#fucking answer my goddamn prayers

[spacenightwing]

Person: “Did you hear about the shooting?”

Me: “Which one?”

How many times do Americans have to ask those two questions? I know it’s not the first time I’ve started a conversation like this, and I’d be willing to bet that every American reading this, regardless of which side of the debate you’re on, has too.

But honestly, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.

I was 17 when Sandy Hook happened.

I was 17 when I knew that people in power do not give a damn about anything except holding onto power and money.

I was 17 when this country decided that 20 children between the ages of six and seven killed inside their school was acceptable.

I was 17 when I knew that the only thing people holding the ability to change had to offer the rest of the us was thoughts and prayers - prayers to a god that this country is losing more and more faith in.

Now, almost 10 years later, what the has changed?

Absolutely fucking nothing.

Surprised? I’m not. Heartbroken and pissed off beyond belief. Not surprised.

And here’s the kicker: to have a conversation with me about this, you’d still have to ask me as to which shooting I’m referring too this week (hint: read the tags - they all piss me off but the point is there: The question of “which one?” is fucked up).

We gonna have to ask these questions again next week?

#buffalo shooting #black lives matter #texas shooting #sandy hook #school shootings #march for our lives #america has a gun problem #america has a racism problem #Uniquely American #we call bs #my stuff #im so fucking sick of this cycle of 'shock' 'thoughts and prayers' 'move onto normal life' 'wash and repeat' #I’m not gonna pretend like I know what the answer is I don’t #but goddamn it has to be better than this #which one?

[lily-lovelyy]

Distance

Warnings: age gap, pure smut, smut with no plot, sub!Konig, a bit of fluff at the end, fem! Reader, daddy kink, period!smut, somnophelia, ect.

Konig looked down to you, pupils blown out and breath heaving, breaking apart your heated kiss, he looked almost pitiful, you felt sorry for him, as you knew you would deny him sex since your goddamn period decided to visit right before he got home from his two month deployment.

"Ko..." You whispered, looking up at him, sympathy all over your face "Maus." He answered, caressing your cheek with his large hand. "I know how pent up you are, but we'll have to wait a few more days, maybe a week until we can do anything..." You told your husband. He looked confused, a little bit like a kicked puppy when you said this, his hand pulling away from you.

"I started my period yesterday, Konig." You sighed, grabbing his hand from him. "Maus...you know I don't care about a little blood..." He tilted his head sideways at you. Of course you knew this, he practically lived in blood on his missions. "Yes but it makes me nervous, let me just make you some tea, Ko." He sighed, to exhausted to negotiate with you and nodded, letting you seat him at the kitchen as you filled a pot with water.

~★★~~★★~

You felt a prod against your side, and looked over to your husband, your eyes heavy. "K-ko?" You whispered sleepily, not even realizing his cock was slid between your thighs, resting against your pussy. You gasped as he thrusted slightly, signaling he wanted inside. You whined and tried to pull away slightly, but to no avail as Konig grabbed your hips, keeping you in place as he moved his hips closer to you, the red tip of his cock moving against your oh so sensitive clit, causing you to whine.

You moaned as he whimpered in your ear, incoherent moans of "please" coming out of his mouth in his native tongue. You nodded, allowing him to slowly push into your weeping cunt, a gasp left your mouth, leaving your mouth gaping open as he filled you. "Ko-Koni-ah!" You cried out, grabbing onto his forearm, your clit already throbbing as the pad of his thumb pressed against it.

Konig was big, at least more than 7 inches, though you'd never measured. "Mmm maus." He whined, his hips slowly thrusting into you. Konig was embarrassed, he hadn't even been inside for you that long and he knew that shortly he would cum. Two months of only using his spit covered hand would do that to him.

"Maus!" He cried out as you climbed on top of him, slowly sinking back down onto his cock, his eyes widening and hands gripping your hips, the mental thought of you bleeding on him far away as you were already to fucked out to care. You whined, and bounced on his cock, going to quickly for Konig to keep up. "Maus, maus, if you keep going I'll c-cum already!" He moaned, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

You nodded as a grin sat on your lips, rolling your lips between your teeth. Bouncing even more feverishly now, Konig whined, grabbing your hips tighter, you knew you would bruise later. You gasped when Konig's finger made it's way to your clit, toying with it in the way you loved the best.

You cried out as you felt your walls clench, you were already embarrassingly close, your orgasm already coiling in your stomach, Konig moaned and grabbed a tit in his hand, running the pad of his thumb against it, making you cry out, your nipples already sore and sensitive from the hormones.

You gasped loudly as Konig pushed down on your tummy, your g-spot hitting the tip of his cock at the perfect angle, making you cum, clenching down on his almost painfully as you whined his name, almost like a damn prayer. Riding your orgasm out on him, you clenched again.

Konig whined, grabbing your hips and moving you slightly back, shooting up as you clenched around him, the coil in his stomach snapping as he came inside you, you gasped and cried out as you felt him cum inside you, whining in protest. "Konig!" You gasped, he let his face rest in your tits. "I-i'm sorry love, I couldn't help it you're so warm and it's been so long..." He whined, not being able to look up at you. "Ko I don't care about that." You sighed, stroking his hair.

He looked up at you, kissing you with nothing but love. You kissed back, letting your hands knot in his hair. He moaned into you, flipping you under him and kissing down your neck "My turn to please you maus."

A/N, sorry if it's short and shitty, this is my first Konig smut I've written, if you have a request feel free to DM me!

#konig smut #könig smut #konig x reader #mw2 #call of duty mw2 #konig fanfiction #konig call of duty #konig #könig cod #könig

[vintagemulti]

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

-

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

-

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

-

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

#the glass series #moonknight #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight fanfic #moonknight imagines #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marc spector imagines #marc spector imagine #marc spector fluff #marc spector fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagine #steven grant imagines #steven grant fluff #steven grant #jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley imagines #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader

[topguncortez]

GNASHING MY TEETH FOR BREEDING KINK.

have we considered... both jake and bradley??

AT THE SAME TIME???

because if that’s the case… let us say a quick prayer for mercy

dirty smut below the cut

warnings: unprotected sex, threesomes, dom/sub dynamic, cursing, breeding kink, lewd language, cream pie.

these two are already cocky individuals but the fact that they BOTH have you begging for them?? their egos grow larger than the goddamn planet.

jake is the one who first slips and says something. Bradley is hitting it from the back, your face situated in Jake’s lap as you try (and fail) to suck him off. Your jaw is open as Bradley grips your hips and fucks deep into you. It’s right there that the little intrusive thought leaves Jake’s lips

“he keeps doing that and he’ll put a baby right in you.”

Bradley felt you clench around him, and he looked up at Jake, "I think that's what she wants me to do."

Jake bit his lip as he looked at his lover, balls deep in his other lover, "Yeah? You think she wants you to fuck a baby in her?" You answered the question with a moan, "Sweetheart, I wasn't talking to you," You rolled your eyes and fisted the sheets in your hands, "Bradley, do you think she wants you to fuck a baby in her? To have her cunt filled with your cum?"

You clenched around Bradley again, and he tilted his head back in ecstasy, "Fuck yes. Fuck, you should feel the way she's squeezing me. Greedy fucking cunt, wants all of daddy's cum."

You watched as Jake wrapped his hand around his length, jacking himself as he watched Rooster pound into you. Rooster slid a hand down between your thighs, finding that bundle of nerves that would tip you over the edge.

"Oh fuck! Bradley, please!" You cried out, feeling that oh so delicious tightening in your lower belly.

"What do you want, baby?" Jake asked, "You want Bradley to fill you up? To knock you up with our baby? Fuck, you'd look so pretty all full and round."

You nodded your head over and over again, "Fuck, Jake, please,"

Jake and Bradley shared a look. Bradley looked like he was on the verge of exploding, but he knew that he had to ask before he came in you. It was Jake's night of being in charge of the scene.

