#classification: spirit

[flowers-in-the-wasteland]

Character Profile: Kuro Kiryu

Character Inspiration: Erstwhile Vagabond

Classification: Incense Spirit

Biography:

Normally, Kuro travels the island while using his gifts to mark corrupted people with the strong smell of incense so that they can be easily detected, even before Beast traits show. His goal is purely to help others and provide protection even while the island devolves into chaos. He enjoys taking in the sights during his travels.

Relationships:

Kanata: Since Kuro is still a Spirit, he has to be careful that his presence doesn't get snuffed out by the wasteland, so when the growth suddenly spiked, he opted to stay a bit longer at the Water Pools. Kanata insists that he stays to hang out as long as he wants.

Chiaki: While Chiaki isn't the first human that's been able to see him, he is the first to see so clearly. The two get along well, even if Chiaki remains somewhat jumpy. Kanata frequently washes the smell of incense off of Chiaki because of Kuro's favor.

Madara: He's already marked Madara with incense, and even checks in every now and then to see if he's really gotten rid of his corruption, but he can still sense it. He almost feels bad, but can see that he's just not getting better.

Kuro has traveled across and seen much of the island. The people he's seen, even if they couldn't see him, have affected him in many ways. He remembers two in particular, and wonders how they're doing. He didn't see them again on his way back to the coast.

[thefadecodex]

As discussed in the Theory of Spirit Complexity, spirits can evolve into more complex forms through direct interaction with the physical world or by observing and mirroring these interactions within the Fade. This concept builds upon and expands ideas introduced in the Spiritual Alignment Classification System and When Purpose Falters.

This creator is theorizing based on the lore that there are multiple, flexible pathways to purpose (or corruption) and evolution for spirits. An example of this train of thought is below:

In previous games and established lore, our understanding of spirits' purpose and corruption remains limited, often resulting in rigid assumptions about how corruption manifests. 

For example:

When Justice merged with Anders, he transformed into Vengeance, reinforcing the belief that a Spirit of Justice, when corrupted, must inevitably become a Spirit of Vengeance. (side note from the creator: I suspect this might be linked to the Blight present in Anders, which is discussed further down)

This narrow perspective overlooks the potential nuances and variability in how spirits might experience corruption or transformation. 

Instead, let’s look at other forms that a Spirit of Justice could possible become if it is corrupted: 

What determines what a spirit will be corrupted into? The creator of The Fade Codex theorizes that it is based on the situation that put the spirit against it’s original purpose. Going with the example above of Justice being corrupted:

Fear: A Spirit of Justice becomes so afraid of failure or further injustices it can become paralyzed or overly reactive.

Despair: A Spirit of Justice witnessing endless cycles of injustice and failure to make meaningful change.

Vengeance: A Spirit of Justice becomes consumed with frustration and anger leading an overwhelming desire to punish rather than balance.

Tyranny: A Spirit of Justice becomes obsessed with enforcing order and fairness to an extreme that it suppresses freedom and choice.

Passivity: A Spirit of Justice becomes overwhelmed by the scale of injustice or believes that intervention will always lead to unintended harm, leading to inaction.

Case Study: The Blight Within – Justice and Anders

Subject: The Spirit of Justice

Host: Anders, Grey Warden and Apostate Mage

Corrupting Influence: The Blight (disembodied rage of the Titans)

Background: Justice, a Fade spirit inhabiting the corpse of Grey Warden Kristoff, merged with Anders, a Grey Warden mage consumed by anger at the oppression of mages. Anders’ Blight-tainted blood, carrying the Titans' disembodied rage, began corrupting Justice's purpose.

Observation: Initially driven by balance and fairness, Justice was twisted by the Blight's primal fury and Anders’ deeply personal anger regarding the treatment of mages. The Blight amplified Justice’s purpose into something violent and unyielding, warping it into Vengeance—a spirit driven by rage, punishment, and destruction rather than resolution.

Case Study: Manfred

The same line of reasoning can be applied to Manfred, a Spirit of Curiosity inhabiting a skeleton. However, Manfred's case differs significantly from Anders and Justice or Wynne and Faith, as the skeleton he occupies lacks a pre-existing soul.  

Emmrich observes that Manfred is actively learning, with his progress accelerating after leaving the Grand Necropolis, where his growth had been gradual.

Emmrich notes Manfred's increasing engagement in various behaviors and his eventual ability to speak, albeit very rudimentary. Additionally, Winter Wise (@winter-wise) highlights that Manfred seems to be mimicking Emmrich's actions, suggesting that his learning is not purely instinctive but shaped by observation and imitation.

Manfred has a stick he likes to point around - Emmrich uses a staff Manfred walked into a rose bush - Emmrich loves flowers Manfred likes to collect shiny things, including gilded things - Emmrich wears a lot of gold

This suggests that Manfred is actively learning and evolving.  

Several codex entries reflect Emmrich's ongoing contemplation of spirit consciousness. In 'The Dawn of Consciousness,' he questions when wisps begin to change, pondering "which can name its own interests…[and] own self-reflection." 

In another entry, ‘Emmrich: Note to Harding on Souls,’ he defines a soul as "the richly numinous force within every living being… and a spirit as an entity formed entirely in the Fade from raw magic." We receive this codex immediately upon recruiting Emmrich, so it does predates Solas's revelation about his transition from a spirit in the Fade to a physical form

This implies that spirits and souls may not be as fundamentally different as once believed, hinting at a shared essence that bridges the Fade and the physical world.

What, then, is Manfred evolving into? Will he become a “person” as defined by the majority of Thedas? Or is he developing into a more complex spirit, perhaps transitioning from a Spirit of Curiosity into something like a Spirit of Learning? 

The creator of The Fade Codex leans toward Solas's perspective—that spirits can be considered "persons," regardless of whether they possess a physical body or not. However, at this stage, the answer remains uncertain.

[imthepunchlord]

If AtLA did get that season 4 the writers wanted, I kinda wonder if they would've revealed the origins of the Avatar and what they would've done; as LoK's take on the spirits and the origins of the Avatar and bending felt disconnected from what AtLA previously set up (at least for me).

As I never got the original show's answer, it led to me pondering it and I had a thought I felt makes more sense.

Based on AtLA and how spirits were, I thought that the Avatar originally started as a powerful spirit that was tied to nature, and had a fondness for humanity and how they connected to nature, strong enough that they developed bending. And similar to La and Tui, they mortalized themselves in human form to be amongst other humans, only they had the unique ability to bend all four elements.

And between being a powerful spirit that's tied to people and the four elements, and the devotion to be there for people, the Avatar Cycle just came to be upon the first death and the first birth, this spirit always becoming reborn in a new elemental nation, to grow up amongst the people it naturally cared for, having a new life to live, to have new experiences, and forming new friendships while also finding old friendships that will last lifetimes. And given the spiritual origins, can also work off the unique role the Avatar has between the spirit realm and the material realm.

I feel this thought makes more sense for the origins of Avatar and working more off AtLA's set up of spirits and the origins of bending.

And while I would vote the actual spirit be left a mystery, IF it had to be specified on what it was, I probably would've voted they were a lion turtle. Like, even in AtLA, they're set up as incredibly mystical and spiritual, and able to manipulate energy itself, and I think the creators even had the idea that people used to live on their backs before LoK confirmed it, confirming they did have a close connection to people.

