#BIRT Training

[aivhub]

Improve your reporting abilities with AIVHUB's BIRT Training. Get practical experience to succeed in business intelligence and analytics by learning how to use BIRT to build strong, data-driven reports.

[spilladabalia]

THE TRIFFIDS - My Baby Thinks She's A Train

My baby thinks she's a train, she don't know the difference between pleasure and pain, my baby thinks she's a train, she walks out the door & she's drinking kisses like rain

[her-satanic-wiles]

Guess Who?

Papa Emeriti I, II, III & Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader

Game night takes a turn when you end up blindfolded and tied on the table, at the mercy of all of your beloved Papas. The name of the game: figure out who’s touching you. You win: you cum. They win: they use your body however they see fit.

For @da-rulah, because I sent her a scenario that hurt her wittle feewings, and so now I’m facing the consequences of my actions. I hope you enjoy, Bee. ✌🏻😘

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

Warnings: aftercare, alluded/implied sex work, anal play, biting, bondage (using a rope), breath play, breeding, bukkake, choking, cream pie, cum eating, cunnilingus, degradation, fellatio, fingering, finger sucking, free use, gang bang, groping, MMFMM, objectification, plus size!reader, PIV sex, praise, premature ejaculation, pussy slapping, rope play, rough sex, running a train, sensory depravation (blindfold), skull fucking, spit-roasting, squirting, tag teaming, talking about you as if you weren’t there, tickle kink (if you squint), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it folks), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @xshadyladyx @x1nd1g0x @likeloversentwined @high-above-the-city @copiaspet622 @sister-of-sin-claudia @foxybouquet @inkstainedrat @ad-astra-per-aspera1976 @ravensbars @ultrahalloweengirl @susulbr @frog-scream @ghulehunknown @namelessghoulindisguise @onlyhereforghost @mercbeans

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Game night was usually a night reserved for only the brothers Emeritus, who usually enjoyed card games with only the three players. Every week without fail, the three men would gather in the wine cellar of the Ministry and play cutthroat games of Uno while drinking bottles of the Ministry’s finest by candlelight. It wasn’t often they’d invite a fourth in, rarely finding a person close enough to all three of them that they’d be able to relax and have fun with. But it wasn’t unheard of. Which is why the decision was unanimous when your name was thrown into the middle.

You were the favourite of all the Papas and the whole Ministry knew it. You were their closest friend and companion, the one who had the most in common with them and compassion for them. The one who made them feel the best both in and out of the bedroom. Yes, okay, the relationship you had with them all was… unique. It wasn’t often in any part of the world that brothers would share a woman and be happy doing so. But if it worked for all of you, you’d hardly say no. There was something so deliciously degrading about being passed around the Ministry’s highest ranking men like a commodity to be shared - as though you were nothing more than an object. It was so delicious because it wasn’t true. Of all the people you’d been with during your time at the Ministry, no one had treated you more kindly, more respectfully, and prioritised your pleasure quite like the Emeritus brothers. And so, almost every evening, you’d find yourself ‘rented’ for the night, and would end up tangled in the sheets with one of the Papas. And every time you needed to perform a ritual, it was always to one of them you’d call.

They’d tried getting you in on game night a few times before, but it just so happened that you were usually busy and had made plans before they’d been able to ask. How popular could one person be?

It turned out you didn’t have so many friends that they all kept you busy, rather you had one friend who took up most of your time away from the three Papas: Cardinal Copia. The Cardinal had inadvertently kept you all to himself mostly because you were his closest friend. Copia was the kind of man to put all his effort into one relationship rather than several, which meant you were the only one of his friends he wanted to spend time with. As that was the case, he had taken up so much of your free time, he made it impossible for the Papas to pin you down and drag you to game night. So, they dragged the bumbling Cardinal to game night, too.

The five of you were hunched round an aged table, the thing losing its integrity from the little upkeep that was done to it over the years. The layers of stain and paint gave it a more plastic feel, and one of the legs was propped up with the King James’ Bible, the book itself dirty from years of shoes resting on it. Clockwise, Primo headed the table, followed by Copia, You, Terzo and ending with Secondo. You only had two cards left, and felt smug at that. The closest person to you was Secondo, who had 3 cards. Everyone else was five cards or, in Copia’s case, much more. The typical banter and shit-talk ensued, you teasing Terzo about how you were going to win, Primo constantly pulling the cheapest moves like adding +2 cards or reversing so that Copia would have to draw more or wouldn’t get to play. Copia promising violent vengeance every time Primo screwed him over, which would earn titters of amusement from Secondo and Terzo.

Finally, Terzo had played his card allowing you to drop your penultimate one on top of his, your red 4 landing on his blue 4, with a cheery “Uno!” falling from your lips, despite Primo and Copia’s conversation that was murmuring in the background.

Secondo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Cardinale!” He called, breaking up the conversation. “It is your turn.”

“___ hasn’t had her turn yet.” Copia protested.

“She just did.”

Primo smirked, a devilish smile on his lips. “Our dear ___ didn’t claim ‘Uno!’. You have to take five cards.”

“I did!” You exclaimed, offended at Papa Primo’s accusations. You told him as such.

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

“To be fair, Cardinale, you were talking.” Secondo insisted, fighting your corner.

Terzo sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “There is nothing for it, amore.” He exclaimed. “Two insist you did not say it, two insist you did. Therefore, you must be punished some way, no? Either, take five cards like my fratello told you to do, or…”

“…Or?” You asked impatiently, bracing yourself for Terzo’s ultimatum. You knew it would be a suggestive offer, but you didn’t know exactly what he’d choose.

“Or, you take off that pretty little habit of yours and play the rest of the game in your underwear.”

Secondo jumped in. “___, you don’t have to do either.”

Primo, who secretly hoped you’d choose Terzo’s second option, also chimed in. “Well, you do have to take five cards if you don’t get naked for us.”

“Papa?” Copia asked, eyebrows raised. He clearly wasn’t expecting Primo to go along with it.

“What? You cannot expect an old man to be completely adverse to a beautiful woman stripping herself bare for my enjoyment - provided she consents, of course.”

Terzo, “If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold thy peace.”

Everyone immediately shot subtle glances at Copia, expecting the only man in the room who you’d not fucked yet to object. But, with blushing cheeks, he sat back and much to everyone’s surprise, remained quiet.

You slammed your card on the table and stood from your seat, hands immediately flying to and removing your veil. “This is bullshit.” You said, undoing the buttons at the front of your habit before pulling the whole thing over your head. You were met with sounds of appreciation, whistles, hoots and hollers - most of which came from Terzo who was more than happy to watch you reveal your gorgeous, plump body in order to win the game. You sat back down, breasts and stomach jiggling with the force, thighs splaying out against the chair as you sat. You watched as Secondo was mesmerised by your curves. He said nothing, wanting to keep things with you as respectful as possible, but he loved your body: loved watching it bounce each time he fucked into you, loved laving and sucking on your nipples, biting them just to earn that sound from your throat. It didn’t matter that he was a middle aged man with the total ability to control himself, when it came to you, he was a constant horny mess.

The game continued, Copia had his turn, Primo, Secondo, Terzo, then back to you. Finally, and with much grumbling from the rest of them, you played the final card and won the match. “And I did it all whilst in my undies.” You bragged. “This is why you never invite me to these nights - you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“We don’t always play Uno, you know.” Primo stated, resting his elbows on the table.

“Doesn’t matter, any game you throw my way I’ll win.” You responded petulantly.

“Oh you think?” Terzo asked, eyebrows raising.

“I know.”

“Prove it.” Secondo sounded from the other side of the table.

“Name the game, Papa.”

“What did you have in mind, fratello?” Questioned Terzo again.

Secondo sat back, his body language oozing confidence with a menacing glint in his eyes. “A game even our friend over there can play if he’s willing.” He gestured to Copia, who swallowed nervously. “We got some rope down here, some cloth. We strip you completely naked, blindfold you, and touch you however we want. You have to guess who it is. You guess correctly, we make you cum then move to the back of the line. Guess incorrectly, and we get to do what we want to you. You have to guess the majority correctly in order to win, if you don’t, well, we’ll decide what happens to you. Think you could win then?”

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

“I- I…” He stammered, torn between wanting to play but not wanting to ruin your friendship.

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

Primo patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Well then,” you reached round your back and unhooked your bra, throwing the fabric to the stone cold floor and feeling your nipples harden at both your arousal and the change in temperature, “let’s play.” Your panties were the next to go, followed by your shoes and socks, leaving you stood on the wine cellar’s floor naked as the day you were born. With each move you made, your body jiggled slightly, earning more groans of appreciation from the men who remained. Terzo even coming up behind you and pressing himself against you, hands roaming all over your body and grabbing handfuls of you where he could.

“Can’t wait for you to guess incorrectly so I can fuck you dumb, tesoro.” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

“We’ll see.” He stepped away from you and gave your ass a slap, watching it wobble with the force. He bit his bottom lip and moaned like he’d just eaten something delicious. “We will see.”

Secondo had gone and returned from getting the rope and cloth he saw, and began to bind you up in it, using the rope to tie your hands behind your back. “Your safe word is ‘bottle’, amore.” He told you placing a chaste but gentle kiss on your shoulder blade. “Does this feel okay?” He asked pulling on the rope.

“It feels fine, Papa.” You replied, feeling heat gather in your core and your breath already labouring.

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

And with that, your vision was blinded, your sense of sight plunged into darkness as Secondo tied the cloth gently behind your head, checking to make sure you were comfortable, before guiding you into position. You were lay against the small table, your head barely supported, with most of it hanging over the edge. You were lay on your back with your legs spread, your hands taking the weight of your back as it arched over the top of them. Your breasts had, for lack of a better term, pancaked as gravity was inistent on pulling them down. But even though Terxo made fun of that term, he loved the way you looked on your back for him. Your cunt was entirely on display with just how wide your spread legs had opened your labia, your wetness already visible to the men who stared at your body hungrily, like animals about to feed for the first time in weeks.

You felt Secondo kiss your thigh once before disappearing to join his brothers. Then, you heard all four of the men, in unison, say, “Carta, forbice, sasso!” Followed by skin slapping on skin.

Those fucking idiots were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to go first. You heard a few grumbles, but couldn’t make out who made what noise.

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

Then you felt it. A thumb running up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before finally rubbing over your clit - tight, little circles designed to drive you mad. Your hips bucked at the touch, a gasp escaping your lips at the surprise touch. His four fingers rested on your mound as an anchor, allowing more precise movements, and for him to put more pressure on your clit. You struggled against the rope, your hands moving out of habit wanting to reach your nipples, to pinch and pull at the buds like you usually did when someone played with your bundle of nerves. But the rope bit at your skin, burning slightly as you fought against it and making you scream out in frustration. “Fuck!” You breathed, body writhing beneath the calloused thumb. You wanted to try an work out who was doing it to you so you could win the game, but your mind went blank the second his thumb touched you.

The teasing was very much a Terzo trait, but the use of his thumb wasn’t. Terzo usually teased using his mouth or his cock. He didn’t have the drive to use one of his hands. Secondo used his hands a lot, loved to plunge them deep inside you and finger you open for him, having you screaming and begging for him to touch your clit. Which is how you knew this wasn’t Secondo. It couldn’t be Primo - he didn’t have the heart to tease. He’d always give you what you asked for in a heartbeat. Which meant it must have either been Terzo or Copia. As you’d never had sex with Copia, you couldn’t be sure what his methods were - and this touch did feel foreign. “Is it… is it Copia?”

You heard laughter from the other side of the room, followed by a “Dammit!” from Copia. “It’s me.” Copia pulled up one of the chairs and situated himself between your legs, getting himself ready for the task of making you cum. You felt his hot breath against your centre, erratic little puffs that hit your wet skin as he breathed through his nervousness. He took his time with you, almost as if he was psyching himself up. Copia had fucked before, and he was good at it. But he’d never fucked you. You could imagine that he was nervous because he wanted you to think he was good. And, if you had use of your hands, you’d tangle them in his brown hair and stroke his head gently, reassuringly. But instead, all you had were your little grunts of desperation to softly urge him on.

His moustache was the next thing you felt, tickling against your folds as his mouth made contact with you. The course hairs ran against your sensitivity as his tongue darted out to lap up the juices that were spilling from you. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing, screaming for something to fill it while Copia toyed with your clit, but he made no move to fill you, instead putting more pressure on you with his tongue as he continued to move up and down your slit, until finally he made permanent contact with your clit.

He tightened his tongue to make the tip more pointed to get a precise lick to your clit, swirling around it with his muscle and causing you to cry out in response, fighting against your restraints. His hot breath kept coming out from his nose, heightening your senses and making you hyper aware of just how much of a mess you were as tit hit the wetness seeping from you and making you feel cold. Your nipples were so hard and needing someone to play with them while Copia continued to drink you down like he was dehydrated.

He alternated between using his tongue only and pressing filthy kisses to your folds, practically making out with your cunt to get you off quicker. You could hear the sound of his lips smacking against your body, in between the broad strokes of his tongue he was providing for you. Tiny grunts would escape his lips as he ate you alive, treating you like the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you held down as much as he could so he could devour you easily. You could feel your high coming faster than you’d anticipated, or even wanted, but he was working you towards that end so fucking well, you were losing your breath and your mind.

“Copia, fuck!” You screeched, breathlessly. Your nails were scratching against the wood of the table, feeling the gross stickiness from the drinks’ condensation underneath your body, but feeling more filthy and used than disgusted. Your brain reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there were three other men watching this go on with just as much pleasure as you. You wondered if they were touching themselves. If they were watching you writhe with pleasure and stroking their cocks at the sight.

Copia’s lips wrapped entirely around your clit, moustache now soaked from your cunt, and he sucked. Hard. That tongue he used so precisely before was now slapping against your clit again, this time much faster than before. Because of this, the surprise change in pace and pressure, your orgasm hit you so violently, every single one of your nerve endings exploded beneath his touch, and set off a chain reaction around the rest of your body. Your muscles tensed, your breath was snatched from your lungs, your eyes (beneath the blindfold) closed even tighter, and your mouth had hung open in a perfect ‘o’, allowing a strangled moan to leave from your tightened throat that had closed in the strain of your orgasm. All the while, Copia refused to let up, keeping the pressure going even when you were trying to kick him away. He didn’t stop until he was sure your orgasm had subsided. He pressed one final kiss to your clit before he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone and spent on the table, recovering from one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Did that feel good, tesoro?” You head Terzo ask from the other side of the room. No one had approached you yet, meaning you couldn’t gauge whether Terzo was next or not.

Your brain was still scrambled, and you were barely able to manage a “uh-huh,” to respond to him, which earned a chuckle from all four of the men in the corner.

When the laughter died down, you heard more footsteps approaching you, stopping this time at the right side of you. You felt the silk of a robe glide over your bear skin, but as all of the Papa’s robes were made from the same material, you could only rule out Copia at that point.

