness potions, and he remembers the deep pit of the fever from that arrow wound way back, and... This feels similar. Like maybe he’s not quite aware, not quite getting things right. Maybe— Maybe Scar isn’t here?) 

 Grian begs Scar to stay. (He feels like he’s asked that of him before, but it’s hazy in his exhausted mind.)

Scar can feel himself falling from the high of his magic; he feels weak again, confused, distant. But he latches onto that. “I’m not leaving,” he says, suddenly so clear. “He— he tricked me…” his voice wobbles. He feels awful, like a failure. He doesn’t want to think of the mimic ever again. He’s terrified to as well. The fact that he didn’t kill him means he could return—

Grian feels such a tangled mess at that admission. He wonders if Scar felt better with Juni? It took so long for him to realise and go looking for Grian, maybe he was better off with the fake one? It's so... it's so horrible to think that Scar took this long to realise Grian wasn't with him.

Scar still hasn’t let him down, instead falling to his knees entirely and cradling Grian close. He doesn’t want to admit how hard he fell for the trick. He hates himself for it. What if he didn’t find Grian? 

His skin feels prickly and odd like his whole body has fallen asleep. He’s numb and weak and heavy and— Is he drugged again? 

He wants to provide so many answers but— His skin is pulsing an off whitish blue. And he just croaks, “S–something’s wrong. I don’t feel— Grian. I don’t feel good.”

That singular admission throws Grian into sharp focus, panicked. He ignores his bruises and aches and the cold and tiredness, the wooziness from hunger and thirst—all of it. Instead, he whips to attention, looking Scar over. Trying to get him to tell Grian what’s wrong. (Obviously the colour is wrong—Scar’s not meant to pulsate with magic hue like this. But Grian doesn’t understand it. He’s never seen it. He’s— He’s so scared that this is something he won’t be able to help with, won’t be able to fix.)

Instead of a constructive answer, Scar stammers, slurred: “Did you— he— more potions?” He feels like he’s falling past some edge. His body won’t listen to him. His thoughts are turning fuzzy and staticky and he’s sick to his stomach, thinking about weakness potions.

Grian’s holding his cheeks, trying to keep eye contact. He doesn’t think a potion could do this. He pleads with Scar to tell him what does he need. How can he help?

The genuine concern from Grian horribly reminds Scar of the mimic. The nausea churns in his stomach, acidic, and he feels painfully helpless in this moment as everything seems to slip past his fingers. “Please be real?” 

Grian makes a miserable sound, edging a startled sob. Something aborted and strained. His thumbs brush over Scar’s skin and he leans in. “I’m real,” he promises weakly, desperately, sealing it with a soft kiss to Scar’s cheek. And then another one to his temple, and his eyebrow, and his forehead. A swelling build up of helpless heartache translates to hot tears dripping down Grian’s face. “I’m here. You found me. I’m here.” 

The tenderness, as well as the easy forwardness of the affection help reassure Scar. Juni wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He never did. (Maybe Scar should’ve realised sooner—)

Grian’s fingers brush over Scar’s cheeks. His touch is featherlight, gentle, as if he was worried Scar will break underneath his fingertips. (Scar’s skin still pulsates, a sickly hue that reminds Grian of those awful, rotting vines they found in a cave so many months ago.) (He doesn’t know what’s wrong with Scar and it terrifies him.) His breath hitches, and then he finds himself saying, “Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracks. It’s so awful.

The words snap Scar to attention—as much as he can currently manage. “God— No. No, not leaving.” The flickering hue of magic across Scar's skin speeds up, like a panicky heartbeat stuttering out of rhythm.

The change frightens Grian and he scrambles to make things better, in any way he can. He thinks maybe they need to stop panicking first. Maybe— Maybe they both just need to take a deep breath. Surely they could both benefit from some proper breathing.

He suggests just that, and it does help somewhat. The flickering slows and steadies and almost fades, and Grian moves to pepper Scar’s face with soft kisses, tiny and light and greedy. And wet. Because he can't seem to stop crying.

Grian’s own cheek throbs with his unhealed wound, but he doesn’t pay it any attention. He just needs— He needs Scar to be okay, and he needs him to be right here with him, and he needs both of them to believe that this is real.

With deliberation, he moves his hands to brush them over Scar’s ears, knowing full well how sensitive they are. Remembering Scar’s flush, that very first time, and the way his ears twitched underneath Grian’s touch. A weak, destabilised chuckle precedes his strained words, ready to break. “Remember when I did this before?”

