#using well earned knowledge against u

[hungharrington]

you already know i’m way too soft… so i give you: [ CLOSE ]  sender wrapping their arms around receiver who is on top after they’ve finished,  holding them close against their chest with their face hidden in their neck while they recover. 

special bonus if you somehow can make this the softest thing ever (the reward is a fat kiss)

you know what auttie u were the only one who picked this one but bcos it's you, imma do it anyways <3 MDNI this entire blog is 18+

One thing you can't say about Steve Harrington is that he is not a determined person.

Other people might use the word competitive but you know better; within him is burning determination that drives him to do better in everything he does. Loving you is one of those things. Loving you in bed... is another.

You're particular. You used to hate it — that you like this but not that, but you like this sometimes and that if you do it a certain way. It feels overly picky and for a long time, before you had Steve, you weren't sure if you allowed to be that picky.

But Steve meets your particularness head on.

So, if it means you need a little longer to cum? Well, it's simply of a challenge of stamina and working a little harder for it. Steve always rises to the challenge.

Tonight, you're wound extra tight— frustrated that it's taking you so long to get near your peak even with Steve doing all the right things. But he's more than pleased with letting you take what you need, giving breathy little groans just at the sight before him.

He's beneath you, one hand helping your hips rock forward and back, his throbbing cock buried deep in your wet cunt. You've been at it awhile, a slow ride on his cock, bringing both of you closer and closer— but Steve's focus is all on you.

"Fuck, you're so—" His words get swallowed up in his moan as you rise up on your thighs an inch and drop back down, the roll of his hips still so gentle. The sex is never too rough when you're on top. Steve doesn't care in the least, he likes it, he loves it. Adores when it's soft and slow and you take what you need from him.

"Oh f-fuck, honey," He whines, his hips bucking up and pressing his cock up into you. A flame of white hot pleasure licks up your spine as Steve's fucked out rambling continues. "So pretty—y'so fucking gorgeous."

It's a time where you have no choice to believe him completely — with the reverent expression on his face, flushed cheeks and cherry red lips, gazing up at you atop him like you're everything. The knot in your tummy burns hotter. A desperate whimper tumbles out your throat and your hips move a little faster.

"You getting close? Y'need my help, mm?" He asks. Normally, there would be that slight condescending lilt that makes you gush but tonight, it's just love. You nod, whimpering again as you do. You're close, so close— but not close enough.

"Yes," you gasp. "Please, Steve- more, I need— can you—"

"Hey, sh sh," Steve shushes you, hearing how you're getting worked up just trying to ask him for more. His hand slides from your hip across your belly, palm flat and warm, til his thumb finds your clit. He rubs fast circles, just the way you've taught him you like, and he's rewarded with a long whiney moan. "There we go, that's what you need, yeah?"

You're nodding, chest beginning to heave as the edges of your orgasm trickle in. Your hips move desperately, fucking yourself on his cock as his thumb gives the extra stimulation on your clit you need.

"S-Steve," you pant, a whimpery warning. "Steve, fuck, I'm— you're gonna make me cum, you're gonna—"

You cut yourself off with a loud whine, all high pitched and breathy, as your orgasm finally washes over you. You flutter around his cock and feel the grip of his hands tighten, Steve's own orgasm tipping over after holding off for so long. You can't help how your buckle, leaning forward and onto Steve's chest as you quiver and moan— Steve dutifully milking it as he fucks the both of you through your highs.

It's delirium, it's overwhelming, it's so much — you cum hard enough to see stars and bury your face away in his neck, safe to ride out the waves. You're still panting, cunt still clenching around him and Steve's hands move, dragging up your sides so he can wrap his arms around you in a big hug. One of his big hands strokes down your spine soothingly, his own heavy breathes beginning to slow.

"That was a big one, hm?" He murmurs, soft and low. You can see feel him throbbing inside you, can still feel bursts of pleasure making your thighs tremble. "Mm, I know it was, I know. You did so good, baby, so good."

You try to speak but another muffled pitiful noise escapes you instead and Steve's arms tighten their hug; his hands stroke over your hair this time, fingers drifting through to scrape at your scalp softly.

"Did so good f'me," He continues, finally feeling your body start to relax against him, recovering slowly from the intense high. Faintly, he can feel you press a kiss to his neck and it makes him smile. "So, so good. I love you, y'know?"

"I know," you manage to speak, words muffled against his skin. "I love you too."

Steve's smile transforms to a blinding grin, even though you can't see it — you swear his chest glows a little bit hotter beneath you. You kiss his neck again. God, he loves you well. You should move probably now that you've caught your breath— the sweat is beginning to cool.

One more minute, you think, happier than ever just where you are.

[livingcuttingboard]

no bc anybody who says that jon sims turned out to be like this (an asshole, introvert, stiff, with the need to act unecessarly professional etc. )bc his grandma was overly condesending and/or neglectfull has never met ANYBODY raised by their grandparents. they just... are like this. its hard to adjust and honestly thats why i could never hate jon for his assholery in season 1 bc i know how it feels, being like that. trying to reprogram ur mind to be normal with ur peers, to accept that these people dont expect u to stand straight and speak and so u should stop excepting them to do so too.

like i just know he had to hammer it in his head that "no, my coworkers arent laughing bc of their lack of discepline and respect for me, tim just made a dick joke and i should find it funny aswell". most grandparents raise their grandkids to be neat and better than everyone. and once that child gets the power to actually use all skills their grandparents taght the, academic knowledge and life advice, its obvious they will fight for what they see as hard earned respect. like jonathan sims might have whole had 9 years to adjust to interacting with people without his grandmas infulence but he was never had power the position of the head archivist offered and honestly? with how everybody was treatin him in the later seasons (and he acted like he was used to it) that reach for power in season 1 was a well deserved break from the usual. bc i am sure that younger jon was the weakling,never to be respected or feared. and his grandma,like any grandma, raised him with the promise he would be great one day. and she was right.

like i love my grandma but the constant piting me against other kids assasinted any type of humbleness within me at the ripe age of 8

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: if you have stuck around and waited u are INCREDIBLE thank u so much for ur patience <3 esp cos i'm still testing it with my slowburn lmao + tell me what u think lovelies and as always, enjoy

word count: 4.1k

synopsis: Azriel's shadows find a new way to torment their master. The question of forgiveness follows you. Cassian gets you in the ring, testing out newly learnt skills.

CHAPTER TEN :: SHADOWS

Azriel is a spy by his very nature.

It makes sense; the gift of Shadowsinger is never bestowed so lightly so that it could ever leave any doubt of the user. Shadowsingers are spies, even well before their gifts revealed themselves. Always watching. Always listening.

It was, then, a tad against his disposition to keep his nose out business that wasn't his — as that was precisely what Azriel did best.

But his decision was resolute. Azriel had promised himself he would not be the first to break the distance between you two.

However, for a fae over five-hundred years old, it's quite unsettling to yet again feel the pangs of impatience. Years of practicing restraint and then, in a mere few months, his hard earned patent for patience begins to fray at the ends. You'll be his undoing, he's sure of it.

Like a young and fresh-faced warrior itching for battle, it's almost embarrassing how Azriel can't seem to stay away from you. His feet wander and all paths lead to you.

His shadows are not helping.

Azriel thinks they've managed to get more insistent, which he hadn't really believe was possible. They've proven him oh-so wrong. When he walks the halls of the House of Wind, the dark wisps dart out, as though trying to tug him along.

He had trusted them all of two times before, face flushed and with an ungraceful but thankfully unnoticed exit, he learned just where they were leading him.

They were following the invisible thread between you, taking him to see his mate.

When it became clear he wasn't going to be coerced along, his shadows had only got more devious.

It's a particular brand of torture, Azriel thinks, to be delivered little parcels of knowledge of the person he's not allowing himself to see.

And they're ruthless about it. Whispers about how you're healing and the growing steadiness of your feet, the way you stand a little taller each day, about the tentative trust extended to Cassian.

Gods, that one had made his hand jerk across the paper in surprise, spilling a patch of ink onto the report he was in the middle of.

You were talking to Cassian— no, you were nearly friends with Cassian. The magnanimous hope had ballooned within him before Azriel remembered to stomp it back down.

Mor had teased him for the black stains on his hands during dinner.

He studies them now, nearly washed away completely, before he lifts his head. In the cool air of dusk, Azriel surveils the training ring from the shadows of the door, eyes scanning across the balcony.

It's empty, as expected. The rising moon is his only company.

You've stuck to training in the mornings, of course.

He's relieved and disappointed all at once—then Azriel forces that disappointment out of his system with a frustrated huff.

He is not allowed to be disappointed. Your trust is something he still needs to claw his way back to, to earn, and that required waiting and accepting that.

Azriel would see you... when you wanted to see him.

Despite his resolve, the thread between you still gives a futile tug before he can stop it. Scowling at himself, he rubs at his chest meanly, banishing the feeling. He steps down onto the balcony and heads towards the equipment.

As his scarred hands reach out and pluck one of the training staffs off the rack, his shadows twirls and trill, an almost teasing motion. It takes one pointed whisper, one tug on his heartstrings —they used that one just earlier today— before his hands are glowing warm from the second-hand touch.

His fingers spring apart and the staff hits the tiles with a loud clatter. Even though it's just him out on the balcony, he still casts an awkward glance around him. Gods

If his brothers could see him now, Azriel thinks dryly.

He swats at the shadow that had unhelpfully fed him the information. It dances away from him, swooping down to circle the staff on the ground with its others, a mass of black surrounding it.

Azriel bends down and gingerly picks up the staff, his hazel eyes staring at it for a long moment. Where your hands have been.

After a moment, his fingers curl around it. His marred hands feel like they're glowing again, warm and tingling, even if he knows it's all in his mind. Even so, he swears the golden thread between you hums, just ever so slightly.

He'll allow himself this, just this once, Azriel decides. His grip tightens and he heads to the ring, preparing to train, his hands where yours were just mere hours before.

—

The day after you had met Cassian, as the dawn breaks over sky, you find him on the training balcony before you.

You're a little later than you'd normally be, the sun actually rising before you do. You're moving a little more sluggishly too, but for once it's for a better reason.

Sleep, normally light and fitful for you, had actually been a reprieve last night. You slept deeply, falling into dreamless slumber and resting properly.

When morning crept in, dragging your eyelids up had felt like a mountainous amount of effort. Part of you wonders if it's because of the male across the balcony from you.

Allies, you had agreed upon.

It's a little easier to rest when you've made one less enemy.

Watching him now, stretching his supple and bulging arms, you have to force down the instilled anxiety that festers up, a force of habit that's kept you safe all these years.

You're not in Exordor anymore. You're not keeping any secrets.

Cassian clocks your hesitant stance in the doorway as he turns, a wide grin breaking across his face. His wings perk up, a genuine sign of his excitement. He stops his stretching momentarily to wave.

"Morning!" He calls out, despite the fact the distance between you doesn't require him to do so.

"Ally." He adds pointedly, leaning over to give an over the top wink.

Somewhere buried deep inside you, a laugh almost wants to wriggle free, but it's smothered before you can think too hard. You give him a wry smile instead, the best you can manage, and take a tentative step down onto the balcony. Your wings give a tiny shiver in the passing breeze.

"Good morning," You manage to return, the words sticking in your throat on the way up. It's awkward but nothing in Cassian's friendly demeanor changes to indicate he's noticed. Your feet lead you over towards the weapons rack.

It's as you reach them do you realise your heart is rabbiting wildly, pounding in your chest, stewing you in discomfort. The hair on the back of your neck rises, prickling with unease. Your back is turned to a fierce warrior, one that could very well attack you.

And worse, you'll be training next to him, still not healed, still stumbling on your feet—revealing all the ways to strike you down.

You—you haven't done this, ever. You haven't trained with someone completely as yourself, with no facade to hide beneath. It suddenly becomes incredibly vulnerable.

Your hand trembles as you reach out for the training staff and you try your best to swallow down your nerves.

Cassian has kept his distance, resuming his stretches, but you don't miss how his eyes dance over to you every couple of seconds. For a moment, it alarms you but as you find a place and settle into your stance, you steal another glimpse.

It's more like... a dog wagging its tail, you think faintly.

You press down the urge to smile and begin your exercises.

There's all of ten minutes of silence before it gets broken.

"How do you like Velaris?"

You pause in your motions, huffing to catch your breath as your grip the training staff loosens. You cast a glance over at Cassian who's now picked up one of the broadswords, beginning to throw its weight around easily.

You blink and for a moment, your eyes dart out over the edge of the balcony, to the city teeming with life, so close and yet so far from you. A part of you aches fiercely to see it.

"I... haven't been into the city." You answer honestly. It comes out curt and doesn't exactly answer his question.

Eyeing his sword nervously, your force your aching muscles through another series of exercises. You're a sliver better than the day before but when your ear twinges loudly, you still stumble, a minuscule motion. Your heart lurches up your throat, frustration welling like a tidal wave within you.

"Okay, then how do you like the House of Wind?"

You pause again, looking over to Cassian tentatively, the pain in your ear momentarily forgotten. The rising frustration in you dissipates at the distraction. He waves a casual hand over to the house you've been residing in since you arrived in Velaris and smiles once more.

You swallow thickly. What is his angle here?

"I haven't..." You struggle to put your thoughts into words. It's... different. New. Unsettling. You don't want to say the wrong thing. For all you know, this may well be his home.

Eventually, you find your voice. "I like my room. It's—" Several words ping to the front of your mind. "—big."

You cringe. Some compliment that is. You're too honest even if it is true; you're far too used to the familiar cramped space of your own cabin. Even sharing walls with others is foreign to you and you're incredibly thankful you haven't run into anyone unexpectedly in any corridors yet.

It doesn't occur to you that it might entirely be by design, thanks to Rhys' strict instruction.

Cassian grins. "Yes, I recall Illyria being hardly known for it's roomy cabins."

He swings the sword around with a flick of his wrist, more like an idle motion than anything. Your eyes still flicker down keenly, watching for any threat, just in case.

"So, you haven't explored the house much then?" Cassian continues, feigning a stab forward with the sword, his eyes on his motions but his attention still focused primarily on you.

You follow his lead and swing the training staff again, in an arching whoosh. You shake your head in answer to his question.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you always talk this much during training?"

The words come out before you can think to check them, sucking in a sharp breath as you realise how snappy that sounded. Like you're looking for a fight.

You ready yourself to sink into a defensive stance, before you realise that Cassian has only laughed in response. A curl of his tied back hair comes loose as he shakes his head, the action almost... fond.

"Only when I'm trying to make friends." He grins warmly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Sorry, I'll stop prying."

You swallow and nod slightly, hoping it won't be read as rude. Though you'd had a hard time believing it, Cassian had been true to his word; no fighting unless it was in the ring. You hadn't dared to go near it yet.

Readjusting your stance, you prepared to go through the motions once more. It's still a bit more of the juvenile exercises than you're used to—forced back to the basics as you retrain your body—but also because you're solitary training. You're used to sparring with others.

Stealing a glimpse at Cassian, you ponder if—if you might, eventually that is, train alongside him as you had done with Azriel.

