#echoes sleep token
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Espera/Echoes 🤝 IV.
(Source - the amazing tnbty_)
@moonchild-in-blue because Espera/Echoes.
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The first time I heard someone call The Espera that, I originally mistook it for the Latin word 'Aspera', which translates to 'hardships' or 'rough'. Asides from it being in a Ghost song, it's most common use is in the phrase 'per aspera ad astra' which means 'through hardship to the stars.'
My mishearing aside, in Spanish, there's also the verb 'esperar', which has the future conjugation 'espera', which means 'wait'.
I like to combine the two into the phrasing 'wait for the hardships. They will pass', and think they're named that way because they're singing an echo of Vessel's suffering. Kind of like they're affirming him in some way.
#something a little random but still#before they were called this (when they were still just considered backing singers/'the vesselettes') my friend and I called them 'Echos'#(still linking it to Per Aspera etc. here)#because they echo the stars (Vessel)#I just think they're neat#mel's rambles#sleep token#st#esperas#espera
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TOOK ME ALL DAY BUT I DID IT!!!!
@moonchild-in-blue im so sorry that i am tagging you so much.
*the echos working*
*SLAM!!*
IV: *walking into the kitchen as he ties up his hair*
IV: Hows work ladies? not his sweater, not hiding shit
the Echos: hes not hiding it AT ALL
IV: What?
Evaline: Hows your bassist~ elanor & evie making fun of IV
IV: CRAP!!
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im trying to figure out how to draw the echos/esperas without making them straight up the esperas but also keeping them looking somewhat like them?
first of all we have Evaline, Erie, & Elanor (not the actual esperas names obviously. because im ✨OC-ifying✨ them) it is in order btw.
i did “try” to draw them how i remember them. ive seen some photos of them on their insta. but i have bad memory, and wanted to see if i could make my own renditions just from the foggy memory)
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the bitches group chat
III: he put hickeys all over my pecs II: whose “he”? III: the baker :3 Vessel: YOU SLEPT WITH IVY????? III:… III: yeah Vessel: AND YOU DIDNT TELL US??? III: i can tell you how it was~ II:… II: come home NOW!
#sleepy cryptid boys#sleep token#oc token#vessel iv#the echos#the duck finds prompts#vessel#the brain duck#the duck can draw#sleep token fanart#sleep token headcanons#sleep token ii#sleep token fanfiction#iii sleep token#sleep token art#sleep token groupchat shenanigans
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#29 in spotify wrapped?
HI ECHOO!! ✨❤️
#Honestly my wrapped is mostly Ghost and Sleep Token 🤡#Orville peck as well 🤠#thanks for the ask echo!! 🫶#nono answers#ask games
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after tonight I finally get a night off
#and maybe i can start writing that post about the reoccurring motif of burial in Sleep Token#or the tech/artificial vs natural in tmbte#or just write more about the love you want which is still echoing around in my head
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“Who did this to you?” A deep voice echoes, vibrating around the walls of the throne room. On the opulent throne sits the owner of the baritone voice — Ryomen Sukuna. The king of curses, resting his head on his arm as he looks down at you, too scared to look up from your feet.
“I don’t like repeating myself.” He warns, your body hasn’t ceased shaking. Your uniform is tattered, the rips in the fabric revealing deep purple bruises. Uraume was the one that found you, unconscious in the butlers pantry. After waking you up they brought you to the throne room. So there you were, kneeling at the feet of your king.
You arrived to the estate a year ago, your life as a servant was agreeable. Lord Sukuna treated all his servants well. You were loyal, efficient and pleasant to look at, it was only a matter of time before he started to notice you.
At first he requested you be the one to serve him breakfast. Then it became lunch, and suddenly you tended to all his meals. He demanded you for everything, his bathing, dressing. He could do all of these things himself of course, but he prefered your gentle hands. His personal attendant, not even Uraume, had seen the king of curses at his most vulnerable... but you had bared witness to all of him.
