#unparalleled reading experience

[thesedistantstations]

[htmlerror]

having put together that entire reading list.... midnighter is such a deeply weird character. it's like a car crash in slow motion. you think you've swerved out of the way and then you get rear-ended by 5 years of batman jokes and something so homophobic you wish you could go back to him getting called a faggot every few issues

[why-lamp]

i'm finally getting around to reading Killing Time by Della Van Hise.

you know, the Star Trek book that was so gay that it was recalled and reprinted with over 50 changes.

I got my hands on a first edition copy from Thriftbooks and decided to use a sticky tab every time something "spirk" happened

I'm only halfway through.

update its very fucking gay

[suttttton]

Writing lore-heavy fanfic for the robots series is so funny because Asimov literally just wrote down whatever thought came into his head and then never revised anything so pretty much every piece of the worldbuilding gets contradicted in some way. (Sometimes in the very same freaking book!)

So you either gotta accept that your fic is never gonna be fully canon compliant because CANON isn't canon compliant. Or you gotta get real creative with your Watsonian explanations.

For example:

On earth, there are solariums with glass ceilings at the top of the Cities that only the highest rating citizens get regular access to because real sunlight is treated as a luxury good. But also everyone on earth is so agoraphobic that the thought of being separated from the Outside by only a single wall is viscerally terrifying, and apartments at the very top of Cities are undesirable because of it.

(Watsonian explanation: There's a class divide where high-rating people who get regular opportunities to see the sun as children are less agoraphobic than low- and middle-rating people who very well could go their whole life without ever seeing the sky.)

(Side complaint because jfc Isaac 🙄: Elijah specifically says the top-level apartments are "low rent." But how can anything be "low rent" when Earth has a communist economy where every resource is assigned to you based on your rating??? No one is paying rent! No one has any money! [Anyway Watsonian explanation: Despite rent not existing for at least one full generation, and probably a lot longer than that, "low rent" is still a turn of phrase used to indicate low-quality housing assigned to people with low ratings. Maybe the medievalists brought it back idk.])

And then, of course, there's my favorite accidental retcon of all time:

Daneel has a built-in brainwave scanner that he can use to read humans' emotional states and receptivity to certain ideas. But only in the first book because Isaac forgor ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Watsonian explanation: Dr. Fastolfe removed it between books 1 and 2. Maybe it's illegal on Aurora to have a robot like that. Or maybe having a quasi-psychic robot around was just really annoying for him idk)

[verdiesque]

Thinking about that part of the first Berserk arc where Griffith arrives w the rest of the Godhand and tells Guts he's still as pathetic as usual as if Griffith himself didn't ruin his entire life because of the divorce

[once-in-a-blue-moon-rising]

LOVE it for me that when I'm feeling sleepy and watching a silly Christmas film (A Christmas Prince [2017]) but start getting a little bit bored, I have the option to READ THE AU I MADE USING THE PLOT OF SAID FILM, just with my fave LCDP characters and my personal plot improvements adding in a bit of heisting and anti-monarchist sentiment (but keeping the kissing and lying)

it's great

(also if you want to read said AU it's right here on ao3!!! for free!!!)

[altruistic-meme]

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

i went to copy the emojis and i somehow copied the whole post lolol so here

the same thing happened to me sakfhs idk why it did that ? it doesn't usually

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

because of my sister! she brought home a fic and we all read it together, and after that she would bring home more fics and share them with us. i only started writing because there was a specific kind of fic i wanted to read, but she couldn't find anything like i was asking for. so i wrote it myself!

