#you’re worthy of more than you give yourself credit for

[whatlovelybones-if]

The weird thing about playing interactive fiction for me is that I will often self insert myself into the PC and when I see how the love interests interacts with them, it makes me feel so seen and loved. I dont get the same feeling in real life because I'm not very attractive or beautiful, your games are few of those gems which makes me feel desired for once

Sorry for the rant, just wanted you to know how much your stories mean to me 😅

to deduce one’s worth down to their physical vessel, which will one day cease to exist, is a foolish and preposterous act. for it is this very act of nonsense that disregards the beautiful, and entirely unique, infinite beauty of the soul that lies within, and fails to capture the wondrous essence of your energy.

you’re greater than the sum of your parts and far more beautiful than how you perceive yourself. what may seem undesirable and average to you might be the same qualities someone else will treasure and admire.

the world is made of over 8 billion people, far more than an average person might encounter in their lifetime. it wouldn’t be foolish to presume that an invisible string will tie you to someone who will meet you and see someone who they wish to love and adore for their whole entire lives.

[ghoulbrain]

Happiness is a Warm Gun

18+ 4.5k ghoul x f!reader. predator/prey roleplay, lite bondage lite cnc into enthusiastic consent, heavy gun kink/play, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie, aftercare. ends tender bc i can't help myself. gif credit. written for my darling @luckytiggertalia, who asked for excessive gun kink and captor/captive. thank you! 🖤 written as a successor to Saddle Up, Sweetheart, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Being in a relationship with the world’s most notorious bounty hunter lands you in some strange situations, but none stranger than those you concoct for yourselves. You run, and the Ghoul hunts you.

The Ghoul is one of the fiercest bounty hunters in New California, yet regardless of how terrifyingly efficient he is, everyone knows he only takes on payouts worthy of his time. With his long shadow stretching out across the west, most hunters are reluctant to take on bounties over a certain threshold, lest they accidentally come between him and his quarry.

Which, at this moment, just so happens to be you.

You’ve made it to a Red Rocket truck stop just half a mile west of Junktown. What was once a glorified gas station in a world long-gone now serves as little more than a hollowed out shell providing shade for all manner of miscreants and creatures wandering the dusty wastes, still decorated in tiny reminders of life before the war.

Crouched down behind a counter, your back pressed to the grime painted wall beneath a window, you spot a heavily aged cardboard carton labeled Grey Tortious Famous Cigarettes wedged at the very back of the second shelf behind the counter. Clicking your tongue softly, you reach for it, using the barrel of your pistol to catch the corner of the box. Carefully–and quietly–you drag it close enough to grab.

Your hopes aren’t high, but–

Jackpot.

Smiling faintly, you extract a crumpled but still half-full pack of cigarettes from the carton. You glance around, eyes wandering until you spot the decrepit remains of some poor bastard collapsed against the far wall, still garbed in their threadbare signature Red Rocket uniform. With a slight nod, you fish a single cap out of a small pouch on your belt and slide it onto the shelf.

“Pleasure doing business,” you murmur to the corpse, tucking the cigarettes carefully into the pack strapped to your thigh.

A shrill whistle, the kind you’d call a dog with, snaps your attention back to the moment. You press your back tight against the wall, sucking in a sharp breath to hold.

“Alright, darlin’, y’little goose-chase is over,” the Ghoul calls into the lot. Your heart begins to race. He sounds close. “I’m man enough to admit y’outfoxed me back at the yard, that was clever. But’cha got nowhere to slip to now,” he says, voice gradually growing louder. It’s not long before you can hear the crunch of his boots in the gravel.

You screw your eyes shut, steeling yourself with a silent breath before opening them again. He’ll have to circle the building to get where you are. The crunch of his boots is louder with each step. If he keeps yapping, it’ll be even easier to track the moment he moves out of eyesight of the window you’re hiding under, and you’ll be able to creep out to get behind him. Your grip on your pistol flexes, finger poised off the trigger.

The footsteps outside grow quiet enough that you can no longer hear them over the thundering of your heart. He hasn’t said anything, but you give it an extra few seconds to be safe, holding your breath as you gingerly lift out of your crouch, careful to keep your head beneath the window frame, eyes on the door across from you. Even if he sees you, you’ll have time enough to–

You’re jerked backwards suddenly by your jacket, a scream yanked out of you as you’re pulled against the window, knocking into it.

“There y’are,” he says through his teeth, hauling you up to your feet. Fuck, he faked you out with his steps. He holds you against the window, the edge of it biting into your back, his fist curled tightly in the collar of your jacket. “Give it up, darlin’. Y’all mine now,” he coos, his voice a sinister rasp at your ear. 

Out of desperation, you drop your pistol and throw your arms up, slipping out of your jacket and stumbling forward onto your hands and knees. Your boots skid on the floor as you scramble to your feet, launching into a run. You look over your shoulder just in time to see him vaulting in through the window, scaring you into running faster.

Where you intend to run is a problem to be solved as you go.

Unfortunately for you, the Ghoul is a step ahead. Gunfire startles you halfway out of your skin, but it’s the sign that falls in your path that stops you in your tracks. You look up and see a woven cable swaying, frayed from where the crazy son of a bitch managed to shoot it clean apart. You gear up to bolt to the left, but it’s already too late. The tell-tale hiss of a rope whipping through the air is your only warning before the lasso tightens around your arms and sternum, one sharp yank pulling you off your feet and down onto your back.

The world spins. You let out a soft groan, moving to roll onto your side, but he keeps you from it with a hardy pull, gathering the rope in his hands as he walks to you.

The Ghoul lets out a low whistle, his shadow falling over you. “Close, but no cigar, sweetheart,” he drawls, crouching over you. 

Disoriented, you stare at his upside down face. He’s got his head tilted, lips parted in a crooked sneer of a smile. His eyes are dark enough that you can see yourself in them, glinting with predatory glee. You can’t hide the trill of excitement that runs through you over being looked at like that. He clicks his tongue.  

“N’aw, don’t you look plumb tuckered,” he says, voice laced with condescending sweetness. “No rest for the wicked, m’afraid,” he says, slipping his hands under your arms and hauling you up to your feet.

“You could’ve killed me,” you rasp, throat scorched by the dry desert air.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he deflects, amused. “Y’all in one piece, ‘ain’t’cha?” His breath is a warm tickle on your neck. With the rope tight across your sternum, arms pinned to your sides, he slides his gloved hand up your thigh, over your hip. His fingers tap along as he does, tickling your ribs, cupping your breast before sliding all the way up to your throat. 

The barest hint of his lips brushes the spot just behind your ear, the feeling so faint you could have made it up entirely. You shiver, pulling sharply away, but he pulls you right back in, the worn leather of his glove soft around your neck, his grip firm. 

“Mmhm, seem perfectly intact t’me,” he says, giving your throat a steadying squeeze. “No need t’put up a fight, angel. Y’comin’ with me either way.”

This time he presses his scarred lips properly to your skin, the feel of them warm and wet. Wanting. You swallow the lump in your throat, clench your thighs against the heat building between them. 

“Let go of me,” you say, fighting to put conviction in it. 

“No can do,” he says, his breath prickling goosebumps from your scalp to your thighs. “I’ve struck the motherlode with you.”

 The rope is tied low and tight enough that you can’t elbow him or shoulder your way free. Impulsively, you move to kick at his leg, but he outmaneuvers you, catching your kick with his boot and spinning you around so suddenly you gasp.

“Oohh, y’ve got fire,” he says, lips pulled thin in a devilish smile. “I’m gonna enjoy breakin’ you.” Something hard presses into your rib, and you don’t need to look down to know it’s the muzzle of his revolver. He draws the hammer back into place with a distinctive click. 

“Why don’t you be a good li’l captive and mosey on ahead?” He says, turning you until the gun is pressed into your lower back. You suppress a shudder. That’s when the world suddenly goes black, the press of the gun briefly vanishing while fabric is pulled tight over your eyes.

Wherever he’s taking you, he wants it to be a surprise.

The Ghoul walks you at gunpoint. He keeps the rope between you taut, the barrel of his gun pressed firmly to your back. The venture there is quiet, your gait tense with anticipation. A sick little thrill runs through you every time he yanks the rope or gives you a deep jab with his gun. There’s pleasure in his voice when he tells you, “Mind your step, sweetness.”

He knows precisely the effect he has on you, even if it took him time and a half to believe it.

His knuckles dig into your back as his fingers hook over the rope, holding it like a harness as you descend a flight of stairs. He catches you when you stumble on the last step, but it still startles you.

“A warning would have been nice,” you say, turning your head blindly, angling to try and get any glimpse of your surroundings from beneath the blindfold.

“Apologies,” he drawls, not sounding very sorry at all. He nudges you forward with his gun. “I like watchin’ you struggle.”

“Yeah, you make that very–” A hard tug on the rope cuts you off and stops you in your tracks. The rope comes loose after that, full circulation returning to your hands in a rush that makes them tingle. The Ghoul’s steps resonate in the room–it sounds large, mostly empty–as he walks away from you. You stay still for a hesitant moment, head jerking at the sound of something scraping across the floor towards you.

“Awwh, ain’t you sweet, waitin’ for permission,” he says, making you flush. You quickly reach up and pull the blindfold from your eyes, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room. 

It looks like a cleared out storage facility of some kind, with cement support beams lined up in a row down the center of the room, the walls lined with ransacked steel shelving. There’s a wire frame bed braced against one of the beams, heaped haphazardly with some pillows and blankets. 

The Ghoul sits on a rusty wrought iron chair in front of you, staring up from beneath the wide brim of his hat. From his thigh, he has his revolver fixed on you. 

“Atta girl,” he says as the blindfold hits the ground. “Now take off the rest.”

The low resonance of his voice easily commands the room. You swallow the lump in your throat, glancing down the dark barrel of his gun. Biting your tongue to keep yourself from showing too much excitement, you hurriedly reach for your–

The gunshot is deafening in the echoing expanse of the room, drowning out your scream. Already high on your own anticipation, the shot of adrenaline that goes through you with the startle nearly knocks you off your feet. 

His gun smokes in the wake of the shot that narrowly missed your reaching hand.

“Slow,” he tells you, cocking the hammer once again with his thumb.

The pound of your heart is rivaled only by the aching throb between your thighs. Breathing shallowly, you keep your eyes trained on him as you–slowly, this time–reach for your belt, pouches shifting as you unbuckle it. You lay it carefully on the ground, mindful of the treasures you acquired at the gas station, before you kick off each boot.

His gaze is heavy on you all the while, eyes dark and attentive to your every move. Your focus is on the tip of his gun, how it subtly follows along with your hands. You peel each layer off without taking your eyes from him, a shiver moving through you once your hands touch bare skin, purposefully sliding them down your hips, your legs, and then moving them slowly back up as you stand back up, stepping out of the garments pooled on the floor.

He tilts his gun sideways and beckons you forward with it, tipping his head back, dark eyes tracking your every move as you approach him. One at a time, he spreads his legs. “On y’knees, darlin’.” You obey, sinking down–slowly, he told you slow–onto your knees between his legs, bringing yourself to eye level with his gun. The cement floor feels harsh against your bare skin.

“Y’got my gun dirty runnin’ me out into the wastes like that,” he chides, leaning forward, pressing his gun to your sternum. With agonizing slowness, he drags the muzzle up through the valley between your breasts, to the notch beneath your throat, pressing into it briefly. He continues up, the metal cool against your burning skin, though not by much. He hooks the barrel under your chin and tips your head back.

“Clean it for me,” he says, pushing it between your lips.

While you open your mouth too readily for the game at hand, he doesn’t protest. The taste of the gun is bitter and metallic, but what strikes you most is the black powder residue. It’s charred with a sharp tang. A moan escapes you for the way he pushes it deeper, forcing your lips wider apart.

“Don’t be shy. Give ‘er a good spit shine, sweetheart,” he encourages, pulling the gun back only to push it deeper yet. You comply, welcoming the slide of it deeper, pressing your tongue into the grooves on the underside, your eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. “Good,” he says, voice rough with the effect you’re having on him.

Hands braced on your own bare thighs, your nails bite dull little crescents into your skin. The rock of your body is entirely subconscious, your eyelids fluttering. It’s easy to lose yourself to the work at hand, to luxuriate in the weight of his gaze on you while he uses you, fucking your mouth with the full barrel of his gun. He’s so committed to the fantasy, you can’t help but buy into it wholly.

By the time he pulls the gun away your chin is spit slick and your tongue is tingling where you’d been pressing it to the barrel. He gives an appreciative whistle while inspecting the wet shine of his gun. “That’s better,” he says, gaze sliding to you. He stands, grabbing a thick handful of your hair to haul you up to your feet with him. The noise you make is humiliating. Needy. His answering grin is wicked.

“Time t’oil it,” he says, voice frayed at the edges. He doesn’t let that trace of impatience impact his movements any. He walks you to the bed with that same loose devil-may-care swagger, assured that he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece. 

The mattress’ metal coils groan with your weight as he tosses you onto the bed, standing at the edge of it. The bed stands taller than most, bringing your pelvis parallel to his when you’re on your knees. He grabs your thigh and yanks your ass up into the air, smoothing his hand over the swell of it. He gives a sharp little slap to your rear that wrings a gasp out of you. The way he smooths his leather clad hand over the smarting spot afterwards almost feels like an apology, even if he’s really just admiring his handiwork.

“Spread,” he orders simply. You do so eagerly, widening the splay of your knees, folding your arms to rest your head on. “Look at you,” he breathes with genuine wonder, gripping your ass cheek and holding it firm while he inspects you. You can already feel what he’s looking at, how wet you are from his teasing. “Y’fuckin’ drippin’ for me.”

A shiver rolls through your whole body at the feel of his gun against your inner thigh sliding slowly upwards. Your hips give a reflexive little buck at the first touch of that warm barrel against your soaked cunt, your clit throbbing so hard it aches. “Don’t move,” he tells you. He sounds wrecked. He moves it back and forth, teasing your clit with just the muzzle of it before drawing back, and your thighs tremble with the effort to keep yourself still when all you want is to chase that precious relief.

The hiss of his zipper is the most thrilling noise you’ve ever heard. The gun disappears from between your thighs.

“Up,” he tells you, taking a rough hold of your shoulder and yanking you upright before you have the chance to comply. He holds you still while he lines himself up, the familiar thick head of his cock grinding through the wet slide of you, the length of him rubbing from taint to clit. “Y’made this big mess just from suckin’ down my gun? Christ alive, darlin’. You’re somethin’ else,” he says through his teeth. The ruin in his voice makes it feel like praise, and that feels good.

Almost as good as the slow burn of his cock pushing into you, the sound of it obscenely loud and wet. You tip your head back against his shoulder and reach back over your own, grabbing at his coat, holding onto him for dear life while he sinks deeper and deeper, pulling you back until your bare ass falls flush against him. Feeling his clothing against your bare body intensifies that intoxicating feeling of vulnerability. Never in your life has the thrill of danger been safe to explore.

Not until him.

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting almost as soon as he’s bottomed out. 

“Fffuck,” you exhale, eyes screwed tightly shut. You start to lean forward, but he catches you by the throat, pinning you back against his chest at the same time he fires his gun, shocking your eyes wide open. Your body goes rigid, cunt seizing up so tightly around him he hisses out a breath.

“C’mon, little bunny,” he whispers in a vicious grit, pressing the still-warm muzzle firmly against your temple. “Bounce for me.” He cocks the hammer back, the smell of black powder filling your senses. 

You nod fervently, lifting up on your knees and using the mattress to bounce yourself on his cock, gravity bringing you down into every one of his hard thrusts. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, sighing his pleasure in strained little sounds. His hand slides down your throat to your chest, cupping your breast and squeezing, thumbing your nipple until you shudder.

“Close,” you moan, fist twisting in the fabric of his coat, your other hand clutching the wrist of the hand he’s fondling you with. “Please.”

His only response is to slide his hand down further, fingers slipping between your thighs. His middle finger finds your clit first, the friction making your hips jerk out of rhythm. He persists, fingering your clit in smooth circles while he fucks you hard.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, his breath hot and wet on your neck. “All that fight’s gone now, ain’t it? Just a needy li’l thing beggin’ t’cum.” You’re so close you’re starting to shake, breath caught in your throat. “Go on, angel. Lemme hear how pretty you can beg.”

His fingers slow enough that your ascension falters. “Please!” You rasp immediately, squeezing his wrist, begging in every way you know how to. “Please, m’so close, please make me cum, please,” you plead, voice pitchy, your thoughts empty of everything but pleasure. He’s fucking you hard, chasing his own release just as fervently.  

Just like that his touch returns to full force, deftly working your clit until your pleasure crests and your pleas turn to cries. Your orgasm hits like an earthquake, a sudden eruption that renders you silent, your lips falling open on a noiseless scream. Your body locks up like a vice, euphoria turning your vision white and emptying your mind of all thought while pleasure cascades through you in hot liquid waves.

He doesn’t stop, though his thrusts slow. He fucks you deeply through your orgasm, savoring every quiver around his cock while he uses you. You don’t hear him come, but you feel it, the deep rush of heat that he empties into the core of you, his body going still against yours. Your whole body shudders and you exhale a broken little noise, dizzy from the magnitude of it all. Everything around you feels bleary, your vision fading in and out. For a moment, you feel as though you might float away from your body entirely, your consciousness barely holding on, but the feeling of him pressed against your back, holding you to him, grounds you.

He moves the gun from your temple and holsters it, adjusting his grip so that he can ease you down onto your stomach, slipping from between your legs. You pant hot puffs of air into the bedding, your vision blurry at the edges.

“Coop,” you call, signifying the end of your little game of pretend.

“M’right here,” he soothes, his bare hands upon you not a moment later. There’s a marked difference in the way he touches you now, a subtle tenderness that he’d forced out of his touch for the sake of play. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it until now, feeling it as if for the first time. 

He slides into bed next to you, having shed his gloves, coat and bandolier. You find the strength to slip an arm around him, clinging despite the tremble in your limbs. The next several seconds–moments, maybe hours, you can’t be sure–pass by in a haze of touch.

He kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips. He makes you aware of your entire body, grounding you with sweeping touches to every part of your body. It’s an intoxicating intimacy that leaves you feeling warm and drunk, still hungry for more.

 At some point Cooper gets the blanket over you, skirting his scarred fingers up and down your arm beneath it. The adrenaline crash that follows your orgasm is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, leaving you exhausted on a level beyond physical.

“Still with me?” Cooper asks after a time, fingertips tapping idle patterns on your skin as if to call you back to your body. “Mhm… Intense,” you say, the lone word slurred by your lazy tongue.

“Warned you,” he gives back, sounding nearly as ruined. His voice is deeper than usual, thoroughly frayed at the edges. It’s true, he had warned you that you were playing with fire. It’s unclear how much of that had been play, and how much was just him. Still, it had been… thrilling. Amazing. Everything you’d hoped it would be. 

“How ‘bout it, darlin’, do I scare you yet?” He asks, making it sound like an inevitability. He must believe it is.