Scar barks out a little laugh at that. And… it helps. It helps to hear Grian bringing up a private, intimate memory they both share. 

And then all of a sudden, he’s begging for forgiveness. “I messed up. I’d… I’d never leave you, Grian.” Even with a leaden, exhausted body, he pulls together enough strength to graze his fingers over the wound on Grian’s face, his touch gentle and sad. 

Grian falls quiet for a moment, breaths still tripping in his throat, coming out shaky. “I thought— I thought you—” He can’t say it.

“Never.”

Exhaling, Grian falls against Scar. He curls up and presses into the crook of his neck.

Scar still feels tingly and strange and light, but it’s almost pleasant now. Like he could pretend it’s from Grian and not overextertion. Like it’s just silly nerves. And even though he wants nothing more but to collapse, to curl up with Grian in his arms and drift off to sleep, he can’t. He can’t have that.

Because Grian’s wounded, and hungry, and so horribly exhausted, and Scar needs to patch him up and grant him some safety. He needs to try to clean Grian’s wounds. (On next to no supplies.) He needs to get him to eat something. (He doesn’t have anything to offer; he fled Juni so fast, unable to think past Grian might be dying right now.) He needs to let Grian rest, after a week of horror; he needs to take watch and let Grian sleep. (He’s so, so tired, the magic overuse weighing him down in a way that makes him almost certain he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.)

This feels familiarly miserable.

But Grian isn’t dying.

He isn’t dying, and Scar found him, and they’re together. And he won’t let anything separate them ever again.

(But he might not have a choice.)

#hhau #ange rambles #ange writes #i borrowed a lot of link's words for scar's bits <3 #credit where credit's due #scarian #these rambles were long overdue #this was meant to be only like #half of the stuff #but i got carried away with details and it got too long #so there will be part THREE that is the aftermath of this disaster #and i'll also separate the bit about what happened to our li'l mimic friend #(friend might be a questionable word to use) #dw about that ending #that's not relevant to the mimic arc at all #>:3c hehe

[bestworstcase]

Hello and good day. I hope that this isn't too much to ask, but what are your thoughts about Adam? It has always been my belief that Adam and Yang are mirrors to each other. Well, Adam has a lot of things to connect with Team RWBY, moreso with Yang, I think. Just wanted to hear your thoughts about Adam, I guess. Thank you.

i rattle him around in my brain from time to time. a lunar eclipse. he and yang are absolutely character foils; power vs strength, cruelty vs compassion, spite vs love, revenge vs justice. he refuses to control his temper, yang is defined by her meticulous control over her anger. moonslice and burn are almost the exact same semblance, even. a dark mirror.

he’s also doing… something… thematically salient to summer rose. which is what i’m picking over in that linked post. i’m not sure what it is yet but the setup is pretty evident.

tbh i think the narrative is far more sympathetic to him than most of the fandom cares to admit. the triumph and vindication burns bright when adam realizes he’s lost in V5 and runs away—that’s the moment where the narrative framing is like “fuck yeah, the bastard got what he deserved.” but when he dies? there’s just exhaustion, pain, and relief that yang and blake survived. it’s not played as a proud or happy moment. it just sucks so much that they had to go through this ordeal and it’s pitiable that he chose to waste his life on this. blake breaks down crying and all she and yang can do for a moment is cling to each other.

like. -> “there’s no cause to celebrate/another soul consumed by hate and spite/another destroyed life/there’s no pleasure, there’s no joy/it’s just the story of a boy who lost his way/into shadows strayed/he’ll see the light of day/nevermore”

he chose over and over and over again to be cruel, letting his anger rule him. chose to be vindictive, chose to pursue vengeance over justice. chose to hurt people. every time he was offered an out, he refused to take it and brutally punished the people who gave him second chances. sienna, blake, yang. in the end, he left blake and yang with no other choice but to kill him before he killed them. but… the narrative still mourns the person he could have been, if he’d made better choices, if the world had been kinder to him.

there is no question that blake and yang made the right call. they did everything they possibly could to avoid killing him, and they had every right to defend themselves when he refused to stop.