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I finally have a new car!!! something i have been wanting for a few years!!! and it's all my own :) i am so unbelievably excited about it now that the initial stress and anxiety about the shopping/buying process is over

i have been feeling more and more appreciated(? not really the right word hhh) at work lately. i knew before that i was objectively a good worker, but it's only started to really hit me recently just how much people actually recognize that! i think it's because of a conversation i had with one of my pseudo-supervisors: i was talking to her about how it was hard because after you've been working here for some time, people stop actually introducing themselves to you. and i would always feel kind of lost because all these people seemed to know my name but i never knew who they were! because they didn't introduce themselves!! but she told me that the reason they knew my name is because people talked about me. and it hit me again yesterday bc i was working in my old area but with primarily new people, but the manager there had heard of me before!! she recognized my name. idk. it's just kind of a nice feeling that people actually do see how hard i work.

despite the horror of April, i am actually looking forward to a few things this month :) including the Haikyuu movie (please let at least one of my theaters have it, they've been having quite a few anime movies recently ;; ) and also momocon !!! which i convinced my sister to let me drag her to it lmao <3 and i'll be hunting for bsd plushies there hehehe

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

do not seek out stuff that upsets you. it is self-harm. i have so many thoughts about it, but that's the base of it. just don't.

[ writers truth or dare ask game ]

[potatosaresweet]

what the fuck did maggie stiefvater put in the raven cycle to make it feel the way it feels it's been years since i last read it but the experience was unparalleled

so many scenes felt like one of those dreams you try to recall the second you wake up but the details are already fading away, but the feeling of the dream is there and it has left you craving more

that's what the raven cycle feels like to me

[inafieldofstarflowers]

The Sunshine Court truly offers an unparalleled reading experience because you’re switching rapidly between being utterly devastated by Jean’s trauma & how little he understands about what it means to truly live and creating an unhinged conspiracy board with the scraps of information that slip out about Jeremy’s life to try to theorize what the fuck is going on with him

[deathbxnny]

Hey! May i request some abyss princess lumine, Skirk and Arlecchino x Jingliu! Reader? The reader used to be from the fallen nation of khaenriah, they were a legendary figure as they were known as the strongest swordman/swordswoman of all time. Their strengh and skilled with the blade could even rivals those of gods. However after the fall of their nation they were corrupted with the abyss. However it took a different effect on them, instead of rotting their flesh. It made them unhinged and unstable as they are ruthless and merciless. However they usually keep a blindfold as a way to surpress their bloodlust. However despite all of this they are kind and respectful until they are provoke.

I really loved writing this, Anon, so thank you for the requested and I hope you'll like this!<3

Content: Angst, mentions of death, reader is unhinged, can be read as either platonic or romantic, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not fully proofread))

》LUMINE

She pitied you, she really did. In a way, she even felt guilty and responsible for the state you were in. Lumine had met and seen you in your prime, back when you were revered as a powerful figure that reigned over battlefields with you sheer strength alone. And now, only a shell of that remains. A fragile one that's at risk of falling apart at any moment. It was tragic and yet another reminder as to why she was doing the things she did. It was important for her to prevail with her plans, if not just for you.

Your mental state was extremely unpredictable, something she learned to deal with over time. You were an even match, and that kept her bloodlust from attempting to kill her. For now, that is. She knows that she can never let her guard down around you, as much as she hates it. On most days, however, you simply calmly reminisce on a long gone past with her, perhaps out of necessity to hold onto something familiar.

Your relationship is filled with turbulent ups and downs that she always handles with ease. You may not be seeking a cure anymore to your deteriorating mental state, but she forever will look for one if it means to bring you back to your former glory.

》SKIRK

You knew each other. It's the first thing she claimed when meeting you, whilst you tried confirming it through a violent battle. It was a tie. And so, you began traveling through the Abyss together, wondering what it was that led your paths to cross. You apologized for your previous transgressions as well, something that piqued her interest greatly and hinted at your irreversible mental state.

She was careful with this fragility of yours and kept you away from the bloodlust by helping you train for it. It was natural to her to teach others, and surprisingly, you kindly accept her offer. Your condition may be incurable, but that doesn't mean that you don't understand the importance of discipline. You begin to learn that you two are strong-willed and very similar through it, a fact you enjoy deeply.