"You want to, Bradley?" Jake asked, cocky smirk painted on his face, "You want to give it to her, don't you."

"Jake. . . fuck yes," Bradley panted, "Please."

"Then do it. Cum in her. Cum so deep in her she's dripping cum for days."

And just like that hot spurts of Bradley's cum painted your cunt, as you released your own orgasm. A loud moan ricocheted off the walls as Bradley's grunts filled the air. Bradley slowly thrusted into you, milking his orgasm and emptying every drop of cum into you. The two of you were still for a moment, before Bradley pulled out of you. You sighed and flopped down between Jake's legs, feeling your own still shaking.

Jake gently brought his hand down to your cheek, caressing it gently. You looked up at him and still saw that dark, mischievous glint in his eye.

"Take a quick nap. . . I still gotta take my turn at knocking you up."

--- --- ---

this is for you @cherrycola27 ;)

in my hangster with a young gf era

send in thots pls:)

#g mail #top gun blurb #top gun maverick blurb #top gun smut #top gun maverick smut #Jake seresin #Jake hangman seresin #Jake seresin blurb #hangman blurb #hangman #hangster blurb #hangster smut #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw #rooster #Bradley Bradshaw blurb #rooster blurb #rooster smut #Bradley Bradshaw smut #Jake seresin smut #Jake seresin x Bradley Bradshaw #Jake seresin x Bradley Bradshaw x you

[hanibalistic]

#FFFAFA | GHOST.

genre | angst, fluff, platonic relationship au, grumpy dad x eager child dynamic

word count | 2754

warning | mention of death, mention of pain, mention of human trafficking, mention of kidnapping / i know absolutely nothing about this game and this man. ​

note | i just thought his appearance and the little personality i can tell from tiktok fit the description of this scenario. also i like this trope. i apologize in advance but this thought just had to go somewhere other than my head.

“Where’s the kid.”

A stoic voice matched with an even more intimidating stance—the medic did not need to turn around to know it was Simon Riley (or Ghost, as he liked to be called) talking behind him. He calmly turned around to face the sudden speaker, and his brows raised. Despite barely healing from severe unattended injuries and dehydration, Ghost remained tall and demanding; nobody should expect anything less from him.

“Where’s the kid.” Ghost said again when he did not receive an answer promptly enough. He enunciated every word with gruff but no grit. It could be the hazy brain taking a small toll on him. He did remember the other medic recommending a timely rest that he had no plan to take. Until he could find you, that was.

The medic looked around the area, massively confused. Kid? What kid? Has Simon Riley finally lost his goddamn mind after being stranded in the desert for weeks without the proper nourishment? He was almost killed, after all! The only reason he managed to make it back was that whoever tried to kill him foolishly thought he died. Could this possibly be the side effect of the recent traumatic experience? Having hallucinations?

“Fucking hell, where’s my kid?” That sounded like a question this time around. His voice had more restlessness in it, if one couldn’t fathom him ever being frantic about anything. Ghost had taken a step forward, his hands curled into fists, and his gaze hardened to scare the answer out of an unassuming medic. “The kid that came here with me. They are about this tall. Dirty hair, really fucking chatty? You could not have missed them.”

The medic cowered a step back. Ghost has finally lost his mind this time because he has no idea what nonsense that was. Humming in thoughts in hopes to fill the silent air, the medic glanced to the side just outside the tent, hoping to see someone pass by that could help him with the delusional lunatic asking him such an unfathomable question. A child? Everyone would have known if there was a child running around this place!

Ghost could see the altered glance immediately, and for a moment, he was about to lose his temper. But, he found that his question was answered as soon as he gave the medic a chance and turned around to look over his shoulder. There you were, just standing outside the tent in your dirty clothes and bare feet, staring at the helicopter with genuine fascination. Ghost furrowed his brows in disdain after he scanned your appearance. How come nobody gave you a change of clothes?

Wordlessly, Ghost turned around and left the medic’s tent. He marched over to where you stood, coming up behind you silently until he was finally within arm’s reach. He grabbed a fistful of the collar of your shirt and pulled you off the ground, causing you to struggle with a yelp of surprise. He turned you around slowly to face him, and his deadpan eyes did not change when you smiled sheepishly upon recognizing him.

“Oh…” you rubbed your hands together apologetically and placed them near your chin in a prayer gesture, “I didn’t know you were awake.”

“I barely slept, you idiot,” he said as he carefully dropped you on the ground. “I told you not to run around by yourself.”

You scoffed at him, dusting off your clothes as if you had fallen and gotten back up without his help. “I thought this was supposed to be a safe place!”

“It is,” he clarified calmly. “But safe places can get invaded.”

“So it’s not safe,” you pointed out smugly, poking his arm as if you’ve made a point he cannot defend himself against. The only response you got was a flick on your forehead. His fingers sounded against your skull, the force strong enough to make you stumble back before he watched you gather yourself together again.

Ghost did not once tear his eyes off you. His cold heart froze over again with paranoia when his brain even raised the idea of looking elsewhere during the topic of potential danger.

This was supposed to be a safe place where the medics and his comrades were. This was where his most trusted fighters are. If an invasion was to happen, things could not go nearly as bad as if he was anywhere else. But, unfortunately, you were neither a medic who knew the risks of staying at a place like this, nor were you a trained soldier who knew how to protect yourself in a blazing war.

You were just a kid he found along the way, who had latched onto him for survival, and he had no reason to kill. Fortunately for you, he did not have to choose between you and himself during the early days of you following him in his travels. By the time danger did welcome you both in its arms, Ghost had, surprisingly, knocked down the impenetrable walls of putting himself above orders and logic. Or perhaps it was you who brought a hammer and knocked them down for him.

Who knew? Simon Riley was not an expert in human emotions; he feels them, he just never thinks about them. He knew things could go as wrong as Hell would allow it if an invasion did happen. He knew that it would have been over the second you were captured. But Ghost had no plan to let it happen ever again.

After that night, on the twentieth day of traveling. It was right after you both were offered some food by a suspicious group of travelers, whom Ghost later found out had sold information of your existence to a group of recruiters of a human trafficking ring. You were snatched away in his line of sight after you had strayed too far from him, and he has never been more enraged. Becaise you disobeyed him, and because people underestimated his ability to kill absolutely everyone in sight with his bare hands who even dared to take you from him.

Ghost had no plan to let something like that happen ever again. So, if an invasion happens, this will remain a safe place for you. Any perimeter where he exists will be a safe place for you as long as he can guarantee it.

“Hmph!” You pulled a face at him when he remained silent at your words. Crossing your arms before you, you looked up at him and scoffed, “All adults do is lie.”

“Do not frame me for something I never did,” Ghost retorted, his hands awkwardly placed at his hips because he did not know what else to do with them now that he wasn’t holding a weapon. He let them drop to his sides immediately, a dissatisfied groan leaving his lips. “I have never lied to you.”

You pursed your lips together into a knowing smirk, but your eyes spoke a story of annoyance. You clicked your tongue, giving him a mischievous shake of your head, then you began to hop on your spot to prepare yourself for landing. Ghost immediately rolled his eyes, mentally exhausted from your antics. He knew what you planned to do, and he remembered the ‘lie’ you implied he told you. He had no plans to indulge you in your self-assigned mission to take his mask off.

“Incoming!”

“Damn it–you cannot shout that here–hey!”

You jumped and immediately grabbed onto his strong arm. Your feet kicked against his shin for momentum, which barely gave you any, but you stepped on his leg to use as leverage to climb up his body, so all was well. He struggled against you as you grabbed onto his shoulders and hoisted yourself over one side of it, letting yourself dangle and threatening to fall face-first onto the ground. He clumsily—ha! as if!—placed a hand forward to catch your reckless self just in case, while his other hand pressed against your middle back to keep you on his shoulder.