BUT,

it’s sad that they were forced to do that. it still weighs on blake’s conscience as a terrible ordeal and a choice she never wants to have to make again. because killing another person—no matter the circumstances—is horribly traumatizing. and that’s why the narrative refuses to frame his death as a triumphant moment. (the same thing happens with jacques’ murder in V8: it’s sudden and shocking and unjust and there is zero satisfaction in watching him die. and it’s terribly unfair to weiss, who specifically chose not to leave him to die. rwby is a story where every life matters and every death is sad.)

great character. the final battle between him and blake/yang is done really well and one of my favorite fights in the show mostly bc it brings the foiling between him and yang into really sharp focus. “what does she even see in you?” is such a raw fucking line because the things blake sees in yang are exactly the things she once saw in adam: he’s so consumed by his obsession his vengeance his spiteful rage, he’s strayed so far from the person he was that he can’t even recognize her when she’s staring him in the face.

i do think that when adam was 16-17 at the very start of his character short, he was genuinely a lot like yang. angrier and more aggressive, because his mentor encouraged him to be that way, but i think his ideals were true and his commitment to the cause of his people was genuine.

he was only a kid the first time he killed someone—sixteen, seventeen, about the right age to be enrolling in one of the huntsmen academies. and i truly do not think he meant to kill that man; he saw a dangerous person running towards his already-wounded leader with a gun and reacted. and this?

this is a lot.

no matter the circumstances, killing another person is traumatizing. after this happens, adam slowly straightens up and sheathes his weapon, then just stands there frozen, staring at the body, until the other assailants make noise and he startles. his face falls when ghira says “that wasn’t necessary.” he’s slow to turn around, but he does, and he listens quietly to what ghira has to say to him. he didn’t mean to. he can’t be older than seventeen. he is in shock—he doesn’t know how to react, how to feel, and like any teenager would, he looks to trusted adults for guidance. (much like yang looks to ironwood and qrow after she hurts someone by mistake.) ghira starts to scold him (not ideal), but sienna cuts him off and calls adam a hero, and then everybody starts to fucking cheer; “that was amazing!!”

this moment, while adam was reeling and unsure, this is when adam desperately needed to hear from an adult in the middle. ghira is right that using lethal force wasn’t necessary; sienna is also right that adam likely saved ghira’s life by taking action. what adam really needed to hear was “you were right to take action, but this man was not such a grave threat that he needed to die. why did you react the way you did?”—not to be scolded or lionized, but to be treated like a teenager who made a bad choice for a good reason and given support and understanding so that next time, he would know what to do better.

instead he got swamped with praise and the came away from this experience having learned that Killing Humans is Cool and Awesome and Heroic, Actually.

(i have a secondary thought here that the white fang’s fatal weakness—under both ghira and sienna—is treating children like adults. if adam had been an adult when this happened, he wouldn’t have been so dependent on his mentor and his leader to guide his reaction and an adult would be better equipped to hold “that wasn’t necessary” and “he saved your life” as non-contradictory ideas. similarly, ghira and kali respecting blake’s decision to stay with the now expressly militant white fang when they left sounds great until you remember that she was twelve years old at the time and then they didn’t contact her in any way for the next five years. it is… probably not a coincidence that adam’s splinter group skews young.

not that teens can’t be good activists but good activism does require pragmatism and emotional maturity and an understanding of nuance, and if you throw a teenager into a high-stress organization where they’re involved in often-violent direct action and give them zero guidance beyond “here’s how to fight!” because they’re assumed to have adult-level maturity and critical reasoning, then… yeah, you’re going to end up with an extremism problem. the kids are not going to just magically know the difference between tactical violence and violent revenge.)

anyway, i really like his character short. i think the narrative is very sympathetic to the boy he used to be and the thread of sienna inadvertently enabling and reinforcing his violent tendencies is interesting. my sense is that in the beginning she sort of used adam to score a point against ghira in their clash of opinions over the direction of the white fang, and later made a habit of being overly indulgent with him and turning a blind eye to his excessive violence—like.

during the fight in the SDC building, sienna rips through the AKs just as ruthlessly as he does, but once the human security personnel arrive, her tactics immediately change. she uses her whip to snag a man’s gun and yank it out of his hands, flicks bullets away, disarms, trips, disarms, trips, disarms, trips. the only time she uses the bladed dart, it’s to disable her opponent’s weapon. meanwhile adam is hacking and slashing behind her. she stops him when he moves to kill an man who’s disarmed and on the ground. faced with living opponents, sienna holds back and fights strictly to disarm. adam is not like that, and she knows it and presumably doesn’t approve—she doesn’t kill anyone herself, and intervenes to stop him from killing—but it’s also clear that there were never like. Consequences. she never took him to task for crossing these lines. as his leader she had a responsibility to do so, but she kept letting it slide until it was too late.