“Fine, if you won’t tell me who. Then why?” Ryomen slowly rises from his throne, his looming figure towering over your kneeling body. He lowers himself to your level, one hand reaches down to lift your chin. Firm yet gentle he forces you to look up at him, your eyes meeting his red ones. Your once flawless skin is covered in bruises. His eyes darken.
“They t-think you favor me.” Is all you can manage to get out.
Word spreads around the estate of course. And plus Sukuna didn’t exactly hide his preference for you. You didn’t sleep with the rest of the help, you were given a room connected to his. ‘In case he requested your presence in the night’ but the reality was he slept better knowing you were near. You didn’t eat the servant food, you dined in the great hall. At a separate table he had made for you. All of these things on full display for the others to see, it wasn’t long before the insults started. At first it was the odd ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ being mumbled in passing. Then an accidental shove into the wall, always followed by a curt “sorry”.
But today? It was your birthday. You had only mentioned it to Ryomen in passing one day at breakfast. He never understood the need for such a useless celebration. You went about your duties for the day, when Uraume found you and handed you a small box. And there on display for everyone to see, a beautiful beaded bracelet made from polished cherry wood. A token of appreciation ‘for your hard work’.
A gift from the king of curses.
“What’s so great about you anyway?”
“Lord Sukuna’s bed-warmer gets everything she wants!”
They punched and kicked, throwing you into the pantry. The group of servants you once thought of as your family. Clouded by jealousy, hatred towards you — the lord’s favorite.
Ryomen Sukuna, the epitome of ruthlessness and malevolence, softens his gaze. He looks upon your trembling form with… pity? His moment of weakness is replaced by an unreadable expression.
“You have been relieved of your servant duties. You will stay here in my quarters from here on out.” It’s a demand, leaving no room for objection. Your eyes well up with tears looking up at your king, his other hand wipes them away. He rises, walking towards the door, his back facing you.
“Get up. Uraume will tend to your injuries. Once you are well, we will visit the servant’s quarters. You will point out those who laid their filthy hands on you, and I will kill them.”
part 2 out now!!
#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#ryomen x reader#kbwrites#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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youtube
DYWTYLM - Northcote Theater, Melbourne 04/30/2023
[Source.]
#sleep token#vessels one thru four#music tag#vid#this is making me EMOTIONAL#the way you can hear the absolute daggers in everyone's hearts at “its getting harder to be myself”#the audience echoing “smile back” and ��at me”#Youtube
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)
word count: 3.5k
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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization:
Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died.
Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this?
Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion.
The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room.
You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters.
“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.”
There it was. The truth.
Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield.
“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong.
Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety.
Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear.
You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.
It was a guard.
So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this.
He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls.
“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground.
Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat.
You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned.
You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you.
Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you.
With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in.
“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged.
Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you.
And so they did.
The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades.
He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length.
This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing.
Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . .
But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent.
Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face.
“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.”
He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on.
Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust.
He had to pay for what he did to you.
And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault.
The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway.
The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt?
“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway.
His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start.
And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead.
Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all.
You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely.
Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore.
The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head.
You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved.
“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out.
Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you.
The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you.
Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood.
“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide.
You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin.
Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell.
“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck.
Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again?
“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences.
“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone.
You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation.
“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you.
You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power.
“I see you in my dreams sometimes.”
Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was.
“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night.
“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.”
You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved.
“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?”
Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides.
“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub.
He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs.
You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again.
“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep.
You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would.
You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now.
“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now.
Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly.
“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this.
“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.”
You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd.
“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-”
“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated.
“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would.
“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump.
You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in.
You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin.
One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off.
Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off.
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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:
@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27
#feyd rautha#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#dune part two#dune part 2#dune#austin butler#austin butler x reader#smut#dune smut#feyd rautha smut#feyd rautha harkonnen#dune x reader#dune x you#dune fanfiction#feyd rautha fic#austin butler fic
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@alkalineghoul
Wembley 16.12.23
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TAGS: smut, fwb!ghost, car sex, degradation, name calling, PIV
A/N: I said if I got sleep token tickets I'd write more smutty simon drabbles. This is a bit different than how I usually write him tbh but sometimes you don't need to be worshiped and adored you just need to get fucked in the back seat of a car and be called a slut *shrugs*
Simon Riley was all smoke and fury, wound tight beneath rippling muscle and an aloof demeanor. He was a bastard at best and cruel at his worst. He was an impossible to read man.