This was not the first time you have climbed him like a tree, paying his physical boundaries no respect as you stepped and kicked against his body to reach his shoulders. But he found himself catching you whenever you decided to fling yourself to the ground like a carcass, and he found himself holding onto your ankles when you thought it would be fun to fling upside down on his back as he walked. It was never a good idea; you always ended up feeling nauseated, and you liked to blame the heinous smell of his sweat.

And you had made a habit of stacking your body atop his when you slept so you could feel all of his movements, and you would know if he ever tried to abandon you again. He had a sickening realization that he had not felt that familiar body weight in several nights.

“Hey! Listen to me!” Ghost whisper-yelled at you, but you paid no attention to him. “You cannot be yelling stupid things like that!”

You scoffed with a childish smile. “Don’t worry, Ghost! Nobody can hear me but you!”

“With that high-pitched screech, they can hear you all the way from the moon,” he said.

“Oh, that’s where I’m going next! To the moon!” You giggled as you raised your torso and slapped a hand to his face. However, interestingly, you did not attempt to peel his mask off. You only looked at the helicopter in front of you and pointed at it. “Maybe I can get there in a helicopter!”

“You need a rocket ship for that,” Ghost said as he slowly helped your sliding body off his shoulder and onto the ground.

“A helicopter can be a rocket ship if I wanted it to. This is my world now,” you mused as you looked up at him. Your smile shifted a little when you saw how he looked at you—stoic, cold, but not without kindness and, hidden somewhere, remorse he was unwilling to process. You frowned gently at him; Ghost was still delusional. “Do you remember what you promised me about your mask?”

“That I will take it off so you can see my face,” he replied.

You tilted your head and widened your smile slightly. Your brows furrowed with a sorrowful tint as you whispered, “That’s not all.”

Ghost could remember. He didn’t think he had ever forgotten anything important, and a promise with a child he had unknowingly bound himself to would never be abandoned by him. He just had a hard time acknowledging it—thinking about it was unsettling for him, almost like an eerie itch along his body he could not scratch off. He was being avoidant because he was so helpless about it.

“I promised you that I would take off my mask and let you see my face…” he repeated, and choking down the knot in his throat, he continued, “if that is the last thing you’ll ever see of me.”

You smiled. You knew he would remember.

“But that will not be until years later, so there is no bloody reason why you are bringing it up now,” he added urgently, even though his voice didn’t show it.

You played with your fingers, unsure of what you could say.

There was no way that could happen years later because you were already dead. And Ghost knew that because you died in his arms.

“You cannot dream for years, Ghost,” you whispered. “You have to wake up.”

Just like that, suddenly, everything was gone. The tents, the sky, the helicopter, the clouds, the guns and ammo, the wind—everything surrounding you were gone. You looked around at the scenery change; the dream was re-wiring itself according to Ghost’s memories and control, including yourself. The bloodied spot on your chest grew big and wet, and the sky was dark with visible stars, and there was the knife he had pulled out of you after someone threw it toward you as a last desperate attempt at revenge.

“I don’t like the blood stain.” You frowned at yourself.

“Okay.” It was gone.

Ghost stared at you, his emotions thoroughly mixed up. He has been through this before. He has undergone trauma before. This was nothing extraordinary, and it should not be. He understood it. Death, dying, trauma, killing, blood. He understood it all. He has been hurt, pierced, shot, tortured. He understood it all. His father’s cruelty, his father’s abusive hands, his father’s degeneracy. He understood it all.

But did he truly understand this?

Pain comes in various forms. Pain can stem from different causes. The explosion of a bullet inside his body or the blade across his flesh. He knew what it felt like to be hurt by the names in red, to be hurt by a father. But did he know how to fathom it when his pain landed on somebody else’s skin? Did he know what it was when his pain choked through him in the form of another’s lifeless body? Did he understand the agony that happens when a child that has bound themself to a parent, abandons them by death?

He experienced it, but he did not understand it.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you muttered. “I tried to hold on, I did. But my chest hurt.”

“I am not mad at you. I won’t get mad over something you can’t control,” he said. “I should have protected you better.”

You jumped faintly, standing on your tip-toes and rocking your heels back and forth. “You did!” You cheered quietly. “You kept me safe all this time.”

“You died.”

“I did.” You frowned in feigning sorrow. “Bummer.”

Oh, but he did understand it. He understood it very well. The consequence of your death blatantly presented itself to him in this dream. You were a dream. Your being safe was a dream. Your being alive was a dream. You climbing him like a tree, you talking about getting on a helicopter and flying to the moon, you sleeping on him so he would not leave you, you talking back to him, you shouting in his ears—it was all a dream he struggled not to wake up from.

In here, he gets to keep the kid.

In here, he gets to keep you.

And he gets to take you to the moon on a helicopter that functions as a rocket ship. Because he wires his dream according to your childish desires. Because he will give you whatever you want. Because he had given himself the role of a father he never thought he would fill.

How did it feel when you died? Agonizing and staggering. Like he failed at a job he knew nothing about but was doing his best in. Like he was full of nothing but anger and guilt because everything that could ever happen to you directly links back to him, because you were his responsibility. Like someone reached between your ribs and found his heart there, and they ripped it to pieces and left the shards lying inside of you.

How did it feel when you died? Like a dad just lost his baby, and he remembered once again how cruel this world could be when innocent children cannot be above adult hatred and violence.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered. “I did all I could.”

You grinned as you approached him and took his hand. You took off his glove, pressed his palm to your face, and nuzzled against it, feeling the callousness of his skin that has held more death than life, more blood than skin. “You did for me. Thank you.”

He wished to caress your cheek, but his joints remained frozen. He wished to smile, but he found it hard to quirk his lips when he realized the dimming of his consciousness. Beneath the skull mask, he managed a light-hearted smirk, and, if one could fathom it, his gaze softened with unswayable care, curated by the one thing greater than human tragedy—love, supposed. But that would be too cliché, would it not? Besides, this is Simon Riley!

“Do you still wish to see my face?” Ghost asked, “I’m giving you a positive.”

You squinted your eyes joyfully at him, willing that he not be defined by the tragedies he endured and that his heart could remain soft. Perhaps if you put a little bit of yourself in him, he would.

“You made me a promise!” You said with a nod.

That he did.

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #will probably delete this soon because this is not kpop lmao

[brackishkittie]

୨୧- CHAPTER FOUR, blame it! - ୨୧

summary: you go to a party with your friends and see ellie, you try avoiding her the whole night but when she sees you talking to an old friend, her blood boils and she just has to say something.

c/n: alcohol usage, strong language, jealous!ellie, you and ellie argue ( kinda idk ), and ellie going crazy..again.

a/n: idk why this took me so long to finish but here you guys go! come get y’all juice!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️

series masterlist! - chapter four ➝ chapter five!

"girl I'm outside hurry up," ashlesha said as she tapped her nails on her grey leathered steering wheel as she signaled for nari to scoot over to the other seat with her bag. “I’m coming outside just let me grab my bag and I’ll be right out,” you answer back while fixing your lip liner and ending the call. you walk out of the house and head straight for ashlesha’s car, “girl we thought you were gonna take 18 years and 5 business days to get ready..” nari says as she fixes her blush in her small mirror. “oh please I didn’t even take that long..now let’s go, I’m ready to down some tequila and henny.” you all laugh as ashlesha takes the car out park and puts it back in drive. 30 minutes later, as soon as it hits 8, you all finally make it to the party. “I’m telling y’all..if ellie is here I’m leaving..” you say but get pushed infront of the door by your two friends, “GIRL GOOOO SHE’S NOT HERE!!” nari says, putting her hand on her hip, and groaning.

