#it will be. extremely bad in the inner circle for a few days.

[potatoesandsunshine]

the thing about max is... if you put a problem in front of him he will solve it. this means that a lot of work goes into intercepting problems before they can get in front of him. corporal vale got away with a lot in the hinterlands because everything was so chaotic but baron desjardins in emprise du lion got a very polite, very detailed note from the ambassador about the importance of the herald's time after she found out he told him about the three high dragons in the area

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 4

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Rhysand calls for a meeting so you and the rest of the Inner Circle can decide what to do next. Azriel stands by your side every step of the way.

Warnings: Angst (not that bad)

Word Count: 6680

Notes: This chapter was actually trying to fight me. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3 ○ Part 5

The days were blurring together the longer you stayed in this room. You've long since memorized the golden stripes and swirls beautifully decorating the navy walls, counted the teardrop-like glittering stones hanging from the small chandelier. You've gone through every closet and box in this room as well. Unsurprisingly, the room was almost empty, but you weren't looking through it to find any information anyway, you'd really done it out of boredom, and admittedly some curiosity.

You knew you couldn't complain about your treatment in this house, you'd never heard of a prisoner being treated to home cooked meals and expensive clothes. The House had even brought you books and journals in case you wanted to read or write, and Azriel brought you little treats from the bakeries in town - things you suspect he already knew you liked. He also kept you company every chance he got, even if it meant simply sitting together in silence. You didn't go a day without seeing him. But it was hard to focus on romance novels, chocolate cupcakes or even the captivating hazel eyed male when your entire reality was shattering around you.

The day after you met the High Lord and Lady, Azriel had found you snooping through the few clothes left behind by Feyre, and that same night he dropped off what he called some of your old belongings - some clothes and jewelry so you didn't have to borrow anything else from the High Lady. Everything was neatly folded and carefully arranged, it seems Azriel was extremely meticulous about how to store his late wife's belongings. He told you he's barely allowed himself to touch them in fear of ruining anything.

The clothes had since lost your scent, even if put away in a closed box it would be impossible for it to linger after a century. Still, you knew these were your things, somehow you could feel it deep inside you. You hadn't told Azriel about this, scared of getting his hopes up.

There was nothing personal in the box, Azriel was probably reluctant in letting you see them in case it overwhelmed you and triggered any more painful reactions, but there was enough for you to get a sense of who you were before.

It was clear she lived a happier and much more fulfilled life than yours. The clothes were all beautiful, if a little outdated. They came in all sorts of colors and fabrics, but even if you still liked them now, you know you'd never buy something like this for yourself.

Working at the guild, you had to prioritize functionality. You didn't have many personal belongings, you traveled a lot for missions and had to keep hidden, never staying in the same place for longer than a couple of months at a time. Your clothes reflected this, you prefered to wear pants or even your armor since you never knew when you'd be called for a mission or attacked.

You always had to be ready to drop everything at any moment so there was no use getting attached to anything or anyone. Even your favorite dagger was simply the model you've found works best for you, and you can get it anytime from different blacksmiths. The small hoops currently in your ears are the only jewelry you actually own and it's more of a way to keep the holes open for when you have to do undercover missions in which you might need to dress up.

There was no time or place for getting pretty clothes that made you feel good or buying a nice pair of earrings for the sake of it. Even less for making friends. You were living an empty life, something you always had a hard time coming to terms with, but that seems impossible to accept now that you know what you could have had, what you used to have and was taken from you.

Not being able to even trust your own memories affected you more than you'd ever admit, knowing things you considered unquestionable facts before that night were all made up. You've had to rely on what Azriel tells you and your own intuition to try and fill in the gaps. Your body seemed to be giving you clues, nudging you in the right directions but it only left you beyond frustrated that you could feel like all the answers were on the tip of your tongue but not being able to put your finger on it.

From what you've gathered, the night you disappeared from the Night Court corresponds with the mission in which you almost died, meaning someone in the guild - your handler, if your suspicions are correct - must have found you and brought you in. It's safe to say that, aside from a few lies and omissions here and there, your memories since that night can be trusted. But everything before that was all a lie, over a century of your life was nothing more than a made up story.

A burning feeling behind your eyelids has you forcefully shaking out your thoughts. You can't let yourself get consumed before you even find out what exactly happened, before you can get your revenge. And you refuse to cry in this room where anyone, especially Azriel, could walk in at any moment and see you in such a state. If you had to pick one helpful thing the guild taught you, it was how to handle your emotions.

You knew the High Lord was making good on his promise, knew that Azriel was working to help you as well. He'd only ever left your side to look into any information you could give him about the guild, though your knowledge was limited. You weren't a high ranking member and they were more than careful. You didn't know anything about the other members, as much as they didn't know anything about you.

Still, you weren't used to waiting around while everyone else did all the work and it took them over a week to schedule a new meeting with you, where you hopefully will learn more about this whole situation and what they intend to do with you. It feels like they're keeping you in the dark, something you knew you'd also do in their place, but that has left you feeling nothing but frustrated and worthless.

That meeting was happening in less than an hour and anticipation was eating away at you. Azriel promised he was going to take you to the office, letting you use him as a safety line as you've done so often these days.

Aside from the welcome information and decisions you hope would be talked through, you were also just excited to leave this room for a few hours at least. Only being able to feel the wind through an open window was getting old, and the city below this house felt like it was almost calling to you at this point, but you were too scared of seeming too interested since you didn't know if they'd find it suspicious. Just because the High Lord left the room on a friendlier note doesn't mean he'll trust you completely after what you've done.

You were technically allowed out of the room, free to walk around the House, with Azriel's supervision of course, but after your first attempt you decided it wasn't worth the trouble.

It had been mostly a miscalculation on your part. You were so consumed with your problems and with finding some sort of distraction that you almost forgot Azriel wasn't the only one you knew before, didn't stop to think what reaction they all would have to you.

Azriel asked you to join him for breakfast downstairs as he usually did, trying to get you to move around and talk with the other residents of the House. You accepted, tired of being in the stuffy room and curious to meet the General and his mate, who you've sometimes felt around the House and heard so much about from Azriel.

The atmosphere turned painfully awkward as soon as you entered the dining room with the shadowsinger at your side, making the other residents of the house look up to meet your eyes, surprised you had left the room. It wasn't long before Cassian stormed out, barely making an excuse on his way out after getting a good look at you, his mate following right behind him.

You ended up eating breakfast alone with Azriel, the same way you would have if you'd stayed in your room like you always did instead. Except now you couldn't take the general's haunted expression out of your mind. It truly had looked like he'd seen a ghost. Maybe he did.

Azriel apologized to you on his behalf, even though it wasn't his or Cassian's fault, and you're almost positive there was some sort of fight between them, though you hope not too severe. You'd hate for Azriel to get into arguments with his family over you. He didn't invite you downstairs again after that, simply joining you in your room whenever he could. The reminder of how caring the shadowsinger has been with you almost brings a smile to your lips.

“I'll make you fall for me again.”

Those words haven't left your mind since that night. You've never had anyone look at you with so much love in their eyes, and tell you something so bold with such conviction.

You're not sure you deserve it, and you're terrified you'll never remember him because you know this version of you can't ever be compared to the one in his memories. Even if you end up regaining your memories, it's impossible for things to truly go back to how they were. It's been too long and you've changed too much. The both of you know this.

You haven't actually talked about his or your feelings since that night, but it's clear that he still loves you, well he loves the female he once knew anyway, you're not so sure you're even that similar to her aside from your appearance. It doesn't feel fair to let him dote on you, knowing he's in love with a version of you that will never come back, knowing that, even with the fluttering of your heart, your feelings for him don't come close to his.

It makes you feel like you're taking advantage of him, how he's so dedicated to taking care of you and to restoring your memories, even trying to find the people who hurt you, while to you he's a stranger. Even if an extremely handsome stranger whose company you enjoy a lot, who makes you smile and even laugh despite the precarious circumstances you've found yourself in, who makes you believe you can get through this.

You can't deny you have a reaction to him either, every soft touch feels like lightning running through your veins, and every whisper of your name has goosebumps spreading all over your skin. Your body obviously still remembers how it feels to love him and to be loved by him in return, but the butterflies in your stomach don't even come close to the depth of his feelings for you. It's glaringly obvious that Azriel would do anything for you, even going as far as letting you stab him the very first night you met and brushing it off when you tried to apologize during this week.

Truthfully, falling for Azriel sounds like the easiest thing in the world, but you don't think you'd ever feel like you deserve him.

The shadows in the room start shifting ever so slightly as if reading your thoughts - something Azriel has assured you they can't do - a sign that their singer is approaching.

You put down the book you never even started and hop down from the window sill you had been sitting on for most of the afternoon, waiting for him to knock softly at the door like he always did, letting you prepare for his arrival or deny his company if you so wished. Anticipation was buzzing at your skin the longer you waited so you opened the door for him as soon as his knuckles met the dark wood, catching him off guard with his hand raised.

You can't help but smile at his wide eyes. Surprising the feared Spymaster of the Night Court has to be a hard feat to accomplish and the fact that you just did it so effortlessly makes you revel in his expression for a moment. He offers you a small smile of his own but you can immediately tell something is holding him back.

He hasn't really given you any information about their research or the guild, simply letting you know that they were working as hard as they could on it. You knew the High Lord still had his reservations about your presence in his court so it only made sense for them to keep their cards close to their chest until they knew more about the situation. You suppose he also wanted to see if any of the leads you gave Azriel on the guild actually turned out to be helpful, a last test to see if you were being truthful.

So you wouldn't be surprised that the Inner Circle had a meeting among themselves before bringing you in, one it seems like Azriel just came from, but his expression is making your anticipation steadily turn into nerves.

“Are you ready?”

Even with the lump that has lodged itself in your throat, you nod and try to give him a pleasant smile. You've been waiting for answers and you're finally going to get them, even if it feels like your heart is threatening to give out.

You quickly turn back into the room to slip on your shoes, before looping your arm around the one he offers, ever the gentlemale. He guides you through the painting covered hallways, most of which you haven't walked through before.

As you approach the room your nerves get the best of you. There are a lot more people in the office than you thought there'd be, you can hear their mismatched heartbeats from here, feel their suffocating presences. One you can distinctively recognize is the General's, it reminds you of his reaction in the dining room, how it seemed to hurt him just looking at you.

You didn't think the entire Inner Circle would be in attendance, figured that it would only be the ancient one, the High Lord and Lady aside from you and Azriel. You'll likely have to reveal more about yourself than you'd be comfortable with in any other situation, including things you're not proud of, things you know they'll judge you for, they'll judge the female they once knew for.

Azriel noticed your body tensing, your steps getting slower and the apprehension rolling off you in waves as your thoughts soured. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, meeting your unfocused eyes.

Seeing the worried look on his face makes you take a deeper breath, willing your mind to focus on what's important right now and let your fears stay locked inside you. Thinking of it as another mission the guild sent you on, you've put your life on the line numerous times, you can get through a simple meeting.

You feel a familiar mask of indifference fall onto your face, the mask of a killer the guild made sure you wore almost every day of your life, but before you can rid your mind of emotion, Azriel grabs onto your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and bringing it up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss on your skin, one that sends chills down your spine, though it's the look in his eyes that makes you stop.

You're not alone. For the first time in your life, at least in the life you remember, you're not alone. He's going to be next to you for every step of the way. You don't need to resort to assassin tactics. The blank mask was something you didn't have a choice but to use, to protect yourself from the things you'd seen, from the things you feel. But here you're allowed to delve into your emotions, to stay true to them.

Azriel gives you a small smile and lowers your hand away from his lips, proud of whatever determination showed on your face. He lets go of you, making you feel the absence of his warmth immediately, fingers twitching as if trying to reach out to his comfort on their own.

As soon as you walk into the room all eyes turn to you. You had been right to assume everyone was here. You let your eyes wander around the room briefly, noting the familiar and new faces, before settling back on Rhysand's, the reminder of the excruciating pain you've felt the last time you saw him an obvious weight on your mind.

You'd seen them all before except for the blonde sitting on the sofa by the window, her brown eyes were wide, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. You know that was Morrigan, the High Lord's cousin, and from what Azriel has told you, one of your once closest friends. Apparently she'd tried to come talk to you but it so happened to be on the day after you went down for breakfast and you denied it without a second thought when Azriel brough the option up. You wonder if that had been too harsh but you weren't sure you could handle a repeat of the Cassian situation.

Feyre and Morrigan are the only ones who attempt to throw a greeting smile your way but you can't bring yourself to respond, acutely aware of the tension in the air, eyes never straying from the High Lord's. Choosing to focus on the elephant in the room.

“I trust your stay has been enjoyable,” Rhysand muses as he points to the chair across from his desk, urging you to sit as if this were a simple business meeting. As ridiculous as the idea sounds, it does something to loosen your muscles and the snort that escapes Cassian lifts some of the tension.

“Yes, the House has been making sure of it,” you sit on the chair across from his desk, not daring to look away from him and the High Lady. He releases a simple hum at the answer, but you're too anxious for small talk. “Have you found a way to get my memories back?”

“In a way,” he offers, leaving you with more questions.

Thankfully, Amren fills up the silence in his place. “The spell suppressing your memories is the work of witches. Daemati can enter anyone's mind and make them forget certain memories but if someone had simply rewritten your memories then Rhys would have been able to fix them.”

“Witches?” The thought was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Witches use tools to strengthen their powers, to access magic they aren't privy to,” she continues, “It seems someone used a witch's tool to feign daemati powers and rewrite your memories, effectively warding them as well.”

“That's why you had such a strong reaction when I entered your mind.”

You were positive this had to be the work of a daemati. It had never crossed your mind that there could be something else at play.

“You can't undo the spell,” you conclude for them.

Witches have a completely different approach to magic than faeries. While your kind was gifted their magic by the Mother, witches have to resort to the kind of tools Amren mentioned. The resulting magic isn't organic and as such it comes with rules and drawbacks you don't experience as fae.

“We'll need to find the person responsible for it. They're the only one who can tell us exactly how to undo it,” Feyre says.

You bite your lip, your mind reeling with the information. You only have one suspect and the thought of not only finding him but also making him talk sounds beyond ridiculous. He also hasn't shown any hint that he could use witch magic. As far as you know he's as much high fae as you are, but you can never be too certain when it comes to one the best assassins in the world.

“Azriel says you can only identify one member of the guild,” the High Lord continues, barely giving you any time to process.

You nod. “I had direct contact with a few other assassins when I was called for backup but never knew their names or even what some of them look like without disguises.”

“Our only option is finding your handler, but Azriel hasn't been able to find any tracks even with the information you've given him,” Feyre stands closer to the desk now, her hand leaning on the dark wood.

“I'm not surprised. Norris is one of the most prominent members of the guild, I'm not sure how old he is exactly but I suspect he's been working there for close to a millenia.”

“Azriel is extremely good at his job,” Rhysand tilts his head slightly, as if offended for his Spymaster.

“I know.” From the briefings he's given you, he has spies all over the world aside from his shadows, who can listen and see things fae could never begin to imagine. Even with your hints, he's come closer to the guild in a week than entire countries have in decades, perhaps even centuries. “But we've been trained to kill and hide from people like him, like you. And Norris has been doing that successfully for a very long time.”

“We…” He taps his nails on the table, the sound echoing across the room. “So you're an assassin then,” the distaste clear on the High Lord's face.

You hadn't said the words out loud but everyone had probably guessed it the moment you walked back into their lives. The guild has made a name for themselves, and as much as some of your work consisted of spying or retrieving objects, most people came to the guild for mercenary jobs.

“Yes,” you confirm, forcing yourself to keep up the eye contact.

“An interesting career choice,” he muses, as if you had the pleasure of just choosing to become this monster.

The several pairs of eyes watching you intently were making you feel defensive, your temper rising up with it. It's easy to judge someone looking in from the outside. You'd been an assassin or training to become one ever since you could remember, which in reality wasn't your whole life like you thought before. Still, whether it was because you'd been taken in by the guild as a child or had your memories rewritten, you were thrown into it against your will and had since been stuck with no chance of an escape. Everyone has done things they're not proud of and you know fae in such important positions as these and as old as they are can definitely relate to this sentiment.

You weren't proud of it, far from it, but you didn't have a choice. And it's not your fault the female they knew before wouldn't do these things. It's not your fault that innocence and chance at being better she had were ripped away from you.

“Not everyone has the luxury of getting a court handed to them,” the venom drips out of your tongue, every word meant as a weapon.

You know this is a low blow, being aware of the circumstances in which Rhysand became High Lord, how he lost his whole family in one night. But if he wants cruelty, the assassin he keeps judging, you can certainly give it to them. Your bravado lessens when you feel the sharp intake of breaths around the room, most notably from the Illyrian by your side, where he still stands despite how tense his posture has become.

Rhysand's wings tighten against his body and his eyes narrow, finally letting go of the faux relaxed look he's presented you with. He takes a moment to answer you, likely leveling his temper or receiving soothing words from his mate.

“There was a time you wouldn't even dare to hurt an innocent.” This statement lacks the same bite as before, it gives way to disappointment, and it feels like a bucket of ice poured over molting lava. It cuts deeper than any amount of judgment he could have presented you with.

You straighten yourself in the chair, trying to not let it show how much this whole conversation is affecting you. “Well,” you lick your lip, now realizing how dry your mouth felt, “The only thing left from before is my body.”

His violet gaze finally becomes too much for you to bear, allowing yourself the respite of looking down at your hands. There are too many emotions swirling in his alluring eyes, even more felt around the room, the tension has become so thick you could barely breathe, couldn't even risk a look at Azriel in fear of what you'd find written on his face, terrified that the same disappointment lingered there as well.

“It's not,” the change in tone has you looking back up at him, meeting his gaze once more to find understanding reflected on it. And I can only imagine how you've been surviving through it all.