(tbh i think the biggest disappointment i feel regarding her death is well never find out why she cut adam so much slack. did she want to believe he was better than that? had she known him for so long that her memories of what he was like as a teenager blinded her to the adult he was becoming? was it that she found him too useful or realized he was too popular to chastise, finding herself in the same trap she once sprung on ghira? did she, like blake, convince herself it was just “accidents” or “getting carried away” and ignore the warning signs that it was a deliberate pattern? was she like the albains, fully aware that he was dangerous and unstable but confident that she could control him? there’s so many possible reasons she might have had and i think it’s unfortunate that her motives and her side of the relationship didn’t get explored at all.)

also this is stupid and doesn’t matter really but he’s not a fucking bull 😭 those are goat horns. he’s a goat. A GOAT!!

[archiveikemen]

『 The Past Records 』 Collection Event: Chapter 3

Jude Jazza & Ellis Twilight

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Roger: Whatever I know?

Harrison: Or should I say, why didn't you tell us from the start that you knew the two of them since before they joined Crown?

Roger: Because no one asked.

Harrison: YOU…

Roger: Besides, it’s not as if I’m close friends with them.

Roger: I can’t say for certain whether they’re trustworthy or not.

Harrison: … Say, what kind of relationship did you have with them?

Roger: We’re just doctor and patient. Jude has a history of weak bronchi in his lungs.

Roger: My old man’s pretty good, so Jude occasionally went to his clinic for checkups.

Roger: When he was still his patient, we only knew each other by face…

Roger: There was one night where he came in for a knife stab wound. Instead of to my old man's clinic, he came to me.

Harrison: … Elaborate on the stabbing?

Roger: All I know is that he got stabbed out of spite.

– Flashback Start –

Jude: I got myself into this. Don’t ask any questions, I’m not answering any.

Roger: Oh really? Geez, you came to me instead of my old man just because you don’t want the news of your injury to be known to the public?

Jude: Don’t you want a lab rat to practise your medical skills on?

Jude: You can go ahead without a licence.

Jude: In return for that, you'll be quiet about treating me so that your father’s clinic’s reputation won’t be tarnished.

Roger: That benefits both of us. Sounds good to me.

Ellis: … Can you treat him, Roger?

Roger: Yeah, don’t worry about it. He’s a valuable test subject, I won’t let him die so easily.

Ellis: That’s good to hear. It’d be troublesome if he were to die now.

Roger: That’s some way to say it. Then when is a good time for him to die?

Ellis: At the happiest moment of his life… I guess?

Roger: Heh. Keep coming in with wounds like this one, and that moment will just get farther and farther away from him.

Jude: Tch, you stuck the needle in the wrong spot, you quack!

– Flashback End –

Harrison: … You were treating him before you became a licensed medical practitioner?

Roger: Haha. It’s way past the legal timeframe to prosecute me now.

Harrison: What else do you know?

Roger: Ah? Let me think… Jude’s an early bird, and Ellis can eat absolutely anything. That sort of information?

Harrison: Not that.

Roger: Jude can keep up with my drinking pace, but Ellis easily gets drunk.

Harrison: Not that either… I’m getting too much unnecessary profile information of two people stuffed into my head.

Roger: … I already mentioned earlier about their level of trustworthiness.

Roger: The two of them are hiding some things from me too. I heard that they’re involved in some sort of very expensive research project.

Roger: Well, even though their level of trustworthiness is still uncertain, I believe they wouldn't involve themselves in foolish matters.

Roger: Was that helpful?

Harrison: … More or less. At least you didn’t lie in any of the information you gave.

Roger: You’re welcome.

…

Liam: Found you!

Harrison: Mm, … Oh, it’s you. How did you know I’m here?

Liam: Will told me. You’re doing your proofreading work at a cafe?

Harrison: The stuff about the reports flood my mind when I’m at the castle, I need to catch a break from them.

Liam: Ahaha, so I’ll make you think about them again if I give you my report now?

Harrison: It’s fine. I was losing my focus anyway… and you intentionally chose this moment to approach me, didn't you?