“ok ok!” you push open the door and walk in as ashlesha and nari follow behind you. you all rush to the kitchen for that well known red solo cup and only a few cranberry and hennessy shots later, you all are on the couch laughing your asses off at the littlest things and then you see her. the one person you didn’t wanna see was right across the room, in the corner, looking down into her cup, and her eyes suddenly dart towards yours as if she knew you were looking at her. she smiles slightly and looks back into her cup but god if you only knew..while she looked unbothered, she was sweating and panicking. “oh my god she’s here? MY PRAYERS!! MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!” she thought to herself and had to stop herself from screaming at the top of her goddamn lungs.

you furrowed your brows and huffed looking at your friends, “you guys said she wasn’t gonna be here” you groaned and playfully hit them both and they giggled. “it’s not funny cmon I wanna go home” you frowned and laid your head on nari’s shoulder. “you should go talk to her” nari says as she pats your head, “no way I don’t wanna talk to her” you sigh and look to your left and see dina and jesse making out in a corner like some freakishly horny crazy highschool teens. “ugh..get a room..” you roll your eyes and look to your right and see a very familiar face, “oh my god? jasmine?” you gasp and she looks at you, “y/n? oh my gosh, hey gorgeous!” you stand up and she comes over and hugs you. ellie sees this and immediately her face drops from “omg my favorite sexy ex that I miss so much is here!!” to “who the actual fuck is that touching her. what the hell.” she clenches her jaw as she watches you two from the corner of the room, her face hot and red.

the more and more you and jasmine laughed and giggled the more ellie felt herself losing her cool. she knew she was your ex now and she knew she couldn’t just march over there but the alcohol was kicking in and she was feeling bold. she walked over to you and jasmine and put her hand on your shoulder, “can I borrow her for a sec? yes? ok thanks.” ellie says as she pulls you away from jasmine who looks extremely confused. “what the hell ellie? what do you want?” you turn to her and say while she just stares at you, pulling her hand away from you and biting the inside of her cheek. “y/n are you doing this on purpose?” she says which makes you tilt your head and show visible confusion to her question. “what the fuck are you talking about?” you’re frustrated, folding your arms and leaning against the wall while she just stares at you trying to get you to fess up about whatever she thinks you’re doing.

all of a sudden, ellie’s face turns red out of embarrassment realizing you actually weren’t trying to make her jealous and that she probably needed to sober up from the alcohol. she rubbed her neck and opened her mouth to speak when she didn’t even get a chance because you immediately read her like a book once you saw her face turn red. “you’re jealous aren’t you?” you squint and almost laugh, “we aren’t together anymore els..move on please.” you say while pushing yourself off the wall to walk away.“whatever..there’s no one better than me anyway.” she now crosses her arms as yours fall to your sides. “oh fuck you. you sound like a man.” you roll your eyes and walk off while ellie flips you off and you can hear her mutter “fuck you too.” and you start giggling to yourself as you walk back over to jasmine.

as it got later on into the night you, nari, and ashlesha all fall asleep on the couch and around 3 in the morning you feel someone shaking you awake. “y/n? Y/NNNN!!! GIRL GET UP LET’S GO.” nari lightly slaps your face trying to wake you up and you start to open your eyes. “ughhhh my head hurts...I have a fucking headache what the hell.” you rub your head and look up at nari, “how many shots did I take?” you ask as she shrugs and looks at ashlesha for the answer but she just shrugs too. “god..can we go back to my place?? you guys can just stay until it’s finally morning.” you sit up from the couch and stretch. “yeah..can we order wingstop when they open? I’m fucking starving and I could fuck up some mango habanero wings right now…a cow even.” nari says while patting her stomach while you pick up your things and follow behind your friends who left the house. “do you think dunkin donuts is open? I need something sweet like now. I feel like a pregnant woman bossing around her wife and child.” nari says as you all fucking lose it while ashlesha starts driving back to your house, still laughing her ass off.

meanwhile with ellie though…

“oh cmon ellie..it couldn’t have been that bad...I hope…” dina says as she pats ellie’s back as she ugly cries into her hands about how much she fucked up that small interaction she had with you a few hours ago at the party. “well I mean..it could’ve gone worse.” jesse says as he chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair, “wow thanks jess, that totally makes me feel better!!” ellie says sarcastically which makes jesse huff and roll his eyes. “all she said was fuck you ellie..she could’ve like slapped you for even pulling her away or cussed you out even more for everyone at the party to hear.” he says while falling back on ellie’s bed and staring up at the ceiling. “jesse, you’re gonna send the girl into cardiac arrest please stop.” she looks at him and hits him on his arm, “well call me kevin gates because you know exactly what happens next after the cardiac arrest.” he laughs while dina and ellie turn to look at him with the most “shut the fuck up” expressions ever. “bad timing?..sorry.” he mutters and looks away.

“obviously?? and stop with that kevin gates video, it’s making me feel extremely ill.” dina says as she shakes her head and sighs, “ellie you really need to talk to y/n…SOBER and IN THE RIGHT MIND.” as soon as dina said that, ellie immediately stopped her ugly crying and side-eyed her so hard. “no shit dina..no shit..and stop yelling in my EAR because I’m right NEXT TO YOU.” ellie says as she wipes her face with her sleeve and goes to the kitchen for a tissue to blow her nose. dina looks at jesse and shakes her head, “man..she’s hooked on this girl..I feel bad because y/n may not come around and she’s on her bad bad BADDD.” dina scratched her head while jesse nodded in agreement.

ellie came back into the room and sat back down on the bed, “so what should I do? it’s only been like a week since our breakup. I can’t just say I wanna get back together now..” ellie groans and grabs her pillow that jesse was laying on, “hey! I was laying on that..” jesse sits up and frowns, “well that’s too damn bad.” ellie scoffs and hides her face in the pillow. “I say give it a few more weeks or a month maybe??” jesse says in response to what she said earlier which she freaks out about. “A MONTH?? ARE YOU CRAZY? she’ll already have moved on by then..I’ll just give it a few more weeks maybe, hopefully, she’ll unblock me on everything and talk to me...if not I’ll have to text her off one of my lurking accounts.” ellie sighs and rubs her temples, “I’m sorry did you just say ONE OF?? AS IN THERE’S MORE THAN ONE??” dina looks at her with pure concern as ellie turns to her and makes a face that says “uhm hello???? obviously???….”

“why do you need more than one?? one is enough to lurk at her..bro what is your problem?” dina blinks a few times before turning away from her and shaking her head in disbelief and disappointment. “in case she finds out it’s me and blocks me? duhhh like I need to have multiple accounts. it’s a necessity when it comes to lurking..you wouldn’t know anyway.” ellie rolls her eyes and nudges dina. “ok so like what if she presses all new accounts made will be blocked??” jesse blurts out which makes ellie’s neck snap towards him and she throws the pillow at him. “take that back NOW. do not manifest that negative energy into my life jesse.” she frowns and gets up, grabs her phone from her desk, and goes onto instagram. “now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go do my daily lurking on y/n’s account.” ellie says with a smile while jesse and dina groan in unison.

tags: @elsmissingfingers @astrcmoni @cowgirlcherrie @theganymedes @ximtiredx @ellieswifee @liabadoobee 🩷🩷

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #modern!ellie williams #jealous!ellie #jealous!elliewilliams #dina the last of us #dina tlou #jesse tlou #jesse the last of us #brackishkittie

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Quotes that speak to me on this really fucking shitty day

Hey, have I told you lately that you're brave? I still remember what you said to that little girl in the hospital about Luke Skywalker:"He's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is." Sweetheart, you're proof too.

It is, indeed, bullshit. It's all I can do not to pack a bag and be gone forever. Perhaps I could live in your room like a recluse. You could have food sent up for me, and I'll be lurking in disguise in a shadowy corner when you answer the door. It'll all be very dreadfully Jane Eyre

I'm afraid, though, I'm stuck here. Gran keeps asking Mum when I'm going to enlist, and did I know Philip had already served a year by the time he was my age. I do need to figure out what I'm going to do, because I'm certainly closing in on the end of what's an acceptable amount of time for a gap year. Please do keep me in your- what is it American politicians say?-thoughts and prayers

It drives me nuts sometimes that you don't get to have more say in your life. When I picture you happy, I see you with your own apartment somewhere outside of the palace and a desk where you can write anthologies of queer history. And I'm there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me and waking up in the same damn time zone with you every morning.