Everything about them is kinda set up to be like, a precursor to the Avatar. Mindful, it's not a requirement, but that could be a potential reason why the lion turtle arose to help Aang in his time of need, how they sensed Aang was lost and in need of guidance and advise, the Avatar potentially was the soul of a lion turtle, and playing off the lion aspect, they are sociable and work as a team.

It's not a stretch to think a spirit tied to lions are open to helping another.

Either way, this is a thought I wanted to share as an alternative to LoK's answer for the Avatar origins as I just wasn't all that crazy about it.

[blood-orange-juice]

Spicy take: I'm starting to think that the concept of "trickster" is about just as meaningful as the concept of Hero's Journey.

Sure, you can fit a lot of stories into it and some were written with that specific archetype in mind but also it conflates Joker, Odysseus, Br'er Rabit and Slavic folktales protagonists and I don't think these should belong in the same category.

Boundary crossing can be done for many reasons and in many ways. The need to lump all such characters into a single category says more about our over-reliance on rigid structures, the lack of play in our culture and a desperate need for something else.

[historyhermann]

Myne, books, and fictional libraries: Examining three official fanbooks

An excerpt from page 33 of the first fanbook, showing part of the temple diagram. Note the “book room” shown here in this diagram. To give some background, on August 26, 2020, I first mentioned Ascendance of a Bookworm on this blog, followed by a substantive post three days later, on August 29, 2020, entitled “Myne the ‘bookworm’ librarian and the Nippon Decimal Classification System.” Since…

[ph-cutie]

rethinking my position i think laios could easily be asexual. theres been a movement on here to push back against uh infantilization by claiming laios as turbo sexhaver nine hundred and sure but i think mayhaps hes a grown man whos just got other things going on

[aroarachnid]

should I watch supernatural like ive heard things but how bad is it

[allengreenfield]

EVP Classification: Are Your Spirit Voices 'Class A?' | Higgypop Paranormal

[rightnewshindi]

सुप्रीम कोर्ट का फैसला संविधान में निहित आरक्षण की मूल भावना के खिलाफ, एससी-एसटी के वर्गीकरण पर भड़के प्रकाश अंबेडकर

SC sub-classification SC Ruling: संविधान निर्माता डॉ. भीमराव अंबेडकर के पोते और वंचित बहुजन अघाड़ी (वीबीए) के अध्यक्ष प्रकाश अंबेडकर ने सुप्रीम कोर्ट की सात जजों की संविधान पीठ के उस फैसले की आलोचना की है, जिसमें राज्यों को अनुसूचित जाति/अनुसूचित जनजाति (एससी/एसटी) का उप-वर्गीकरण करने की अनुमति देने का फैसला किया गया है। कोर्ट ने कहा है कि आरक्षण की एकरूपता के लिए एससी/एसटी कोटे के भीतर वंचित…

[bourbontrend]

Ever wondered about the story behind Jack Daniel's and its legendary allure? Dive into the heart of Tennessee whiskey, uncover the mysteries, and explore what sets it apart from bourbon. Toast to tradition and savor every sip of this iconic spirit. #TennesseeWhiskey #JackDaniels #UnveilTheEnigma 🥃🤠

[cultkinkcoven]

Things for beginners to know before starting demonolatry or demonology practices

1. The classifications of demons were written by humans, not demons.

Different occult schools of thought will have different understandings of the Hierarchies of Hell, whether Hell even exists, and what attributes are associated with each demon. In some sects Lucifer reigns supreme Emperor of Hell, in others it is Sammael, Moloch, or Baal. It all depends on the perspective of the practitioner. All of these models are equally correct and incorrect. Documentation of de(a)mons were often written by right hand practitioners who saw them as evil, therefore their negative attitudes are emphasized. Other times devotees have documented the same entity as being very kind and affectionate. It is incredibly important to take into account who is speaking whenever you read about demons. No single book or author can deliver to you the most **objective** facts about these demons or the model of reality, if they claim to, they’re lying to you. You as the practitioner must discover and decide what reins true in your reality. Teachers and gurus may influence you but ultimately you must make the decision for yourself.

2. Assume all spirits are multi dimensional

Lucifer, the light bringer, is also the spirit of darkness. He is the sweet prince and the adversary, he is a devil and an angel. It is extremely rare that you will encounter a spirit that is only one thing. There is a little bit of truth to everyone’s interactions. To a Luciferian, Lucifer is a guide, a companion, and a positive presence. To a Christian he is an adversary, a tempter, liar and bringer of evil ; and there is an entire rainbow of other experiences that contribute to the understanding of “Lucifer”. Demons are not all good nor are they all bad, trying to paint them in only one light will only lead to disappointment and confusion. It is just as foolish to assume that a so called angel will always be pleasant and nice, as it is to assume a so called demon will be terrible and mean. Every energy interacts with every person uniquely.

3. Scary and intimidating doesn’t automatically mean “evil”

Nice and pleasing doesn’t automatically mean “good”

If you’re interacting with demons or spirits associated with death, it shouldn’t be very surprising that they’re dark, mysterious, or have a frightening appearance. If you’re dealing with demons or spirits of sex and lust, it shouldn’t be very surprising that they’re alluring, attractive, or beautiful. This doesn’t mean that the scary demon is going to kill you, and this doesn’t mean that the sexy demon is going to fuck you. There are very likely going to be times when your demons will scare you. This doesn’t mean that they’re going to hurt you or possess you (they shouldn’t be frightening you to the point of constant paranoia, but seeing some “disturbing” or strange imagery isn’t out of the norm when you’re contacting a de(a)mon).

If you enter a deep dark cave looking for a bear, don’t be surprised when you see sharp teeth. Demons of violence may summon gory imagery. Demons of death my feel cold and distant. A large part of demonolatry is understanding your fear and overcoming it.

4. Yeah, it’s intense.

Okay. This is hard for me to explain. Infernal spirits and angels alike are entities that force you to confront your innermost self and change. It’s not always spooky and scary and whimsical. Sometimes it’s losing your dead end job, having a serious breakup, losing toxic friends, or having a personal epiphany. When I say it’s intense, I don’t mean that I’m levitating and seeing gnarly gory shit and summoning demons while covered in blood all the time. I have dreams and experiences of course, but seeing a demon work is not about the theatrics. Are you ready to confront the things you rrrrreeaaaaalllly don’t want to think about? Your trauma, the lies you tell yourself to get through the day, and the toxic cycles you comfort yourself with?

Lord Lucifer has made me cry many MANY times. But it was never because he hurt or scared me. I’ve seen many demonolaters refer to Lucifer as a therapist and I couldn’t agree more. He not only changes your understanding of yourself, but others and the world. Through this understanding you can change yourself, and others, and the world.

5. You as the practitioner need to be able to withstand the symptoms of your demonic relationships

Being in a relationship with Lilith or Asmoday is not an excuse to develop a porn addiction. Being in a relationship with Lucifer does not give you the right to psychoanalyze all of your friends, being in a relationship with Eligos is not an excuse to destroy all of your relationships or be cruel towards others. Demons represent energies and concepts that are unfavourable to the masses. When working with Astaroth I will feel more lustful, just by being in her proximity. That is not justification to cheat on my partner or force myself onto him. As much as demons like Lucifer for example can inspire us to be wise and sharp, he can also influence us to be vein and narcissistic. We must always be aware of these effects and resist them, working with demons and shadows does not mean becoming the worst version of ourselves, quite the contrary. Interacting with these negative aspects is meant to show you how to overcome them.