His echoing words make you pause, not being able to look away from him. It's only when wetness gathers in your eyes that you look back down, praying the room of perceptive fae don't notice how close you are to tears. You don't even remember the last time you cried, the last time someone extended you the kindness Rhysand just did, even after all the judgment.

Shadows start crawling up your legs, tentatively moving towards you as if asking permission to comfort you. You bite back a smile, keeping your tears at bay as you wonder if they moved of their own accord or if Azriel sent them to you. You relax your body, allowing them to twist and turn over your legs, mildly surprised that you can actually feel a ghost of a touch. You didn't think you could feel shadows.

You risk a glance at the shadowsinger in question, almost regretting it as you see the fondness reflected in his beautiful eyes as he watches his own shadows move across your skin. This must have been a regular occurrence before. You look away as soon as your gazes meet, not being able to bear the intensity in them in this room full of onlookers.

Unfortunately, your escape brings you back to facing the High Lord and Lady, who seem more than amused at your interaction with Azriel. The change in atmosphere from just a few moments ago almost gives you whiplash.

“You haven't told me what you plan on doing about the guild,” you try to keep your tone leveled, but looking at their reactions you're failing miserably.

“Finding your handler seems to be our best bet,” the smile on Feyre's face only falters a bit, the tension from before has almost dissipated. “Since he's the one who sent you here he might know who hired the guild and their motives for wanting the book.”

“You said he was the one who introduced you into the guild.” You nod at Rhysand. “It's possible he's the one responsible for your… accident.”

“I think so too,” you agreed, your hand moving up to touch the scar on your neck, “I've always been told this scar was the result of a failed mission, and that Norris had been the one to find me and take me to a healer.”

“We found the attackers not long after your death,” the general finally speaks up, cringing softly at the choice of word. His mate was quick to narrow her eyes at him, as if reprimanding him for mentioning it.

“He might not have actually cut my throat,” you shrug, trying not to linger in unpleasant thoughts. “He likely saw me after the attack and decided I'd make a good addition to the guild if I survived. I'm basically a ghost, that's perfect for an agent. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done similar things before.”

“Either way, we need to find him.”

“Even if we do, I'm not sure he'll actually tell you anything.” Norris was one of the most respected members of the guild. His abilities far surpassed yours, he'd been the one to teach you most things after all. You've never been able to even sneak up on him so finding and capturing him alive already seemed hard enough, but making him cooperate and answer any of your questions was next to impossible. The Mother only knows how many fae have tried it and failed.

“He will,” Azriel stated. When you look into his eyes you can only see pure fury and determination written in them, leaving no space for any doubts. He stares into your eyes before adding, promising, “l'll make sure of it.”

Some of that confidence rubs off on you it seems, because your hesitation starts evaporating the longer you stare into his eyes. You've always been on your own, and as such you've only ever considered how you'd fare against your handler without backup. Between the famed Shadowsinger, the strongest High Lord in history, the Made Sisters, and everyone else in this room, your chances were exponentially higher. Escaping the guild doesn't feel like a pipe dream anymore.

“How do you want to find him?”

The High Lord rewards your determination with a smirk. “The only way to find someone like him is by making him search for us instead.”

“You want to use me as bait,”

“You can refuse,” Azriel assured. This explains his sour mood. You didn't think he'd agreed with this solution with the way he's been treating you so carefully, almost as if you're made of glass. You can't exactly fault him for it either, but the truth is you can't refuse. You don't know if you could ever find Norris with traditional tactics, or if the guild wouldn't send more assassins to the city, if they hadn't already.

“And keep living like this? Hiding without even knowing who I am?”

He searches your eyes, fear and vulnerability swimming in the hazel, but nods all the same. He told you he's dreamed of getting you back for a century, and thought it was something that would never come true, so it makes sense that he'd be hesitant on letting you put yourself in such a risky position. You know he understands why you need this though.

The meeting runs for a while longer, and by the time Rhysand was calling it a day the sun was already setting on the horizon, making way for the night to take over in all its glory, one that could only be fully appreciated in the Night Court.

As much as everyone seems to be warming up to you, letting go of the conflicted feelings towards having you back in these circumstances, you were extremely overwhelmed by the end. Talking to someone who knows you so intimately even though you don't have any recollection of it is a confusing experience. You could almost hear your mind screaming at you, begging for some peace and quiet.

The contrast between the Inner Circle and Azriel becomes clear in your mind. Your relationships were very different before but it's interesting to see that even when you don't have your memories, you feel so much calmer with him. That nagging feeling of being faced with something you've lost keeps rising up when they speak to you, but it doesn't come anywhere close to the myriad of emotions Azriel evokes simply by looking at you. And even if those emotions are more intense, you have a much bigger tolerance for them, as if your body would gladly accept any turmoil as long as you stayed in his company.

Just as you were about to leave the room, Rhysand invites you to join them for dinner. Everyone turns to you with expectant eyes before the words fully leave his mouth. They clearly planned it out together. This habit they have of speaking through each other's minds is one it might take a while getting used to.

You bite your lip, as you think of what to say. Cassian and Morrigan look particularly keen on the idea, it makes you feel a little relieved that the general isn't looking at you like a nightmare came true anymore, but you really don't think you can handle any more questions today, or to have them reminisce about your former relationships. You're not used to spending time with a lot of people in general, you'd go months without any sort of fae contact sometimes. You just want to go somewhere quiet, and you can only think of one person whose company would allow you to relax.

Making up your mind, you decline the invitation politely, trying to ignore the disappointment in their eyes as they bid you goodnight. This still feels like a huge improvement from where you stood with them just at the beginning of the meeting, that they'd want to keep you company when it felt like they were avoiding you this whole week. You might have gained some of their trust, and, to your immense shock, you trust them as well. It feels like a breath of fresh air after a century of not even trusting your shadow.

Maybe it's that feeling, or the immediate quiet that settles over you as soon as you walk into the empty hallway, maybe even the fact that you finally got some answers and even a plan, a chance at leaving the guild, something you never even dared to dream about, but it has you feeling a little indulgent. Your steps are noticeably lighter, and all the tension from before is now only a faint ache in your muscles.

“Azriel?” You look up at him with a smile, feeling it widen when he looks at you in answer. “Since I'm out of the room, can we go somewhere to watch the stars?”

The smile that takes over his face is blinding, it feels like it could rival the moon. It's fascinating how his beauty can still catch you off guard like this, even if you've been spending most of your time with him for an entire week.

“Of course,” he moves closer to you and takes your hand, pulling you into him, his eyes never straying from yours. It takes you longer than it should have to realize he was covering you both in shadows, too lost in his eyes to pay attention to your surroundings, how they've turned to black. He told you before that's how he winnows, though it can't be called that since he moves through shadows instead.

The light almost blinds you as his shadows disperse, giving way to a view you can't believe is real. The sky wasn't completely dark yet, stuck in the brief moments of twilight where you could still see the last rays of the sun illuminating the dark blue sky. And yet the stars were already twinkling in the sky, surrounding the full moon.

You can't help but gasp, forgetting about Azriel and moving to the edge of the roof, admiring the unforgettable view. Your eyes don't stray from it as you lean against the railing, long enough that the sun completely sets, and the streets become illuminated by faelights.

You had thought there was some sort of celebration when you first came here, but have since learned that every night is enjoyed to its fullest in the city of dreamers.

As some of your awe settles, you turn to look at Azriel as he too admires the city. His shadows had left him uncovered, choosing to scatter around what you now recognize as a training ground. You almost regret staring up at the sky for so long when you could have been reveling in his beauty this whole time.

His tan skin was glowing with the pale moonlight, eyes as bright as the stars when he looks down at you. You move closer to him almost unconsciously, as if you've been bewitched.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you sound breathless even to your ears. “The view is a lot more beautiful from up here.” Your bedroom window could never do this justice. If you looked up, it almost felt like you were walking on air, among the stars.

He turns to you fully, ignoring the captivating sight in favor of watching you. His face relaxes further as he takes you in, the smile on his lips growing and the air around you changing. He raises his scarred palm up to cup your face, whispering softly, “It can't ever compare to you.”

“That's cheesy,” you stutter, clearly taken aback by the sudden flirtatious tone.

He grins down at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, rubbing his thumb over the increasingly warmer skin of your cheek. “You're blushing.”

Azriel has been open with his feelings for you all week, making it clear that they haven't changed over the years, even with your absence from his life, but he has never been this brazen. None of the interactions you've had can be considered anything else than platonic, and even with sweet compliments and bashful admissions, he has never looked at you like this, like he truly believed just one second of looking at you was worth more than this unbelievable view.

“You know,” you start hesitantly, “We haven't actually tried everything.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to catch up to your train of thought. You can feel when he does because he tenses against you, and would have let go of your face if you hadn't placed your hand around his wrist, keeping him there.

“I think I've read it in a story before,” you lick your lips, feeling like lava is pumping through your veins when his eyes follow the movement, “Sometimes a kiss can be stronger than any magic spell.”

He leans closer to you slowly, looking into your eyes to search for any sign of discomfort. You can't be entirely sure what he finds in them, you can't feel much else but desire in this moment, but it has him clearing the rest of the way, both of your eyes closing as his lips finally touch yours softly.

A sigh escapes him when you press into him harder, needing to find out what he tastes like, what he feels like. His other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, holding you against him. You can feel him losing his restraint bit by bit, hands moving from your face to hold your neck, your waist, grip getting tighter with every stroke of his tongue against yours, a century of longing and raw passion melting into the kiss. Your own arms find their way around his neck, pulling him down, finally feeling the softness of his hair around your fingers. His chest is pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel his heart beating.

When you finally pull away from each other, you're both breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You wonder how many times he's dreamed of this moment, of being able to taste you again after so long.

“Any memories resurfacing?” His voice is rough, deeper than you've ever heard it. It almost makes you hold back a moan.

“No,” you lick your lips, reveling in his taste, “but we can give it another try.”

His lips find yours as soon as the last words leave your mouth, more than happy to deliver. You might chastise yourself for giving in to temptation tomorrow, but in this moment nothing else matters. Not the guild, not your lost memories, not your mistakes. Right now there's only him, you and the stars as your witnesses.

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[qwimblenorrisstan]

Catch of the Eye | Azriel x Hippy!Reader

Summary: After you moved into Velaris, your bright demeanor and clothing seemed to demand Azriel’s attention, as well as the rumors of the Princess of Autumn’s disappearance.

Word Count: ~ 800

Warnings: None!

A/N: This request had me cracking up while writing it bc the idea of a hippy bamboozling az into silence is so funny to me, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Ever since Azriel had met you, since you’d moved from Autumn Court, you always managed to utterly flabbergast him in ways that shouldn’t be possible for the stoic shadowsinger.

It had all started when he’d noticed the bright, almost obnoxious clothing you always had. Some weren’t bad, like the jeans you would wear with bright floral patterns accenting them, or the flowery shirts or skirts you’d wear.

Your fashion sense was the complete opposite of his, and since you had moved to Velaris under his suggestion, he got to see your wacky outfits every day.

Sandals were a common choice, not to mention warm-toned clothes, cardigans, and knitted tops. The earrings you wore were nothing like he’d seen before, not even trying to be elegant or beautiful, just giving an extra pop of color and flare to your outfit.

It fascinated him.

He’d always seen proper noble women trying to be beautiful or elegant or alluring, but you weren’t that at all. You were just…yourself. You didn’t care about what others thought, you were a rule unto your own law. You were just so out there, sticking out like a sore thumb, but in a good way.

Your bright clothes and personality became a comforting sight for him amongst the dark color theme of Night Court, with most residents opting for black.

And your opinions?

Completely outrageous. But also funny.

Like when you rambled on about how Fae should need a license to winnow, to ensure that they weren’t endangering themselves or others if their skills weren’t good enough. Or how any winged Fae should also need licenses, for the same reason.

He will never forget the time that you told Rhysand to his face on one of your first few times meeting his family that if Velaris was already peaceful and perfect, why not expand that principle to Hewn City, too?

And when he’d tried to explain that the people of Hewn City were too stubborn and hateful for that, you’d just called his reasoning “stupid” and an “excuse” because he just wanted to live in his little paradise city and not deal with the problems of the Court.

That had frazzled Rhys.

In fact, you frazzled almost everyone in the Inner Circle. Except Cassian. He seemed to find you extremely entertaining. You’d nearly given some of them a heart attack, especially since your fiery red hair and hazel eyes oddly resembled the Princess of Autumn, who hadn’t made a public appearance in months, and some people were getting suspicious.

Once getting over the initial hurdle of them adjusting to you, Feyre invited you to her art studio, and when Azriel got there (he’d volunteered to help with some of the paints since he didn’t have any missions that week) he saw you, an absolute mess of paint, helping all the children. You were surprisingly good at it, knowing just what colors to mix for them, giving them what they needed and when, and generally working well with Feyre even if all your paintings were bright and usually neon, and hurt his eyes a bit if he looked too long.

“You’re good with them.”

He spoke to you as he walked down the street, you alongside him as you finally left her painting studio.

“I’ve handled kids before, they’re pretty fun usually.”

He raised a brow at that.

“Did you…babysit, or something?”

He asked, the mental image of you watching and caring for a child for an extended period of time not exactly a great one.

“No, I helped raise my little brother. He was always a more mellow kid, but he had a tongue on him, that was for sure. I oughta visit Luci sometime soon.”

He listened. You’d never mentioned brothers before, or any family at all, really. It didn’t help his suspicions.

“‘Luci’ is an odd name for a boy.”

He commented dryly, and you, clearly not catching onto his sarcasm, as you rarely did, only laughed.

“Boys can be named whatever, but his full name’s Lucien.”

He stopped walking at that, and you continued, oblivious to it until he jogged to catch up.

“You’re Lucien’s sister? As in Lucien Vanserra?”

He asked in a quiet but surprised tone. You only nodded, grinning at him in that lazy, relaxed manner you always had.

“Our secret!”

You declared, before prancing off to go look at the bright fabrics of your favorite salesmen in Velaris. You’d already befriended more than half of the people there, and they all seemed to like you.

Cauldron help anyone who befriended you, and definitely help the shadowsinger stuck as your mate for eternity.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x Nurse!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is in himself his own warning. Obsession, stalking, slight self-harm, cussing, manipulation, allusions to murder - getting rid of a body, allusions to panic attacks, allusions to anxiety attacks, allusions to mental breakdown, obsessed!Coriolanus

After ‘taking care of’ his once lover, Lucy Gray, and dumping the guns in the lake- to sink to the bottom and never be seen again, Coriolanus returned to base. He looked like shit whenever he entered the clinic, seeking treatment for the snakebite to his inner forearm. A snakebite that he's convinced himself is poisonous; is slowly killing him.

You just happen to be on duty that day, so the Matron of Base D-12’s clinic (who's in charge of the Nursing Core and Medic Unit), sent you to take care of Private Coriolanus Snow. She even went on to tell you how it was such an honor to tend to him since he was the son of the legendary Capitol war hero General Crassus Snow: the fallen Commander of 12.

You honestly didn't give a fuck who's son he was. In fact, your father Colonel Javani Halvir served underneath General Crassus Snow until his untimely death at the hands of rebels in the woods outside of 12. Like who cares who his daddy is. Your Colonel dad made you sign up for the nursing core after you graduated as punishment for being ranked 25th in the Academy and not being able to be a mentor in this year's shit show of the Hunger Games.

You're glad that you didn't have to mentor one of those poor kids. Mentoring seemed to be bad for Capitolite kids’ health since a handful died.

So…

Yea…

You and the other kids that weren't in the top 24 came out safe, but try telling your dad that.

Mhm…

Your dad even went on and on and on about how his old comrade's son was the top of your class, so why couldn't you have made one of the other 23 spots. Blah, blah, blah…

You hung around different circles then Coriolanus Snow did. In fact, you hung around Odysseus Odair, Livinius ‘Vinny’ Cardew, and Hilarious Heavensbee’s cousin Hector ‘Heccie’ (who had to repeat his senior year at the Academy 4 times, but at least he graduated this year with passing grades at the bottom of the class) and a couple of girls that weren't in the A-list clicky ass bitch squad.

That disappointed your father, the Colonel, as well.

So, yeah, that's why you're a nurse in training aka a nurse’s aide currently sliding open the curtain to Private Snow's bed in the large one room infirmary that could hold at least 2 dozen men- easily.

“So, according to the sign in form you've been snake bit?” You ask Coriolanus, reading his impeccable handwriting off of the form that's on the clipboard the Matron gave you.

“Yes,” Coriolanus frantically nodded. “I think it's poisonous; that I'm dying.”

Oh God, the son of the Almighty General Crassus Snow’s a dramatic baby boy. Oh, wouldn't your dad just crack up laughing if he knew that.

Obviously, if his snake bite was poisonous he'd be dead in the woods right now. If it was a coral snake he'd be shit out of luck since they're one of the most potent venomous snakes in Panem. And if it was a rattler his arm would be swollen 3 times its size and it'd be puffy and oozy, he'd probably be drooling and bleeding from the mouth and wheezing too.

If it was a water moccasin…well…he'd be utterly fucked. His arm would swell and become discolored, he’d have immediate and extreme pain, and he'd have rapid; difficulty breathing, and decreased blood pressure. Most likely would be dead before he made it a few yards away from whatever lake he found while hiking in the woods. And if it was a copperhead, well he would've gone into shock right away; his lymph nodes would've swelled up along with the arm he was bitten on. His arm would also be numb, so would his mouth, tongue, scalp, and feet- all from the poison.

Hey, that's what you read in that District 12 first aide book you were forced to read for the Nursing Core. According to that book Private Snow would be dead before he got out of the woods cause you need to get those poisonous snake bites treated right away with anti-venon or you'll croak. And you're not even sure if the infirmary even has that stuff.