Once you open up about your past and your previous glorious life plagued by victorious battles and unparalleled power, you find yourself reflecting on Skirk's starting words to you. Was it perhaps the connection through the Abyss that made you familiar to one another? Or have you truly met before the fall of your home and nation? There was still so much to learn and experience at her side, that's for sure.

》ARLECCHINO

She has stern control over your chaotic state of mind. To some, this may be concerning, but to the both of you, this was a kind mercy. She helped you regulate the bloodlust and keep it away when it got unbearable. And you appreciated her deeply for it, especially as you knew each other for a long time.

Before your nation fell, she had heard and seen you in all your glory, fight against God's and mortals alike, making you a legend. Your stories had been lost to time by now, but that doesn't mean that she ever could forget them. You are a part of the home now, and the children are trained to deal with your unpredictability as well. They enjoy how kind and respectful you are and strive to be the same.

But alas, the pain and agony the curse had left you in made her secretly look for a cure. She was lucky not to be corroded by it in such a terrible way. And so she used her luck to help you out as well. She figured that she owed you at least that for sticking around with her here.

[thedemonofcat]

I've recently delved into the Witcher book series for the first time, and while I absolutely adore Jaskier and Geralt in the television adaptation, I must admit that their friendship reaches unparalleled heights in the books.

It's as if they both have this endearing perspective of each other, constantly thinking, "Behold this feral gremlin man I stumbled upon in the dumpster; I love him."

The genuine adoration between Dandelion and Geralt is an absolute delight to experience while reading. Their dynamic is filled with infectious joy and camaraderie, making it an incredibly enjoyable aspect of the story.

[stevejobsbuysasamsung]

Why 'The Naked Time' says so much about Spock and Kirk's relationship

Okay y'all buckle up, because I'm 'bouta read too much into subtext and symbolism for my own good,,,

In saying that, I feel that this episode reveals so much about Spock and Kirk. It portrays their attitudes and feelings towards love, relationships, and... each other??!?!?!

The premise of this episode is that there is a disease transmitted through touch. It leads the victims the descend into a form of 'madness'. The disease's manifestation is related to the individual's inner psyche; Spock himself says it forces 'hidden personality traits ... to the surface'. This happens to Sulu, who starts to yield a fencing sword towards other crewpeople on the ship. Given his love for fencing, and that he is 'at heart a swashbuckler', the illness has responded to this. This is foreshadowed by the word 'naked' in the title: to mean bare, undisguised, as you are.

Christine Chapel soon becomes ill with this disease. She confesses her love for Spock and reaches out to touch his hands. Spock flinches at first but does not choose to resist as she continues. Significantly, she says she is in love with 'the human Mister Spock, the Vulcan Mister Spock.' Chapel finishes with, 'I do love you just as you are.'

Summarily, Spock becomes incapacitated in two ways; by the physical touch of Chapel, he has the illness; but also by the denigration of logic and surfacing of repressed emotions. I mean, why does Spock hold on to Chapel's fervourous touch and apologises to her profusely, multifold? By what logic would permit this? Surely no logic that abides by the teachings of his Vulcan upbringing.

Spock is visibly overwhelmed by the confession. That, not only is he loved, he is loved as a Vulcan and as a human - a dual identity that Spock struggles to live with.

Importantly, for Spock this disease reveals the unresolved tensions of these identities and the vigorous dedication he has to silencing his human side with Vulcan logic. Spock stumbles out, tearful, and plaintively cries that he is in control of his emotions. He grasps a computer of all things, the zenith of binary choices and answers, of perhaps Vulcan logic. Then, he assures himself that he is a science officer - a professional observer - an identity which would somehow negate the feelings he is experiencing. But even scientists, humans, and Vulcans can experience emotions, and this fact, coupled with the encumberment of this disease, causes Spock to unravel.

The height of this episode, for me, is when Kirk finds him. Through glassy windows of tears, Spock looks to Kirk and laments that he can never tell his mother that he loves her (because he is Vulcan). He then looks to Kirk and says, 'when I feel friendship for you, I'm ashamed'. The emotion that Spock is battling is not grief, anger, sadness, but, let's face it, love.