Moving the training staff deftly, you thrust it forward and twist your lithe body to dart forward again, a small patter of your feet on the stone.

It's maneuver used for rushing opponents, throwing them off their balance and driving them backwards. It works for you, mostly, but the way your wings cut through the air, the slightest whistle through the holey scars, makes you a little unsteady.

"You fight like you're bigger than you are."

Straightening up, you breathe heavily and peer around the edges of your wings back at Cassian—who apparently isn't done talking at all.

He nods to you, in reference the maneuver you've just performed. "That is a move usually far better suited for someone of a larger stature."

You clear your throat, wings curling in a bit closer around you. "Yes. Azriel, he- he was trying to rectify that. There's only one way to train Illyrians, as I'm sure you know."

Cassian nods again, lowering the sword to hang at his side. "That I do. However, I feel Azriel may have been taking the wrong approach given... the information he was not privy to at the time."

Your brows knit together, something wrong twisting tightly in your chest.

"Because I'm..."

Female.

"Not a male?"

The words come out sharp without meaning to.

Cassian's picks up on your defensiveness, his expression softening. He gives a little so-so motion with his free hand, his wings rustling behind him. "A bit, but not for reasons you may think."

When you don't speak, he continues, his explanation unfurling.

"Your centre of gravity is different to ours. That actually changes the best way for you to fight. More of your strength comes from these—"

He slaps his hands down onto his thighs with a grin.

"—than from your arms. For that reason, there are moves you will be better at than what you've been taught."

Cassian cocks his head, his dark eyes squinting for a moment, deep in thought. "Azriel likely switched your training to agility based, didn't he?"

You nod gingerly. You had no idea if what he was said was true. If there was a fighting style suited to females. That would require... female warriors which, for all you've ever known, is a highly unlikely thing to exist.

Though, being he is the General of the Night Court's armies, you'd likely assume Cassian knows what he's talking about.

He nods, that same easy smile. "He was right to do so. Most camps focus on brute strength and stamina. Makes for good warriors that can take hits and keep going. You can train that way if you still wish but you might find you excel when your efforts are put elsewhere."

It takes a long moment before you realise exactly what his words mean.

An offer. He's offering to train you, to teach you.

Pleasant surprise blooms inside you, warm, curling up behind your ribs like a purring cat. Cassian's eyes are light and friendly, his body language relaxed as though if you turn him down, it'd be of no consequence to him. Merely an offer.

You turn it over in your mind, back and forth. The gentle wind from the mountains caresses across your cheekbones, a warm touch.

Inside, deep in your chest, there's something telling you to trust. To take the step forward, to accept Cassian's outstretched proposal. That you might regret it if you didn't.

"How?" Your eyes skirt up and down on instinct, still on alert for a threat that isn't coming.

Cassian grins infectiously, not even attempting to hide his glee. He rolls his shoulders back and assesses you once more.

"Have you ever heard of the headscissor takedown?"

—

Flesh hits stone, a large shuddering bang that echoes out the courtyard. In the distance, a couple birds take flight, squawking loudly. Pain ricochets through your knees, a warbling and jarring pain that has you gritting your teeth.

"You're..." Cassian's breath comes out raggedly. "Incredible!"

He beams from where he's pinned beneath you and your pain dashes away in a moment, something gleaning and prideful taking its place.

There's a rivulet of blood under his nose, his hair knocked loose, and you know hitting the ground as hard as he did won't have been nice. He continues on as if he hasn't.

"That was perfect form. You're a Cauldron-born natural!"

You huff a breath that might be an actual laugh this time and quickly retract yourself, standing to your feet. You waver momentarily, hesitance poisoning your thoughts, before you decide. Holding out your hand to help, Cassian is quick to put his hand in your own and use it to lug himself up.

When he gets to his feet, his grip loosens but he doesn't let go altogether.

"Hey," He says, more serious this time. His fingers around your wrist, soft and warm, still make your pulse jump nervously. You force yourself to meet his gaze, still friendlier than ever. "Seriously. You're very skilled and you're a fast learner. You've got the makings to be lethal. The Night Court is lucky to have you on our side."

His hand slips back, grazing your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel the way your heart skips a beat.

No one has ever been... lucky to have you. It's so foreign that hearing someone say it aloud makes you forget to breath for one long second.

"I—" The word pushes out before you think about it. "That's... You-"

Praise is not a part of Illyrian training. You fumble with it, feeling entirely out of your depth, feeling oddly proud of yourself. It feels like your cheeks are warmer than usual.

Cassian chuckles, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "You're welcome." He says pointedly, making you realise you're supposed to say thank you after someone compliments you.

You flounder for another second, making Cassian laugh again, louder this time. He reaches forward and lightly taps you on the shoulder, a faux punch.

"You'll get used to it." He says. Part of you really, really wants to. "Now, c'mon. Let's go again. Hit me."

—

You think that now Cassian's got what he wanted—the two of you training together, learning the plethora of new moves, stances, blocks he has in his repertoire—he wouldn't have anymore questions.

You're sorely, sorely, wrong.

Two mornings later, the pair of you prepare for some sparring with the swords in the ring. Cassian's purposefully picked one of the heavier ones for himself, broad and long, but he'd put aside a blade for you.

It's smaller, lighter. It reminds you of Heartstriker.

Which reminds you of Azriel.

The mere thought of him has your heart humming, miserable and elated all at once. You're still not sure if you'd like to see him just yet, the confusing twist of betrayal too fresh, but still, some part of you seeks him out, consciously or not.

You want to wander the halls until you find the door to leads to him.

It's because he was your first friend. You reason, as you step up towards the sparring ring. He was the first person you trusted. Was? Is—maybe.

Do you still trust him?

Cassian is already in the ring, waiting as patiently as he can. His rustling wings give him away, even as casual as he looks leaned up against one of the corner posts.

His wings are stretched out, towards the sun's rays that are just beginning to slip over the horizon, trying to steal some of their warmth.

A yawn slips past your lips. The night of restful sleep was an outlier it seemed, the tendrils of a calming, easy sleep stolen away just as quickly.

Fingers curling around the hilt of the short sword, you step gingerly into the ring, eyes casting across to your opponent. You roll your shoulders back, warming up the muscles a bit more, and give your own wings a little shake. A shiver wracks through you in response, the chill of the morning touching on sensitive scars.

"Is there a particular reason Azriel is avoiding you?"

Your head snaps up at the sound of Cassian's voice, cool and calm.

He hasn't shifted, though his wings are tucked back in now. His sword is still relaxed at his side, his worn hand tucked around the hilt of it freely.

The usual chattiness that Cassian has been able to coax out of you these last few days shrivels up. Azriel is avoiding you? You hadn't wanted to see him but this—something curls up inside you, sour and foul. You swallow hard.

"I hadn't realised." You murmur, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into your words.

Cassian blinks and seems to realise his mistake. He waves a hand dismissively, as if it can scratch away his last words. "I misspoke. I believe he is... keeping his distance."

He furrows his brow, face pinched, picking his words carefully. "For your sake." He adds.

You... don't know how you feel about that. On one hand, you're relieved. It's not by pure chance that you haven't seen him yet, it's purposeful—he's keeping out of your way, giving you peace.

On the other hand, something twined in your chest pangs sorrowfully, mourning the distance between you.

While Cassian's presence as an ally (or perhaps, you'll even admit, a friend) is comforting, you'll admit it does not fill the same shape in you as Azriel does. You miss him, quite terribly so.

"What makes you think he's avoiding me?" You ask.

Cassian gives an little shrug, his head tilting to the side just a bit. He smiles in a way that tells you he knows more than he lets on. Or maybe, he simply knows Azriel far better than you do.

"He usually trains in the morning." He explains nonchalantly. "He's taken to training at night since your arrival."

You frown at the new information. You don't want Azriel to be changing things for you, to bend and warp his routines in his home, just for you. You don't want him to avoid you either, even if you're beginning to think you might never be brave enough to face him.

He left you. He was your first friend and the betrayal of that is entirely too new— but you don't know where to draw the line.

You don't know for how long you're allowed to be upset — or how long you can let this go on before you're punishing yourself just as much as you are him.

Flexing your grip on the sword, you stare across at Cassian and when you open your mouth, the words tumble out with warning.

"He..." Your breath hitches.

Something awful hooks into your chest, remembering the way he had folded himself into shadows, away from you. The look on his face.

"He left me. When I needed him more than ever." You admit.

Your voice doesn't waver but Cassian can still see the slight tremble in your shoulders, rolling in. Your eyes have dropped to study the floor of the sparring ring, seemingly lost in the memory.

Cassian's face softens, his heart aching for you. You don't even notice how your own wings have begun to curl in, a soft, comforting blanket around yourself.

It's clear you're struggling to juggle the myriad of emotions that haunt you and he gets it, Mother, does he get it. It had been hard the first time, during those first tentative months of friendship with Rhys, before Azriel was even in the picture. Cassian had one emotion that served him any purpose and that was spite.

Spite kept him alive. Spite told him who to knock down and who to put down.

Friendships and spite are not the greatest combination. When Rhys had done something Cassian had vehemently disagreed with, it had felt like a deception, stinging as badly as the backhand from Lord Devlon, sneering the word bastard.

It took time to undo the messy tangle of emotions, to learn that not all betrayal fell into the same box. That forgiveness for some people was not weakness at all.

So, Cassian asks. "Did he come back?"

You glance up at him, eyes flickering with emotion at the question. After a moment, you swallow and say. "Yes. He did."

Cassian nods. He stretches his wings out a bit and reaches up to push a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

"Alright. How long do you intend to punish him for that mistake?"

You freeze at that question and Cassian can tell he's hit the right spot. You're unsure how long you should—because all you know is that you're hurt. And when you're hurt, you don't know any other way to deal with it.

There's only one pathway ingrained for when someone hurts you. Cassian realises suddenly, Mother help him, that he must try to be good at the talking side of things. He needs to show you there's other ways you can go.

"Because," He continues, not waiting for your answer. "I can assure you that Azriel will punish himself for far longer and far harsher than you ever will. I've known my brother a long time. If there anyone who understands the gravity of his actions and will torture himself over them, it's Azriel."

A hesitant expression shutters across your face, your brows furrowing slightly. Cassian doesn't need Rhys' daemati gift to understand the conflict that's battling within you.

"You think I should forgive him."

You don't pose it as a question. A little bit more of that iciness has bled back into your voice, on guard again.

Cassian can tell that, like him, you don't take well to being told what to do. That's fine; Cassian has no intention of doing that whatsoever.

"I think that is your decision entirely." Cassian says, letting the words breathe so they truly sink in. He watches as your eyes narrow momentarily and then your shoulders relax, sinking down an inch.

"But," He says gingerly. "If you avoid each other, you might never move past this. Might never move forward. It might be worth considering what you really want at the end of the day."

The sun has properly broken across the mountain ridges, no longer just sparse rays. You turn your face, facing towards the warmth. There's still that scrunch between your eyebrows, betraying your deep thought, but Cassian has said enough for now.

He moves his sword and taps the end of it against the stone, a soft steel ping grabbing your attention. You whip your head back to face him and Cassian grins, raising his sword.

"Enough talking. More fighting."

You smile, a little hesitant but entirely genuine, and raise your sword in response. That's one thing you're sure you know how to do right.

[NEXT PART: FRIENDS (AGAIN)]

tags below!

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco

@iamjimintrash @maendering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee

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[atlasdoe]

hiii, have any unpopular hcs on some characters not well talked about in the marauders era? i literally adore they way u think (specifically not the main groups) :))

HELLO!!!!

when it comes to the unknown characters it's hard to say what's exactly popular and what isn't but to my knowledge these are some headcanons i have that are unpopular :)

(also by the "main groups" i'm going to assume you mean the marauders, skittles, snapes gang and lily, mary and marlene so i won't be speaking of specifically any of them in this post but if you want any hcs for any of them let me know :)

ik a lot of people like to group them all together and call them the "amethysts" (which i'm so curious to know how that name came about) and i am so not onboard with this hc i can't lie 😭 i do not think they were all friends with each other or that they even all spoke to each other

I only really have hcs for two friend groups for the majority of them

Edgar Bones, Amelia Bones, Fabian Prewett & Gideon Prewett (i call them the blackbirds because they're all hufflepuffs and their patronus' are all birds) and they're also friends with Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn and Pandora Ollivander

Emma Vanity, Florence Greengrass, Septima Vector, Bertha Jorkins and Aurora Sinistra (i see these girls as like the IT girls of Hogwarts and 2 years above the marauders)

the rest i obviously see as having friends but it's less organised friendgroups if that makes sense

some other unpopular headcanons i have

- Benjy Fenwick was a Slytherin and his parents were death eaters (his father agreed with Voldemort but his mother didn't and told Benjy to earn Dumbledores trust so that he could escape the death eaters)

- Emmeline Vance was not alternative/emo (and i've been seeing a lot of Emmeline being friends with Evan Rosier and I literally have no idea where that came from and hate it (sorry to anyone who likes it)

- Edgar and Amelia didn't have pink/dyed hair. Their family was very conservative and there's no way they would've gotten away with that

- Hestia Jones was a Ravenclaw (i see a lot of people hc her as a Hufflepuff) and kind of a mean girl. She was very headstrong and blunt

- Benjy Fenwick and Amelia Bones were head boy and girl in 1976-1977 school year

- Amelia Bones was a lesbian and madly in love with Pandora Ollivander but never told her how the really felt because she knew Pandora didn't feel the same

- Amelia Bones also figure skates

- Sybill Trelawney and Hestia Jones are best friends and Hestia is the only person who doesn't call Sybill weird

- Fabian and Gideon Prewett were Hufflepuffs and not ginger (i see them more as a dirty blondeish)

To top it off allow me to use this as an excuse to push some of my fave ships :)

Emmeline Vance & Edgar Bones (MY BELOVEDS)

Hestia Jones & Alexander Stabbins

Florence Greengrass & Aurora Sinistra (even though i hc that Florence cheats on her and it ruins their entire friendship group)

Camelia Solis & Dahlia Fleur-Peri

Amelia Bones & Pandora Ollivander (tho as i said i never actually hc that they get together)

Benjy Fenwick & Caradoc Dearborn (these guys are pretty popular but i had to include them)

Gideon Prewett & Septima Vector

I'm having trouble coming up with any others the are specifically going against the more popular version of these characters that i can say without me going on a two day context rant 😭 for now i hope it's enough

thank you so much for your ask and kind words, if you want to know any hcs for specific characters/groups/ships just let me know i'm more then happy to rant about any of these guys <3

[egoat]

magic da gathering - how to play sealed

hi gamers. ff mtg is coming out soon and i wanted to recommend trying a prerelease event for yourself if you're at all interested in the set. prerelease events play the sealed format - you'll open 6 booster packs for yourself, and from those cards build a 40-card deck and play three rounds of best 2 out of 3 magic against other gamers burdened with the same responsibility. i think sealed is a great & fun way to experience magic, particularly if you haven't had much experience before -- it's casual and for fun but has a degree of depth to it that allows you to be as competitive as you want to be (you do generally earn additional booster packs for each round you win). if you're just learning the game, ppl are likely to be patient with you and talk you through anything you're confused about or help you with the deckbuilding process. these events are hosted at local game stores and u can locate most of them with this website - https://locator.wizards.com/.