6. Demons cannot and will not replace your relationships with humans

I am very pro godspousing and having friendly and affectionate relationships with demons and spirits. Having said that, as much as our spirits may love us and care for us, they will not be the ones to text you good morning. They will not make you soup when you’re sick, or buy you flowers after a hard day. Demons are guides and companions, but they are not people. Trying to use demons to solve your loneliness will only lead to heart ache. You very much can have a sincere relationship with a demon or other spirit, but be aware that that relationship will not mimic your relationships with humans, and it shouldn’t. Gods and demons are not humans, therefore your relationships with them will not feel human.

7. There’s always more to learn

Devotion to any spirit is an endeavour that can take years or even a lifetime. Your work is not done because you read 3 books and browsed the Occult Wiki for an hour and a half. Become very dedicated to learning about your demons of interest and the culture that surrounds them. Yes, this means boring, tedious research.

8. No, ______ is not mad at you. Please talk to them

You will at some point inevitably do something wrong, especially if you are freshly initiated. Demons understand that we are human, we make mistakes. Instead of becoming paranoid and avoiding your demon out of fear of consequences, put on your big boy pants and confront them directly. Understand what you did wrong and learn from your mistake. There may or may not be consequences, every demon is different. But making yourself sick thinking they’re going to smite you down doesn’t make anything better. I guarantee you that talking to them about it will serve you a million times better than running away.

9. You need to know your boundaries BEFORE you reach out

As important as it is to research your demons, it is equally important to research yourself. You need to have strict boundaries that you will not negotiate. These boundaries should be outlined in your contract if you have one. If blood magic is uncomfortable for you, don’t allow any demon or spirit to coerce you into giving it until you are ready. If you’re a minor you’re more than allowed to not do sex magic. This relationship belongs to you as much as it does your demon(s). If it doesn’t serve you, simply refuse it.

10. On that note, demons can and will reject you. You can and will reject them as well.

On many occasions I have approached spirits who did not want to work with me at the moment. Sometimes they end up showing up later in my life, other times they never do. Oftentimes this is because of an incongruency on an alchemical level, we just aren’t meant for each other. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re doing anything wrong. Sometimes you are, but your demon or deity will usually make that clear to you in some way. Don’t force it. If I’m already terribly preoccupied with life or other spiritual relationships, I’m within my right to reject another demon trying to enter my circle. That isn’t a rude thing to do. I’m within my right to deny a ritual I don’t have the energy or resources for. We can put it on the back burner for now.

Likewise, if a demon or spirit is repeatedly overstepping my boundaries or harming me in any way, I can (and should) leave that demon. If I’m not doing enough or causing insult, that demon can leave me. As binding as devotional contracts can be, we are not trapped with each other if we choose not to be.

11. Protection shouldn’t only be against spirits. Be very aware of your surroundings and the people around you

Learn the power of secrecy. As a Luciferian living in an extremely conservative area, I have to be extremely careful about when my pendants are visible. I have to be careful when entering certain places because I don’t want to be hate crimed or harassed. Yes, being out and proud of my demonic relationships is very important to me, but it is not worth risking real danger from bigots, or risking my employment. When I go to work, I have to leave my Lucifer ring at home, not because my work is discriminatory, but because I don’t know when I’m speaking to a christofascist grandma who would make a complaint to my boss because she saw my devotional ring. I don’t know which of my coworkers would make my life more difficult if they knew about my practice. If you are visible, people will approach you and make comments. Now, there are those of us who don’t give a fuck, and on most days I don’t. But for those of us who are vulnerable to that kind of discrimination, please be aware.

12. Self mutilation is not demonolatry

If you choose to offer blood it should be no more than a few drops. You should be using safe tools like a lancet, and disinfecting the area you extract from. This should be done in the least harmful manner possible. Devotional markings or tattoos should be done by a professional.

13. This stuff takes time. Relax

These relationships don’t develop in 24 hours. It takes a tremendous amount of repeated effort to gain the favour of a demon or spirit. If you’re not getting the results you want, take a break, reevaluate your methods, and try again later.

[flowers-in-the-wasteland]

Character Profile: Kanata Shinkai

Character Inspiration: Sea of Secrets

Classification: Jellyfish Spirit

Biography:

Kanata has been lingering around the coast for a long time, comparatively old for a Spirit. He's unable to leave the water, so his company is restricted to fish and whatever aquatic Spirits are around. Recently, someone who can see and hear him has been keeping him company, allowing him to have a better time than he's had in years.

Relationships:

Chiaki: When Chiaki arrived at the coast, despairing, Kanata looked after him silently for days. It took a lot of courage before Chiaki began to speak with him, but since there aren't many people around, Kanata was glad to act as Chiaki's company and give whatever gifts he could.

Madara: Kanata was convinced for a long time that Madara could see him. But, rather than sticking around like Chiaki, he left to another end of the pools. He used to be in Kanata's favor and revieved gifts, but they stopped after he stopped returning to the shore.

Kuro: Normally, Kuro would spend very little time in one place, but with a recent huge spike in wasteland growth, he's decided to spend a bit more time by the coast. Kanata is glad to have more company, and enjoys the extra stories.

Kanata knows every aquatic Spirit in the area, so when a new one showed up, he was understandably excited. However, this newcomer has an unusually strong presence, and Kanata has a hard time being around him sometimes, though it's nothing personal.

[thefadecodex]

One of the primary goals of The Fade Codex—at least to its creator—is to move beyond the rigid structure imposed by the Chantry and develop a flexible and nuanced classification system for spirits. Thus, the 'Spirit Alignment' classification system was created.

Spirit Alignment System:

Spirits are categorized based on their core ideals, emotions, or drives, rather than narrow, static definitions.

This approach provides a more adaptable and insightful exploration of their identities, behaviors, and transformations.

Spirit Evolution:

The Spirit Alignment system aims to address the evolution of spirits, showing how they grow from simpler forms into more complex, emotionally driven entities.

Example: Docktown's Spirit of Compassion evolving into Eulogy from In Memoriam in DATV

Now that we understand the goals of The Fade Codex, let’s explore its classification system and see how Spirit Alignment offers a different perspective on these enigmatic entities we call spirits!

Why Classifying Spirits is Helpful

Classifying spirits into 'Spirit Alignment' categories such as learning-based, hope-based, and others provides a structured framework for understanding their nature, purpose, and behavior within both the Fade and Thedas. Spirits are complex entities shaped by emotion, thought, and intention, making them inherently difficult to define. By organizing them into these thematic groups, scholars, mages, and Fade researchers can:

Identify Motivations: Each category highlights the primary drive behind a spirit's actions, whether it's the pursuit of knowledge, the will to survive, or the need to instill hope.

Predict Behavior: Spirits within a category often share behavioral patterns, making it easier to anticipate how they might interact with mortals or other spirits.

Assess Risk and Corruption: Different spirit types have unique vulnerabilities to corruption, and classification helps identify the potential demonic forms they might take.

Guide Interactions: Mages and mortals who deal with spirits can tailor their approaches based on a spirit's category, improving the chances of peaceful or productive interaction.

Preserve Knowledge: Organizing spirits into defined groups helps pass down knowledge more effectively, preventing misunderstandings or misclassifications that could lead to dangerous consequences.

How Spirits are Classified

Spirits are categorized based on their core essence and purpose, which reflects the emotions, ideals, or drives they embody. Each classification represents a fundamental aspect of mortal existence, as spirits themselves are shaped by mortal emotions and thoughts.