When they start slapping each other, they actually... tightly hold hands. To me, they're ferociously making out, full pash sesh, heaving petting.

And where, earlier, in a similar embrace, Spock found himself restricted by Chapel, Spock holds on to Kirk's hand for dear life.

This next bit seems like it runs unparallel to Spirk as a ship, but let me explain why it doesn't. Kirk contracts the disease from Spock, and also battles with the impossibility of love as the Ship's Captain. This love is dedicated to his yeoman. Immediately, it seems as if Spock has ... recovered? He switches off, begins to take control of the situation and the impending doom that would occur if they don't get power for something something sciency words something to do with engines. When Spock seeks Kirk in this state, it's as if he has responded to Kirk's lack of affection. The illness appears to recede.

Where this comes full circle is with the writing on the wall (literally). Spock observes, 'Love Mankind' on the wall.

This may relate to embracing his human side, and further his love for Kirk.

Kirk's writing on the wall? In the turbolift, upon finishing his comments about his love for his yeoman, is faced with:

What must Kirk repent for as a sinner? Can I be bold and say this might be about lying as a sin, perhaps?

Anyway. It is 1.30 am, I need to fight with the writers of this episode and I need to put my creative writing skills to use somewhere else, probably. I hope you enjoyed the mess that lives in my mind and my attempt to coherently collate what was a dozen voice messages sent to my best friends who are sleeping. I should probably sleep too...

[thesunsethour]

if i could re-live one reading experience again it would be finishing the prologue of a storm of swords for the first time, then turning the page and seeing JAIME written. unparalleled

[luocha-lovr]

⌗ of slick and cream。

❛ OR :: how the hsr men get when they're eating pussy.

❛ CONTAINS :: afab! reader; no fem pronouns used but feminine pet names and genitalia are used. food play; usage of whipped cream. oral sex; they eat your pussy out! love that for you. cum play; eating his own cum. MINORS DNI but if you're a minor and choose to read anyway, that's on you.

GEPARD 杰帕德 - from behind. food play.

It's known among most people of Belobog that the Captain of the Silvermane Guards has an aversion for sweets. The man maintains a strict diet to maintain his form, always on the lookout for any more danger since the Trailblazers left Jarilo-VI— that meant sugar was out of the deal. It's a lot easier for him to deal with since he dislikes sweets so much.

Somehow, however, he finds himself overindulging in it today.

"Aeons, love," he groans, the rasp in his voice making your pussy wetter, warmer for him to feast on and enjoy. "Such a sweet girl. So wet and sweet."

With the way he tugs you closer by the hips, his nose right between those cheeks and his mouth working overtime to not let a single drop of your slick go to waste, it almost feels like you're the one celebrating their birthday instead of him. Just hearing him slurp you up like that, large calloused hands parting your ass cheeks to give him the best view of you possible— the man was only doing what you asked; to claim his birthday present.

Even better was the globs of cold whipped cream atop each cheek, decorating your little body with even more sweetness. The cream's all but melted now, and Gepard takes a small break just to bite on the flesh of your ass, making sure not to miss the cream.

"Baby," you gasp quietly, your sopping cunt given a moment to relax as he fixates himself on your ass for the time being. There's a certain thrill to being unable to see him as he eats you out like this. Maybe next time you could ask him to tie you up. A subtle whine is clear in the way you call his name that Gepard could never say no to, and he lifts his head to meet your eyes, finding that you were looking back at him.

Your gaze shifts to the bedside table and his gaze follows suit. There sits a can of whipped cream— and though the thought of so much sugar appalls him, it's almost as if his body was in autopilot. Before you know it, there's a cold sensation on your folds and the sound of cream spraying fills your ears. Gepard could hardly believe the sight in front of him.

How is your cunt so slick? Did he do that to you? It's the hottest thing in the world, to see you decorated like this. All he knew at this moment was that this pussy is all for him, so there was no way he was gonna be stingy with that cream.