that said, sealed can be a bit intimidating if you have no experience doing it, whether you're new to magic or you've mostly played commander or online or whatever, and it can be frustrating not knowing how to win or make the right calls about deckbuilding at first blush. i want to just go over some of the stuff i've picked up about what you're looking to do in sealed, mostly "common knowledge" advice from a variety of sources. if you're looking for more comprehensive or specific advice, try the channels good morning magic and tolarian community college who always release specific videos about sets and videos talking through the deck building process closer to the prerelease date. also, everything i'll talk about is more or less directly quoting the podcast limited resources which covers a lot of how to play limited magic like draft or sealed. if you've ever listened to an episode of that there's no need to read the rest of this.

also ill assume you already know basically how to play mtg, lots of other resources to learn that if you're looking into it

to start with the basics, sealed is a format where you'll make a 40-card deck from your card pool of six booster packs of 15 cards, 13 of which are actually cards as one is a basic land and one is a token or art card, so 78 cards. your ideal sealed deck will look like 23-25 nonland cards, and 15-17 lands. lands are always provided for you so don't worry about bringing them. (you can build a deck of any size, 40 is only the minimum deck size, but it is recommended to adhere to the minimum to give you the best chance for smoothness and drawing your best cards.)

most stores will give you a time period of about 50 minutes to build your sealed pool, so if you want to be a bit efficient about it, as you're opening your pool, take the time to separate all your cards into piles by color (5 for each color, a pile for multicolor, a pile for colorless cards like artifacts, a pile for lands). as you're doing this, take note of any cards that may particularly draw you to one color or color combination. a useful tool for this is understanding rarity - a given booster pack will have seven common cards, three uncommons, and one to two rares or mythic rares. these rarites (neigh) are denoted by the color of the set symbol by the typeline in the card, black for common, silver for uncommon, gold for rare, red for mythic rare. take note of any rares or mythics you open, as well as any particularly powerful / attractive uncommons you want to play - a generally good principle of draft and sealed is to try to include and play your rares wherever possible.

once you've separated your pool, you want to narrow down which cards you actually want to play. it is very recommended you play exactly two colors. this should give you the highest chance at playing your best cards and minimizing the chance that you won't get to cast your cards at all - fixing for mana in three or more colors with only basic lands and random pieces of fixing is challenging and can lead to you having non-games. additionally, these sets are built to support this - all modern magic sets have "draft archetypes", particular strategies that are supported across two particular colors and have a number of cards that are designed to work well together within that strategy. the full breakdown for the archetypes in ff isn't out yet, but a printout of what the archetypes are and what they're all about will be in your sealed pool. one archetype they've already talked about in previews is red-white equipment. the idea being, if you open up your sealed pool and choose to play red and white cards from it, you're going to have a number of cards that are equipment, benefit from you having equipment, and work to convert having equipment into a strategy to win the game. one useful tool in identifying which archetype might be best for you is "signpost uncommons". these are cards at uncommon rarity that are generally two colors and signify what the draft archetype is all about, and will work well with other cards in that set, acting as the glue that will sort of solidify your strategy.

as an example, in the last set tarkir: dragonstorm, kishla skimmer was a particularly good signpost uncommon. its an on-rate creature that will benefit you with card draw if you have a strategy that involves other cards leaving your graveyard, such as cards with the harmonize mechanic or renew mechanic in the set. on its own, its a perfectly decent card, but uniting it with its archetype is what pushes it over the edge and can give you a winning advantage.

sealed is a unique experience as you often will be presented with a nearly equal grab bag of cards from each of the 10!! archetypes due to the random nature of booster packs, and its up to you to determine which of those you can make the best pile out of. this can lead to a lot of hard decision making and can lead to choice paralysis in even the best / most experienced players, i.e. opening one good black-white rare and one good red-blue rare and having to choose which one to build a deck around. there are some basic principles of what you're looking for from your sealed pool you can rely on - cards you're looking for over other cards - and knowing which of those you'd prefer to have and what colors are giving you a better selection of those cards should help you make that decision.

the basic principles of limited magic are - curve out - in other words, concentrate your deck on easily playable cards, including a large density of cards in the one to three mana range, in addition to a smaller top end of four to six mana cards and avoid seven mana or more cards unless you can truly justify their inclusion. - fill the board - include at bare minimum 15 creatures in your deck, and ideally more, around 20. limited gameplay revolves around combat and not being able to have a blocker or attacker on the board can lose you the game before it starts. include cards like utility artifacts or enchantments at very low quantities if at all, and focus on maximizing your board presence - have a win condition - have something your deck is trying to achieve, and work to build your deck around that goal. if you want to win in combat, prioritize higher power and toughness creatures, include combat tricks. if you're looking to play a "control deck" of sorts, then make sure you have a reasonable amount of answers to your opponent's threats, and don't forget threats of your own to seal the deal. if you want to deploy a seven mana bomb to win the game, ensure you have enough removal to survive the earlygame, ramp to get to seven mana, and even card draw effects to ensure you draw lands and your bomb in a timely fashion. this can also just refer to having synergies, particularly those in line with the draft archetypes i've talked about earlier.

these ideas are a little vague, but in terms of deckbuilding you can narrow down what you're looking for to ensure you're achieving those goals. what you're looking for in your deck are bombs / build-arounds, removal, value & card advantage, and synergies. i'll also talk about utility / fixing which isn't as much of a must-include. bombs covers cards that are at the rare or mythic level (usually) that offer exceptional value, impact on the board, and fit into the category of "cards that win the game". in the particular set i'm talking about, this is going to be a number of legendary creatures that are main characters from video games. following the principle of you want to include as many rares in your deck as possible, these are the cards you'll want to include above all others and also work to make sure your deck can cast and work well with. for example, if you get a legendary creature that benefits your other creatures most, you'll want to prioritize including more creatures and things that help you build a wide board to ensure that that card can function. this is what build-around refers to - a great card that can win the game, just not necessarily completely on its own, as it requires you to build your deck around it in some way to function. there's a lot of different degrees to which something can be a build-around, so i'll go over two examples.

this card falls into the category of "signpost" for an archetype i talked about earlier - it needs other enchantment creatures in your deck in order to be anything other than a 3/5 (with several great stats). if you open this card and no other enchantment creatures in the colors of green and white, i would not prioritize building around this card - but if you can generate some synergies with it and include at least two or three of the saga elementals from the set in a deck with this card, it becomes an incredible finisher.

on the other hand, there are some build-arounds that may seem tempting due to their rarity and potential, but are not possible for a limited deck to achieve. this is a card with a tremendous ability to win the game (i will not show the backside here as it is a spoiler for the game final fantasy fourteen but trust me) but requires the condition of having fourteen or more cards in your graveyard. this is unfortunately not a condition you are going to be able to meet in limited - this falls into the category of a card designed for constructed formats, in which you can ensure that your entire deck is built to mill yourself and achieve this end result. without having this upside, this is simply a very decent creature that provides a repeatable loot effect which is certainly desirable, but one i would not recommend building a limited deck around. there are going to be a number of cards in this set at rare and mythic that fit this category - it can be a bit of a heartbreak to not include these flashy expensive cards in your deck, but just keep in mind limited mtg has different gameplay priorities and limitations that these cards aren't designed around, and also you can sell them for probably 10 bucks so its not too bad.

also along the lines of identifying powerful rares and mythics, keep in mind this set contains a bonus sheet you may or may not find cards from in your pool. these cards have flashy borderless concept art jpegs on them and are reprints of cards from throughout mtg history that are not legal in standard but are legal to play in your sealed deck. you will frequently want to play these cards as they are generally of a high power level , although some of them fall into the category of not fitting with limited in particular.

the next category ill talk about is removal, referring to a range of cards that deal with or answer your opponent's threats. this can include direct creature removal, artifact/enchantment removal, counterspells, discard effects, and even combat tricks. this is an important principle of mtg and is as important in limited - having some way to disrupt or deal with your opponents gameplan is as important as having your own plan to win. you can make an aggressive limited deck with no removal cards, but it is highly not recommended - the potency of creatures and bombs printed is such that a single great rare coming down on your opponent's side of the board can completely turn the game around, unless you have some way to deal with it.

in limited, your options for removal are far different than you may be used to out of constructed formats. you may open colors with no removal in them at all, and you will frequently have to rely on conditional removal, fight spells, combat tricks, or very inefficiently costed commons as tools that you should regard as valuable in limited as swords to plowshares is in other formats. you'll still want to evaluate the actual use cases of cards worthy of inclusion - for example, twin bolt is not a particularly good card from tarkir dragonstorm. you should prioritize including any unconditional removal you find, such as banishing lights or murder type effects, and reasonably include as many other pieces as you feel is appropriate for your deck - two to three is considered a good amount.

value is a bit more of an ambiguous category. it will come down to your personal evaluation of the cards in your pool that generally aren't rares, but fall into the catchall of "things you're looking to do." a given sealed pool is going to have a huge range of cards, & it's going to come down to your knowledge as a player to identify which cards in the colors you've identified provide more value on cast than the others. consider the mana value of a card, particularly remembering you want to prioritize creatures at low mana costs. consider if the card provides card advantage in any way. this can be as simple as drawing you additional cards, but can be more abstract. magic is a game about cards against cards, in many ways - a kill spell answers your opponent's creature card, so you've traded one card for another. a card like doomed traveler, for instance, is simply a 1/1 that creates another 1/1 (with flying) when it dies. this too is card advantage - you've generated two "cards" - creatures, though one is a token - out of one. also consider cards like "flametongue kavu" card advantage - you can play it, eliminate one of your opponent's creatures, and have a creature for yourself - two cards for one. its important to remember that card advantage isn't the end-all be-all particularly of limited - a board full of 1/1s is still inferior to your opponent's single 6/6 with trample. but just evaluate the rate of your cards and what they provide for you in the game. a great example is the "job select" equipments in the set. these are somewhat inefficiently costed at the lower rarities, but they provide great value. they are in themselves creatures, and you can consider them as such when you include them in your deck, and they provide a continual advantage after that creature has died, as you can re-equip it to give your next creature an edge.

one aspect of value is synergy, as the value of a card is frequently going to be dependent on if the rest of your deck enables it. i already talked about this with yuna, but it applies to a variety of cards particularly at common and uncommon - you're going to see effects that check if something is true, like if you have a +1/+1 counter on another creature, and then reward you for it, such as drawing you a card. synergies range from game-winning strategies to occasional curve-fillers - just identify what is going to have the greatest impact on the board, evaluate how easy and possible its going to be for your deck to achieve it, and trust in the heart of the cards or whatever.

the last thing to touch on is utility / fixing - a variety of cards that aren't going to be the most exciting thing you'll open in your pool, but can be a healthy and sometimes greatly advantageous inclusion in your deck. it is important to rate fixing - cards that find you lands, either putting them in your hand or on the battlefield, or cards that generate mana in some other way - much higher in limited than you would any other time. your mana base is likely to be bad, and even playing two colors carries with it a risk that you might want to consider correcting. having a card that can find you your next land drop is a great advantage and can prevent you from falling behind on mana, or being unable to cast spells with specific color pip requirements. additionally, if you're drawn to play three colors, i would recommend doing so only as a splash - ideally, play primarily cards of your primary two colors, then include one to three lands of your tertiary color to allow you to cast perhaps a three-mana rare creature bomb in the late game, and then include cards that can find you lands, or generate mana of any color, to allow you to cast that card. other kinds of utility are risky to include. generally, stay away from including anything that doesn't provide board presence or creatures in some way, such as artifacts or enchantments that don't interact with the board, or provide a specific synergistic effect that isn't likely to come up in the rest of your card pool.

there's a lot else to talk about in terms of sealed, and i didn't go over any examples of talking through deckbuilding or anything, but there is lots of other resources out there. if you've never played sealed before, like i said i highly recommend it and the magic community is generally not scary or caustic a lot of the time, and i recommend stopping by an event where there will be judges, store staff, and helpful ppl who are willing to help you with the process. i can make additional poasts or address any qs fr but this post is too long and has covered a decent amount. goodbye forever and good luck

[shmowder]

I have no intention of stealing the show from squirrel anon (if you're reading this, I'm always happy for your ideas about Yulia, luv u <3), but since today we have a fair of unprecedented generosity I want to add something from myself. I have a weak spot in the form of using foreign words in speech and accents. Which characters could use this as a seduction tactic? I'm not hinting at anything, but Andrey could very well purr in Italian I assume.

🧡 anon

That invitation to share ideas was meant for everyone, not just squirrel anon, dw you're more than welcome here!

Andrey, the self-proclaimed renaissance man, will purr in any language in takes for you to part your legs and make space for himself in-between.

He'd recite French poetry in your ear before switching to Italian and whispering absolute filth about how he plans to take you like no man before him ever did, like no man before him ever will.

He will ruin you for every else, you will never be satisfied with another lover after laying with him, mark his words.

It's easy to forget how smart he is, quick to learn and adapt to new language. That man will spend one night with you, hear you slip up and say a word in a different language–maybe your mother tongue—and spend the rest of the week studying it in his free time. Picking up just enough words and general understanding to confidentiality talk dirty to you with it in bed.

He can be a romantic as much as he can be crude. Calling you his muse, his eurydice or even his slut.

Andrey is not afraid of deliberately targeting your kinks. Noticing the way your breath slows down when his voice gets lower.

The way he enraptures you whole by purring a different language against your neck, reciting foreign poems while leaving hickeys down your collarbone, sucking against your senses skin. As seductive as the devil in all of his earned confidence and seamless charm.

-

Aglaya is another character that comes to mind. Inquisitors need to be resourceful and knowledgeable, picking up a foreign language or five must have been mandatory in her training. They're problem solvers, they must be ready to sent wherever they are needed.

She was simply sharing one of her favourite poems with you, a fitting one for the current trial she's facing. It was in a foreign tongue, yet she smoothly recited it, a crisp pronunciation on the first try.

The effect it had on you, however subtle, doesn't pass her by. In a split second she puts two and two together, while 99.9% assured in her conclusion, she still tries to test her theory.

Taking one, two, three steps forward, invading your personal space just enough, tiptoeing the line of intimacy. She asks if you'd like to hear another piece from the same poet, your eager nod confirms her suspicions.

Aglaya adds that the content of this poem is rather sexual, it wouldn't be appropriate for her to speak it out loud in a cathedral now, would it?

So why don't you get closer, allow her to whisper it in your ear. Feel her lips brush against your earlobe, her warm breath tickling your neck for a second, her arm securely wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place by her side.

You're breathless after this one simple act. It's fascinating to her how intense your reaction is to mere foreign words.

The price of the next poem is a kiss. Let her cup your face and indulge in the taste of your lips for her heart's content, pour all of her usually stifled emotions into it.