You jumped in surprise at the feeling of four fingers immediately touching your stomach, rubbing two large, soft circles into the skin just to tease you. Those four fingers broke off as his hands went in two separate directions. The first moved upwards, running up over the mound of your breast, stopping to play with your right nipple - pinching and pulling at the bud just as you liked, and had needed for the past however long they’d been playing with you. The second hand moved downwards, mimicking the actions of the first by pinching and pulling, except this time it was on your clit. He wasn’t as rough with your clit as he was your nipple, given that your were still probably sensitive from your orgasm, but the torture was too fun even if you were suffering a little.

Those fingers that were playing with your cunt slipped inside your hole, immediately curving upwards and hitting that sweet spot that had you singing so beautifully for them. You only had the opportunity to cry out once before you felt the hand on your breast reach up to your neck, and squeeze the sides gently. His fingers were rough, working to hit your g-spot over and over again and make you squirm at his touch, and you felt your body shake with the force of it. The way he was using his hands against you, plus the roughness of them and the pit stop at your breasts made you confident enough to make your second guess.

“S-Secondo?”

Your stomach and heart sank when you heard dark laughter coming from the guys in the corner of the room. Secondo’s gruff voice sounded from far away, loudly speaking over the sound of your wetness squelching as the fingers inside you kept up their pace. “Wrong, amore.” He said, all too happily for you to be comfortable.

You smelled wine and sandalwood when the man leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear. “You’re mine now, tesoro.” Terzo claimed, his voice dark and heavily accented. His words were stretched telling you he was smiling as he spoke, unable to form them correctly. He revelled in the deception, removing his hands from your body and bringing his fingers up to your lips. “Open up for me.” He commanded, and once you obeyed, he put his middle and ring fingers covered in your cunt juices into your mouth. “Clean yourself up. Suck on them like you do my cock.”

You took those fingers into your mouth beautifully, putting on a show for him in hopes that he’d go easy on your body when he took what he wanted from you. A gutteral groan sounded from his mouth as he watched your lips stretch around his thick fingers, tongue grazing along the underside as you cleaned yourself from his digits. You bobbed your head fluidly, like you usually did when you took him in your throat, moaning around him and rubbing your thighs together. He always liked to know he had an affect on you - maybe appeasing his ego would help you out.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you heard him walk to your feet. His hands pried themselves in between your thighs to show your cunt to him like a piece of meat being inspected by a customer. You waited with baited breath as he decided what to do with you, no doubt in your mind that he was staring at your wetness with that glint in his eyes: the one that shows his excitement but could be mistaken for sadism if you didn’t know him. Or maybe they were the same thing. You felt his fingertips trace up and down the inside of your left thigh, before that hand disappeared. With the other on your right ankle keeping your legs spread and the other one missing, you could feel anticipation pool in your stomach.

SLAP.

His hand had come down hard on your cunt, fingers colliding brutally with your sensitive clit and stinging at the connection. You screamed out, body jerking with the attempt to slither away and close your thighs, but Terzo had already got himself between your legs, and there was nothing you could do but take it.

SLAP.

“Terzo!” You screamed, feeling your sensitivity dial up several notches with the second slap.

“Do you need to use your safe word, tesoro?” He asked.

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

“Want you nice and red for me when I fuck you dumb, tesoro. I told you that earlier.” This time, he rubbed his thick fingers over your clit, soothing the wound he was inflicting. “You’re already dripping enough. I could just slide in now, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, Papa!”

You felt his arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you towards the edge of the table. The rustle of his fabrics reached your ears telling you he was getting his cock out ready for you. Then you felt it: his heavy girth rubbing up and down your folds in typical Terzo fashion, the head rubbing against your cunt, encased comfortably by your lips. Every now and again, the tip would catch against your opening, and you held you breath for the push in that wouldn’t come until you least expected it. But when he did finally push inside you, your mouth fell open at the stretch. You were so sad you couldn’t watch his face, the look of it as he bottomed out on you always had you tightening around him. You were desperate to see his face crumpled up, showing you he loved being inside you.

“So fucking tight, tesoro.” He commented as soon as he was fully inside. You felt the crown nestle against your cervix, teasing you, reminding you that he was about to ruin you in all the best ways. He left you waiting for his true torture to begin, as you vaguely remembered that the only one who’d be cumming now was him.

He pulled out so his tip was almost entirely out of you, and then slammed back into you. The room echoed with the sound of the table scraping across the floor with the force of it. That sound, combined with your screams and whines, created the perfect symphony to Terzo’s onslaught.

Terzo always knew how to play you like a fiddle, pushing all of your buttons to have you walking beside the Gods. Today was no exception. Your legs had been extended to rest on his chest and over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your thick thighs for leverage as he thrust all the way into you.

Terzo fucked you like he paid for you, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt as quickly as he could move, taking only his pleasure from your body. You were lucky with all of your lovers, they were all giving and had just as much fun making you cum as they had doing the same for themselves. But sometimes, when you’d behaved in such a way to earn a punishment, you’d see all three of them be incredibly selfish and just take. Letting them use you like that, given the stark juxtaposition of their regular behaviour, always had you dripping for them, enjoying being nothing more than a living toy - a warm hole to sink into.

You clenched around Terzo’s cock as he fucked you - used you - for his own enjoyment. And, over the sounds you and your body were making, you heard Terzo’s rough voice. “Come here!” He said to someone else in the room. You heard footsteps that stopped beside Terzo. “Wrap your hand around her throat.”

The person obliged, their footsteps ending up by your head and then dropping their hand to your exposed neck. Terzo already had your body bouncing against him, ricocheting against his thrusts every time. The hand, because of this, had a little trouble grabbing onto your body, but eventually he managed it. His fingers and thumb rested against your esophagus and squeezed inwards, not restricting your airflow completely, but just enough to have you feeling the effects. Your mind had almost entirely melted, thinking of nothing other than Terzo’s cock pounding away inside you, hearing your own desperate whimpers as the hand around your pretty little neck heightened your pleasure and sensitivity.

“Who is it, tesoro?” Terzo asked, breathlessly. “Whose hand is that around your pretty little neck?”

The hand loosened enough to allow you to concentrate fully, but still rested on you to remind you of its presence. You had no idea. Not a single thought floated in your head. “Nuh!” You grunted with a particularly rough thrust. You had to guess someone. “P-Primo?”

You heard laughter, then Terzo’s voice cut through your brain. He made the sound of a buzzer, the kind of noise you hear when you get a question wrong. “Fuck her throat, Copia.”

“Fuck!” You exclaimed in irritation, kicking your feet against Terzo’s shoulder, gently.

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

“Of course.” You replied. He obviously wanted verbal consent, so you gave him just that, hearing him walk towards the crown of your head and adjust himself so his cock was completely free. You were maneuvered so that your head hung off the edge of the table, allowing a completely flat throat, and letting the Cardinal slide into your open mouth easily.

He hissed at the feeling of your tight, wet throat engulfing him with no trouble, thanks to the position you’d been put in. Copia tried to be kind to you, thrusting softly down your throat, and pulling out often to give you some breathing time. But you began to notice that the longer he spent inside you, the more he forgot his manners, and would spend more time fucking you between the breaths he gave you. This would make you clench tighter around Terzo’s cock, in part because your body was reacting to the loss of oxygen, but mostly because the feeling of being so thoroughly used had your mind swimming. Your body loved being degraded - reduced to nothing more than a set of holes to be used at any given time. Besides, you felt like Satanic Tinkerbell - you thrived under as much attention as you could possibly get, and felt like you’d die without it.

“Cazzo!” You heard Terzo grunt. His movements grew more and more erratic the closer he got to cumming. “Look at her throat.”

“Don’t.” Copia hissed again. “If I look, I’ll cum.”

“I can see the outline of his cock down your throat, tesoro. Every time he fucks inside you, I see it.”

You whined around Copia’s cock which spurred him to thrust forward a little more violently than he meant to. He wrapped his hand back around your throat and squeezed, crying out at how much tighter you got. “Oh merda! Oh cazzo!” Copia screeched. And, with no warning and just a strangled grunt, you felt Copia thrust into you one final time before he emptied himself into your throat, hands still wrapped around your throat, but with no pressure to them. He poured so much of himself into you, his body overreacting to his first time inside you. You heard Copia’s disappointed sigh as pulled out leaving you to swallow his load with a slight ache in your throat. You felt a string of your saliva spill onto your cheek, only to get the cloth covering your eyes damp where it settled and got soaked up. pulled out of you, “Wanted to last longer.” Copia commented.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” You heard Primo say. You remembered the first time Primo fucked you, too, and how he also didn’t last as long as he wanted… in fact, it was the same for all of them. You couldn’t help the sense of pride that washed over you reminiscing over that fact. “You gotta build up stamina to enjoy her completely.”

You tightened. Out of all of them, Primo was the kindest towards you - so to hear him talk about you as if you weren’t human did something to you that you should feel ashamed about. But instead it only made you wetter.

“Merda!” Terzo groaned. “Gonna fucking cum into this slutty cunt. You want that, tesoro?”

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

“I w-want you to fill me up so-oh bad, Papa! Fuck. Want y-you to fill me up and…” You cut yourself off, remembering that there were others present.

Terzo spanked your thigh and dropped his voice down to a quiet, husky plea. “Fucking say it. I dare you. Finish that fucking sentence.”

“Want y-you to fill me up and fuck a baby into me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

“You fucking whore!” Terzo exclaimed appreciatively. “Sathanas!” And that was all the warning you got before Terzo also emptied himself into you, cock twitching in over sensitivity as rope after rope shot into your cunt, his fingers digging into your plump calves as he tried to keep himself grounded. His knees were buckling at the force, and you felt his whole body tremble as it fought to keep him upright.

When his orgasm subsided, Terzo pulled out of you, a grunt coupling his unceremonious actions. He gently returned your legs to the table, trying to make sure that you were safe and comfortable again, before fiddling with his clothes. You assumed he’d turned to walk away, which is when you heard Secondo’s voice.

“Nuh-uh!” He scolded, clicking his fingers. You’d seen him scold Terzo before, there was no doubt in your mind that the click was followed by Secondo pointing to the problem. “Clean up your mess before someone else gets in there.”

You imagined Terzo rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager. He pulled up a chair, sat on it, and buried his face in your folds without warning. His tongue delved as deep as it would go, licking his own cum out from your cunt. Where his tongue wouldn’t reach, his fingers did, and every drop of himself was gulped down with attitude. He didn’t care a button for your pleasure this time, purely being down there just to clean you out to be used again. When he had finished, he patted your thigh twice and left you waiting and wanting for the next person.

“Wait,” you said quickly hearing all movement in the room stop, “if I keep my hands to myself, can you untie me? It’s starting to hurt.” The rope was burning against your skin now to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore. And, given that both of your arms were tied behind your back and you were laying on them, your arms felt dead and your back had begun to ache.

“Of course.” Terzo replied without thinking. He turned on his heels and rushed back to the table, his hands on your shoulders. “Sit up for me, tesoro.” He ordered, his voice much more kindly than it had been before. He helped you to sit upright. “That’s it - brava ragazza.” You felt his deft hands working at the rope Secondo had tied, making short work of it given that it was tied well. Once your wrists were free and the rope had been discarded, you felt Terzo’s gentle touch on your wrists, no doubt a little red from the irritation. “Ah, my poor amore.” He pressed his lips to them. “Battle scars, no?”

“So dramatic.” Secondo muttered from the other side of the room.

“I have some hand cream,” Primo said walking towards you, “it’ll be good enough until you get to one of our rooms and can be taken care of properly.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

You felt Primo and Terzo rub the hand cream into your wrists, their fingers working to moisturise the skin and help repair it as quickly as possible. Primo always kept stuff like this in his pockets - hard boiled sweets included. He was such a grandpa sometimes it made you laugh. Prepared for an apocalypse - you’d tell him that every time he pulled something out of his bag or pocket that would help.

Once they’d finished, Terzo pressed a kiss to your hand and walked away, while Primo rested his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that had you sighing and leaning into his touch. “You’re doing so good for us, fiorellina.” He praised. “Just a little longer.”

Primo left you alone and everyone watched as you lay back down for them, body splaying out against the wood. Your hands went to the edges of the table, clutching on to try and stop you from grasping onto the next man who took his place between your legs.

Terzo’s voice sounded from across the room. “You have to get this next one correct, tesoro. Or we win.”

“I will. Of course I will, are we kidding?” You responded, determination in your voice.

The room was silent while the next man moved towards you - his footsteps slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned out over your body, before finally you felt his tongue lave over your body: it ran all over your stomach, your thighs, back up to your breasts where he licked and sucked on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards as his mouth brought you so much pleasure. You had to resist the urge to clutch onto his head as you usually did whenever someone ran their tongue over your nipples. But that was when you felt it: a second tongue mimicking the patterns on your nipple and replicating it on your clit, pulling another moan from your mouth.

It was obvious that this was Secondo and Primo - although Copia had two chances, you doubt he’d have a third - or even that Terzo would come back for seconds.

“Secondo and P-Primo.” You said quickly.

“Well of course,” Terzo said, matter-of-factly, “but who’s doing what, tesoro?”

You thought you could get away with it, that they’d give you a break and let you have the win - but evidently not. “S-Secondo is - fuck -” you pushed your hips into the man’s mouth who was licking your cunt fervently. “Su-ucking on my clit.” It had to be, this was his style. He wasn’t usually gentle with your body, not when he’d been deprived for as long as he had been.

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

You quickly lifted it off your eyes and immediately flinched at the candlelight, despite it being low. You’d been in complete darkness the whole time, it was hardly surprising that you were struggling to see. Your eyes were blurred, and they took a while to completely adjust, but when they did, a wave of relief washed over you. You were right. Your hands immediately flew to Primo and Secondo’s heads, putting pressure on Secondo’s because he was where you needed him the most, but everyone knew that Primo’s ministrations and work on your nipples would have you tipping over the edge in no time.

Primo lifted his mouth off your nipple and attached it to your lips, fingers tweaking the opposite bud in lieu of his tongue. This kiss was just as tender as his first one, filled with such passion you felt yourself grinding on Secondo’s tongue much faster in pure desperation.

“You are doing so well, fiorellina.” Primo echoed his words from earlier, voice low, those words clearly meant for your benefit and your benefit only. “You please us so well. Take everything we give like a good girl.”

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

“Tell him, fiorellina. Ask him to make you cum.”

“Please!” You begged, your mind so far gone you could hardly stand it anymore. For the first time since you looked down at him, you were able to drink in the sight of the man between your thighs, roughly sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of you now like a man on a mission. You could only see the top of his head, given the rest of it was hidden by your cunt. You could only just see the bridge of his nose above your mound, his hands wrapped around your bruised, jiggling thighs, and him looking up at you through his lashes, a scowl on his brow with his determination to tip you over the edge. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes as he sucked you into his mouth, and it made your cunt clench tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Papa!”You called out to him, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. “Your t-tongue feels so… good. I’m so fucking close. P-please make me cum, Papa-ah! Wanna cum. Wanna cum so-oh I can… I can feel your c-cock deep inside me. Fuck! Just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st-op. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Secondo had pushed his face further into you, his tongue roving deliciously over your clit every time he sucked on it harshly.