ARGENTI 银枝 - body worship. implied chubby reader.

What's a Knight of Beauty to do when faced with beauty so unparalleled that he's brought to his knees?

Argenti's devotion to The Beauty has led him to travel from planet to planet in search of the goddess he so loved. Who would have thought a night in Penacony would lead his faith to waver?

Being able to see such features up close is a blessing he'd never gotten to experience with Idrila. The Aeon was gone, after all, and not even he knows how long he's been searching for her— and perhaps such time searching for someone who does not wish to be found is time wasted.

His gaze is almost feverish, cheeks scarlet as his hair at the sight of the wetness between your legs. Each thigh, so pudgy and soft, is supported by his hands as he keeps you steady. By no means did you tower over him— but that's only when both of you are standing. With him on his knees like this, all devotion to Idrila becomes nearly nonexistent.

"You sure are taking your time down there," you tease him, and Argenti swears he's never leaving Penacony at this rate. Your voice was seductive back at the club, but the intimacy of a private hotel suite brings out a more sultry tone in you, making his mouth water.

His hands and lips wander, up and up until he's reached your inner thighs where his greatest prize lies. "Beauty is meant to be appreciated with great care, not to be handled with impatience, my rose," he quips in return. You could see his eyes sparkle under the golden lights, and he continues with the heat of his breath just inches away, "May I?"

A nod from you and he's licking a stripe up your cunt, moist from anticipation. The shiver that runs down your spine is familiar yet new all the same, for not many men have treated you with such careful caresses. Your fingers find purchase on his vermilion locks as he eats you out, slowly, intimately, as if to tell you that it's you who he's now devoted to.

"Goodness," he all but chuckles when you tug on his hair. Perhaps this is where his voyage among the stars has been leading him all along. One swift movement is all he needs, and now your leg is hoisted upon his shoulder, providing him a better view and taste of you.

The only thing a man should do with beauty that brings him down to his knees should be to worship and praise, Argenti supposes, and that's a promise for future encounters with you.

LUOCHA 罗刹 - cum eating. non-canon event. implied unprotected sex.

For a wandering merchant such as Luocha, there was no such thing as home, no such thing as permanence. Each world offers different things, different people that coax him to stay, though with little to no success. There were items interesting enough to sell, but never enough to make him never want to leave again.

Settling down has never crossed the mind of a merchant such as he who has yet to see more of the stars, but the closest thing to a home he had was the first person to welcome him upon stepping inside the Astral Express. To be precise, it was between your thighs where he felt he was most at home.

"We've to get this all out, don't we, my love?" he asks in a mirthful chuckle, the sight of your sopping cunt dripping with his cum completely mesmerizing him. Your shaky breath and quivering legs, the sheen of sweat on your thighs—

Just how do you expect him to hold back when his love has finally returned from their expedition?

Each drag of his fingers against your walls is agonizingly slow, almost teasing as if to coax another orgasm out of you after you'd just had one nearly five seconds ago. The globs of cum that come pouring out of you is a sight that gets him going again, but he holds back knowing you're sore. One day, though, perhaps he'd like to test out how much Himeko and Pom-pom have soundproofed the Express' rooms.

In a matter of seconds, Luocha's sure he's scooped out most of his cum from you, creating a little puddle on the bed as you pant before him. Pregnancy was likely, but he wasn't unprepared for it. With what he supposes is a final gesture, a final pump of his fingers inside you, he manages to coax another moan out of those pretty lips.

"Luo," you whine, the discomfort clear in the wrinkle of your brows. Perhaps he'd gone too hard. The man only chuckles, unapologetic as he brings his fingers to his mouth for a quick taste of both you and him. He leans down, muttering comforting mantras of I know, baby and gentle shushing.