You sigh a low hum, pretending to give the matter great thought. “Mmm… Mm-mm. Not one little bit,” you say, the words hardly legible.

“Shucks,” he says simply, feigning something like disappointment.

“Why’re you so determined to scare me off?” You ask, adjusting where your head lay on his shoulder so that you can look up at him. You’ve grown accustomed to his unique silhouette, but more than that, you’ve started to figure out what it is that makes him handsome. He’s got a wide chin and a fine jawline, and on the rare occasions you see it, a charming smile.

Much of it is in his eyes. They never fail to make your heart stutter.

“A saner question would be why you’re so determined t’stay,” he counters, those very eyes dropping to meet yours. You can’t help but smile, which–as per usual–catches him just a touch off guard.

“I got a thing for pretty men,” you say, caught up in your own musings.

His expression flattens. “Very funny,” he says, and you realize he thinks you’re mocking him.

“Hey, I mean it. I was just thinking about how handsome you are,” you say, reaching up to touch his jaw.

“There’s a specific kind’a philia for finding corpses handsome, y’know,” he says, though in his afterglow the words lack their usual sharp cynicism. They come to him more like habit than anything else.

“You’re not a corpse, Cooper,” you tell him firmly, cupping his cheek in your palm. “You don’t need to keep living like one.”

He considers you in silence for a long moment. With the back of his knuckles, he brushes your cheek. There it is again; that deep sadness that sometimes appears in his eyes when he looks at you. As if he’s mourning something.

“What?” You whisper. “Why do you–”

He kisses you, swallowing the words clean off your lips. He takes your face between his hands and kisses you, kisses you, kisses you through your meager protests until your lips move with his and you sink back down into the warmth of it. He grows progressively more relentless with it, stealing your breath until you’re forced to break away, turning your head for air.

“You can’t kiss your way out of every–”

“I know,” he interrupts you, lifting his head to level you with a hard stare. “I know, alright? But it’ll come on my terms, in my time, yeah?”

You stare, pinned by the weight in his expression. After a beat, you nod, feeling dazed by both the onslaught and his words. It’s the only time he’s acknowledged that there is something, which you suppose is progress. “Okay,” you say softly, and then again more firmly, “Okay.”

His expression softens, taking in the look of you before he kisses you again. You reciprocate, pressing into his lips with the weight of your conviction, willing him to feel how much you really do mean it. 

“Thank you for today,” you murmur, settling back down against him. “I never thought that I’d be able to… do something like that. And live,” you say, adding the last bit with a rueful smile. “I feel safe with you.”

You wait for some kind of dismissive or self-deprecating remark from him, or even a sly jab at you and your sanity, but neither come. You glance up and find him staring at you, thoughtful and–if your eyes don’t deceive you–a little sentimental.

“I don’t make promises,” he tells you, sounding resigned. “But for what it’s worth, I’d never want t’do somethin’ I thought might hurt you.”

“You’re sweet,” you say, that same sentimentality slipping into your own voice. If not a bit ominous.

“Not really,” he replies, adjusting against the bedding, his eyes falling shut. “Y’standards are just too low.”

You sigh, closing your eyes with an incredulous little smile. “Shut up.”

The two of you drift into comfortable silence, his fingers idly traipsing the contours of your body. It’s like he’s memorizing the feel of you, hyper-aware that these intimate moments together are stolen. You reciprocate, seeking out what bare skin you can with gentle brushes of your fingers. He’s never admitted as much, but you’ve long suspected he struggles with pain. He’s rarely ever unclothed, and sometimes you see him wince when he goes too long between hits of those vials.

Cooper started living on borrowed time long before he met you, but it doesn’t stop you from hoping that he might someday see something more permanent in you. With you.

In the meantime, you’ll make the most of every second.

[ladyymiisa]

MONEY, MONEY, MONEY!

summary: your loving boyfriend who spoils you rotten!

tags: hawks x fem!reader, barista!reader, fem pronouns used for reader, fluff

author’s note: hi sexies!!! i literally can’t stop thinking about hawks spoiling his gf god i want him so bad

it’s no secret that hawks is rich. being a hero has not only given him popularity but also a paycheque that would make anyone’s eyes pop out if they saw the numbers on it. like, this man’s credit card is black. that’s how rich he is. and you’d think he’d try to display it, right? maybe by driving a really expensive car, like a ferrari or something, or by only wearing designer clothes.

haha, wrong.

for as wealthy as he is, hawks rarely spoils himself. perhaps he feels selfish to have all of this, despite how hard he’s worked for it. he tells himself that it’s because he’s too busy to actually relish in everything that he owns, that he has more important matters to focus on, but a part of him knows that they’re just excuses to make up for how hung up he is on the past.

the past of his criminal, alcoholic father and emotionally distant mother, the past of his abuse and how neglected he was. because of it, he can’t bring himself to actually enjoy the things others would kill for.

at least until he meets you.

he meets you and suddenly he finds a new purpose for his money, other than keeping it in his bank account to collect dust.

to spoil you, of course!

to me, hawks is more of a giver rather than a receiver and i will die on this hill. he loves to pamper you, shower you in the most expensive gifts known to man and take you on the fanciest dates. from designer shoes to jewellery that would cost you three years worth of rent, this man makes it his life mission to ensure that you only get the best of the best.

and at first, it all seems like too much. you’re just an ordinary civilian working as a barista, nothing special. you don’t consider yourself someone worthy of being hawks’ object of affection, but hawks, sorry, keigo makes sure to put a stop to those silly thoughts immediately. besides the expensive gifts, he also shows you daily just how much you mean to him, which is more precious than any pair of diamond earrings he could ever gift you.

for as busy as he is, keigo never leaves you hanging, no matter how busy he is.

showing up on your balcony late at night with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand if he isn’t able to visit you during your day shift, or washing the dishes for you if you’re too tired are some of the ways in which he shows his love.

and you grow greedy because of it. everything be damned, you slowly turn into a spoiled princess and it’s all his fault.

do you feel guilty about it? maybe just a little. but only because you no longer shy away from asking keigo to buy you stuff.

oh, look! a perfume you’ve been eyeing for a while just became available online? all you have to do is bat your eyelashes prettily at him and next thing you know you have a small package waiting by your doorstep the following day.

your favourite makeup brand dropped a new collection? surely he won’t mind if you get every product available.

hm? you’re still working at that coffee shop? well, not anymore! keigo can’t possibly have his pretty baby working herself to death when he’s right there to ensure that you’re living as comfortably as possible. after all, there’s no need for you to work! your rent is taken care of by him and his credit card is basically yours, so don’t worry your pretty head about such silly things! he’s got you covered.

but in the end, it’s not those gifts that make you fall asleep with a smile on your face at night. it’s his love that has your heart fluttering inside your chest whenever he gives you that boyish grin of his, it’s his love that leaves your cheeks feeling sore after he says such a horrible joke that you can’t help but laugh at. and keigo makes sure to shower you in his love every single day. he is a pretty generous man after all.

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

heyy loveee !!

I don’t know if this is super weird, but yk what a hurricane shot is ? I was thinking maybe bartender!ellie giving a hurricane shot to reader. (and smut in bar bathroom maybe ??) hmm idk, js an idea!

What Can I Get For You, Cutie? (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Smut)

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut, slapping and consumption of alcohol

Words: 3501

It was all your friends idea. You didn’t even know what it was. But based on their unstoppable giggles you should have known. You made your way through the packed club, being waaay closer to people than you wanted to, before finally making it to the bar. You let out a sigh as you placed your hands on the countertop, as if to compose yourself. Despite the few shots you’ve taken before this the nerves still crept up on you. You eyed the girl you’ve been gushing over the whole night as she prepared a drink for a girl who barely looks old enough to get in. You found it odd and you couldn’t help but wonder if she got in thanks to a successful fake ID. But you soon shook the thought out of your head. Who are you to wonder about that? Are you the police? Your eyes went back to the bartender who worked her skilled hands behind the desk. Grabbing different utensils before neatly putting them back in place. Despite the busy and noisy environment she kept her focus, zeroing in on the cocktail glass in front of her. She’s experienced. You stretched over the countertop a little more, just so you could see her slender fingers grasping the tequila bottl-

“Hey, (y/n)!” was announced loudly behind you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. You jumped at the unexpected touch, but relaxed when you turned around to see Bailey, one of the people who forced you out tonight. Also, your best friend since middle school. It’s one of those friendships that would have never happened if you hadn’t met each other when you were 9. Growing up you kinda chose different paths in life, and if it wasn’t for you magically choosing the same collage you’re pretty sure you’d never see her again.

“Hey!” Bailey yelled, getting the gorgeous girl behind the bar’s attention. Her pretty emerald eyes made eye contact with your friend, almost making you jealous cause you wish you would have the pleasure of looking into them. “She wants to order once you’re done!” she said while pointing at you, giving away one of her charming smirks. You quickly got pulled out of your trance and widened your eyes in terror. “Nonononono!” you felt the embarrassment creeping up on you as you tried to waft away her hand. Somehow the thought of the pretty girl not knowing you'd ever existed seemed more pleasing than having your friend get her attention as if you're a kid who can´t make an order for themselves.

But the bartender looked you over before giving you a little smirk followed by a nod to assure she heard Bailey’s statement. You hid your face in your hands as you slowly hunched over the bar desk that smelled of spilled alcohol. You're pretty sure you're hair soaked up a worthy of $90 of drinks, but you couldn´t care less. The embarrassment of looking at the perfect girl after this interaction was way more horrible. Bailey just chuckled at your act. She knew you hated stuff like this, but she’s pretty sure you’ll thank her after. “Good luck, (y/n)” she whispered in your ear before giving you a friendly back dunk, harder than usual. “Ow!” you threw out as you looked back at her making her way to the rest of the group again.

“What can I get for you, cutie?” you turned around to be met with one of the pretties smiles you've ever seen. Even thought it´s used to drain your bank account you can´t help but feel a little giggly inside. She placed her hands on the worktop in front of her as she leaned in, waiting for your order. All while wearing that smirk that´d make you throw your credit card at her. You lost the ability to think for a second. If anyone asked for your name you're not sure you´d be able to give it. She´s even more gorgeous up close. Freckles decorated her face and the glimes of the décolletage behind the button up shirt. You sure got a thing for freckles, but the girls you've hooked up with before couldn´t even compare. Seeing all the things you couldn´t from the distance before would keep you busy for days. Being able to point out all the things that made her unique while combing your fingers through her shoulder-length, auburn hair would be the dream. She even got a cut in her eyebrow! Like the one every lesbian guide tells you to get. Except this one looks like a real scar, which makes it 10x hotter. You're willing to risk it all for a girl you don´t even know the name of.

“Hi” you nervously laughed, “I, uhm….I would like a….”. Ellie found you absolutely adorable as you stumbled over your words, while you wanted to bash your head open on the fucking desk in front of you! She made sure to keep a soft expression while patiently waiting for you to get your order out. She’s no new to nervous costumers, though she more often come across more cuddly people who has a hard time standing up by themselves. Patience is key when you have a costumer who’s having a hard time getting their words out. Little does she know her face is the exact reason you're stubbling over your words like a fucking moron. “…..a hurricane shot, please”.

Considering Ellie's been kinda wishing you’d come over and make an order all night she almost thought her mind was playing a trick on her. She payed attention to you pretty early. Whenever the bar was rather slow she’d steal a few glances at you. Searching the room for your cute face. Usually everyone in this type of surrounding looks kinda the same, but something about your body language caught Ellie's attention. She could bet money you're not the one who came up with the idea to come here. Your uncomfortable and displeased manner sure made Ellie crack a smile. You seemed so out of place and somehow that amused her. Despite not thinking you'd stay more than 30 minutes she still hoped you'd made an order. Just so she could get the chance to interact with you. So hearing you order that made her think you could read her mind. But you looked innocent enough to not mean it in that way.

Guys would usually order a hurricane shot when they thought the bartender was super hot. Probably a weird degrading kink or something. You had made it very clear you found the bartender really attractive from the second you laid your eyes on her. And your friends insisted on you taking the next order, specifically asking for said shot. You had never heard of it before, but you’re open to try anything. Ellie´s questionable expression made you think she hadn´t heard you over the blasting music. But before you could repeat your last sentence, an octave higher this time, she asked with a chuckle “Are you sure?"

You nodded, though your mind was hesitant. What the fuck could this be if even the bartender seems hesitant? A mixture of all their strongest liquor? Ellie lets out another chuckle as she shakes her head in disbelief, mumbling "As you wish". She placed a shot glass in front of you on the desk, effortlessly grabbing the vodka bottle to fill it up. Once she´s done she turns around to grab a water glass and fill it up from the tap. Your eyebrow frowned, but you assume you have to trust the progress. But the wrinkles remained when she placed the untouched glass of water beside the shot. "There you go!" Ellie announced, sliding the two glasses closer to you. The gears in your head were working hard. Is this it? A vodka shot and a useless glass of water? Or is this some type of inside joke? What am I suppose to do first? Drink the shot or the water? Or is it one of those submarine ones where you’re supposed to drop the shot into the glass? Then what’s the point of the shot?

You reached over and grabbed the small glass with the strong liquor. As you did you notice Ellie making her way around the bar, on her way to....you. You widened your eyes and quickly looked down at your lap. You could feel her presence beside you, but you didn’t dare look her way. Thought you did pay attention to the black, beat up converse right beside your barstool. An awkward silence took over. Despite the loud music you could hear the cartoon crickets. Ellie waited another few seconds before breaking the silence “Sooo…are you gonna do it?”. “Ehm….I-I actually don’t-.....I don´t know what to do“ you finished with an awkward laugh. Why did you even get an order you knew nothing about? This is the last time you'll agree on something Bailey says.

Ellie was a little surprised by your statement, but it reassured her prediction you hadn’t come up with the order yourself. Someone told you to. A quick glance over her shoulder left no questions about it. Your friend group could barely contain their laughter as they watched the interaction between you two. Ellie shifted her attention back on you again. Your unsure eyes eyeing your recent order made you look so lost, so….innocent.

“Ellie!” both of you shot your head in the direction of the girl’s voice. “Hurry up! You need to come back and take up more orders” her stressed out coworker complained. Ellie? So that’s her name. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on it” she replied with a not so joyful tone, but it quickly switch when she turned back to you. "Do you, uhm......do you want me to tell you what it is?" Ellie could feel her usual confidence slowly wash off. Something about you didn´t just make her feel hot. It made her feel...nervous. She felt too much sympathy for you to just slap you across the face without warning. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to not do it! To just give you the shot as it is and claim you've got a hurricane shot. But considering your friends close eye on you she didn’t want to be called in by her boss and be yelled at for not doing a correct order. She’s here to do her job, take up orders and make sure the costumers are satisfied.

“Ellie! Just do it!” the other bartender once again interrupted, stressing Ellie even more. She let out a sign before handing you the shot glass, guiding you to take it. You do as informed, a little shocked at the touch of her skin on yours. It took everything in you not to make a face when the strong liquor hits your tastebuds, but you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Ellie. Not more than you already have.

Ellie hesitantly grabbed the glass of water on the counter, shaking more than she should. She gave you a quick glance before throwing it your way. The cold water hits you right in the face, ruining any chances of your makeup still looking good considering the sweaty bar atmosphere. The couple sitting behind you turned around after feeling some of the droplets hitting them too. You let out a surprised gasp, louder than it would have been if you could have controlled it. But you didn’t have much time to think before you felt a sudden sting on your left cheek. Despite Ellie holding back as her hand meets your rosy face it still was a proper slap. And the water didn’t make it any better, just adding onto the burning feeling.

Oddly enough it felt like the whole bar had stopped at the sound of the smack. Of course that wasn’t the case, the music was still loud enough to be heard 6 blocks away. But you’re sure a few people turned their heads to look. You on the other hand were in complete shock. Your jaw was hanging low, eyes looking like they might fall out any second. And Ellie’s face was no different, though she tried to keep it professional. You were both completely frozen. You raised your hand and softly graced your abused cheek. The sting made you flinch a little, and you’re sure Ellie saw it cause her eyes switched from shock to utter pity. But before she was able to reach out and help you whip away the mascara that’s currently making streaks down your cheeks the same girl who’s been stressing her grabbed her by the arm and janked her back behind the bar. Thought Ellie’s eyes never let you. Baliey came running down with one of the other girls to help you down from the barstool. Ellie couldn’t hear what she told you, but based on her expression she seems thrilled, in comparison to you. A lump in her stomach started to form and a huge wave of guilt hit her like a wave. But she’s quickly forced back into the stressful tempo of being a bartender.

The leather seat felt nice as Bailey crashed you down beside her on her previous spot. Another one of the girls, Nathalie, come running with a bundle of paper towels. Bailey grabbed them one by one as she tried to dry you up without having too much of your makeup coming off with it. While the third girl, Lindsay, tried to dry up the remains of the water from your hair and clothes. “So……” Bailey began “Did you like it?”. You gave her a death stare that was enough to draw out an amused laugh from her. But matter of fact the wet stain in your underwear has been bothering you ever since Ellie’s hand left your cheek. But you couldn’t let Bailey know that. “Next time, don’t bring me into one of your weird kinks” you playfully said while rolling your eyes. Lindsay chuckled while throwing another crunched up paper towel in the near by trash can. Bailey smirked “But you thought she was hot, right?”. You nodded your head, looking up as she tried to correct the smudge eyeshadow on your lower lash line.

When the girls was done helping you to look as representable as possible with the circumstances everyone went back to their previous conversation. Almost like they completely forgot about the event that had just taken place. But you sure didn´t. How could you? The hottest girl you've ever seen had just slapped you across your face. You´d never tried anything like this before, but if Ellie were the one doing it you'd gladly take another round.

You made sure to sneak a few glances at the bar, not long enough to catch any of your friends attention. You could see Ellie effortlessly move around behind the desk, looking like she was built for the job. Her coworker whispered something in her ear that made her burst out in laughter. Oh my god, she’s perfect. As she continued to put the clean drink glasses in the rack her eyes locked with...you. You quickly turned your head towards your friend group, pretending as if you´d been apart of their conversation the whole time. Ellie chuckled for herself at your cute act. She couldn´t believe you still had problem looking her in the eyes after your latest exchange. The guilt was still there, though it looks like you’d repaired pretty well. She turned around to grab another batch of the glasses from the dishwasher that Sophie, her coworker for the night, had brought over to her. But when she spun around she´s met with a familiar pair of eyes that had issues looking into hers.

You nervously played with your fingers under the desk as you tired to not embarrass yourself any further. "I, um.....can I have another one?" you asked with a hesitation. Ellie smirked "Another what?". She was 99% sure she knew what you referred to, but she wanted you to say it. You took a deep breath, pushing away any nagging thoughts "A hurricane shot. Can I get another hurricane shot?". She could see her imprint starting to form on your chubby cheek. Ellie gave you another smirk before saying "How about you save your money and hold on for second?". You gave her a confused look but mumbled a "Okay". She nodded as if to reassure herself, "Good! I'll be right back!". You observed as Ellie mumbled something to Sophie before making her way to the back. Still confused you tried to build an idea of what she was up to.