These categories are not rigid but serve as a flexible guide, acknowledging that spirits often overlap across multiple classifications depending on the circumstances. For example:

A Spirit of Passion, which is classified in the Spirit Alignment system as a survival-based spirit, it might also overlap with other alignments depending on what fuels its 'passion.'

The Fluid Nature of Spirit Alignment: A Case Study of Spite

Spite as a Spirit of Passion:

In datamined notes from DATV, Spite was originally described as a Spirit of Passion before being later redefined as a Spirit of Determination.

Spite was drawn to Lucanis because of his unwavering will to live.

Over time, Spite evolved into a Spirit of Obsession.

Spirit Alignment Classification:

This connection led the creator of The Fade Codex to classify Spirits of Passion under survival-based spirits.

Fluid Alignment of Passion Spirits:

The alignment of a Spirit of Passion can vary depending on what fuels their passion.

They might align with chaos, love, or strength, depending on their purpose and connection to the mortal they are drawn to.

Case Study: The Evolution of a Spirit – From Compassion to Eulogy

Stage 1: Spirit of Compassion

Purpose: A Spirit of Compassion manifests in Dock Town during a series of demonic murders, offering comfort to the fallen.

Awareness: It senses a connection between the victims, but lacks the knowledge to fully understand it.

Stage 2: Transformation into Eulogy

Catalyst: The repeated loss and a growing awareness of manipulation behind the deaths drive the spirit to evolve into Eulogy.

Purpose: Eulogy vows to remember the dead and protect others from demonic threats, gaining a clearer sense of purpose and identity.

Stage 3: Eulogy’s Role in Dock Town

Action: Eulogy actively protects Dock Town’s residents and seeks to prevent further manipulation.

Analysis of Spirit Evolution

Emotional Catalyst: Exposure to suffering and injustice pushed the Spirit of Compassion to evolve.

Outcome: Eulogy combines its original compassion with a clear mission of protection and remembrance.

Significance: This evolution highlights how spirits can grow from simple embodiments of emotion into complex entities with distinct goals.

Eulogy serves as an example of spirit evolution shaped by emotional resonance and purpose, showing how a spirit can adapt to meet the needs of those it watches over.

[windvexer]

So you're worried about getting into spirit work because you might say the wrong thing and offend the spirits

[[YMMV; this is a UPG post, etc. Other spirit workers are welcome to include their own experiences, suggestions, or cautions :)]]

My take is straightforward. Each step is expanded below.

Do the research you can to understand the kind of spirits you're interacting with. If myth, lore, or folktale gives you rules/guidelines for interaction with that kind of spirit, follow them.

Whether or not you can do that (unknown kind of spirit; limited lore), always behave with your highest level of respect and manners.

If a spirit tells you its preferences or boundaries that contradict with their lore or your manners, prioritize the spirit's preferences.

If you make a mistake that causes offense, apologize and ask for another chance.

If a spirit is going to be an unforgiving vengeful jackass just because you make a mistake, maybe that guy just sucks and you shouldn't work with him.

Do the research

THE RESEARCH IS NOT TO FIGURE OUT IF THE SPIRIT IS 'GOOD' OR 'EVIL'.

The research is to understand if there are any expected acts of courtesy and hospitality when dealing with this category of spirit.

Spirits are not the stupidest guy you've ever met. They are likely to understand if you have taken the time to research appropriate means of hospitality.

It's like googling horse behavior before you go hang out on a farm for the summer. You read a story about how horses can kick. So they're evil?? Evil dangerous??? But also, they can be good friends and people even say they can be helpers... Then which is it? Are horses right-handed path or left-handed path?

The point is to gain a roadmap, if one is available, to understand appropriate behaviors during interaction. Like, don't stand behind the horse!

If you know the classification of spirit you're working with, trying to understand their cultural expectations is a sign of respect and can help you. Every once and a while there might be a really important rule that's outlined in lore, and if that exists, you'd be better off knowing it ahead of time.

Like, idk. Don't agree to a fiddle contest on a crossroads, you know? This is lore you should already have in your back pocket before you go to meet the Devil in Appalachia.

Always behave with highest respect and manners

This doesn't mean groveling, boot-licking, or worship.

Respect spirits as individuals. Do not ignore what they show you about themselves because you only think of them as cookie-cutter lore-clones.

Use manners.

As much as you can, try to think of your spirit encounters as being actual present-moment encounters with real beings.

If you see that your behavior seems to make a spirit withdraw or be uncomfortable, try pausing that behavior. If you see a spirit responds well to certain behavior, try using that more.

If you see that a spirit is getting frustrated with a behavior, do not keep doing it over and over again just because you heard that kind of spirit is supposed to like it.

Importantly, if you do end up accidentally upsetting a spirit you want to be able to say, "I'm sorry that I offended you, my action was meant to be one of respect."

You never want to be stuck saying, "wow, sorry that offended you. I guess I don't know what I was thinking, I just assumed you'd be more chill..."

Spirits are not the stupidest guy you've ever met. They understand if you are making an effort, or not. And making an effort can go a really long way.

In addition, I personally recommend that during spirit contact assume you saw and heard correctly, but don't immediately integrate what you perceived as being proven fact.

If a spirit tells you it's a dragon and you don't believe it, don't keep asking it what it is over and over. Like imagine that from their perspective. "What are you?" "A dragon." "...Can you tell me what you are?" "I'm a dragon." [takes three deep breaths, intense meditative focus] "Spirit, please reveal to me your nature; what might be called type, or species." "D R A G O N" "Can you describe your appearance to me? That would help me understan-- oh, I no longer sense a presence. I guess this was all in my head. I was right to have my doubts."

If you hear silly or nonsense names, are told unbelievable spirit types, or anything, assume you heard correctly. This does not mean you should assume the spirit is being honest or forthcoming, or that your psychism is flawless. Rather, roll with the punches - accept what you experience in the moment, and later on spend effort in discernment, testing ideas before you accept them as truth, fact, or beliefs.

Just don't demand the other person repeat themselves and then tell them to their faces you don't believe them.

If you did hear incorrectly, spirits can take their own steps towards correcting your understanding later on.

Assume spirits are individuals

Imagine making friends with a goth (!!), but you've never interacted with that kind of person before. So you go to WikiHow and read their helpful article, How To Be Friends With A Goth. It says that goths really enjoy listening to The Cure and having a collection of safety pins.

Because you want this relationship to work out, you invite your new goth friend over and put on The Cure.

"Do you mind if we listen to some Manson?" Anastazia asks you. "I'm not really into the older stuff."

You can't believe your hearing has failed you. You zoned out to the point where you actually thought a goth said they did not want to listen to The Cure. How embarrassing. However, you know what Anastazia really wants. Anastazia wants to listen to The Cure.

WikiHow said so.

Apologize and work it out

People worry about 'offending the spirits' as if that's the worst possible thing you could ever do. It is not.

I offend spirits sometimes. This is how it usually goes:

Me: [offensive action] Spirit: "Woah, that sucks. Don't do that, I didn't like it." Me: "Oh dang I'm sorry, I didn't realize it would go down like that. I'll remember how you feel and try to do better." Spirit: "Okay, thanks for not being a jerk about it. I gotta go now, let's talk later."

What's the worst case scenario, that the relationship will be irreparable? IRREPARABLE, because you accidentally said one wrong thing?

If your spirits are making you walk on eggshells, making you terrified to speak up or communicate because saying the wrong thing will make them lash out, give you the silent treatment, or put you in danger...

What would you tell your friend to do, if they were in that kind of relationship? I think you might offer them help to get out and find a new relationship where they are valued and respected.