When he was gone, somewhere far over seas, you would tell yourself you didn't need him anymore. You had more self respect and deserved someone who wanted all of you, not just a quick, meaningless fuck.
But you were always the first person he called when he was home. Maybe that meant something or maybe it just meant he was a lonely man. Either way, he called and you answered every damn time.
He took what he needed from you with primal, untamed desire, and when it was over, he was gone until the next late night call. And you were left angry and frustrated at yourself, at him.
You hated recalling your pathetic mewls and broken moans. The warmth of his skin pressed against your, slick with sweat, as he fucked you, burying his cock deeper into your needy cunt.
With your legs around his waist, your knees burned against the leather of his backseat with every sharp thrust that seemed to knock the air out of your lungs.
Times like those were when you wished you could steady yourself in his hair, silence your moans on his lips, but he never took his mask off. You called him Simon, but you only ever saw Ghost.
So, your hands were forced to find security in the meat of his bare shoulders as he gave you no choice but to sit and let him bounce you on cock.
You hated his voice, always mocking and dripping with venom that made your cunt flutter and chest ache.
“Desperate slut,” he grunted. His harsh breaths fanned over the shell of your ear. “You always take me so good.”
Simon’s hands squeezeed the flesh of your ass. His nails left their cresent marks on you the same way yours did on his shoulders. It would be the closest thing to declaring your ownership over the other. He dragged your hips closer, forcing you to grind down on him.
The stir of his cock inside you pulled a moan from you. You worked yourself against him, almost rutting, feeling him deep inside you.
“Go on. Show me what you can do.”
He went hands off and you did your best to take over. He'd already given you two orgasms before stretching you around his cock. His fingers did well enough to leave you exhausted.
You rose slow with your knees and allowed gravity to take you back down. The slick noises of your bodies meeting seemed to echo in his car. The windows had fogged hours ago from your combined breaths. You were completely consumed by him all around. Nothing mattered, but him and you.
Your stamina was no match for his and you were slowing your movements when your breath struggled to catch up.
He scoffed. His lids lowered as cold eyes focused on your sluggish movements, the wetness glistening on his cock and your cunt wrapped around his tip. “Fuckin’ pathetic. Tired already?”
“Make me come, Simon,” you begged, clawing down his chest. Your hips came down to a slow grind against his, urging him to take over.
Simon never took kindly to your orders. You assumed he got enough as it was from being a soldier.
“Wanted you to work for it, slut.”
He bucked his hips, filling you to the brim once again, kissing your cervix with the head of his cock. Your head fell back as you moaned and clenched around him.
“But I'll make you come,” he promised with each word after followed by a heavy thrust. “Again and again and again.”
thank you to @/saradika-graphics for the dividers!
#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#cod smut#cod fanfic#ghost smut#ghost x reader#cod x reader#cod x reader smut#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#ghost scenario
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Imagine: Falling Asleep During Game Night with the Inner Circle
The House of Wind was filled with laughter, the kind that echoed off the walls and warmed every corner of the grand dining room. It was game night with the Inner Circle, and everyone was gathered around the long table, plates pushed aside to make room for cards, dice, and various betting tokens. Rhysand and Cassian were loudly debating the rules of some card game Feyre had just learned, while Mor was dramatically telling Amren how she was, once again, going to win it all.
You sat beside Azriel, leaning against his broad shoulder as you watched the chaos unfold. His hand rested protectively on your knee, a gentle reminder of his presence amidst the boisterous crowd. Every so often, his thumb would brush over your skin, sending little sparks of warmth through you—a silent conversation only the two of you shared.
Tonight had been long, filled with laughter and the gentle teasing that came with friends who were more like family. The warmth of the room, the comfort of Azriel’s presence, and the steady hum of chatter began to lull you into a soft haze of drowsiness. You blinked, trying to keep up with the game and the playful banter, but the edges of your vision grew fuzzy.