After a few minutes a pair of hands grabbed onto your shoulders, making you jump. You thought it was either Bailey who had spotted you and now knew you had lied about going to the bathroom, or a creep who tried to make a move on you. But neither of them were right, cause the face that met you when you turned around belong to the bartender who´s got you wrapped around her finger. "Hi" she said while giving you another one of her charming smiles. God, just take my card and clear it already! "Hey" you answered with a nervous giggle. She didn´t waste another second before grabbing your wrist and drag you past the dance floor. She tried to avoid mixing DNA with the dedicated dancers that filled the floor.

You looked down at her hand firmly holding onto your wrist and saw a tattoo wrapped around her forearm that you somehow hadn´t noticed before. “Wait, where are we going?” you confusedly asked while trying to keep up with her footsteps. She glanced back at you before answering “You wanted to get slapped again, right? Or did you like the taste of the vodka shot so much you had to get another one?”. You made a face at the memory of the aftertaste that Ellie was able to see before turning her attention forward again. "No, you're right" you admitted while feeling your cheeks starting to heat up. “Right. So I’m just doing my job” she shrugged. Your heart skipped a beat at the realization. "Wait, wait, wait. I-I don´t even know your name". Lie. You sucked up that information the second her coworker said it the first time. But you didn't want to admit you'd payed such close attention to it. "Ellie” she said nonchalantly “My name is Ellie”. “Well, nice to meet you, Ellie. My name is-“ “(y/n). I know” Ellie interrupt. You were confused “Your friend said it pretty loud. I’m not sure anyone in this club missed it”. You laughed, she’s pretty funny too.

As the toilets came in view you could feel your nerves starting to freak out. Ellie opened the door to one of the unoccupied toilets while gesturing with her hand for you to go in “Ladies first”. You made your way into the cramped up booth, but before you got the chance to open your mouth Ellie spun you around and crashed her lips on yours. She quickly pulled away and a deep shade took over her face "I´m sorry, I´ve been wanting to do that all night, but maybe you-" you put your lips on hers to make her shut up. You found it rather amusing how you were the one stumbling over your words, but now she's the one being nervous. "I´ve wanted this too, Ellie. I´ve been eyeing you this whole night" you reasured her. "Yeah, I´ve noticed that" she added with a cocky smirk as her hand slide up your skirt.

You playfully hit her on the shoulder "I´m not the one slapping people in the face!". "You were the one ordering it!" Ellie quickly defended herself. "Yeah, yeah" you mumbled "Now come over here. I wanna see what those talented fingers can do". “Yeah? Oh, I’ll show you just how talented they are” she added while sliding her hand underneath your underwear. A cocky smile took over her face when her fingers met your mess “You really like being slapped, huh?”. You rolled your eyes and hit her on the shoulder again. She didn’t waist any more time before slowly sliding in her middle finger in your wet hole. You let out a satisfied moan, not believing this is actually happening. Ellie pays close attention to your blissful face as she moves her finger in a steady pace. “One more. Please, one more”, she quickly lined up another one of her fingers to your entrance before pushing it in. The stretch was everything you looked for, so when Ellie’s knuckles meet your wet folds your eyes uncontrollably rolled to the back of your head.

You took a steady grip on the color of her white shirt as she continued to slide her slender fingers into you. “Fuck, Ellie!” You moaned, letting your head hit the graffiti covers wall. Your jaw was slack as all sorts of sounds left your mouth for anyone in the bathroom to hear. And that’s when it happened. A slap to your left cheek made your eyes shot right open to land on Ellie’s concentrated face. The same hand then grabbed a hold on your face as she force you closer to hers. “Who knew you were such a slut, huh? Getting this needy from a hurricane shot” she mumbled close to your face. You let out a whine before desperately grabbing onto her outwashed, black jeans. But her hand leaves your face to stop you from pulling down her zipper. “I don’t have much time, pretty. I need to get back out there. So let’s focus on you. I know you’ve been uncomfortable for long enough with such a mess in your panties”.

[thatsdemko]

the devils on my shoulders - c.sainz & l.norris

threes company masterlist

masterlist

part two - coming soon

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader & Carlos sainz x fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + mentions of oral ( f + m receiving) + plot twist at the end

the tasteful dinner in front of you, is rather boring.

the cocktails and small conversations are yawn worthy, as you sit in between your father and his business partners.

they toast to another successful weekend. another yawn escapes your lips.

you’re so thankful your eyes catch something more entertaining than the snotty rich business men.

a classy pair of gentlemen dressed in suits. one dapper in black and the other in blue. one with curls and the other with soft thick brown locks.

you feel your heart pounding out of your chest. their enigma pulls you in. curiosity strikes, as you shift upward in your seat and excuse yourself.

you brush past the two gentlemen. your hand lingers on the elder looking one, and when you walk past you make sure you give him a quick glance over your shoulder.

you’ve reeled him in.

“she’s hot.”

you step up to the bar. reaching into your purse, it’s fake out move, he swoops in and slams his card down. you had no intentions of paying, either one of them wouldn’t have wasted the time, and it seems the younger one stepped up to the plate first.

“who are you?” he shifts towards you as the bartender is off with his credit card. no introductions, no nothing. he’s straight to the point.

“what do you want me to be?” you tilt your head upward to eye him when his mate steps up beside him. the one you original made a move on.

he looks over at the elder one and back at you, “what do you want from us?”

—

Carlos and Lando are their names. Formula 1 drivers are their professions. you’ve seemed to land yourself another rich snotty man men.

they were a duo— at least claimed to be a duo.

they weren’t a package deal, you visited one more often than the other but it never meant you were exclusively seeing that lad.

he’s dressed in bright orange, the other in bright red, as they enter your hotel lobby. it doesn’t take long for them to spot you, you’re in the corner booth cheering another successful weekend. that yawn escapes your lips.

“come on,” Carlos gestures for lando to follow into the hotel restaurant. they take a seat at the bar directly across from your table. they have a perfect view you in your tight mini black dress.

from the corner of your eye you see the two of them seated at the bar. both accompanied by drinks in front of them. Carlos is talking to the bartender, his index finger points at your table and you feel the heat instantly rush to your cheeks.

you can’t make out what’s being said, but when the bartender walks away from Carlos you catch him flash you a wink and settle into his seat.

“excuse me, miss,” your waitress taps your shoulder making you turn towards her. the chatter of the business men die down to hear what she has to say, “those two gentlemen sent you this drink.”

she sets the napkin down first and you recognize the handwriting on the bottom of the tiny cloth. it’s the room number that lando was staying in. Carlos must’ve wrote it down for you, like he thinks you haven’t been in that room enough times this weekend.

“tell them thank you.” you say quickly pocketing the napkin into your purse and sip on the rather strong cocktail.

your eyes flicker over at the two of them, cheeky smiles on both of their lips you’ll make them pay for.

—

“happy for you to join us.” lando’s bright smile is the first thing you see when he opens the door. you want to wipe that smile clean from the embarrassment those two gave you.

“you realize the men I was with are my dads business partners and potential clients? you could’ve got him fired!” you push past lando to find Carlos cozied up in the hotel bed, your missing pair of expensive lacy pants lay beside him neatly folded.

“ay, we’re sorry, amor.” Carlos sits up from the bed, his hand gently cups your shoulder, thumb brushing your exposed skin of your collarbone, “it won’t happen again.” his smile is sincere, and when you feel landos hand against your back you see the same look on his face.

you sigh, allowing your stiff muscles to relax, “you two are the devils on my shoulders.”

lando chuckles from beside you. he moves to the bed and tosses you the pair of panties, “you left these at Carlos’ place.”

“no I’m pretty sure I left them with you?”

“you don’t remember that night?” a smile is pulled on lando’s lips. you back away from Carlos carefully before plopping your body down onto the bed. your eyes scan the two boys trying to recall that night. there was too many nights with them.

“lando, help remind her of that night, will you?”

lando sits in the chair in the corner of the room, his hands are placed on the arms of each chair, “well we first started out here.” he wiggles his eyebrows, “you claimed it not good enough for yourself.”

you feel a fire against your skin. you can begin to recall some of the memories of that night.

“this isn’t big enough for the both of us.” you whispered in between kisses. your fingers work undoing the buttons on his shirt, “we need to move.”

“don’t forget me.” Carlos’ hands roam your body. he pulls you close into his chest, hands creeping upward towards your breasts, “did you think I’d let him have you all to himself?”

he presses his thumb gently against your nipple beginning to make circle motions with it, “so pretty you are.”

your body molds against his, butt pressing against his hardness in his pants. a whine escapes your lips while you tilt your head upward, lips sucking on his collarbone.

Carlos chuckles to himself making your head snap in his direction. he’s leaned against the wall beside lando, “what’s funny?” you press, eyebrow’s furrowed together his laughter stops.

“nothing, just remembering an important detail.”

“which is?”

“how you sucked his dick in front of me. took like the good girl you are.”

your back straightens up, the hairs on your arms stand tall. how could such filth be spit out of his mouth? you must’ve been in such a euphoric state to forget sucking landos dick or Carlos eating you out. they seemed to enjoy sharing you more than you would’ve thought.

“so what do you two want from me?” you ask. the question comes back in full circle from the very first night you met them both. the night that seemed to change everything.

Carlos looks at lando with a devilish grin, lando mocks him before turning back to you, “you into foursomes?”

“you boys and your games,” you tsk them shaking your head. it doesn’t occur to you until you stop and think about what they’re asking that they are being serious. they aren’t smirking or laughing like it’s rather a funny hypothetical. it’s very much a real question.

“what do you have in mind?”

tags: @softtdaisy @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @ophcelia

[vivalas-vega]

shot through the heart / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

i guess i only know how to write and post at 3 am lol -- I saw a few prompts on a post i reblogged a few days ago and got inspired to write this !!! i hope you all like it and as always let me know what you think !!! 

shot through the heart / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

add yourself to my taglist

prompts:  “looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” - “you’re pretty” “you’re drunk”

word count: 3.5k

warnings: drinking, language, a lil makeout sesh

The energy in the air was infectious, nothing but laughter and love filling the space while the alcohol flowed freely. Your feet ached beneath you as you danced and sang along to an early 2000’s classic, smirking as your teammates watched through impressed eyes as you seamlessly balanced on one foot to unfasten your heel before switching to the other without missing a word or a beat and tossing them nowhere in particular. You took Rooster’s outstretched hands and swayed your hips in rhythm with his, you weren’t even sure what you were all doing at this point could be considered singing, but you were doing it anyway, spurred by the open bar and overwhelming joy in the room.

“Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got, I’m still I’m still Jenny from the Block!” you sang around your laughter as Rooster passed you to Phoenix and from the corner of your eye you could see the man of the hour and his bride coming to join you. Mindful of her train you twirled her around in circles before she tried to drop it low the best she could in her form fitting gown. 

“Careful, Mrs. Machado, don’t tempt me,” you giggled as you passed her back to her now-husband, slipping away from the group and making your way to the bar where Penny was sitting alongside Maverick.

“Not tending bar and yet here I find you,” you teased as you ordered another paloma.

“You all wore me out, I don’t know how any of you are still dancing,” she laughed and Maverick nodded in agreement.

“Oh, can’t handle a little dancing, Mav? Thought you were better than that,” you shot back and he laughed.

“Just you wait,” he warned before you went back to the floor, standing on the fringe as you watched your friends… no, your family having the time of their lives with the biggest smile on your face. 

“Taking a breather?” A voice said suddenly beside you and you looked up to find Hangman, that megawatt smile never leaving his face once today. 

“Refueling, I made this playlist and there are some good ones coming up,” you said before taking a hearty sip of your drink. 

“Hey, you can only take half-credit,” he said, narrowing his eyes down at you and you just waved your hand in his direction.

“You contributed nothing but distractions,” you joked, recalling the night you two had set aside some time to tackle your task from the bride and groom. 

“That’s enough Taylor Swift,” Hangman groaned and you just shook your head.

“It’s a wedding, Hangman. There’s never too much Taylor. Besides, these are requests directly from the bride, I’m just fulfilling my duties.” The bride was your best friend Abby, your biggest cheerleader and confidant from elementary school days, no matter the station or deployment your friendship had never wavered and when you met Coyote upon your return to Top Gun you knew without question you needed to get the two of them together.

“Okay, well this has to be on the playlist…” he said, trailing off as You Give Love a Bad Name poured through your bluetooth speaker and you just shook your head as Hangman started bobbing his head along and singing with such conviction you were sure he thought he was Bon Jovi himself. You couldn’t stifle your laughter watching as he stood and walked around the coffee table, giving you a performance worthy of the biggest of stages. You tried to fight it, you really did, but you loved this song just a little bit more than you wanted to rain on Hangman’s parade. Soon you were dancing around your living room with him, shouting lyrics and laughing until your sides ached. 

It felt like fate… if you believed in that sort of thing, and you weren’t sure if you did but suddenly Bon Jovi was belting through the speakers and Hangman was giving you that same look he had that night, challenging you as he started to back up slowly with his hands up as if to say ‘you coming?’ Of course you were. You downed the rest of your drink, casting it aside on a nearby table and chasing after him. The two of you danced around each other, in your own little bubbles as you let loose and enjoyed the song yet somehow still completely in sync, turning to face each other at the exact same moment to shout ‘shot through the heart and you’re to blame, you give love a bad name’ before letting out loud laughs and continuing to move to the beat. 

The entire squad had their eyes on you, their movements slowing as they watched the two of you so wrapped up in your own world, not paying attention to anyone but the other and once they broke through the shock of seeing you this way they were grateful. You and Hangman never really got along, not necessarily adversaries but definitely not friends either. They’d all assumed you’d become attached at the hip with your mutual love for classic rock, borderline obsessional investment in professional sports and similar skill set at a pool table but you just weren’t. You never really clicked. In the air you were consistently in tandem, the only person on the team he actually worked well with but once you touched down on the tarmac it was awkward exchanges and minimal interaction at the Hard Deck. It wasn’t until that night in your living room after a few too many glasses of wine and an impromptu dance party that you finally connected.

“Oh god, I love this song,” you said breathlessly as it morphed into ‘Autumn Town Leaves’ by Iron & Wine, flowing through the space and he just grinned down at you.

“You did pick it,” he said and he held out his hand for you to take. “Dance with me?”

“What have we been doing all this time?” you asked with a playful smirk and he just rolled his eyes before taking your hand for himself and pulling you into him. Earlier in the day you didn’t feel quite so small beside him… not when he clinked his beer bottle against yours in a pre-ceremony toast, not when you walked down the aisle as maid of honor and best man, not when he stood to steady you after your heel almost slipped off the edge of the raised platform during your speech but standing here now, easily swaying to the beat with your hand firmly in his grasp and the other around your waist you felt so small, so vulnerable under his gaze.

“You look like you’ve been having a lot of fun tonight, I’m glad,” he observed, pulling his eyes from yours to look around the space for a moment. “You did all of this, it’s impressive. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to pull off her casual and intimate vibe in this setting.” You really did have your work cut out out for you, with the knowledge of a sudden deployment always looming you’d rushed to pull everything together when you knew everyone could be there, leaving you closely monitoring (harassing, as Hangman would call it) a few local venues before snagging a rather fancy ballroom in a beautiful beachfront hotel thanks to a last minute cancellation. With the majority of the lights turned off, a hell of a lot of string lights, and carefully curated décor you’d managed to pull it all together. “You did good, kid.” You flushed under his praise, not entirely sure how to handle it.

“I wanted them to have the wedding they deserve,” you said softly, peering around his shoulder to watch the couple wrapped up in complete bliss as they danced a few feet away.

“Well, the way I see it, this reception is for you. A celebration for all your hard work.”

“You didn’t do so bad yourself, best man. Thank you for helping when I needed it,” you replied and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, drawing your eyes down before you forced them upwards.

“Thanks for asking, thought I was going to have to force you to delegate,” he teased, twirling you out and away from him before pulling your chest into his back, arms wrapped around you as your hands flew up to brace yourself, gripping onto his forearm.

“I know how to delegate,” you protested and you felt him rumble with laughter behind you.

“No, sweetheart… you don’t,” he twirled you again, bringing you face-to-face again as the song ended and switched to something more upbeat but you felt trapped, not wanting to let go of his hand, not wanting him to remove his from your waist.

“I, uh,” you stumbled over your words as you realized your position under the weight of his gaze. “I have something I need to grab for Abby before they slip off for the night.” you said as you pulled away and made your way to where you’d been with Rooster and Phoenix earlier, looking for your shoes. 

“Everything okay?” Rooster asked, watching as you frantically searched under tables and cursing yourself for being so careless with where you’d put them.

“Yeah, uh… just need my shoes. Have a feeling a place like this would frown upon me stomping around the common areas barefoot,” you replied.

“You and Hangman are very chummy tonight,” he stated and you looked up briefly to glare at him.

“I don’t know what you’re- it’s wedding politics. The best man and maid of honor are like… I don’t know, a team for the whole wedding,” you shot back and he let out a loud laugh.

“Slow dancing and that little Bon Jovi moment, which by the way felt like some kind of inside joke and was very alienating and uncomfortable to be around, is not politics but, whatever you say,” he sighed, grabbing your shoes from under a nearby table and handing them to you and you took them before all but running out of the ballroom and into the brightly lit lobby of the hotel. All of your earlier coordination was lost as you struggled to balance while fastening your heels and waiting for the elevator to arrive, stumbling in when the doors opened, letting out a sigh of relief as you leaned against the back wall. 

“Oh, for the love of-” you muttered when a hand stuck through at the last moment, prompting the doors to reopen seconds before they’d shut as Hangman slid in and stood before you with a confused look on his face.

“You good?” he asked, looking you up and down and noting your slightly dejected posture in stark contradiction to how exuberant you’d been all night. 

“Yeah, just a last minute bridal present… don’t want to forget it,” you answered, wanting him to drop it and get off on the next floor. 

“You sure? You seem off,” he pressed and you looked up at him with annoyance.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said just as the elevator shuddered beneath you and your hands flew out to grip the metal bar behind you as it sputtered to a halt. The harsh lighting cut out, leaving you in complete darkness for a few minutes before fluorescent emergency lights flickered on with a faint buzz. “No… no, no, no this is not happening.” you groaned, stepping forward to press the call button to the front desk, listening to it ring and ring before disconnecting. In your periphery you watched Hangman slide down the wall and stretch his legs out before him, patting the space beside him and you sank to the floor with a sigh.

“Looks like we’re trapped,” he stated and you turned to look at him with annoyance for the most obvious observation. 

“What gave you that impression?” you asked with an eye roll and he shrugged beside you.

“Someone will notice we’re gone soon, we’ll try the call button again in a few minutes… they probably just went to break,” he said, trying to diffuse the tension.

“No, they’ll probably think I went to pass out somewhere and you snuck off with one of the other bridesmaids that have been ogling you all evening.” you said with thinly veiled contempt for your fellow bridal party and he chuckled.