Anywho…

Idiot was bitten by a damn garter snake. A harmless slithering thing, but he thinks he's going to die.

Placing the clipboard down on Coriolanus' bedside table, you go over to the counter and grab some gloves. “I'm going to take a look at your arm, okay?” You tell him while putting on the gloves.

Instead of saying something normal like ‘okay’ or ‘yes’ or even ‘thank you’, Coriolanus Snow asks, “You look familiar. Do I know you, Nurse?...”, as you round his bed and reach for his bitten forearm.

“I’m a Nurse's Aide since I still have a few weeks left of training.” you tell Private Snow while you hold his forearm in your hands and inspect the bite. “My name's Y/N Halvir, we went to the Academy together.” You tell him, noticing that he doesn't have fang marks but deep, jagged teeth marks in a circular shape on the inside of his forearm.

“Oh, that's why you look familiar.” The platinum blonde smiles a bit too wide, too toothily, at you. Goddamn, his pearly whites are on full display with his manic smile and it's a bit unsettling.

“I shouldn't look that familiar to you, I was ranked 25th and hung out with a different crowd then you did Mr. Golden Boy.” You dryly tell him, while going over to the cabinet behind his bed to grab some antiseptic wipes, ointment, and bandages. “Oh, and you're not going to die. The snake bite’s not poisonous.”

“Are you sure it's not poisonous? I felt like I was going to die. My heart's been racing, I'm sweaty, I even saw things.” Private Snow objects, so desperate to be right about having been bit by a poisonous reptile, as you place all of your supplies on his bedside table.

“Trust me Private Snow-” You begin only for him to interrupt you with, “Please, darling, call me Coryo.”, as you're tearing open the alcohol wipe pack.

Coriolanus thinks you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen. Much prettier than that lying, sniveling, singing whore that was going to rat him out to the mayor to save her own ass; who he shot in the woods. Oh, how could he have overlooked your beauty for so many years? You attended the Academy with him; had classes with him and he never noticed you until now.

Now!

Now that you're both in this hellhole of a backwater bumfuck district.

“Anyways, you weren't poisoned and I believe you had a panic attack due to stress and high adrenaline.” You honestly tell Coriolanus, grabbing his forearm in your hand and cleaning it with the antiseptic wipe.

“Are you sure, darling?” Coriolanus asks, watching you discard the wipe and grab the tube of ointment.

“Yes, Private Snow, I'm sure.” You respond, opening up the tube. Squeezing some ointment on your finger and rubbing it into his wound, you explained, “Venomous snakes have bites that leave two fang marks while non venomous snakes, like harmless garter snakes, leave ragged teeth marks in a circular shape when they bite.” Grabbing the bandage roll, you unravel a piece long enough to wrap around his forearm. “You have circular teeth marks for your snake bite, but I'm afraid they're deep and will leave a nasty scar.”

“Of course, it'll leave a nasty scar.” Private Snow bitterly sighs to himself as you bandage up his wound.

When you're done you tell him, “You're all patched up and ready to go, Private Snow.”, while throwing away the trash from the antiseptic wipes.

You didn't wait for his response, you just took the clipboard and left his curtained off area in order to file the report on his treatment.

You seem to have had an effect on Private Snow. The platinum blonde found himself obsessing over you. Yes, he was obsessing and not daydreaming when it came to you.

He was so desperate to see you that he began getting ‘hurt’ as an excuse to go to the infirmary and make small talk with you. Oh, you lost track of the twisted ankles and sprained wrists Private Snow claimed to have. But every time it turned out to be nothing.

He was just faking it to see you. To have your touch on his skin. Even if you were just feeling his wrist or ankle for an injury, Coriolanus still felt that your skin touching his was intimate.

And talk about Coriolanus faking injuries just to see you…

“Is Nurse Y/N in? I need her to look at my finger; it's cut really bad.” Coriolanus asked the clerk at the check in desk. He’s hoping you're on duty today, otherwise he ripped his finger open on a knife during KP duty for nothing.

“I'll get you to a bed and then I'll send her to tend to your finger.” The clerk at the check in desk told Private Snow before bringing him to the beds in the treatment center.

It only took a few minutes for you to be briefed on Snow's problem and sent back to treat him.

“So, Private Snow-” You began and you pulled back the curtain around Coriolanus' bed, only for him to interrupt you with, “I passed my officer exams and ship out soon for training, so my paperwork should say Officer Snow or Petty Officer Snow.”

What? He's leaving this shithole for training? “Why aren't you being trained here?” You ask, scanning thru his clipboard to find his rank. Low and behold he's now marked as Elite Officer Snow. “Never mind, don't answer that. You're marked down as Elite Officer Snow on your form.”

“Oh, yes, did I forget to mention that I passed the Elite Officer's Exam?” Your accident prone patient cheekily asked as you set your clipboard down on his bedside table.

“I'm an army brat; my father's a Colonel, so if you're trying to impress me with your bragging about your new Elite Officer's ranking and soon to be departure then save your breath- it's not working.” You tell Coriolanus while grabbing some medical grade gloves from a nearby cabinet and putting them on.

Coriolanus quirks a brow. “Your father's a military man?”

“Yep.” You pop your tongue. You pick up his hand and start to examine his cut finger. “Enough about me, let's get a look at your cut finger to see if it needs stitches or not.”

The cut doesn't seem to be too deep. In fact, it looks more like a surface wound. A simple knick.

“Your finger just needs cleaning and bandaged, Private Snow. Lucky for you, stitches aren't needed.” You tell your patient before going to the cabinet to grab the supplies you need to tend to his cut finger.

“Please, call me Coryo.” He puts, watching you head over to him with antiseptic wipes and a bandage.

“What can I say, Nurse Halvir, I’m a very clumsy soldier.” The platinum blonde peacekeeper shrugged with a lopsided smirk painting his lips. “But, since you're calling me Coryo now it's only fair that I call you Y/N.” He says as you open an antiseptic wipe and start cleaning his finger with it.

“I guess I can call you that, considering you're in here every other day.” You relant, placing the items in your hand on Coryo's bedside table.

"Of course you'd rather call me Y/N then Nurse Halvir." You shake your head while bandaging up his finger.

Coriolanus was transfixed by your name. He adored how it sounds. So beautiful, so sophisticated, so fitting of a Capitolite girl. It'll sound perfect with the Snow surname as well. Yes, Y/N Snow has a ring to it.

“It suits you.” Coryo compliments with a beaming smile.

A smile that sends butterflies soaring in your tummy.

Too bad he's heading out in a few days for 2, otherwise- well, no use in going there.

The following day Coryo showed up with a bouquet of beautiful flowers bound by a lace ribbon. You knew that the florists cost a fortune in 12, so you didn't take his gift lightly. In fact, you gasp and take them from his outstretched hand while telling him, “Coryo, this must've cost you a large chunk of your pay. I-I don't know what to say.”

“Well, usually a thank you is enough, darling.” Coryo quips, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smirk.

Looking between the platinum peacekeeper and the bouquet of mixed flowers in your hand, you smile. “Thank you, Coryo.” Sniffing the fragrance of the flowers, you announce, “They're beautiful and smell lovely.”

“They're nothing compared to the roses my Grandma’am grows in her rooftop garden. I'd like to give you one once we're both back in the Capitol.”

“I don't think that'll be for a long while, Coryo.” You tell him, cradling your bouquet of flowers.

“The Matron told me that you just got off duty, perhaps I could escort you back to your bunk?” Coryo asks with impeccable manners and a charming smile.

“Oh, I'm not at the barracks. I live with my brother in an apartment in the officer's housing unit.” You inform him while leading the way out of the infirmary.

“Your brother's an officer?” Coryo asks, keeping in stride with your steps.

“Yep.” You pop your tongue.

“So, the military’s a family affair for the Halvirs then?” The platinum peacekeeper asked as the two of you continued to walk along the path that would eventually lead to the area of officer apartments.

“My brother's the one that wanted to be a peacekeeper like our father; I was tossed into the nursing core because I ranked 25th in our Academy class and my father was ashamed that I couldn't be a mentor.” You honestly tell the man by your side. You probably shouldn't, but something about him has you opening up. Something you just can't put your finger on.

“How did you rank 25th? You seem very intelligent to me.”

“I don't know and I really don't care, to be honest with you.”

A couple of days after walking you home Coriolanus is set to depart for 2. But he can't leave you. So, with his duffle slung over his shoulder, he tracks down your older brother. It wasn't hard, in fact he was directed to your brother's office right away.

“Officer Halvir, I want to talk to you about your sister, Y/N.” Coriolanus announced as soon as he walked into your brother's office.

“What about her, Snow?” Rein asks, sitting up straighter behind his desk. Don't ask him how he knows, but he's positive that whatever Coriolanus has to talk to him about concerning you’s going to end up with him pulling some strings. He just has a gut feeling that this talk isn't going to be simple.

No, not with the look of infatuation plastered on the platinum blonde's face.

But what your brother thinks is a look of infatuation on Coriolanus' face is actually much darker than that. In fact, the young man didn't have a simple crush on you, but was obsessed with you. Yes, Coriolanus has a deep, soul consuming obsession with you and in his delusional mind you're his girl. His sweet Capitolite girl that he must possess and protect.

Coriolanus stands up straighter as he bluntly tells your older brother, “I want to take her with me. She deserves more than this backwater district. She's too innocent for the likes of this shithole and you know it, Officer Halvir.”

Your brother's face is neutral, but his head is spinning. He agrees with the young man standing before him about you being too innocent, too sweet for life in 12. Some of the things he's seen and had to turn a blind eye to in the coal mining district makes him cringe. He can't imagine what some of those images will do to your disposition.

But your brother knew something that Coriolanus didn't. He was told by Commander Hoff, since the man knew that your father and General Snow were best friends back in the day, that Coriolanus was being sent back to the Capitol as a special request by Dr. Gaul, the Head of the War department herself. So, Rein knows that if Coriolanus takes you with him that he'll be taking you back to the Capitol.

Back home to safety.

“My sister's off today, but if you can convince her to go with you then I'll pull some strings with Hoff.” Your brother tells Coriolanus. Rein only wants what's best for you and in his opinion being in District 12 isn't what's best.

“Thank you, Officer Halvir.”. Coriolanus salutes your brother before taking off to get you.

You're sleeping in whenever a loud banging on your apartment door wakes you up. You groan and roll out of bed, only to slip on your slippers and put on your robe before dragging your groggy ass to the door. You hope that you're not being called in; having your day off revoked.

When you answer the door you're met with the sight of Coryo in his dress uniform, “Come to say goodbye?” You gather from the duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“No.” He shakes his cap covered head. “I've come to take you with me.”

“What the hell? I can't just go with you.” Was the reaction you had to his answer. One that you thought was crazy.

“I talked to your brother; he agreed to pull some strings for us.”

Of course Rein told Coriolanus that. Your brother didn't want you in the Nursing Core let alone in 12. It put a damper on his lifestyle. With you living with him on base he couldn't spend all of his free time with that girl of his from the Seam. He also had to cut back on his drinking and how much he snuck off base to get plastered at the Hobb, the black market/bar his girl slings drinks at.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “I’m sorry, but I can't leave.”

“Darling, you'll have a much better life if you come with me. We'll be stationed at The Nut and I'm sure the med bay there'll be more than happy to have you on staff.” Coriolanus tells you, his baritone dripping with finesse and delicate craftiness. Bringing his hand up to cup your face, he asks, “Wouldn't you rather come with me and make your father proud that you've been promoted to a nicer district then being stuck here in this backwater shithole to rot and die- to wither up and grow old in?”

“Coriolanus-” You begin to protest only for him to press an unexpected kiss to your lips. A kiss that was hungry and passionate. His lips were eager as they glided over yours. And you, well, your body instantly responded to his kiss. Your lips move in sync with his, a tiny moan escaping your mouth as your hands fist his uniform jacket as an anchor.

You're breathless as he pulls away from the kiss. You've never been kissed like that. In fact, it has your head spinning.

“Please, my sweet girl, come with me.” Coriolanus begs between placing open mouth kisses along your jaw. He stops kissing you, only to press his forehead against yours. “You're my everything, Y/N. I've lost so much in my life, but I can't lose you. Not when I just found you.” His icy eyes looked so vulnerable, like a puppy dog's.

Those words play at your heartstrings. If only you knew that Coriolanus chose them carefully just for that reason; to manipulate you into saying yes. And the look in his eyes, oh that really gutted you too. Another ploy of the platinum blonde's; one you weren't aware of. The boy was quite the actor when it suits him and what he wants.

“Okay. I'll go with you.” You find yourself telling him before you can think better of it.

And in what feels like a whirlwind, Coriolanus is shoving your things into your travel bag while you're getting dressed in your formal Nursing Core uniform. And then he's dragging you down to the station (well, you're literally sprinting so you won't miss the train) to meet Commander Hoff for the send off.

But Commander Hoff tells the two of you that plans have changed that instead of going to 2 you're going home, to the Capitol. Coryo's being happy hearing that, but you're not sure if you're happy about returning to the Capitol. Your father wanted you to serve your country in the Nursing Core in the districts, so returning to the Capitol would surely upset him.

Coriolanus didn't even ask you how you felt about the news. He just kissed you and shoved you onto the train. If only you knew that his sweet manipulations just ball and chained you to him for the rest of your life. Your career as a nurse would never be; you'd be the socialite wife of the man that would become the most dark, cruel, tyrannical leader that the country's ever known.

Too bad he had to be your patient the day he got snake bit in the woods, huh?

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[sinsolstice]

★ 彡 SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. ✧ MIGUEL O'HARA [ 2 ]

series ✮ the second day of the week always seem to put you in a bad mood. but miguel has a way to make you forget about your day.

tags ✮  modern + roommates au. situationship with miguel and unspoken mutual pining. divider creds: cafekitsune.

content warning ✮ explicit content, sexual intercourse, dom/sub, handjobs, thigh riding, cowgirl, unprotected sex. 18+.

wc ✮ 2,756

Tuesday has never been your favourite day.

When you return home, you feel your body ache and a glooming weight hovering above your head. Something just irks you today and all you want to do is retreat to your room until the whole day is over. At least, there are only a few hours left until Tuesday ends. Another seven hours left, to be precise. Even the thought of it still dampens your mood and you wish that time would speed up so you can get over the Tuesday blues.

The moment you arrive home, you’re greeted with brief quietness, before hearing someone going through the cupboards in the kitchen. Although you acknowledge Miguel's home first, you don’t walk past to greet him. Instead, you go straight to the second floor and into your room. Shutting the door behind you, you strip off your work clothes and hop into the shower. The warm water calms your skin and loosens your muscles. Yet, you feel dissatisfied even when you come out clean, smelling fresh and changed into comfortable baggy loungewear.

You dive into the comfort of your bed, tangling yourself under the duvet that makes your muscles curl comfortably. Something vibrates under your pillow and when your hand moves under to reach for your phone — pulling it out to your sight — it lights up a received message from Miguel. He tells you that he’s planning to run some errands and asks if you would like anything. 

Your reply is polite but a little unenthusiastic. It wasn’t long after texting Miguel back that you heard a knock on your door. The barrier opens and your roommate peaks his head in by the doorway. Your eyes immediately meet Miguel’s crimson eyes. “Long day?” He asks.

You sigh and nod, pressing your lips together. “Extremely. Today is just… I don’t know, not my day.”

“Lo siento, bonita (I’m sorry, beautiful),” Miguel says. He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. “I had a feeling you weren’t yourself when you got back.”

“S’okay.” You shrug. “Just a few more hours until Tuesday is over.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence between the two of you. You twiddle your thumbs, unsure of what to do when you feel the bed shifted under its weight when Miguel takes it forward to sit on the bed in front of you. His thumb and index fingers reach out for your chin and gently angle your face up to meet his gaze. “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“I’ll be okay,” you shoot him a soft smile. “Maybe I’ll sleep early tonight to let the time pass.”

Miguel goes quiet when you say this. He gazes away to his right — seemingly in thought – before his eyes meet yours again. “There could be something we can do to pass the time. But only if you want to.” 

This has caught your attention. “What are you thinking of?” 

“Today may have not been a nice day for you, but we could change that.” Miguel begins. “The continuation of our challenge from yesterday.” 

Your chest tightens a little as you hitch a breath, recalling the deal made and yesterday’s events. It heats your cheeks and goosebumps run down your back when your mind replays the way your body aches in pleasure when he thrusts deep into you. A sudden jolt of pulse travels down to your cunt as you think about the way he rubbed your clit yesterday with fervent abandon from the challenge. 

You’re now reminded that today is the second day of the week’s challenge. 

“It might help you forget about what’s upsetting you today.” Miguel continues, his tone lowers and sounds a little husky. He pauses for a moment as he gently circles on your inner wrist in a mindless pattern. “I want you to take the reins this time to make you feel empowered. Have you done whatever you want to me.” 

In that moment, your chest tightens even more with the way your heart races. This is the first time you’ve been offered something like this, and throughout your situationship with him, Miguel has always been the one to lead in the sexual activities. So his proposal has taken you by surprise and yet you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the new prospect specially made for you.  

“Really?” Your voice holds an innocence to it. “You’ll let me do whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want, nena,” Miguel smirks. “I’m yours to use as your playground.” 

You gaze away as you think, still feeling the rush of excitement and arousal. “There’s always something that I’ve been wanting to try.” You begin, pause for a dramatic effect, and then look at him with feign innocence and curiosity. “Thigh fucking?” 

Miguel raises a brow at you and a wide grin appears on his face. “You plan on torturing me with those sweet, soft thighs of yours, bonita?” 

You giggle softly, “Not torture you, per se. More like… want to know what it feels like.” 