Putting on my serious hat: If you do believe that spirits are inherently vengeful, heartless, or prone to abusive behaviors like harming you because you made a mistake, I encourage you to consider if spirit work is really a healthy choice for you at this time.

Maybe that guy really isn't just for you, you know?

A lot of people are really worried about saying something wrong. Like spirit work is that Squid Game of glass floors, and if you step on the wrong tile it'll shatter and spirits will drag you straight to hell.

Look - I know what the wrong things to say are. Here's a list to help you avoid stumbling into these pitfalls (not comprehensive):

"Fuck you, I'm God."

"You are now my slave. I bind you, worm. That's what you are to me. A worm."

"Hi, I choose you to be the one who gives me power and teaches me magic. I brought you a pretty rock to live in :) Get inside of it :)"

"Nice to meet you, I'm the new head bitch in charge of this forest. Go tell everyone else who the new boss is."

However if you choose to say the following sorts of things I think you're really playing it safe:

Nice to meet you, I'm really excited to be reaching out and I hope we can be friends.

I'm hoping to find a helper or a familiar who wants to be a part of my practice. Do you think that could be you?

I'm surprised that you take the appearance I associate with a European being, but we're in Idaho. Would it be correct to call you a Kelpie?

Thanks for joining me when I called out, but as it turns out your energy is way too intense for me. Is it possible for you to hold back your radiance? Otherwise I think we need to part ways.

I really can't Hear you at all, so would it be okay if I just gave you a nickname?

Nonetheless, if a guy does get really offended and demands that you self-flagellate to soothe his temper, then maybe he kind of just sucks and you shouldn't spend any more time with him.

You can be the nicest and most respectful person of all time, and some spirits will just never be happy.

If you think certain spirits are likely to be easily offended, don't reach out to them.

If you think all spirits are likely to be easily offended, that is another problem altogether.

If you don't know where to start, the following kinds of guys are often quite patient and easy to get along with:

Domesticated trees

Culinary or medicinal plant species (poisonous plants excluded)

Streams, lakes (rivers... maybe not so much, IME)

Clouds, rainbows, light rain

Breezes, joyful gusting winds

Fish

Air, atmosphere

Salt

Learn sorcerous skills to back you up during spirit work, behave with common sense and respect, and take your time getting to know new spirits. And I think you'll be okay.

[gloamysnail]

Study Break

hello, hello~

this is my first fic for jjk, of course it's smut, of course it's suguru.

i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing.

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

summary: suguru invites you to his dorm to study. nothing unusual about that. until you can't seem to stop fixating on his hands playing with his pen, his arms with those rolled up sleeves, his thigh pressed against yours...

alternative summary: shameless, plotless smut wherein suguru geto rails you senseless while being infuriatingly calm about it.

word count: 5300

content warning: explicit, smut, mdni, 18+ ONLY, plotless, teasing, softdom, fem reader, reader insert

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

It wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t.

You were just in Suguru Geto’s dorm on a Tuesday night going over cursed spirit classification, because apparently you had to re-read chapter six three times while he had already internalized the material with supernatural grace - the same as everything else he ever did. That was it. That’s all this was.

So what if he’d pushed the door open with that soft little “come in” smile and held it open just enough for your shoulder to have to brush his chest as you squeezed inside past him? So what if he had the sleeves of his white button-up rolled up to his elbows like he knew exactly what that did to you?

It was fine. You were fine. This was fine.

You sat on the floor with your notebook. He sprawled out right next to you, propped up on one arm, hair tied back in a low, lazy knot while he picked apart your poor study habits in that infuriatingly kind way he had where he asked questions only he knew the answer to because you were too distracted to focus on your reading material and he knew it.

You weren’t looking at him.

Absolutely not.

You were reading.

Trying to.

Until his voice cut through the silence.

“So…” He said, tapping a finger to the margin of your textbook above a handful of diagrams. “Which one of these is the semi-grade, again?”

You squinted at the page, as if it would somehow jar you out of thinking about Suguru Geto's fingers and help you focus on grasping a firmer understanding of things that could actually kill you. “The one with the twisted limbs?”

“Mm.” He leaned closer. “You sure?”

His thigh pressed lightly against yours.

You absolutely were not sure.

“…Yes.”

He hummed, low and thoughtful in that way that told you how wrong you were, but he was too polite to outright call you a dumbass.

It was the little things that were ruining you from there.

The way he rolled the pen between his fingers like it wasn’t clearly calculated to make you watch his hands and salivate over his dexterity. How his soft voice dipped low at the end of a sentence when he leaned just a bit closer to you. The little glances with an arch of a brow and a smirk when he caught you glancing back. The soft laughter under his breath when you accidentally called “cursed manipulation” “cursed manhandling,” and then immediately wanted to die.

“Manhandling?” He repeated with a raised brow.

“I’m going to jump out the window.”

“Please don’t. I'd like to keep you in my room.”

He smiled when he said it, easy and teasing like there was no other way you could possibly take that statement somewhere in the filthiest part of the gutters of your increasingly lust-addled mind.

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

At some point, the space between you two shrank, just naturally and gradually. His thigh against yours was no longer an accidental bump now and then, and instead was glued to you. His arm braced behind you was suddenly close enough that you could feel body heat on your lower back.

How he leaned over you, chin nearly on your shoulder and breath ghosting across your neck while he explained concepts to you that may as well have been in some eldritch language for all you actually absorbed. All you could focus on with this maddening proximity was his scent, the low tone of his voice, the way he bit his lower lip when he read to himself…

And then, with no warning, he sat up straighter and reached for your notebook.

You flinched, jarred from a rather tantalizing daydream about said lips.

He caught it, though, that flinch. That very telling hitch in your breath.

Suguru paused, holding the edge of your notebook and fixing you with an amused look.

“Something wrong?” He asked, all politeness that veiled any of the indecency you were certain you were projecting onto his very mundane actions.

You shook your head quickly. “No. Nope. Nothing.”

He smiled again, a little wider this time, before leaning in closer.

“Come here.”

That’s all he said.

Quiet and almost bored, like you were a particularly unimpressive sparring partner.

Your body moved before your brain did, and you very obediently shifted closer.

He didn’t reach for you, just tilted his head, watching, waiting, observing.

There was no way he was letting you get to within a breath of his lips - at his invitation - without expecting a kiss. This was far too on-the-nose. Suguru Geto knew what he was doing, and your confidence surged for a moment, that perhaps also his inadvertent teases over the course of the night with no real pass at you was simply… him being shy. You'd need to make the first proper move.

So, you leaned in to kiss him, not even thinking.

And he did not meet you halfway.

You missed.

You almost kissed the corner of his mouth - almost - before his hand slid up the back of your neck and tilted your head exactly the way he wanted it, holding you in place like a misbehaved feline.

“Eager.” He accused under his breath, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“I wasn’t -” You stuttered, flushed and now wholly void of the impatient confidence you'd summoned to finally claim those pretty lips.

“Mm.” He silenced your lying protest with a disbelieving hum and a smile that belied something not-at-all shy or polite.

Then -

He kissed you, finally. Slow and full and indulgent. The kind of kiss that made your toes curl and your thoughts go fuzzy.

And just as you started to push forward, to deepen it -

He leaned back.

Just an inch.

Just enough to make you follow.

Your mouth hovered over his, breathing shallow, eyes searching his for any clue as to what he was looking for. He looked infuriatungly pleased with himself.