Have you ever had something go so horribly, horribly, unbelievably badly that you'd like to be loaded into a cannon and jettisoned into the merciless black maw of outer space?

I wonder sometimes what is the point of me, or anything. I should have just packed a bag like I said. I could be in your bed, languishing away until I perish, fat and sexually conquered, snuffed out in the spring of my youth. Here lies Prince Henry of Wales. He died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

Specifically, we were discussing enlistment, Philip and Shaan and I, and I told Philip I'd rather not follow the traditional path and that I hardly think I'd be useful to anyone in the military. He asked why I was so intent on disrespecting the traditions of the men of this family, and I truly think I dissociated straight (ha) out of the conversation, because I opened my blasted mouth and said, "Because I'm not like the rest of the men of this family, beginning with the fact that I am very deeply gay, Philip."

Once Shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier, Philip had quite a few words for me, some of which were "confused or misguided" and "ensuring the perpetuity of the bloodline" and "respecting the legacy." Honestly, I don't recall much of it. Essentially, I gathered that he was not surprised to discover I am not the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be, but rather surprised that I do not intend to keep pretending to be the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be.

Sometimes I imagine moving to New York to take over launching Pez's youth shelter there. Just leaving. Not coming back. Maybe burning something down on the way out. It would be nice.

9. How hard you try

10. How hard you've always tried.

11. How determined you are to keep trying.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

They all turn to look at him, and Alex feels a wave of something so much bigger than himself sweep over him, like when he was a child standing bowlegged in the Gulf of Mexico, rip-tide sucking at his feet. A sound escapes his throat uninvited, something that he barely even recognizes, and June has him first, then the rest of them, arms and arms and hands and hands, pulling him close and touching his face and moving him until he's on the floor, the goddamn terrible hideous antique rug that he hates, sitting on the floor and staring at the rug and the threads of the rug and hearing the Gulf rushing in his ears and thinking distantly that he's having a panic attack, and that's why he can't breathe, but he's just staring at the rug and he's having a panic attack and knowing why his lungs won't work doesn't make them work again.

He's faintly aware of being shifted into his room, to his bed, which is still covered in the godforsaken fucking newspapers, and someone guides him onto it, and he sits down and tries very, very hard to make a list in his head.

One.

One.

One

Once upon a time, there was a young Prince, who was born in a castle. And there had never been a prince quite like him: he was born with his heart on the outside of his body.

Whereas the other princes and noble children could withstand the slings and arrows of childhood, the Prince felt everything acutely. Everything seemed to touch and threaten his unprotected heart.

Oh for Christ sake Alex, for once! I wish you could see me for who I am and not who you want me to be! Sometimes, I don't think you know me at all!

I wasn't raised by a loving, supportive family like you were!

Nothing will ever happen to you.

I don't want your protection, I want your support.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry hanover stuart fox #firstprince #book quotes #personal #i can't anymore

[animentality]

An idea based on a dream I had where Durge got sick and Gortash got roped into taking care of them: Durge is in bad shape, running a fever and constantly faint and nauseous. But they're Bhaal's Chosen and they cannot show weakness dammit, so they keep acting like everything is normal. Until they collapse in Wyrm's Rock on their way to meet Gortash. Gortash hauls them to his room and commands them to stay there and rest until they feel better.

At first he tries to have servants or Banites tend to them so he can keep working, but even in their diminished state they're strong enough to kill them, so he has to take care of them himself. "You're behaving like a petulant child," he chides them one night after he brings them soup and they insist they can feed themselves (even though they're burning up and can barely sit up on their own). "I'm not supposed to get sick," they grumble back.

"My dear, you live in a sewer, bathe in blood, and eat human flesh. I'm surprised you didn't get sick sooner."

"No, you don't understand. I'm Bhaal's dead flesh given life. I can't get sick, not unless my Father wills it. He must be terribly angry with me."

"Why would he be angry with you?" They don't answer, just shove the soup aside and turn away.

Later Gortash finds them passed out at his desk where they were still trying to work through their fever and shakes, and he finds them leaned over The Prayer for Forgiveness. Something they wrote while sick to the point of deliriousness. Something they don't remember writing when the fever breaks a few days later. Something he always carried with him, but didn't have the courage to ask them about, and then he lost them.

AHHHAHHHHHHWHHHHHHH.

OK you already got me with doting boyfriend Gortash who needs the dark urge to settle down, to let him take care of them, but fuck.

bringing in the prayer of forgiveness??? shit.

that would be goddamn perfect now wouldn't it

even in all their strength, ignoring their own humanity for decades, presenting a powerful facade of cunning and devilishly evil cruelty, when they're vulnerable and weak, they confess their failings to themselves and to father... and their greatest failing is their fondness for Enver Gortash.

and maybe father didn't notice but they noticed and they're ashamed and they're so, so sorry.

and this coming at the tail end of a horrible fever... when they're at their lowest...

that being the only time they can even admit to themselves that they were fond of Gortash... eurgh.

perfect, anon. you're perfect.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash #dark urge #durgetash

[mysterypond]

AITA for punching my friend’s shitty father on live television?

My friend (12 M) has been searching for his dad (30? M) for as long as I’ve known him, and this quest to find him ended him up in a coma in the hospital. No one’s sure if he’s going to make it. He means a lot to me (21 M), and I know how much he cared about achieving his goals, so I ended up losing my temper when I met that piece of crap dad of his. 

He was at the election panel, taking questions, and I asked him why he hadn’t seen his son in the hospital and the bastard straight up replied that his son “hadn’t asked to see him”. 

Motherfucker!

The kid is in a coma! There’s no possible goddamn way for him to ask! What a fucking cop out! What kind of answer is that? A bad one, I’ll tell you that. 

And that’s about where I lost my temper, and punched him.

What I hadn’t considered... was this was on live television. There was a slow-mo cam and everything added. It’s trending all over the hunternet. People are obsessed and memeing the shit out of it. 

Not sure how my friend is going to think about it once he sees it.... Since I did punch his dad and all... I hope he gets well enough to. 

Edit:  Thanks everyone for the kind thoughts and prayers for my friend, we’re really hoping he pulls through

Edit 2: Holy crap stop voting for me? I don’t even want to be chairman???

Edit 3: Wow, y’all hate Ging so much you’re voting me for punching him. Honestly? Respect. 

Edit 4: Seriously guys. I’m a rookie hunter. You want me as chairman???

#leorio paladiknight #ging freecss #gon freecss #hxh #hunter x hunter #aita #wil x wil

[chungledown-bimothy]

i was going to say top 5 make some noise prompts and then i thought about how constantly i reference them and went "oh that's way too hard" so...... hm. top 5 battle for beyond moments and top 5 dnd chaos moments to start. OH and top 5 underrated d20 seasons or other actual-play stuff if you'd like

ty for not asking the impossible of me re: make some noise prompts lol

god i hate that i keep having to say this, but i don't remember dnd chaos well enough to give a top 5 answer that means anything, i'm sorry!

that said. top 5 b4b? let's fuckin go.

(yes some of these aren't a single moment but i'm obsessed with b4b's "how it started out with a bit how did it end up like this" energy)

1- Trick? No, I don't charge. This one needs no explanation. Nikhil's a slut and so am I.

2- Nikhil's lance. It's the only thing he cares about. His sister made it for him. He says something like a prayer to it.

3- Let Ekon sleep. I felt that shit in my goddamn soul.

4- I'm pretty sure potatoes are a kind of meat. I'm morosexual, actually.