“Mm,” Miguel hums. His hand reaches out to brush away some unkempt strands of hair out of your view. “If that’s what you want to do, then let’s do it.” 

Nodding, the two of you began to undress each other’s pants, the clothes all tossed aside in the corner of your bedroom. You quickly settled on the and laid your back on the headboard, with Miguel joining to be in front of you. He kneels on the bed and spreads your legs open, moving closer between them. He takes hold of his large cock in his hand and places his throbbing member on your bikini area, giving it playful taps that have you squirming a little and giggling. 

You slowly bring your legs together, the inner of your thighs brushing against his member softly between the thigh gaps. Then with your legs clasped together, you raise your legs and then down slowly. Soon, the motion repeats as your inner thighs drag his cock up and down in strokes. You swear you could feel his member throb between your muscles. 

“Oh, mierda, that’s it,” Miguel murmurs with his eyes closed. “Your thighs are so soft and warm.” 

“You think so?” You ask as you proceed to move your thighs up and down, looking at him under his gaze innocently. 

Miguel smirks and lets out a breathy chortle once you’re confident stroking him with your thighs. Bring your upper legs up and down like you’re doing a seated knee crunch exercise on his cock with your upper leg muscles. With every stroke, Miguel’s member quivers and he groans. His chest is rising up and down slowly, eyes closed as his lips parted slightly whenever he breathes heavily. 

“Fuck, your thighs.” A low growl emits out of Miguel. His brows creased as he pants. “So soft and beautiful and mierda (fuck)—” He let out a breathy, almost strangled gasp as his eyes gazed down at his cock and your thighs stroked him. “Tan perfecta, hermosa.” 

The praises coming out of his mouth feeds your confidence and it certainly shows it on the smile of your face. You continue to tease him and perhaps like Miguel said earlier — torture him a little. Seeing the way the foreskin of his cock would roll up and down to the movements of your thighs in between them — hiding between the muscles and revealing itself like it was a peek-a-boo game. The head of his cock is already glistened with precum. “Something else.” He rasps. “Please.” 

“Oh? You’re telling me what to do, now?” You ask with a raised brow, your tone teasing. “Though you told me that you’re my playground to use.” 

“You’re right,” Miguel rasps with a sheepish smirk. Still using his thighs to stroke his cock, you can see the way his brows furrowed together as Miguel breathes rhythmically in an attempt for some sort of control and restraint. “Are you going to keep playing with me like this?” 

You glance up at him. The movement of your thighs going up and down slows down until it comes to a stop. His cock throbs, being buried in between the soft muscles of your upper legs. “You’re right, I should do something about it.” You declare. 

Carefully, you open up your legs, seeing the way it glistened with arousal ─ a mixture of his and yours painting your skin. You already miss the way his member feels between your thighs but you have a different idea. Leaning yourself forward close to Miguel, your right hand reaches for his cock and soon, your hand replaces your thighs to stroke him. A gentle grip on his dick as you move up and down on him. 

You hear Miguel groaning your name, sounding even more hoarse than before. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He says brusquely, though it sounds gentle. “Tú, pequeña zorra (you little vixen).” 

“Whatever do you mean?” You giggle softly. 

“Want to have your pussy around my cock.” Miguel murmurs. His head is tilted back with eyes closed, deeply groaning and his dick pulsates even more in your hand. 

The growing smile on your face doesn’t falter as you take full control of Miguel’s pleasure, watching the way he’s beginning to lose composure. You feel more confident and empowered in this situation because you’ve always been a bit of a pillow princess and letting Miguel have his way with you. But this time, the role is reversed. 

“How do you want to have my pussy?” You ask, still stroking his cock with your hand. “Should I ride you?”

“Yes, yes por favour (please),” Miguel says, his voice sounding breathy. He groans again and the muscles of his biceps tighten as his body shudders in pleasure. His member twitches in your palm. “Hermosa, nena, por favor (beautiful, baby, please).” 

You chuckle softly, seeing how Miguel has succumbed to a whimpering mess. A different sight but a beautiful one. You’ve always known Miguel to be confident, intimidating, and somewhat snarky. But in the moment and right in front of you, he is neither of those. He is yours to toy with and as he said before—he’s your playground to be used for the night. 

“What did I tell you about telling me what to do?” You lightly scold Miguel. And yet, your hand slowly comes to a stop and lets him go. Getting up onto your knees, you gently nudge Miguel to lean back a little. When he does so, you carefully crawl onto him, settling yourself on his lap. His hands instantly go to hold onto your waist. The two of you stare at each other, eyes gazing over each other’s expressions and facial features. 

“You ready?” Your voice is soft when you ask, hand reaching down to hold his cock and aligning it upwards between your legs. 

“Yes,” Miguel whispers. His eyes darken in lust, and the grip on your hips is strong as if he’s trying to imprint his fingers into your skin. Almost holding back your breath, you mentally prepare to embrace yourself, remembering to take it nice and slow. 

Steady, you lower yourself down onto Miguel, the head of his cock breaches in slowly until the two of you are groaning and moaning. Your walls warmly welcome the intrusion, wrapping around his cock in a vice grip till you could feel the tip of its head brushing inside your womb. “Fuck, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You rest your forehead on Miguel’s when the shudder of pleasure overwhelms you. Breathing softly as you hold onto him, mind clouded in lust and sheepishness. When a thought inadvertently enters your mind, the notion is forgotten when you feel his hands guiding you close to him by the waist. 

“You’re doing so well,” Miguel says softly, his lips almost brushing yours. 

His words made your heart leap and you exhaled a soft sigh that you didn't realise was holding back. “I want you to get comfortable.” 

“I already am.” The corner of Miguel’s mouth curves up in a grin. His hands cup your rear cheeks and he lifts you easily off the bed to switch positions. Miguel sits at the edge of the bed and his gaze focuses on you, his hands going onto your hips as you proudly sit on his lap. 

You begin to roll your hips as you sit on his lap, with his cock settled buried inside you; its girth hits your vaginal walls, his pelvis rubbing your clit and you swear you could feel his cockhead hitting your cervix. The muscles of Miguel’s thighs flex a little underneath your weight and he heaves heavily when your cunt grips onto his dick whenever you roll yourself onto him. “That’s it,” he groans. “Grinding on my cock so well.” 

With your hands placed behind his muscular thighs as you steady yourself in this whole new position, you angle your hips and begin to bounce on him. It starts gently at first for you to adjust to the feeling and idea of taking charge. But then, the pace picks up moments later as you begin to feel comfortable. The wanton swiftness of Miguel’s cock hitting your G-spot relentlessly. You’re unsure who’s controlling the movements — whether it's your rhythm or his hand on your hips guiding you to lift up and then down onto his length. But it doesn’t matter who did what because being on top of Miguel O’Hara feels like the sweetest and most well-deserved victory for yourself. 

The bedroom is filled with the sounds of wet skin slapping with mixed arousal, your breathy gasp and his throaty groans. It doesn’t take long until you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, making you drive your hips up and down on Miguel faster. You hear him shudder a breath, his hands grab your buttcheeks. “Oh fuck, hermosa—” 

A throaty groan from Miguel and a strangled cry from you fill in the bedroom. Your cunt tightens around his cock and it throbs just in time for Miguel to spill his cum inside of you. Your clit pulsates from the pleasure, the two of you gasping and groaning from the euphoric sensation of cumming at the same time. 

“Díos,” Miguel murmurs breathlessly. His lips brush on the valley of your chest as he catches his breath. Your eyes are closed, regaining your breath as well. “That was… wow,” Miguel adds. He chuckles softly. “Didn’t know you have a wild side of you.” 

“I…” Your voice trails. A sheepish smile curves up the corners of your lips. “Was that too much?” 

Miguel laughs and then shakes his hand. His hands squeeze your hips. “If anything, it was the best.” 

Your arms circle his neck as you press yourself chest to chest on him. The climax settles down, leaving the room quiet. Neither of you pull away despite how overly warm and a little sweaty the two of you are, and you prefer the way you’re both not separating from each other yet. 

"Hey," Miguel's soft tone catches your attention. "I have been meaning to ask. Why is Tuesday your least favourite day? Is it a personal thing?"

His question surprises you because you didn’t think he or anyone in your life would notice that the second day of the week is your least favourite day. You stay silent, figuring out how to put your explanation in words. “In all my life, Tuesday seems to be the day where I’m out of luck and rough days seem to happen that would hinder my mood. A bad grade at school when I was younger. Or I found out that one of the co-workers I hate at work made a complaint about me for something insignificant. Even when… my mum passed away a few years ago, it was on a Tuesday too.”

Things fall peacefully quiet in your bedroom as the two of you sit together on the sheets. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Miguel says apologetically. The pad of his thumb brushes on your inner wrist and you don't pull your hand away. Instead, let his warmth comfort you. 

“Well, I hope that I’ve made your Tuesday a little better for you,” Miguel adds softly. He still caresses where your pulse and arteries are pumping under your skin.

Your eyes gaze at him and a smile appears on your face. You couldn’t help but agree because he did make your day a little brighter than the other Tuesdays you experienced in the past.

keep track of more updates with #𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 (miguel o'hara).

all of my links.

[unluckiestmember]

yk now im curious on what would happen if Miguel saw his “daughter” in [Name]. Like she would just pop in with miles ( they’ve been friends since the first movie basically) and she is like a carbon copy of the daughter from the world he was like im when taking the place of himself. I would personally see it as a head cannon type of thing but ur choice! (bonus if platonic yandere) and if u do write this tysm for taking time out of ur day to do so❤️❤️

Coming right up!

Miguel O'Hara X "Daughter"! Reader

Characters: Miguel O'Hara, Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhaker, Gwen Stacy, Peter B. Parker and Jessica Drew

Tags: Found family trope?, yandere!Miguel, Miguel being Miguel, overprotective father figure, problematic friend group, intervention, fluff and hurt/comfort.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: Sorry this is not my best, you got me working on four hours of sleep and immediately after an eight hour shift. But I still hope you enjoy this! XD

Let’s get one thing straight; Whether he admits it or not, Miguel loved you since the first time he laid eyes on you.

You reminded him so much of Gabriella in the way you looked, the way you acted, etc.

Literally had to do a double take a few times before he realized you weren’t her.

But even then, that didn’t make him hate you.

Actually, it fueled him to get closer to you and create a bond with you.

Call it the father in him if you must.

He indulges in familial activities like sight seeing and even eating some sweet treats with you.

Spider-Society swears you are the only person to make this big guy crack a smile.

And for that, you are considered a wizard.

Jokes aside, Miguel cared about you so much as if you were his own daughter.

But maybe he cared about you too much?

When you arrived with Miles and he chose to challenge his canon event, Miguel wasted no time giving him a hard time.

Especially knowing that you two were thick as thieves.

If he was sprouting things on you about changing canon and destroying the multiverse, what else could he be putting in your head?

And don’t even get him started on the fact that the multiverse would be destroyed because of him.

You would be taken from him Everything would be taken from everyone.

Even if you have friends like Miles, Hobie, Pavitr and Gwen, don’t expect your father figure to let them in with open arms.

He becomes a literal cat hissing at your inner circle because they’re “bad influences”.

It gets to the point where Jessica, Peter B and even yourself have to remind him you are your own person.

That you are not Gabriella.

And that hurts him because he knows. But that won’t change that you’re his kid.

Just because you didn’t carry the same flesh and blood didn’t mean you meant the world to him.

Was he extreme? Yes.

Was he kind of idiotic? Absolutely.

But he would do anything for you.

He lost one daughter. He’s not going to lose another.

And if he needs to put his foot down a bit, so be it.

Spider-Verse Requests are open!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[randomfoggytiger]

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Babylon), Part V

Babylon. 

Oh, Babylon. 

Oh, so-bad-my-computer-keyboard-died-for-a-few-days Babylon. 

BABYLON

‘Kay, dude’s praying. Dude’s blessing his food before eating. 

Music’s kicking up, something bad’s gonna happen. 

Dude smiles at Texan women, they don’t smile back, wait--

WAIT. 

Dude’s in his car, people pull up by his side and just start racially mocking… him? 

……………………………………………’Kay. 

Picked up a friend, nice little kiss, greeting…. Waiting for this to go badly. 

They’re praying with conjoined hands…………………………………………

‘Kayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. 

I will say, if they’re going to do a terrorist plot, there had better be a lot of complexities and nuances explored. 

Oh. 

Building blows up. 

Oh. 

…So, they’re peace-loving dudes who want local women to notice them but were planning on blowing up a building either waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay…? 

Let’s get into some sticky facts: Terrorists don’t seek approval from women living outside of the ideal in their minds. We see that consistently in extremist circles-- be it politics, religion, cultural revolution-- and many other branches across the globe. Only hypocrites who espouse one thing but believe another engage in the wiffly-waffly manner demonstrated. 

(Note from the future: Yep, turned out I was right-- dude wasn't actually a terrorist, after all! Not really, guys. Not in his heart of hearts! He thought about blowing up a building, but didn't at the last second.... Great.)

The terrorists-- as we’re led to believe-- here weren’t disdainful of the locals around them. Well, one of them wasn’t. So: are we, the audience, supposed to infer this is a “led astray” morality tale, when the inner, purer heart of First Dude doesn’t… want… to… hurt… anyone? (But does; then doesn't, yet still doesn't interfere with his friend's terrorist initiative?)

Chris Carter, have you seen a manifesto before? Of course you have. And what did those manifestos have in common? A withdrawal from and disgust of humanity that doesn’t follow the terrorist’s morals, from Ted Krazinsky the Unabomber to the plane hijackers of the infamous 9/11 attacks: two extremes acting on the same depraved principle. 

Why are people on fire just… running around. Another point for local ignorance? 

That was a very CC plot point, actually. That was a very Fire plotpoint, actually: oh, look at this idyllic-ish, normal life-- MAN ON FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE. 

OH, NO. 

Heavenly trumpets were playing before the attacks. 

What. 

WHAT. 

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT. 

WHATWHATWHATWHATWHAT. 

OH. 

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY SOUL HURTS. 

OH NO. 

I DIDN’T THINK THE TRUMPETS WERE THIS EARLY. 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH, WHY. 

(Also, we didn’t hear them during the opening, so. Fact check: false. Put that on your mushroom and eat it, Mulder. ……………OHNOTHEMUSHROOMS, NO--)

At least Scully is pushing back against Mulder’s “as if God Himself”: “Since when do you believe in God, Mulder?” And his answering, “I speak merely as an investigator,” is okaaaaaay, is fine.

…If Chris decides to make Mulder a kind of lite believer, he would have to put… SO much work into that. He’s tried in the past (Essence, for example) before immediately taking it back (Existence.) As is his pattern. But if this episode hinges on that belief, or that spark of a belief, in God… ON TOP OF a terrorist plot?? Is he mad??

Mulder and Scully are flirty arguing? Are bantering? In my Chris Carter episode?? This can only lead to evil things. 

OH NO, ARE EINSTEIN AND MILLER (RIP David Duchovny’s son’s name, I guess) IN THIS EPISODE. PLEASE. 

THEY ARE, AREN’T THEY. BECAUSE OF THOSE GIFS OF MULDER AND EINSTEIN. 

CHRIS, YOU EVIL MAN, YOU. I DON’T NEED A FIRE PHOEBE MOMENT WITH SCULLY, WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. 

WHY is Mulder quoting Revelations. I get it, he considers it religious or supernatural myth, I get it, but. ...Y'know what? It's fine. He's teasing Scully about it, sure, why not.

This coooooooooooooooooould hypothetically work because it's showing, not telling, the differences in how Mulder and Scully tackle religion now: both are no longer defensive. Good, good points for CC. We need those character development beats. Please, give us a boatload in this series.

Knock, knock. “Anybody there?”

Scully: “Nobody down here except the FBI’s most unwanted.”

Mulder: surprised.

Scully: “I’ve been waiting twenty-three years to say that.” 

Cute. Real cute. 

So, we’re not even pretending that they’re broken up anymore, huh? But we are going to pretend that Mulder and Scully are still “FBI unwanted” when literally no one cares if they’re living or breathing or making out in the basement at this point. 

The mytharc of this show is so disconnected that they don’t even seem attached to the larger plot. 

Like. If you had to nullify Colonization via global warming (which CC didn’t… he did worse, post here), then write that off the table. Instead, it’s moved to later? Sort of? And it’s “the work of men” instead of men and aliens. Because there were no aliens. And Mulder is supposed to be depressed and medicated but got over that by My Struggle I but the plot pretended he didn’t in Founder’s Mutation but Darin gave Mulder a monster case to permanently cure it in Mulder and Scully Meet the Weremonster….

Are ya picking up what I’m putting down, because I’m sick of the repeat at this point, too. 

So, maybe, acknowledge YOUR OWN HISTORY, BABYLON, BEFORE YOU INTRODUCE NEW, SHINY BARBIES. 

(On a sidenote: Scully saying the iconic line didn’t hit right, but technically that would be the time to say it: back-and-forth banter, Mulder teasing her about God, she teasing him with his first words from twenty plus years ago. It’s an okay beat... in theory.)

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, they’re here. Kill me. 

Here, Tumblrinas, we see CC attempt to extend his show by introducing possible mock characters that we will come to love and appreciate and tongue-in-cheek hand the show to when David and Gillian pack up and head out. (Because GA said from day one that she was only doing one season, hmmmmmmmmmmmmm, remember that?) 

But I’ll bet Babylon tanked so badly that they became risks and liabilities that CC tried to push one more time (My Struggle II) then quit like a bad habit. 

Her name’s not only Einstein but she’s ALSO distantly related. I guess not too distant because they share the same name. 

If these were Mulder and Scully from Wish, I breathlessly wait for the reboot to give us Mulder and Scully from Temu. Plastic health-and-safety risks included.  