“Cumming!” You announced via scream, your back arching off the table and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Your voice stopped, cut like someone had just turned the sound off but continued to play the video. Your second orgasm was violent, and wet. So very wet. Your vision was the first to go, dark patches swimming over your sight and eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they were clutching onto the table, your desperation forcing them there right as your orgasm hit lest you draw blood from your Papas. Secondo growled into your cunt as you released your cum onto him and the table below, the sound of your squirt hitting the floor as it poured from your body, combined with Secondo sucking it down greedily had your toes curling and your orgasm continuing. It felt like it went on forever, sending electric pulses all over your body until you couldn’t stand it and damn near passed out. All the while, you had Primo in your ear whispering to you; reminding you to breathe, telling you it was okay. You barely registered the fact that his hand was resting on top of yours, fingers bent to completely cover you.

Secondo stood from his place between your thighs and moved to your head to kiss you, letting one of your hands wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you as his mouth engulfed yours. Your other hand, which was still trapped beneath Primo’s, pulled out from its position and also pulled him toward you, breaking your kiss with Secondo so you could kiss Primo just as passionately. You felt Secondo’s fingers traverse the length of your body, before dipping back into your hole. “Mmmf!”You protested, muffled by Primo’s lips. You broke the kiss to look at Secondo. “Please not your hands!”

Secondo smirked. “You want my cock, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

You climbed off the table before bending over it, letting your body squish against the wood so tantalisingly, you heard appreciative groans coming from everyone in the room. Secondo came back to his original position, and fumbled around with his robes before he positioned his cock at your entrance. You could feel the weight of it against you as he ran it through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. The head of his girth rubbed against your sensitive clit, still twitching from the orgasm he gave you. Each rub caused you to whimper from the sensation, mouth hanging open and brow furrowing in pleasure.

When Secondo finally sank in, the stretch was divine. Secondo was so, incredibly thick and long, he reached depths that you had never felt before. Despite already being fucked once, your cunt was still forced open as though this was the first cock you’d taken in a long, long time. Your hands clutched onto the table again, grasping the edges tightly to ground yourself as you cried out, his own hiss of pleasure echoing in your ears as he, too, felt the effects of your extraordinarily tight pussy. He gave you time to adjust to him and his size once he’d buried himself all the way to the hilt, hands on your ass cheeks, gripping tight enough for the fat to squeeze between his fingers. A string of expletives in Italian fell from his lips, punctuated by a bite to your right hip. He thrust inside tentatively at first, hitting your cervix so deliciously, your eyes rolled back into your head and a delirious smile played on your lips. Secondo kept rocking into you, hitting that spot over and over again, gradually picking up the pace until he was fucking into you at a rough pace - the perfect pace.

Primo stood in front of you, watching your face as you took Secondo’s cock. Your hands unclasped from the table and moved to Primo’s clothed cock, standing to attention underneath his robes, and began to fumble with the fabric to free him. You wanted his cock in your mouth, just as much as you needed Secondo’s. You gave Primo’s cock two strokes at first, staving off the arousal just enough to get him into your mouth without him blowing too soon. Primo was always a delight to give head to - he was always so gentle, so appreciative, hands in your hair and sweet touches, never taking too much unless you were offering it and giving you kind praise as you worked hard to get him to cum.

Your first lick ran from base to tip, causing his toes to curl in his shoes at the pressure. But once you were at his head, you swirled your tongue around it, taking the whole tip in your mouth and sucking like you would taking cake mix off the spoon. You hollowed your cheeks to make a better suction for his head, and relished in the feeling of his hands in your hair, grunts of desperation slipping from his lips. You moved your hands to his hips and silently pulled them forward, sucking more of him into your mouth until that tip was right at the back of your throat, dipping down into your throat. All the while, you looked up at him through your lashes, big, doe eyes maintaining eye contact with him while your lips sinfully stretched around his cock.

“Oh my,” Primo commented, chest heaving from his lack of breath, “look at that. You look so pretty like this, fiorellina.”

He began to gently fuck your throat, pulling out completely to give you the opportunity to breathe, and bending down to kiss you ever now and then, before eventually feeding his cock back into your mouth, and repeating the process all over again.

In the meantime, behind you, Secondo was fixated on the way your cunt swallowed him whole, greedily pulling him back in and clenching down on his shaft as Primo sent those praises to you, and they shot straight down to your hole. You could hear Secondo’s own grunts and groans as he felt this, and just how feral he was becoming the longer he was inside of you. You were feeling so good, you were creaming on his cock, and Secondo couldn’t take his eyes off the juice that had gathered at the base, pulling and snapping with each time he pulled out then slammed back in.

He pushed his hand underneath your body and began to play with your clit again, stealing a moan from your mouth, muffled by Primo’s cock that was buried all the way to the hilt down your throat again. Secondo chuckled at your response, “You like that, amore?” He asked, his tone delightfully condescending, filled with a false sympathy that had goosebumps forming on your skin. “You like taking two cocks at the same time, hm? Like being used by four men in one day?”

“You should have seen the way her eyes lit up just now, fratellino.” Primo said, stroking your hair.

“Her cunt is clenching - I know how much she likes being a whore for us. Listen to her.” True enough, underneath your muffled whines and moans, everyone could hear the sound of Secondo fucking into you, how your wetness splashed around him and made it so, embarrassingly clear just how much you loved this. Secondo laughed again. “Look over at Terzo and the Cardinal, amore.”

You did as Secondo asked, pulling Primo out of your mouth to look at them over your shoulder. Terzo was, as expected, brazen with his thoughts, his cock completely out of his trousers again and his fist wrapped around it, darkened eyes trained on your body as you bounced off Secondo’s cock, and swallowed Primo’s with enthusiasm. Copia, on the other hand, clearly just as affected as Terzo, was still dressed from his earlier encounter with your mouth, but his hand rubbing over his cassock as discreetly as he could manage. You tightened again momentarily, relishing in the fact that you had four men rock hard and desperate to bury themselves in all of your holes.

“You should have seen the Cardinal earlier, tesoro.” Terzo teased. “How eager he was to fuck your throat.”

“Fuck.” You muttered, eyes watching your friend rut into his own hand. at the sight of you getting fucked relentlessly. There was something so incredible about being the centre of everyone’s attention, and the object of all their desires. How a man who you’d never even seen in a sexual light before, and you were sure hadn’t thought of you in one, was now trying to cum for a second time at the thought of you. “M-my hands are - fuck! Papa! - My hands a-are free.” You hinted, before taking Primo back into your mouth and curling your hands into loose fists, creating two new holes for Terzo and Copia to use at their pleasure. Of course, they leaped forward, and before you knew it both of their cocks had been spat on, then slid into your fists, and began fucking your hands as they would your cunt.

You were stuffed full, almost every hole imaginable filled with the cocks of the highest members of the clergy, at the mercy of the Emeritus brothers as they had their wicked ways with you. The rigorous snaps of Secondo’s hips had you bouncing along the table, meaning Primo could stand still and you’d take his cock completely hands free, with Secondo doing all the work.

From your peripherals, you watched as Copia used your hand, his own resting on the table as though he were too shy to touch you, despite wrapping his digits around your throat and making your airways tighter for him to fuck as he pleased. Terzo, however, a man used to being deep inside you and taking his pleasure from your body, had leaned over and landed a few, stinging slaps to your ass, watching as it jiggled with both the force of his hits and the backshots Secondo was giving you. That same hand he put in his mouth - his pinkie to be precise - salivated all over it, and then began to rub it over the rim of your ass, making you jump in surprise. And then, when you’d relaxed to his touch, he inserted the tip into your twitching hole, only down to the mid knuckle, but that combined with Secondo still playing with your clit had you tipping over into your third orgasm, body tensing and cunt fluttering around his cock.

Primo had pulled out, allowing you to breathe through it, crouching down and wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking himself furiously. “That’s it, fiorellina. Cum for us. You’re doing so well for us. Such a good girl. Ah! Sathanas! I’m close.”

When you came back to your senses, you fixated your eyes on Primo’s desperately moving hand, willing it back into your mouth, but Primo wasn’t having it.

His voice dropped to a whisper so only you could hear him. “Can I cum, fiorellina?”

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, and mere seconds later you heard Primo groan and then his cum landing on your flushed cheek, nose, and upper lip.

“Oh, fuck! Look at her now!” You heard Terzo say, in awe of your fucked out state, covered in cum. “Shit, me too!” He pulled out from your fist and stood where Primo once was, stroking himself until completion over your face, groaning as the first rope of cum shot out and landed on your forehead. It dripped down onto your cheek, joining the first load of cum, along with hitting your nose.

It didn’t take much longer for Secondo’s orgasm to hit him, his thrusts becoming sloppy and fast until he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, falling onto your plush body as rope after rope spilled in your tight, wet heat. His hands were gripping onto your flesh so hard, you were sure he was going to leave bruises, bruises you were excited to see for days after so you could remember what happened on your first game night with the boys.

Copia was the last one to cum, his own stamina keeping him going just as was promised by Primo earlier. But even still, a few more thrusts and he was done, his own cum joining Primo and Terzo’s on your face but this time it hit your mouth and chin, dripping onto the floor when the load was too big to stick to your skin.

You all sat there for a moment, catching your breaths from the intensity of the evening. Primo, as predicted, was exhausted and making a joke about how his old body couldn’t keep up to everyone. Terzo had picked up that same cloth that was on your eyes earlier and used it to wipe the copious amounts of cum that had painted your face; the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a look of disgust on his face as he finished cleaning you up as much as he could. “You did so well for us, tesoro.” He said, his voice low and warm. “I would kiss you but…”

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

“I still won, though.” You announced, smugly. You yelped when you felt Secondo spank your ass.

“Alright then, champion.” He said. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up.”

Secondo helped you get your habit back on once he had pulled out of you, and let you lean on him as you walked. Your legs were like jelly from both the position you were in and from the three orgasms the men had put you through. You bade each of them a good night before Secondo pulled you to his room, running you a bath upon arrival. As the water filled the tub, he stripped you naked again and had you sit on the edge, a damp, soapy cloth in his hands using it to properly wash your face, and clean you of any cum Terzo hadn’t managed to get. “You let us be too rough for you, amore.” He gently scolded you, watching as your face reddened beneath the warm water.

“It’s nothing I don’t enjoy, Papa.” You retorted, equally as soft. “I’d use my safeword if I didn’t. You know it makes me feel good when you use me. I feel better the more animalistic you get.”

“I don’t think we talked about the reason why before.”

“It’s the fact that you want me so much, you revert back to primal instincts and take me fiercely. Like you’re staking your claim.” Your thighs squirmed at the thought.

“You didn’t get enough just now, amore?” Secondo asked, clocking your body’s response. He knelt down and spread your legs, watching your labia part and wetness seep out again. He frowned. “Your poor pussy took such a beating - she’s so red.”

“She can take more, Papa.”

He looked up at you darkly. “You want your Papa to fuck you again? Fill you up with another load of cum, hm? You’re that desperate for cock you want your Papa to fill you again even though you’ve just taken four?”

“Please, Papa.” You whispered, feeling your nipples harden with arousal.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit and had you jumping. “In the tub then, puttana. Let me claim you properly.”

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

[cloudcover23]

Okay, I was seeing some discourse on whether House In The Cerulean Sea / Somewhere Beyond The Sea is set in the UK-ish or the USA-ish and I’ve been thinking about it and I’m weighing in!

I think it’s set in the UK-ish and here’s why:

(These are mostly examples from SBTS because I just finished that one)

- they take the train to the seaside. The train.

- The children make Linus breakfast for his birt that includes beans and mushrooms.

- Linus mentioned loosing a “stone”

- there were mentions of Prime Ministers

- there were mentions of kings of the past.

This concludes my list of evidence coming from a person who’s from the USA and is only noticing the bits that made me go “huh, sounds British”. I wonder if there are bits in there that would make a person from the UK go “huh, sounds American”

[illustriousaestheticc]

Decorate your room for upcoming new year!

[afrotumble]

Dicing with death: the original New York graffiti artists – in pictures | Art and design | The Guardian

[starstwinkleplanetsshine]

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Sixteen: I Heart NYC (Read on AO3 here)

Percy and I had a few weeks left until school started, which was strange for me because I was used to school starting in early August. Waiting till September 1st felt like an eternity, but it gave us time to continue to bond and train some more. 

I kept the secret about my necklace for a couple days, just telling Percy that it was a gift from dad and not what it could do. I knew he was catching on, though, and he kept asking me where I was getting the sword I was using to spar with him. A part of me wanted to keep it just a special thing between my dad and I, but eventually I didn’t have a choice. 

I was walking out of the bedroom that Percy and I now shared, tying my hair back and not paying attention, when he leapt in front of me, the tip of his sword inches from my chest. 

“Percy!” I yelped as I jumped back. “What are you doing?!” 

“As a halfblood you always have to be ready to defend yourself!” He had a crazy smile on his face and he started closing the gap I had made between us. “Expect the unexpected!” 

I couldn't help but laugh at how crazy my brother sounded. “Come on, honestly Percy, this is crazy.” 

“Our lives are crazy! Fight back or die!” To make his point, he moved the tip of his sword centimeters from the center of my chest. I knew he wouldn’t actually hurt me, the playful glint in his eye proved that, and I could see that he was fighting to not burst into a fit of laughter with me. He was doing this for one reason: to find out the secret about my sword. I decided to let him have his fun. 

In one quick motion, my hand flew to my neck and I ripped the necklace off dramatically. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide as a beautiful, celestial bronze sword appeared in my hands. Seeing our two weapons side by side, I noticed for the first time that they were almost identical, except for the imprint of a trident that I had on the hilt of mine. I smiled at this—dad had given us twin swords. 

“I knew it!” Percy yelled in triumph as he parried my blade and went for a strike. I blocked him easily, pushing him back so I didn't get trapped at the end of the hallway. “That’s so cool!” He exclaimed as he advanced again. He was barely taller than me, but much stronger and a better swordsman. He had the advantage, but since I had been trained by so many different people so early in my learning, my style was hard to pin down and unpredictable. 

I slashed, feinted to his left side, and then whipped around quickly to his right. He was expecting this maneuver, it was one of his favorites after all, but he wasn't expecting me to dive and roll under his legs. It only took him a second to regain his bearings and flip around, but that was all I needed. I had rolled up to my feet and had my sword up in a defensive position just as he brought his down towards me. Our weapons clashed, both of us locked in a battle of strength, when mom walked in the front door. 

“Perseus and Andromeda Jackson! What did I tell you about sword fighting in the apartment?!” 

Both of us lowered our weapons sheepishly, our gazes on the floor. 

“Sorry mom.” Percy mumbled. 

“He started it.” I said at the same time. 

“I don’t care who started it.” Our mom said, although she shot Percy a disapproving look. “You know my rule: if you want to spar, go out to the courtyard. I don't want any more slashed couch cushions.” I winced, remembering the last time we had clashed swords in the living room. It had not ended pretty. 

“Yes, mom.” 

“Okay, mom.” we said at the same time. Percy capped his sword, making it turn back into a pen, and stuck it in his pocket. I whispered the word nostos, and my sword was a necklace again in moments. It was quiet for a few seconds before Percy spoke. 

“Mom, did you know that Angie's necklace was also a sword?” She laughed slightly as she set her grocery bags on the kitchen counter. 

“I did.” 