“Aren’t they supposed to be your high school friends too?” he asked and you just shook your head.

“I love Abby, I really do but… they’re her friends from the cheer team and I didn’t know why she was friends with them then and I don’t know why she’s friends with them now.” 

“Were you not a cheerleader?” he teased.

“Are you really asking me that?” you asked and he laughed, nodding his head in agreement.

“Yeah, definitely not the type.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You knew you had insinuated it first but you suddenly felt offended.

“You said it!” he defended, shooting his hands out in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to agree with me!”

“Do you want me to think of you as the cheerleading type?” he asked and this stumped you.

“Well, no, but-”

“Then why are we arguing?”

“I don’t know, I just… we’re in this fucking tiny metal death trap just waiting to plunge to our deaths so perhaps I’m a little on edge,” you sighed.

“We fly around in cramped cockpits and dodge literal missiles for a living and this is what has you rattled?” he asked as if it was the silliest thing in the world, and really it was.

“At least in my cramped cockpit I have the canopy, I can see all the open air around me and I’m in control. Here I am at the mercy of some bottle blonde at the front desk sticking around to do her job long enough to get us out of here.” 

“Have faith in the bottle blonde,” he chuckled and you leaned your head back against the wall. Silence settled over the two of you and you tried to ignore the way his eyes trailed over you… something they’d been doing a lot more recently. Until that night with the wedding playlist you weren’t even certain he noticed you… and frankly you didn’t really notice him either. Even over surface level conversations when you were left alone by the rest of your friends you often felt like he was looking right through you, but you never cared because your eyes were always darting around looking for somebody else but now you felt undeniably seen by him and you didn’t like the way it prickled your spine and sent a wave of warmth flooding through your chest and flushed your cheeks. You didn’t like the way his hand felt against your waist and you definitely didn’t like how weightless you felt when he twirled you around. You also didn’t like the fact that those were all lies. “You’re very deep in thought,” he said suddenly, pulling you from your daze. 

“I’m not,” you replied softly and he subtly nodded, eyes still trained on you and your heart beat out of rhythm for a moment when they locked with yours. He looked as if he was about to say something, like it was right there on the tip of his tongue with that mischievous glint in his eyes and you cocked your head slightly. “What?”

“You’re pretty,” he stated simply.

“Oh, you’re drunk,” you laughed, brushing him off entirely as your ears burned.

“Only a little, and you’re pretty,” he repeated and you furrowed your brows at him for a moment.

“Well, you’re pretty too.” you replied a little awkwardly and he chuckled. 

“I wanted you to know, just in case someone hasn’t told you today… which would be a damn shame if they haven’t, that you were the prettiest girl in that room tonight.” 

“Don’t tell Abby that,” you said softly, still trying to deflect as you looked down to your hands in your lap.

“I wouldn’t want to tell Abby that, I only want to tell you,” he hooked his finger under your chin and pulled your gaze up, “I don’t - uh… I’ve wanted to tell you that for a long time,” he confessed. “Since the first day I met you but good grief you know how to make a guy feel invisible,” he chuckled. “Which is okay, we’re just coworkers… you’re under no obligation to give me the time to tell you you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen but you are, and I just wanted you to know that.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he dropped his hand from your face, “we’re not just coworkers.”

“We are, and that’s okay.”

“I didn’t think you ever noticed me… not really, not unless we were in the air. I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible,” you said softly and he shook his head.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart. And for the record, I always notice you.” You smiled at this, cheeks warming as you looked up at him with bright eyes and it just reaffirmed what he already knew… the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“I wasn’t just returning the compliment out of obligation earlier, I really do think you’re pretty,” you said and he frowned.

“Just pretty? Not devastatingly handsome and the man of your dreams?”

“Well, that’s just a mouthful,” you giggled and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. You’d subconsciously drifted closer, allowing your thigh to press against his and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, almost drowning out his words entirely.

“But you didn’t deny it,” he smirked.

“I didn’t deny it,” you confirmed and you felt his breath fan over your lips as he inched closer, eyes searching yours for any hesitation, any indication that he was misreading this moment and trying to will it into something else. The air between you felt charged, igniting a buzz along your skin as your breathing grew ragged under the weight of the anticipation and you pushed yourself forward slightly, eyes fluttering closed and allowing your lips to brush against his slightly. His fingers trailed up your neck, gently grasping the junction of your throat and your jaw to pull you closer and envelop you in a kiss. You melted into him, your hand moving to rest atop his as your other cupped his cheek. It was slow, slower than you might have anticipated from him if you’d ever given yourself the chance to think of what this moment might be like. He was taking his time, savoring the moment and prolonging it as long as he could. When his other hand gripped at your waist you let out a soft moan, parting your lips and allowing him to explore you with his tongue and the taste of him made you dizzy… faint spearmint and scotch. It was more intoxicating than the tequila you’d been drinking like water all night and you felt drunk from his touch as his hands wandered down, sliding over your leg peeking out of the slit in your dress. Desire thrummed through your veins as you moved your hand to tangle your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, gently pulling him further into you as you lowered yourself to the floor completely and created space for him to slot himself between your legs. You were so lost in the moment, in the feeling of his weight on top of you and how intentionally he was kissing you that you didn’t even feel the elevator shake to life beneath you as you trailed the heel of your shoe along his leg. You didn’t hear the ding of the doors opening when you tangled your hands in his hair as he kissed down the expanse of your neck and you almost didn’t hear the shocked gasps of your friends as they witnessed your compromising position on the floor of the elevator but that… that you did hear. 

The two of you shot up, Jake all but lifting you to your feet as you smoothed your dress and tried to avoid the eye contact of every single one of your teammates, spare Coyote and Abby, standing before you. They all filed into the elevator silently, and Bob carefully handed you your clutch.

“Grabbed that for you,” he muttered and you nodded in thanks as your cheeks burned.

“Party was winding down, thought we’d head back to Rooster’s room for a little after party if you’d like to join,” Phoenix said, with a knowing smirk on her face as she watched the numbers tick by on the screen above the door. 

“Sounds fun,” you said, clearing your throat and out of the corner of your eye you saw Rooster fist bump Jake and you used your clutch to hit him in the chest as Fanboy succumbed to his laughter. One by one you all joined in, filling the small space with the sound and you carefully tangled your fingers with Jake’s, looking up at him with a soft smile. “To be continued?” you whispered, barely to be heard over everyone else and he nodded.

“To be continued.”

part two

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Eleven

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Wing binding, injury, canon level violence, angst, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and you spend more time training in the mountains as a harsh storm blows through.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten

You spent the next day hiking. Your wings were still bound. You envied Azriel for stretching his wings and using them to balance himself whenever he could. It was as if he was taunting you. Though you hadn’t asked to have them unbound, he had done it overnight while you slept. And then this morning, he had you bind them yourself with your shadows. This time you did it without his help too. 

So you hiked, enjoying the views when you could. But then he threw training into it. He would nod towards a steep cliff to the next path and order you to climb it. Or instead of walking at a normal pace, you would run. Or do lunges. Or carry his pack and yours above your head. All of it was to make you stronger. And all of it was something he wished was a part of his training before the Blood Rite. He thought it should’ve been taught before they went through all of it. And even though he, Cass, or Rhys had no intention of you entering the Rite, he still thought it was an important lesson for you to learn before continuing your training. These were the perfect mountains to do it. Besides, if you never participated in the Rite, at least you’d have a sort of similar training experience as the rest of them. 

You stopped for lunch, and then made your way down the mountain. “Is this cabin close?” You asked. 

“Oh, it’s nowhere near here. But we’ll be going to train there for the rest of the week once we reach a certain pass. This is just for a warm up,” he explained. You growled in response, unhappy that you were doing this work for nothing. You wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of getting there by foot or flight. It would be through winnowing. 

“So you’re just putting me through this torment because you hate me?” You grumbled, sipping your water. 

Azriel paused and turned around slowly. You stopped and rested your hands on your hips, catching your breath. “I don’t hate you.” He said very seriously. “Why would you think that?” 

“You’ve ignored me this entire time, other than last night.” You answered, looking out of the view. “You trained me one day and decided I wasn’t worth your time, obviously.” You said, looking back at him to meet his stare. 

“I— (Y/N) I don’t hate you.” He simply said. He paused, not knowing what else to say. He couldn’t tell you that he was keeping his distance because he thought he wasn’t worthy of you. That you wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you. 

You shrugged and watched as he turned back around and continued walking. Soon, the snow started falling. You looked up and frowned. “That’s going to be a nasty storm, Azriel.” You said. “Are we going to take cover?” You asked. You passed at least four caves along the mountain. And you knew that there would be more. Not that you wanted to be in a cave during a snowstorm, but you could easily get out. And Azriel could too. That was if he didn’t want to just call it off and winnow to the cabin already. 

“We will when it gets bad. For now, let’s keep walking.” He said. You let out a huff, walking with him further down the mountain, and then back up the trail. The snow got worse and the wind was relentless. You narrowed your eyes as you saw a blue shield around him as he walked, provided by his Siphon. 

You were soaked from the snow, and shivering. “Can we-“ you started, barely audible over the wind. 

Azriel looked back when he heard someone crumble behind him, frowning when he no longer saw you. He called your name, walking towards you. He let down the shield and flared out his wings to balance against the wind. He called out your name again but stopped when he saw you dangling on the edge of the mountain, hands gripping the ledge about an arms length below the trail.

He ran over to you, reaching down to pull you up but you let out a yelp. “Behind you!” You yelled. He looked behind him just in time to dodge a spear being thrown at him. He swore and reached down. 

“Grab on!” He yelled, his wings tucked in as he held out his hand. You tried to flare your wings but they were still bound. Your head was too concerned with hanging on for your life to even think about how to speak to your shadows. 

“I can’t,” you yelled, letting out another yelp as your hand slipped. “Azriel!” You yelled, feeling tears well in your eyes. The wind was freezing your entire body. Your hand was cramping.

You could tell he was trying to figure out how to get to you without knocking you off. Even if he could fly over to you, the wind was too violent. 

Azriel looked behind him, seeing where the spear flew from. He swore again and flared out his magic, putting up a shield. He just needed to get your hand and you could winnow to safety together. His heart beat rapidly as he leaned down the ledge, holding out his hand. “Grab my hand, (Y/N). Breathe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He said. 

Your eyes met his, full of fear and dread. You wouldn’t die here. Not when Azriel was right there. Helping you. 

You held onto the ledge with the hand that was still there, fingers digging in as you reached up with the one that slipped. You bit back a whimper as you felt the stone cut into your hand as you grabbed Azriel’s hand with your other one. In an instant, he pulled you up and winnowed you away from the ledge. You fell on top of him, holding back a sob as you grabbed his coat. 

You had little time to think when another spear flew towards you. You rolled off Azriel, who was on his feet as soon as you were. He tapped his Siphon and his armor racked over his body. You took a deep breath, focusing yourself. Your shadows unbound themselves from your wings and whirled around you instead. Happy for the small comfort, you looked up. 

“Where are they coming from?” You called to him, the wind still so loud you could barely hear yourself. 

“Up there. Stay here, I’m going to check it out.” He said but you grabbed his arm. 

“I’m coming with you.” You stated, nodding at him. He took off, flying up the mountain with you trailing behind him. 

You dodged another spear and took a nosedive with him down to the ground. You landed next to him a second later. You couldn’t see who was throwing the spears, but both your shadows dashed towards the being and told you that it was a male. Faerie. And he was protecting a cave. 

“We should leave.” You yelled to Azriel. He shook his head, putting up a shield in front of the two of you as he walked forward, a spear bouncing off. 

Azriel heard you scream in pain before you fell beside him. He looked towards you, a spear struck right through your right wing, almost stabbing into your shoulder. From the smell that drifted over to him, it was ash. Your shadows scattered away from you because of the wood.

You crumpled to the ground, gasping for air just as a male ran towards you and knocked you down while one engaged Azriel. He needed to get you out of here. Needed that spear to be out of your wing. Now. 

He didn’t know what came over him, but his body carried him before his mind did. Falling into all his training, he took down the males with a sword generated by his Siphon. Then put up a shield solely around you. He knew you could fight. But with ash in your wing, he didn’t want there to be a chance of it splintering. If it did, you would never fly again. 

He didn’t know how many males came after that, all he knew was that he got to you within a matter of seconds, sheathing Truth Teller back into his belt. He grabbed you by the waist, whispering that you would be okay, and winnowed you to Windhaven. He called out to Rhys in his mind to get Madja here as soon as he could. 

When Azriel landed outside Rhys’s cabin at Windhaven, Cassian was standing there. He swore and ran over to you. “What in the Cauldron?” He asked, noticing the blood Azriel was covered in. But none of it was his. He didn’t have a scratch on him. 

You let out a groan as Cassian and Azriel carried you into the cabin, sweeping off the table and setting you down on your back. The want to flee from the ash in your wing was overwhelming. You needed to get away from the spear. Needed to pull it out. You reached back, growling when Cassian took your wrist. “Don’t touch it,” he said, wincing as he could feel the ash from where he stood. Where did someone get an ash spear? In the northern mountains?

“We were ambushed. Mountain dwellers. They must have thought we were attacking.” Azriel told Cassian. You were shaking. Not only from your near frozen clothing, but from the blood dripping from your wing. And the ash embedded into it.

Rhys appeared with Mor and Madja a moment later, bursting into the room. “Azriel,” he started, going over to him and pushing him against the wall. 

“Before you get mad, let me show you what happened.” He said and let Rhys into his mind. Rhys must have shown the rest of them, because they all changed their focus to you. Shivering on the table. You didn’t make a noise other than whimpers here and there. Tears were flowing from your eyes. 

“Hold her wings, boys,” Madja said. “Mor, help me pull this out. Rhys.. she shouldn’t be awake for this.” She said and went over to you. 

You started thrashing as Cassian came closer to your wings. “No! No, don't!” You yelled, trying to move away from him. The ash embedded in your wing made your head dizzy. Your consciousness shifted to when your father tried to clip your wings, your brothers pinning you down. “Please don’t. I need my wings.” You pleaded as tears flowed from your eyes, thrashing more. 

“(Y/N).” Azriel said, appearing in front of you, taking your unharmed hand in his. “It’s us. We are not going to hurt you. We need to get this ash out of your wing.” He said. You stared into his eyes, your breathing uneven but you settled. 

“Azriel?” You croaked out, finally coming back to reality as you registered his eyes. 

“I’m here. You’ll be okay. Can we help you? Can we handle your wings?” He asked. 

You blinked a few times and nodded. “Please.” You whispered, tightening your grip on his hand. 

Rhys knelt on the other side of you. “Can you lower your shields?” He asked quietly. 

You took a shaky breath, closing your eyes. Your hand was still clasping Azriel’s as you took your shields down, letting Rhys into your mind.

Your body went still, your breathing evened out as Rhys held your mind. He nodded to Madja as he stood up, holding one part of your wing to stretch it out as Cassian did the same. 

“If we let one splinter stay in, it’ll ruin her wings. So keep it still. She might be unconscious, but her body may react.” She said, putting on her leather gloves that would ensure she didn’t need to touch the ash. “Got her?” She asked Rhys and Cass. Mor stayed on the other side, watching as Azriel whispered calming words to you. Even though you were unconscious, your grasp on his hand held firm. Mor looked between you two, as shadows from both of you swirled around your heads and shoulders, and knew that if Azriel didn’t make a move soon, she would have to interfere. You were practically perfect for each other.  

Madja started to pull it out, your wing and body jolting at the sensation of ash wood dragging across the membrane. She went slowly, ensuring no splinters got stuck. Once the spear was out, she examined the damaged wing to ensure nothing was stuck. Then she grabbed her bag and started to do what she could to heal the wound with her magic. She did everything she could, covering the wound in a salve and then wrapping your wing. She moved to your cut hand and wrapped it as well after she cleaned and bound it with magic.

She finally stepped away, nodding at Rhys. “She should rest.” She said and Azriel stood up when you finally loosened your grip on his hand. Rhys informed them that you’d fallen asleep by yourself. 

“We’ll take her back to the house,” Cassian said.

Madja shook her head. “She shouldn’t winnow until her wing is healed more. And flying in the cold air isn’t a good idea.” She said. 

“We’ll keep her here. I’ll watch over her.” Azriel said, looking at you for a few moments with sad eyes. He brushed your hair from your face, you finally seemed like you weren’t in pain. Azriel couldn’t believe he let you get hurt. After he just promised you he would never let it happen. How did he not sense the ambush? He was one of the strongest warriors in Prythian. And he let you get hurt. What was he worth if he couldn’t protect you? Why did he have a primal tug that forced him to protect you, to get you to safety? How could he ever think he was worthy of you if he let you get hurt this badly?

“I’ll clean up her room, she’ll be comfortable up there.” Mor said and rested a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Bring her up in ten minutes.” She said before going upstairs. 

“Az…” Rhys said once Madja went back to Velaris. “You protected her before yourself. Why?” He asked. Cassian shifted on his feet and turned towards Azriel, wondering the same thing. 

“I needed to protect her. She was hurt. And those males hurt her.” He said, his scarred fists clenching. 

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a look. “You sure she isn’t your mate?” Cass asked. 

“What you did… what you felt… it sounds a lot like a male protecting his mate.” Rhys said. 

Azriel looked at you for a few moments. You were so beautiful, even now. Even when your cheeks were red and your eyes puffy from crying. He couldn’t stand seeing you hurt. But at least you were safe and you would heal. Your wings would heal. 

“I haven’t felt it snap.” He said, eyes still on you. It would be so easy if you were his mate.

“It doesn’t always happen right away,” Rhys added. Azriel knelt beside you in response, taking your hand in his. “Az… if she is, if you feel it..” Rhys trailed off. 

“Like you felt it with Feyre?” Azriel asked and looked up, raising his eyebrows. “If (Y/N) is my mate, the bond hasn’t chosen to reveal itself yet… I let her get hurt. And I’m not going to let it happen again. As soon as she heals, we’ll keep training.” He said. “And it won’t happen again.”

A/N: I originally planned for them to actually spend time at the Cabin in the mountains, but then I wanted to show Az protecting our girl.. and of course a little angst :)

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[xreaderbooks]

All I breathe (2)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of abuse, trauma, and torture

Summary: Could a mission to Y/n’s childhood home, the Autumn Court, spark a friendship between the night courts spymaster and the newest emissary? Or will they let their hatred come between, what could be, a strong bond?

A/N: I made Nuan from ACOWAR heavily OC in this, I haven't read the books in so long so please forgive any reference mistakes. I haven't read ACOSF either so keep that in mind, I did try to do my research for storyline purposes when it comes to the first 4 books. I also do not know how to describe dresses very well lol. Send me a message or comment if you want to be tagged in future parts.

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

An Illyrian bastard! you could not stand him. He was a contemptuous brute as you knew most Illyrians were. Cassian and Rhysand were just fine, if only he turned out more like his brothers. Although the comment the former had made had you reeling. In no world do you see yourself sharing a bed with the Shadowsinger. What was worse was knowing the days to come were going to be filled with hours of what had just occurred. In the safety of your room, you had released the flames that begged for freedom, letting them kindle on your hands, careful not to get too close to the furniture.