He wastes no time, leaving gentle kisses on your soaked pussy. Such a pretty little thing, he can't help but run his tongue across the mixture of both his cum and yours. A taste so appetizing he can't help but get drunk on it. Each time you try to wiggle away, he only pulls you closer— and you take it anyway; those loving kisses, soothing licks, and the lingering caresses of a man who's been gone for too long.

Luocha likes that, likes that you take him so well, likes that your pussy gushes with each flick of his tongue on your clit. He missed you, and you missed him, so it's unlikely he'll be stopping anytime soon.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ISH's notes ::

📌 i wrote this at work thinking i wanted a man to eat me out under my table while i was doing paperwork. maybe i'll write abt that next time. 💀

📌 working on a taglist so just hmu if you wanna be tagged. looking for moots to support each other too im BEGGING.

ish | 2024. no plagiarizing, reworking, or reposting this work on other sites.

[seishihoe]

ZzzZzzzzzzzZz - falling asleep during the act feat. my JJK faves.

- headcanons feat. gojo, geto, nanami, mahito & choso x fem!reader

**MINORS DNI: 18+ INTERACTIONS ONLY - you will be blocked**

c/w: SMUT, (consensual) somnophilia (duh), dubcon/passing out (mahito/geto), ROUGH SEX (mahito; he comes with his own warning tbh), praise, pet names, oral (f!receiving), penetration, multiple orgasms/implied overstimulation, squirting, tiny bit of daddy kink (gojo), cream pie, mating press

a/n: BACK FROM THE DEAD! some headcanons i wrote a lil rushed but starting to branch out into jjk so watch this space for more! beta read and with approval by the loml @tkagayamass

gojo “my girl getting sleepy?” his voice murmurs in your ear as all you can manage back is a feeble nod. what you don't expect is for him to pick up the pace, hips hammering faster against you as he’s determined to feel you clench around him again. yes, with gojo, it can last hours. who can blame you for beginning to drift off? now on your sides, your back clasped to his chest as he ruts up into you. “don’t have to do anything princess”. exhausted, spent and ruined long ago, he finally notices you beginning to reach your limit. he may fuck like a blue-eyed demon but gojo’s not cruel….. just determined. all that repeats in his mind is “one more.” it’s the soft kiss he plants on your cheek that makes you melt in his arms and you will yourself to stay awake at the sound of the next words out of his mouth.

“just know you can give daddy one more.”

that’ll do it. geto geto always enjoys caging you in against the bed with his big frame, his intimidating figure assuring him that you're not going anywhere anytime soon... as well as allowing him to intently watch all exquisite faces you make on the end of his cock. “t-too much,” you manage to whimper out, only to be met with a chiding huff of a laugh. too easy.

he licks a stripe up your neck as you whimper again, a dizzying arousing purr of “so weak” as he pushes your legs to your chest; the small spot of mercy you thought he had reserved for you gone. your next orgasm has you screaming out, gushing around his thick cock so hard it makes him proud. your vision blurs as your finally black out, surrendering completely to him.

you don’t know how long it takes to him to finish this time. only waking up again to his head nestled between your thighs; cleaning you up in his favourite way

nanami nanami more than anyone understands a long, hard day. he’s more than happy to indulge in whatever will make you feel better - bonus if that involves using himself to see out the rest of the stress still lingering from a dismal day of work. 

when you're in bed with nanami, nothing else in the world matters. only you. his attention to your body, facial expression, the sounds that leave your drooling mouth is unparalleled; he’s focused only on you. so when he notices the way your eyelids droop, his thrusts falter, a gentle palm cupping your cheek as he muses over you. “my love, you’ve had enough for now.”

he pulls out of you gently, shushing as you let out soft whines of protest. watching him paint his seed all over the folds of your pussy is the last image before you finally drift off to a peaceful slumber. mahito we all know that ever since mahito learned what sex is (i blame geto) it quickly became his most favourite game with his favourite human. another way to experiment…

he loves it. it reminds him of what you truly are - just a fragile, little human. his plaything. pushing your limits in most delicious ways until your legs shake and your pussy gushes gorgeously all over him and the sheets. his only goal pure pleasure and leaving you a complete wreck. he doesn’t care if it hurts, if it’s too much or especially if you’re completely exhausted.