“Well I didn’t! That’s so cool!” He turned back to me. “All I got for my birthday was a stupid sand dollar.” 

I tried not to laugh at him. “It’s not just a sword.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

I tapped the necklace twice and then pulled, causing a beautiful trident to appear in my hands. “Dad said a daughter of Poseidon should have a weapon worthy of the title.” 

Percy’s mouth fell open. “No fair! You have to let me train with it!” 

I laughed and kept the weapon away from him as he reached and tried to grab it out of my hand. “Don’t be too jealous, most of the time I’m just stuck weaning a necklace no one has worn since the 1990s.” 

“Hey!” Mom interjected from the kitchen. “Those used to be cool!” 

“Used to be.” I whispered, causing Percy to laugh and mom to stick her head around the corner. 

“I heard that!” 

A few days later, my adopted mom flew in from Arizona. She hadn’t been to New York for a long time, so Percy and Sally took her and I to see all the touristy sights you could possibly think of. 

We did it all: Empire State Building (but we didn’t go up the elevator, Percy said that wouldn’t be a good idea for us), the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, World Trade Center, Times Square, Central Park, and more. We got “I heart NY” T-shirts and saw The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. 

It was the best week of my life. 

I loved watching my two moms interact—they were both so grateful to each other for what they had done for me, and it was crazy to see how similar they were. I didn’t leave my adopted mom’s side the whole trip, the two of us soaking up being together again. 

The four of us talked about different options for my future, and we all decided it would be best for me to stay in New York, go to school with Percy, and stay close to Camp, just in case. I could tell this made my adopted mom sad, but she knew it was for the best. 

On the last night of her visit, and just three days before school started, we stayed up extra late. The four of us, plus Paul, had a nice dinner at home and then played board games over blueberry pie. My adopted mom and I stayed up late and found ourselves alone in the living room, curled up on the couch. We were quiet for a while, just enjoying being with each other, before she spoke. 

“I'm so proud of you for what you did this summer.” 

Over the time she was there, Percy and I had told her everything that happened. Him about his adventures in the Labyrinth, and me about my time at Camp. We each gave our perspectives of the Battle, trying to leave out the scariest parts as to not scare our moms. But there was no fooling them—they knew their kids lived dangerous lives. 

“Thanks, mom. I missed you so much.” 

She sighed and pulled me closer to her. “You have a new family now. Your real family, and I’m so happy you’re not alone anymore.” 

I shifted so that I could look at her face. “You are my real family, mom. You raised me. You loved me when no one else would. I may be related to Percy and Sally and the kids at camp, but that doesn’t make them more family than you.” I saw tears form in her eyes, and she smiled down at me. 

“I thank Hestia every day that she brought you to me. It’s an honor to be let into your crazy world.” 

I hugged her tight, and finally asked the question I had been wondering for months. 

“Mom, if you’re a mortal, why do you worship Hestia?” 

She chuckled. “Now that is an interesting story. It started when I was around eighteen, and I was in a pretty dark place. Most of the men in my life had never been kind—my dad, my brothers, my boyfriends. So eventually, I decided I was done with all the pain. I ran away and stumbled upon a convent, a home of nuns who took me in and welcomed me. I was fascinated by their sisterhood and their vows of chastity and charity. I had never seen anything like it, and I fell in love with their lifestyle. I wanted to join them, but there was one problem—I wasn't Catholic.” 

“They wouldn't let you join?” 

“I could, but it would be a long process. I had to first join the church, which takes a while, and then start my journey towards becoming a nun. But I didn't care how long it would take, I wanted in.” 

I nodded. Demigods didn’t really deal with God, you know, with a capital G. We dealt with gods, and left the Big Guy alone. It’s not that we believed in Him, but we didn’t exactly not believe in Him, either. It was a complicated subject, one that campers debated around the campfire from time to time. 

“So how did you find Hestia?” 

My mom smiled. “She found me. I was sitting by the fire in the prayer chapel of the convent, just kind of talking to the flames. I didn’t think I was praying, but I guess I was, because all of a sudden there was a face in the fire. I blinked, thinking I was crazy, and then sitting next to me was a beautiful young woman around my age wearing a plain gray dress. She knew my name, knew my past, my troubles, and said she had been watching me for some time. She didn’t know why, but the Fates had shown her to me when I was just a little girl, saying I would be important one day. She had been waiting for the right time to finally meet, and she knew the time had come. 

From that moment on, I devoted my life to her. I left the convent, found a small house where she told me to move, in the desert, and started a new life on my own. But I wasn’t on my own, because I had my goddess. I started studying Greek myth and philosophy, and it became my whole world. And then one day a couple years later, she came to me and said my time had come: the reason the Fates had led her to me was made clear. She told me the god Poseidon had two forbidden children, and one of them needed a home. She promised that she would protect the child and me, watch over us until the day came that the child could protect herself. She asked me if I accepted her challenge and gift, and I did. The next day, she brought me a beautiful, perfect, baby girl, just weeks old. She brought me the greatest gift of my life—you.” 

We were both crying now, and I had never felt so grateful for the woman who raised me. I couldn’t believe that so many things had come together in order to protect me, and hearing that the Fates had been preparing for this moment since my mother was a child was almost too much to wrap my head around. 

“You are a very special girl, Angie. I’ve known that since the moment I first held you in my arms. The Fates have great plans for you, and I want you to know that I’ll be there for you the whole time. Even when I don’t understand, even when all I can do is listen, I’ll be there.” 

I hugged her tight. “I love you, mom. Thank you for everything.” 

“I love you too, my brave little girl.” 

We sat for a while just holding each other, and eventually we were talking and joking again. We knew our time was short, and before long it was nearing 2am. Neither of us wanted to sleep, but our eyelids were heavy and soon we were yawning.

The morning came too quickly, and for the first time in my life I wished Apollo had been late. But he wasn’t, he never was, and soon enough we were all loaded up in Sally’s car and driving to the airport. I gave my mom a long hug, promising to call or Iris message her every few days. I held her hand all the way until security, then my birth mom held my hand and Percy had his arm around my shoulders as I stood and watched her disappear into the crowd. Despite it all, I couldn’t help but smile. I may have been saying goodbye to the woman who raised me, but I still had my family with me.

When September 1st came, I was glad I had Percy by my side. Going to high school in New York City wasn’t anything like high school in Arizona, and I had total culture shock. He was with me every step of the way, though, from the subway in the morning to the ride home. He introduced me to a frizzy red-headed girl named Rachel Elizabeth Dare and explained that they had met a few summers ago at the Hoover Dam and that she had helped Annabeth and him navigate the Labyrinth. I was shocked at first, she was a mortal after all, but it was nice to have someone else besides Percy to talk about half blood stuff with. 

The school year passed slowly at first, but then quicker as it went on. Rachel, Percy, and I ate lunch almost everyday together and soon we had formed a tight trio. We called Annabeth a lot and saw her at least once a month since she went to a boarding school in the city. Soon enough I was calling her on my own without Percy. 

Sally had set up a small shrine to Poseidon in our room, which we made sacrifices on and kept clean so that our apartment could be a temple for him. That way, no monsters could enter or get too close thanks to dad’s protection. That didn’t mean we didn't get attacked on our way to school or out in the city—we did, about once every few weeks, more if we spent a lot of time together, which we usually did. But we handled them when they came, and the mortals were usually none-the-wiser. Except for this one time…well, let's just say Percy and I are technically banned from the Q train, but who really keeps track of those things! 

I iris-messaged Cadence once a week, if not more. She kept me up to date with what was happening at Camp and I told her about what was going on in the mortal world, not that much of that made sense to her anyways. I talked to my adopted mom as often as I could, sometimes multiple times a day. She was shocked by Iris messages at first, and kept ruining the connection by putting her hand in the mist, but eventually she got the hang of it. 

For the first time in my life I had real friends, and a group I could call my own. It was strange at first, and hard to open up, but eventually I got a little better at letting other people into my life. I went to bed every night grateful, even if I had piles of homework to get through. 

It was pretty much the best school year of my life. 

Percy and I knew the summer was coming fast, and we knew it would change our lives forever. We turned sixteen this summer—the age of the demigod in the great prophecy. For years, Percy had been certain it would be him. But since my arrival, things weren’t so clear. We didn’t talk about it much, actually we didn’t talk about it at all, but sometimes I would catch him looking at me, studying me, and I knew what he was thinking. 

What if it didn’t have to be him? What if it could be me? 

I wondered the same thing. 

But then I would look out our top floor apartment window and see the East River glimmering in the New York sunset and a peace would settle over me. The summer would come and we would face whatever challenges awaited us when it did. But for now, I didn't have to worry about battles or monsters or titans waging war. I just had to worry about passing geometry and getting on the right subway trains. 

At least my brother could help me with one of those things.

[disorganizedkitten]

We'll Take Our World By Storm Chapter 1

Harry Potter | 2021 | 6,085 | Ao3 | Masterlist | Next

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has educated more than seventy percent of the last three centuries’ historical figures. Foster siblings Harry Potter and Fay Dunbar-Black are beginning their first year there this fall, and they have plans. They’re not the only ones, though, and it seems like all plans have one kink in common - Harry’s twin brother, Connor; known for not dying when he should’ve. [or at least, known for being caught not dying.] Connor would like to go on record saying he’d love to stay out of this too. Between suspicious teachers, learning magic, the castle trying to murder their Ravenclaws, and Harry’s biological family trying to reconnect after ten years, everyone is busy. At least one thing hasn’t changed: the Wizarding World won’t know what hit them.

I think the beginning is always the hardest point to find. In this story especially, finding the beginning, the start of it all, is a rather arduous task.

 Why would I say that? Because everyone who’s even marginally important has their own motive. Their own beginning. And their beginning was caused by the actions of someone else who had a beginning of their own, and so on and so forth until keeping them all straight is a titan’s job.

 Which is probably why Narrators are in such high demand.

 I know which beginnings I will use for this story, but before we get there, I’d like to tell you about some of the other beginnings I could have used.

 Many pieces fall into place years before our beginning.

 Some will say this started with an injured elf, and his Master’s dedication. A surprising thing, for commonly it goes the other way.

 This beginning is one of my favorites, as it led to a wonderful finish.

 Others of my kind will snarl that it started with a burning wardrobe and then-misplaced distrust. It’s true that Tom proved him right in the end, but I dislike that answer because they never tell us why the distrust came.

 Hate for things not yet done is a terrible thing.

 Some who have lived through our story can claim it started with witchcraft that shouldn’t be, the backlash of a spell that doesn’t follow any rules we know. Of course, they only say this after the finish line has been reached, because when the girl arrives out of time she doesn’t know of magic. She knows of more important things, though -- She knows of chaos, ruthlessness, and family.

 A few say it started with three brothers; brothers who were too powerful, too curious, too dangerous. Sadly, most of these few overlook the most important bit. These brothers were too loving; they loved the world and each other so, so much.

 Enough to look death in the face and say Not Yet.

 Some will tell you it started with four great friends who wanted safety for themselves and their futures. Friends whose names went down in history alongside their home. Four friends who, like the brothers, fought and bled for and against each other, determined and caring till their end.

 (Four friends who were ripped down to three).

 Others still will claim it started with four boys sharing a dorm. And here again, the cycle repeats. When their story stagnates and slides into another, there are three holding each other up. I don’t like this cycle, which may be one reason I like my story and its beginning best.

 You see, some, - many, - bonds aren’t meant to be broken, but wounds can be sutured.

 Another can claim it started in a dreary playground, where a boy told a girl about magic. Their friendship, built on secrets and similarities, seemed like it would last forever.

 It didn’t. I can’t say I rooted for it.

 Some claim it started years later, in a train compartment and with a friendship forged on stubbornness and an odd conversation about treason. As if anyone uses the word treason anymore.

 A rare few, so few I hear their voices like whispers on the wind, claim it started in a hospital. I ignore them. Nothing starts at birth, just as few things end in death.

 Many, those I like, will tell you it started with an experiment gone wrong in a basement, and a mother who was lost too early. I don’t know if this started anything, but it did affect a lot of things. You must understand, some abilities don’t have a baseline because they don’t have a point of reference.

 An achingly large group will tell you it started with a prophecy, which is just… ugh. Prophecies aren’t there to start stories, they guide them.

  And many of the aforementioned will also waffle and say it started with a failed massacre. (Whether there’s one survivor or four, it’s a failure.)

 I could tell you how macabre I find that, but there are rather a lot of failed murders where we’re going, so I suppose I shouldn’t.

 As I said, there are many beginnings out there. Others claim it started with a letter, or with blood on the sidewalk, or a soft question under a tree. A threat to a young celebrity, maybe, or sharing a compartment on the train. A professor-murderer turning to dust under a child’s hands. Screaming from warnings ignored. Whispers against walls while children with quiet eyes observed.

 I find if we were to follow those theories, it wouldn't have started with any of the mentioned events. No, it would have started with the following acceptance. 

 The last claims I’ll mention are those from the people who claim it started when magic was first born. This is conceited, and yet it’s true. What is magic, if not intent and imagination? What are stories, if not the same?

 I’ve walked you through many of the other beginnings that will grow to be important, however vaguely. I’m afraid if I took you through all of them, we’d never reach our story. But if you pay attention, and perhaps review these passages here and there, they should clear up nicely.

 My favorite beginning is a bit more of a middle.

 On Wednesday, July twenty-fourth, nineteen-ninety-one, the day begins rather normally for a number of people. Assuming you aren’t utterly annoyed by my last set of openings, I’ll give you a few more quick ones before expanding upon my favorite.

 In a castle on the Scottish highlands, an owl wings away one day after its brother and moments after its friend, delivering a letter to a small muggle town. Eight months ago this same owl took nearly the same route, delivering a near-identical letter to the same house.

 In Potter Cottage, the man of the house heads to work while the woman reads. Their son sleeps in, having been up late last night practicing spells in secret. His letter will come today, delivered by the friend of our first owl. But he doesn’t need a booklist to get a wand.

 In number ten, Magnolia Crescent, an adult cracks open a door to check on their children, only to find both asleep, one over a book and the other on their back, sharing a pair of blue earbuds. The adult smiles and moves on.

 Within a wizarding mansion known as Chamois Hills, the heir is ensconced high in the library, despite the hour. Has he slept at all? Probably not.

 In Casa Di Cianuro, a child wakes up with a heaving chest and a black tongue. He doesn't remember going to sleep.

 In number eight, Magnolia Crescent, most of the tenants are sleeping, like many others. Magic was washed from this house six years ago, but sometimes those living there can still see something off. The hallway’s just barely too long, and the four year old is trying to figure out how they know that.

 (There’s an extra bedroom, sometimes).

 Back across the country, in a once-Selwyn Townhouse known as Tannis Villa, a child wakes up to tapping from one of the owls mentioned earlier. His school letter came yesterday, but the important letters, the one from his friends and brother, are coming today.

 In number four, Privet Drive, a woman cooks a large breakfast for her larger husband and son, cooing all the while. Their manners are atrocious, but she loves them anyway. They’re her only chance for a normal life.

 Now let’s hop over again, because in a territory off to the west of London, (or so I assume. Maps are a little… wrinkled here), there are two children laying on a bedroom floor. They’re in the middle bedroom, on the second story, of number ten, Magnolia Crescent.