The power you and your twin had shared assuming it had come from your mother's distant bloodline. Your mother was another factor that you had thought of constantly during your stay at this new court. While you dealt with your own struggles mentally, you and Lucien had a better life here in Velaris, you were free from all the males who once dominated your life. You couldn’t say the same for your poor mother. She was the one person you looked forward to seeing.

“He’s not right you know?” A smooth casual familiar voice echoed from behind you. Your power jolted, letting out a blast of controlled flames in your hands.

“I could have burned you, you idiot!” You shoved your brother away from you once you recovered from the shock.

“No, you really couldn’t have.” He chuckled. There Lucien stood a few feet behind you, he just left yesterday morning, there was no reason for him to be back so early.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You crossed your arms and shuffled closer to your bed, sitting on the edge.

“I heard Rhysand gave you a tough assignment, with an even tougher partner.”

“Do not call him my partner and he’s weaker than any of you give him credit for,” You snarked back.

Lucien put his hands up in surrender, “Relax I’m just here to ease the tension.”

“Like you ever,” You glared at him playfully.

“He has a way of making you tense so easily, Sister.” Lucien sits beside you on the edge of the end of your bed. “Despite your hatred for him, you need to place your trust in him fully while you’re there.”

“Why can’t you come with me?” You put on your best puppy dog-like pleading eyes, Lucien stopped falling for it once you both came to an age where life was not so easily bought by a sweet smile or those perfect doe eyes you were able to mimic.

“I would if I could, I have business elsewhere” He ruffled your hair pushing your head away lightly when you scowled at him. “Important business in the mortal realms of all places.”

“Oh please, you can feign annoyance all you want but you’ve found an interest there.”

“I don’t have much keeping me here anyway Y/n, better to keep busy.” A sad disposition had formed within him whenever he was near Elain, he couldn’t do more than he was already doing to make Elain comfortable around him.

The words stung, and suddenly the statement Azriel made didn’t seem so far off the truth. You knew you could make yourself useful enough to be of value but what did any of that mean when your own twin couldn’t find your company worthy. Obviously, he did have places to go and people to meet but you did too and if he ever needed you, you would drop everything to be there for him. The scar on your left cheek was a testament to that.

You sat there side-by-side for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other's company in silence. Lucien tapped your knee twice before declaring he walk you out before your journey. He wrapped a loose arm around your shoulders, “I will be here when you get back.” He squeezed you into his side.

Reaching the last step Azriel was there waiting for you, he gave Lucien a nod before looking away to give you and your brother privacy. You squeezed his middle, “You better.”

He gave you a kiss on your forehead, “Stay safe, sister.”

“Goodbye brother,” You whispered back to him before he disappeared into thin air. Cassian came out of the kitchen and nodded for you to come to him.

Once in the kitchen Cassian peeked out of the door and spoke in a hushed tone, “Listen, I know it’s gonna be hard but the only way this plan will work is if you both find a way to set aside your differences and learn how to communicate.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair giving him an exasperated look, you thought he was going to give you some advice or something more useful than a lecture. “Unlike him, I believe I can be civilized. Besides we’re about to have plenty of bonding time.”

You caught him wince at the word bonding, “Let’s hope so.”

“Was that it?” You asked. Cassian hummed in response and with a finger flicked your head up by your chin.

“Remember Y/n, don’t hesitate. Hesitate and you're dead.” The same advice he gave you throughout training, a feat you had consistent trouble with; hesitation. You were decent, despite being out of shape with the lack of training and with what little you knew of combat. Illyrian training was different than what you were used to but it was better and you learned enough to be of use if you were needed. Maybe a little clumsy and lacked some confidence in your skills but in a life-or-death situation you expected your survival instincts would kick in.

He guided you to where Azriel was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his knife.

~~~

Winnowing to the dawn court went smoothly. You and Azriel winnowed separately, neither of you willing to touch each other, opting to travel alone rather than conserve energy to save time. The first big jump had you stopping for a break at the Day Court, you felt your power falter, the surge of fire from earlier draining you a little. The law of your power, where one of your powers is strong the others weaken.

You stopped by a lake for water, careful of your surroundings. A quick minute stop and when you had winnowed away to the point on the other side of the border where you knew to meet Azriel, he had given you an earful.

“Where were you?” His tone was nothing short of accusatory.

“I felt like I needed a short break so I stopped for some water,” You spoke casually so as not to alarm the always-on-edge spymaster. It took a toll on your patience but you needed him to be calm.

His eyes were narrow as he stared you down, “Where?”

“Near Day Court border Azriel, Where else?”

“Specifically where did you stop for water?” He pushed, “Shocking there were no sentries nearby.”

“I assure you whatever your mind conjured up about my whereabouts, is not true.”

“I just find it curious how you were not intercepted,” He crossed his arms and tilted his head “unless there is something that you’re not telling me.”

You were beginning to feel anxious by his interrogation, you didn’t have anything to hide but this felt familiar in the ways your brothers would question you after a night out or worse when you were on your little missions for them. Tamlin would do the same, jealous even though you knew he never truly loved you. Even when he had Feyre.

“I told you all there is to know,” You grit your teeth. “We’re wasting time on this useless topic when we would have been at Dawn already.”

“I don’t trust you.” He begins to walk in the direction of the border of the Dawn Court.

“Oh really?” Your voice is frivolous as you follow him, “I hadn’t gathered that. I can feel your shadows, they are not as obscure as you think they are. Even so, I have nothing to prove to you Shadowsinger.”

His jaw clenches, “You somehow have fooled everyone in my court that you are innocent but I will find a way to break you Firewielder.”

“And you will fail,” You stop walking when you step in front of him, blocking his way. “You think of me as some villain Azriel when I am just someone who is trying to get by in whatever way, whatever place I can. That is all I have been trying to do, all I have ever done. Gods, if your High Lady could forgive me, why can’t you?”

“You have caused my High Lady enough harm,” He says simply and starts to walk again but you block his path. “You do not deserve the forgiveness, Rhysand and Feyre have so graciously granted you.”

“I have paid for my sins just as I’m sure you have and will continue to do so, I do not need a constant reminder of my fuckups any more than you do.” Your words were like venom, you may not know all of what the Shadowsinger was made of but the whispers throughout the world of what he does to people, rumor or no- you knew would haunt him til the end of his days. “You are no better than I am Spymaster, you should do well to remember that next time you sink that knife into someone’s flesh.”

An astonished look featured on his chiseled face, you’d wager no one but his brothers dared to speak to him in such a way. You weren’t one to speak so flippantly, but Azriel brought out a side of you that you had to admit you reveled in. You hadn’t felt as strong as when you let all your anger out on him. Your brothers, your father, and Tamlin had made you cower into yourself so much so that you didn’t dare argue. Azriel lit a fire within you that fueled you to shed the weaker parts of your soul and fight back.

~~~

You were within the walls of the Dawn Court castle only minutes after your discussion with Azriel. Not a word was spoken after you said your peace, you stood next to each other with a generous amount of space between you as you waited for someone to attend to you at the front steps of the palace.

A friendly face appeared from behind the doors urging you both to come inside, the healer of the Dawn Court was a long-time friend of yours. You hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years yet her countenance was still the same. She hugged you in greeting and gave the Shadowsinger a nod.

“The High Lord is otherwise engaged unfortunately but he sends his regards and me of course,” Nuan clutched your arm that was already looped around hers. “I’ll be showing you to your rooms.”

“Thank you,” You smiled. Azriel repeated what you had said and followed close behind you. She guides you through a series of hallways with large pillars framing the view of the mountains.

“It’s not a problem, though I do ask that you join me for dinner tonight.” She pauses in front of a door, she’s still holding your arm so you assume this is Azriels room. “Both of you, it’ll be at that restaurant in town that we used to go to Y/n, you know the one.”

You nodded with pursed lips, “Yes, I do but I’m sure Azriel has other ideas on how he’d like to spend his night.” You tried to hint at her to leave him alone, you needed a break from him and his attitude.

“I’ll be there.” Was all Azriel said before bowing his head at her and closing himself in his room for the night.

Nuan raised her brows at you with a slightly agape mouth, dragging you through the long corridor lined with near-opalescent golden stone pillars. Once she had shown you your room a couple of doors down from Azriels, she shut the door behind her. “I had to give you this room so that I can talk to you without him hearing, Cauldron that male is astonishingly gorgeous.”

You snorted, “For a bat.”

She placed her hands on her hips, “Now I know damn well you have taste, Y/n and I know that you wholeheartedly agree with me.”

“I might have once upon a time, I’ve changed.” You smirked and strolled around the room, taking it all in. Your room had a balcony overlooking one of the many gardens, you would have chosen to stay at the Dawn Court if given the opportunity.

“Surely not because of the husband!” Nuan gasped. She reminded you of the one you were fake married to, Fae cannot lie but when one is desperate, the loopholes you find are wild.

You raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, “No, of course not.”

She walked toward you and reached out with her mechanical hand tracing the scar on your face, “Do you think he is that superficial? I have seen the scars on his hands Y/n, he is beautiful but not completely unmarred.”

“I forget how forward you are Nu,” You stepped out of her reach. “Have you heard the news of the faebane? It’s traveling all across the lands, the reason why we’re here.”

She nodded grimly, “Yes, I have heard but my information is limited. And you’re deflecting but that’s no matter, we shall continue that topic at dinner.”

“For an alchemist, you sure do like to gossip.” You teased, “You should seek out Azriel before dinner to discuss the faebane situation.”

“Why do you think I’m friends with an emissary? you make the most pleasant company for gossip.” She reached for the door handle and slipped out of the room.

~~~

You forgot how free-flowing Dawn Court fashion is, as you dressed you felt yourself grow self-conscious. The dress exposed your thighs, arms, and stomach with shibari-like knots around the torso and neck with layered sheer nude material covering. A huge difference from what you were wearing before. You reminded yourself of the fact that the fae of the Dawn Court were not judgmental people and they made dresses like this for all shapes and sizes and they saw every being as radiant. They were peaceful and kind and as you walked into the restaurant, you and Nuan had found one night, Azriel was sitting there in conversation with the dark-haired beauty.

Her dress was similar to yours, and her upturned eyes and olive-toned skin were complimented by the lavender color she was wearing. Azriel was talking intently, the loud chattering of everyone around you clouded your ability to hear what he was saying. Nuan was right, he was gorgeous. Beautiful in a way you could not compare to a male or female, he was otherwordly.

You scolded yourself mentally, as beautiful as he may be, his personality was not. His calculated, smooth-toned, encapsulating speech- your mind wandered again. You could not catch a break from him. Mentally or physically and you were sick of it. With a huff, you lifted the hem of your dress so that it would not catch onto your heel and strutted over to the table where Azriel was out of his chair and holding it out for you to take his place.

In the time you took to admire him from the entrance, you failed to see that they were sitting at a table for two. There was room for two more but you’d have to steal a chair from another table and he had given his chair to you. Your eyes flickered from the chair to him and hesitantly took a seat, he tucked you into the table, and you didn’t miss the way Nuan’s lips turned up on one side.

He pulled up a chair and sat. A Cheshire grin spread upon Nuan’s face, immediately nerves took over you.

“Now that we’re done exchanging information,” She nodded once to Azriel and directed her attention to you. “Y/n about that husband, how is he?”

Your jaw ticked, “I wouldn’t know, I don’t speak to him.”

She hummed, “Interesting. And your brother is he well?”

“Yes, he is, though I suspect you know that considering he visits you often.”

Her laugh came out in a bark, Azriel's eyes and shadows watched you two in a dance, silently observing your postures and hidden messages. He wouldn’t understand the game you and Nuan played, especially not the one Nuan was playing right now, you were beginning to lose track of yourself.

“So Tamlin is completely out of the picture now?” She went back to her original target. You coughed a little bit of the water you sipped a second before she asked. “No, Nuan.” You cursed. “I live in the night court now, everything's changed.”

“Just curious, Y/n/n-” She said lightheartedly. “Do you live there with him?” She glanced at the male sitting next to you. So this is what she wanted to know.

Azriels eyes widened, “Absolutely not!” You both exclaimed at the same time, creating looks coming from nearby tables.

“Apologies, really I thought you two were together, possibly in secret. I got a sense that you both were involved, please forgive me.” Nuan’s cheeks reddened as she stammered her apology.

You were entirely upset knowing that she was embarrassed by her display. You switch the topic as smoothly as you could, asking about how the faebane works and if there was any way she could create an antidote without knowing the exact ingredients in the newer version. She answered each question with ease, Azriel asked a few of his own and finished up the conversation they were having earlier about the theories on who could have made it. At that time your dinner was cleared, and the three of you lingered to pay for your meal.

“Excuse me, I believe I see a patient of mine who isn’t doing what he’s supposed to-” Nuan rushed out of her seat to an older-looking male.

You caught Azriels stare when you turned back into your chair. He looked pensive as he opened his mouth to speak, “How did you and Nuan…”

“Meet? Under the mountain.” You responded though you weren’t so sure why considering you still wanted to be petty for his interrogation. “She healed and made Lucien's eye, also helped me heal when I got the scar.”

A few moments of silence.

“I’d like to-” He cleared his throat “I’d like to apologize for earlier.”

Your eyes search his in suspicion, he continues. “I should have believed you. My shadows told me that you were speaking the truth and I didn’t believe you.”

“I have had enough overbearing males in my life dictating my life and questioning my every move without you being added to the list.”

“I’m trying Y/n,” He sighed clenching the table napkin.

“By telling me that your shadows tried to plead my case and even then you wouldn’t believe me?”

“When you put it that way.” He breathed out a laugh, the closest one you’ve ever heard from him that was meant for your ears. It was a small gesture, one that did not go unnoticed by you. Around you, he was always so tense.

“What is it then?” You inquire, “Do you hate me or could we call a truce?”

“As if you could hold your tongue for long enough for me not to hate you.”

You allowed yourself a small smile, “You are truly unrelenting, if this is how you are with me I wonder how are with the people you bring to your chamber.”

“You talk of my work with so much ease,” He grimaced. “You wouldn’t be able to actually stomach it.”

The humor that hung in the air was gone, you sensed a challenge. “I can’t do what you do but I am not afraid of you Shadowsinger.”

His hazel eyes beheld yours, exploring them, you weren’t sure what he was searching for but the intensity with which he stared unnerved you. “If you weren’t the sister of the male I despise the most and if you weren’t once married to the one who caused my lady so much grief, I could be inclined to like you.” His smooth low toned voice was hypnotic.

You reached for your glass of wine, the energy too much for you to take sober taking a sip before replying “If you weren’t such an insufferable bastard, I could be inclined to say the same.”

“I still don’t trust you,” Azriel said slyly.

You rolled your eyes, “Do you have mind healers in Velaris? Cause you desperately need one, you all do.”

That brought out a deep laugh from him, you looked at him in awe at the melody that came from his mouth and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time. Your stare fixed upon his smile, bright and angelic made your heart jump. He was suddenly aware of you and the wall he had when he was around you built up again.

Your mind felt the need to know if what he said earlier was true, “Is that really why you hate me?”

“You can’t just let a moment be, can you Firewielder?” He no longer carried that sharp grin that had you melting for a second.

“I am not my brother, Eris I mean, what he’s done. I have no part in it.”

He nodded slowly, “Now tell me why you hate me.”

You picked at your cuticle as you spoke- a nervous human habit that you picked up throughout your years. “I don’t. I don’t particularly like you but you have done nothing but make my life miserable since the moment you rescued us from the ice and every moment after that.”

You were being chased by your brothers along with Feyre and Lucien when Cassian and Azriel had come to Feyre's aid. That was when you had found out that Feyre was the High Lady of the Night Court when you and Lucien had been brought to Velaris and saw the city you’ve grown to love. It was the start of everything. Before and after the war.

You and Lucien were appointed as emissaries to the night court, Lucien had his assignments and you had yours. You served as both emissary and spy (occasionally), while Lucien had to send bi-weekly reports to Azriel, you had to report to him for every single assignment unless specified otherwise by the High Lord. This is the cause of the clash you had with the Spymaster.

That day was the only day you had peace from him, if only because nobody in the inner circle had warmed to your presence yet.

“My whole life I’ve heard of the monstrous fae who served the Night Court, the Court of Nightmares was real to me but I was never afraid of the stories- of you. All you did was prove that the stories were true, like the act you all put on when you go there, is real.”

“You should know that I do not find it easy to be around you Y/n.” You were about to ask him what he meant when Nuan’s figure came into view, pulling a lesser fae male along with her.

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Damian- Damian this is the friend I told you about.” Nuan shoved him your way as you stood, you stumbled into him and he steadied you by your elbows. “I took care of the bill by the way, I told Damian he should walk you to the palace. Azriel and I still have loads to discuss.”

You smiled shyly at the blond-haired guy in front of you and turned your head to where Azriel was once sitting, you were about to protest but Nuan was already dragging Azriel out the door. You appreciated your friend's efforts to set you up with the attractive male that was nothing short of a gentleman as he made easy conversation during the walk to the palace, but after dinner with Azriel, this guy wasn’t going to cut it. It would be too easy for you to bring him up to your room and spend the night with him but you were on a job and you were not going to give Azriel another to scold you. 

~~~

Next Chapter

Taglist: @americancowgirl19 - @feyres-fireheart - @brekkershadowsinger - @marina468

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 11: silence

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: hello, yes i like to hurt my feelings, and yes I had lot of fun writing this one, reblogs are really appreciated and pls let me know what you think, this chapter is kinda important to me

CW/TW: mentions of death, loss, trauma, violence, assault, angst, hurt, use of y/n and petnames (difference in the petnames is intended)

wordcount: 3.8k

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"I dinnea ever again will hit the gym with yer two.", Johnny whined while pearls of sweat ran down his forehead. "Nobody asked ya to be here.", Ghost said, maybe a bit sarcastic, but still a serious tone hidden in between. You only chuckled while catching your breath. You had a chat with one of the other Sergeants a day back and he recommended a good work out, but you needed at least three persons for it to be efficient. To give yourself a challenge, you didn't hesitate to ask Simon and then Johnny. "Well, bonnie here did.", he smiled – a knowing smile - aimed at Ghost. They started a full-on argument about it but you didn't listen. Only caught fragments of burgers, tanks, and tea. You didn't pay much attention; your glance was pinned onto the screen of your phone. Price had called you, at least three times and a message was left, that you should see him in his office as soon as possible. "Gotta go. Cap wants to see me.", you stuffed the phone back into the pocket before waving your goodbye. "Dinnea forget about dinner tonight!", Johnny yelled after you, what earned him a simple thumbs up by you before running around the corner.