honestly? it really isn’t that unusual for any intimate moment ending in you passing out with mahito. your pleads of “enough” fall on deaf ears, giggling as he forces your head further into the bed, propping your ass up further for him to take you. “but doesn’t it just feel so good?” and it does. so you give in every time, falling limp against the sheets, letting mahito have his fun.

sometimes shoots his load on your face when you’re asleep

choso oh sweet, soft, pussy-whipped choso. no matter how late it is, I truly believe this man can’t sleep without at least tasting you. choso kamo practically gasps with with each roll of his tongue against your clit, completely entranced by your taste. every suck, flick and lick is laced with love. the problem is, he just doesn’t know when to stop. spurred on by incessant need to have you come undone again and again. your whines raising an octave higher and higher after the third, fourth, FIFTH orgasm. after a while he notices the way your eyes begin to flutter shut softly, exhaustion taking over. 

“sleep away, angel.” he murmurs gently from between your legs, “just let me make you feel good, yeah?”

and so with a shaky, shy nod - you let him. relaxed into the sheets, closing your eyes as you let choso enjoy himself. waking up over and over from your hazy slumber to the achingly sweet rush of another and another and ANOTHER orgasm. sometimes it's like you don't even wake up, just an endless stream of semi-conscious pleasure as this man drinks in your essence like he's dying of thirst.

don’t worry, he’ll always clean up and make sure you’re all tucked in once he finally gives himself a break. can you tell he's my favourite?

✨ tell me your favourite, feedback/reblogs/asks v appreciated :} ✨

!! DO NOT REPOST!!

[itacats]

Rain of Shadows

FT: Simon x gn!reader

Warnings: Emotional detachment and isolation, Conditioning and dehumanization, Mentions of violence and combat situations, Subtle introspection on trauma and identity, use of code name for reader, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

SUM: You are thrust into an unfamiliar world filled with new faces and unspoken challenges. As you navigate the tension between duty and something deeper, questions begin to surface—about loyalty, purpose, and the bonds that tie people together. Change is in the air, but whether it’s for better or worse remains uncertain.

A/N: This story is my attempt to blend introspection with action, exploring the psyche of someone forged into a tool but yearning for something more. Rain’s journey is both literal and metaphorical, as they navigate the challenges of missions and emotions alike. Also, writing Soap's quips was dangerously fun, and if you can imagine his voice while reading, you deserve a biscuit. 🌧️🪖

Rain of Shadows Masterlist

Part 1 - A New Assignment

A familiar coldness curls around your heart, a constant presence you’ve carried for as long as you can remember. It doesn’t stab or ache—it suffocates, a frost that numbs the shards of longing you don’t fully understand. What is there to long for when you’ve been raised to forget?

Your earliest memories are a patchwork of harsh fluorescent lights, echoing orders, and the sterile tang of disinfectant. The concept of a childhood is as foreign to you as warmth or family. Those luxuries were stripped away before you could form an attachment, replaced with a relentless regimen of drills and exercises designed to carve you into something beyond human. A weapon. Efficient, unyielding, and devoid of unnecessary emotion.

And yet, in the quiet spaces between missions, that hollow ache lingers. It’s not enough to distract you—distraction is a failure in your line of work—but it gnaws at the edges of your purpose, whispering of something missing.

Your code name is Rain—chosen with precision by those who forged you. Fluid, relentless, unobtrusive. Like the rain, you move quietly, leaving destruction in your wake. But unlike the rain, you bring no renewal.

The sky above the training grounds burns with the last remnants of sunlight, the horizon painted in bruised hues of purple and gold. Shadows creep over the facility, deep and sprawling, mirroring the ones within you. The whispers of your handlers cut through the stillness, sharp and deliberate, carrying the weight of yet another mission.

This one feels different.

Task Force 141.