“Alright, next round—Y/N, you in?” Cassian’s booming voice cut through your thoughts, and you jolted slightly, blinking up at him. You caught a smirk playing at the corners of Azriel’s lips as he watched you try to focus.
You nodded, fighting off the sleep tugging at your eyelids. “I’m... I’m in.”
Azriel leaned down, his voice a soft whisper meant only for you. “You don’t have to stay awake, you know. No one will mind.”
You shook your head, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips. “I’m fine, I want to—” but your words trailed off, and you let out a soft yawn, snuggling closer to his warmth.
Rhysand, watching from across the table, exchanged a knowing look with Feyre. “I think someone’s had enough for the night,” he teased gently, his voice full of amusement.
You rolled your eyes playfully, though you could barely keep them open. “I’m still awake,” you mumbled, but even as you said it, your head lolled onto Azriel’s shoulder.
Azriel chuckled softly, a sound so rare and reserved that it made your heart flutter even in your sleepy state. He shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around you and adjusting so you could rest more comfortably against him. His shadows swirled gently around your form, like a protective blanket, shielding you from the noise and commotion.
“Go to sleep,” Azriel murmured, his lips brushing your temple. “I’ll be here.”
You managed a small nod, your eyes finally closing as you let the comfort of his presence envelop you. You could faintly hear Cassian’s mock protests, something about you being too adorable and stealing all of Azriel’s attention, but it was all a distant hum now.
Azriel’s arm tightened around you slightly, his other hand resting on the table as he continued to play with the others, only now with a slight shift—every move, every decision made with one arm still holding you close. He didn’t miss a beat, keeping his cool demeanor even as his thumb absentmindedly stroked your arm.
“She’s out,” Mor whispered with a fond smile, glancing over at you, your breathing even and peaceful against Azriel’s side.
Azriel simply nodded, a soft, rare smile gracing his lips as he gazed down at you. “She’s had a long day,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a gentle affection that made everyone else around the table exchange knowing glances.
They continued the game, softer now, as if instinctively not wanting to disturb you. Azriel never moved, never faltered, keeping you cradled against him as you slept, a silent sentinel in the midst of the cheerful gathering.
To anyone else, it might have seemed insignificant, but for Azriel, this was everything—having you close, safe, and resting in the warmth of the bond you shared. As the night wore on, Azriel stayed right where he was, his heart content and his gaze occasionally drifting from the game to the peaceful rise and fall of your breaths. He could feel the bond thrumming softly between you, a steady, soothing reminder that you were his, and he was yours.
And in that quiet moment, as the laughter continued around the table and the stars shone brightly outside, Azriel knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
#azriel x female!reader#azriel x reader#azriel x reader fluff#azriel x oc#azriel x you#acotar reader imagine#acotar#imagine fluff
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(Source - by the amazing, talented, and beloved Adamrosssi)
#sleep token#vessel sleep token#iii sleep token#iv sleep token#ii my boy no here (ToT)#espera sleep token#echoes sleep token#the choir sleep token
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I'm thinking about Euclid (song) again, and everyone always makes links to Euclid the Mathematician (Euclid of Alexandria) with his symmetry, but what about Euclid the philosopher (Euclid of Megara)?
#this is a I completely forgot he existed and he came up in philosophy class today and a loud 'SHIT' echoed in my mind because I ->#completely forgot him in my not-so-little analysis essay#going right back to the first paragraphs and I'm gonna have to write him in somehow because he is surprisingly important#gonna be Hell because it'll take me an hour to get him in there without making it look like I definitely didn't forget him but oh well#much to say about him#sleep token#st#Euclid#sleep token analysis#sleep toke euclid#mel's rambles
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ANOTHER ONE!/ref @moonchild-in-blue
Lotus and her Auntie Echos featuring me actually writing in cursive lol
#dad token#sleepy cryptid boys#the duck can draw#sleep token#sleep token band#espera#sleep token espera#the echos#Lotus oc#sleep token fanart
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[Ongoing] Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader
Simon Riley lives like a storm on the edge of breaking. But then there’s you. You pull at him like the soft drip of rain. And in the stillness between you, Ghost begins to realize that you are the calm he never knew he needed—an unexpected refuge in the tempest that has always defined him.