 Harry Peverell and Fay Dunbar-Black are both asleep. Very typical, I know. Probably in the top fifty ways to start a story. I like this moment of peace, because it gives me a slow moment to let you meet our characters. And believe me, you’ll want your slow moments. Chaos dogs many a waking step.

 Hadrian Peverell, or Harry Potter, where most of the world are concerned, is ten only for another week. His skin is brown, excluding the marks of unnatural black. He has four as of today. A simplistic lightning bolt across his right cheek, a static edged circle on his left shoulder, a ragged near-triangle on his back, and a small line near his brain stem. The last mark is hidden under his hair at the moment, since he’s asleep on his stomach, using his arms as a pillow while the book he was reading six hours ago lays just to the side of his head.

 Harry’s hair is black, and the pieces still in the braid are nearly collarbone length. His sister braided it two days ago, and the flowers have been removed, but the braid hasn’t. The flyaways give a bit of a halo effect.

 He’s dressed in blue pyjamas that fit, contrary to many stories where someone with his name and some of his traits appear.

 Fay shifts, just barely, at this point. She looks a lot like her brother. Her skin is a pale brown that would match his if only a few shades deeper, and her hair is just as deep of a black. Her pyjamas are purple and black, and unlike Harry, she meant to fall asleep. It’s obvious in the way she’s on her back, shifted so she can share Harry’s earbuds and still be comfortable enough for sleep, and by the blanket that’s under her arm. Her hair is loose, and snarling something fierce. This is where the most obvious difference between the siblings will be seen; Fay’s hair is calmer than Harry’s when loose. She takes after her mother as much as he takes after his father.

 They both sleep like the dead, unmoving aside from their breathing. Sometimes that stutters too.

 Fay’s papa leans his head into the door, a soft smile on his face. Adrian Dunbar is a stark contrast to most of this family. Pale and blond, scottish to their indian, iranian, and latina, the biggest commonality he has with them is long hair. That’s never stopped him from loving his children, though by the standards of some, only one of them is really his. Adrian has never pretended to care. They’re his on paper and in heart, and that’s what matters.

 Adrian moves on, now that he’s assured himself that neither of his middle kids are missing, despite one bedroom being empty. There’s a three year old in the room beside Fay’s, who he checks on next. Ian’s parents had been killed in a car wreck two days ago, and the Dunbar-Black residences were looking after him until a safe permanent placement could be found

 Ian is also asleep, so again Adrian moves on. The lone room across the hall holds sixteen year old Caspian Ellington, who’s been with them almost as long as Harry. He’s awake, and drawing. Adrian knocks on the doorframe once, and Caspian looks up enough to wave and wish him a good morning.

 From there we follow Adrian to the end of the currently short hall, past the bedroom at the top of the stairs, and down into the main house. He walks past the living room, which is empty, past the cupboard under the staircase, which he can see into since they removed the door years ago. Into the kitchen, where his wife is glaring down at the pancake griddle.

 Vivian Dunbar looks over and smiles. “Morning, love. You get enough sleep?”

 Adrian shrugs, coming up to stand beside her. “I hope so. Carl said the tox screen and the metal residue were enough to match a suspect, so it should be over until I have to go to court again.”

 “So not enough sleep, but you’re fine with that because you got justice instead?”

 Adrian laughs and bumps noses with his wife. “Got it started, at least. The kids are all still asleep. Any word from Reg?”

 “Not yet,” and although Vivian’s tone is wry, it’s my job to tell you she’s hiding worry. Vivian’s best friend, Regulus Black, returned to a terrible place two days ago, on an investigative kick. The last time the three of them got together in that place, Regulus was nearly killed.

 “He’ll call Kreature if something happens,” Adrian says. His tone is solid, but he’s just as worried. Last time, Regulus didn’t. “He wouldn’t leave the kids.”

 “Of course not,” Vivian agrees, as if it’s obvious. And it is; if anything can be said for Regulus Black it’s that he cares for his kids, as many as those are. She’s reassured by the statement anyway.

 They continue on for a little while, spending a lazy summer morning together before having to go their separate ways for work that doesn’t end by the season. Adrian still has to complete the autopsies for Ian’s parents, and Vivian works with Regulus in CPS.

 But before they split, they’re joined by the kids. Fay leads the way, her hair loose but brushed straight and dressed in a denim dress over leggings. “Morning Mama! Morning Papa.” She greets her parents with hugs.

 She’s followed by Harry, who’s carrying Ian. He’s dressed in a graphic-t under a flannel and jeans, and his hair still hasn’t been redone. Ian’s in plain blue and white, wide blue eyes smiling under red hair.

 The last in is Caspian, brown eyes smiling, with a pencil tucked behind his ear and poking out of dark hair.

 “Well if it isn’t Thing Three,” Adrian grins, greeting him with a forehead kiss.

 “Dadri. Did you find the cause of death?”

 “Not as such, but I found something. Tell you when it hits the court. My bet is on poison, though.”

 Harry grins, moving to cut a pancake into smaller pieces for Ian. “We certainly do love poisons.”

 “Poison and acid are not the same thing!” Fay and Caspian chorus.

 Vivian laughs. I won’t explain the inside joke yet, but I will tell you it is one, and it concerns melting enchanted metal.

 By the time Harry has his own breakfast plated and begins eating, the last to do so since he’s on toddler duty this meal, Cadmus has returned and descended softly onto his tier of the dining room perch. Harry clicks his tongue, and the dark owl moves to settle on his bare forearm. “Hey buddy, what did Nev say?” Cadmus screeches an owl affirmative. “All good things? Good.” Harry bumps his nose to Cadmus’ beak. “Can I read it?”

 Cadmus sticks out his leg in response.

 “Thanks, Little One.”

 Cadmus alights, and returns to the perch. Noctua looks down at him and chirps. Cadmus returns the sound, and Vivian tuts her own response. “Not during breakfast, please.”

 Noctua screeches again, high and short, but both owls listen.

 Of course, magical post owls are very smart, so it isn’t at all surprising that they can follow commands. Due to being both magical and extremely intelligent, Cadmus and his fellows only appear when convenient, unless a letter is exceedingly urgent. Often post owls greet their charges or recipients at breakfast, as correspondence will always be a good way to open a day.

 “Did he like the Calendar?” Fay asks around a strawberry. Even I do not know where the strawberry came from, as she is the only one with any. Some things are not worth the narrative stress. 

 “Let a guy read, Faerie-circle.” Fay stuck her tongue out, bouncing in her seat. Harry unfolded the letter and started reading around eating. “He says thank you, but it hasn’t been long enough for the calendar to really start working so he hasn’t mentioned the fun features.”

 “Heck yeah!” Fay shrieked, pumping a fist into the air.

 “Yeah!” Ian agreed.

 Caspian reached over and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Would you like more food, Ian?”

 “No.”

 Conversations slowed down for a little while, but picked back up when another owl, this one tawny, slammed into the kitchen window.

 “I wonder how many hits it takes to kill an owl?” Harry said.

 “Or a concussion?” Fay countered. “Can owls even get concussions?”

 “If an animagus gets a concussion as an owl, will it carry over when they transform back?” Caspian asks, flicking his fingers. A fissure of black smoke reaches out and shatters the window, allowing the owl inside. “Think it’s from Dad?”

 Noctua screeches in displeasure at the mere idea of her human using another owl.

 “Hush, baby,” Vivian says, leaning backwards to pet her soothingly. “Why don’t you open it, Caspian?”

 “Looks like a ministry owl,” Adrian says as Caspian follows Vivian’s instructions. “More likely Amelia.”

 Caspian hums confirmingly as he reads through the blue-inked letter. “She’s confirming the count for dinner tomorrow. Think Dad’ll be back?”

 The table was quiet. Harry watched black smoke curl around the letter. No one was willing to say what they were all thinking.

 Vivian broke the silence after a minute, moving out of her seat. “I’ll write her back, let her know we haven’t heard from him. Do you three have any plans today?”

 “Harry’s supposed to get his Hogwarts letter,” Fay said, taking the subject change and running with it. “And the new Scooby-Doo is supposed to be on this afternoon.” Meanwhile, Harry and Caspian were having a silent conversation made up mostly of grabby hands and making faces.

 “I need to go to the library,” Harry says, looking away from his cousin-slash-brother to glance at his aunt. “I’ll probably walk.”

 Caspian grins sharply and hands the unopened second letter to Adrian. “I don’t have anything planned.”

 “Purple ink, Uncle Adrian?” Harry asks, tilting towards the table.

 “Mhm,” Adrian hums, reading the letter. “It’s an offer for the research project I wanted to try, in conjunction with one of their cases.”

 “A good offer?” Vivian asks, returning to the table with a pen.

 “Seems to be.” He stands up, kisses his three kids’ foreheads, ruffles Ian’s hair, and kisses his wife full on. “I’ll floo her now, see what’s what. Come get me if you need anything?” He takes the required minute to take care of his dishes before leaving for his lab. I would hope I don’t have to tell you he enjoys his job, and is nearly always willing to take a case.

 The case in question isn’t important right now, but it does give me a nice segway. The tawny owl that brought the letter came from Amelia Bones’ office in the Ministry of Magic. Ministry owls are trained differently than casual post owls. These owls care nothing for convenience, only time management. While they’re wonderful for proving owls are magical, it does make sending messages after arriving to work a little awkward. Amelia had been at this for years, so she knew when to send them off so they could at least pretend to be considerate.

 Vivian sends Noctua with their response, and the dark speckled owl takes a little more time to return to the Ministry. She is not a Ministry owl, but she is both smart and fast.

 Noctua slips across air currents like the professional she is, and once she finds the owl window, she glides inside and past the ministry owls.

 Noctua is both professional and a metaphoric queen, and she considers only two owls worth her time. Cadmus, because his owlet is her owlet's nestling, and Albert, because he was smart and cared more for his nestlings than he did about retirement. Any other owls, especially the Ministry's unbonded and inconsiderate owls, aren't worth the dust off her wings.

 She screeched in warning when one of the unbonded owlets dive bombed her, and then she swooped to the side and into the building itself.

 Honestly.

 This trip of hers took about three hours, so when Noctua landed in the auror's office, Amelia was on her way back from the field. She ruffled her feathers importantly, and glared at Walnut. Walnut's owlet was a big, fusty human who looked like the egg-father of Cadmus’ owlet, and Noctua did not like that. Human parents were supposed to keep their chicks in the nest for much longer than owls, and the fact that the fusty human had never come to see his chick was wrong. Noctua knew her owlet made his nest out of human chicks who had been harmed by their parents, whose owls and other protectors failed.

 That meant Walnut’s owlet deserved his eyes pecked out. Noctua hadn’t done it yet because she was a Black owl, and knew better than to attack with so many witnesses.

 Amelia and the fusty owlet entered the room together, and Noctua rustled to get Amelia’s attention. Amelia’s nest of chicks includes Albert’s owlet, and Amelia helps Noctua’s owlet find safe nests for other chicks. Amelia is okay.

 Amelia notices Noctua as she walks past, and holds up her arm for Noctua to alight to. Noctua glares at the fusty human, but stays in her place on Amelia’s arm. He breaks off when their conversation ends, and Amelia is finally able to turn to Noctua.

 “Thank you, Noctua,” Amelia says seriously. “Will they need a reply?”

 Noctua screeches a negative as Amelia pulls the letter away from her foot. Amelia reads the letter as she moves into her office, and when she finishes she looks over at Noctua and hums pityingly. Amelia pets her head, and decides to reply anyway. 

 Vivian,

  Thank you for letting me know. See you tomorrow evening, the girls have missed you guys.

 (And remind Adrian to sleep. The cadavers aren’t going anywhere.)

-Amelia

And for the second letter, well, it’s as much for Noctua as it is for Amelia. She has no doubts Regulus told Noctua to stay with the others unless they needed to contact him.

 Regulus,

  You’re worrying people again. If you need an investigative team, I have benched agents who would love something new. Please don’t miss dinner - Delphi might cry. She’s been trying to read that book on the mind arts since you left, and I haven’t been able to answer any of her questions.

 Susan’s joined Delphi in trying to learn, but I don’t know if it’s actually helpful. Hannah got her hair colored, too, and between that and Delphi’s tendencies, I think they’re plotting to make Susan’s match.

 That said, nothing is truly going haywire on our end. If the choice is between you home safe or you home soon, I can guarantee that despite our worry, we’d all agree safe is better.

 Call for backup if you need it.

-Amelia Bones, DMLE

 When Noctua takes the letters out, she ends up in the lift with the fusty human. Noctua considers it, and then takes the deplorable step to land on his head. His hair is puffy and messy, and unfairly soft. Rat bones like him shouldn’t have downy hair. Walnut looks and her and hisses, smart enough to know this isn’t a cease-fire. Noctua chirps back lightly, and gets Fusty to softly tell off Walnut for being rude.

 Noctua considers this a win. When the lift reaches her floor, she pees on his head and takes off. Fusty swears behind her, and Walnut hisses again.

 As Noctua leaves, I’m going to stay with Fusty.

 Firstly, you should know his name is actually James. James Potter, and he’s an auror, but before that he is a friend, a husband, and a father.

 The second thing you should know, is that Noctua is both biased and misinformed. Not completely wrong where the facts are concerned, but the conclusions she drew were incorrect.

 James is headed home early today, because today is the twenty-fourth and his son is supposed to receive his Hogwarts letter today. That gives them a little over a month to schedule a supply run, but most parents take their child to Diagon on their birthday, not the day they get their letter. James and his wife, Lily, are planning to go today in the hopes that it will help mitigate the crowds.

 Augusta Longbottom, a friend of Lily’s, offered to take the Potters with her when she took her grandson yesterday, (I believe I mentioned him earlier? Neville’s his name.) but the Potters refused. They wanted this milestone to be done properly, despite their son’s fame.

 Ah. Do you have questions yet? I hope so. By now, James has arrived outside his own door, so it’s time to answer some of them.

 Not that I’ll actually tell you anything this time.

 No, that wouldn’t be nearly enough fun.

 James opens his door and enters the entryway. After the explosion that destroyed their cottage the first time, they moved in with his cousins for a short time while repairs were being made, but returned when they could. Lily refused to leave the site as a memorial, and after a few years people stopped coming to gawk at the once-battle ground. 

 The two-story, four-bedroom cottage is all they need for their small family, and despite their ability to live lavishly, none of them want to.

 James is greeted first by his son, Connor Potter. Connor has light brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark, bird’s nest hair. His glasses are basic, round wire frames, and beside his father, he nearly looks like him in miniature. The easiest difference to see, beyond age, is how James’ skin is darker. Another one is the rune carved into Connor's forehead; sowilo, or a lighting strike. While James has scars - you can’t work in a firing zone and avoid them - none of them are this stark or shapely. Connor barrels into James for a hug, which is easily and enthusiastically returned. “Did you get it?” James’ voice is loud, bright with love and enthusiasm.

 “I got it!” Connor agrees with a bright smile. None of them really doubted that he would get his Hogwarts letter, but it’s still very rewarding to hit the milestone that almost every important wixen in Britain reaches. Hogwarts, once a refuge for any wix in need, is now prestigious, and the Potters have attended for centuries.