The name carries an air of infamy, even among the circles you operated in. Their reputation is sterling, their methods unorthodox, their success rate unparalleled. They are a unit forged in battle, bonded not just by skill but by a camaraderie you can’t begin to comprehend. And now, your handlers have decided to throw you into their ranks.

It’s not the first time they’ve embedded you with other operatives, but there’s an unfamiliar edge to their instructions this time—a hesitation, perhaps, or an unspoken expectation. You don’t bother speculating. It isn’t your place to ask questions, only to obey.

Captain John Price stands at the forefront as you approach, his silhouette backlit by the fading sun. He doesn’t move like a man weighed down by rank or responsibility. Instead, he carries himself with an ease that speaks of experience, of surviving where others didn’t.

His face is lined, weathered by years of battle, but his eyes remain sharp, assessing you with the precision of a tactician. You’re used to being appraised, but Price’s gaze feels different—not cold or clinical, but weighted, as if he’s not just measuring your skill but your soul.

“This is Rain,” Price announces, his voice steady and commanding. “They’ll be working with us from now on. I expect you to show them the ropes—and learn a thing or two in return.”

There’s no fanfare, no embellishment in his tone. It’s clear that, to him, you’re a soldier, not an experiment. The thought is… unusual. Unsettling.

Before you can dwell on it, another figure steps forward, breaking the tension with a grin as wide as the horizon.

“Show ‘em the ropes?” says Soap—John MacTavish, his Scottish accent curling around the words. “I was thinkin’ more like throwing ‘em in the deep end. Sink or swim, eh?”

Soap radiates energy, his mischievous expression framed by a mess of auburn hair. He doesn’t seem to view you as a threat—or if he does, it’s in the way one warrior sizes up another before a friendly spar.

Beside him stands Gaz—Kyle Garrick, his posture more subdued but no less confident. His dark eyes sweep over you, assessing with quiet intensity. “Don’t underestimate them just because they’re new,” he says, his tone measured but edged with a subtle challenge. “You might be the one sinking.”

The banter feels alien to you. Familiarity between teammates is not something you’ve been taught to expect—or value. Among the operatives you’ve worked with before, loyalty was transactional, fleeting. Here, it feels… genuine.

And then there’s Ghost–Simon Riley.

He stands apart, a silent monolith in the gathering shadows. The skull-patterned balaclava he wears is stark against his dark uniform, lending him an air of menace that seems almost deliberate. His posture is relaxed, but his presence is anything but.

Simon doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, but you feel his eyes on you, cold and unyielding. Unlike Soap’s teasing or Gaz’s quiet scrutiny, Simon’s gaze feels like a scalpel, peeling back layers to expose what lies beneath. It’s unsettling, but not unfamiliar.

You’ve been watched your entire life—studied, measured, judged. And yet, Simon’s scrutiny feels different. It’s not clinical or calculating. It’s… human, somehow.

As Price continues to speak, laying out expectations and protocols, you find yourself glancing between the men who will now be your teammates. They laugh and rib each other with a warmth that feels out of place in the world you know. You wonder, briefly, what binds them together. Shared experience? Mutual respect?

When Price mentions camaraderie, the word catches in your mind like a thorn. You’ve read about it, observed it in others, but never felt it yourself. It’s a bond that doesn’t fit into the cold, efficient world you inhabit.

Soap nudges Gaz with his elbow, whispering something you can’t quite make out, and the two share a quiet chuckle. Simon doesn’t join in, but there’s a subtle shift in his posture, a tilt of his head that suggests he’s listening. Even in their silence, there’s an understanding between them that you can’t begin to fathom.

For the first time in years, a flicker of doubt worms its way into your mind. These men are not like your handlers, nor like the operatives you’ve been paired with before. They don’t see you as a tool to be wielded, a weapon to be pointed at a target.

You don’t know what they see.

The thought lingers as the sun disappears completely, leaving you standing in the growing darkness with strangers who might one day call you their own.

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