➼ Chapter 1. Where Silence Blooms (part 1) (part 2) ➼ Chapter 2. Veins Of Longing (part 1) (part 2) ➼ Chapter 3. To Be Known (part 1) (part 2)
[Finished] Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader
Two souls, bound by a childhood of silent suffering, are pulled back to the city they both fled. After fifteen years apart, Simon Riley and the girl next door find each other again, drawn together by the weight of shared scars. In the quiet spaces between them, they seek the comfort they could never find alone, mending their broken hearts in the echoes of a past they can't forget.
➼ Part 1: Roses Are Red ➼ Part 2: When We Were ➼ Part 3: Lingering Ghosts ➼ Drabble 1: Simon's Pov ➼ Part 4: Across The Years ➼ Drabble 2: Simon's Pov ➼ Part 5: Promise? Promise. ➼ Part 6: Between Waiting Hearts ➼ Part 7: All The Swearing ➼ Part 8: A Place Without Partings
➼ When The Storm Found You - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ Soft Confessions - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ Rain Down On Me - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ Quiet Roads - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ The Art of Staying - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ Wasting Away - Outlaw!Simon x Reader ➼ What's Between Fridays (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) - Butcher!Simon x Reader ➼ Where Ghosts Linger - Obsessed!Simon x Reader ➼ Masochist - Tattoo Artist!Simon x Reader ➼ Cigarettes and Siberia - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ A Touch Left Behind - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ Late Night Talks with Simon Riley - Simon Riley x Reader ➼ Riley’s Rites - Simon Riley x Sleep Token
#call of duty#cod#simon riley#masterlist#simon ghost riley#cod ghost#john price#captain john price#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#simon riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#betweenstorms#cod fanfic#cod fanfiction#call of duty x reader#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#captain price#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare
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Perfectly Misaligned
Vi x reader
Summary: Vi has always been protective over you ever since you moved in next door to a less than savory part of town. Nevertheless though she still tries to play things cool though and not cross any boundaries. Whenever she hears the way your friend really talks to you though from the other side of the door, all bets are off.
Contains: very very au! still kind of new to the arcane/LoL universe so this will not be following canon or anything at all (obvs because it’s fanfic but still), sweet and soft vi, protective vi, depictions and discussions of abuse (physical and emotional), injuries, hurt x comfort trope, fluff fluff and more fluff!! <3
basically a vi version of my first jb one-shot but I still included some differences! once again my first time writing for her so please be gentle! i hope you like it 🥹🩵
(PSA: i’m writing this from experience! if you are in an abusive situation like this please take care of yourself 💙)
“Jesus, have you ever managed to recall a single thing right?!” My best friend seethed, someone who should’ve been my best friend at least as she slung an already chipped dirty plate across the dingy kitchen.
I should’ve kicked her out at the first sign of violence. I shouldn’t have even invited her over to think of it. Somewhere in my stupid brain I thought that talking about it in person would help us work things out more. Maybe because in some way I thought she was more biting over text messages so it wouldn’t hurt as much in person either. Every moment of rationalization got stupider by the second.
“That never happened! I never said any of that! You’re doing just what you always do! Pointing the finger and making me out to be the villian! You really think you’re the innocent one in all of this?!” I yelped as soon as she slammed her hand down on the emotional support water bottle I was currently clutching onto until it hit the floor with a loud thunk.
The sound of a knock on the door made me flinch again, the tears burning my eyes until they started to ache. “Hey, y/n? It’s getting kind of loud over there, are you okay?” The voice followed from the other side of the door. Violet, probably the best neighbor I could’ve asked for in one of the trashiest apartments. It was definitely a rough part of town we lived in, the only thing we could afford really. She always checked in on me though.
I hated how pathetic I felt hugging myself, eyes wide as I peered up at my ‘friend’ as if I was fucking asking for permission. Permission she clearly wasn’t giving me. “Didn’t know you two were so close. Is this someone else you’re hiding me from? Someone else you’re probably painting the worst picture of me to?”