 While they’d never admit it to Connor, after their scare with Harry (and see, now is one of those moments where I as a narrator wish the characters had my brand of omniscience, it would solve so many problems) Lily and James both looked into other options. They’re glad to not use them.

 “That’s great! Congratulations, Bucktooth.”

 “Dad,” Connor whines. It’s an old nickname, and like most of the Marauder nicknames, it’s obvious if you’ve known the subject.

 “You’ll be gone for months,” James whines exaggeratedly. “I have to get in my dose of teasing before you leave.”

 “Ulch.” Connor makes a face.

 This is when Lily Potter catches up to them. She’s white, with a dark red bob and bright green eyes. As a teenager, they were interesting, but now they’re eye-catching. They’ve glowed so many times that the excess light seems to stay just behind her irises.

 “Don’t tease him too much, Jamie,” she nudged her husband with a grin. “He’s outgrowing it, remember?”

 James huffs in mock offense. “All the more reason to get in as much as I can!”

 Connor rolls his eyes and pulls away from the hug. “So can we go yet? Please?”

 “After lunch, Bucktooth,” James reminds him. Connor huffs, but lets them leave the entryway/living room and migrate to the kitchen. Conversation stays trained on Hogwarts; the supply lists, stories of Lily and James’ glory days, the best secret passages and the perfect place to place pranks against the Slytherins. And, of course, “Don’t forget to write us either! I want so many details I feel like I’m the one going to school.”

 Connor starts laughing at that. When he calms down, his next question is slightly pointed. “Is Uncle Moony joining us?”

 “Last I knew,” Lily says. “We’ll meet up in the Leaky Cauldron.”

 “Awesome.”

 The three Potters eat quickly, and the only thing that holds them back from leaving right away is a letter to the Weasleys, since Connor forgot to send one out earlier. They send Walnut; Connor will buy an owl of his own today, but they haven’t needed two before now.

 I’m tempted to follow Walnut, but while the Weasleys are incredibly important for a multitude of reasons, I know you won’t need to meet them today. You’ll meet them plenty soon, I promise.

 Instead, I’m going to break the rules of time-space for what is going to be the first of many times. It’s a narrator’s right, you see, to tell a story as we see fit. Now, if you’ll follow me back a few hours to when the Potter household received their letter from Hogwarts, I can tell you three very important things.

 It arrived with an owl. One of the many magical owls I mentioned earlier, trained specifically as post owls, but also trained to be unbonded. This was a Hogwarts owl. They were a common barn owl, much like Walnut. They stayed only long enough for an acceptance note to be written, and to take a drink of water. After that, they took to the skies again, and returned to the castle.

 This is important because once this barn owl reached the castle and delivered the letter, the letter was put in a pile with many others; including the acceptance letter from Harry Potter.

 Not that the Potter letters are the only ones in this pile. They could be, if one Minerva McGonagall opened letters every-day, but she also had a life to live, so it’s understandable she couldn’t.

 The other letters in this pile include notable names like Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom, Sue Li, Tracey Davis, Susan Bones, and Stephen Cornfoot.

 I could take you to see any or all of them, if I were so inclined. Instead, I’m going to find Noctua again.

 This darling speck of darkness in the sky has long-since alighted upon the shoulder of her owlet, as being convenient in this instance is more to the owl’s liking than the human’s.

 Regulus Black, however, takes the arrival of his owl with minimal panic and a smile for his darling. “Good afternoon, Noctua. How are things at home?”

 She chirps an affirmative, not wanting Regulus to worry. He runs his fingers over her crown, the speckled feathers soft.

 “I’m glad. What’ve you brought me?”

 She sticks her leg out to give him the letter from Amelia, and he takes them both off. He sorts them quickly and reattaches Vivian’s.

 He smiles at Amelia’s letter, the unsubtle updates on some of his kids and the clear offers. They’re colleagues, professionally, and friends otherwise.

 The area he’s in is near Mappleton (I think. Again, I must apologize - magic makes everything a little slippery, including landmasses and landmarks.) and hasn’t been much help in his research project. The only thing he was able to find was an old fire site. Once there was an orphanage and a church, with some apartments flanking them. Now there is a large hotel.

 “A gas fire,” the few locals who remember the change say.

 A mission, a raid, Barty’s journals say.

 ‘Revenge,’ Regulus thinks. ‘Covering his tracks.’ Finding records of the children who were raised here was slow going, since he had yet to find any surviving members of the administration. Or any surviving family of even one administrator.

 And the library. Goodness. The library. Regulus was a Slytherin and proud, but his Ravenclaw side (the little voice that's all that remains of his once best friend) wants to dive headfirst into the challenge of finding anything useful in that mess.

 Instead he's trying to figure out what coded method of organization is used before he tries to find the information he needs. It's not working.

 Since, when we found him, Regulus was walking through the town on his own, leaving the library to find one of the quaint muggle restaurants that was specific to the area and might truly benefit from him eating there, it was easy for Noctua to find him.

 And, more important to both the story I've been tasked to tell and Regulus' investigation, being in the open instead of his hotel when Noctua appeared will be what finally gets Regulus a clue.

 Not yet though.

 First, Regulus reaches the small ice cream and burger shop. It's not until he's almost at the door that he remembers it's a muggle establishment, and therefore would probably not take too well to owls inside the building. Noctua has been perched on his shoulder since she found him, so he just has to turn his head to look at her. "Would you mind waiting outside, countess?"

 Noctua looks at him, yellow eyes hard, before taking just a second to preen his hair and take off. He smiles at her, and continues on his way.

 The building is small, and offers both booths and bar seating. Regulus takes the bar, and chats with the old man behind it.

 It's an odd thought that this man would be barely older than his father, had Orion Black lived, when he looks decades older than Orion had.

 Once Regulus has eaten, save for the meat he will give Noctua, he clears his small area, thanks the man, and deserts the place. His conversation won him nothing but goodwill and an appreciation for combs, but in the twelve years since he last investigated something like this he has learned to be grateful for that too.

 Regulus offers the food to Noctua as soon as he is accessible, holding it in his metal hand because he knows his owl to be violent sometimes and he does like his remaining fingers. Noctua takes it like she's winning a contest, nearly hitting the concrete behind Regulus before looping around and swooping up to land on his shoulder. The metal doesn't climb all the way up to his shoulder, but she does land on the same arm.

 A few steps back towards the library, Noctua nips his ear and huffs.

 "And what do you think I should tell them?" Regulus asks, picking up on her meaning well enough. "I'm safe just like I promised, but there's been no progress beyond confirming what I already knew?"

 She coos an affirmative, and starts preening his hair.

 "We're all codependent, aren't we?" Regulus' last question is less of a question and more of a resigned statement. Noctua keeps preening, like he’s a baby owlet.

 There's an old lady at the door to the library when they get there. Regulus smiles at her, and turns to ask Noctua if she can wait outside until he has a response letter, but before he can get beyond Noctua's name, the lady is talking.

 "You are one of them, then?"

 "I beg your pardon?" Regulus turns back to give her his full attention.

 "There was a boy like you here once. Years and years ago. Sadistic. A devil child. They say he returned to burn the orphanage and kill those who tried to tame him."

 Regulus swallows. It wasn't untrue.

 "Oh yes," the lady continues on, wispy hair fettered by sudden wind. "I tried, I tell you. But it wasn't enough. He came back from that school every year darker, quicker to lash out."

 "They taught him bigotry," Regulus says softly, a confirmation. “Taught him that the only way to earn respect was through fear.”

 “Did they teach you that too?” The woman asks.

 Regulus’ answering smile is wry. “They tried. And it worked, for a little while.”

 “You don’t have the look of vileness,” she remarks shrewdly. “They failed?”

 “I saw how far I was going, and when I defected I met people who taught me better.”

 She nods, sharp and serious. “Then you are looking for something.”

 “Yes.”

 “I will help. What do you need?”

 Regulus looks at her, really looks at her, considering. “They say Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies. I want to find and destroy them. I need the names of those he grew up with.”

 “You have

questions.”

 “Yes.”

 The woman smiles. “I’m Loretta,” she says suddenly. “Follow me.”

 Regulus grins, but Noctua nips his ear. He sends her an unamused look. “May I send a letter, first?”

 “Do as you must.”

[aivhub]

Jaspersoft Consultancy

AIVHub offers expert Jaspersoft consultancy and training services designed to help businesses leverage the full potential of their data. Their comprehensive training programs cover essential aspects of Jaspersoft, including report creation, dashboard design, data integration, and advanced analytics. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced user, AIVHub ensures a hands-on learning experience, empowering participants to build and manage sophisticated reporting solutions. Additionally, AIVHub’s consultancy services guide businesses in deploying, optimizing, and maintaining Jaspersoft tools effectively, enabling better decision-making and enhancing business intelligence capabilities. Unlock your organization’s data potential with AIVHub's tailored Jaspersoft training and consultancy services.

[materialmangementinsap]

Unlocking the Potential of SAP CPI: A Comprehensive Guide

Today, the use of SAP CPI is a cloud-based services is used quite naturally in parallel with established on-premises systems. Due to security, cost and management needs, the rate of companies moving their applications to the cloud is increasing day by day. The increase in applications and systems that organizations use both in the cloud and on premise has made it difficult to work and manage them together. Among the platforms that promise to realize various integration scenarios real-time and make services equally available in the cloud, the best known and most used is SAP Cloud Integration.

Versatile SAP Cloud Integration Modules:

SAP Cloud Integration is adaptable to a range of integration scenarios, including:

Cloud to Cloud

On-Premise to On-Premise

Cloud to On-Premise

Business to Business (B2B)

Business to Government (B2G)

Key Features of SAP Cloud Integration:

Connectivity: SAP Cloud Integration offers secure, reliable, and high-performance connectivity for all on premise and cloud-based applications. It supports various protocols (EDI, AS2, SFTP, and HTTP/S) and a variety of integration and data formats (XML, JSON, EDI, flat files).

Business Process Orchestration: The platform provides the capability to orchestrate complex processes spanning multiple applications, services, and platforms. Users can create, monitor, and configure process flows and integration rules.

Data Transformation: SAP Cloud Integration allows for data transformation, including data mapping between different systems, format conversion, and the application of data-cleansing rules.

Data Quality and Governance: The platform ensures data accuracy, compliance, and security. Users can monitor data quality, define data policies, and enforce data governance rules.

Analytics and Monitoring: SAP Cloud Integration facilitates performance monitoring, alerting, and provides insights into data flow. Users can effectively track the movement of data across applications, services, and platforms.

SAP CPI serves as a bridge between the diverse worlds of on premise and cloud systems. With the appropriate training, organizations and individuals can leverage this platform to optimize business processes, enhance data security, and gain real-time insights while reducing operational costs.

Why Should Companies Use SAP Cloud Integration?

In the era of digital transformation, leveraging the capabilities of SAP Cloud Integration has become an imperative for businesses. Here's why companies should consider adopting SAP Cloud Integration as a key component of their technology strategy:

1. Customization and Adaptability:

SAP Cloud Integration empowers organizations to tailor integration designs to their specific needs. It allows for quick project launches with prebuilt integration solutions. Whether it's connecting SAP systems or integrating SAP with non-SAP systems, this platform offers the flexibility to make it happen rapidly, whether both systems are in the cloud or one is on premise.

2. User-Friendly Interface:

SAP Cloud Integration is renowned for its user-friendly interface. It caters to both business users and developers, ensuring that integration tasks are accessible to a wider audience. With its drag-and-drop functionality, mapping data elements and processes becomes a breeze, reducing the learning curve for users and streamlining integration efforts.

3. Seamless Information Exchange:

One of the standout features of SAP Cloud Integration is its ability to facilitate information exchange between systems, regardless of their location, structure, or technology. This means that data can flow freely, whether it's within your organization's internal systems, or between cloud-based and on premise solutions.

4. Integration Engine and Open-Source Architecture:

At the core of SAP Cloud Integration is the Integration Engine, built on the open-source Eclipse BIRT architecture. This foundation allows the platform to integrate various data sources into a common model representation, simplifying complex integration scenarios. It's the driving force that makes SAP Cloud Integration capable of connecting the dots between different systems seamlessly.

SAP CPI is a game-changer for businesses looking to optimize their technology infrastructure. It enables customization, offers a user-friendly interface, and facilitates seamless information exchange between diverse systems. With its Integration Engine and open-source architecture, it stands as a reliable and scalable solution for companies aiming to thrive in the digital age. By adopting SAP Cloud Integration, businesses can unlock a world of integration possibilities and enhance their competitive edge.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Dawn Chorus - X

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 7.2k.

Reading Time: 29 min.

Warnings: blood drinking, brief comparison to addiction, consensual non-consent, creampie, degradation, knife play, mild fear play, moderately painful sex, PTSD (a bit), restraint, ritual sex, slut shaming, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976

🔞 MDNI 🔞

You felt scared. While you knew that Copia wouldn’t hurt you, at least, not anything you didn’t agree to, you couldn’t help but notice your surroundings. The Devil and his bride’s cold eyes watching the scene play out, boring into your soul as if they knew your deepest, darkest secrets. The red pentagram on the floor, which stood out against the black and white chequerboard of the Basilica floor, haunting… threatening. A promise that you wouldn’t leave this sacred space without being fundamentally changed first. There was still a voice in the back of your head that asked you, what if? What if Copia taking your purity the other day turned out to not be the correct thing to do? What if the ritual worked?

Besides the fear, the pentagram, and the statue, you were surrounded by ghouls to the point where they formed a perfect circle around the ritual site. Their eyes were hidden beneath their masks, most of them anyway, but even so, you could tell they were watching you - anticipating your move like an animal drawn to the slaughter about to make her final escape attempt.

And then there was Imperator. Blonde hair pushed back into a tight bun, hazel eyes trained solely on you with a darkness to them that unsettled you. A shiver travelled down your spine as you felt the weight of her gaze on you, never relenting, never giving you respite. That same weighty book sat in her hands, open to a page where the rite would be read by her, methodically following instructions down to each dot and every crossbar.

You stopped fighting Copia to take it all in, your heart racing and your eyes darting from ghoul to ghoul until eventually, the Sister’s voice broke the silence. “Now, are we ready?”

“Yes,” Copia said, his voice just as dark as hers.

“In your positions, then.”

Copia tugged on the chain he was holding and pulled you towards him, your chests flush and your flushed face trained onto his. He removed his hand from the chain and placed both of them on your biceps, tightly holding you in place. “Are you going to behave for me, Angel?” he asked, a taunting edge to his voice that stabbed your heart.

It was the same tone he’d used with you before… before the gentility, before the touches and the pleasure… before you became more than just a plaything to him. His gaze upon you was just as cold and sadistic as it was when he first met you, too. You couldn’t help but wonder, had anything changed at all? Did he actually care about you like he seemed he did? Did he prioritise your pleasure and well-being because he was genuinely sorry for his actions? Or was he playing you - turning you into a guitar to strum alongside the beat of his rhythm to add to his hellish ensemble? Was all of this just simply a ruse to get what he wanted, your well-being be damned, the destruction of your purity a mere obstacle to overcome in his grand, evil plan?