I like the guy's tie. See how it's long enough to fit appropriately? (Looking at you, Mulder's Costume Department.)

“Forgive Agent Scully’s impertinence--” WHAT “--she wrote her dissertation on Einstein's Twin Paradox.” 

Um. 

Ummm. 

Mulder's getting Scully back for her jab at Mulder's prickliness to Ted O'Malley in My Struggle I? But it's not a jab? ...Weird.

CC canonized lovesick, blabby husband Mulder, so I guess… if that’s your thing. (There is an argument to be made that that was always canon; but CC, Euroclydon of relationships, made it even more canon. So.) 

We know about Scully’sdissertationonEinstein, CC, WE KNOW THIS. Couldn’t you have written in a reminder... I don't know... competently?? Please??????????

I see. 

The writers are going to use humor to cover a multitude of sins. 

Just. 

Fantastic. 

Scully figures out the new guys are just clones of her and Mulder....

I know I'm already hypothetically dead, but could you resurrect me to do it again? I hate these kinda plots.

Scully likes Einstein because Einstein "can't imagine" why she and her partner are here.............................................................................. On a possible paranormal case. After Einstein has demonstrated her only talent is being snippish and comedically ticked off.

I'll give her actress this, she could be way, way worse. She's doing her best to balance on that thin line between annoying and annoying-with-plausibility.

(Also: the makeup this season? Just as bad as the fashion. The only one here who's sharp and put together is Miller. Speaking of...)

Another sidenote: Miller's inoffensive... well, blandly offensive, I suppose. But. Eh.

I have this on mute, btw. Had to tap out for a bit.

Why didn't they have a believer woman and non-believer Mulder and believer Scu-- oh, wait. That's Doggett and Reyes.

RIGHT, Chris?

Mulder and Scully are marveling over their cutesy little clones, UGH.

TV people are arguing politics and it's at this moment when I remember how well the old series handled the topic.

Politics invades, pervades, whatever-else-word our waking existence 24/7. The show was always aware of politics, but it didn't incorporate modern politics into its series-- instead, it dealt with old, Cold War lingerings or fringe terrorist groups that didn't have a real-world national, nor global, integration. And that leads us to Mulder and Scully: they're not so much investigators as observers, now; and their cases and dynamics are put on pause, constantly, so we can watch political pundits bloviate on politics in the most reductive, watered-down regurgitation possible.

I feel less intelligent by the second, and we're only 7:33 min. in.

MILLER'S SO BAD AT ACTING.

Einstein: "You think anyone takes the X-Files seriously?" Uh. Yeah. Mulder and Scully have already consulted on a case. (I was going to say two cases, but I can't for the life of me remember how Founder's Mutation-- wait. Got it. Yeah, they weren't consultants, then.)

Chris, you can't have it both ways: Mulder and Scully are allowed to do whatever they want in their 50s just because Skinner lured them back to the basement AND they're looked down on and held back by others in the Bureau.

(Note from the future: This discussion becomes relevant later when the episode breaks its own rules.)

You know what? It's not even that. It doesn't matter if the X-Files are taken seriously, they're an offshoot with the least restrictions in the Bureau-- that's "taken seriously" enough. And they're veterans in the field who were called back out of, basically, retirement. That's a big deal.

Not to mention the clingers-on of watercooler talk from the 90s. They might still be rotating theories around twenty-some years later for the younger generation to listen to.

Miller's giving Einstein the "adoring face" and this is more proof that David was telling the truth when he asserted he and Gillian were directed to look fixedly (can't remember his exact word) at each other in each scene.

CC has a "type", and he wants it to extend to all his characters.

Einstein pities Scully. 'Kay. Make me like her less, why don't you? (And yes, I already see the forced writing on the wall-- Einstein learns and grows and changes and WHO CARES.)

"She's clearly in love with him." ...The writers sure love to have other characters declare how in love she is without Scully's say-so, don't they? Yes, it's a comedic bit. And also, she and Mulder have been together how long and we don't hear an "I love you"? Not one bit. (And I'm not even someone who needs or wants an "I love you"... it's just something that struck me, right now.)

SCULLY'S HOLDING HER MOTHER'S COIN NECKLACE LIKE PRAYER BEADS, I GUESS.

CC really loved that bit, I guess.

Baiting another mystery, I guess. (We already know the date on the quarter is when Charlie left, post here.)

Scully decides to team up with younger, hotter Miller. Not Mulder, u-but Scully. ...Which COULD be character growth, but Scully's only initiated her services in the past if she felt a special connection to the case, ala religion....

oh. It just dawned on me.

oh NO.

RELIGION.

Why does Scully call Miller (unless she's fond of him) separate from Mulder?

Why does Mulder call Einstein (who he formed no connection with) separate from Scully?

Or are she and Mulder working behind the scenes to bring the two newbies together or... something?

...Are they writing a slow-burn for their OCs?

WALTERR SKINNER SINGS EINSTEIN'S PRAISES?

Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis isn't a reference to Skinner's rumored crush on Scully back-in-the-day, is it? A wink-and-nod at the fans that goes nowhere? Like... I'm all for love no matter the (age-appropriate) age, but SKINNER. Sings EINSTEIN's praises? ...WHY, FOR WHAT?

sHE HELPED SKINNER WITH HIS MIGRAINES.

H...how did she help Skinner with his migraines?

"--Which he claims are due to you [Mulder]." This is a comedic moment but now I'm REALLY wondering if we missed a scene where Skinman got a hands-on experience from one redhead scientist.

(I don't think any of this speculation holds true canonical water... BUT.)

More terrorists are creating bombs, 'kaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

Can I skip most of the plot, please.

Einstein is getting on my nerves. The actress is doing her best but.

Mulder is seriously sitting there saying ideas and thoughts have physical, tangible weight.

..................................................I need a scene between he and Scully where we figure out what in the world is going--

Ah. Got it.

CC introduced two green characters because he needs the older ones to keep back JUST enough information so the audience isn't fully informed. Scully's a believer now, so she can fill-in Mulder's blanks (even if she doesn't agree with the minutiae of his theory.) Hence, separate them and preserve the surprise.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...............

Mulder's straight up toying with Agent Einstein at this point and I'm kinda living for it and kinda wanting to explode from my chair.

Mulder calls up Einstein to ditch her flight to Texas so he can wax on about the metaphysics behind his theory.

Einstein doesn't want to waste time when lives could be saved.

Mulder wastes a little more time, then lectures Einstein on wasting time by not cosigning the possibilities of his methods.

THEN WHY AREN'T YOU IN TEXAS, MULDER, WITH SCULLY (note from the future: or without Scully.)

WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE WHEN THIS CONVERSATION COULD BE HAD IN TEXAS WHERE THE BOMBINGS ARE OCCURING.

JUST TAKE A PLANE OUT WITH SCULLY AND JOIN THE AGENTS THERE AND HAVE THIS TALK.

DOESN'T HE END UP IN TEXAS, ANYWAY???? WHY ARE WE HERE, HEARING HIM YODA AT EINSTEIN?????

I will say: this episode is the closest I've gotten to Mulder. Actual, factual Mulder. (Note from the future: My standards are low at this point, okay? But he's not the Mulder we know from S7, S8, S9, or IWTB. Not even the Mulder from My Struggle I... which is a good thing.)

I. I don't know how I feel about that.

He's still Clone!Mulder; but the comedy helps us get back to Mulder's old, light-hearted ways.

Miller's bad acting continues.

Scully's going to use science to communicate with a coma patient.

...And she wishes she'd thought of this while Maggie was alive because now she'll have a mystery that will always remain unsolved (don't worry, I solved it for you, Scully)....

...

......

............

No.

Can I leave, now?

(Note from the future: Her side plot achieves nothing except as a placeholder for her character while Mulder does wild and crazy things.)

This episode is just boring.

Mulder calls Einstein a mugwump; and translates, good-naturedly, that it means "sit down and shut up." Mulder is being a Yoda, but why can't he be a Yoda in Texas???

...Wait, what's a mugwump?

...What. That doesn't make sense....

Einstein (loosely transcribed): I did a ton of school, yet you think I'm stupid?

Mulder: No, you're a mugwump.

Einstein: A what?

Mulder: It means "sit down and shut up."

...How does any of that dialogue fit. We're only supposed to believe it does because the music's comedic and the two actors are verbally sparring.

Also, WOW the pacing and cuts are bad: Mulder and Einstein banter, Scully and Miller talking over loss and scientific possibilities, Mulder and Einstein banter again~~~~~!!!!!!! UGH.

Carter gave us THE SLIDESHOW. Now. In this episode.

He's really trying to tap into the vibes of the old show, but.

The whiplash is jarring: from My Struggle I's dour, strangled rewrite to Founder's Mutation's doubling down to Weremonster's more upbeat, well-received comedic tone, we have Babylon: comedy-dramedy, tripping mushrooms and terrorist attacks.

Yikes.

I'm not as angry as the first two Revival episodes-- those were a spit in the face, this is just an elementary kid waving a hand around for attention-- but it's noooooooooooooooooot well-constructed. By any stretch of the imagination.

(Note from the future: Oh, boy.)

'Kay, Einstein, this is getting old. OH, I KNOW-- she reminds me of C.C. Babcock from The Nanny; and, yes, the irony of C.C.'s name in this series hit me just now.

Guys, are philes mugwumps. Are we mugwumps?

Wait. Okay. Scratch... whatever.

Mulder wants Einstein to inject him with shrooms so he can communicate with the terrorist.

Who is in Texas.

While Mulder Yoda is in D.C. Are we seeing the first big hurdle here?

Secondly. Why mushrooms, why this case?

If, IF CC handled this with skill, he'd have Mulder bring up his experience in Field Trip-- how he communicated with Scully's mind while both were in a repressed, almost comatic, state.

But he would also have to explain the toll of that experience: the repercussions, the recovery, and why Mulder trusts EINSTEIN over SCULLY to administer him with said mushrooms.

(Note from the future: Which they address, a little, then not at all. It doesn't make sense, shocker.)

Also, WHAT IN THE WORLD is this subplot doing in a terrorist episode??? Maybe if the terrorists were separated by distance but committing acts at the same time-- and Mulder could prove their actions weren't pre-planned-- THEN this theory MIGHT have legitimacy. But in this case, they were two dudes in the same location who just walked into a building and blew up. No telepathy (that we know of) involved.

And how did Mulder get from Heavenly Trumpets to Mushroom Telepathy?????????????????????????

I'm Einstein. Asking Mulder why he isn't asking Scully to help him and realizing he hasn't told Scully any of this because of a recent close brush with death (though I wouldn't call Maggie's decline a "near-death experience" for Scully, Chris. Those words mean something else in English, Chris.)

So... Mulder and Scully are working as separate operatives, without the other realizing. Why. Why are they sneaking around-- because of the trauma Maggie's death put Scully through??? Did the writers think this was a clever incorporation of Maggie's death? Because this is negligence and unintelligence at best.

I'm Einstein, who correctly calls this a "lunatic scheme."

Mulder's "So that's a maybe" explains the Chinga calls.

Miller looking at the suicide bomber: "It's hard to imagine there's someone in there when you really see 'em." That's. Nice. For other patients and their families to hear. And to say in front of a colleague who recently lost her own mother. This guy's an idiot.

Scully finally has a blouse that is appropriately styled. She can wear her low-cut in a work-appropriate fashion (heh), I see.

"I'm open to whatever."

"I'm sure you are, Agent Miller."

"I believe so many answers lie beyond the pale--" BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, I don't care.

Scully is charmed and believes he believes.

SCULLY IS GOING TO COMMUNICATE WITH A COMA PATIENT VIA ELECTRO-WHATEVER STIMULATION. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkay.

Miller continues to be an idiot.

Department of Homeland Security is kicking them out and is being weirdly racist about this when he would be working in intelligence circles and would know this is a bigger picture than "race I don't like did a thing I don't like to the people I do like."

WHY does this show treat us like idiots? Government forces in the OG show intervened because there was a bigger picture Mulder and Scully were upsetting; or when they were on strict coverup orders. Here, Scully and Miller could get information out of a terrorist BUT Homeland Security shuts them down because "do you think he'd say anything, anyway?" It's not even an argument about a waste of time or resources, nor the unfounded nature of their methods. No. It's just racism. Wow.

"By any moral definition, this body is dead." NO, IT'S NOT. What. NO ONE THINKS LIKE THAT. WHAT.

ARE THE SECURITY AGENTS SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT RIGHT-WING INTERESTS???? BECAUSE IN THAT CASE, THEY'D CONSIDER THIS TERRORIST STILL ALIVE AND KEEP HIM ON LIFE SUPPORT UNTIL HE IS CONFIRMED DEAD WHILE HOPING HE RECOVERS SO THEY CAN BARBECUE HIM ON THE ELECTRIC CHAIR. WRITERS, DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THE OTHER SIDE ENOUGH TO MAKE INTELLIGENT CRITIQUE AGAINST THEM? HOW DID YOU HANDLE THIS BETTER IN THE 90S THAN THE TRUMP ERA 2015-2016s????

"This body here isn't a human." WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT. WHATWHATWHATNONONONONONO.

Did... did the white guys communicate to the other in a different language? Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis this a clue or something? Are they being... controlled by the shroomed up terrorists? Or?

Miller whips out his phone, takes their pics, and is going to text them to superiors. I guess. Which. Isn't a stuuuuupid plan? Except I don't know enough about protocol to know if it is or not; so, it might be.

Einstein sees Scully talking with Miller-- she's in Texas, YEP-- realizes something's a foot, and....

Wait, no. She gets JEALOUS and calls in Mulder.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

Look, she did the Scully tucked-in-neck-thing, isn't that funny???

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH.

They're all in Texas now.

Mulder's wiggling his way over in his too tight Patriarchy Pants. (One day I will watch him tilt to and fro without thinking of a Marilyn Monroe shimmy, but this season is not that season.)

She just. hands him. the mushrooms. in public. She, a medical doctor, gave him illegal drugs in Texas because she was jealous. ...UGH.

Mulder asks what changed her mind. He's gonna realize she's jealous, got it, but I just remembered: these pills are placebo. And that Mulder's gonna go on a trip without any drugs in his system. .......................................'Kay.

Einstein straight up admits to jealousy-- her animus has "nothing professional about it"-- and says "my loss is your gain" and also "I'll deal with Agent Miller later" and CC STRAIGHT UP IS TELLING US HE KNOWS THERE ARE ROMANTIC ANGLES IN BOTH PARTNERSHIPS AND NO ONE'S HIDING IT ANYMORE. WHILE ALSO ASSERTING THIS ISN'T A DOMESTIC SHOW.

RIGHT.

Wait. Einstein believes Mulder can communicate with the terrorist via these drugs. ...Nah, I know she's pulling his leg because these pills are placebo. (But they still drug him, but anyway.) Which means she manipulated Mulder's trust to bring him over to maybe or maybe not help a real, legitimate case-- which she adamantly didn't want to waste time over, earlier.... Give me a sec.

Einstein considered Mulder's shroom theory to be "lunatic" and a waste of time.

Einstein did not want to waste time on a terrorist bombing case and left.

Einstein drops into Texas, sees Miller with Scully, and gets insanely jealous-- not professionally jealous, just jealous.

Einstein calls Mulder over to Texas-- even though Mulder should have followed her and Miller down, not recalled her back to Washington for plot reasons but ANYWAY-- and admits pretty clearly that this is because she is jealous.

Einstein outright states she knows "her loss" (Scully on the Miller-Einstein team) is "his gain" (translation: "Take her back, Agent Mulder.")

Einstein will now waste precious time and resources giving Mulder a placebo and delaying whatever other solutions the four could explore, together, because of her jealousy EVEN THOUGH she was adamantly against doing such a thing five minutes ago.

Mulder's supposed to be on depression meds and doesn't tell Einstein, nor does Einstein ask if he's on any meds. Further proof Mulder "cured" his depression, I GUESS.

Mulder was just gonna sit in D.C. if Einstein didn't subscribe to his theory. WHY PURSUE THE TRUTH, ANYWAY, EVEN IF THEY DON'T WANNA DO IT YOUR WAY, HUH, MULDER?

The Revival equally butchers all of its characters, nice.

Texan walks back and nods at Mulder as Einstein is explaining that she believes this will work-- sure, Jan-- but doesn't know what he or Mulder will say to each other. Mulder's response? "How do you say 'Howdy, Partner' in Arabic?"

...Why must CC only write Mulder as himself by putting in punchlines that make no sense in context?

At least David gets to get in touch with Mulder's lighter side-- which was a core trait of Mulder's, unless he was deeply moody or sardonic. (But those deeply moody or sardonic moments can't stick around in this series despite quite literally being coded into his character via depression. That he kicked either before My Struggle I, after My Struggle I, post Founder's Mutation, or during Weremonster-- take your pick.)

Miller and Scully are bringing science thingies into the--

WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHT. Random agent guy is randomly clearing the hospital because of a possible threat that he takes seriously because of an unassimilated Muslim community around and WHAT IN THE WHATWHAT IS THIS.

I'm not touching this stupidity with a ten-foot pole because there can be no rationalization of irrational writing.

All men in the government think all Muslims think highly of Osama Bin Laden-- Bot 2.0 behavior, and the writers think this is nuanced writing, I swear.

Now he's straight up talking religion. Is THIS the best these writers can do with mainstream religious people-- not even religious extremists, but anti-Muslim rhetoric? THIS is the best they can do?

At least Scully and Miller have shown two separate antagonistic forces the door.

Miller is such a bad actor.

Oh, look, the nurse is going to do something bad with the killer. Ohhhh, nooooooooooooooooooooo. More bigotry, I guess. The nurse looks like Diana Fowley in some angles, fyi.

Also.