“Y/n, I’m coming in.” Vi echoed, fuck I had almost forgotten I’d given her a spare key for whenever she needed it or just wanted company.
The moment the door swung open though I could feel the weight of my ‘friend’s push shoving me towards the ground. The sting of broken glass biting in my skin as I yelped in pain, bits of blood now streaking across the ground. And Vi had seen every second of it.
“Did you just put your fucking hands on her?” She practically growled as she made her way into the apartment, thick combat boots kicking aside broken glass to make a path.
“Oh c’mon, do I really look like I would hurt somebody? She clearly fell-”
“Yeah, you do. Because that’s all I’ve been hearing you do since the moment I came home and thank god I got here whenever I did-”
“Vi, please don’t-” I squeaked out with yet another wince of pain as I tried to push myself up to a sitting position. I knew how she was. The way she stayed bandaged up and covered in bruises didn’t hide exactly how she made her money. But I had never wanted to see that side of her myself. I didn’t think I could.
The words were lost to me though, lifting my hand as if to latch onto her own only to see a piece of glass protruding from the muscle below my thumb. Vi only took one wide look down at me before shooting a sea of daggers towards the culprit’s way. “I’ll give you a headstart before I break every last finger that you laid on her? How about that?”
“Vi-” I tried to protest again, but I should’ve known better than to believe she’d actually try and stand up to someone like Vi. Towering over both of us with a plethora of tattoos in black ink and enough muscles to put a bodybuilder to shame, she’d be intimidating to anybody. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had stumbled out of her apartment the day I moved in with a hopeful grin on her face as she offered to help me carry things upstairs I probably would’ve been intimidated by her too. But she had charmed me from day one.
“Damn it, doll, what’d she do to you?” She whispered, kneeling amongst the glass without a single care of it scraping her up too. “Is it safe to pull that out?” She wondered, bandaged and bruised fingers gently taking my wrist into her hand to examine the damage on my palm.
“I think so… it isn’t too deep.” I spoke, sucking in another yelp of pain as I yanked the glass from my hand and shakily tossed the now red piece aside. “It’s not that bad- she- she just pushed me.”
“No, y/n-” It was the first time she directed that glare towards me and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me wince at first. Only seconds later though I watched her icy expression soften with a shake of her head. “You can’t excuse it this time, doll.”
I didn’t say anything, even knowing she was right, she stared down at my scraped and cut knees while the tears dripped down my cheeks until they landed on the open wounds and made them sting. Knowing I would probably find some way, some reason to excuse what had just happened. I always did.
“C’mon, baby, let’s go over to my place and get you patched up.” She sighed, almost with a hint of disappointment before sliding an arm around my shoulders and another underneath my knees. I sucked in a breath of pain as I was separated from the pool of glass, microcuts now hitting the air as the pieces that had embedded themselves into my skin clinked to the floor.
My eyes felt heavy, my head already lolling to the side the moment I felt her sweeping me up with ease. My head ached from the amount of arguing, almost worse than the stings of the open wounds. Vi shoved open the door to her apartment next door, still the same chaotic mess it usually was whenever she invited me over. She never showed it, but sometimes I think she felt lonely. She was just the kind of person you could tell even by first glance that she had been through a lot. I never asked though. It never seemed appropriate to get too personal. She was a private person, and I respected that. Or tried to.
“This might sting a little.” She whispered once we made it to her tiny bathroom, leaving me propped up on the sink as she rummaged around for her first aid supplies. I tried to mask my expression of pain the moment she touched the antiseptic to my bloodied knees but ultimately failed as a whimper tumbled from my lips.
“I’m sorry.” I spoke through a sharp breath, “That y-you have to do this. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in our shit.” I lifted a shaky hand to try and wipe at my eyes, tears that seemed to have miraculously remained at bay until now.
“No, y/n, I got involved on my accord. Because it seemed like somebody needed to.” She shook her head, and I never knew that hands that looked so rough could be as gentle as hers were. Pulling them away from the wounds only to hold my chin in between her thumb and pointer finger. “Has she ever put her hands on you before, doll?”