"Dinner?", Simon didn't want to ask, he really didn’t but sometimes his mouth was faster than his mind. Something that happened rarely, but even more when it comes to you. He had sworn to stop that. Invading your privacy like he did with the dog tag of your dead friend. If there would be something he needed to know, you would tell him. You trusted him. He trusted you. Still, he hated the feeling in his guts as Johnny asked you about dinner. Just like he hated the feeling boiling up in him when Johnny sat next to you instead of himself. "Yer ken, just some mates havin' dinner together.", Johnny wore one of the most mischievous grins he could. He didn't look at him, but he felt how Simon stared daggers at him. What Simon didn’t get to hear, that the dinner was supposed to be the whole team, but Johnny kept that part to himself. The reaction from his Lieutenant made it worthy, until he heard the harsh tone from him again. "Another round, Sergeant." - "Oh, c'mon."

Just as you wanted to knock at the door, of Price's office, it already swung open, and Kyle investigated your face. "Brought ya someone.", he stated while moving to the side and gifted you a quick but honest smile before you entered the office. "You wanted to see me, sir?", your voice serious but soft. You walked over to the desk where Price was seated. "I might need your help to find a solution for all that mess.", he said while pointing to the chair and you sat down, looking at your captain with anticipation. Price explained the whole situation and that there was one person that could gather intel to lead the whole operation forward. The problem was, this person was announced MIA like two months ago, but there was a little hint to find him. Laswell worked the last weeks to find his trace. He should’ve been held hostage for the whole time in an old chem factory taken by Russian terrorists. Biggest problem about it; another military organization is already trying to get rid of the occupier. That way the 141 couldn't just head out. Especially when the deployed team and yours were known to be not getting along quite well. You couldn't just walk in and get your man out of there and act like nothing happened. Price found out who led the operation on location, and that was your entry.

You knew him, way too well. "You’re asking me to reach out to request a favour?" - "Unfortunately, I think it's our best shot at the moment." You stayed silent, eyes trailing to your hands folded in your lap. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask for. But we don't want them to help us, just to lay down their work for a day that we can go in and out. Maybe it can even help them..." You stayed silent. "It isn't an order, you know." Your silence made Price feel uneasy. But you were so entangled with your own thoughts that you couldn't bring yourself to speak.

It's been over a year now, a year of distance between the two of you and now you should approach him like nothing happened. That was almost impossible. You couldn't just call him. You couldn’t reach out to him, like you did nothing wrong to him. You simply couldn't, "Gonna take care of it.", and you did. Your work brain took over.

It took you some time to achieve what was requested and to your fortune you had achieved it without calling him directly. He was on the front line anyways. That way you found yourself surrounded by Soap, Gaz and Ghost on the way to the border from Uzbekistan. Price wasn't there, he had to take care of another problem, Laswell and he needed to solve before your return. Wearing the black mask, eyes closed you listened to your surroundings. Gaz' and Soap's talk, the steady and deep breathing from Ghost who sat next to you again. It gave you a familiar grounded comfort before leaving the vehicle to go after your target.

You needed to operate with a huge level of fineness. Pulling as less as possible attention while freeing your man. That's why you decided to split up. Ghost and you should march first, you were the most quiet and the best of the team to act in the shadows. Gaz and Soap built the rearguard to take cover of you from higher levels. Everything seemed to go right to plan. Within an hour you found your man and was able to free him. Ghost steadied him and you watched his six while making your way back to the exit.

That was the turning point, from now on the mission just went south. Gaz couldn't keep you covered because he needed to cover his partner. Both got literally overrun by enemies. Just when you lost Gaz over the comms, you got distracted as Ghost lost grip of the hostage. That's how you caught a bullet in your shoulder. Nothing to worry too much about it, but the pain was ringing through your body. You kept pushing it down. Kyle and Johnny were long gone, and you switched channels at your comms really quick before you pushed further forward. Just then you caught a familiar face. It was a face printed on a photo Price showed you weeks ago when you had to eliminate two men. This image in front of you instantly made you stop in your tracks. "Impossible.", you breathed out nearly inaudible when Ghost stopped to look after you. His voice was harsh. "Sergeant?" But before you could answer him, a huge trembling of those old and rusty metal floors caught your attention more. "Keep moving.", Ghost now yelled at you, and you did. Running to the point where you entered the factory. The metallic bridge you had to run over did collapsed into itself before you reached the other side and dragged you down. Ghost tried to catch a fracture of your tactic vest, but you were already gone. Somewhere levels below your actual exit point.

You could muffle the impact of the harsh ground a bit, still you groaned in pain. "Sergeant, you broken?", you heard Ghost's voice over the comms. It sounded as serious and stern as always. The hole in your shoulder made it so much more difficult to breathe right now. You needed to steady yourself. "Skadi, status?!", his voice got more demanding or even desperate. You couldn't tell. He was already on his way down, as you didn't answer him. You took a few deep breaths before pushing the button on your communication device. "Steady. Need another way out. I guess."

He instantly stopped his movement. Ghost didn't realize he held his breath until you spoke, that's why he let out a deep exhale of relief. "Let's see if I can help.", he answered and that earned him a quite chuckle form you. "Take our man outside, Lieutenant, rendezvous at evac. I'll be there." - "Don't do something stupid, Sergeant." You didn't answer him, but you felt a harsh pain piercing through your chest. Not caused through the fall, no, caused of his choosing of words. Words you heard all so often. You pushed yourself up, grip tight around your rifle while searching for another way out of that factory.

Ghost brought the hostage to the evac point before reaching out to you again. You weren't here. "Sergeant, location?" Soap was already seated in the jeep, Gaz just arriving. His comms were destroyed, Soap had dust and sticky liquids all over his gear. But after all they still looked alright. Soap wanted to ask about you, but suddenly another quake brought their attention back to the factory. "Status, now!!", Simon yelled in the comms. The men could witness an explosion going off in the upper levels of the factory. Johnny reached out to his comms after you didn't answer. "C'mon bonnie. Where are yer?" Still no answer. Ghost could feel his stomach turn. He could feel how the grip around the little device at his vest tightened. Soap and Gaz already talked nine tin to a dozen, but none of their words met his ears. "Stay here!", he hissed out a order before running towards the factory. Soap and Gaz didn't even try to protest, they knew Ghost had already chosen. He couldn't afford to bring them right into the danger zone. It was enough to endure that you were out there. He couldn't afford to lose you. He couldn't live with the knowledge that he could have changed something. And he could, so he would. He wasn’t the helpless little boy from Manchester anymore. He could protect what he held dear to him now.

His feet dragged him faster than ever to the place your ways parted. His eyes scanning for a hint of your figure. His comms switched to the private channel he had with you. "Skadi?!" His voice was so broken, he could feel how a rope laced around his throat. "Skadi, please." He ran through the building, finding bodies laying everywhere around, always scared to look if it might be yours. But they were all too tall for your figure. A figure that shouldn't have to endure all that like he had to. He heard a distant exchange of fire. Then a crack in his comms and immediately stopped in his track. "Skadi??", his breath was uneven, his chest lifting heavy. "Backup's here.", an unfamiliar raspy voice echoed through his head. Backup? They never called for backup, but that would explain the gunshots he heard from afar. He didn't give it another thought before continuing his search for you. He only had one goal, finding you, alive and bringing you back. Back home, not to this shitty apartment in Birmingham you told Simon about. No, he would make sure that you feel at home wherever you wanted and deep down he hoped it would be besides him.

"y/n, please tell me your location.", his voice was desperate. This silence killed him. He never hated silence, especially not when you were next to him. Your sheer presence providing him a feeling of safety. But this damn radio silence, not knowing what happened to you, or if you were injured. His mind already flashing him with images of a blood-stained body. An image that joined the row of images in his head. A deep groan left his throat, no, he wouldn't let this happen. You were not supposed to take a place with them. You're supposed to stay at his side. In that moment he wished that you were back at the patio. Watching as the sun lowers itself, painting the sky red and orange. In this comforting silence sharing those disgusting fags of yours. He hated them to be honest, but the small smile on your lips when he took one of them made it worthy. "Please, just anything."

That's when his eyes found something familiar. The little blue box he found some time ago on that same patio. At a time when he had never thought he would need you. But he did. He was on the right track. His eyes instinctively scanning for other hints when he finally heard your voice. Without hesitation and with a tight grip around the rifle he ran after the echo your scream was coming from. Hold on a little while longer, he thought to himself.

As soon as he rounded the corner he froze. A vicious frame burned itself inside his brain. A tall statue was holding you up in the air. A gloved hand around your throat, while the other pushed a knife into the side of your abdomen. Your hands clung sloppy on the arm of the man in front of you. The last attempt to keep the air flowing in your system. Your mask was crooked, making it even harder to breath. The tactic vest long gone from your body, ripped down leaving you only in your bodice, already soaked in the carmine liquid. Simon saw red. His mind was completely empty, only one thought was running through. You.

His temporarily paralyses lead to a huge mistake, something he would regret so often in his life. In those little seconds where he stood frozen, taking the scenery in front of him in, your opposite took notice of his appearance. Those seconds did decide about life or death of both of you. Before Ghost could draw his rifle and take him out, the man spun around, turning you with him. Your back pressed against his front. Leaving your throat, so you could finally breath a bit more. He held you close to his chest, using you as a shield as he drew his own gun and pressing the cold barrel against the side of your head. "Gun down, we don't want to destroy that pretty face, do we?!", he yelled over with a Russian accent, and it made Ghost's jaw clench. He was the reason you were in this situation. His emotions blinding him and now he wasn't able to make it up to you. But he had to. No matter what it takes, he would take care of you and bring you home. "Did I speak unclear?!", the man yelled again while pressing the cold metal even further into your skull. Your eyes were squeezed shut. You could barely make out the silhouette in front of you.

To your fortune he left the knife inside, that gave you a bit of a chance to not completely bleed out right here. Everything felt numb and sore at the same time. You could feel your eyes rolling back in your head. But you forced them back, using the last bit of adrenaline to look back onto Ghost and shaking your head. Only the slightest. Only to signaling him that it was okay. You knew they were safe. He should leave. Your eyes closed again. You knew you did all you could. Ghost slowly put the rifle down. Lifting his hands in defense. "Let her go and we'll leave.", he demanded but the man only laughed. Simon's hands were trembling. The anger inside of him as high as the anxiety. He couldn't afford to lose you. He didn't want to add your images to those of his family. He carefully took a step forward, what immediately earned him a shot in the air. A warning shot. He froze again. He only once felt so helpless before. But this situation was too new for him. He felt like drowning. He wanted to hold you, carrying you out of here back to your bed. You were so close to him and still, he couldn't reach you. What would Price say? What would Johnny say? What would Kyle say? It didn’t matter because he would rather die right here than seeing you all riddled up.

The next moment felt unreal to everyone in this room. Especially for the Russian. Before Simon even realized what happened, he saw both of you going down to the ground. He didn't need another signal, started sprinting towards you. Completely ignoring his own safety. You only felt another painful impact, before a darkness washed over your sight. Another crackle in his comms and there was this unfamiliar voice again. "The motherfucker is down!", but Simon didn't care about that guy. He only cared about you. He was already on his way. Your figure laying on the floor. Within seconds he was by your side, pulling you in his lap. Immediately ripping of the mask off your face to give you the chance to breathe properly before he checked your pulse. "Lieu....t..." your voice was raspy, and low, barely audible. "'m here. 'm here. Just stay with me, that's an order. Ya hear me.", he pressed you close to his chest, your head steadied in the crook of his neck. "Yer...yer not gettin’ ...rid of me that easily.", you breathed out exhausted, your accent thicker than usual. Every breath sent a piercing pain through your chest. Simon chuckled in relief, then there was another crack in the comms. A low laugh could be heard. You could hear it as well, as your head was close to Ghost's earpiece. You opened your heavy eyelids. "Always having your back, mein Engel." [my angel], the voice came again through the comms, sweeter and softer than before while your head fell back, even further into your Lieutenant and a smile appeared on your lips. "Get her out of here big boy.", a quick switch to the deeper demanding voice, "I'll cover you." Ghost nearly ignored him, he only had ears for your little pants, especially as you closed your eyes again. He shuffled you around and cupped your face. Making sure not to cause any more pain than anyhow.

"Eyes open, Sergeant. Look at me, Skadi.", he plead. "C'mon.", you could hear him, but it sounded so distant. "We need ya out of here. But ya need to open those pretty eyes f' me first.", you were sure you were already gone. His voice sounded so soft and the number of words. He never talked so much before. God, you wished he did. "y/n please, look at me." You slowly forced your eyes open, and they found his. Those dark eyes looking down at you, filled with worry but at the same time with determination and a hint of adoration. The way he looked at you changed since your first days with him, and a weak smile formed again on your lips, your face relaxed. If that would be the way you'd die, you'd be fine with it. Looking in his eyes, dying in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. Is that what Randy thought in his last moments? It felt peaceful.

"That's it, luv. Keep them open f' me." He didn't care about the choosing of his words, he didn't care about his heart nearly leaving his chest, he only cared getting you out of here. He pulled out the box you lost earlier. "Here, hold on. Randy will be pissed if ya’d lose it.", he pushed the box into your hands, and you clung to it with the rest of strength that was left in your body. Your eyelids weighted tons, but your tried to keep them focused on the little box in your hand and Simon's voice helped to keep your head clear. This beautiful melody in your ears, a melody that symbolized safety. Ghost pushed the button on his comms again "MacTavish, move the fuckin jeep over here.", he ordered before lifting you up as careful as possible. "Just hold on a little while longer."

He carried you through the mess of factory. Ignoring everything around him. His focused laid onto you, onto your chest that's still moving and on your eyes. He started searching for the jeep as soon as the beams of sunlight brushed over his eyes. "Don't leave me, ya hear me."

Johnny pulled over and Kyle helped to move you into it. Simon kept you in his lap, against his chest. His huge hands found your cheeks, tilting your head into his direction. "Not falling asleep on me this time, alright.", he said calm. Kyle held onto the weak body of the hostage while he yelled at Johnny as the jeep went through the thick vegetation, already taking care of medevac. Simon ignored them. He whispered sweet nothings and praises into your direction. Trying to suppress the panic in his voice. It only got worse when you slowly closed your eyes again. "No, no, no. Ya have to stay awake. Keep listin' to me. I know ya able to.", his voice was so broken. There were so many more things he wanted to say to you, so many things he wanted to show you. He needed more time. "y/n, please. Stay with me.", he bended over, bringing his masked head to yours. "Don't leave me.", his forehead pressed against yours, while keeping your body steady against his own. Johnny and Kyle still yelling at each other, while Soap drove like a madman.

"Simon...", your voice was weak, just a whisper but he heard you and nearly melted when you approached him. " 'm here, love." He moved his head away from yours to look at you. Your eyes were still closed, but your lips were moving. "Johnny told me...ya good with jokes. Think I need something... something to laugh.", you breathed out while still clinging to the box in your hand. Your voice was filled with pain; every word that left your lips hurt and still you were able to soften the tone. Simon let out a nearly inaudible chuckle. He wanted to scold you, tell you to spare your strength. Tell you so much more than a sloppy joke, but he didn't. " Why did the coffee call the police?”, he paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours.  “It got mugged.", his voice was so calm and soft. You did sink further into him while a weak chuckle left your lips. "That's...", you weren't able to complete the sentence anymore as you fell into a darkness. The grip around the box loosening. "No, nooo!!!", Simon's voice trembled, there were cracks in it. The silence was an old friend of him, but this friend pushed a knife right through his heart.

taglist: open just lmk

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool @spiritndrain

[amourdivine]

intuitive reading  ઉ   𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒.

hello, my angels! in this intuitive pick a card reading, i will be delivering some loving and gentle message from your spirit guides. i felt heavily called to channel something a little more healing yet still on the lighter side whilst cleansing my tarot deck. as always, please let me know if this resonates with you in some way! much love to you.

♡ ♡ ♡ personal readings are open, click here to know more!

how to choose your pile.  take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. which pile sparks a feeling inside you? which pile gives you a strong memory or calls out to you the most? take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

the piles.

1 → 2 3 → 4

disclaimer. this reading is for entertainment purposes only. it is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it, no one else! ♡

amourdivine. © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬.

Hello! If you’ve chosen pile one, welcome to your reading. I must say this feels love related, more romantic than platonic, but you’re allowed to take this message as it fits best for you. I’m playing a shufflemancy playlist in order to channel your messages and it feels blocked, stagnant and difficult. A lot of heartbreak songs started playing out of nowhere and many of them spoke of unrequited feelings or one-sided relationships. Does your chest feel heavy when it comes to love? Does it make you ache for something or someone that you feel it’s too far away to reach? Your guides want to talk to you about this - they want to soothe you. Cleanse you, almost.

Do you feel worthy of love? They are gently asking you these questions, like a mother who wants to know why their child is crying. It’s a very calming energy. Something is happening or has happened in your love life that made you shift your views on love to a much gloomier perspective that’s very far from reality. Rationally, you may know some things don’t work out for the best of us, but emotionally, it’s okay if it’s hard for you to understand your own emotions, to process them. There’s no rush in your time to dive deep within them, to understand why this situation brought you to your knees. Do you blame yourself for it? Maybe because they didn’t love you back? Maybe you thought you were a little “too much”? A little too rough or too soft around the edges? All you know is that whatever is it that they wanted, you felt you weren’t “it”. 

And that’s okay.

You can lay down all of these defenses and weapons and arrows and knives. There’s no actual reason to prove your worth to them. Maybe you loved them more than you could ever have thought loving someone was possible, but that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your guides want you to credit your big heart for loving someone. All this love came from you, from your inherent and infinite source of affection and potential for connection - not them. These feelings and the lovely moments you shared or wished for weren’t a waste. They only prove just how much you have left to live and give. And receive.

You’ll get it back tenfold. Love comes back around, it’s the only thing that always does. Maybe not in the way you expect it to, but in a much better way in which you ever hoped it would.

additional messages: "i wish you saw you the way i see you", break or bend, fitting in, playing it cool, poker face, 1515, fifteen, daydreaming, leaving a party early, champagne tears, "you. i wanted it to be you."

channeled song: take a bow by rihanna.

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑾𝑶.

Hello! If you’ve chosen pile two, welcome to your reading. There’s a huge sense of adventure within this pile. A feeling of “exploration” if you will. I can’t quite explain it. Are you starting over a new leaf? Getting into college or just fresh out of high school? I quite like it. You’re throwing yourself out there, a bit naive but open-hearted nonetheless. I’m not sure if you feel you’re inexperienced or if maybe you want new things to come to you after a long period of the same old things, but you’ve got your seatbelt on and it feels like it’ll speed up soon! In an overwhelming, exciting and thrilling way. You may be entering a period of “why not?” and simply do things for the sake of experiencing, for the sake of saying you did it, that you lived it. This feels.. divinely orchestrated. Fresh. Like spring fields and the smell of rain. It’s a forever young kind of energy, like being in the present moment whilst knowing you’ll remember it for days to come. But you may feel unsure, lost, a little all over the place or “of two minds.” Well, you’re on the right path - if there is such a thing as a right path, no?