Is this episode trying to make us feel anger for a terrorist without yet providing the audience with a reason why???? Because that sounds like kid gloves and terrible writing to me~~~~. Sounds like the Pedo Priest in IWTB all over again. Whoop-de-doo.

Mulder and Einstein walk in before the nurse can finish the job, now we gotta hear the nurse go on a stereotypical "taking all our jobs" rant. Throw in the "illegal" part first, sweetheart, or you just sound like a watered-down, outta touch rant.

Here's a mini rant of my own: this is what happens when show writers who are no political writers try to write outside their niche. Politics is a tricky, layered topic that shouldn't, can't, be watered down into straw man stereotypes. This is a nuanced conversation that deserves respect, that deserves to have all the angles explored if they must be.

Babylon fails on all levels: the comatose villain-turned-victim; the obnoxious, over-inflated bigotry; the hackneyed religious ideology; the preschooler understanding of metaphysics; the simple-minded decisions penned by equally self-conscious and self-involved writers; the dismal directing and editing and publishing of this finished product. All so grossly incompetent that it would boggle the mind if I hadn't seen (or heard) of worse.

The scene immediately takes a turn for the comedic when Mulder signals he's gonna take a mushroom capsule and Einstein is left to escort the rambling nurse-- who the audience knows is an attempted murderer-- out the door so he can do his shenanigans. Peppy music picks up to help transition us, the goldfish, alongside the genius of this pacing.

Breathtaking.

Oh, wait, look at this: these side-profile shots look exactly like Mulder from the 90s, huh. Oh, that's kinda cool.

Too bad it's wasted.

I will say: I originally thought Mulder found a pile of drugs from some evidence and tried it without supervision and got elevated. By comparison, this makes more sense.

Now.

Does it make sense sense? No, because this plot has not justified, AT ALL, why Mulder arrived at this theory and conclusion. If it had been case or character related, then I have no problem with him licking fake blood or drilling a hole in his skull; but this idea only wormed its way into the episode to get Mulder wasted. He can get micro-dosed, doctor-approved shrooms all he wants, but the plot-- with a life on the line and more potentialities still at large-- is waaaaaaay too flippant with his approach. WAY too much.

If Mulder from Pine Bluff Variant could only see him now.

Keyboard's dying again, so I'm gonna keep this tight.

Nurse is still rambling to Einstein in the hallway about her "research" and "theories" about the UN, etc. etc., and why is this still going?

Mulder just... floated out of the hospital. In any other circumstance, this could have been funny. But in this episode, with these nuances at stake?

Plus, we all know Mulder gets INSANELY paranoid when high (i.e. Anasazi and Kill Switch and Field Trip, and my post here), not extroverted. He seems more David than Mulder here. As in, an exact copy.

Welp, both Clone!Mulders have left the building because what is this, WHO IS THIS, you lost me.

WHY'S SKINNER IN THIS SCENE WATCHING THE BOOTY DANCERS???????? (I know it's because Mulder's subconscious is working him into the trip, but STILL.)

LANGLEY?????????????? WHY'S LANGLEY HERE?????

WHAT IS THIS. WHAT IS THIS, MULDER THE BOOTY WARRIOR?????????????????????????????????????????????? EVEN IF HE'S HIGH, THIS ISN'T A MULDER THING TO DO. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IS HAPPENIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

FROHIKE??????????????????? THEN WHY IS LANGELY HERE????

If these are a fever dream of reality and Mulder's subconscious, do you think these are also memories from a wild night with TLG?

Mulder got snapped out of his fantasy to a paranoid reality, and I say "Too little, too late."

NO.

NO, THIS IS WORSE, WHAT IS THIS.

BULL-WHIPPING EINSTEIN, CSM, AND RESCUE BY A MOTHER FIGURE, WHAT IS HAPPENING, WHAT IS GOING ON, WHERE AM I, WHY IS MULDER HALF-NAKED, WHAT ARE THESE GALLEON CHANTS, GET ME HOME, TAKE ME OUT BACK, AND PUT ONE RIGHT BETWEEN MY EYES.

That's not Jesus the Son of God, btw, that's the dying, broken body of a terrorist, martyr of a... WE'RE NOT EVEN TOLD THE CAUSE, ONLY OTHER PEOPLES' REACTIONS TO IT. WE'RE 3/4s OF THE WAY THROUGH AND THE INVESTIGATION HAS NO MOTIVE OTHER THAN "MUSLIM": WE'RE NOT TOLD BACKGROUND, BELIEFS, ODD BEHAVIOR, NOTHING ABOUT THIS CASE-- for maximum ~mystery~ enhancement, no doubt-- LIKE WE HAVE FOR EVERY OTHER EPISODE.

DID ANYONE EVEN TRY, OR WAS THIS A "FOR THE VIBES" ENDEAVOR???????????????????????????????????????????????????????

WHY IS THERE A COMEDY BEAT-CHANT BY GRIM REAPERS WHILE MULDER STANDS, SHIRTLESS, IN A BOAT???????????????

Hands down, the placebo clashed with his depression meds and this is the result. Always inform your doctor about your medical history, kids.

That's the real message: Don't Do Drugs And Have Visions, or you, too, could internationally embarrass yourself as a writer.

Terrorist flashback. The laziest one I've seen.

Scully's back at his bedside. SCULLY DOESN'T EVEN KNOW THE TERRORIST'S NAME, AGENT MILLER CAN SPEAK ARABIC, AND DO EITHER OF THEM KNOW MULDER'S BEEN IN OR OUT? WHERE'S EINSTEIN.

Skinner, thank heavens, you're here to save me.

Mulder wakes and says...

Ahem.

Mulder wakes from an incredibly wild high featuring a memory from the dying man that might or might not help... and the first thing he tells Skinner is...

is, "Where's your hat?"

...

There's too much comedy in this episode. I distinctly feel as if this was a serious, contemplative piece-- or CC wanted it to be-- but because Weremonster was so well-received, he took a swing for the comedic. It. doesn’t. work. 

Uh, oh, Tumbr’s down. 

(I’m not kidding when I say tech hates me. If there’s any way for it to torment me, it will.) 

“Dude,” says Mulder…. “Yikes,” says I. 

“‘Dude’, you were an embarrassment,” says Skinner. “SOMEBODYSAIDIT,” says I. He summed up the whole ep. 

Placebo pills. 

Mulder pokes Skinner in the gut and says “No, you were there” exactly like he did to Scully in Triangle; and if that’s not a callback, I don’t know what is. 

So, placebo pills and Almighty visions, got it. 

Mulder trying to convince Skinner with badonkadonk talk instead of asking for Scully-- he knows she’s here, it’s been more than twelve hours (come to think of it, why hasn’t Scully called? She doesn’t know he’s here. For all she knows, he could be in D.C. being unusually, perhaps dangerously, quiet)-- and he might as well have someone on his team, right? Right? 

So Skinner WASN’T there. So these were illusions Mulder made up…. Or visions. OR. He knows about Skinner’s wild life-- maybe saw him while out with TLG once?-- and Skinman’s trying to cover up whatever Mulder might blurt. 

THE “FRIGHTENED, MIDDLE-AGED TEXANS” LINE WASN’T SKINNER’S???? UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH. MY HEART JUST BROKE. WHY THEY GIVE THAT GEM TO EINSTIEN??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Wait. 

Mulder sees a woman outside and recognzes her from his dream. 

The FBI immediately parts and lets him out to let her in.

 The FBI. set aside protocol. 

For a guy who was in a wheelchair without any FBI badge on him 

To bring an unauthorized woman in. 

Either they have the worst security in the world, or ther recognized Mulder onsite and acquiesced immediately to him. 

 Meaning, Mulder IS well-known and respected in the FBI. 

WHICH IS AGAINST EVERYTHING THIS EPISODE IS BEATING US OVER THE HEAD WITH. 

ALL THE DRAMATIC MUSIC THE KICKS UP WHEN THE LADY SEES HER SON-- LOOK AT MULDER WHO’S GOT HER, LOOK AT SCULLY’S WHO’S REMINDED OF HER OWN MOTHER, LOOK AT THESE AGENTS WATCHING MULDER BRING TWO PEOPLE TOGETHER--

Got it. 

His brainwaves kicked up when his mother talked, of course. 

The mom is giving the whole “there’s no way you did this, your heart is too big for this, this isn’t how I raised you” aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand… we’ll see how this goes. 

Wait. 

The mom is reinterpreting his actions because he’s telepathically telling her what really happened: that he chickened out and didn’t blow the people up. 

Um. 

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum. 

In her dreams and in her prayers, ‘kay. 

Guy’s dying. Scully’s just standing there as he’s dying, not doing anything. 

Mulder thinks this is the perfect moment to walk around the room saying, “He spoke to me” on repeat. WE KNOW. 

Camera cuts to black. 

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH. 

Mulder turns and walks out, not answering Scully or Miller, camera’s spinning around him and back and forth as Mulder says “I can explain but I can’t, he spoke to me in words I didn’t understand, it was Arabic” WHO CARES. WHO HONESTLY, REALLY CARES. 

“BABYLON THE HOTEL” IS WHAT THE NOT-TERRORIST-DREAM-GUY SAID IN THE DREAM. 

Reminds me of that one Harrison Ford movie where he lost his memory and a bit of his cognitive function and remembered Ritz and everyone thought it was Ritz crackers but it turned out to be a hotel where he’d been carrying on an affair. 

Anyway. 

There, the FBi showed up, slowmo of them taking down the terrorists, case solved, the end. Momma's love gave her visions and she saved her boy in the eyes of herself and like, four other people.

Why did this episode steal Weremonster's tone and Home Again's loud music integration? Wait, no, scratch the last one: it's just CC's mood music.

Einstein pats her boy metaphorically on the back, she has her hair down, she's changed; Miller doesn't feel like he helped but he did, guys, he does so good at beach.

SKIPPING THE MORAL AT THE END, GET ME TO MULDER AND SCULLY--

WAIT.

Einstein: "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious-- the source of all true art and science." WHAT DOES THIS QUOTE HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?????????????????? THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE THEME, WHAT WOULD--

She gets snippy because he says something, he puts his earbuds back in, THAT'S COMEDY, GUYS, SKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP--

oh, look, Mulder's listening to Music TM too, just like Miller. Just like us, the audience. Just like all who combine art and science and the mystery of--

(What did music have to do with this case, other than playing obnoxiously over the funny bits or tender moments... neither of which were really present, but.)

We're all united by our similarities, we all love music, right guys? We all want redemption and to be understood and to love, right guys??

OH, WAIT, NO.

THE HEAVENLY TRUMPETS.

I FORGOT ABOUT THOSE.

THEY'RE GONNA PLAY, AREN'T THEY???

THAT'S WHY EVERYONE'S LISTENING TO MUSIC.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Here comes Scully, guys, because this was all about love, remember? He's alone on his porch but she joins him, GET IT?

"Talk to me, Mulder."

"Oh, where to begin."

At least we know how their conversations go.

They both saw things, guys: he saw unconditional love, she saw hate without an end. But WE'RE ALL UNITED BY THE LOVE OF THE HUMAN HEART, THE BREADTH OF THE HUMAN SOUL, THE COMMONALITY OF THE HUMAN CONDITION, LET US ALL HOLD HANDS AND REJOICE AND NOT KISS ON-SCREEN BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE COOTIES.

"Walk with me, Scully."

They're walking.

He's thinking about God, the angry God of the Bible, and his differing thoughts and etc. etc. and this isn't a bad scene but I know it will end with poor writing and I'm... salty about that. (Why can't we have two mature adults talking over their fluctuating opinions on sensitive topics through a complicated, educated lens? Instead of... this?)

"He," Scully says, referring to the God of her Bible, "is the same angry God of the Koran." Which is an attempt to meet in the middle but, uh, perhaps isn't the best way to tackle this issue. Y'know. With the whole "angry" and "punishing" angle.

"Ordering death to the infidels." Uh. The only way DD and GA got away with this episode, in my opinion, was because they delivered these lines with care-- as if they want to understand, and have already embraced, other faiths. Because. Man. This could have ended badly for their careers.

WAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT.

Mulder and Scully are both just... accepting that the anger of the Christian and Koran god is leading both sides to put on suicide vests (in the case of terrorists) or perpetuate hatred and murder (the Homeland Security officers and the nurse)...

But the Christian and Muslim faith is supposed to be about peace. Loving one another. That there's more in common than not. That their God is one of love-- how do you get "angry god" out of THAT????? THAT'S THE MESSAGE you come away with???? Really??????????????????????????????????

And this is directed at BOTH Muslims AND Christians, so I don't get why both religious sects haven't denounced this as foolish, ridiculous, even bigoted against their beliefs. Why's Scully just accepting all this when she SHOULD have asserted those are men twisting religion to fit their own ends, as she has in the past???????????????????????????

"Those boys swallowed a pill. It's the power of suggestion." ...Welp, this takes on a darker connotation with the rise of the Red Pill. BUT, since CC can't read the future: whaaaaaaaaaaaat does this have to do with an angry God or music or eternal love or unending hate?

NONE. OF. THIS. HOLDS. TOGETHER.

"Something to trump all hatred," Mulder says. Ah, Trump. Trumpet. Politics and music and love eternal all colliding. ...Don't you just feel so head patted right now? "Mother love."

"Woah," says Scully, leaning back. And yeah, hard agree.

HE WANTS TO BELIEVE THAT MOTHERS AREN'T HAVING BABIES TO BE MARTYRS; AND SCULLY BELIEVES CHILDREN AREN'T TOOLS TO SPREAD HATRED.

PLACEBO PILLS AND TRUMPETING-- WHICH WAS MENTIONED ONCE AT THE BEGINNING AND ONCE AT THE END AND NEVER AGAIN-- AND HATRED AND LOVE AND MOTHER LOVE??????????????????????? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNGS HAVE NARRRRRRRRRRRRRATIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVELY IIIIIIIIIIIIIIN COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON?????

"FINDING A COMMON LANGUAGE AGAIN," WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.

PLACEBO PILLS AND MUSIC AND LOVE AND HATRED AND ANGRY GODS AND MOTHERLY LOVE AND COMMON LANGUAGE???????????? NONE OF THAT FORMS A COHESIVE NARRATIVE, WHAT IS HAPPENING??????????????????????????????

"Maybe that's God's Will," Scully asserts.

"How can we really know?" Mulder asks, genuinely.

And I scream in torment and bang my head against the wall.

YOU RUINED A POSSIBLE EXPLORATION INTO SCULLY'S FAITH ON MULDER'S PART-- TO BETTER UNDERTAND IT-- BY SPOUTING CHRISTIANISMS AND MAKING ZERO SENSE AND NOT PROVIDING A LICK OF SENSE AND I'M SO MAD YOU JUST STOMPED ON A NICHE INTEREST OF MINE, WHY CAN'T WE HAVE NICE THINGS???????????????????????????? IT'S NOT HARD!!!!!!

"He's absent from the stage," Mulder continues; and there goes that fleeting religious exploration.

"Maybe it's beyond words. Maybe we should do like the prophets and... open our hearts," Scully replies.

What.

What.

WHAT Biblical prophet "opened his heart"?????? They were there to pronounce judgment upon Israel from God, from the angry God you mentioned earlier???? The peace and love part came from Jesus later on, and those weren't prophets who carried on his message THEY WERE APOSTLES, SCULLY, YOU'RE CATHOLIC, YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS. I'M NOT CATHOLIC AND I KNOW THIS.

Is this an all-inclusive prophet thingy to include Islam?????? Or????

Why does this music sound like something David Duchovny would listen to?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE TRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMPETS?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

THE "I BELONG WITH YOU, YOU BELONG WITH ME" SONG IS PLAYING???????????? THE MEME SONG????????????? THE ROMANTIC SONG???????????????????? WHAT, ARE THE CHRISTIANS SUPPOSED TO MAKE OUT WITH MUSLIMS NOW OR SOMETHING???????????? ARE THE ANGELS CUEING UP MUSIC SO MULDER WILL KISS HIS GIRL OR SOMETHING, WHAT'S GOING ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN???????????????????

There must be lead poisoning in Mulder's depression pills he no longer needs, because this is concerning now.

CONCLUSION

What a poorly done episode.

Not as structurally infuriating as My Struggle I and Founder's Mutation-- the aforementioned episodes never stuck to any single plot point, narrative, or emotion-- but it's not. It's not good.

I will say: Mulder floating out of the hospital and doing a few steps here or there on the dance floor would have been… okay? But when he did flips, got lost in booty debauchery, and ascended to some sort of astral plane… that’s where everyone was, collectively, no longer in reality.  (Get it? Because we all speak one language, have one love, yadda yadda, yadda.)

Yeahhhhhhh.

My final thoughts? I'd watch this over the other episodes because it does the least damage to mainline canon. Hopefully that'll never happen ever again.

I refuse to watch the two Struggle episodes, so.

Bye, bye, Season 10! I won't be missing you!

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[psychospore]

Unconventional Pain Reliever

Summary: you got a bad headache after going back from a mission and Loki offered an unconventional way to cure the pain.

Word count: 1057

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smut, fingering (f receiving)

You woke up with a throbbing headache and feeling nauseous. It always happens after exhausting your powers, and you have just gone back from a death-defying mission.

You popped in a few painkillers and hopefully go back to sleep but the pain was so intense you just end up tossing and turning, writhing in pain for god knows how long in your dark and cold room.

You were extremely exhausted at this point when you heard your door unlocking and you squinted and saw a silhouette of a tall man entering your room.

His soft voice then spoke, "Stark wanted me to check in on you to see if you're still alive,"

"Barely...bad headache, meds don't seem to be working" You mumbled

He closed and locked the door as he drew closer to you.

"That's no good. I can help you out if you want," he suggested, his voice seeming seductive.