For the one after that, she asks to feel your heartbeat, to lay her hand against your chest, directly atop your ribcage, and listen to the fragle organ pumping blood. You feel her hands roaming up and down your body.

It gets her off, don't worry about it.

Now how about the two of you move this to her private residence?

[sloanesallow]

The Call of the Void | Chapter 2

Shy girl meets distracted boy. Chaos ensues. This is my "canon" retelling of Siobhan Sloane and Sebastian Sallow's story. (full synopsis here. Chapter Summary: Sebastian finds himself in the middle of a gossip session at the opening feast. Chapter warnings: Discussions about blood status, bigotry against muggles/muggleborns and use of the m word, as well as some misogynistic comments. [Ao3] | [Wattpad] [PREVIOUS] | [NEXT]

II: R u m o r s

“Did you hear about Cooper and Weasley?”

“Which Weasley?”

“The older one, with the red hair.”

“They all have red hair!”

“Well, then—the taller one! Anyways…Adelaide told Evangeline, who told Samantha…”

Sebastian Sallow is not one to pay attention to gossip.

As enthusiastic as the chattering girls at the Slytherin table are, rumor and hearsay simply do not align with his pursuit of knowledge. No, Sebastian very much prefers facts—the truth. One might argue that gossip is knowledge, the kind that can be used as currency to climb the social ladder. It’s certainly how many of witches and wizards within the Ministry of Magic earned their power, but Sebastian isn’t interested in social politics or participating in the student hierarchy that is as fickle as a Hippogriff.

Instead, Sebastian focuses on his studies. He is by no means a perfect student—and the record number of detentions is proof of that enough—but he is knowledgeable, and always manages to score well on tests and practice O.W.L.s, despite his behavior. He’s always been a curious boy, something his parents fostered, and something his uncle chastises. All the more reason to keep his nose in a book, if only to keep his parent’s memories alive, and antagonize uncle Solomon—even if it means sleeping in the storage shed behind their Feldcroft cottage as punishment.

This year, however, Sebastian has even more incentive to hide himself away in the library, and it has nothing to do with getting a head start on next year’s N.E.W.T.s. He glances up from the book spread out before him, frowning at the empty space on the other side of the table where his twin sister Anne should be. No doubt she’d be excitedly gossiping away with Grace-Pinch Smedley and Violet McDowell, but Sebastian wouldn’t mind because it would mean she was here and healthy at Hogwarts, instead of cooped up in Feldcroft with uncle Solomon.

Cursed.

This year, Sebastian is determined to find a cure, regardless of the sacrifices he must make. No matter the cost to his own well-being, or how many more detentions with Professor Binns he’ll need to endure, he will find a cure for Anne.

It is precisely why that instead of paying attention to anything Headmaster Black is saying as he monotonously welcomes students to the opening feast, Sebastian is reading his latest find, a book procured (and definitely not stolen) from Tomes and Scrolls. At least he is trying to read, but it is already difficult enough to translate Latin, harder still when all he can hear is girlish giggling.

He glowers at the pair. “Do you mind?”

“Do you?” Grace scoffs, rolling her eyes. Sebastian supposes she could be considered pretty, if she wasn’t such an arrogant snob, all because of her family name. “Only you would bring an old, smelly book to the sorting ceremony, Sallow.”

Violet’s expression is just as conceited. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit with the Ravenclaws instead?”

The two girls look over their shoulders and Sebastian follows their eye lines to the next table over, a proverbial sea of blue. One of the Eagles, Amit Thakkar, notices the group and eagerly waves. Grace and Violet swivel back, not even bothering to stifle their snickering. To his left, there is a soft smirk, and Sebastian turns to see his friend—his best friend—Ominis Gaunt, biting back a grin.

“Et tu, Ominis?”

“They have a point,” he replies, tilting his head in a way that signifies he actually wants to hear what the Headmaster has to say.

Sebastian grumbles, pressing the lower half of his face into his palm as he rests his elbow on the table. He keeps his eyes on the text, but he isn’t really reading, especially when Grace and Violet return to their blathering.

“I heard there’s to be a new student at Hogwarts this year.”

“There are new students every year.”

“Yes, but this one is starting as a fifth year.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, not that he means to eavesdrop, but it isn’t like they are whispering.

“A transfer student then,” Imelda, to his right, decides to join in on the conversation. Reyes isn’t typically one for rumors either, but it seems her curiosity is piqued.

Grace shakes her head. “My father, you know he works at the Ministry, he said that she only received their owl this summer.”

“She?” Violet and Imelda seek to clarify.

“Mmhm,” Grace nods, obviously enjoying being the momentary center of attention, the one to share such important information. “A farmgirl, so I’m told. Can you believe it? She’s a muggleborn.”

If Grace meant to whisper the last word, she’d done a piss-poor job. Sebastian frowns into his palm at the various disapproving expressions on his house-mates faces. Even though he is a so-called pureblood wizard, he’s never been one to form an opinion of someone based on their blood status or family name. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for many of his classmates, raised up to ostracize anyone who goes against the status-quo.

“Great,” an older boy seated next to Violet murmurs. One of the Malfoy brood, always quick to share a bigoted opinion. “Another mudblood.”

The derogatory word rings in Sebastian’s ears, but doesn’t seem to bother the others. He clenches his teeth, staring down at his book until the word magicae becomes more foreign than it already is.

“How fun,” this time it is one of Black’s sons, grinning like the devil himself. At the other’s speculative looks, he continues with a laugh. “Muggleborns are fun to break, if you catch my meaning. They haven’t a clue about wizarding society, and thus are so easy to seduce and scandalize,” he explains. “They make the best virgins.”

“Oh will you please just shut up!”

It isn’t until the group is staring at him that Sebastian realizes he’s said anything. His outburst seems to surprise even Ominis, whose eyebrows are raised in alarm. He flounders for a moment, muttering something about indecency that goes ignored. This time, he tunes out their chatter with a sigh.

Crude as their discussion is—not that he wants to call it a discussion—it isn’t like Sebastian hasn’t thought about…well, what hot-blooded, puberty stricken teenaged boy doesn’t think about sex? He isn’t naive enough not to notice the changes to his body and mind, and how the other girls in his year and above are more alluring than usual. His education on the matter is as secondhand as his other extra-curricular research, though the restricted section has some tantalizing selections, enough to fill his imagination and keep him sated, for now.

It simply isn’t a priority to snog or shag, not now. Finding a cure for Anne is far more important than bedding someone. Besides, it isn’t like he has a line of potential romp-mates waiting in a queue. Not that he has a poor self-worth, but Sebastian can’t see himself being on any of his classmates lists as a potential suitor, let alone someone to fumble around with in some secret part of the castle. He has too many burdens and is perhaps, at the end of the day, just plain weird.

“Well if she’s starting in her fifth year, she can’t be that talented,” Imelda says, and as rude as the comment is, Sebastian is almost inclined to agree. Most witches and wizards gain their magic in adolescence. For him and Anne, they were nine, making toads float in the family garden. “Wait, is that…her?”

Distracted by the conversation, none at the Slytherin table (expect perhaps Ominis, with his wand to see for him) noticed Headmaster Black’s abrupt disappearance and return to the Great Hall. More than a few paces behind him is Professor Fig, followed by a girl. Everyone, including Sebastian, sit up a little straighter in an attempt to catch a glimpse, but it isn’t until she’s at the front dais that her form is clearly visible.

“Merlin,” Imelda whispers. “She looks petrified!”

Sebastian is intrigued enough that he inspects the girl as well as he can from where he’s sitting. The farmgirl, as Grace so eloquently called her, admittedly does look worse for wear. Her pale-blond hair is disheveled and the standard house-robe seems to weigh her down. As she’s instructed to sit on the rickety stool to be sorted, it’s obvious to see her hesitation. Her wide eyes stare out into the sea of unfamiliar faces and—

“Has she been crying?”

“She looks like a wet kneazle!”

Grace and Violet lean into each other in a lame attempt to mute their amusement. Sebastian glares at them, biting his tongue to prevent another outburst. He can’t help but think back to the first time he ever arrived at Hogwarts with Anne, the two unwilling to let go of one another’s hand until they were forced apart to be sorted. She had gone first, claiming her birthright as the older twin (and alphabetically came first anyways), and was quickly sorted into Slytherin. Sometimes Sebastian wonders if the Hat showed him some mercy by sorting him into the same house so they wouldn’t be separated.

Cruel fate would see to that.

“Better be…Hufflepuff!”

The sudden cheers from the other side of the hall pull him from his melancholy thoughts. So the new fifth-year is a Hufflepuff? The badgers cheer for their newest addition, and Sebastian thinks it is for the best—a nervous chit like her wouldn’t last a day in Slytherin, or Gryffindor for that matter. As she slowly makes her way to sit with her new house-mates, Headmaster Black continues his speech as if the interruption never happened. Imelda curses and almost stands to loudly disagree when it’s announced that Quidditch is canceled, but Nerida Roberts tugs her back down. 

Curiosity has Sebastian flicking his gaze through the throng of students, locating the new girl where she is seemingly making awkward conversation with Poppy Sweeting and Lenora —Merlin help her.

Ominis leans a fraction closer. “I believe her name is Sloane.”

“Sloane?” Sebastian repeats. Ominis nods once, providing nothing more. “Hmm.”

He shrugs, sparing one last look at the Hufflepuff table before finally refocusing on his book.

The new fifth-year—Sloane—she is of little consequence to him.

[fountainpenguin]

"Turn your face towards the sun... Let the shadows fall behind you..." (x)

---

Debut of Criminal Experience today! || Short Story

Chapter 1 - “Wanted”

Read on AO3

Basically a series prequel... Li'l bit Hermitcraft, li'l bit Traffic SMP, li'l bit Naked and Scared

---

Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo has never been one to take sides during war. He tends to his llamas, trades freely with his neighbors, and his doors are open to all.

Fellas, is it spoon behavior to not ask more questions when a burned-out phantom hybrid starts hanging around your llama farm? 🤔

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

Criminal Experience ᓵ∷╎ᒲ╎リᔑꖎ ᒷ ̇/!¡ᒷ∷╎ᒷリᓵᒷ 392,861 Minecraft days before Dog's Life

Buzz and Ursula Uno don't know it, but they are (without a doubt) the most pampered llamas in all of Little Sun Valley. Yeah, that's right! He said it: Anywhere in the valley. That even includes the west side of the river, and you best believe he's digging in his heels on that one, mate. His wheat farm's been cranking out results this year… so much so that every time he checks its drops, he's practically up to his armpits in fresh hay. Took ages of iron collecting to craft all the hoppers, but Mumbo earned every bar of that stuff while still adhering to the valley rules of 'no non-essential harm done to passive mobs,' and he counts that as a win.

Double-U and Buzz are spoiled. He'll just say it. They've got the softest, driest straw and he switches it on the daily. He's got glowstone for heat tucked in one corner of every pen and he drops silk touch'd ice blocks in their water to keep it fresh and chilled. Surely even good parents are allowed one or two favorite children, yeah? As long as it's kept under wraps and all that.

I mean, come on… Just look at them. Heh. Even when it's nail trimming day, they can't stand to be apart. They're like two scoops of raw cookie dough, marbled brown and cream fur bundled together in a nest on the dirty floor. Which is… peculiar, actually, seeing as Impulse supposedly swept the barn out while Mumbo took the llamas down for water. Mental note. What's that man been up to?

"Foot," he says, and Double-U plops her pad in his lap. It scatters soil all over his robes, but he can forgive the dirty floor. Impulse went above and beyond this weekend already with the crops. You know, it's not every year a man who'll voluntarily harvest uncraftable blocks for hours just stumbles into your life… Actually, last night Mumbo offered him a few stacks of emeralds for a hard day's labor, but Impulse only laughed, sticking his thumbs in his overall straps.

"What? Can't a guy just want to lend a helping hand?"

And, well… He's a phantom hybrid, so Mumbo let it slide (Phantoms are safe to talk to; it's allay hybrids you don't want to make open-ended deals with). Actually, it's nearly noon. Impulse should be coming up the hill from the farm in just a couple ticks… hopefully with clover and alfalfa in hand. Alfalfa is a massive pain to farm since the rain will wash the redstone dust out sooner than you see it grow, but luckily, he doesn't need much. It's a special treat he'll lightly thread into the feeding trough… because Buzz and Ursula Uno are still the most pampered llamas in all of Little Sun Valley. Possibly the whole Between dimension.

Now, will their glorified loafing shed of a barn win any points for flair? No.

Was his use of maple wood in this build even a little bit unique? Also no. But maple's abundant - maple's efficient - and an entire village of wandering traders can't all be wrong.

Actually, Mumbo thinks, lining the edge of his shears against Double-U's toenails, out of every player hybrid type… I feel like wandering traders must be the MOST knowledgeable people when it comes to block qualities and how well they hold up in certain types of weather. Is that too big of a pat on the back? He's really not that kind of guy. It's just… you know… He and his friends have spent their whole lives swapping stories.

The maple mountain biome is always soaked in rain, but the residents of Little Sun make it work. When the ground's too moist for proper farming, the whole community gets together to lead the animals up the plateau. Everyone pools their harvests and they get by on what farms they still have. Mumbo's spent a solid 600 fresh, clean wet seasons (at least) in the shade of the tweenstone spawn temple, swapping stories and laughing until his stomach hurts. Because even when the rain rinses redstone dust off the farms, everyone in Little Sun still has each other. They have their llamas. They have community.

And when all else fails… they can always go out wandering.

Good fun, that… but some days are meant for sitting on dirty barn floors. Is there any better way to spend a morning than cleaning the toes of the most beautiful llamas in the world, occasionally bouncing ideas for silly redstone ideas off their heads?

"Uh-oh," says a voice at the door. Ah. Mumbo still doesn't have a name for that type of accent, but he definitely knows the man from his volume. Double-U's ears flick up instantly. Mumbo keeps trimming her toenails with gentle brushes of the shears. He doesn't even have to use the F5 cam to know Impulse is hiding behind the barn door, peering around it like a twitchy cat. Mumbo can almost hear the way he hunkers, knees shifting to a crouch. He's got wheat, yeah, because it flutters and whispers when he clutches it to his chest. "Uh… dude? Is that the llama who hates my guts? Or the one who just wants to headbutt me into the void?"

Double-U gets a slithery rumble in the base of her throat. This stirs Buzz into lifting her head and Impulse jolts again.

"No! What? Oh, come on! You really have to have both the llamas who wanna trample me in there?"

Mumbo chuckles. "Double-U's all right with you now, I reckon. I mean, yesterday she let you get within spitting range."

"Yeah! So she could spit." Impulse says the word like it's some sort of ancient curse. Mumbo listens for the scrape of shoes on creaky floorboards, but they never come. Tsk, tsk… Double-U would never hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. Llamas can sense these things, you know. "My pixels were fritzed for three hours before I got that stuff out."

"Did you really come all the way up here thinking there wouldn't be llamas in the llama barn, mate?"

"Just bringing you wheat," Impulse mumbles back.

[Cnt'd on AO3 - Link at top]

[txbanjarahills]

Best Oncologist in Hyderabad | TX Hospitals.