5- Literally the whole scene in their quarters after the bee tree fight. Sestia and Murdina definitely fucked. Nikhil asking Sestia to slap him so he can hellish rebuke the tea. Everyone lying their asses off about wanting to share the room.

underrated actualplay stuff. (wait hang on carlos was involved with almost all of these. interesting)

1- coffin run. please. i am begging everyone. watch it. izzy and zac have what i am 100% confident is the funniest dynamic of the entirety of d20. every single time the camera cuts to them, something unhinged and fucking hilarious is about to happen. carlos is the most wet kitten of a man, and erika... i can't do may justice. you gotta watch it.

2- battle for beyond. that top 5 was extremely difficult- i almost just said 5 of the 6 pcs because it's all just. so. good. the nikhil/sestia/murdina throuple is everything to me. the characters' growth and god the worldbuilding. i cannot overstate how much i love it.

3- dnd chaos. i really need to rewatch them. again, tables of pcs that absolutely fuck. i need citizen doctor abraham mehermblur carnally. both times, it's a fucking all-star cast. 10/10 highly recommend.

4- barbie d&d from PixelCircus. i've seen basically no one talking about it, and holy shit it was so fucking funny and i love when a shiny, happy aesthetic ends up going into truly terrifying existential horror. "this barbie commits war crimes!" carlos pops the fuck off.

5- candela obscura. i've not seen the first arc and i'm not done with the second (i've got an hour left of ep 2 and ep 3 is six. hours. long.) but god fucking damn. just. watch it. i cannot do it justice.

#dimension 20 #coffin run #battle for beyond #dnd chaos #barbie d&d #candela obscura

[baejinhwa]

i don’t feel too good

jung wooyoung x reader

genre: fluff; angst if you squint

tw: cursing (but feel free to add if there’s more)

Contrary to waking up feeling refreshed and energized, I feel like I was run over by a truck a couple of times. And as much as I would like to take time off of school, even just for the day, I knew that it is more difficult to catch up on the lessons that I will miss.

Then, came second period. I felt like shit. It came to a point that I had to visit the restroom just to throw up.

“Are you sure you are okay?" my friend approached me as I exit the restroom for the umpteenth time.

"I am."

"You look really pale.. if you ask me."

"I said I'm ok-" And before I can even finish my sentence my head felt like it's about to fall off any minute.

Noticing my unfinished sentence, my friend dragged me to the clinic.

An hour has passed, my friend left for her next class.

"You should just call someone to pick you up. I don't think you can go home at this state." the doe eyed nurse advised me.

Nodding my head, I proceed to call Wooyoung, my boyfriend.

He picked up in a heart beat.

"Woo, I don't feel too good. If it's alright with you, can you pick me up?"

“Are you okay? Is there someone who can look after you until I get there?

“No, it’s okay. Just a little dizzy is all”

"Just stay there, okay? I’ll pick you up. I love you"

"I love you too"

Wooyoung 's POV

I was about to leave the dorm when I heard a knock. And because my mind was too preoccupied and worried about y/n, I opened the door absentmindedly.

I was then faced with a tear stained Ally, my ex-girlfriend.

"Wooyoung-ah"

Y/N 's POV

Where is he? I was waiting for Wooyoung outside thinking he'll be arriving shortly.

But boy, I was wrong...

I think me waiting for Wooyoung was a bad idea because slowly, I feel my head getting heavier than before. I was about to stand up when I started to lose control of my limbs... The last thing I heard before everything went black was the piter pater of the rain.

Wooyoung 's POV

I was talking to Ally on the sofa when someone knocked at the door.

"I'Il get it." Jongho rushed towards the door.

Y/N’s POV

Before Jongho could even open the door wide enough for us to enter, I immediately regretted looking at him.

"I-Ih-have to go" I tell F/N

Woovoung's POV

"JUNG WOOYOUNG!" And before I knew it F/N headed towards me.

"Uh- hi, F/N," scratching my head

"Where's Y/N?" trying to peer behind her to see if Y/N came with her.

"You really are a dick." F/N shook her head disapprovingly.

"What do you mean?"

“Y/N WAS RUSHED TO THE HOSPITAL, ASSHOLE! SHE WAITED FOR YOUR GODDAMN ASS TO PICK HER UP. SHE WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU THAT DESPITE BEING THE ONE WHO'S SICK, THE FIRST THING SHE SAID WHEN SHE REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS WERE "IS WOOYOUNG OKAY? " BUT HERE SHE SEES YOU GETTING COZY WITH SOME GIRL!!! UN FUCKING BELIEVABLE”

That's when it hit me.

Y/N.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

"SHE LEFT WHEN SHE SAW YOU WITH HER" F/N pointed at Ally.

I rushed out of the dorms with tears threatening to spill. Guilt consuming me for hurting the woman I love.

“PLEASE BE OKAY. PLEASE BE OKAY. PLEASE BE OKAY. “ I repeated as if some kind of prayer. As if repeating those three words would magically erase tonight’s events and me and y/n would be in each other’s arms watching cliche rom coms.

I was about to exit the building when I saw her hunched by the floor, crying. I stealthily approached her hunched figure and about to touch her back when I heard her utter words that I never knew would break my heart

“I guess it was about time he realized how much better she is”

"Y/N" She slowly raised her head.

She looked different. Those loving orbs whenever our eyes meet were replaced by sad ones.

"What do you want, Wooyoung?" My name seemed foreign now.

Please call me Woo. You never call me Wooyoung. I would like to say, but I knew I don't deserve it.

"I'm sorry, ba-"

"Don't. Just answer this one thing, do you love me?

" Of course I do. So much”

"Then tell me, what was so important? Was it Ally? Because if she is, I would gladly get out of you guys' way."

"No. Never," | was a crying mess when I slowly held her hand. And when she did not brush my hand off, I continued, "I know I am an ass who abandoned her girlfriend when she needed him the most, but one thing is for sure, I. WOULD. NEVER. CHEAT. ON. YOU. I love you too much.”

"Then tell me, why is she there?” She asked as if she knew the answer before even hearing mine

"She asked me to take her back."

"Oh."

Hearing dejection lace her tone, knew I had to do something.

"Babe. hey, look at me." I whispered, softly cupping her face in the process.

“I turned her down. Of course I did. Why would I take her back, when I have the most amazing girlfriend that I could ever ask for and I was a fool to hurt her like this."

"I know I hurt you and I have no one to blame but myself.. can you forgive me?"

" You don't have to forgive me now.

Take all the time that you need but in the meantime, let me take care of you." I said trying to pull her up.

"|- "

"Please? Just until you get better. After that, you have all the time in the world. Just le-“

Suddenly, I felt her soft lips on mine.

"Can you let me finish?”

I nodded too flustered. That kiss was brief but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t enough to get my heart pounding

“To answer your question, yes I forgive you and yes, you can take care of me."

"Really?"

"Yes, Woo"

"Can you repeat that again?"

"Yes?" I shook my head "What?Woo?"

Y/N 's POV

"What?"

"No,” he whines "the one after that"

"Woo?!” A smile immediately adorned my boyfriend’s face.

"But I always call you Woo"

"A while ago, you called me Wooyoung”

"That's your name, silly!"

"Babe,"

I engulfed her in my arms; happy to feel her encasing hers on my waist.

" When you called me Wooyoung I thought I was about to lose the love of my life for good. I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore" he sniffles "I mean who would when I made my sick girlfriend wait and cry -"

If I were a candle, I would've melted right there and then. I never thought in a million years, that I'd ever find someone who'll love me as much as Wooyoung does.

With happiness spreading in my chest, I grabbed Wooyoung's collar and slowly placed my lips over his. Wooyoung immediately melted in to the kiss mumbling "I love yous" towards the "I love you too, Woo"

so much.

#ateez imagines #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #san #yeosang #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #imagines #kpop imagines #Spotify #ateez angst #ateez fluff

[discodeviant]

Deceiver, Dissembler

Billy/Steve | Mature | 1k words Referenced Abuse

Again, the idea for this changed like seven times, but I hope you like what I've landed on! Also just... assume there's no upside down in anything I write because there never is lmao. Enjoy <3

Made for @billyhargrovebingo!