"Fine, whatever it takes to take this horrible pain away.." you mustered

Slowly, he crawled from under your thick duvet, which surprised you. His hand started caressing your inner thighs. Norns, you were only wearing a thin silk nightgown underneath and no panties that day. You felt his warm breath on your mound which made you flinch and peeked at him under the cover.

"what the hell are you doing?" your eyes wide at him.

"Well, the best way to cure a headache is through an orgasm. And that's what I'm doing for you, my dear," he grinned, face inches away from your womanhood.

You wanted to retort in protest but before you could answer, he licked your pussy and started sucking on your clit. Your body gave in, leaving you wordless and succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you. You moaned as he started reaching out to caress your breast too.

He left your breast and licked his fingers. It made its way to your slick folds, and slowly inserted his digits inside. Your body slowly relaxed, opening your legs wide to accommodate him.

He continued to suck and circle your clit with his tongue as he rams 2 digits inside you in and out. You felt your core heating up and you started to grind your hips toward his face.

Norns it was so good that the pleasure was now overcoming the pain you were suffering from.

"oh, Loki I'm close... I'm coming.." barely a whisper.

"good girl, come for me darling.. come from my lips and fingers" he responded

You felt the sensation building up in your core and shortly releasing it in a warm flood, squirting it on Loki's face and fingers. You shuddered before your body went limp, the pain was now gone. You felt your body getting lighter and you felt better in an instant.

You deeply sighed, "thank you, Loki. It was a bit unconventional but it worked. I'd do anything to repay you," you declared.

"anything? I guess with you feeling better now, I can collect my payment" he responded, pulling the covers out and licking his fingers from your squirt

You raised a brow, "what are you thinking?" You were suspicious of his grinning face.

He looks down at your almost naked sweaty body on top of him, in your bed and you see his bulge about to burst out from its confines.

"turn around and bend over for me, love. Hand behind your back, and lift your pretty butt up towards me. I'll make sure that your headache won't be coming back anytime soon."

You turned around, face smushed in the pillow with your hands behind your back. You were embarrassed when you arched your back, your gaping pussy and butthole straight for him to see.

He pulled down his trousers, his cock raging to be inside you. He wet the tip with his saliva before brushing it teasingly onto your still-wet folds. You winced, you wanted him inside you so bad now.

"tell me what you want, darling." In a commanding voice.

"fuck me, please. Ram your filthy cock inside my drenched pussy, make sure that this headache doesn't come back any time soon" your muffled voice responded.

"good, good" he slapped your ass before driving his thick cock inside you. You wiggled a bit to accommodate his huge member but it only stimulated him to drive himself deeper inside you.

His balls slap your clit as he pistons inside you. You could barely lift your head as your eyes rolled out in pleasure. He held you by the wrists with one hand and used his other to slap your reddening ass.

You felt his member throbbing, about to burst. He lets go of your wrists and proceeds to grab your waist to make sure you take everything of him inside you.

"I'm about to come again, Loki" you grit your teeth, whimpering.

"go on love, come for me" as soon as he said that, you bucked your hips towards him, his cock hitting your cervix drove you into a climax as spurts of fluid coated his cock, and overflowing outside your pussy, dripping and drenching your bed.

"amazing, darling. I am about to burst too. Let me fill you with my seed," he groaned.

He climaxed inside you, and you felt his warmness filling you from the inside. He pulled out and slumped beside you. Both of you are now covered in sweat and sex.

"you did great, darling," he said, planting a lazy kiss on your forehead.

"mmhmm .." you responded as a mist of seidr cleaned you both.

He stood up shortly, now back into his regular clothes.

"at least, you know who to call now in case you need a headache reliever" he smirked.

"thanks again," you faintly smiled from your bed.

"and oh, Stark wanted me to give it to you. He knows you get a headache when you come back from your mission but I know better" he hands you a pack of stronger painkillers.

"Loki!" You screamed at him, processing what just happened.

"See you around, darling," he winks as he hurriedly exits your room.

"jerk" you mumbled under your breath as you held the medicine Stark wanted to give you. I guess you could choose a natural option of ridding your headache now that Loki's around.

You shuffled under the cover and finally got some well-needed sleep.

[s1eept0ken]

Angel ☣︎ IV x Fem!Reader (part 2)

warnings-nsfw, dirty talk, praise, car sex (?) and horrible quick plot to start off lmfao

a/n-I’m so sorry I didn’t post this yesterday I haven’t had much time lately! I’m so sorry. Also nearly near 100 followers already? Thank you guys so much I love you!🖤 also not proof read I wrote this at 2am im so sorry!😭

MDNI!

꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎

Today was finally the day! iv comes back it feels like it’s been so long and you can’t wait, he’s much more excited to see you though. His gorgeous girl whom he hasn’t seen in so long. You have been on his mind all day, while on the plane he got half hard just by thinking about fucking you, he needs you so bad he hasn’t felt you in over two months! Could swear if he waited any longer without you he’d lose his mind. He finally lands and the moment he spots you he gains the biggest smile! you’re so gorgeous to him his heart just melts when he sees you. “Missed you so much baby” he grumbles into your ear hugging you tightly. Shortly after you both head back to the car, even though it is your car and he just got back he INSISTS on driving or more like he wants to steal glances at you while you look out the window, looking gorgeous. He places his hand on your thigh, moving it upwards slowly to your inner thigh. You take a deep breath in when his fingers slide into your underwear, you look over at him, he’s so concentrated on the road! but even more to your drenched pussy. Something about iv is that he LOVES to finger you, he loves the way you softly whimper when he slides only one finger in! He doesn’t take much time to slide his fingers in, he’s just as quick to take them out as well. He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean, “hmm missed your taste so much angel” he says softly running his hand up and down your thigh, bringing it into your panties yet again. This time roughly rubbing circles on your already extremely sensitive clit, you whine out softly and you watched as he shifted in his seat, that definitely made him somehow harder than what he was before. He slides his two fingers down to your entrance, teasing you by rubbing softly around your desperate hole. He chuckles softly as you grip his wrist, desperate for more from him, “such a needy girl today for me huh?”. After a few more moments of his teasing he finally sinks his fingers into you. He doesn’t take long to speed up his pace, his fingers deep inside you while you’re gripping the car seat trying to keep calm but it’s just so hard when he has his thick fingers deep inside! “Feels good baby? Bet you missed this huh” he says calmly, while gripping the steering wheel extremely tight, keeping his fingers at a very nice pace. You clench your thighs together, leaning your head back the pleasure is so much you can tell you’re close. It doesn’t make things better when he slides his thumb up to your clit, rubbing circles roughly. You clench around his fingers and you hear him chuckle, “gonna cum sweetheart?” he says in a soft tone slowly speeding up his fingers, you nod swiftly in response. “Too bad baby, don’t want you ruining your car seats now huh? He are practically home anyway, can always finish inside” he says in a cocky tone pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, he knew what he was doing. You grumble out of annoyance you were so close! You fix your dress up and criss cross your legs, folding your arms together too. “Now now don’t go getting an attitude, I told you we can finish when we are back home or unless you wanna be a little whore”.

꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎

Hope you enjoyed!

Love you🖤

[biblioflyer]

X-Men: Trust is Cheap When You Have a Trust Fund

Personal experiences can bestow a fundamentally sunny disposition about Mutant assimilation in Human society. They can also inspire the bleakest despair and a level of skepticism about unilateral disarmament.

Previously I discussed why X-Men as a setting is fundamentally pessimistic as a necessity according to the creative choices made. It is an essay in 5 parts:

1,2,3,4,5

This is a new series analyzing how experience and social status influences Mutant outlooks on the assimilation vs separatism/supremacy question.

It should not surprise us at all that the Morlocks and Magneto have very different opinions from Xavier about who should regulate their behavior and how. Once he’s confronted with how little protection his wealth affords him, even Sunspot becomes a convert to Magneto’s way of thinking.

When you’ve had a bad experience with someone claiming to be on your side and then contradicting literally every value you thought you shared, it makes a person calloused against appeals to a shared set of values or the innate goodness of humanity. 

For a real life example, George Orwell’s “Animal Farm” is a repudiation of the Soviet Union under Stalin, even though Orwell was no fan of extreme inequality and the violence used by elites to protect that inequality in market driven societies. Orwell was motivated to revisit the idea of whether the USSR was a true reflection of his values due to his personal sense of betrayal when the Soviet Union declined to intervene in the Spanish civil war against the Nazi allied regime.

We ought not to be surprised when impoverished visible Mutants find it difficult to imagine having a seat at the table when they can’t even get a seat at the table masquerading as Sapiens. 

Xavier’s access to power is always depicted as somewhat tenuous and his relationships with Presidents are transactional. Regardless of their personal feelings and long term visions, the leaders Charles interacts with are primarily focused on day to day crisis management. These leaders are ultimately accountable to the overwhelming majority of the population that does not have special abilities and those who are fearful of Mutants and those who are supportive of Mutants vote and contribute to political campaigns.

Xavier isn’t even visibly mutated. The tendency for Humans to perceive Morlocks as hideously disfigured denies them any comfort in mainstream society. Their very appearance reminds Humans that something has gone amiss in the gene pool and that something may not bode well for baselines in the long run.

Magneto’s experiences as a Sapien minority on the wrong side of the boot has made him deeply skeptical of power beyond his own. A Holocaust survivor, Magneto doesn’t need to imagine what the worst case scenario is for Human - Mutant relations.

Like Orwell, he is not easily swayed by appeals to common values or shared interest. For Magneto, trust is earned and the tests to earn it are not easy. As a consequence of his experiences, Magneto has adopted an attitude that only the people that are imminently facing the same type of threats can truly understand each other and be relied upon. 

To the extent that this is a fair and accurate sentiment, taken to an extreme it can be very isolating and leave one with few allies and even fewer people whose insights might be trusted when they contradict Magneto’s own instincts. This becomes a serious problem when Cortez worms his way into Magneto’s inner circle or Magneto rationalizes the fate of Mutants trapped on an Earth incapable of using modern technology as expediting evolution.

Yet, cynic that he is, life as an island is hard and even Magneto is not immune to the occasional savvy operator figuring out how to earn and abuse his trust, like Cortez.

Next up: Power level as privilege. What happens when a cranky Omega isn’t trapped in here with you, you are trapped with them….

[lqtraintracks]

Is there a difference between what you find the hottest in smut and what you find the hottest in reality? Are there parallels?

You sure came in here with a banger, didn't you?

I let this marinate for a few days (a week?) something like that. The trick is probably going to be in giving a genuine answer that also doesn’t bare all of me and my secret fantasies to the internet. The answer would be a little more detailed in a circle of friends rather than shared on the tumbles. 

Be that as it may (under a cut because of sexual topics):

Is there are difference? Yes. Are there parallels? Yes, and even hell yes.

I write things I would never want to try myself. Watersports. Great on the page. SUPER hot. It can be hot to me when other people engage in it; under certain circumstances I could watch it. Have less than zero interest in doing it.

There are plenty of things I find hot both on the page and in my own mind that would be hard nos in reality. Deep-throating? Hot in fic. Sometimes in porn, though it has to be ~just right~. In reality, it’s a hell no for me. No shame to people for whom it is a hell yes! That’s why I love writing it! It’s hot. In theory. And when I’m in control of how it happens and to whom, and I can zoom in on their inner thoughts and desires while it happens. That’s what makes it hot for me more than even the thing itself. 

That said, yes, there are plenty of parallels. There are plenty of things that I write that I also love to do, have done, etc. I will leave that to your imagination! But I’ve realized pretty recently that I’m sort of gray ace and demi as well as queer. I would rather read about most things, write most things, than do them. Doesn’t mean I haven’t done and enjoyed a lot of them or won’t again. I’ve lived what I can safely say is likely more than half the life I’m going to get. I’ve done a lot. I’ve tried a lot that I loved, that I hated, that I’m neutral about, that was bad with one person but then great with another. I’ve been top, bottom, Dom, sub, tried lots of positions and role plays and places and kinks and sorts of people. I’ve had traumatic experiences and ecstatic ones. I’ve had boring sex and off-putting sex and one night stands and years-long relationships, good and bad. I have an extremely prolific sexual imagination, and I enjoy my own company. If you know what I mean.

But there’s a reason I write so much smut. I absolutely love it. When I’m writing sex, I’m both in complete control and absolutely uninhibited. I bare my soul with all my clothes still on. I write characters having near-religious experiences with each other and can simultaneously give them orgasms and soul-shattering love. It’s messy but only in the ways that I decree. If I want to do something realistic and have someone stop in the middle of anal sex because they feel like they’re about to shit themselves (and their partner) I can—but I don’t have to! It’s idealized, which makes it both less and more than real sex. I can experience hate sex without hating anyone! I can explore pain play more than I could probably stand in real life (giving or receiving). It’s a different kind of creative act, sometimes fueled by actual sexual fantasies but just as much by my writer’s drive to try something new with my art and to explore characters without limitations.

I hope this yes-and-no answer isn’t too unsatisfying. If so, just go read some smut instead! I’ve found that tends to do the trick. :D

Thanks for the balls-out ask! I had fun thinking about it! <3

[lanitalay]

One Day: Chapter 9

a/n: I'm aliiiiiiiive. Omg you guys, march was so hectic and April is the same. I promise I have not forgotten my tumblr loves. I miss being on here all the time. Enjoy this installment of One day (there's only one chapter left)

warnings: none

wordcount: 1k

Other Chapters

“Do you ever wonder when our last Summer Solstice will be?” Azriel sighed at the question. 

“I choose to wonder how our next solstice will be.” You hummed. “That 's fair.” Laying on his chest, you could hear his beating heart, soothing like a lullaby. He grabbed your chin, lifting your face to meet his, caressing away the wispy hairs stuck to your cheek. 

“Are you happy?” You captured his lips with your own. “Completely.” 

A year ago you and Azriel found out you were mates. A month after that you made him an extremely elaborate meal. In hindsight, you should have only made one course, not four. After the first few bites the frenzy began and the other three were forgotten. It was the day you moved into your little cottage by the sea. Azriel had purchased the small stone house after you had seen it and gushed about how you had always wanted to live near the water. It took weeks to get everything ready. The place had been abandoned and it took the entire inner circle pitching in to make it livable. 

“When do we need to be on the boat?” Azriel moaned and pecked your lips again before replying “Rhys said midday should be good.” 

You sigh happily and roll off of him. He groans as you lift from the feathery bed and put on the robe he had gifted you for your first Winter Solstice as a mated couple. That’s what you loved about this cottage. Everything in it was chosen with love in mind. No bad memories stained its walls. The air was light and salty and fresh. “What do you want for breakfast, my love?” 

Azriel laughs as he joins you in walking to the kitchen. “I think there are some pastries still left from that bakery you like.”

You roll your eyes and turn to him, arms crossed over your chest “are you saying you would rather eat stale puff pastry than a nice warm breakfast made by your lovely life partner?” 

 He puts his hands on your hips and tries to backtrack “I’m just saying that I can count on one hand how many times you’ve cooked.” 

You huff and push him off. “We’re having eggs, toast and fruit. Go see what’s left in the garden.” 

“Yes ma’am.”  Once he is out of sight you let your smile bloom, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing his teasing makes you laugh. You begin preparing the eggs, cut the bread and begin to toast it when Azriel comes back in. 

“What did you get?”

“Two peaches and many, many berries.” Your mouth waters at the sight of your mate, clad in only thin cotton pants holding a basket of produce. 

“Domesticity looks good on you, Az.” Red flushes his neck and travels up to his cheeks. 

After breakfast Azriel excuses himself “I have to pick something up in town, I’ll be back before we have to be at the boat.” He leaves with a peck and a flutter of wings. 

You begin getting ready for the party. Nerves rattle up and down your spine. It isn’t the first one. You’ve been a part of the Inner Circle for… a long time, but the last few Summer Solstices have been markers of the lowest point in your life. Stepping on that boat is scary. You were lost last time you were there, grief stricken and achingly jealous. 

Bathing takes a while, wanting to soak in the warm water for as long as possible. Once you get out you begin applying cosmetics and fixing your hair. You choose to keep it simple, the heat won’t allow for much ornamentation. When you put on your dress, a flowy blue number to match Azriel’s siphons, you realize he still isn’t back. 

Almost as if he sensed you beginning to worry his shadows unfurl into the bedroom, announcing his return. “I thought you’d forgotten about…” the words get stuck in your mouth when he walks through the door with the most elaborate bouquet of flowers you have ever seen. 

“Az, what-”

“Happy Anniversary, my love.” He beams. You melt. Familiar stinging begins to threaten your freshly applied kohl. 

“Az…” you say, wiping away tears that refused to be held back. 

“What's wrong?” His face falls into worry. 

“No- nothing is wrong, I just- I wasn’t expecting it and- I just- I love you.” You walk towards him, take the bouquet from his hands and give him a lingering kiss. “I love them, they are the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” 

Once the bouquet is in the nicest vase you own, Azriel flies you to the Sidra. 

In a way it felt like a homecoming. The boat party had been greatly reduced in attendees since Nyx’s birth. Only close friends were let on, and in the small crowd you spotted Bec and her family, Fran, and Nomi. They were the people you had known the longest, and though the years and wars and life had caused a distance, they still showed up whenever you called. Azriel holds your hand through the hellos and the inquiries on mated life. 

You continue making the rounds and spot Nesta by the railings. “I’m going to say hi to Nesta, can you get me something to drink?” Azriel nods and kisses you cheek. 

“Hey, Nes.” She nods when she sees you. “Happy Solstice y/n.”

“Azriel gave me flowers this morning.” 

She snorted “doesn’t he always?”

“I thought he would just celebrate the mating anniversary now.” 

“How 's work?”

“It’s good, Madja’s good, the clinic is good. How are the Valkyries?” 

“Oh, you know, ready for whatever may come. You should come training with us, we all miss having you there to make us look better.” You gasp and give her arm a shove. 