Introduction

In the fight against cancer, the expertise and compassion of oncologists play a pivotal role. TX Hospitals in Hyderabad proudly houses a team of distinguished oncologists, each renowned for their dedication, skill, and commitment to patient care. Among these esteemed professionals, Dr. U. Azadh Chandrashekar, Dr. T. Vishal, and Dr. Syed Murtaza Ahmed stand out as pillars of excellence in their respective fields of surgical and medical oncology. Let's delve into their profiles and discover why they are revered as the best in their craft.

Dr. U. Azadh Chandrashekar: Sr. Consultant - Surgical Oncologist

Dr. U. Azadh Chandrashekar is a beacon of hope for cancer patients grappling with surgical intervention. With a wealth of experience and expertise in surgical oncology, Dr. Chandrashekar has earned widespread acclaim for his precision, proficiency, and patient-centric approach. His dedication to utilizing the latest surgical techniques and advancements ensures optimal outcomes for his patients, while his compassionate demeanor provides solace and support during challenging times.

Dr. T. Vishal: Sr. Consultant - Medical Oncologist

Dr. T. Vishal epitomizes the epitome of excellence in medical oncology at TX Hospitals. Armed with extensive knowledge and a profound understanding of cancer treatment modalities, Dr. Vishal is at the forefront of delivering personalized and comprehensive care to his patients. His ability to seamlessly integrate cutting-edge therapies with compassionate patient management sets him apart as a leader in the field, offering hope and healing to those battling cancer under his care.

Dr. Syed Murtaza Ahmed: Sr. Consultant - Surgical Oncologist

Dr. Syed Murtaza Ahmed's expertise in surgical oncology is matched only by his unwavering commitment to patient advocacy and empowerment. With a focus on delivering patient-centric care and fostering trust-based relationships, Dr. Ahmed goes above and beyond to ensure the holistic well-being of his patients. His surgical skills, coupled with his empathetic approach, make him a trusted ally for individuals navigating the complexities of cancer treatment.

Why Choose TX Hospitals for Cancer Care?

Comprehensive Multidisciplinary Approach: TX Hospitals adopts a multidisciplinary approach to cancer care, ensuring that patients benefit from the collective expertise of oncologists, surgeons, radiation oncologists, nurses, and support staff.

State-of-the-Art Infrastructure: Equipped with state-of-the-art facilities and advanced technology, TX Hospitals offers cutting-edge diagnostic and treatment modalities to optimize patient outcomes.

Patient-Centric Care Philosophy: At TX Hospitals, patients are not merely medical cases but individuals deserving of dignity, respect, and personalized attention. The hospital's patient-centric approach prioritizes holistic care and support, encompassing emotional well-being, financial counseling, and community outreach initiatives.

Conclusion:

In the realm of oncology, TX Hospitals in Hyderabad stands tall as a beacon of excellence, thanks to the stellar contributions of Dr. U. Azadh Chandrashekar, Dr. T. Vishal, and Dr. Syed Murtaza Ahmed. Their unwavering dedication, clinical expertise, and compassionate care embody the ethos of TX Hospitals, offering hope, healing, and renewed vitality to cancer patients and their families.

TX Hospitals is one of the best hospitals in Kachiguda, Uppal, and Banjara hills with the largest healthcare facility and the best team of doctors and specialist surgeons to help patients recover fast from health ailments.

For further information or inquiries, please reach out to us at 9089489089

[thecameronchronicles]

The Maid

TW: semi-public sex. Language. Slight degrading language. Smut.

SUMMARY: You work for the Cameron’s, but Rafe means to make you work for him in one specific duty…

WORD COUNT: 750

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

Hii can u do a fic where the cameron's hired the reader as their maid, and she has the biggest crush on rafe... so yk how some maids wear those short dresses and like stockings, maybe she teases rafe in them and yk keeps bending over in front of him while she's "cleaning" and he sees that she's wearing a thong & so he can't take it anymore and fucks her 😳

The Maid

You couldn't help but feel those flickers of excitement in knowing he watched you. Those blue eyes trained to movements that were productive for your occupation but a torment to him throughout the day. All because you were a hired hand to maintain the Tannyhill estate, dressed in stockings and a skirt that left nothing to the imagination as you bent over to gravity. And it wouldn't matter what time of day, what activity, or even what mood he was in, as the sight of you in this uniform was enough to garner his focus and endorse a desperate cock to its painful throbbing. 

"Behave." Ward teased Rafe as he noticed the gazed he'd given you as you feigned disinterest in the comment. But the second you were alone, Rafe sat in the armchair in the living room, in perfect view of each of your unnecessarily seductive bends and twists until all that remained had been his nearly empty whiskey and the knowledge of a thong brought to view. 

"Hmph." He groaned, finishing up his drink, setting it loudly on the table, and forcing you to turn to face him gorm the sound. But you weren't able to even stand fully upright before feeling his hands position you over the edge of the couch. 

"You want to tease me? Hmm? You wanna tease Rafe Cameron? Let me show you what that leads to, yeah?" You were stuffed as he bottomed out, the only mercy having been that of his fingers to your clit. But it was in more of a tease than a focus as you felt him focus primarily on himself. 

"I've behaved myself for weeks watching you dress like this...don't you think I deserve something for it?" You nodded. 

"Then get on your knees. Do what you do best...and clean." He motioned to his cock as you took him in stride, having wanted this since you were first hired. Just as you were a distraction to him, he was just as much of one to you. But it wasn't until now that you were able to feel the fantasy come to life. And for that, you would allow him anything as long as it promised his touch as well. 

"Rafe..." You moaned around him, crying and gagging, as he withdrew you from him. 

"You want some relief? Hmm?" You nodded quickly as he scoffed. 

"Do it yourself. I've earned this. You didn't want to keep your hands to yourself. So don't." He smirked as you carried your own pleasure, his grip tightening on your hair before you were taken to the wall, lifted around him, and sunk down on his cock. 

"This what you wanted walking around like that?" 

"Yes..." 

"Oh yeah? This how you imagined it?" 

"Mmmhmm..." 

"Then do what I imagined and beg for it. Let me know you REALLY want it. And maybe I'll give it to you..." Your eyes rolled in pleasure as he quickened his paces. 

"Such a good little maid, aren't you?" You nodded before his thumb finally claimed your clit. 

"For me." He spoke to himself as you nodded. 

"Come. For. Me." He spoke with complete dominance. 

"Come on, you're shaking like a fucking leaf and It it’s making me need to come...but I won't until you do-" His hand wrapped around your neck as he spoke against your lips. 

"Come right fucking now or you don't get to-" Your body arched at the wall as he used that new slick from your release to pound into you, sending your bliss in extention, before setting you to your feet. Dropping his fingers back to your sex, you apprehended his wrist. 

"Rafe!" 

"Now you're gonna squirt for me. I'm not asking twice- shit, I shouldn't have to ask once." Your body was immediately familiarized with that coming release, even if brought forward by overstimulation. His touch pumping into you as his thumb made work of your clit and you were left in tremors from the spurt of your squirt. 

"Now clean this shit up, I'm not going to explain to my father how he hired a whore for a maid..." He took his fingers behind his smirk, his crass word only deepening your lust, before you were left 'doing what you did best' and cleaned up the mess he made of you.

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @bethoconnor @belcalis9503

[silversatoru]

i made this instead of doing my stacks of homework ^

step bro!itadori yuuji x f!reader

synopsis: i don’t think i even have to say this but you get stuck in a dryer and your step-brother yuuji fucks the shit out of you

t/w: 18+!!!, aged-up yuuji, stepcest, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, filming without consent, mild impact play, creampie, mild overstimulation, mild dumbification (but also reader is just dumb), mention of masturbation

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: hey!!! i joined this super fun collab hosted by my new gf @suna-reversed​ (thank u for letting me be a part of it!!) so if you enjoy this i highly recommend checking out the rest of the talented writers in this collab :) the jujutsuhub masterlist is here !! also,, biggest thank u my lovely friend @brandmeyelena for helping me to plan and perfect this fic throughout the entire process <333

you were a good daughter, certainty not the sharpest or the most intelligent, but you were helpful and compliant and you always did your chores. and you truly didn’t mind helping out around the house either; sweeping the floors and doing the dishes was easy enough, but there was one task that plagued you a bit more than the rest — doing the laundry. the buttons were just so confusing, and there were so many of them! and on top of that, your short stature made it nearly impossible to empty the fresh clothing out of your top-loaded dryer. 

you were struggling with that exact issue right now, pushing onto your tip-toes as you tried to reach that last pesky sock stuck at the bottom of the dryer. your finger tips brushed over the warm fabric, just an inch short of being able to snatch it into your hand.

you wiggled your hips a little further, your feet lifting off the floor and your weight shifting so you fell deeper into the dryer. you were finally able to grasp the sock, but you were unable to push yourself back out, feet swinging wildly as you tried to squirm your way out of the machine.

“hey, what are you doing?”

your face flushed at the sound of your step-brother’s voice coming from behind you, your senses becoming suddenly aware of how far your dress was riding up your thighs. a pitiful whimper of embarrassment slid past your lips as you realized you couldn’t even pull your dress down — you needed both hands to hold you up and prevent you from falling into the dryer. 

“ah! yuuji! ...i got stuck,” you pouted shamefully, thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now.

“again? isn’t this like... the third time?” he asked it like a genuine question, but you still felt stupid for getting stuck in the same predicament multiple times.

“mhm, can you help? please?” you whined at him, still wiggling your hips in a poor attempt to free yourself.

this only made your dress slide higher, the underside of your ass cheeks becoming prominently visible against the edge of the fabric. yuuji couldn’t help himself, gabbing his phone and snapping a few secret pictures of your exposed back-side. he planned to save those for later, maybe jack off to them if he was bored, but then a different idea flooded his head — you were no position to stop him from doing whatever he wanted right now.

he propped his phone up on top of one of the various laundry baskets, starting a video recording without your knowledge. then he waltzed back over, sliding a single finger under the fabric of your dress and tracing his finger around your round ass cheek. the sensation of touch made you flinch, your mouth gaping open as you fumbled over your next word.

“y-yuuji?” you stammered, trying to move away which only caused your ass to jiggle and shake more than it already was.

“shh, i’m helping,” he murmured, stroking his finger all the way down to your thigh.

he moved his other hand over your pretty cunt, the fabric of your panties hugging perfectly against your folds. he brushed two of his fingers up your clothed slit, causing you to yelp and continue to wriggle around.

“step-brother? what are you doing?” you continued to question him, your voice light and laced with confusion.

“i’ll help you get unstuck, but you have to repay me somehow, little sister,” he clicked his tongue at you, an evil grin that you couldn’t see stretching his lips.

he continued to poke and prod at your soft, clothed pussy, his mouth salivating as he imagined the things he could do to you in this position. every brush of his fingers coaxed gasps and whimpers from your lips, your worries and protests falling on deaf ears.

“y-you’re my brother, yuuji! w-we can’t do this!” you continued to argue, but his gentle fingers were starting to feel really good — small streams of fluid flowing out of your cunt and seeping into your panties.

“it seems like you want me to,” he observed, poking his finger at the small wet spot that was forming now, “and mom and dad won’t be home until later. no one will find out”.

you felt his strong hands weave their way underneath the straps of your undergarments, swiftly pulling them down your thighs and letting them dangle from your ankles. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of your wet cunt being exposed to the cool air, shifting your hips and filling yuuji’s head with more sinful ideas.

you couldn’t see anything (with your head still being stuck in the dryer) but you heard your brother’s own pants fall to the floor, a loud clank of his belt buckle against the tiles confirming your suspicions. everything about this felt so wrong, but at the same time, you’d always been shamefully attracted to yuuji — eyes lingering on his chiseled chest for a little too long when he walked around the house shirtless.

your head was swirling with thoughts like: would it really be that wrong if the two of you indulged in each other while no one was around? it’s not like you were actually blood related or anything.

on the other hand, yuuji had a one-track mind, and he wasn’t having any of the doubts that you were — he had a tendency to listen to his dick instead of his brain. and right now your round, plump ass was staring him in the face and begging to get fucked. how could he not take advantage of this opportunity?

he lifted his hand and gave a firm slap to your right ass check, earning a gasped yelp from you which made his dick twitch and strain. he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘i’ve always wanted to do that’ but it was kind of hard to hear from the depths of the dryer.

he’d used a reasonable amount of force, a puffy handprint forming on the surface on your skin. he decided that the other cheek should match, delivering another firm strike to the other side and watching you squirm and whimper at the impact.

he grabbed his phone and pulled it over for a few close ups, showing off the swollen skin to the camera. he then placed a finger at the front of your entrance, the puffy, slick walls sucking it in as he delivered a few warm-up strokes with his hand. the camera picked up on all the grotesque squelching noises made by his finger in your cunt, as well as the embarrassed yelps and moans leaving your lips.

now that you had two matching, swollen hand prints, and your pussy had been properly prepped, he decided he was ready for the main course. yuuji returned his phone to its spot on the laundry basket before grabbing a low stool from the corner of the room and setting it in front of the dryer so he could stand on it for easier access. his cock was red and veiny, begging for entrance into your tight cunt as he wrapped one hand around it to position himself.

you’d always imagined your step-brother’s dick to be lengthy, and your assumptions were proven correct when your felt a tight pressure in your core. his girthy size pushed and stretched at your walls, pained mewls leaking from between your teeth as you clawed at the bottom of the dryer.

yuuji let out a groan that was almost animalistic, throwing his head back and placing a firm grip on either side of your hips. the way your pitiful form was positioned on the dryer gave him excellent access, the curve of his dick allowing him to stretch you deep, reaching all the way to the spongy patch of tissue that made you feel so good.

a jumble of grotesque noises filled the room, a chorus your sloppy moans, yuuji’s pleasured grunts, and the steady slap of his hips on your ass. he’d imagined what this would be like more times than he could count — fucking himself into his fleshlight and mumbling your name while he did so. but no matter how many times he’d dreamed of this moment, he never expected your walls to be so tight — so perfectly snug around his cock.

“yuuji!” you repeated his name a few times, head so dazed from the overwhelming bliss that you’d forgotten all about the initial guilt you’d felt.

“see, i knew you’d like this, little sister. your big brother would never steer you wrong, would he?” he knew his words were manipulative, but god, you were much too dumb to understand or grasp the concept of manipulation — you’d just agree with him like you always do.