Harrison: So, what is it?

Liam: Don’t mind if I do. Hmm, I’ll start with the information I got from Jude~

Liam: Did you know? Jude was enrolled into a public school! He got in through the recommendation of a doctor. Or was it a scholar?

Liam: Surprising, right? Being surrounded by so many children from aristocratic backgrounds must've been tough for him… I wish I could see that for myself.

Liam: Next up is what I heard from Ellis. He said that he didn’t go to school.

Liam: His father was a teacher at a church, but they’ve been separated for a long time.

Liam: … Ah, Ellis and I made plans to go ice skating by the lake too.

Harrison: Oh, that's good information. … How did you manage to talk to them? You’ve been out of the castle for the last two days.

Liam: I made myself invisible and tailed them, observed their every move and usual routes for a few days, then made sure that we'd meet “coincidentally”.

Harrison: … You went that far?

Liam: I just thought it’d make you happy. Also, it’s cat instinct to be curious, so my curiosity simply got the better of me.

Liam: I tailed them and spoke to them directly, but I still think it’s hard for me to say “I can trust them!” confidently.

Liam: I feel like… there’s something missing that's preventing me from making a solid decision.

Harrison: … That face. You’re up to something.

Liam: As expected from my partner in crime! You’re so quick to catch on.

Liam: Shall I put the two through a little test?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil collection event #ellis twilight #jude jazza

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Hi! I just finished reading #27 and I have all the feels about Rachel and Tobias. Could you give some of your excellent insight into their relationship?

I love them. So much. One thing that stands out to me in #27 is how much they sacrifice for each other. I'm not talking about the literal "I'd give my life for you" stuff, because honestly they're both the type to give up their lives for anyone. I'm talking more about the long-term stuff, the kind of life-changing sacrifice you have to make again and again every single day.

Rachel, more than anyone except maybe Marco, wants balance. She wants her life to still be there at the end of the war. She wants to go on dates, with "a ninety-minute movie, and pizza afterward" (#27). She wants "someone to hold my hand" (#13). She wants to have a life outside of the war, "college and stuff" (#7).

And Tobias lives in the war twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He wakes up with last night's blood still in his feathers, spends all day following controllers, beds down miles from civilization. He doesn't get to eat lunch across from Rachel like Jake and Cassie do. He chose, however indirectly, to give up every molecule of normal life during their first battle. And when the Ellimist gives him an out in #13, he chooses to go right back in.

And then Rachel chooses him. She chooses, again and again, to go for the "mouse-eating freak" who knows every part of an "unrepeatable word" like her (#27), and loves her anyway. This, even though she knows she's giving up her afternoons and her civilian friends and some of her chance to hold hands now or go to college later. Because she weighs her options, and knows that T.T. isn't right for her. He might be cute, he might be charming, but he's not what she needs.

What Tobias chooses to give up for Rachel is much the opposite, and much the same. He values the ability to "fly free" (#3), he values "being left alone" (#13), he values "you can't lock me up" and "I can't be pinned down" (#23) so much so that he's willing to give up beds and warm meals and all connection to humanity to achieve those things. Only Rachel keeps pulling him back. She's his kite string, ensuring that no matter how far he flies he'll never entirely lose sight of the ground, and he'll never be so free he's out of control. In #3, in #33, even in #54 after she's gone, she keeps pulling him back in, keeps getting him to care about humanity in spite of his own best interests.

That's part of why — much as I hate most classic romance tropes — a part of me really likes love triangles. Because they involve choice, and choosing one's true love from among viable options. If Rachel is actively choosing between Marco and Tobias (MM4), between Bailey and Tobias (#32), between T.T. and Tobias (#27), then she's actively choosing Tobias. If we get to see Tobias be less happy with Melissa (MM3), if Tobias wonders what it would be like to just be a hawk with a fellow hawk (#3), then he's actively choosing Rachel. They're not soul mates bound together by the narrative; they're fiercely independent young adults who have options, and yet they choose to sacrifice for each other.

#animorphs #animorphs spoilers #rachel berenson #tobias fangor #rachias #<= if that's their ship name #this is also why — much as parts of it don't age well — i'll forever love Grease #Danny changes for Sandy and so Sandy changes for Danny #they give up some of their friends' respect and some of their 'cool' and choose each other #they meet in the middle #Grease > all other rom coms