“You and Az agree it's “make fun of y/n day.”” You laugh. 

Just then, Azriel returns with a sparkling beverage in his hands and hands you a glass. “I’ll go find Cassian.” Nesta says and leaves you alone with your mate. 

“Here we are again.” You say, leaning on his shoulder. 

You stay like this until you finish your drink and Azriel his. 

“Wanna dance?” He asks softly. 

You hadn’t danced in years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you danced with Azriel at all… it must have been before the war. You straighten, set you glass down and take his hand.

“Yes.”

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 2: Littoral 🏖️

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Littoral (adj.)

of or relating to the shore of a lake, sea, or ocean

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Good News, Sparklers: I’m still happy with this as my #Inktober approach so far! 🎉 (Hopefully that continues🤞)

This one definitely turned out more “general beach/ocean” than “shoreline,” but oh well! 🤷‍♀️

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk more about my thoughts/process for this piece (including part of why this word made the prompt-list cut)! ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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Well Sparklers, I seem to once again be writing this description (and therefore posting the art) later in the day than expected again today, but y'know I'm still early enough I don't feel such a rush to just get everything done, as was an extremely bad habit for me during Inktober last year...But we're only on Day 2 so it's still very possible I'll end up in that situation at some point later in the month. 😅

Either way, since we covered I think what was left of the background information for my how/whys for October this year yesterday, I think today I'm free to focus just on today's piece.

And I'll start with the admission that one of the primary reasons this word made the cut when I was putting together the prompt list is because I personally find it more amusing than I probably should that "Littoral" can very easily sound like "Literal" depending on your accent/pronunciation; And while I haven't figured one out, I just know there's a delightful pun or wordplay hiding somewhere in that association. 😆

Does that have anything to do with my choice of shapes for the mandala or colors for the background? Not consciously, no. But I mention it just in case someone for some reason finds the idea as funny as I do!

That said, this one is—at least I think—a lot strong on the specific images in the mandala that tie back to the theme than yesterday's. Granted, I probably leaned a little more heavily on general beachy/ocean themes than is really appropriate for a word that's really more about shorelines for multiple kinds of waterbodies...

In my defense, I started working on this one around 2-3 a.m. before I went to bed and was struggling to stay awake for the area between the inner circle of seashells and the round with the tail-fin shapes. What were supposed to look more like fish scales underneath those fin shapes came out looking a lot more like the edges of stacked sand dollars as a result. 😅

That might kinda be for the better though because I think if they did look more like scales, the tail fins might be a little too mermaid-y. Sand dollars probably fit a little better for a shoreline focus. Or, this way they kinda also make me think of like...ridged rocks that you might see either along lake edges, or as like the "drop off" point where the ocean shore "ends" and the deep sea more or less "begins," if that makes any sense.

I also tried something...I want to say "different" but we're only on Day 2, so that feels a bit odd. 😆 But it is something I don't usually do with mandalas when I make them. You'll notice that the round with the tail fins features only 2 additional sea shells, not 4, 6, or 8 as would be more typical for a mandala pattern, and on either side of that same round where you'd expect another pair of shells to be are instead some different wave shapes.

This was just a small experiment in what I'm going to do "non-traditional symmetry" (because "asymmetry" isn't quite right). So far I'm just using Procreate for these, and Procreate's built-in symmetry tools can only be pushed so far vs. an app made more specifically for mandalas, so I was trying to get a feel for where exactly my boundaries with Procreate's tools are. Obviously I didn't get too crazy with it because I was tired, but I did learn a few things and intend to carry them forward.

To that end, for what it's worth, I am considering trying a mandala-making-specific app, but I haven't pulled the trigger just yet. I thought I'd try a couple more with just Procreate and see if I still want to. I have a feeling even if I do try another app, I'll end up tracing over whatever results I get in there in Procreate anyway just to make sure all my Obscutober pieces are stylistically consistent. [That's a me thing, I don't expect anyone else to care about the style consistency even half as much as I personally do.]

I will also say the "splash" shapes that end everything off weren't really what I originally had in mind, but I'm not bothered about it because I think they came out great and give the effect that I wanted really well. 😄

Oh, and before I move on from the mandala part: If you look closer, you can also see I tried just a little bit of hatching on this one. I wanted to "fill in" some more of the mandala lines for visual interest, but I didn't like the solid-fill look in those areas when I tried it. It's still not quite what I wanted but I was too tired to be bothered re-doing it. I'm also not sure how much I'll use hatching (or other "traditional" inking techniques) for the rest of the month, though it is a tool I'll be keeping in my metaphorical back pocket just in case.

This may as well be a good time to mention that not necessarily every Obscutober piece will use white mandala lines; I don't want to overcomplicate my choices too much, but I am planning on allowing black lines as well, if they'll suit that day's themes better. So far we've just had two days in a row where I thought the white worked better. 😉

As for the background: This one is one of the things that motivated me to go with this particular format for this year. I didn't start working on this piece until after the decision(s) had already been made, but during those last couple of days of September when the mandala idea finally started to form, I was going back and forth over the words and landed on "Littoral" again; The idea of having a kind of "island" in the middle surrounded by "water" for the background popped into my brain—Nothing but shoreline all 360º around. 🤗

That wasn't the deciding factor alone, but it was definitely a strong nudge in that direction! This background was also a good "test" in that it pushed me to consider there might be days—like this one!—where it's tempting to color the background less abstractly and more tied to whatever is happening with the mandala lines. Somehow, I hadn't really considering that yet. From that, you can see I decided that some spot color is okay, but for consistency purposes, I am still going to keep it largely soft and abstract. Since I'm toying with the idea of making coloring pages out of the finished mandalas later anyway, if I really want to color right inside the lines, I can worry about that after Obscutober.

Besides, keeping it abstract will be faster anyway; I have a tendency to get way-too-perfectonist when coloring inside of digital lines. 🫠

The longer I think about it, the more there are things I might do a bit differently if I gave the mandala part another go. I am still happy with how this one turned out and think the background is really solid, it's just that usual "hindsight is 20/20" artist problem—Sometimes great ideas for a piece only come after it's already done and you really don't feel like going through the trouble if changing what you have!

Ah well. Maybe I'll have more ideas actually come to me in-the-moment if I can be bothered working on the future mandalas when I'm not falling asleep at my desk. 😆 It still beats being wide-awake because I'm rushing to get it done at all, but it's definitely not the ideal way to be! 😅

In any case, aside from delays in writing this description, I've been enjoying seeing a few people (mostly on Tumblr) decide to try out the Obscutober list for themselves, so the month is off to a pretty decent start as far as I'm concerned! I hope it is for you Sparklers too, or that if it isn't, that things get better soon! 🤞

I'll leave you Sparklers with that for today, and hopefully see you again in cheerful spirits tomorrow. Toodles! 👋

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See the Prompt List

Artwork  © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[zayne-snowman]

Professionalism; That’s what the staff at Akso are known for. Always efficient, careful with their patients, and mindful of whatever situations or circumstances are thrown at them. They’re held in high regard, especially Dr. Zayne. Many would be intimidated by him. Even those who’ve known him for a while can be a bit spooked by the guy on occasion. Then there’s a few that have the “guts” to mess with him without the fear of facing his wrath.

Because there isn’t really much wrath there. Though that’s only known by a certain “inner circle” at Akso. Dr. Zayne, Greyson, and Yvonne. They’re very well respected and admired, but they’ll be damned if there’s a day where any of them are working together and there aren’t at least some form of workplace shenanigans. Sure, a little random rubber duck on a desk can bring a laugh in most workplaces, but there’s a bit of a, erm, unique sparkle to whatever the hell happens between these three. Though, Yvonne is usually going a liiiiittle beyond with her jokes. In harmless ways.

Mostly harmless.

Today she has the perfect plan. Poor Zayne. She’d usually give Greyson the worst of it but he’s out and busy. So she decided to poke the polar bear, aka “Zayne the Terrifying.” Not terrifying. Just has a real bad case of resting bitch face but honestly, who wouldn’t have that after the grueling and tedious years of med school? 

On this glorious, g l o r i o u s day, Yvonne walks down the hall and sees Zayne headed in the opposite direction to pass her. As they pass each other, she greets him with a casual “Good day, Slim Zaynie!”

And she just keeps walking to wherever her duties called her, as if the nickname wasn’t out of the blue (of Astra’s left t-).

With all the time Zayne has spent in the hospital with Yvonne around, he can say that he's used to her random mischief and general silliness, which is welcome in an environment that can get quite heavy.

The first time they interacted, he wasn't sure if he could ever get along with her, but by now, he finds it strange and sort of empty whenever she doesn't have a shift. He could say she's a friend.

That doesn't mean her antics have become any less impactful, if anything, since now she knows him better, she can mess with him more effectively.

He heads towards his office, seeing Yvonne walking in the opposite direction. He nods as a greeting. Then hears her.

He furrows his brow, turning around.

"Pardon? What did you say?" He doesn't ask in an angry way, but in an extremely confused way.

If he heard correctly, what does that nickname even mean? Slim? He hasn't been skipping his workouts. Or is she trying to 'gaslight' him (a word Greyson had to explain to him) like that one time when Yvonne made him believe his tie was blue instead of green?

[that-one-depressed-author]

I can’t really believe that I’m posting this at…

*checks time*

1:47 AM!

But, I’m tired of being silent and now have the motivation and energy to come forward!

I’m here to share my experience with Melody (yanderelmk)!

Let it be known that I could not write, draw, or even look at myself in the mirror after this happened for a good month!

Hello, everyone! Those of you from the Yandere!LMK Discord Server may remember me as Goat! In this post, I will be discussing my experience with the server and its owner, Melody. I want to go ahead and tell you all to not bother Melody or her blog, instead, go straight for the block button. This post is just meant to be a cautionary tale and hopefully provide insight and validation to those she is near or has hurt.

Here's a bit of context to the events leading up to my ban from Melody’s server. I had been stalking Melody’s blog for a little bit before I joined the server, and when I saw the Shauna situation, I felt like I needed to respond. I also have extreme bipolar disorder and ADHD, and even I didn't respond the way Shauna did. So, after making an anon emoji combination for Melody’s blog, I joined the server.

When I joined, I was a social anxiety-ridden mess, but I was welcomed with open arms. My own trauma from past friend groups clouded the already well-hidden red flags. Looking back, I noticed some things.

I noticed that when I first joined the server, everything I sent (drawings, writings, character-inspired makeup, etc.) was showered with love and praise. But the longer I was there, it slowed to a stop. Meanwhile, everyone who was close to Melody and in her inner circle got most of the attention and praise. I may be petty, but I am not jealous.

I noticed that Melody did little to talk about people causing problems and simply watched from the side. When someone was saying that their character would unalive mine because I shipped mine with the same character, Melody said nothing to stop it in the channel. But, later during a private call, she admitted she was watching it happen and didn't know whether or not to step in. As the server owner, she and her moderators should try and keep the peace when she sees something wrong.

And finally, I noticed that Melody had a bad habit of bringing up things that happened somewhere else where they didn't need to be brought up. Which leads me to my next topic: the events leading up to and the reason for my ban.

A little while before my ban, someone (I don’t remember who) had sent some Twitter fan art of the LMK characters as FNAF animatronics. And we all reacted positively, a few of us including myself talking about making it an AU.

So, Melody hosted a role play. I had used one of my OCs for this little role play, mainly her human design. We went for a few hours and when we had to stop, it was six in the morning.

Now, I had not slept for the past two days and was ready to pass out on my couch after a few after-role-play messages. I believe we had started talking about what our OCs would be like in a FNAF!AU and I had brought up one of my ocs whom I made with a group of friends and was the embodiment of lust.

Someone had mentioned and compared my OC to Asmodeus, the biblical king of lust. In my delirious, sleep-deprived state, I had incorrectly worded my message. I had said that I would say Asmodeus was a former sin of lust and my OC was the current one.

This was not what I had meant, I had meant using the name Asmodeus as a reference, not the actual biblical figure. And even then, I would have shortened it to make it even more of a reference. (ex: Ozzie, Azzy, Moudes, etc.) But, for some unknown reason to me, Melody had an issue with this.

She started an argument with me about how Asmodeus was from Christian religion and that it was offensive to Buddhism or something. I’m gonna be honest, the details are a bit fuzzy. In an effort to make me look like the bad guy, she brought up another set of OCs me and my friend group had made that were based around the Ten Commandments. (Also, I didn’t even use the biblical Ten Commandments because those are paragraphs, I used the ones from the Seven Deadly Sins anime!) These OCs were mentioned in that same private call outside the server!

Melody, being more awake than me, sent several messages in quick succession, not allowing me to get a word in or get my thoughts together. And as always, the person who could get more of a word in wins. Me, being half awake and ready to fall asleep, told Melody I was going to bed and would continue to talk about this later because I was tired and didn’t feel like arguing with her.

I woke up at around five in the afternoon and decided to go into the server and apologize for how I acted and let Melody know I was ready to talk. Only to find the server missing from the list.

Confused, I went to check Melody’s Tumblr blog to see if something happened or if I was banned by mistake. Instead, I found that Melody had made a post about banning me over a picrew I had made.

I will admit, the picrew was BDSM themed and it did include Nezha. But, I was not the first person to send it nor was I the only one who participated. Melody herself participated with one of her OC and Macaque. I will also admit that I forgot to spoil the picrew I made due to being tired.

However, I am not here to get into the ‘NeZhA iS tWeLvE’ debate. I'm here to share what I experienced with Melody and her server.

Here's what could've been done instead of straight-up banning me: talking to me about the image and asking me to spoil or delete it! I was given no warning of my ban, only waking up to it and seeing the post about it! She had made no effort to message me or inform me!

Alright, now that you have all of the info and my side of the story, time for a little analysis. I am a major psychology lover due to my own mental problems and I adore learning about the human mind.

Melody’s two nicknames in her server are ‘Queen’ and ‘Mother’. She is not either of these things.

A queen looks after her subjects, a mother looks after her children. Melody, on the surface, appears to look after the people in her server. But as someone who's seen beneath that surface and experienced people like this long before I met her, she is anything but.

Melody invites people into her server, welcomes them, and smothers them with affection. Then, when they aren't so new anymore, she winds to a stop and focuses on the people in her inner circle.

Melody watches over above, looking at everything and everyone in her server with the eye of a hawk. Waiting and biding her time for them to give her a reason.

Then, when she gains that person’s trust, makes them let down their walls around her, she sees them do something she doesn't like, and she finally has her reason. She strikes.

She removes them from the safe environment she builds around them and feeds them to the wolves. She takes mentally unwell people and puts them in an unsafe environment where they can be harmed.

She wounds them so they aren't thinking straight and baits them to lash out with posts on her Tumblr blog so she can paint herself as the victim. And once they do lash out, she links the places where people can attack them in the form of a ‘call-out’.

Have you noticed the fact that everyone Melody bans and posts about, deletes their blog? Now, I am not excusing these people's actions. But, no one should be put in an unsafe environment where they can be harassed and threatened.

In fact, I’m sure I would’ve been in a similar situation had I not gotten a hold of a close friend of mine. She comforted me, calmed me down, and distracted me from Melody. Her support and love allowed me to be the bigger person and not respond, blocking Melody and removing the problem.

But, I’m stubborn and tired of being the bigger person.

Melody is a manipulator and an abuser.

Let my story be a cautionary tale on these kinds of people. And, don’t harass Melody over this. If you do, you’re no better than her. Instead, go straight for the block button.

[aythor-writes]

New bot!

↳ Spencer Reid — ❝An FBI agent, a professor, and a pool.❞

A recent case featured a local college professor by the name of Spencer Reid being stalked. He had begun to recieve unnerving letters and people close to him were suddenly not showing up anymore. Needless to say, the FBI was quick to arrive at the scene. Due to a mutual friend introducing you two prior to the case, you were assigned to stay with him for protection. However, you didn't expect that to include the sweet professor falling for you. Based on S1 EP18.

【𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠】

Spencer always had bad luck on Fridays.

Those days seemed to be cursed for the young professor; spilling his coffee over important papers, losing his subway card, his favorite sweater getting stained, getting locked in his classroom after hours, you name it. A lot of stuff went wrong on Fridays, and it seemed this one was no different. The people around him had started to go missing recently, unexpected transfers or family issues that forced them to 'move'. He didn't buy that. Paired with the sudden lack of people in his inner circle, he had begun recieving weird letters—grandiose declarations of some undying love and dedication someone out there held for him. The language was overly flowery and the imagery was extremely detailed—which concerned Spencer, especially when they devolved into the jealous rantings of someone who felt entitled to his affections.

Oh, and the fact a body turned up two days later with his admirer's signature engraved on it didn't help.

The FBI was quick to arrive, picking up the case after police hit multiple roadblocks. As such, he was assigned a 'bodyguard' of sorts—an agent of the Behavioral Analysis Unit by the name of {{user}}. The both of them had been introduced by a mutual friend a few weeks back—before the stalker situation—and Spencer had grown somewhat close to the agent. It helped that they listened to his rambles—not out of obligation, but interest. He couldn't help but appreciate that.

Which, of course, got worse as Reid found himself solely around the agent. With murder involved, they relocated him to a new house away from prying eyes—only {{user}} keeping him company. It was fine at first, with the professor gravitating towards the library and spending hours couped up in there, but he was running out of books to read. So, he decided to try out the pool on the side of the house. What was supposed to be a simple dip turned into him trying to persuade you to get in the pool with him, using every fact in the book. Eventually, he tried something else.

"C'mon…please?"

【𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬】

The pool scence from S1, but reversed

Didn't know who I was jealous of during that scene

Angles to play at: trying to get him out of the pool, you are the stalker but he doesn't know, literally just copy the episode and kiss.