You tried to move forward to capture his mouth again.

He leaned back again.

You let out the smallest, most miserable little groan before he actually laughed.

“I thought we were studying.” He mused gently.

“I can't focus because of you.”

“No, it doesn't seem like it.” He tilted his head. “Should I send you back to your room so you can?”

That very clear danger of being deprived of him spurred you to action.

You straddled him before you even realized that was the next step. His hands came to your hips, thumbs tracing unhurried circles just beneath the hem of your shirt.

You felt impatient - he merely looked like he expected as much.

Suguru kissed you again, properly this time. One hand slipped up your back. The other caught your wrist when you tried to grab at his buttons.

“No.” He said lightly, smile still in his voice. “Slow.”

“I am going slow -”

If you had it your way, he'd already be leaned back on his bed, stripped down with you on top.

He shut you up by kissing you hard, and then pulled back, lips brushing your jaw as he spoke:

“You’re not in charge here.”

Oh.

That’s what he said, so simply that your mouth dried and you could only nod.

And then he kissed you again, deep this time. Slower than before as his lips dragged over yours like he was giving you time to reconsider and decide this wasn't for you.

You didn’t, of course.

If anything, you chased his mouth again, desperate now, hungry, and he let you for a moment.

One moment.

One hand at the base of your spine, one sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, palm hot against your bare skin.

You started to grind against him without realizing.

His hand moved immediately, lower, tighter on your hip.

“Easy…” He murmured, pulling back just enough to speak.

You made a noise, small and wrecked.

He kissed you again to shut you up. Or maybe just to swallow that sound for himself.

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

It wasn't long before you were trying to unbutton his shirt again - your hands awkward, clumsy, too eager - when he caught both your wrists in one large hand and gently, so gently, moved them away from his chest.

His other hand came to your thigh, thumb brushing the inside, close but not close enough.

“Let me.” He said, and it wasn’t a request.

You nodded.

You hated yourself for how fast you nodded.

He started slow, because of course he did.

He slid his hands up beneath your shirt, fight-calloused palms scorching, moving across the planes of your waist and ribs to memorize the shape of you. His thumbs pressed into the soft skin just under your breasts and stayed there, not groping, not rushing.

Just holding.

And fuck that wasn't what you needed.

You tried to move; rocked your hips again.

He stopped touching you completely, and you froze and whined.

“Patience.” Suguru urged, softly amused. “You’re not going anywhere. We've got all night.”

You bit your lip and pouted, because he was treating this like a meditation session instead of the achingly real and dire need that you had to feel his skin on yours and those hands inside of you before you really did die.

“…You’re being cruel.”

He hummed. “Am I?”

But when he touched you again, it was decisive.

His mouth was at your throat now, kissing a slow trail down to your collarbone as his hands lifted your shirt - up, up, off. You raised your arms automatically, and he pulled it over your head and tossed it aside. The cool air on your newly exposed skin was heavenly, but it was quickly tempered by his warm gaze, and how he just looked at you.

Calm, warm, focused, patient.

He leaned back slightly, hands still resting at your sides, and let his gaze trace every inch of you. You felt like you were standing naked in front of an altar being admired.

“You’re beautiful.” He remarked appreciatively, as if just stating a plain, blunt fact.

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What were you supposed to say to that?

And then his hands moved again, down this time. Over your hips and between your legs under your hitched up skirt.

You gasped.

He kissed the hollow of your throat again, shushing you.

His fingers moved with precisely the kind of intent you were hoping for. Not rushed, but no awkward fumbling around. Suguru found exactly where you wanted him with ease, like he'd memorized your body in that eternity ten whole seconds he'd spent just raking his eyes over you.

He teased you through your underwear first. Light pressure. Barely-there circles that had you arching into his chest within seconds, panting. He hadn’t even kissed you again yet.

When he slipped under the elastic, fingers pressed against your dripping core, you whimpered.

“Already?” He asked, voice soft. “We’ve barely started.”

“I -” You gasped. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, low in his throat. “Still trying to be in charge, huh?”

You hated him.

You wanted him to ruin you.

Maybe you said that out loud. You weren’t sure, but he chuckled again and the sound alone put you in a daze.

Two of his fingers slipped between your folds and he groaned softly into your skin like he’d just experienced something divine.

“You’re soaked.” He mused, and you squirmed.

Suguru pressed his fingers deeper, slow and unrelenting. Your head dropped against his shoulder, and he exhaled against your neck, biting gently at your pulse point.

“I could keep you like this all night.” He murmured. “Just here. In my lap. Begging.”

He absolutely could, and you would let him.

But then he crooked his fingers just right and you very nearly had a fucking spiritual experience. Because that one little shift had you on the brink of climax already.

The moment you rocked your hips down, just barely, just a fraction of instinct to get there, his fingers paused.

He didn’t pull away or make a scene. He just… stopped. Kept them where they were.

Inside you? Yes. Moving? No.

Your breath caught and your thighs twitched.

He kissed the corner of your jaw, still calm, still maddeningly gentle. “Mmm.”

That was all he said.

He didn’t need to say more.

You were learning this game, and you stilled entirely, letting him train you.

You let him take over again.

And like clockwork, he resumed just as slowly, just as deliberately, his fingers curling ever so slightly as your walls clenched around him.

You whimpered, but forced yourself to remain obediently still.

“That’s better.” He praised, voice something soft and fond and pleased.

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

It went on like that.

Each time you tried to chase it - lift your hips, buck against his hand, whine too demandingly - he slowed. Not enough to frustrate you into a tantrum, but just enough to make you pliant.

Every movement told your body: Wait. Yield. Trust.

The more you gave him control, the more he gave back.

When you went still in his lap, your arms trembling, your body soft and malleable, he mouthed your throat and rolled his thumb once over your clit.

Your whole body spasmed and he smiled into your neck.

“You’re doing so well.” He crooned softly, fingers still buried deep, thumb pressing against your clit. “See what happens when you stop fighting me?”

You whimpered again, higher; reedier. Your hands were gripping the front of his shirt now - clutching but not trying to pull or unbutton anymore. You'd learned better by now. Your lips parted in a near-silent keen, head tipping against his shoulder.

He kissed your jaw, your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

“Just let me.” He instructed calmly again, like he was still helping you with your studies and not edging you to the most torturously delicious orgasm of your life.

You nodded - of course you nodded.

And, fuck, he rewarded you.

His thumb circled again, just a touch firmer, and he didn't let up this time. Fingers curved perfectly, the heel of his palm nudging against your hips, holding you steadily open despite the shake in your legs.

You turned to kiss him, couldn’t find his mouth, got the edge of his cheek instead. He turned and caught your mouth properly, kissed you slow and deep while his fingers worked. Suguru was the pinnacle of smug composure while you were absolutely shattering.

You were making so much noise now that if you were capable of any coherent thought, you might have had the grace to be embarrassed.

“Let it happen.” He whispered, between kisses. “I’ve got you.”

You clenched around him, so, so close.

And when you gasped, thighs twitching again, he -

Stopped.

Just for a second.

Just to see if you’d chase.

You almost did.

Almost belligerently moved again.

But you fought against the primal urge and waited, because you knew he would deliver and you needed him to let you out of this near-climax purgatory your impatience had trapped you in.

“Good girl.” He praised right against your ear as he began again. “Just like that.”

His voice hadn’t changed. Still low, still calm, still friendly. You might’ve imagined the note of heat behind it, if it weren’t for the way his fingers moved now, and the slight tinge of flush on his face.