“Let go of me!” you ordered, protesting him violently again once you’d found your courage. You began to try and shake free from his grip, but his fingers had dug into your flesh too tightly for your escape to be possible.

“I thought we’d got over this, Angel,” he taunted. “I thought you were my obedient little whore now.”

Your blood ran cold. Could he hear your thoughts?

“I will never be yours,” you hissed. “You are delusional if you think otherwise.”

“Delusional, you say?” He laughed. “Then why do you keep coming back to me, begging for more?” He leaned forward and levelled his mouth to your ear. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued, “You can’t resist, and we both know it.” He backed away. “We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way, Angel. Your choice.”

You managed to wriggle free of his grasp, and tried to swing your hands at his face, despite the fact that they were still tied together. Of course, you couldn’t move quick enough, and he grabbed hold of your wrists easily and pushed them down to your waist. “The hard way, then.”

He reached round to the back pocket of his jeans and pulled something out of it, bringing it quickly to your throat. You felt it, the cold, sharp metal of a switch blade you had no idea he’d brought with him. You remembered him telling you that he had to be cruel to make it believable - was this what he meant?

You gasped, your chest rising and falling quickly with the exertions of your breath. He pressed the blade into your skin, enough to knick it should you move at all. You had no choice now but to remain perfectly still, otherwise tragedy could strike. Unexpectedly, your body reacted in a different way. Heat pooled in your core as you felt the sharp edge against your throat. Your stomach flipped at the darkness in which Copia was looking at you. After already feeling him inside you, the gentility of the act from before, to now the viscousness on display, there was something inside you that felt excited for the ritual now - pleasure by force, even if it was all just an act in the end. You clenched your thighs together in hopes of stopping the wetness from spilling out of you, but you wondered if Imperator could smell it just as you knew Copia could. Would she be able to tell?

“Cardinal,” the Sister said from behind him. Your eyes flickered to her. “Are you going to play with her all day, or are we going to get on with this?”

He turned you around and pushed you into the centre of the pentagram before looking at his ghouls. “Chains,” he commanded, his voice much more authoritative than it had been before. Three ghouls came up behind you. You felt one of them undoing the chains of your wings while the other two held onto each wing to stop you from flapping away and attempting escape. You would have fought them, but with Copia’s knife still to your throat there was no way you could without getting yourself hurt. Each ghoul that had held your wings now spread them out fully. You felt two separate chains get wrapped around each one, and once they were tied, Copia lowered you to the floor so that you would be trapped there beneath him. He removed the knife from you and backed away, allowing his ghouls to take your arms and legs and spread them out too, tying you down to… well, something nearby, until you were completely trapped and at his mercy. You tried to pull at the chains, but thanks to that knife, the only opportunity to escape came and went before you had chance to truly seize it.

“She needs to be naked, Cardinal,” Imperator instructed, her eyes reading from the book. “You should have removed her robes first.”

“Well, the ritual will have to make do with her clothed,” Copia snapped. “There’s nothing to be done now.”

“You have a knife, don’t you?”

Copia stopped for a second, looking at you with unreadable eyes. “Sister, we’re in a room filled with people… her dignity… she’s already-”

“I couldn’t care less,” the Sister snapped. “We have to follow the instructions down to the last detail or the ritual won’t work. Are you trying to sabotage us, Cardinal?”

“No, but-”

“Then use that knife!”

Copia sighed and knelt down in between your legs. He reached up and gripped hold of your robe’s bodice, fingers skimming over the skin of your breasts. He dug the knife into the fabric and cut downwards, the sound of the fabric tearing filling the Basilica, echoing off the marble. You could feel the point of the blade lightly skimming over your stomach, nowhere near deep enough to draw blood but enough to remind you that he could; that he had a weapon in his hands and he was going to use it to defile you more. The thought alone caused slick to appear between your legs.

Once your robes were cut in half, Copia pushed the loose flaps off your body, exposing you to the room - something else that shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. You were embarrassed and vulnerable, in a room filled with people who could put you in danger at a moment’s notice… but that was also precisely what made it so hot; you were totally at the mercy of the enemy, and you’d already experienced how good that felt before.

But this amount of exposure wasn’t good enough for the Sister. “Her straps, too,” she commanded, observing every detail.

Copia rolled his eyes and sliced through the fabric of your straps, pulling your completely destroyed and irreparable attire out from underneath you. Your bare back was flush against the marble flooring, causing you to whine at the cold feeling beneath you. It was that temperature change that made your nipples harden… at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

The Sister looked at her book and began to read from it. “In nomine…” Latin… she was speaking Latin. “In the name of darkness and shadow, we summon the powers of hell. Let this divine light be corrupted, and all holiness be reduced to dust…”

Copia undid his trouser buttons and released himself from his jeans… not even half hard yet. He looked at you and for the first time you could see a little panic in his eyes. If he wasn’t the one to complete this ritual, someone else would take his place. He wandered his eyes over your body, staring at your cunt in the process and biting his lip at just how wet you’d become since the start. He ran his gloved hand over your slit and gathered your slick swiping it against his tongue - apparently, that was enough to get him fully prepared.

“Abandoned sacraments, symbols of holiness, now sink into obscurity. The divinity of the angel, devoured by darkness, is soon changed into a demon under Your guiding light, oh Dark One…”

He lined himself up to your entrance and sank all the way in, and you noted that he was going slowly, to not hurt you any more than he was already. You screamed out in pain, a little more exaggerated than what you were actually feeling for the Sister’s benefit, but even so it still hurt you. Your walls stretched around his girth with no preparation, just the wetness your body had produced despite the situation.

You couldn’t help but notice Copia’s features, tightly screwed up at the feeling of being completely buried inside you. You may have been hurt, but he felt so good. His bottom lip trapped beneath his teeth to stop himself from calling out and keep his head in the moment. You knew from the last time you were joined like this, that he could so quickly lose control inside of you and right now that would be the worst possible option.

He put the knife to your throat again, and leaned down over you, keeping his mouth to your ear. “I care for you, and I need you to remember that,” he whispered. “Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

He moved back, hovering above you as he began to thrust in and out of you, a relentless pace being set at the get go. You cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure in your voice with each hit of your cervix by the head of his cock. You’d have given anything to run your fingernails over his back, the overwhelming feeling of being fucked proving too much already, and you were only at the start.

The Sister’s voice grew louder as she continued speaking, distracting you from what was going on briefly with Copia’s cock deep inside you. “Let the shadows come and corrupt the light. Let the demons come and invade the body, let your holy blood spill from your skin and make room for the darkness. Your divinity, Angel, is now reduced to nothing…” Her empty hand was raised up, and you could almost see the dark tendrils of energy swirling around her, the Hell that she brought to the mortal realm through her words and her worship alone. There was a small fear that bubbled in your stomach, your mind telling you that this was truly the end for you.

That was when you felt it, a sharp slice to your collar bone where Copia had cut into your skin, spilling your blood from beneath. His pupils were blown out as he focussed on your blood, watching it drip up your shoulder and onto the floor, merging into the red paint below you. It hurt - but you tightened.

“You l-like this, Angel?” Copia asked, hammering deep into you yet still staring at your blood. “Mmm, fuck. I thought you’d like the pain - the biggest whores do.”

“I am not a-”

“You think I can’t feel how wet you are?” He slammed into you particularly violently, making the stream of blood zigzag at the force. “How ti-ight you grip me? Fuck. Never felt someone… tighten like this when th-their blood is spilled except whores.”

You couldn’t understand how something so painful could end up feeling so good, especially when all the right parts of you were singing with pleasure now that you’d gotten used to the stretch around Copia. He bent down and ran his tongue over the blood, ingesting it after quite some time. His words were cruel, but like the physical pain, it all heightened the sensation and had you fighting back moans.

He sucked at your blood for a while before making a second cut beneath your breast, on your stomach, immediately dipping his head to suckle from that stream too. He grunted at the taste of you, but also the feeling of your cunt strangling his cock. His other hand was on your hip, keeping himself pressed flushed into you to help him fuck you as roughly as possible. The more drops of you he drank, the more intoxicated he got, too mesmerised by the blood he’d not drank for too long. He couldn’t afford to lose his mind, but there he was giving over to his base instincts, and taking from your body just as he had done before.

He sat on his knees for a moment and watched you beneath him: you looked sinful. Wings spread out majestically yet chained to the ground - a powerful beast of Heaven resorted to a mere toy for him to fuck in his unhallowed place of worship. Your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts, body jiggling with the force of him using your body as he pleased, and as his Dark Lord had ordered. Your blood, now spilling from two cuts, dripping off your body like a crimson stream that pooled and gathered within the pentagram below. He wasn’t sure if it was the effect of your blood taking hold, but he swore the red paint had a glow to it, as though the ritual was actually working. Even so, you looked delectable, perfectly edible. And he quite simply couldn’t get enough.

“This cunt,” he panted, bucking into you while saying each word. “Sathanas - feels so fucking good!”

He ran the knife between the valley of your breasts, lightly pressing the metal into your skin. He pulled it down over the expanse of your stomach, tracing it in curved lines until he reached your groin, moving over to your pubic mound. You clenched again, anticipating a nick but nothing came. What was wrong with you today? Why was all of this turning you on so much?

“Filthy slut,” he hissed.

“I-it,” you stuttered. You tried to talk but it was difficult enough to breathe, let alone vocalise what you were feeling. “It’s t-too mu-ah! Much!”

“It isn’t for me.”

He gripped tightly onto your hip and picked up the pace, knife running against your bare skin just as a threat more so than anything else. You were so helpless beneath him and he loved it, blood pumping through your veins, a small hint of fear mixing with your arousal, the sound of your heartbeat rising. The tightening of your hole as he did the most heinous shit to your body and you accepted it willingly, despite being told to fight against him in the first place. This accompanied by the taste of your blood on his tongue, and warming his own insides. He wasn’t the man he used to be, the man who took your virginity. He was barely in control of himself. He was feral, desperate - more so than you. And he couldn’t stop himself. It felt too good - you felt too good.

“You’re g-gonna think about this later, aren’t you?” he muttered, mostly to himself but directed at you. “T-Touch yourself thinking about me d-defiling you, taking any in-innocence that was left. F-Fucking hell. It’s always the good girls who f-follow the rules that like the f-filthiest f-fuck, huh? I w-wonder what else you’d let me get away with.”

The more he spoke, the darker his voice became, until eventually he was practically growling at you. He bent down, hovering his body over yours until he was face-to-face with you, and put the knife to your throat, exactly where the scars to his very first bite mark was, and thought for a moment. “My teeth, or my knife?”

“N-neither,” you moaned slightly.

“My teeth… or my fucking knife.”

“You-your teeth.”

“From the sacred lands, from the divine books, all sanctity is now turned into night. The symbols of purity are perverted, and she is transformed into a demon…”

He threw the knife away, and you watched it slide across the marble and skid to a halt right before a ghoul’s boot. Copia hissed, a sound you hadn’t heard from him before, yet that sound stopped when his fangs penetrated your neck, piercing your skin and allowing yet more blood to escape you into his mouth. He grunted, groaned, made the most sinful noises that had your core screaming to cum. The feeling of his jeans roughly hitting your clit was sure to send you over the edge eventually. You just needed the extra push. And Copia’s tongue laving over your sensitive neck to suck up the blood may have been it. Or his shirt’s fabric rubbing against your nipples every time he thrusted into you and made your body jiggle against him… you couldn’t be sure. But, you came.

At first, you didn’t anticipate it. The last time he was inside you, and all the times he’d touched you before, there was a warning before you hit your orgasm. But this time? Nothing. No build up to the sensitivity, no tingling. It was as though you’d been hit by a bus. The sharp wave of it rushing over you, making you scream out as it hit, tugging against your chains and writhing beneath Copia, who was damn near oblivious to your pleasure. “Oh, God!” you screamed, your body convulsing as much as Copia’s weight would allow.

Copia popped off your neck temporarily. “He can’t help you now, Angel.”

“Into eternal darkness, into perpetual shadows, let all light now be extinguished. Through this desecration, you, Angel, will be one step closer to demonic life!”

The familiar blackness began to creep into the edges of your vision, slowly encroaching like a gathering storm. It built up gradually, consuming the details of the room around you. The ornate symbols and dim candlelight blurred, then vanished entirely, leaving your eyes all but useless in the engulfing void.

Sounds that once filled the air around you—Copia’s laboured breathing, the sinister chants of Sister Imperator, the crackling of distant flames—began to distort. They grew hollow and echoed unnaturally, as if you were sinking into a deep abyss. Each echo stretched out longer and longer, until finally, they faded into an oppressive silence where there was nothing left to hear.

The last thing you remembered was the intense sensation of Copia’s body against yours, his movements erratic and desperate. You felt the heat and pressure of his final thrusts, the way his grip tightened possessively on your hips. The sensation of his cum flooding into your cunt was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the growing numbness spreading through your limbs.

As Copia emptied himself inside you, you sensed his dark satisfaction, heard his groans of pleasure mingling with your own fading consciousness. His last, deep thrusts seemed to drink in every part of you, his body shuddering in ecstasy.

Then, the numbness began to take over completely. It started as a gentle tingling in your extremities, quickly turning to a heavy, inescapable sensation that spread inward. Your body grew cold and distant, disconnected from your mind. The world around you dimmed, the Basilica and its cruel occupants vanishing into the impeding darkness.

Finally, your mind surrendered to the void. All thoughts, all sensations were swallowed by the blackness, and the last fleeting image was of Copia’s triumphant gaze, blurred and distant, mouth surrounded by your blood, as the world around you faded to black.

Your mind stirred into consciousness before your eyes fluttered open. For a few disorienting moments, you didn’t know where you were. The last thing you remembered was the floor of the Basilica and how cold it was. Yet, you felt a surprising warmth and comfort, despite the dull throbbing in your head and the stinging pain in your wrists and ankles where the ritual chains had rubbed against your flesh.

When you finally opened your eyes, you found yourself enveloped by the familiar confines of Copia’s bedroom. The luxurious sheets cocooned you in a soft embrace, their texture gentle against your damaged skin. Your wings were sprawled out across the entire mattress, their span emphasising the considerable size of the bed, even if half of them hung off the sides.

Your gaze travelled to the foot of the bed, where Copia was slumped in the same armchair he had occupied the first time he realised he could control you by holding your halo. He was fast asleep, his body draped over the chair like a carelessly discarded blanket. His mouth hung open slightly, and soft snores escaped from his parted lips, adding an oddly domestic soundtrack to the scene.

As you attempted to sit up, a sharp pain flared from your cuts, pulling a wince from your lips. Instinctively, you ran your hands over your body, seeking the source of the discomfort. To your surprise, you discovered that you had been dressed in a new robe. This one was black, closely resembling the habit of a Sister of Sin with the back cut out to make room for your protruding wings. Beneath the robe, you could feel the rough texture of bandages—evidence that your wounds had been tended to. Even your neck, which bore the mark of Copia’s eager bite, had been carefully dressed.

The memory of what had happened during the ritual began to flood back, and with it, a rush of emotions and physical responses. Your body reacted involuntarily to the thought of Copia’s hands on you, his mouth claiming your flesh. The sensation was visceral, stirring something deep within you.