“no! he would never!” you whined, letting your head dip lower into the dryer so he could fuck you at an even better angle.

your messy cunt squelched and squeezed a small stream of juices down your thigh as he picked up a deeper, faster pace, your moans becoming higher and more unsteady in response. he could feel your sloppy walls fluttering and constricting against him, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he let out a few breathy moans.

the tip of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot with every stroke, voiding your brain of any cohesive thoughts you might have had hiding in there. you moaned and whimpered over and over, whining yuuji’s name like a mantra as drool spilled from your lips.

yuuji could almost imagine your perfectly fucked-out face — your eyes rolling into your head and your mouth hanging open lazily. he grunted at the thought, deciding that the next time he fucked you it was gonna be somewhere that he could watch your face and really enjoy the show — because there was definitely going to be a next time.

there was a tight coil forming in your stomach, building up more and more the longer that your step-brother railed himself into you from behind. you hardly even noticed how sore your hips were getting or how numb and tingly your legs were from being bent over the dryer, yuuji’s dick filling you up so well that those things became an afterthought.

after a few more pounds to your oozing cunt that hit deep enough to graze your cervix, you felt a heightened wave of pleasure begin to crash over your body. surges of the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt racked through your systems, your whines becoming borderline screams as yuuji fucked you through your orgasm.

the way your warm, messy walls fluctuated and gripped around his cock pushed him close to his own climax, but he wasn’t quite ready to be done with you yet. he continued to provide heavy, forceful thrusts, abusing your now sensitive cunt and moaning loudly as your juices squelched out around the edges of your entrance. the disgusting sounds of your fluids squeezing out around his cock nearly sent him over the edge again, but he was determined to ride this out for as long as he could.

“it’s too much!” you wailed between heavy breaths, every stroke sending jolts of overstimulation through your clit.

you wiggled and whined, legs clenching together in defense and causing your pussy to wrap even tighter around yuuji’s dick. the added pressure and increased pleasure was something he could no longer surpass, succumbing to his own orgasm just moments later.

“fuck, feels- too- fucking- good- shit,” he grunted a long string of mostly profanity, emptying his hot release into your caverns as you continued to cry out and whimper underneath him.

yuuji had fucked you even stupider than you already were, your head way too dazed for you to even realize he was filling your insides with warm, sticky semen. he milked his orgasm all the way through and then some, his cock aching and twitching by the time he finally pulled it out of your white-stuffed cunt.

he wrapped his toned arms around your waist, finally pulling you out of the dryer and attempting to stand you up. but between the lack of blood flow to your legs from being stuck, and the good fuck yuuji had just given you, your lower extremities were in no shape to hold you up. you sunk right to the floor, your messy pussy spilling everywhere and leaving puddles of fluid and semen.

“thanks for helping me get un-stuck, big brother,” you looked up at him with admiration, blissfully unaware of how he was using your utter stupidity to his advantage.

“of course, you want me to carry you to bed?” he gave you a sympathetic look, squatting down with his back to you.

you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his muscular back. he carried you down the hall and into your room, laying you down and handing you an old towel for you to clean yourself up with. you were a pitiful site, hazy eyes and an ignorant smile resting on your face as yuuji admired your damaged little cunt for a few more moments before returning to the laundry room.

he grabbed his phone and ended the video, thankful that you were much to oblivious to notice that it was recording the entire time. he was definitely going to hold onto the recording for safe keeping and later use — and shit, maybe he’d even upload it to pornhub and make a quick buck too.

[mooniefics]

— personal punishment

pairing : nanami kento / fem reader

word count : 1.8k

tags : pnp, degradation, authority kink, office sex, semi-public sex, boss / secretary, nanami literally being the sexiest man to ever live and breathe

warnings : nsfw, power imbalance

summary : He couldn't expect you to be perfect—but he could definitely expect you to pay for each imperfection in more ways than one.

notes : thank u so much to @suna-reversed for hosting the incredibly creative jujutsuhub collab and allowing me to participate !! much love (୨୧•͈ᴗ•͈)◞*♡

you couldn't exactly say you weren't proud of your performance today.

for one, you'd come into the office late, knowing that your penalties would be formally waived by your boss but well aware that you would have to face his own personal punishment. it was just your luck that this very day was the most busy the office had been all month, leaving you running papers back and forth from your boss' office for hours, nearly tripping over your own heels three times too many before you even reached your lunch break, praying that you weren't screwing anything else up in your frantic rush.

but before you could even think about escaping the confines of the office building to make up for your missed breakfast at a cafe nearby, your boss was already calling back into his office. you already knew exactly why he was requesting your presence, fear and anticipation immediately tangling into a heavy knot in the pit of your stomach. but still you went, obediently as you always did, keeping your head low as you passed your coworkers in the hall.

your fate had been sealed the moment you made a mistake, the same outcome that had been repeating for months now each time you made an error, whether it was as small as not taking the trash out from the waste bin when it was too full for his liking to something as grievous as spilling his morning coffee all over one of his pristine white button-ups. for any and all errors, you were certain to face this punishment.

the position you were in wasn't unfamiliar, bent over nanami's desk, pencil skirt hiked all the way up to your waist with your underwear around your knees, completely at the mercy of the man caging you in with his body from behind.

"if you keep making all that noise, you're going to end up getting us both fired." he growled, voice low in your ear, one hand still pressed firmly over the center of your back, forcing your chest down onto his desk. the other was occupied between your legs, two thick fingers plunging mercilessly into your needy cunt as you struggled to hold in every whimper and moan each snap of his wrist drew from the back of your throat.

"'m s-sorry, s-sir..!" you barely managed to breathe out, nails beginning to scrape at the edge of the wooden tabletop, teeth digging almost painfully into your bottom lip.

"'sorry' doesn't even begin to fix everything you've fucked up today," his stern tone persisted, ribs aching between the pressure of the heel of his palm and the hard desk, "you know just how much stress i've been under and yet you went out of your way to make it worse."

"no, n-not that..! p-promise!" you whimpered, breath coming in pants, struggling to not rock back into his hand with the knowledge that he'd stop entirely if he noticed you doing it.

you had no choice but to keep your eyes trained on the door in front of you, thighs trembling with anticipation, muted gasps and mewls managing to find their way out into the open air despite your efforts. you knew he didn't mind the noise as long as you were making a conscious effort to keep quiet, only loud enough for him to have the pleasure of hearing, only expressing the pitiful broken attempts at showing remorse that seemed to arouse him to no end.

he curled his fingers to rub at spot inside you that made your knees weak, barely chuckling when you writhed under him. "enjoying your punishment like this... you're just a pathetic slut. That's all you'll ever be, isn't that right?"

Your head hung low as you came over his fingers, shuddering, biting firmly at the inside of your cheeks to hold back the whine threatening to escape your heaving chest. you knew you should be ashamed to be so excited in the face of his cruelty, but when it was his voice and hands—discipling you harshly but still paying such good attention to you and your body—you couldn't help yourself.

before you had enough time to begin catching your breath, you could already hear the clinking of his belt buckle as he pulled it free from the belt loops of his pants, the warmth of naked skin as the length of his cock met the back of your thighs, already hard. the hand resting at your back slid up to rest at the base of your neck, fingers working their way into your hair to firmly grasp, holding you still while he eased himself between your thighs.

"please, s-sir.." The words spilled out of you before you could even think to maintain your obedient silence, earning a tug at your hair harsh enough to jerk your head back, arching your body further.

"snd who are you to be making any demands?" He muttered scornfully, the head of his cock now rubbing directly over your dripping pussy, making no effort to do anything more than painstakingly tease.

"i'm not, i j-just—" You sucked in a quick breath as you felt a sharp sting over your ass, certain there was a reddening welt where his hand had just struck it, "i pr-promise i'll be better..."

"and how can I be certain that you actually will? you say the same thing every damn time, and you still have yet to show me any improvement."

your eyes watered as you searched for a proper response, stammering over your words for just a moment too long—long enough to reignite the anger you'd found a momentary mercy from. you just barely pressed your hand over your mouth in time to muffle your own cry as he slammed himself inside of you, the desk shifting across the ground with a harsh squeak, insides struggling to accommodate his size all at once. he found a quick, ruthless rhythm of thrusting almost immediately, paying your quick gasps and pitiful whimpers no mind, almost painfully deep.

"is this is really the only thing you're good for?" he huffed, groaning lowly despite his apparent ire, "just taking cock and nothing else?"

"n-no!" you protested, barely able to hold your voice steady enough to respond, swallowing down each hiccuped breath interrupting your words, "this is the l-last time, i swear..! p-please sir, please—"

he shushed you harshly before you could continue, large hand rubbing over the aching flesh he'd previously slapped in a silent threat to repeat the action. you wouldn't be entirely opposed to feeling his large hand strike you again and again, leaving prints of red across your skin that wouldn't fade until hours after you'd left the office for the night, but you knew that you still had the entire second half of your day ahead of you to pretend as if he hadn't completely ruined you just meters away from the rest of his hardworking employees.

"at this point, i might as well just be paying to fuck you." he muttered callously, the speed of his hips slowing the slightest bit, each thrust still hitting deep enough for you to feel in your stomach, "then what does that make you, hm? a prostitute? my personal little plaything.."

you strained to vigorously shake your head side to side, fingers aching from how tightly they were clenching around the edge of the desk, your own arousal trailing down between your trembling thighs, hot tears dribbling down your flushed cheeks. you should've felt more inclined to deny his assertion, to prove yourself to be more than just a toy for him to used whenever he desired, when he needed to take out the pent up frustration he saved for your errors and your errors only—but you knew in the back of your mind that you were perfectly content with your position, as immorally lucrative as it was. you would embarrass yourself everyday for the rest of your career if it meant you could experience this at least once more.

"sorry, s-sorry..! oh fuck, sir, 'm so sorry!" the apologies you knew he loved so much spilled from your lips in a pathetic, broken moan, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as you held out for a few more mind-numbing moments before cumming around his thick cock.

you barely registered his hand grasping your hair painfully tight as he grunted a few low curses beside your ear, shakily exhaling a sigh when he emptied himself inside you, finally letting you rest back against the hard surface of his desk while you both caught your breath. it was all over far too soon, the intense intimacy that never lasted longer than the half-hour of your lunch break, even though you were sure he could steal you away for far longer without anyone daring to question him.

you wiped at your damp under-eyes with quivering hands, trying to not further disturb your already ruined mascara, swallowing down a whimper when pulled himself out of you and tugged your underwear back into place, readjusting your skirt for you before moving away from your body entirely.

he had already tidied up his own clothes by the time you pushed yourself to stand, that familiar expression of cool indifference having already resettled onto his handsome features. he barely ever let you see his face when he was disciplining you, always making sure you were facing away from him, or that you couldn't lift your head enough to get a good look at his face. it made it all feel so impersonal, inspired something that felt like sadness in the back of your mind, despite how you tried to remind yourself that what you had wasn't true intimacy, and that he could really replace you any day if he felt so inclined to do so.

"go clean up in the bathroom." he said without looking at you, straightening his tie back into place and checking the time on his watch, "you will need to take a call from a new client soon, and it is imperative that you give them the perfect first impression of our company. i expect you to be back here within the next ten minutes." his brow furrowed, the look of someone who'd just thought of something unpleasant flashing across his features when he finally met your gaze. "no more exceptions today."

"yes, sir." you replied obediently, voice hoarse, quickly turning away before the weight of a sudden sadness could show, advancing towards his door as briskly as your state allowed you to. you didn't look back on your way out, even though you so desperately wanted to, maybe deliver a genuine apology now that you knew he was genuinely irritated with you.

but you didn't, and the day continued as it always did, phone calls and document filing keeping you occupied for the rest of your shift, not receiving another word from your boss regarding anything. you tried not to take it personally when he didn't bid you farewell before leaving the building, reminding yourself that it was most likely just the pressure of a busy quarter, cursing yourself for screwing things up and enjoying your momentary bliss before the true consequence of genuine disappointment from nanami anchored you back to the somber reality of your situation.

it was foolish of you to think you'd be anything more than a secretary in his eyes.

[baecvlt]

KAITO BREEDING KINK WITH A C H U N K Y AFAB READER,JUST A SMIDGE OF PUDGE(Please I'm so self conscious)

Kaito Momota x Chubby AFAB!Reader

a/n: ...

*screaming internally cause I love me some Kaito and I FEEL you on the self-consciousness aw)*

warnings: well breeding obviously. also the slightly notion of the reader perceived as motherly. + mention of pictures taken without readers knowledge

• • •

You were never skinny, it always bothered you. Understanding that being chubby wasn’t bad, it still did. It made you feel ugly. There were days where you felt thag you couldn’t even look in the mirror. It was that bad. It sure as hell surprised you when your now boyfriend of a year had asked you out, Kaito Momota.

Regardless of his height being taller, you still felt bigger than him. Being vocal of your insecurities, he made sure to reassure you when he heard them. “God, no, baby,” he’d say to you,“You’re beautiful”. He’d smother you in kisses to reassure you. Still, you felt he was slightly repulsed by your physique.

The reality was quite the opposite.

He loved that about you.

There was something about having a bigger s/o, well, chubby s/o that drove him insane. It was just something that gave off a motherly feeling and what can he say? He loves milfs (canon btw). When he first saw you, he thought you were so cute. He dare not act sexually attracted to you, though. Once he did, you thought he was joking and then told him you were insecure about having sex.

So, nothing happened.

He isn’t completely innocent, though. Sure, he won’t express how sexually attracted to you he is in front of you, but it’s different behind closed doors. On your second date you worse a skirt, one exposing your thighs. That was all he thought about. Don’t get me started on beach day. You were dating for 8 months at that point, he waited for you to come out of the bathroom.

“I’m sure you look fine!”

“No! I look terrible!”

“Just come outtt. I’d like to actually spend my day with you”

“Okay, just—I’ll get out in a bit. You go set up”

Kaito had gone to set up your spot, laying down on a sheet he had laid out on the sand. “Hey, I’m here now”. He looked at you and felt his throat dry as you stood in a white and yellow polka dotted two-piece. “Can you hold me so people don’t see me as much”. He eagerly nodded, desperate to have his hands on you. As the day went by, he was able to sneak some photos of you. When he got home, he lay back in bed: cock in one hand and your photos in the other.

He craved you after that day.

Now, you were home and he came to visit. “Hey, baby,” he greeted you and kissed you. “Hiii”. You went straight to the room, cuddling in bed while a movie played on TV. Neither of you had seen it, but it’s not like you were really watching it either. You two were making out, so lost in each other. You decided it’d be best to try something new.

“Can I try something?”

“Sure, go ahead”

You straddled him, Kaito grunting when you landed. “Just let me know if I’m crushing you,” you warned. He nodded, but when you leaned down to kiss him, he nearly gasped, covering his mouth and part of his face. You, for the first time ever, were on his lap, and it wasn’t helping that you had a low cut blouse on.

So just, boobs in his face.

He was shuddering, so you assumed the worse. “I knew it, I’m too heavy,” you mumbled,“I’m sorry”. He grabbed your waist before you could, his hands were shaking. “Can I be honest with you?”. You nodded.

“You’re actually making me really hard right now”

“H-Huh?”

“I need to fuck you. I need to feel you over my cock. I-I want to breed you”

You were blushing. A lot. “Kaito, you shouldn’t say such things,” you whispered,“Especially when you don’t mean them—”. He knocked you over onto the bed, pulling off your shorts. He realized that you weren’t going to believe him unless he proved himself. He got between your legs, kissing your thighs. “K-Kaito,” you sighed, your heart racing as he got closer. He was having the time of his life. “You’re so warm and so soft,” he muttered, taking your panties off,“Your pussy, it’s so pretty...can we try something?”

“Uh, okay. What is it?”