I shook my head almost immediately, watching her expression harden, eyes icy enough to freeze. “Are you lying?” She asked again, a quiver setting into my bottom lip as she seemed to see through it all. Her anger was unmistakable, the way she pulled her hands away from me only to clench them into fists. Shoulders set like she was about to swing at something, anything. And still somehow I wasn’t afraid of her.
“Vi, Vi please… please don’t go after her right now. Please just- just stay with me. For a little bit, please.” I reached out to slide my hand around her bulging bicep just before she could put her fist through the wall.
I felt her swing around to face me, an arm sliding around my shoulder, fingers knotting through my hair as she held me to her broad shoulder. “You’re more important.” She finally spoke with another long breath that felt like she was loosening every muscle in her body. “She’ll get what’s coming to her though.”
“Promise you’ll be careful.” I begged into the fabric of her tank top.
“I can’t ever promise that, but I’ll always do my best.” The feeling of her fingers running through my hair was almost enough to pull the tears from my eyes again. Gentle touches I wasn’t familiar with. Gentle words I wasn’t used to hearing I almost couldn’t believe them. The feeling of safe muscular arms holding me to her warm chest as I clung onto her like I hadn’t ever done before. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I heard her softly shushing me from above, her chin propping up on top of my head. “Shhh, I’ve got you now. I’ve got you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”
She was careful whenever she inched away, gently drawing my body from hers. Calloused hands drawing down my bare arms as if checking for anymore tiny cuts the glass might have left. “Let me finish patching you up, and then I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.”
She wrapped my knees and hand in her bandages and placed little bandaids on every small wound. Whenever we made it back to my place though she didn’t hesitate to sweep up every last bit of the broken glass too before finally letting herself sit down.
“You didn’t have to clean everything, you know? I could’ve taken care of it.” I spoke into my lap, face drawn down as if in shame.
“I think you’ve cleaned up someone’s mess a few too many times.” Vi sighed before stretching an open arm out as if beckoning me in. “C’mere doll.” I was already moving into her arms, taking in her musky scent with just a tinge of iron that she always had whenever she returned from work. “I’m sorry I didn’t wash up first, I just heard the yelling and I came running and-”
“It’s okay.” I said with a shake of my head just before nuzzling into her chest. Her body could’ve swallowed me whole if she wanted it to, I felt like nothing more than a ragdoll curled up into her arms. And I normally would’ve hated it. But with Vi I felt like I could finally be small and sensitive and fragile and I’d be safe. It was just a matter of not having to be on guard 24/7.
Vi cleared her throat from above me, her fingers brushed underneath my chin as if nudging me to look at her. Blue eyes that I felt like were gonna send me into cardiac arrest, and with my hand bundled up into a ball against her chest I swore I could’ve felt her own heart kicking into gear. “Y/n, you know I really care about you, right?”
“After tonight, yeah, I- I think I do.” My cheeks felt like they were on fire, and all I wanted was to hide my face into her shirt again. But with the grip she had on my chin I knew she wouldn’t let me. “I- I care about you a lot too.”
“I know you do, I just feel like a lot of people don’t return the favor, you know? So I just… I want you to know that. I’ve got you. Regardless.” A long breath was shuddered from my lungs at her warm words. Feeling her cracked but soft lips drifting downwards to brush against my forehead just before she finally released my chin.
It felt like they held a lot of weight to them. Almost more than what they let on, than she wanted to let on. At least for now. They were enough though. Enough to get my eyes to tear up pathetically again as I burrowed my face back into her chest with a small sniffle.
“You’re my best friend, Vi.” I muttered just loud enough for her to hear.
She delicately slid her fingers around my wrist, softly stroking my pulse point until my teary eyes fluttered shut, “You’re mine too, darling.”
#Spotify#fanfic#vi x reader#vi x oc#vi x y/n#vi fluff#vi x you#vi from arcane#vi arcane#vi fanfic#arcane league of lesbians#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane fanfic#fanfiction#hurt/comfort#lesbian#lesbianism
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