Read on AO3

It used to feel like a panic attack. An abrupt, painful grip around his lungs—the truth hiding somewhere deep in his heart where it was shallow enough for Neil to reach in and grab it himself. He always knew where to poke his fingers, what to hold onto, what strings to pull so Billy would talk; and by the end, Billy was hardly skin and bones. But the void he felt afterwards was better than panic, so he accepted it for a long time.

Then, one day, it felt like a challenge. The panic didn’t have time to set in before exhaustion—boredom—because the routine was so tired by then. Questions repeated themselves every other day about where Billy was, who he was with, why this or that was missing and what did he do with it.

At seventeen, it felt like a prayer.

Hawkins made it easy and all the more difficult; he could lie because no one knew the truth. No one knew Billy Hargrove better than Billy himself, but some people liked to think they did. Tommy Hagan—he thought he had Billy all figured out. Cali boy just needed a country fuck, that's why he was so uptight, it'd make him less nervous. He was good-looking, so it would be easy to get any girl on her knees or her back, but Billy always told Tommy to piss off because he didn't need a fuck, he needed a cigarette. "Suit yourself," Tommy would say, and Billy would flip him the bird.

Then came the bruises, and the performative little rivalry with Steve Harrington made them easy enough to explain at first when they shoved each other in the halls and got too handsy in the gym. Or Billy would say he got mugged in the city, and you should see the other guy. Sometimes it was true, but most times the other guy was unscathed. Spotless the next morning in a dress shirt and tie, neatly pressed under a trimmed moustache and clean-shaven chin. Knuckles never bruised either. No one would know a thing.

There was one truth that Neil chose to ignore most days, and while Billy was thankful for it, sometimes the worry was unavoidable. Sometimes he didn't think the lie would be enough, and the performative little rivalry with Steve Harrington made it harder to put the truth away for a time when it wouldn't be dangerous. It went from snide comments and glares to flirtatious quips and bedroom eyes in a matter of weeks. Steve would be the death of him, Billy swore it, for more reasons than one.

For a while it felt like a sin, lying to Steve, because Steve never lied to him. Omitted some information at times, but that wasn't the same. That wasn't what Billy did to him when he said that he couldn't go to the movies one night because Max needed help finishing a project, or that he wasn't in school because he had an appointment he couldn't miss. That he got in a scuffle outside of a bar because the owner caught whiff of a kid trying to buy whiskey. That he wasn't like that, because he was with Steve, and he never tried to hide it when they were alone.

At seventeen, Billy’s prayer was answered.

"Then what the fuck is this!" They were at the quarry after a long, quiet drive. Steve was out of breath once he'd replaced Billy's agonizing silence with a long string of hurt and confusion. He lowered his voice: "You kiss me. You let me wash your hair. You make me dinner before going back home. My knuckles are bruised every weekend because you bite down so hard when I fuck you, and you're gonna stand here and tell me you're not like that? Bullshit."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just stop fucking lying to me, Billy! Do you have any idea how fucked up I am because everyone lies to me all the goddamn time? I don't believe anybody!" Steve's anger bloomed into a wide grin that Billy wished was happy. "Why bother with this if it's so bad that you can't even say it? Tell me!"

"Tell you what, man? That I'm a faggot who takes it up the ass from King Steve?"

Then Steve shrunk and stepped in closer, near-silent when he said, "That... that you like me, or—" Billy just kissed him, or tried to, before being pushed away. "Billy! Fuck, I'm serious,” he said with a sad smile and even sadder laugh, and Billy's cold hands found the ends of his hair once again to lock themselves in.

The truth swam around in Billy's mind and drained the water out through his eyes. "I don't wanna lie to you, Steve," he said, and Steve almost walked away, but the grip in his hair was too strong. "Jesus, will you let me finish?" Steve pouted. "Of course I fucking like you, okay?" Rolled his eyes with a huff; Billy kept his attention. "Just... the truth gets me in trouble, alright, and I don't want to drag you into it."

A deeper confession hid behind his lips.

"I'm already in it, Billy. I don't care. You don't have to lie to get me to stay."

He looked at Steve for a long while, not saying a word, considering whether that was a lie in itself. But Steve didn’t lie. Friends don’t lie. "I won't anymore," Billy said, but he knew it wouldn't be that easy, and Steve knew it too. "I'll try." He wiped his nose and tears in one motion with his sleeve.

Steve smiled, just a little. "Okay."

"You believe me?"

He nodded. "I trust you."

#.discowrites #stranger things #stranger things fic #one shot #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #billy hargrove bingo #billy is a compulsive liar #angst #kind of

[chansaw]

Hi! I don’t know if you’re still talking asks about the yj animorphs au, but just in case you are: how does each girl keep herself sane and grounded (or something close to it)? Does Laura Lee become even more driven by faith? Does Nat try to convince herself that she can “find her purpose” like in the show? Does Van retreat into fantasy and films? I’d read a thousand page novel of this au, I find it so fascinating :) Thanks!

yes i am ALWAYS taking asks about the yellowjackets animorphs au!!

anyways, to answer your question:

laura lee’s faith remains her anchor amidst the horror of the war. she remembered staring up at the angels on the stained glass windows in church as a little girl. it was their wings that fascinated her the most - what would it be like, she’d ask herself, to go to heaven, to be so close to god ? well, god works in mysterious ways. her question is answered when she morphs a peregrine falcon for the first time and she learns what it’s like to touch heaven for herself. she knows it’s a little strange, but she likes to go through her litanies while she rides the updraft winds. maybe being closer to heaven will mean god has a better chance of hearing her prayers.

shauna’s mother worried that jackie’s disappearance and presumed death would hit her even harder than the rough and messy separation from her father. but surprisingly, she seems to be alright. she spends an awful lot of time doting on the pet rabbit she adopted shortly after jackie went missing, but shauna’s mom doesn’t think anything of it.

but really, shauna grounds herself in the spilling of blood. there’s a strange sort of comfort in the danger she throws herself into. she pours all of her rage into each strike she throws. her adrenaline spikes and she feels on top of the world. she feels free. the team sees her as their insurance policy, and she knows that. it’s not her fault she’s so goddamn angry - at herself, at the yeerks, at fucking jackie - but it sure is useful sometimes.

lottie’s trying so hard. but it’s not like she can plonk on her psychiatrist’s couch and say “doc, can you up my meds? being the commander of earth’s only hope against utter destruction is kind of taking a toll on me.” she tries to be the lottie matthews everyone expects her to be. but she also throws more parties, smokes more cigarettes, steals more shitty clothes from tj maxx. she’s trying, she really is.

i’ll add a part two to this tomorrow because i have more to say but absolutely no mental capacity to explain any of it in my current state. anyways, there is a good chance i might write a thousand or more pages for this so you’re in luck

#yellowjackets animorphs au

[unsleepingtales]

I should not be doing this I should be writing an essay but ok fantasy high junior year episode fourteen let’s fucking go

I’m so stressed guys I need nothing bad to happen to them tonight

D&d is fun because it allows you to play out such fantasies as: finishing an essay for once in your goddamn life

“I will not be proselytizing” I do not believe you!!

Beesbees time!

Gertie height confirmed! 6’5-6’6 ish

Of the many honeyed confections I believe baklava is king I LOVE HER SO MUCH

She speaks in romance languages <3

Buckyyyyy

(Awkward and quiet)

Yeeeeesh

Bucky being drawn to Cassandra what if I cried

WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO FORGET

Oh shiiiiit

The wizard seems pretty cool Adaine!

Oooooh official subclass!

Creeeeepyyyy

Good to get some confirmation that Jace is weird

It’s the only time they get to hang out 😭😭

I’ll MISS YOU oh my god

Holy shit! She’s the ghost teacher!