“Can you sit on my face?”

“What?!”

“I’m begging you. Please, just sit on my fucking face”

You blushed. “I’ll crush you for sure!,” you told him, he still didn’t care. “Baby, please”. You eventually went with it. Its not that you didn’t want to, you just genuinely believed you’d hurt him. He lay down and you got into the position. “Is this okay?”

“Lower”

“Okay...How’s—ah!”

Before you could even process anything, Kaito was already lapping up your folds, eating you as if your pussy was the Last Supper. Your moans and soft whimpers fueled him to have less mercy on you. You then noticed the tent he was pitching in his jeans. Quickly, you bent over, undoing his button and zipper. You pulled his cock out, quickly putting your mouth over it. He groaned against your pussy, locking around your thighs. “Are you enjoying yourself, baby?,” he asked, placing kisses on your clit every now and then.

“Hah- Yes..”

“Get off now”

You did as you were told, laying down. He spread your legs and held them up. “I’m going to destroy that pretty pussy,” he whispered before slamming right into you. He groaned softly feeling how wet you were around him. This was just what he wanted, it was also just what you needed. His hips were good to you, just as he was good at reading you. Based on how noisy you were, that’s how he’d fuck you. He would try hitting different spots, finally finding the one that made your whines grow louder. “You like that, don’t you?,” he teased, holding your jaw.

“I-I...”

“Mmm, just ease into it, baby. God, you’re so pretty..”

“Kaito, I-”

“I love every inch of you. Fuck, it makes me so hard..Your body is just so hot. I’ve wanted to have it all for myself for so long. I needed it”

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, he winced slightly as he felt himself closer to cumming. “S-Sorry,” you whined, but all he did was shush you. He kissed you, which helped shutting your apologetic self up and also tasting your kind lips. After feeling that he’s kissed you to your heart’s content, he grabbed your legs. Pushing them back, he thrust harder into you. “K-Kaito! Y-You’re gonna make me cum...,” you whined.

You were in ruins as you hit your first climax, but he wouldn’t be finished when he hit his. You felt his first load shoot inside you, flipping you on your stomach after. He thrust into you without warning, holding your waist. His fingers dug into your skin and his hands were cold. “You’re so soft,” he muttered. Kaito’s face was terribly flushed. His face was red and he knew he wouldn’t last long inside you, but he wanted to keep filling you. Your body was more than he had ever imagined. When he jerked off, he took his time. It usually took him about an hour and a few minutes to finish. Now that he was inside you, that time was going to be cut by half, if not, more.

You tried your best not to cum so quick. Especially, for a second time. Yet, you were already so sensitive and you couldn’t hold it in much longer. The feeling of Kaito grabbing your waist and slamming into your spot was too much. “K-Kaito?”.

“Yeah?”

“Can I cum?”

“You don’t needa ask me. Relax”

He held your hair, tugging it slightly. He was ramming into you at full force, his hips slapping against your ass. Your stomach immediately sank and you felt like you were falling. You were a mess of moans, your walls pulsating around his cock. He grunt, thrusting faster as his load shot into you. You came right after that, now his loads inside you enough to feel. You fell onto the bed, he joined you. He caressed your cheek. Panting, he asked,“C-Can you go for one more?”. You knew your body was going to be in a state of shock tomorrow, but you wanted him so bad. You nodded and he kissed you.

“I’ll take it slow, but I need you on top of me again. You’re gonna ride me now”

You almost moaned at his words and now extremely nervous. “O-Okay, lay down”. You got up and straddled him, positioning yourself above his cock. Slowly you lowered yourself, letting him penetrate you. His breath was sharp as he covered his face. He was in deep, using his last bit of strength to stop himself from immediately bucking his hips and fucking right up into you. “I-Is this okay?,” you asked him. It was more than okay to him. He nodded, now quieter than before. “I’m gonna move now, okay?”. He nodded once again. You slowly rolled your hips as he was inside you, stimulating yourself a little. He suddenly didn’t know where to put his hands, although he wanted them to be everywhere at once. Eventually, with one hand covering his mouth, the other grabbed your thigh. Now, you were ruining him. He was so shy and so quiet.

You’ve gotta admit: it was kinda cute.

You began to raise you hips, just a little, then dropping back onto his cock; earning a moan from him. He was resisting the urge to fuck you to the next day, but it was getting so hard to do so. Without saying a word, he pulled you torso down. Your tits in his face, he began to suck on your nipple as his free hand pinched and played with the other. You whined, riding him a little faster, grinding down a little when you landed. It felt even better since you were filled with his cum and awaiting another load.

Now, you wanted him to fuck you and you wanted him to fuck you hard. “K-Kaito, I need you to fuck me,” you whispered,“Make me yours, please. I need it to ache”. Without hesitation, he let his hips break and slam right up into you. He bounced you as he wrapped his arms around you almost in a hug. You felt buildup in your tear ducts as he kept hitting your sweetest of spots. It wasn’t fair, you thought. How he was able to make you feel so good.

That’s when you began to explore him. As he fucked you, you lowered yourself more to kiss him. You kissed his nose, focusing on his lips for a bit. You then brought your kisses lower. He loved when you kissed his neck, but that wasn’t his spot. You brought your kisses a little bit higher. As you did, his breath hitched and you knew you were getting closer. Finally, you reached his jaw. A snicker that broke into a sweet moan escaped your lips as you began kissing his jaw. He gasped, moaning softly. “Gotcha,” you whispered, bitting his ear lobe and kissing his jaw again. You felt him twitch inside you as you did and he kept fucking you harder and harder. Kaito was in pure bliss, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. He was going to make sure to warn you, whilst you didn’t say anything because you couldn’t control it.

“I’m gonna..”

“What is it?”

He didn’t even repeat himself, he just begged you to kiss him. His tongue entered your mouth, refusing to build up to that. His hands placed on your boobs, squeezing them as he came. You moaned, arching your back and collapsing on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and still inside you. “You’re so good,” he said between kisses,“You’re so fucking good”. He held you as you got up and lay next to him, all shaky. He parted your legs, spreading your pussy just to watch his cum spill out. You covered your face and turned around. He laughed and pulled you to him.

“You’re really hot”

“Really?”

“Yes, doll. I love you”

He threw a blanket over the two of you, cuddling nude. You were exhausted, nuzzling his chest. “You going to bed?”. You nodded, eyes closed. He chuckled. “I love you, Kaito...”. You just knocked out like that. “Alright, baby,” he whispered, kissing you,“Sleep tight”.

[kazuhasbunny]

Giiiirl, imagine you are on Baal's side, you are a general and commanding an army against the rebels' own general, Gorou.

You are all cocky and confident, your years of experience just keeping you aware enough so you won't be consumed by your pride. But oh, your face, when after all of those carefully thought out strategies and intensive training, you end up losing to that mutt.

He is insufferable. Even though his face and body is caked in a mixture only war can give-- blood, sweat and dirt, his smile is the biggest, smuggest thing you have ever seen in your life as a warrior. It does not help that you are on your knees, back stretching forward as the grip he has on your jaw tugs you up with such a force you won't ever believe an archer, a long distance fighter, would posses. The bodies of both sides lay scattered on the defiled land, but the purple spots decorate the most, as his last men stand straight and proud behind him, just as yours do, but the lack the attentiveness. Their tired and bored countenance ticks you in a wrong way. Why they don't look happy by this result?

Does your failure was already predicted? As if this end was something that was already calculated. Taken in account.

The man holding your jaw in a bruising grip let go of you, a mere blink of respite as the next second your left cheek explodes in pain, your vision swaggers for a second as you fall on your right side from the streght of that blow. You shut your eyes and concentrate on your breathing; the fight left you completely drained, as much as your brain screamed at you to stand up and attack that man, your bones and muscles protested as you tensed in hopes of getting up, but ultimately you only made yourself look pitiful.

Gorou turns to were his men are, his gaze lingering for a second on your laughable attempt. His focus switches to the army as he starts to pace from one side to the other, the victory was already decided, but the energy from the feat itself brought a surge of emotions within him.

Another quick glance at you, and something on his mind switched. He was wondering what to do with you; killing you off felt as a meaningless action, as the Shogun won't care for someone as low as yourself. You only were deployed to fight against them to gain time for the real force, to prepare and learn how strong the rebels actually are. With how confident you looked hours ago, it seems that your benevolent Shogun forgot to grace you with such knowledge before sending you off with a bunch of newly trainees.

"First of all, congratulations, my friends, for this well earned victory" Gorou began. The group of men on front of him quickly acknowledge his words, paying attention to what he had to say.

"Even if the outcome resulted as to what we--" He turns around, your eyes opened when he began speaking. You both made eye contact, and Gorou's smirk transformed into a full smile. Was it okay for him to fill such giddiness at the sight of your equally wounded pride and body? After all, he was the one to bring you into that state, he was the one to put you in your rightful place with just one arrow, kneeling on the dirty battlefield as the geo power incased on the arrowhead did its job in petrify you.

The glint of defeat on, dare he say, those gorgeous eyes of yours really made them stand out. Actually, as he approaches your form, he's starting to see some other appealing features he couldn't notice from a longer distance. What was the Shogun thinking, in even allowing you a spot within her number when you clearly weren't made for war?

"--Expected" his pause brought your attention to what he was actually saying. So they had all of this calculated...

"But now, all that is left to do, is tend to the wounded and take care of the dead. Yours and their sacrifice will bring an end to this stupid decree in no time. We need to prepare for tougher, real..." He gives you a glance "...battles from now on. Don't let this win get in your head"

The crowd quietly cheers between them, some of them patting each other on the shoulder for a job well done. All of that camaraderie made your stomach hollow, as you recognise the same speech you have told to your former men after a battle well fought. Those piercing blue eyes of his made you painfully aware of the consecutive part of giving a victory speech, about what is waiting for the losing side, the pit in your stomach grew in size and you really wished that it could swallow you whole before the man in front of you does.

Gorou thrills in your despair. That pretty face of yours plunging into dark dephts, your mind weaving one horrifying destiny after other speaks a lot of your character, as only those who have layed a cruel end to those before them can conceive. He knows what kind of thoughts those are, but as much of a monster as you are viewing him now, he won't do such a thing. He was quite merciful while deciding what your fate will be, even if he didn't pondered a lot in the few minutes after your fall, you are but only a child with a weapon, sent to die by that horrible woman.

And something he prides himself of, is learning from mistakes. He won't throw away something that can fulfill very well other duties than warfare ones.

"Sir! If I may--" a voice spoke between the masses of helms and spears.

"I know, I know. The general" Gorou waves off his hand, his eyes never stranding away from your form for far too long.

A groan escapes your body as his foot steps on your ribcage, not too hard but your weak body sense as if he had nails attached to the sole, your skin felt cold and as if it was being prickled by a ton of needles. He pushes your your body with a gentleness unexpected from an enemy, until you were lying on your back. The new position put pressure in the arrow wound on your right/left shoulder, your dominant arm, and for a second you were grateful of the rigidness granted by the geo element yet covering half of your arm or else you are sure you would have cried in pain, the last thing you want now is to show more weakness that what you are displaying.

"What I am going to do with her... I didn't know myself when we first begun this battle" Gorou continued. He removed his shoe from your chest to your side on the floor, so you'll be cage between his legs while he looks down on you. His arms crossed across his chest and he tilted his head to the side, as in assessing you, taking on your face just as covered in grime as his but not diminish your beauty in the slightest. He really made a good decision in regard of your fate.

The soldiers stood still, the atmosphere felt heavy like the air on a hot summer afternoon that feels stuffy on your lungs as your breath in. Their general had an unseen aura surrounding him, his usual careless actitud makes everyone forget that there's an animal side to him, although they aren't sure they will presence it for the first time, their captain is definitely switching towards that side... they even feel a little bit of pity for the woman under him.

"But as I see her like this, beaten, it makes me remember something of old, that the victorous usually sow. Can you guys guess what it is?" He squats over you, sweetly combing a couple of strands of hair out of your face.

Whispers break among the army after the question. One of them raised his hand, no barely 18 years old as he was one of the shortest in comparison to his bigger and wider shouldered comrades. The young recruit promptly lowered his arm as the general wasn't looking at their direction but that didn't stopped him from answering, eyes shining with excitement:

"They take something as a token of their victory, sir!"

Gorou hummed in affirmation. "Yes, they did. A spoil of war, if you may"

Dread washed over you. He wasn't going to kill you, as a way to demonstrate their superiority? To be taken as a trophy, a possession... He surely won't mean that, right? They are going to torture you and extract every drop of information that you have, until the last thing left in you is blood to shed on their hands as your usefulness is cut short like your troath.

You needed to say something. Anything, as long as it would arise anger within the young male, anything as long as you aren't degrade far from what you have been.

Gorou raised his eyebrows as you coughed. He wasn't expecting a monologue from you but neither silence. Your sudden wish of speaking made the men jump into action, their spears pointing at you with such terrifying speed made you realise furthermore that this battle was destined to end like this, another stripe to the tiger just like a new blow to your pride.

"Just kill me already. I won't say anything, and if given the opportunity, I will end it myself" you spat. You tried to transmit all of your pain, hate and shame in one stare, you won't go happy until you make that man see what you feel, how big your abhorrence is to his being.

All the males stare in silence, until the general himself chuckled. Your cheeks burn with rage, your teeth clenched together as you tried yo surf this flare of emotions. How dare he laugh like that! He already won and you won't speak a thing about the Shogun, why acting like that? Isn't the rebels supposed to act with nobility and fairness?

Gorou took a breath in. He's happy he didn't went for the traditional route and killed you.

"Aw, now you just proved me correct, sweetheart. I'll enjoy making you into a proper wife"

All of that just to say "Imagine being taken as Gorou's prize and he makes you his whore wife" LMAO

(Also? In the part that reader coughs? I wanted to put that Gorou spits on your lips because you looked thirsty AODJFJDC)

THIS 🙏 yes i’d love to be gorou’s housewife he should really take me in and train me to obey him . please i’d do anything for him

AND pleasee omg ... if u actually put that in i’d die on my chair it’s too hot i can’t hjnhnggrh

[han-shinsuke]

You have been wandering around the corners of their not-so-big library in the apartment you shared with your two eldest female friends, Han and Rei. You’re in deep thoughts when the door bursts open, revealing Han and her sweaty face as if she runs a lap just to get where you are right now.

“Ate Han?” your soft voice rings in the room, instinct picking up the danger Han would spill.

Han gathers a ball of oxygen to fill her lungs, ready to fire the news for you. “I accidentally left my phone at Shoyo’s apartment last night, Luna! Diluc had seen your video! And he is coming—forhhmmmmmppppl—” Han didn’t finished her sentence. Shoyo was fast to grab her away as the man who stands next to him entered the mini library then shut the door forcefully.

“What?” you play innocent and cross your arms, you’ve had been in numerous relationship and you are knowledgeable on how to deal with a jealous man. “I was drunk the other night and it was just a fantasy. Sachiro would never noticed me.”