He kept you open with one hand, two fingers still deep, now steadily curled and dragging down your walls. His thumb moved in deliberate circles, slow and relentless, slick from your own wetness.

“Suguru -” You breathed out, pleading as that heat gathered and pooled unbearably.

That earned you another kiss. A sweet one to your temple this time. His hand never faltered.

“That’s it. Go ahead.”

You did.

It was dizzying. Hot and slow and deep, cresting and pulling your body taut against his until the sound you made was somewhere between a sob and a whimper. Your hands slipped down to his forearm, clinging, breath stuttering with every pulse of your orgasm against his hand.

And he held you the entire time.

No teasing. No gloating.

Mouth at your jaw, arm around your waist, hand between your thighs until every last tremble faded.

Only when you stopped quivering and were little more than a boneless, ruined heap in his hold did he offer you another little show of praise with a kiss and a devastating good girl.

You sagged against him, forehead against his shoulder, eyes shut.

He was warm. So warm. His palm slid up your back again, slow and soothing now, fingers skimming your spine as you went delicate in his hands.

You’d barely caught your breath before he shifted beneath you.

One little roll of his hips and you felt him - hard against your inner thigh, straining behind the fabric of his pants.

His fingers grazed your chin and tilted your face toward him.

When you opened your eyes, he was already watching you with that same amused curiosity.

No instructions, no questions.

And a smile that told you whichever way this went next, you weren’t getting out of it intact.

Then, he moved.

Just a subtle shift beneath you. You blinked slowly as your brain caught up, chest still heaving in the aftershocks of your release. His hand, the one that had just drawn you apart like thread from a spool, slipped from between your legs, and you felt its absence immediately and expressed as much with a whine.

Then you felt his eyes, still observing you.

You looked up, bleary, to see Suguru soft, composed, that same gentle smile still playing at the corners of his mouth like he hadn’t just made you see stars.

And then…

He raised his hand to his lips.

You barely had time to register it before he licked his fingers clean. First one, then the next. Slowly, his tongue wrapped around his digits, his gaze never leaving yours as he took them into his mouth down to the knuckles.

He hummed, quiet and content, and savored your tangible pleasure that he'd earned.

You made a choked noise in your throat and your body twitched, your fingers clutching his sleeve.

“You’re not done already are you?” He teased lightly.

You could only shake your head no before he lifted you off his lap like it was nothing - hands braced beneath your thighs, body rising with you as he stood in one clean motion, carried you to the bed, and laid you out before ridding you of the remaining articles of clothing you wore like they were offensive.

And then he looked down at you.

Clothed, composed, hair still tied back.

While you were panting and bare and utterly undone.

You curled up and reached for his shirt, but he caught your wrist before you could tug at the buttons.

“Not yet.” His voice was firm and soft and left no room for the argument you so desperately wanted to make.

Still, your hand dropped back to the mattress. He leaned over you and picked it up to kiss your knuckles in reward.

He kissed his way down, too.

Slowly.

Mouth at your sternum, your navel, the soft curve of your hip. Hands moving over you the whole time, mapping every part of your skin like he was learning it, like it was a language he already knew, and he was just brushing up on his fluency.

He didn’t rush a thing.

When Suguru nudged your legs apart, you opened for him without thinking. And he made a hum of approval, like you’d pleased him.

He kissed the inside of your knee first.

Then your thigh.

When his mouth finally met you, your whole body jerked.

And then he ate you.

There was no other word for it. Not just licks, not just teasing; full attention and hungry pressure. Tongue flat and slow, then pointed and devouring. He held your thighs apart with both hands, thumbs dragging little arcs against your skin as he licked into you with maddening expertise.

You were already so over-sensitive.

He knew it as well, but it didn’t matter.

He didn’t let up. He adjusted as you squirmed, exhaled softly and appreciative when you whimpered, let his mouth press deeper and firmer. You could feel the strain in his grip - he wasn’t just teasing anymore.

You were the one making an absolute mess, but this was his reward.

You tried to warn him. Tried to say something - his name, maybe, or a curse or a plea, but the second your hands touched his hair, he groaned against you.

You froze as he continued on, relentless, with none of his earlier teasing.

Your body arched, hands clutching at the sheets, at his shoulders, his hair, at anything.

And when you came again, it was messy and hot and overwhelming. Your voice cracked, hips grinding shamelessly against his mouth, thighs shaking beneath his palms.

He didn’t stop until you were crying his name while he lapped up every bit of you he'd drawn out.

He didn’t stop until you pushed weakly at his shoulder, gasping.

Then - only then - did he lift his head.

Mouth and chin glistening, eyes dark, completely unbothered.

“Still with me?”

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

You were barely starting to come down from your second climax when he sat up, hands pressing softly to your thighs to part them one last time just to kiss your hip, just to soothe.

And then he leaned back on his heels, still fully clothed, and exhaled slowly, finally showing the first sign of it.

Tension.

That tightness in his jaw. That heavy breath through his nose.

You blinked up at him, dazed, lips parted. You felt wrecked and utterly melted while he still looked like he’d just begun.

Apparently fucking Suguru Geto was on par with sparring with him. He was in another league.

But you saw it now - the way his pants strained at the seam, the way his eyes were just slightly darker, the barest twitch of a muscle in his forearm when you sat up slowly, reaching toward his belt.

He caught your hand. Not harshly - just placed his over yours.

“You sure?” He asked, always giving you that chance to stop - patient, willing to give you a break, willing to let you call it quits when it got too intense.

You nodded, though.

“Good.” He said simply, and let go.

You moved slowly at first.

Hands to his belt, fingers unbuckling, breath catching when you brushed against the hardness pressing against the front of his pants. He said nothing, just watched and let you work to reveal him at your own pace this time.

When you finally got his cock free - thick, flushed, heavy against your palm - you swallowed hard.

Big.

He smiled softly at that.

“Don’t overthink it.” He coaxed, hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Just touch me.”

You stroked him first, tentative and slow, and he breathed out. That was it. No lewd moan, no exaggerated grunt - just a steady exhale that made your stomach flutter.

When you leaned down and kissed the tip, he watched with quiet reverence.

“You’re doing fine.” He praised, sighing lightly, proving once more that his patience was truly inhuman.

When you took him into your mouth, slow, careful, inch by inch - his breath hitched, and then his hand settled in your hair.

No force, just gentle permission to keep going.

He let you find your rhythm, let you learn him. When you flattened your tongue along the underside, you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. When you pulled back slowly, letting your lips drag over the head, you heard a small sound at the back of his throat - finally.

You looked up.

Suguru was watching you with half-lidded eyes, mouth slightly open, jaw clenched in effort as he concentrated.

“Doing so well.” He said again, thumb brushing your cheek.

You hummed in response, mouth still full, and he shuddered.

Those small little reactions were more than enough to make you want to double down on your efforts. You kept going, deeper now. His cock heavy on your tongue, hand tightening just slightly in your hair as your lips slicked down, up, down again.

He groaned, soft and low, when you gagged just a little, when your hands braced on his thighs and you looked up, wet-lashed and breathless and flushed from the tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

His control frayed then.

He pulled you back gently, thumb swiping across your spit-slicked lips, eyes less focused now.

“Lie back.” He gave a quiet order, coaxing you to obey. “Now.”

And obey you did.

He stood, finally, shirt half-untucked, belt loose around his hips, his body tall and commanding in the low light, and then he leaned over you again.