To lie in prayer???

Loved the little ominous music after that

Made hand legerdemain! Let’s everybody hear it for mage hand legerdemain!

Oh that’s fascinating

Oh yeah Fig’s writing a song called Dawn of Justice but she’s never gonna believe in Ankarna

Fuck

What the hell is happening

Emily Axford your mind….

Took a break from the episode to submit an extension request because I am having a terrible time of it but we’re back now

The rat grinders have been to the mountains of chaos! Ok!

Girl what are you doing

You got an a+ for writing a note 😭

Oh right. Forgot about that.

We’re hemorrhaging money on the groundskeeper jawbone!!

Yessss the crying was fake

I love her soooooo much

For whyyyyy for what does he want that though

Regular ass freak

I’m too freaked out about my real life for this shit 😭

Dome art <3

Ok! I think (hope) Buddy will be willing to raise them

What the fuck are you talking about

Oh they have to actually know the answers oh god

I would love this but I know I am not the norm with that

I love that Gorgug has warding bond SO much

Did they JUST print out rat swarms oh my god

I’m so stressed

God this set is so cool

They put pipes on his mini 😭

Sleep is such a good spell

The amount of shirtless Agueforts gently bobbing in the background

Oh these are probably the butter jellies!

(Heavy breathing into imaginary pipes)

Ally looks so tired learning about the hydra

I hate thisssssss

I love their shenanigans though

That IS what school feels like :(

I love academia and learning I swear I’m just having a really bad time right now

I love Zac’s stamp flips <3<3

Sorry did Lou just do. 110 damage in one turn.

Fucking hell!

(Rolling so many dice)

God they’re so good. They’re so good at this.

Oh my fucking god!

I’m seeing d20 live the night the next episode comes out which is insane. Next week looks batshit. What a fun time we’re all having.

#fantasy high junior year #verbal component #reactions

[antisolararc]

82 for Ivrel?

82. Can You Hear Me?

TW: mention of drugs/addiction, very minor self-harm?

---

Ivrel claps her hands together in a prayer formation, shoulders square and brows furrowed in concentration.

Hey. Are you real? She tries to think as loudly as possible.

As expected, nothing happens.

She rips her hands apart and stares down at her palms with contempt. What a stupid idea. Praying to god had never done her any good. Why would that woman be any better? In the end, both of them must despise her.

After all, the woman said she was- Thought she was- No, it couldn’t be! Ivrel wouldn’t accept it, she wouldn’t be able to take it, if that was the cause of her suffering after all. It was just nonsense from someone who must be even more spiteful and miserable than her.

And then that bitch still had the audacity to ask her for a favor!

...A favor she’d fulfill at the same, but not for her, never for her. It would be for her friends, because they’ve accepted her, they might even like her, even if she doesn’t really understand why. The trajectory was set well before she saw that godforsaken vision. Shame it muddled everything up.

But the important part is that she chose it herself. Good or bad, her own decisions led her here. She’d reap, and then she'd sow. That was easy. That she could accept.

“I ain’t who you think I am,” Ivrel growls under her breath, shoving her hand into her pocket and fishing out a dented tin case and a rest stop lighter. The blunt is crumpled and half-used already. She jams it in-between her teeth and pulls in a deep breath, hissing on the exhale.

Why is she so fucking mad, anyways?

It wasn’t real, after all, just some contrived scenario conjured up by her drug-addled mind. As what, like, a reflection of her self-loathing? A grand new insight into her crisis of faith? She knows damn well how miserable she is already, no need for convoluted symbology. She puts her fingers to her temples and screws her eyes shut, nose wrinkling.

Fuck off.

She doesn’t want the woman to be real, but, at the same time, she hopes someone hears it.

Ivrel crosses her arms over her chest. Her claws are digging deep into her arms, but she doesn’t feel it at all anymore. It’s nothing, not after she’s been ripped to shreds over and over again. Who cares.

It’s all bullshit. She can’t stop thinking about it. It’s driving her crazy.

It nags at her, the lingering thought that she has to try it again, has to see it again, that she’ll get all the answers if she just has one more go at it.

That’s not feasible, though, and it’s a damn good thing that it’s not. Getting hooked on the holy hash, the spiritual spice, whatever you want to call it… That’s the last thing she needs. The shit is worth its weight in gold, and it's not even fun! For a split second, right as consciousness washed back over her, it’d felt like she’d been crushed by the weight of the whole world.

Besides, just once was humiliating enough already. The way they’d all looked at her. What was she supposed to say?

Well, s’pose I just couldn’t help myself!

What a goddamn shame.

“I was really askin’ for it, huh?” Ivrel says aloud, staring at the wall. A laugh bubbles up from her throat, and her mouth curves into a smile. “Think my next life’ll be any better?”

Of course, her inquiry is met only with silence.

#something something plot events i have yet to explain fully #ivrel #what did you see...? #writing #ask #the-golden-ghost #i should write more drabbles i had fun :) ivrel didn't though

[sayahs-corner]

Excerpt From Secrets Don't Make Friends

Because you asked so nicely :P I've been plugging away at this chapter for the past week. It's almost, almost, finished. Here is the very beginning of the last chapter of Secrets Don't Make Friends.

Chapter 14:

“I am ironman.”

Steve didn't say anything, he didn't need to. His eyes swept up and down Tony’s tense form, lingering on the fisted hands at his sides, before swooping back up to stare boldly into Tony’s eyes. There was a hardness in those blue orbs, a steely determination, undercut with an emotion that Tony couldn't quite put a name to.

His lips parted to explain - to deflect - maybe even to beg.

Please don't leave me. 

I love you. 

I wanted to tell you. 

He didn't get a chance. Steve stepped forward, stepped into Tony’s personal space, his hard hands going to Tony’s hips and capturing them. In no time at all Tony found himself pushed back into his own home and pinned to the wall. Steve’s blue eyes glittered in the morning light cutting through the open doorway. 

“You know, Tony, for a secret genius you can be a real bonehead.” Steve’s voice was pitched low and tight. “Do you think I care that you build robots? That you’re smart?”

Tony’s lips parted to answer, but the hard look in Steve’s eyes made his mouth snap shut with an audible click. 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? He had a live feed going.” Steve’s face contorted into a snarl. “ Schmidt was bragging about how he was going to have his soldiers kill and rape you. And all I could think was that I couldn't protect you. That you were going to die and I wasn't going to be able to be there to stop it from happening. And the worst thing of all? That you were going to die not knowing how I felt about you. Because I was too much of a coward to say the words to you. All I could think of was all those missed opportunities. Pinned to that wall, helpless, and all I could do was pray. Pray for a goddamn miracle.”

Steve swallowed hard, blinking furiously, his lips pressed into a thin line. Tony’s brow buckled at the obvious pain on his mate’s face. He wanted to reach up, to try to smooth it away, but he didn't know if his touch would have been welcomed just then. 

“And then my prayers were answered, Tony, because you were the miracle I was praying for. You saved yourself. You saved the kids. You saved Laura. You saved all of us.” Steve’s voice was raspy with emotion. 

“This pack, your pack, owes you an incredible debt that we can…we can never repay. If it weren’t for you we’d all be… the kids…” Steve’s hand lifted, coming up to cup the side of his face. 

Tony couldn't help the hot wash of  tears that stung his eyes, nor the way his face turned instinctively into that broad palm - seeking comfort. 

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re Santa Claus, Tony. You’re alive. You’re still here. And that is all that matters.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in this mating of ours. And I hope that you will stick around long enough for me to make it up to you.”

Tony’s hand reached up hesitantly. He laid it over the hand cupping the side of his face, eyes pricking with tears.

“I love you, Tony Stark-Rogers. I have loved you for a while now.” He said with a rueful smile. 

#sayah writes #sayah1112 #stony fanfiction #steve x tony #steve/tony #last chapter