Two days ago, you had an alcohol session with your friends at the rooftop and you were all drunk but you were the most wasted so you ended up recording yourself telling how you badly needed to be fucked by the celebrity vet, Sachiro Hirugami. That was for fun and you didn’t really meant the words you blabbered about.

“What if he notices you?!” Diluc snatches you from the corner and possessively snakes an arm around your waist. “What if he fucks your dream to reality and takes you away from me?!”

Even in his raged form, Diluc still manages to appeal dangerously handsome and the thought alone is enough to fuel your raging hormones. To his dismay, you laugh at his face, testing his patience. Diluc looks down at you and grabs your face harshly, kissing your seductive lips harshly as well.

You moan in his mouth and he groans in return, other hand groping your round and curvy hips. You comprehend that action as a go, so you jump onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you cling on his neck, taking full control on the hot kiss you shared with him.

“Luna—fuck!” your gaze is taunting as you tug and nibble on his bottom lip. Earning chains of pants and moans that resonates all over the room. “Fuck, baby! don’t make me turn into a beast you fucking tease!” you just laugh at his sentiments and attack his lips again, rubbing your tongue with his as you suckle his tongue and upper lip. Diluc is definitely a moaning mess from the erotic kisses you have been giving him.

You taunt his eyes to battle with yours and he puts a good fight while you are rubbing your crotch against his bulge. His orbs flickers and you know it signifies defeat so you lick his face, his jawline and his earlobes. He moans continuously and you lick him better and much wetter than before.

“You wanna fuck my mouth, Daddy?” such a tease you are. Causing his beast to clench tighter inside his pants. Diluc puts you down and he pushes you on your knees, facing the real deal that is about to come out of its cage.

He kneels with you as well only to grab your face and ravage your mouth with torrid kisses. Once satisfied, he spittles in your mouth and let you swallow his sweet and enticing saliva. You moan sweetly as you swallowed his spittle. Nothing has changed. Still sweet as ever. Chilly yet tastes like cherry.

“Raise your hand if you can’t take it,” Diluc pulls down your off-shoulder tops to have a taste of your sweet and aromatic breast, he suckles the two rosy buds, flicking the tip of his tongue againsts its sensitive tip that hardens whenever he pops on them altogether.

“Ooohhh yes, Daddyyy~” you grab onto his hair and press your mounds tighter on his mouth.

Diluc groans on how tight you hold on his hair, smirking againsts your skin, he mimicks your movement awhile ago, tugging a nipple between his teeth then releasing it with a loud pop.

“Fuck, Daddyyy~ your mouth feels hot on my chest hmmm~” you hum your satisfaction and signal him to stand up, being his good and obedient girl, you volunteer unbuckling his belt and releasing his fat and long cockx that fits so well in all of your holes, especially in your mouth, “fuck my mouth, Daddyyy~ pump your loads down my throat, please, Daddyyy~” your dirty personality overpowers your dignified side. Opening up your sexy mouth for him, you put your hands on your thighs and welcome his shaft by licking its tip.

“Hhnnggg!” you surprise him by clenching your lips around his size, making him use force on you as he slams you down to his hard erection, tip meeting your windpipe in one push.

You gag and salivate on how deep he reaches this time. Calling all the Deities you have ever known, you pray for the fast recovery of your throat that swells roundly from his head.

“Fuck! You, okay there, baby? Hmmm~ Aahhh~Aaahhh~” Diluc bubbles out his moans as he pushes and pulls in your tight mouth, not noticing how pretty your eyes gleams in tears due to pain and pleasure.

Your body jerks with his harsh grip on your hair as he picks up his face, fucking your mouth fast and hard. Shit. That was the only profanity you can scream in your head. As if you have another options to pick, but there were none so, you keep holding on the thread of hope he could only offer.

“Aaahhh~ there, baby! Clench your lips around my cockx, yeah!” you can’t keep hanging on the thread anymore so you lift a hand and Diluc alertness shocks you. He pushes one last thrust but he spills his jizz on your chest and thighs. Strings of saliva flows down your chin and you surprise yourself hearing your own sobs and slow moan. It wasn’t like you felt violated rather, you feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction with the way he moans and pumps himself to cloud nine.

“You good, Daddyyy?” you are tearing up for no reasons when he pulls you up and bends you over the study table. Your buttocks receives multiple spanks and you writhe in pain every time his palm makes contact with your clothed ass.

“Open up, Luna~ I’m gonna fuck you so hard and fill this fucking hold with my jizz, you understand?!” Diluc hisses in your ear then pulls down your denim shorts together with your undies.

“Put your cockx inside, Daddyyy~ punish me for being a nasty girl aaahh!” you squeal when he spanks you again and dives three fingers in your secreting cunt, digits sliding in and out without hindrance.

You press your head tightly on the glass table and tremble with every push and pull of his digits inside you, milking you pretty hard by his hand.

“Ooh, fuck, Daddyyy! Faster aahh pleaseee~” your whole body is trembling from desire yet you keep asking for more, toes curling up like a slut.

Diluc kneels in front of your gushing cunt and he fucks you with his rough and long fingers, and now his tongue and lips joins the show, you are drooling hard when you feel him sucking your folds and the hood of your labia, biting the hanging skin between the slit, you find yourself humping your core on his rubbing mouth as he keeps pumping his fingers.

“Aahhmmm~ fuckkmmm~” still a mess, Diluc moans on your entrance and gives your another hole a lick and inserts his pinky there to plow as well. Your senses heightens, muscles clamping his fingers and tongue at the same time.

“Ooohhh shit, Daddyyy~ I need your cockx inside aaahhh please!” you can’t keep waiting for him to enter your aching cunt so you push his face and earn what you desire.... to be fucked in missionary position.

“Dil–Diluc~ aaahh~ please~ put your cockx inside~” you look so pretty when you plead, who was he to deny his girl of the privilege to be drilled hard so no more pleas, Diluc shoves his full length in your clenching and dripping puss as he grips your waist and devours your lips with his mouth, kissing you torridly and deeply.

You cry his name and he keeps a hold of your waist to give you more shoves and pulls that leaves your cunt aching for rougher and cruel thrusts. You buck your hips higher, urging him to go deeper.

“Baby–don’t aahhh~ clamp my cockx too much aaahhhh~” he groans on your chest but he keeps thrusting in and out, tongue gliding up and down on the hollow between your breasts. Diluc moans louder, tasting his own semenx he spills on your chest earlier.

“Drill my puss, Daddyyy~ ooohhh goshhh~ I think aaahhhh I’m cumming, Daddyyy~” hearing those from your sinful mouth, Diluc sucks on your chest harshly, playing with your both titsx using his teeth.

You moan even dirtier and join his cockx penetrating your swollen folds. You press a finger on your clit and rub fast circles on it while he hammers you fast. Plowing your wetness for the upcoming seeding.

“Higher, Lunaaa~ lift your legs higher, fuck!” you respond to his command, raising your legs higher to stretch you wide ready for his jizz. Few more rubbing and senseless rutting, your walls spasms around his cockx and later on, Diluc drops down above your body, kissing you roughly as he unloads his thick seeds inside your cunt. Your body convulses with his, returning the kiss with more heat and thirst, you can’t help but grin when you feel the warm liquid dripping from your core down to your buttocks.

“So fucking good, baby~ Hmmm~" Diluc pulls out from you and his thing is still hard so you flip on your own, swaying your hips. “You sure, Luna?” he hums in your ear as he positions the tip on your anusx.

“Yes, Daddyyy~ fuck my ass as well, pretty pleaseee, Daddyyyy~” he chuckles from behind and gives your little hole the reward it deserves. A fat and long cockx made for drilling. “Ooohhhh~” your mouth rounds a moan and your hair also receives a harsh pull as he starts pumping you from behind, shaking your peace for real.

“Shit, shit! You are so tight here, Luna! Aah! Fuck, baby!” he tugs your hair again, making each thrust rougher and deeper in your tiny hole.

Your legs started shaking as well so you prod your both palms on the table surface and slam your buttocks against his ramming hips, mixed juice splashing down on the floor as your toes curls again and again.

Another blow and Diluc throws himself on the unending delight of ecstasy. Your legs buckles down but Diluc holds your waist firmly, preventing you from hitting the hard floor. You were pulled closely on his chest, palms rubbing your stomach and wet cunt. His cockx protrudes between your thighs and you can clearly see his remaining cumx oozing from his tiny hole.

“I love you, Diluc~” you pull his head down to your face and kiss him slowly. He was still holding you close when he pushes you again but this time, against the cold wall of the library. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his body, putting the tip on your swollen core, he whispers,

“one more round, baby~”

Who are you to decline such blessings?

[passable-talent]

May I please request a zuko fix where the reader is a huge flower buff (like knows the meanings and names) and is more graceful and peaceful rather than a fighter despite being a fire bender and zuko thinks she doesn't care or take the war seriously and when zuko joins the gang he doesn't see how much she contributes until he sees her taking care of everyone one night and questions the others and learns she in fact is a fierce fighter and he takes her up on a challenge to see for himself

playful fight? where there’s a lil pride involved? but there’s also a lot of pining? hmmmmm

also I love/hate writing fight scenes bc they’re SO FUN but also I’m such a perfectionist (and actually a martial artist so like... I see flaws u know?) that I actually have to get up and act them out and that’s time consuming but also a good workout so whatever ? I guess

you would not believe the amount of flower research in both the avatar and real world I did before going into this ask

this is too much to preface a story with gd I’m annoying but I hope u don’t mind that I was gender nonspecific. It’s a thing with me since there’s like never any male readers on tumblr. so even though you kinda asked for female reader I made it gender nonspecific because that’s what I do I hope it’s ok

anyway here we go!!

Zuko simply did not understand.

The house where his family vacationed was big and beautiful, and a good place to hide until Sozin’s comet. What he never had noticed, until now, were the flowers growing all around the courtyard and the path to the beach. Over the years of disregard, the more exotic flowers had died and been replaced by native life, taking over much more than the flowerbeds he barely remembered the staff taking care of. There were fire lilies, those he recognized, but there were many other flowers that he had never bothered to learn the name of.

Y/N knew all of their names.

He didn’t understand you. He couldn’t figure you out. You were of the fire nation, and a bender, but he had never seen you fight. All you did, as far as he could tell, was pull the others away from danger, settle fights, and tend to flowers that seemed perfectly capable of survival all on their own. It’s not that it bothered him, but it did, because you seemed so absolutely noncommital. Nonchalant. Indifferent. How had another citizen of the fire nation come to the realization that the fire nation was evil, and gathered up the courage to join the avatar, and yet didn’t seem to care about the war at all?

When he’d first met you, he thought you didn’t have much use to the team at all. He thought you just another kid caught up in the war, like the others that were at the western air temple after the day of black sun. But after the brief battle with Azula, he came to see your worth.

“If only we had some Aloe,” you’d murmured as you passed him, on your way to Sokka’s side after he had complained of a sunburn, riding all day on Appa’s back.

“Can we get some?” Katara asked, leaning against the side of Appa’s saddle.

“No,” you replied, “too far away. It only grows near the Si Wong desert, and we definitely can’t go there right now.”

“So what can we do?” asked Katara again, and you shrugged, settling down beside Sokka, on his right while Toph clutched onto his left arm.

“The medical treatment for burns in the fire nation are less advanced then you’d expect. But there’s a few plants that can be soothing- even if not as much as Aloe. If there’s any banana leaf nearby our destination, that may help.” Zuko, though he’d remained silent, cocked an eyebrow in surprise. Medicinal knowledge of plants- that seemed extremely useful, especially given the group’s nomadic behavior. He briefly wished that you had been around while his uncle had had his quarrel with the white jade bush.

More so, though, in the following days he began to see your similarities to Katara- you were kind, and caring, and you made sure that the group was taken care of. You sat through worries and soothed fears the best you could, and that was admirable. You almost reminded him of his mother.

One question was left on his mind. If you were a fire bender- why did Aang need him to teach him firebending?

After you had gone to bed one night, he sat around a fire with Aang, Sokka, and Toph to pose that very question.

“Is it because they’re not a very strong bender? I’ve never even seen them use firebending, they must not be that good.”

“Oh, no,” Sokka said, “they’re actually really good. Probably better than you.” He laughed a bit after his words, earning a punch in the rib cage from Toph, which made Zuko think that Sokka was only trying to tease.

“Really?” He asked, looking to Aang, whose information he’d trust.

“Yeah,” Aang said, “they’re good. But they didn’t want to teach me- said that they didn’t have enough formal training. I think they just didn’t want to be that violent. They’re a pacifist, like me.”

“I could see that,” Zuko said, gazing into the fire. In his fingers he twirled an orange cyclamen, which you had given him before you’d gone to bed. When he’d asked why, you had responded that ‘it was a flower without meaning*, and the color reminded you of him’. He didn’t know what to do with it now, though, before he went to bed. He didn’t want to toss it in the fire, as that felt too heartless, but he knew it was dying now that it was picked. So, when he stood to return to his room for the night, he crouched by one of the overgrown flowerbeds and propped it up in the soil.

Maybe, from its turmoil, it would grow roots and live. Or maybe it would die surrounded by the beauty of the other flowers.

After spending all night wondering the true extent of your prowess, when morning came Zuko decided to find out.

“Spar me,” he said, catching you alone in the courtyard. “I need to be reminded what it’s like to fight a fire bender, and I’ve been told you’re quite good.” You let a little quirk of a smile onto your lips and turned to face him, tilting your head.

“You sure? What if it hurts your pride?” He shook his head, expression stoic as ever.

“It won’t. Either I’ll beat you or I’ll learn.” You took off an outer layer you’d been wearing and, carrying it, made your way toward the beach.

“Good way to think about it,” you said, laying down your jacket on a stone just outside the entryway. But as you straightened back up you planted your forward foot and flashed your other foot up and across, sending an arc of flame toward the prince. He quickly noticed that the game had begun and diverted the flame to his left, sliding his foot into a strong stance before punching flames toward you. By this time you had completed your spin and dove out of the path of his fire, rolling onto your feet and into a tight stance, your hands at your chest. You took them to your left, then swung them to your right to add momentum to your spin, lifting your feet from the ground for a round kick that sent another arc of flame toward him. He dove forward to get out of the way, getting closer to you, and sweeping one of your feet out from under you. You landed on your back, your fall cushioned as much as it could have been, and he pinned you down by hovering over you.

“You’re impressive,“ he said, and you gave him a look somewhere between pleading and fondness. His moment’s hesitation allowed you to swing your foot and use both its momentum and a shove from your elbows to flip him onto his back, your two foremost fingers creating a fire dagger at his throat, not close enough to threaten. This was only sparring, after all.

“Have you forgotten the rules of a match? It’s not over until the opponent yields.” He smiled, slightly, as he looked up at you.

“I yield.” You chuckled and stood up, giving him a hand to right him on his feet as well.

“You have more honor than I,” you told him, knowing that you only won thanks to trickery. A slight laugh rumbled from his chest and he tossed your jacket toward you again.

“How I’d love for my father to hear you say that.”

*a cyclamen a flower that, when given, expresses sincere feelings of admiration and romance. y/n was cheeky

-🦌 Roe