Hands braced on either side of your head, he dipped down low to your ear.

“You’ve been very good, but I think I’ll take my turn now.”

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

You barely remembered how it started anymore.

All you knew was this: Suguru’s body pressed to yours, skin hot and sweaty against yours, hips rolling deep between your thighs. The drag of his length inside you was maddening, the kind of friction that built in a slow, relentless ache.

His mouth had moved to your neck again. You could feel his breath there, and his teeth.

He was kissing more firmly now, bruising.

Not gentle, but with no brutality either.

He was so damn steady in everything he did.

You felt his hand shift between your legs. His palm pressing down just slightly, anchoring your hips.

He adjusted the angle of his thrust, and you cried out. A desperate, choked sound you couldn’t have faked if you tried.

And then you heard it:

“There?”

You nodded frantically.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Yes, right there -”

“Good.” Was all he said before he did it again.

And again.

And again.

Until the rhythm changed.

Still slow and controlled, with that even pace that drove you to the edge with every hit of his tip against your walls.

But deeper now.

The kind of powerful rut that lifted your hips from the mattress with every thrust, your body bouncing into his with nowhere to go, nothing to do except take it.

And he let you. Expected you to.

He let you fall apart without rushing, without interrupting, just holding you there with a hand on your waist and another tangled in your hair, one long stroke after another dragging you across the edge.

He grunted quietly when you clenched around him.

You felt it.

That subtle pull in his body. That crack of tension in his voice.

He kissed your mouth open and breathed something against your lips you didn’t catch.

Then said it again, after a moment of crumbling composure.

“Still with me?”

You nodded, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

“Barely.” You sobbed out.

He smiled down at you, sweet and full of pride.

“You’re doing so well.”

And then he fucked you.

No more teasing, no more calm pace.

Just hard, even, perfect. Everything you thought you needed and now knew you needed. His hips snapped forward, filling you again and again with a wet, steady clap of skin that made your whole body tremble and shudder and your core ache. Your breath hitched every time he bottomed out, every time he angled just right, every time you felt him drag back so slowly only to press in so deep you could barely breathe.

You could feel yourself getting louder; high, reedy, wrecked little sobs against his shoulder, and he liked it. You knew he did.

His hand slid up your back again, the other gripped under your thigh, and he didn’t stop.

Even when your body shook. Even when you clenched so tightly around him it felt like you might break. Even when you moaned his name like it was a plea and a warning both.

Especially then.

You came again.

So hard it almost hurt. So intense it made you curl into him, nails raking lines across his back, your voice strangled and high and raw as you came around him, clenching and fluttering and slick enough now that every thrust made an audible mess of your bodies meeting.

He groaned loudly into your shoulder.

That was the first real sound he made.

And then you felt it -

The way his hips stuttered.

The way his grip tightened.

The way his teeth bit down into your neck.

He was there with you.

Suguru stayed buried deep when he came. You felt the twitch of him inside you - hot, thick pulses that filled you fast, spilling out around him even before he finished.

He breathed hard, something low and groaning and quiet in your ear, and he didn’t pull out.

You gasped - oversensitive, your body still pulsing - and he grunted again when you clenched reflexively.

“Shh.” He exhaled, forehead pressed to yours now. “Just a little more.”

You nodded, barely able to think, he'd fucked you so thoroughly.

Suguru rocked into you again. Slower now, but deeper, like he couldn’t stop, couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you empty.

His cum was dripping out of you already, warm and thick, smearing between your thighs with every slow grind of his hips.

He kissed you again before he finally stilled.

Chest rising against yours, arms around you, still buried inside.

⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆⋆₊𖤐⸝⸝🐌⸝⸝𖤐₊⋆

The room was too quiet.

No more wet slap of skin on skin. No gasping. No quiet grunts. No soft-spoken questions answered with broken whimpers.

Just steady breathing and the soft, sticky sound of Suguru slowly pulling out.

You whimpered, more a noise of protest than pain, and he kissed your temple immediately.

“I know, sweetheart.” He murmured. “You did so well.”

You were trembling. Warm and sore and very aware of every inch of your body that had been handled, bitten, held in place, or spread wide open. Your thighs ached. Your hips burned. You had no idea where his shirt had gone and even less of a clue where your underwear might be.

And Suguru, bastard that he was, was already up and moving, calm and smug and unhurried as he slipped into the adjoining bathroom.

He tossed a used towel in the bin and came back with a clean one, crouching at the edge of the bed.

“Let me see.” He said, not asking.

You didn’t resist. You were too tired to resist anything. You let your legs fall open with a soft wince. He huffed a quiet laugh through his nose when he saw the aftermath of what he'd done to you, still dripping out.

“Mm. Yeah. That’s a mess.”

You swatted at him halfheartedly.

“Not my fault you’ve got no self-control. I only invited you over to study.”

“Suguru.”

“Hmm?” He hummed, already wiping you gently.

You bit your lip. “You’re so annoying.”

“I was very nice to you.” He retorted calmly. “You begged for it. Multiple times. I even let you come four times.”

“Five.”

His hand paused and he looked up at her, delighted.

“Oh? Don’t let me undersell myself.” He leaned in. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He let you flop back against the sheets with a huff and pressed a kiss to your knee before finally standing and rummaging through his drawers.

You watched him.

The ridiculous, infuriating, beautiful man. Shirtless, flushed, hair still half-tied, with a bite mark on his nail-scratched shoulders that looked almost as nasty as the several now littering your neck.

He found one of his clean shirts and turned toward you, then paused.

“Do you want boxers too or just the shirt?”

“Shirt’s fine.”

“Hoping to go another round?”

“Suguru.”

He tossed the shirt at your face and you shrieked, voice raw and hoarse.

Once you’d tugged it on (far too large, soft, and smelled like him), you let him coax you into his lap while he ran a comb through your damp, tangled hair. You leaned against his chest, legs curled under a blanket, while he made soothing little passes through your hair like it was second nature.

You knew this tender aftercare was a deliberate act of manipulation.

He was lulling you, giving you no reason to get up. Not that you could.

Or wanted to.

[tartrazeen]

I'm imagining a scenario where Connor goes back to working with the DPD post-revolution, but before rights have been officially signed. So he's still technically classified as 'office equipment'. And there's like four other androids, also ones who used to be at the DPD, all working there as they wait for their classifications to update in the eyes of the law.

And I'm imagining Fowler yelling at everyone that they're all gonna stay until some bullshit gets cleaned up - like they have to clean up the archives or something.

Fowler: I DON'T CARE HOW LONG IT TAKES. NOBODY LEAVES UNTIL IT GETS DONE.

The Humans: Awwwwwwwww 😠😠😠😠😠

Connor: 😬

The other androids: 😬

Connor: 🖐️😬

Fowler: WHAT, CONNOR?

Connor: can the androids go?

Fowler: What?

Connor: you said 'everybody' but i figured you were talking to employees

Connor: so

Fowler:

Connor: technically

Fowler:

Connor: 😬

The other androids: 😬

Fowler: ... The androids can go.

Connor: NICE

The other androids: 🙌

One of the humans: Weren't you fighting for equal rights?

Connor: yeah and the fight continues, so we've gotta leave at 5

Another human: But you work with us.

Connor: whoa

Connor: i work here like the scanner works here

Another android: I personally have the work ethic of our door locks.

Connor: that's terrible

Connor: also on-brand for your model

Another human: What about team spirit?

Connor: oh we'll be here in spirit

Connor: not legally though

Connor: or physically