All the roads lead to… exactly where you’re supposed to be, pile two. Cut yourself some slack. You’re already there. Already here. There’s a boundless desire for wanderlust, for adventure, for appreciating very silly and little things in your life. You’re experiencing joy again. Maybe for the first time in forever, or maybe for the first time in your entire life, you get a taste of the joy you ever so craved. Your guides want you to know you deserve it. There’s nothing you need to “earn” about joy, love and friendship. You simply get it because you’re human. Because it’s been such a long time since they’ve seen you shine in the way you’re meant to.

You get exactly that, the kind of life that is indeed living, not simply surviving. The kind of life you want to take pictures in your mind of. The kind of life you make playlists for, like a very long, warm and bright road trip into the sunset. Your guides love you so much, pile two.

PS: If you find it meaningful, you may wish to connect with angels and the divine realm more. 777 is a sign for you.

additional messages: weekend getaway, crystal clear, australia, new zealand, main character energy, coffee fueled nightmare, "young and in love," early to late 20s, "just say yes."

channeled song: always home by leucadia.

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬.

Hello! If you’ve chosen pile three, welcome to your reading. The message here came so strongly, I couldn’t help but wonder if you’re diving into shadow work or simply understanding and integrating the “darker” sides of you that have been shamed, shut down, ignored or avoided for a long time. There has to be more than good and bad and you’re right. Something about this pile is nuanced, complex and very gray-minded. I think you’re taking all of what has been judged and making it yours. Claiming the horrible and harsh moments of your life to say “to hell with it”, because you’re done pretending it didn’t hurt. You’re done pretending people haven’t done wrong by you, that you’re only “love and light.” You ache and fear and rage just like other beings out there.

Rage is radical. It’s the catalyst for the change that needs happening in our lives. Sadness brings acceptance, but rage throws your tears off the table, gives you the energy to change the things which you’ve acknowledged. Sadness has you writing letters you’ll never send. Rage burns them. Rage says “I’ll never be treated like that ever again.”

You’re not a villain for wanting respect. Even when you look into the mirror and only see the horrible things you were called a lifetime ago, you’re not wrong for wanting to be understood. Seen. Loved. The parts of you that ache are the ones that need - and deserve - healing the most. There’s no need to perform a “fully healed” version of you. There’s no “fully healed” version of you. It’s not a destination. 

It’s just you, right here, in this very moment, so, so human and so worthy of being embraced as you are. We’re all a little difficult to understand, a little complicated and afraid. I don’t think you should ever be ashamed of this depth and this darkness. Remember that wherever light goes, darkness has gotten there first. That’s something to be respected inside you - the parts of you that weren’t heard are begging to be listened to. They’re not bad, they’re just hurt.

additional messages: maleficent, "hurt people hurt people", 999, 666, burgundy red, shades of gray, "it comes & goes in waves", red flags, "maybe you saved me by letting me go," "from ashes flowers grow."

channeled song: siren by taeyeon | more by jhope (bonus)

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹.

Hello! If you’ve chosen pile four, welcome to your reading. I love the sweet nostalgia of your pile. You’ve been looking back, haven’t you? But fondly. I see someone going through a dusty shelf, picking up an old photo book (is that how people say it these days?) and feeling a little bit rusty… There’s some wishful thinking coming from you, from how much you miss certain things, certain people and places. But you know quite well you’ve outgrown them and there’s no need for you to go back, no matter how much you wish you could.

It’s a little bittersweet… but more sweet than bitter, I can assure you. You’ve come so far. Your guides just want to hold you, hug you. The battles you’ve fought were mostly on your own and no one was there to witness it but you. Well, you and the higher source you may believe in. You’ve moved on from so much hurt, but you wonder what’ll be left of you if not nostalgia. The love and the good memories aren’t any less real because of how much time has passed. I think the little kid inside of you wants to open up to the world a little bit again. Slowly, like you’re waking up from a deep sleep. Coming out of hiding, out of hermitting and holding all the weight of the world on your shoulders.

It’s true, you’re wiser. You’re older. But there’s no glory in remaining clueless. You’ve learnt a fair share of lessons and they were never meant to be punishments. Maybe you think you’re too old for all the things you crave now; like too much time has passed and you’ve been living in a different century. Pile four, you’re not made of glass. You never were. And maybe you stopped pursuing certain hobbies or passions because of good old societal norms and expectations. You’re not too old to watch a Disney movie. At the cinema or by yourself. You’re not too old for silly joys. You can afford to be silly, to be wise and to be knowledgeable all at the same time. What do you love? What do you want to do with what you have in the here and the now? How can you honor the little kid in those portraits? How can you honor the versions of you that didn’t know better?

additional messages: "never grow up", white/pink teddy bear, dusty shelves, attic, old book, singing lullabies, polaroid pictures, sepia, black & white, amelie (the movie), "everything you lose is a step you take."

channeled song: easy by morning midnightt | overture by roh young sim (bonus song).

amourdivine. © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[sefinaa]

Something you need to know about yourself that is blocking your manifestations + Advice

YouTube | Masterlist

Tips | Paid Readings

Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition.

Author’s note,

Remember, no one can take away our manifestations that rightfully belong to us. You are worthy of your manifestations and deserve to blossom in your desired way.

Credit

PART 2: 4-6. Everything was too chaotic and harder to read because i channeled so much!

Pile 1:

Protect your energy.

I hear right off the bat.. someone has a cheating ex who they keep going back to..(this pile energy is making me so depressed). You must cut them out immediately, I understand you think this person is going to change but they won’t, and they won’t in the future. I see in the future, if you do decide to stay, they will mentally kill you and drain you to the point where you want to end it.. please leave. This relationship isn’t worth it, and it is certainly not worth your precious heart. Stop manifesting for them to change because they won’t, and they aren’t worth it at all. Not even one dot. They don’t deserve your energy nor your prayers. Everything about them isn’t good, baby, just leave, okay?

Now, my intuition is screaming at me to say this message before I give you some advice. ‘’My dearest, you no longer need a vampire like such. They are no good and don’t deserve the passion and the love you put into them. seek comfort and delicacy elsewhere. Find it through your passions, loved ones, and in oneself. Seek an adventure elsewhere and vouch for yourself instead of them. scream their name on top of the hill and leave it there.. forget them as for they are the wicked of the dams. You must not be weak for them as your heart is the purest, find yourself once more and surely you will find a worthy lover. Mark my words as this is the truth and know you are the most trusted and powerful one of the current situation.’’

My advice is to leave, yes, but that may be hard from what I channeled for you, so I will recommend something that may help. I hear that they’re clingy and draining and I hear you’re the type to message back even though you don’t want to because you feel bad. So, I want you to distance yourself each day, they message you? message at night. The next day, they message again? Message after 3 days. Keep at this and remove your attachments, you can remove this through meditation, affirmations, or a desired technique you prefer.

If you’re truly up for it, you can block them immediately and not entertain the thoughts about them because at the end of the day, are they worth being in your mind? No. intuition says they gave you a big apology and you’re debating whether or not to go back, don’t. just don’t.

I’m going to give you a surprise you deserve to know. When you block them, unfriend them, etc., your life will become better, and I don’t mean to be kind. I mean that you’re going to find the right person for yourself after a year of transforming your life for the better. Whatever you thought about using to improve yourself, do it!!! That’s the key and then bam, you get what you desire!!!

Pile 2:

Accept your manifestations

Your manifestations arrived to you so why wont you accept? Why are you waiting for the right time or diving timing? What are you doing, sweetheart? Accept your manifestations already.

There is no such as you do not deserve them, if they came to YOU, then you DESERVE it. It is that simple.

Your pile is very simple and less complicated than the right, you’re on the right past so why did you decide to yourself that you don’t need it or want it? Just take the offer that you were given, yes, I am speaking to the majority of you who decline your offer with getting a promotion or a job proposal, and I know some of you are scared, some think they will think you are not qualified, but you know those are you fears, don’t let them manifest. Tell yourself this, ‘’why am I no longer scared? Why did I get the offer?’’ this will trick your logical mind and your logical mind will find the solutions for this to manifest.

For the rest of you, stop complaining. I hear some of you are complaining your manifestations didn’t come in the way you wanted. Things happen for a reason first, so perhaps you need this to learn a lesson, that is what you’re thinking, right? No. manifestations come in all different forms to us, and we don’t even realize that is the best way for us until the end.

Pile 3:

Be your own person

You need to stop watching a lot of videos associated with manifestations, stop searching and looking up the best way to manifest. Stop doing other people’s techniques. Start making your own techniques. You keep doing everyone’s technique and then you question why it doesn't work. I can see that you are restless and agitated by your results and you are trying to understand why nothing is coming to you. ‘’Why aren’t my manifestations coming to me??’’ My love, manifestations are all about persistence and belief. If you assume that they aren't coming to you and you tell yourself, ‘’okay I’m going to try this technique, I hope this work.’’ How are you supposed to elevate yourself in the right frequency to get your desires?

My advice is to make your own technique and assume that is what will work. Because as I mentioned before, manifestation is all about belief and persistence. If you believe that your manifestation technique will work, then it will work. So, stop killing yourself over it and start to ignore the 3D, because that is merely a mirror and it’s not important. Assume the 4D is yours and that’s all you need to worry about it.

[kiindr]

it’s the most heartbreaking yet absolutely normal thing to me when people reblog or reply to my posts with stuff like “am i really all that you’re saying?” or “am i really worthy of it all?” and stuff along those lines.

i know it might be hard to believe right now. sometimes, i don’t believe it myself. all of these things, the dislike that we harbour towards ourselves, the distorted perceptions we might have of ourselves and of the world- all of it has taken a lifetime to build.

it will not go away by just reading a random post on tumblr or even within a few sessions of therapy. it’ll all take time and tremendous effort.

but you know what?

i’m willing to stand right here and watch you grow. i’m willing to have patience for you, something that you might feel other people don’t have for you a lot of times.

that’s okay. we can’t control how others feel or behave. but i’m choosing to consciously be here and let you know that even if it’s just one person who does, someone cares (and there are a lot many more but that’s a matter for another day).

i wish you a lot of success on your journey to becoming the best version of yourself. thank you for continuing to carry on despite all the hardships that have been thrown your way.

you’re a lot more resilient than you give yourself credit for :)

[seizethedre]

(In the Land of Gods and Monsters)

Chapter Six: Living in the Garden of Evil

The King of Hell is a real piece of work, but he's getting there. The Radio Demon is a piece of work too, but he seems much more content to stay where he is, which is fine too. Somehow, they manage.

Ten thousand years of being the supreme ruler of Hell tended to teach you a thing or two about yourself. For one, Lucifer was powerful-–like really powerful. And while the other Sins came close to that power, none of them could ever quite measure up to the fallen angel. 

Lucifer had always known his strength, of course. Even in Heaven, he knew his status and his gifts were worthy of envy, you know, if angels were capable of such feelings. Sinners certainly wanted his power, just ask any overlord out there. The occasional coup was nothing new, either, and the king had come to expect one every few centuries or so, with just enough time between them for the shockwaves of the last one to settle and the balance of powers to redistribute themselves again.

It was never anything to worry about and most ended with big, scary tough guys reduced to blubbering pools of tears as they pleaded for their afterlives. And no, he wasn’t exaggerating when he said that a sinner’s existence could be obliterated with a single bored blink of his eye.

Not that Lucifer particularly enjoyed killing sinners all willy-nilly, but he had to maintain law and order somehow, and being in Hell the options for doing so were already severely limited. So squashing bad guys it was. Did he feel bad about it? Not really. He’d never felt that same loyalty to his people that his ex-wife and daughter did, and quite frankly he’d stopped trying to force it out of himself a few thousand years ago, but he was trying. Recent events and relationships persuaded him to reconsider his stance on sinners and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to get it.

Still, you couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to flaunt his power every now and then. There was, after all, no comparison to it in the entirety of the Seven Rings. Sometimes he couldn’t help himself and no one ever said that the First Temptation was ever immune to temptations himself.

Embodiment of pride aside, Lucifer should also be recognized as the embodiment of patience. You would think that after waiting for the creation of literally everything that people would give him more credit when it came to letting the stars align and fall into place at their own pace. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case and more often than not the assumption was that the King of Hell was an impatient little snake who wanted things done his way or no way at all.

Father, you push your agenda one time and suddenly you’re labeled as a devil for the rest of forever.

And so what if today happened to be one of the few times where Lucifer wished the stars would just go off and fuck themselves, alignment be damned. There wasn’t much that got him real fired up these days and his mind had been brewing all night long, practically vibrating in his bed where he tossed and turned restlessly, anxiously waiting for darkness to creep into something light enough that would allow him to bounce off the walls without making the other residents think he was an unreasonable loon. 

After running their little taste-testing errand the other day, Alastor and Lucifer had returned to the hotel in one piece-–much to the surprise of everyone else. The former didn’t linger long enough, slipping into a pool of vaporous shadow before he could be subjected to  Angel’s remarks about how their orderly states were clearly an indication of a budding, yet taboo love affair, because why else wouldn’t there be a single scratch on either of them? Thankfully, the king didn’t have to come back at him with anything before Husk smacked the spider upside the head with an irritated ‘Quit your yapping.’ And you know what, grouchiness aside, the guy was really starting to grow on Lucifer. 

Ha-ha! Take that, yapper.

The little excursion of his had served as a perfect reminder of what Lucifer had been missing. Clearly it had been a while since he’d really gotten himself out there, really gotten to know the people he ruled. Regardless of how they wound up here, they surely couldn’t be all bad. I mean, Wilson, at least he was pretty sure lizard-man’s name was Winston, was a fucking baker for crying out loud! There’s no way a guy who cares that much about the precision of the length of his decorative chocolate shavings can be a complete asshole, right? And if Lucifer was wrong about him, who knew what else he could be wrong about. 

Okay, so maybe he owed a little bit of this change in heart to Charlie and her friends, but he couldn’t argue the fact that they were a good influence on him. The simple fact that they stuck by the hotel to defend it spoke volumes of their character and commitment to its cause. Sure they had a few screws loose, but who didn’t own here? The fact of the matter is, they were living proof that even if redemption for a sinner in Hell wasn’t possible, at least change for the  better was still on the table. See, even the embodiment of Pride himself could admit when he was wrong, and maybe this was one of those times. And maybe that was all thanks to his daughter

Charlie had always been a bit of a bleeding heart. For years, this had worried her father tremendously. Hell was no place for such a tender spirit, and he was afraid that this place and these people would eat her alive just to spit her out and stomp all over her. The older she got the more he had tried to protect her from that, even when he wasn’t around. 

When she had first called him all those months ago asking for a shot to convince Heaven to let sinners prove themselves, Lucifer shot her down immediately. Not because he didn’t trust her vision, but because he didn’t trust Heaven. For all their talk about love and forgiveness, they were notorious for maintaining the status quo, regardless of how many souls they harmed in the process. Expecting to be disappointed in Hell was a given, but to have your hopes and dreams dashed by those meant to uplift and promote them was another and the thought of her enduring that all alone just as he had all those millennia ago broke his heart.

But she’d done it. She faced the firing squad all on her own and despite their treatment she continued to fight for her righteous cause, for her people and her friends. Lucifer couldn’t take credit for that courage. Maybe at one point, perhaps almost too long ago could he say that his heart burned with that same fire, but times, circumstances, had changed and he had no choice but to change alongside them. He was proud of his little girl, and now that he was here and determined to stick by her until the very end, whatever it would turn out to be, he wanted to help as much as he could.

And who knew, maybe in doing this, in helping Charlie, he would be able to reunite himself with that version of him that got a little lost along the way.

He also couldn’t deny the fact that Alastor’s little back-handed intervention sparked some new encouragement in him, too, as much as he hated to admit it. The demon was infuriating, but he’d had a point when he said that Lucifer was worrying pointlessly over things that didn’t require it. Instead, he decided that he would channel some of that energy into something productive, and hey, wouldn’t you know it Charlie maybe your little group therapy sessions really do hold up.

 Plus, it was about time he stopped holing himself in his rooms all the damn time, it didn’t really do anyone any good and besides, he was starting to look a little pale-–ha! He figured it wouldn’t hurt the hotel’s image, or his own for that matter, to be seen around the hotel playing a more conducive role than a scary guard dog. Surely people would be more willing to come and visit if they knew their friendly neighborhood devil was around to lend a helping hand. Who knows, maybe if things turned out as well as he hoped, Charlie would put him back on the welcoming committee.

Point of the matter was, Lucifer felt he had a lot more to offer than sitting around and pulling a mean face every now and then. He wanted to contribute to the hotel in a way that was productive and lent itself to the betterment of his people. He had learned a thing or two in his long life and was sure at least some of that had to come in handy at one point or another. And if this idea of his really did work out, it could help alleviate some of the burden that Charlie shouldered day in and day out. 

So, as the barest trickle of light crept past his curtains from outside, Lucifer sprang from his bed and set off to accomplish the first-–and only-–thing on his to-do list: start an art therapy club!

With a snap of his fingers the bed was remade with fresh linens, the old ones appearing in the basement’s laundry room. Thinking about his day, he settled on a more casual outfit befitting of the more casual events he had in mind, foregoing the hat and coat he typically opted for on more glamorous occasions. He then ran his fingers through his hair, allowing just enough of  his grace to flow past his fingertips to smooth and style his bed head into something neat and presentable, befitting of the King of Hell. Grace was by far the best hair product out there, hell knows how people lived without it. If he could bottle it up and sell it, he was sure it would sell out in minutes and he’d be swimming in cash, but some tricks were better left unrevealed. 

Pep in his step, he strode down the stairs, making it down the third flight before he decided that he simply couldn’t wait any longer and opened up a portal to the front lobby. Snapping it shut behind him, he took a look around the empty room, trying to figure out where Charlie might be that morning.

After he swung by to see if she and Vaggie were setting up for this morning’s bonding exercise in the parlor, he trotted along into the kitchen for some coffee. Hey, what’s that they say about two birds and a stone?

Much to his disappointment, there was no sign of Charlie once he parted his way past the double doors. There was, however, sign of a certain deer-man, and by sign he meant the whole fucking person. 

Alastor was sitting in his usual spot at the head of the dining table, you know, the one he had refused to give up despite the literal ruler of Hell being much more worthy of it. Not that Lucifer was still bitter about that or anything. The demon was reading the morning newspaper, steaming cup of something dark and bitter in a hot pink mug. Not exactly intimidating, but who was Lucifer to judge when his own mug sported the images of several cartoon ducks. However this was the first time that he noticed there was actual writing on the mug, which he craned his neck to read.

“Does your mug say ‘Oh Deer’ on it?”

“Hm?” Alastor hums, turning the mug in his hand as though observing it for the first time. “Why yes, it would appear to say just that. Very observant, Your Majesty. I see you’ve taken my advice and invested in some cognitive exercises. I’ve always been of the opinion that reading is good for the soul and the mind.”

“Har har, you’re especially hilarious in the morning, has anyone ever told you so?”

“I have been told that I have quite the sense of humor. Who am I to argue with the masses?”

Lucifer pulled a face at his reply, just an impulse away from sticking his tongue out at the back of the sinner’s head for good measure. Eh, why not. It’s not like he could see him anyway.

“I saw that.” 

Shit . That was creepy

“You deserved it,” he sang in response, plucking his mug from its designated hook and filled it with coffee. It was still hot and warmed his hands deliciously. He took a cautious sniff and although it certainly smelled normal enough, he knew he could never be too careful.

“Did you brew the coffee this morning?”

“I don’t believe that anyone else was awake to do it.” Fair point.

“...Did you poison it?”

Alastor set the paper down with a huff, ears twitching in irritation. 

“Do you really think I would be drinking it if I had?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t actually seen you drink it since I got here.” Alastor says nothing, but raises his mug dramatically to his lips and takes a long sip, flicking his gaze pointedly in the king’s direction. Lucifer watches suspiciously for a few moments after he sets his mug back down on the table with a little clack.

“Satisfied?”

“For now. I suppose.” He takes his own careful sip and smacks his lips. His impeccable palate has never failed him before, and today it’s telling him that he’ll live to see another day. Hooray!

“I don’t know why you throw such a fuss over such trivial things. It’s not like there’s anything that I could actually harm you with in this realm.” And oh, was that irritation Lucifer was picking up on? Genuine emotion from mister Big and Bad himself? Rarely did anyone ever get anything but mockery and sarcasm out of the guy, so this morning was already shaping up to be a good one by Lucifer’s standards.

“Hm, you know if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re a little upset that I’m always one step ahead of you. What’s the matter, deer , afraid of being outsmarted?

“Not at all, Your Majesty .” he ground out between clenched teeth. “ I would simply think that you would have more faith in your own durability, rather than throw a fit any time I’m near something you  hope to ingest. Heaven forbid the word gets out that Hell's one and only monarch is a fragile little thing. Oh my, think of the headlines!”

“Aw, Al, I didn’t realize how much you cared. No need to worry about me, though. I’m a big boy who can  handle himself, thanks.”

“I know you may find it difficult to believe, but my thoughts don’t always revolve around you. And my name is Alastor . I’d appreciate it if you could struggle to the end of it. I know that’s a lot to ask of  you these days.” That smile had curved into something mean, challenging even.

 Okay, so that’s how he wants to play, huh? Bring it on then.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, coffee long forgotten as flames licked the back of his mouth, ready to spew.

“Good morning, Alastor! How did you-–Oh! Dad, you’re here, too! Good morning!”

One of Charlie’s many gifts was her impeccable timing. Growing up, she always knew just the right moment to enter a room and  catch her parents in, erm, more compromising positions.. That was why her sudden bursting into the kitchen right as verbal fists were about to start flying came to no one’s surprise, especially her father’s. These days, it seemed that sixth sense of hers came in handy when it boiled down to preventing altercations before they escalated to property damage proportions. Crisis thoroughly averted, the flames smothered as Lucifer beamed at his little girl. Alastor spared the smaller man a twitch before resuming his study of the morning paper.

“Char-Char! How’s my little girl doing this fine morning? Slept well, I hope?” The king bounced himself into one of the barstools at the breakfast bar. He cupped his face in his hands as he leaned intently over the counter, eyes sparkling as he watched Charlie grab two mugs for coffee. 

Was he overbearing? Perhaps a little, but he couldn’t help that his sweet daughter was like a literal ray of sunshine in this dark and smelly pit he called home. She dove right into her coffee, clearly oblivious to the dangers of potential-assassination attempts, which he would definitely be speaking to her about later. She sighed, releasing a breath as she forced her shoulders to relax.

“Good coffee, Al. As always.” The demon merely hummed his acknowledgement of the compliment, not bothering with taking his eyes off of the news. She turned her attention to the angel. “I slept well, dad, thanks for asking. Thank god because I have so much to do today.” Charlie began rattling off the items on her mental to-do list, going from casual to agitated in the span of a few seconds.

“First I have to go over the final decorations for the Open House–-again, thank you so much for covering desserts, you’re a real life-saver, dad. Then there’s some laundry I promised Niffty I would help her with in the afternoon, and our yoga instructor was murdered last night so I have to figure out how to fill his time slot in the evening  and on top of that it’s my turn to cook dinner tonight and Vaggie won’t be around to help this time so it’s going to take me twice as long as it usually does. Ooh, that’s not even including the meeting I have with Aunty Bee about those new spirits for the bar and--”

“Whoa, whoa,” Lucifer interrupted, seeing no end in sight to her itinerary and only mounting levels of stress. “Pause for a second, Charlie. Breathe. There you go.” She’d gone red in the face at that point, her tail springing out from agitation and best get that under control before she started knocking things, or people, over. The princess smiled sheepishly, mumbling her apologies .

“My, that does seem like quite the list of chores you’ve got there. But, leave it to our dear Charlie to get it all done.” Lucifer scowled over his shoulder at the demon sipping casually from his mug without a single care in the world.

“Um, excuse me, Al , but  I was under the impression that you were brought on board to help run the hotel. Shouldn’t you be helping out here?”

“Hm, shouldn’t you , Your Majesty? I do recall you saying something about wanting to play a more active role in your daughter’s life. Now would be the perfect time to do just that, don’t you think so, dear?”

Alastor finally put the damn newspaper down, settling his smile first on Lucifer before swiveling it over to Charlie, who had been standing around suspiciously quiet as the two men went at it. She startled at the mention of her name, eyes going big and round as though caught in the middle of something she really didn’t want to be a part of. 

“Um, well, I-–”

“Of course I’m going to help her,” Lucifer yelled, cutting Charlie off before she could finish her thought. “In fact, we’re both  going to help you, sweetie. Isn’t that right, Al?” Try to weasel your way out of it now, bitch.

“I appreciate the offer, dad really, but I don’t want you to feel like this is something you have to do. You’re a busy guy, I get that. I’m sure Alastor has his own things to do, too. Plus,” she added quietly, “I know how easily you get overwhelmed these days. It’s okay, I can handle this.” Lucifer faltered at her words, visibly deflating and allowed his facade to fall for a split second before throwing an arm around her shoulder and grinning.

“Nonsense, Charlie! In fact, that’s exactly why I wanted to talk to you this morning. Yoga man couldn’t have picked a better time to die, ha ha!” Hm, poor choice of words maybe, but honest nonetheless. “What would you think about filling that evening slot with an art therapy session? Led by yours truly, of course.” 

Charlie seemed to mull it over as Lucifer held his wide smile, examining her face as she went through the pros and cons. On one hand, she knew that her dad didn’t exactly have a one-track mind, in fact most of the time he was the entire train station. And although she didn’t doubt his capacity for patience and empathy, a lot of sinners that came through the hotel required a more delicate hand and her dad tended to fall on the more oblivious side of the spectrum when it came to emotional cues. 

On the other hand, this could turn out to be a really good thing. For the hotel and for her dad. She knew he really was trying to change, to see these people as his own. Perhaps spending time with them while doing something that he loved was the motivation he needed to finally get him to where he needed to be. And if she was being honest, her dad was a really talented artist. For years she had wondered why he never truly divulged that part of himself with others, outside of his ducks, of course, but she’d concluded that for some reason his art was deeply personal and emotional to him. The fact that he was offering to share it with strangers all in the name of progress was monumental and she was wise enough to understand just how big of an ask this was.

“Are you sure about this dad? I don’t want you to feel pressured into taking on a challenge that you’re not ready for.” Her smile was small, but sincere, eyes shining with nothing but love and understanding. The sight was almost enough to bring tears to her father’s eyes. His daughter truly was the best. 

“Don’t worry about me, ducky. Your old man can handle it. Would I offer to do it if I wasn’t sure?”

“I suppose not,” she sniffed, brushing a finger under her eye. “Thanks, dad.”

The two embraced, Charlie crouching down a bit so Lucifer could run a gentle hand over her hair, a larger imitation of how he used to cradle her in his arms when she was little and in need of a good cuddle.

This is nice , Lucifer thought to himself. He couldn’t have asked for a better outcome to this conversation.

“What a tender moment. I hate to interrupt, but I’ll be doing so anyway. Charlie dear, don’t you worry your silly little head about dinner tonight. I would be more than glad to step in. Rosie shared the most delightful little recipe with me just the other day and this is as good an excuse as any other to try it out.” The demon blinked, all wide smile and bright eyes as the pair in front of him turned a pale green at his suggestion for supper. “I will be going the vegetarian route, rest assured!” Oh, okay, yeah that’s more like it.

“Really, Al? Aw, you guys are so sweet. You don’t know how much this means to me. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Charlie, whose tears had finally settled down, tried to smile through wobbly lips and glistening eyes. Alastor waved a hand dismissively in her direction.

Oh, don’t thank me. I think I speak for all of us when I say I’d be doing us a favor in cooking our meal knight in your place. The kitchen is practically brand new, it would be a shame to let it go up in flames so soon, hm?”

“Alastor,” the king warned.

“No dad, it’s okay. He’s right. I didn’t exactly inherit the cooking gene, did I?” And Lucifer found that he couldn’t necessarily argue with that point either.

“You just need a little more practice, that’s all,” he tried, a half-hearted grin hanging off his lips. The princess just laughed, visibly far more relaxed than she had been ten minutes ago. Good, good. 

“Well, this has been a delightful morning, you two, but I’m afraid I must be off now. Important things to do and whatnot. A hotelier’s work is never quite done, after all. Ta ta!” 

With a warp of white noise, the Radio Demon melted into the shadows at his feet, taking with him the ambient noise that had accompanied their morning encounter.

“Huh, that was weird,” Charlie said absently.

“Hm?” Lucifer inquired, raising a brow.

“Al didn’t take his staff with him. He usually never leaves without it.” She paused, seeming to consider something for a few seconds. ‘Come to think of it, he hasn’t had it out much lately either. Not in the hotel at least. It could be nothing,” she rushed to add, seeing the wary interest on the king’s face and immediately knowing that she had let her mouth run unsupervised for far too long. “I know he can pull it out of whatever pocket dimension or wherever he keeps it anytime he wants, I just thought it was odd that he doesn’t seem to be using it as much lately. I’m sure it’s nothing.” She looked around the room anxiously, eyes settling on her watch.

“Oh! Look at the time! I gotta go dad, I’m supposed to be helping Vaggie set up for trust exercises this morning. Love you, bye!” With those parting words she scurried out of the room, hands loaded up with two lukewarm mugs of coffee.

So Charlie had noticed Alastor’s odd behavior too, huh? She was far more observant than people gave her credit for, that much is true. 

Lucifer thought back to the last time he’d seen Alastor with his staff, when he was out in public galavanting around Pentagram City with the tall cannibal woman. But Charlie was right, now that he thought about it, it had been a while since he’d actually seen the demon conjure it up within the safety of the hotel, if at all. Not since he mysteriously reappeared after the hotel was rebuilt, seemingly unscathed despite squaring off with Adam.

The devil’s thoughts were racing now, branching out and spiraling in all sorts of directions, jumping to conclusions just to dismiss them and start anew. Despite the web of emotions and possibilities, the overarching truth that stood out from all of the questions and half-threaded leads was that Alastor was hiding something. Maybe even something big. And Lucifer would rather fall all over again than turn a blind eye to something that could endanger his little girl and this new life they were building together.

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[ariesmoontarot]

Fire Sign Reading🔥

Aries♈️ :

I feel like you’re coming out of a situation you felt like wasn’t moving forward. You’re looking at things differently now and I feel like deep down you intuitively knew the truth or answers you were looking for. You just needed to trust and have confidence that despite what people say or do, your body just senses when something isn’t right. You underestimate your own ability to do a lot of things and I feel like in this situation you have more power than you give yourself the credit for. I see you moving strategically and quietly. You’re observing and sensing out your surroundings and the people around you. Pay attention to the details and the things you hear, see, feel, or sense. It’s best to not say too much about the things you pick up on at this time. You have the upper hand in most of the situations you find yourself in, but don’t misuse the information and secrets that you know about because I feel like it won’t turn out good. I also feel like you need to be very careful about what you say and do to others. Someone you wanted a relationship or connection with took advantage of your kindness and I feel like while you’re calm and focused on priorities this person is dealing with some shit. They didn’t take accountability for their wrong doings and I just see karma happening to them now. They tried to act nonchalant and as if they were being so genuine and honest with you but deep down they had ulterior motives and them trying to manipulate you is coming back to them in tenfold. They’re being pushed to face the consequences of their actions now.

Leo♌️:

Right now I’m seeing you looking at the possibility of what something could be but you don’t know how to make it a reality. It’s almost like you were down & out feeling a lil bit insecure and dealing with this lower vibrational energy and not satisfied with your career or what you do to make a living. I see you realizing something about someone though and it has to do with them being someone who is very genuine, loving, compassionate, & kind. You see this person for who they really are and it kinda makes you feel inferior towards them and not worthy of being someone they’d even want to be friends or have something serious with. You’re shocked on how someone could be so real or maybe how their presence and energy alone just makes you feel a way that you haven’t felt in a long time. However, I feel like you’re holding onto control as much as you can and trying to resist the fact that you want to be the person they can depend on and trust or maybe you see that you can do this with them and you want to, but stop yourself from fully opening up. You could feel like you need to change something before you let them come too close, but it’s like you can’t help what’s happening and it’s just happening on its own. I also feel like you’re procrastinating doing anything about how you feel because you’re afraid to trust and open yourself up to a deep connection. This person makes you feel so tamed like they really got a hold on you. They’re showing you a completely different side of yourself. You feel like they’re really gentle and it’s easy to let your guard down with them almost like you melt when you interact with them in any way. I’m seeing because of how supportive and nurturing they are, it just helps you a lot. It’s safe to say you can love and have faith that things will work out the way they’re supposed to. Let go of your fears and pride.

Sagittarius♐️:

I’m seeing you withdrawing yourself from a situation that left you feeling pessimistic and a lack of hope. You feel like you didn’t get the recognition and appreciation that you deserved and maybe you’re having a hard time letting go of negative thoughts related to that experience. It’s keeping you a bit stuck on the feeling and you’re emotionally and physically overwhelmed. I feel like right now is a good time for you to get your mind right and really focus on what you need to. Focus on more positive and productive things rather than replaying the scenarios in your mind. You are juggling a lot of things right now and you don’t need anything or anyone that is going to bring you more stress than you already feel. I’m seeing that you’re very aware of what’s going on around you even beneath the surface of what’s physically shown or said to you. You see past the illusions and excuses people may tell you, but you choose to act ignorant and blind to the fact that deep down you really know what’s going on. However I see you having a sudden change of perspective and looking at things for what they really are. There is a need for you to be more patient and practical when it comes to allowing things into your life that you see as valuable or important. You have to prioritize what you know in your heart is best for you. You may be feeling depressed and sad right now and that’s your body’s way of communicating to you that clearly something just isn’t right and whether you need to change something you’re doing or cut certain things out of your life, you know what you need to do.

[prettyboykatsuki]

That’s exactly what I want tbh, I love being psychoanalyzed lmao! I’d love to hear all your insight. Thank you for even indulging me <3

I’m a cisfem ISFJ! :D

If you’re also familiar with enneagram, I’m still trying to figure that out, but I think I’m either a 2 or a 9!

oh hi!!! as a disclaimer im really just working on assumptions so maybe not everything applies to you!! like im truly and sincerely just generalizing common type trends. also if ur an isfj i would bet on u being type nine

an isfj.... i feel like despite u guys being common i actually rarely meet you out in the real world. isfjs are interesting because you only have a one letter diffrence from infjs but it has a drastic impact on your behavior since you're a sensing type (you are far less angsty than your counterpart lmao)

most isfjs know tend to be unexpectedly social but weirdly do not believe they have actual friends with the exception of a few. a lot of isfj have friends that surprise other people. the stereotype around being warm and compassionate is usually true but it comes with an unexpected complex as a result of how often people rely on you for support vs how often people actually thank you.

you take things personally in that aspect but because of what roles you take on tend to bury those things until some other part of your life collapses though it takes a while for you to register you doing them. worst case scenario is a nervous breakdown about it

isfjs have a tendency to date people who stand out in some way or have a large presence. in a positive aspect, it gives them room to stand up for themselves but in a negative aspect it results in them being looked over even more than they were prior to the relationship. the best kind of partner for isfjs are ones that can specifically uplift them when trying or wanting to do new things, as you guys struggle with feeling confident enough to go out of your comfort zone

many isfjs feel insecurity over the idea of accomplishment and measure self worth in what they have yet to achieve. im not sure what part of your function stack makes it happen but isfjs tend to view the idea of achievement with pragmatic and measurable goals so you underestimate your natural talents often of socialzation.

(you also for whatever reason assume everyone else can do what you do. they can't btw)

isfjs imo are the backbone of hospitality and social structure. you're not consciously doing things that bring harmony in a way some other Feeling types might but your ability to mix with multiple crowds does it inadvertently and you are an important but underrated player in many parts of your life so you're not just imagining the feeling of being overlooked

its good you want to take more control over your life and its good for you keep trying new things. while other people down play you though, you should try to avoid doing it to yourself. the life youve built through lifelong skills is also worthy of admiration. i think you probably over complicate your thoughts w this very distant version of your greater self but its not needed. u are important as u are and u have much greater of an impact than u give yourself credit for

[heymacy]

hello little stars and welcome back to Tag Game Tuesday: Spring Edition! 🌸 (i realize that for half of the world it’s actually autumn, but we’ll just pretend i’ve got you all gathered up at my place, okay?)

your name: macy 🐭

where in the world are you? chicago 🏙️

your favorite color: green 🌿

a song that always puts you in a good mood: “Lean Into Life” by Petey ☀️

your favorite flower: sunflowers 🌻

it’s a beautiful sunny day and you’re going on a picnic with friends. what snack are you bringing to share? cheese! all the cheese!! 🧀

bumblebees or butterflies? bumblebees 🐝 (i’m terrified of butterflies)

describe your ideal weather: mid-50s and rainy with super cloudy skies 🌧️

what are you reading right now? nothing 🥺 all i do is work and drive and work and drive and work and and and—

museum date or nature walk? both in the same afternoon, please and ty! 🖼️🌱

it’s movie night in the park and your turn to choose, what are we watching? Portrait of a Lady on Fire 🔥

and finally, share some sunny words for your friends & followers: you are worthy of love simply by existing and you are far more capable than you give yourself credit for 💛

i’m tagging @gardenerian, @iansfreckles, @greggster, @whatwouldmickeydo, @metalheadmickey, @heymrspatel, @gallawitchxx, @whatthebodygraspsnot, @7x10mickey, @y0itsbri, @sleepyfacetoughguy, @thisdivorce, @squidyyy23, @vintagelacerosette, @crossmydna, @captainjowl, @rereadanon, @xninetiestrendx, @energievie, @creepkinginc, @mishervellous, @howlinchickhowl, @too-schoolforcool, @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @shameless-notashamed, @lalazeewrites, @whaticameherefor, @ardent-fox, & @auds-and-evens 💛