You glanced back at Copia, his form still and peaceful in slumber, a stark contrast to the intensity of the ritual. The juxtaposition was almost jarring. Here was the man who had orchestrated your torment, now appearing as harmless as a child lost in a dream. The sight was strangely comforting, yet it did nothing to quell the tumultuous feelings roiling inside you.

You were still weak, a little too weak to get up and out of bed at that stage. But it didn’t matter, Copia’s eyes had opened not too long after yours. He blinked a few times, then his gaze focused on you, a slow, almost lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. “How are you feeling, my dear Angel?” He straightened in his chair, stretching slightly, genuine concern evident in his eyes. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever wake,” he continued, his tone taking on a more fearful sound when he was met with silence from you, and not the open armed welcome he expected. “The ritual took quite a toll on you, it seems.”

“The amount of blood I lost, I thought you were extracting it from me again,” you commented, bitter and bruised from his getting carried away.

Copia chuckled softly, the sound low and almost tender. “I must admit, I did get a bit carried away,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “But you survived, didn’t you? And here you are, looking more… intriguing than ever.”

He leaned forward in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’re stronger than you think, Angel. Enduring everything I put you through… it only proves how resilient you are.”

“What good is resilience when you… you acted the same way you did when I first arrived. You were cruel… evil. I did not wish to see that again.”

“Angel,” he sighed. He stood up and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge. He tried to find your hand, but you pulled it under the comforter. “I told you I’d have to be. She needed to believe it.”

“You enjoyed yourself.” Your tone was accusing. You found it difficult to look him in the eye.

“So did you. You felt good, too. I could tell.”

Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of anger and something else simmering beneath the surface. “Feeling good doesn’t make it right,” you retorted, your voice trembling slightly. “It doesn’t change what you did.”

Copia’s expression softened, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I know,” he said quietly. “But in that moment, it was necessary. If Imperator had seen any weakness, any hesitation, she would have known something was amiss. Everything we’ve done would have been for nothing.”

He leaned closer, his gaze intense. “I need you to understand, Angel. This isn’t just about pleasure or pain. It’s about survival. Both yours and mine.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away. “But at what cost?” you whispered.

Copia’s hand hovered over yours, hesitant, then gently rested atop the comforter covering your hand. “At whatever cost it takes to keep you safe,” he said softly. “I promise you, Angel, this isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning. And I will do whatever it takes to see us through this.”

You looked at him then, truly looked at him, and saw the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before, and it stirred something within you—a fragile hope amidst the chaos. You let him take your hand this time when he searched for it.

“Just… don’t forget who I am,” you murmured, your voice almost a plea.

“Never,” Copia replied, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re far too important to me for that.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed the soft skin.

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of your shared experiences hanging heavily in the air.

You were bed-ridden for days after, your body too tired to fight. You’d been a long time without your halo again, and you weren’t healing as quickly as you should have. Copia never pressured you into sex again, and resolved to wait for you to come to him. But you didn’t - and you weren’t sure if you ever could. Seeing him during the ritual brought back all those feelings from before, but this time more conflicting. Because you felt something for him, but you’d been reminded of the past, and that wasn’t healing as well as you thought it had either.

For the first time since you arrived, Copia was at your side through your entire recovery. It was almost as if he knew that you were questioning his actions, or perhaps worse: him. He’d arranged everything for you, any meals you may have wanted he anticipated and had one of his ghouls bring it up to you, he fluffed your pillows himself, as well as changed your wound’s dressings himself, despite the smell of your blood still lingering in the air. His touches were always soft, words always tender, and demeanour always gentle, trying to convince you that the ritual was a one off unless you asked for that kind of treatment again.

He’d warned you, you consented, and it felt obnoxiously good in the end, but you still couldn’t help the feeling of unease that washed over you. You couldn’t help the way your stomach dropped at the sight of his dark eyes staring at you, how his mouth was attached to your body, lapping up your blood like you were still his personal blood bank. Is that all you’d ever be to him? Would you always be nothing more than the pet he could take whatever he wanted from whenever he wanted it? Were you always second rate to him?

Or did he even care about you at all? Was this kindness actual kindness, or manipulation? You couldn’t make a decision, and you couldn’t ask him.

Clarity came in the form of a stroll around the Ministry’s gardens during one sunny day when you’d almost entirely recovered. It had been so long since you felt the warmth of the Sun on your skin, the smell of the flowers in bloom and the insects pollinating and going about their own business. You’d lived during the night more and more because that was Copia’s schedule, but slipping away from him and his ghouls was easy enough. You needed a break, some respite from the chaos that was the Cardinal and his life, and this was perfect.

Your mind cast itself back to when you first came out here to fly and stretch your wings, and just how much of a tragedy that whole situation became in the end. That ghoul was fine now, nary a scar on him thanks to the Ministry’s medical team and their knowledge of demonkind. It was as if nothing had happened. Yet you still felt guilty for it.

Memories began filtering through your defences of Brother Thomas, and the look in his eyes when Copia had come home early. The last time you saw him was when he climbed beneath the bed and tried to hide from the vampyre who took delight in torturing you and tormenting you. You hadn’t heard from him since. There were no letters waiting for you at the start of every night, no phone calls to be passed on… nothing. It was as if you didn’t exist to him and that thought had saddened you the most. Sure, you had Aurora now, but it wasn’t the same as your first friend. You couldn’t get attached to her in the same way as Brother Thomas.

You wondered if Brother Thomas was alive as Copia had promised… if he was in America somewhere or if Copia had lied to you. Copia’s lies grew and grew with each day, especially back then… it would have been easy to lie. You had no proof either way, and that was also a terrifying thought.

All the negativity swirling around your head would drive you insane. This distrust was something you’d only ever experienced with the Almighty, and how He’d keep secrets from you to have to do His bidding. Had you really gone from one master to another, both ends of the religious spectrum yet both using you to get to their own personal goals?

The Cardinal had seemed so kind, too… after all that had transpired. He was soft, and gentle… mostly. He respected you in a way that Heaven hadn’t. He showed you a new kind of living that you never would have experienced beyond your celestial borders. Could he really be capable of such treatment again? To have you go from how close you were to the very start of your… relationship all over again? You couldn’t fathom it. You didn’t want to.

You stayed out all day, contemplating your life and your future, only heading back when dusk had fallen and you knew the Cardinal wouldn’t be there.

Arriving back to the apartment, nothing appeared off at first. Everything looked to be in perfect order, exactly how you’d left it. You removed your shoes and wandered over to the bookshelf to find a book to read only to remember that you had a new one in the bedroom that you’d borrowed from the library. You opened the door and began to search for it with your eyes only when you saw it.

The cage that held your halo was unlocked and the door had been left open.

You froze in your space, your grip tightening on the door handle. He never would have done this purposefully, surely? This gave you too much power. You could reach in and take it… you could leave at a moment’s notice and he’d never suspect a thing until it was too late. You should walk away, go and find him and tell him that he’d left it open and that he should close it again.

Yet you walked towards the cage. Your feet were moving you of their own accord, pulling you faster and faster towards the cage until eventually you were there, as close as you could physically be without harming yourself. You could feel the heat of the hellfire emanating from the forged metal, that was how close your skin was to utter disaster.

You could just reach in and grab it.

You could just reach in and grab it.

Nothing was stopping you.

No one was there to stop you.

You reached into the cage, breaths quickening from nerves but also the power your halo held, much purer than your body now. Your hand moved down, a finger barely skimming the surface when you felt an electric current pulse into your body from the halo, not recognising you at first. Two demonic trials and an attempted third, plus months of sin. Your halo hurt you for the first time ever. Getting it into your hands was more painful than last time, but eventually you stood there, in front of the cage, halo in the palms of your hands and holding it delicately like you were about to smash it.

Copia found you like that, eyes trained on the glowing light cradled in your fingers. You looked terrified yet desperate. Your body was sweating, your chest heaving with irregular and shallow breaths. You looked like an addict resisting temptation to relapse.

“Angel?” he asked, softly.

You snapped your gaze up at him, pupils blown and eyes widened.

He stepped cautiously into the room, holding his hands out to show you he meant no harm. “Angel, come back to me,” he requested, regarding you warily.

Once you’d got used to the pure holy light again, your mind regained some clarity. Enough for you to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“Th-the door was open,” you said. Your mouth felt dry, as though your very tastebuds were the grains of sand in the Sahara.

“I know… I did it purposefully.”

“Wh-what?”

“Angel,” he took on a more serious tone, “I’m giving you your freedom back. Entirely. No strings attached. You deserved this a long time ago, I was just a little scared. I…” he exhaled a shaky breath. “I was scared that you’d leave once you got your halo back… That you wouldn’t want to stay here… with me. And while I wouldn’t blame you for leaving, I would want you to stay. I l- care… no. If I want you to stay, I have to be honest. You shouldn’t stay just for ‘care’.

“I lo…” Hesitation. “I love you. I treated you like shit before, and I’ll pay for that for the rest of our lives, I swear, but… I don’t think I could breathe if you weren’t around any more. If I didn’t wake up next to you every night and admire your sleeping face before you woke up to catch me. If I didn’t have you pottering around here with your books and questions, and fascination with humanity. You consume all of my thoughts, every single hour of the day I’m thinking of you; wondering if you’re okay, needing to be next to you because I might die if I wasn’t.”

“Imperator,” you said, unable to fully formulate a sentence.

“If you stayed, she’d have to go,” he told you, his voice firm and resolute. “She’s plagued me for 400 years, at this point. A thorn in my side since the moment she made me turn her. I was more than happy to bury her at the right time centuries ago, but that time never came. I want you. I choose you. I’m more than happy to send her to Hell where she belongs. I won’t let her hurt you again. I can’t. We could do it together… fight her together. Rule the church together.” He held out his hand for you to take. “What do you say?”

“I-” You looked back at your halo, taking your eyes away from your pleading lover momentarily to fully digest the information. Love. You’d seen many forms of it, in religious devotion, familial, romantic, sexual, platonic. Perhaps you loved the Almighty once, your angelic colleagues, the subjects of your Lord who abade his rules and spread kindness over violence. Did you love the Cardinal? You couldn’t be sure. You were infatuated, that much you knew to be true. He was a welcome respite from the pressures of Heaven, when he was good, of course. But did you love him enough to stay in Hell on Earth with him? Did you love him enough to jeopardise everything you’d worked for in the millennia you’d been alive?

God, you’d been alive so long. Too long. And it had only been in the last year or so where you truly felt as though you’d been living. Copia was the one who gave you that gift… alongside the physical, emotional, and mental scars. He was offering you freedom - freedom with him, or freedom alone.

Was this all a lie? A desperate man bearing his soul to you to get you to stay and fulfil his wishes. All the books you’d read, all the lives you’d watched, all the love you’d witnessed, all those lives had been built on mutual respect and understanding. People cared for their partners and their partner’s minds and opinions. The relationships they had weren’t solitary… inclusive of their lover’s thoughts and feelings.

Copia didn’t include yours. That declaration of love was him telling you that you’d relieve a great burden in his mind that would make him feel so much better.

He’d kill his own mother to keep you safe.

He wanted her gone anyway! Whether you helped him or not, she’d be dead before dawn. It’s an excuse.

He loves you, you should stay.

He loves how easy you are to manipulate.

A man who manipulated wouldn’t cry like that.

He would, he - he’s crying?

You looked back up at him, hearing his breaths shaking and confirming your own thoughts by the tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your mind made up.

Copia stepped to the side, freeing the doorway for you. He looked away, out the window and into the garden, using his gloves to wipe his tears away. You paid little heed to it, charging out the door and running, halo in hand and heading for the open world. As soon as you were outside, your wings stretched and you flew away. You didn’t know your destination, or what you’d find, but you needed to go.

You just kept going, tears burning your eyes and blurring your vision, forcing you to make a swift landing only a kilometre north from the Ministry.

He loved you. You left him.

It was that moment, with the distance between you, that you realised you loved him, too. That the heartbreak you were feeling wasn’t because of any betrayal you’d convinced yourself he’d done, but because you hurt him deeply. You’d cut a wound just as deep as how you felt. You had unwittingly inflicted wounds as grievous as those you nursed within yourself. It was a symphony of suffering, a duet of shattered souls, each note resonating with the raw ache of love found and lost, and lost because of you.

Perhaps if you went back, he’d forgive you. He loved you. If you told him how you felt, you could fix this. You could fix this! Hell, you could see the Ministry’s spire, you were barely off the grounds!

You spread your wings and prepared to take flight again when you felt hands on your wings. A clap of thunder sounded over you, yet no lightning followed. No rain poured from the sky.

Your heart sank. You turned to see the owner of the hands only to see… “Michael!”

“Greetings unto thee,” Michael said, a small smile on his face. “Verily, it hath been a time long in passing.”

“Let me go.” You began to struggle against the angels that held you back.

“And dost thou flee unto the shelter of Lucifer… Nay, I say unto thee, it shall not be so.”

“It has been a while, why would you concern yourself with me now?”

“For the wrath of our Lord is kindled against thee. He seeketh thy chastisement and retribution.”

“Our Lord, Michael? Or you?”

“Truth be told, I yearn for thy casting into the Abyss. Yet, only by the decree of the Almighty shall thy demise be wrought. I am but a humble servant, ready to execute the judgment for such transgression.”

You struggled more. “You could have come sooner. I was in need of a rescue when I first fell.”

“Hadst thou not the need for deliverance? Behold thee now, engulfed in sin, its stench emanating from thy defiled form. Whither hath thy purity fled?”

“I lived for myself and not for Him. I was happy.”

“Nevertheless, thou didst flee.”

“A momentary lapse. I will return.”

“Thou shalt not.”

“What?”

“Dost thou truly believe we would suffer thee to set thy foot upon that sacred ground once more, now that thy sins are laid bare? Permit thee to complete those unholy rites and become a thrall unto Satan? Place at risk all we have wrought, the Grand Design, because thou couldst not restrain thy carnal desires? Nay. Thou shalt return unto Heaven with us, and nevermore shalt thou depart.”

“You can’t do this!” you shouted, fighting against the angels harder.

You continued to fight even as the Earth got smaller and smaller beneath you until it had disappeared entirely. It was only then when you entered the Heavenly realm, you realised…

In the struggle, you’d dropped your halo.

Hello, everyone!

I just wanted to take this moment to thank you all so, so much for your support for this series. There has been so much love to come out of it and I'm so touched and honoured that you've enjoyed it enough to come back for each chapter. All your comments, art, support and everything else truly means the world to me. So thank you so much!

And thank you to the person who commissioned this fic! Thank you for your patience and for trusting me with your idea. I'm very grateful!

Here's to Kinktober!

Mel

Prev./Next

[officialpetanimals]

How does your dog usually react to wearing birthday hats or accessories?

Every dog owner loves to pamper their furry friends, especially on special occasions like birthdays. Dressing up our dogs in adorable birthday hats or accessories has become a popular way to celebrate their milestones and make them feel extra special. However, not all dogs are thrilled about wearing such adornments. In this article, we will explore how dogs typically react to wearing birthday hats or accessories and some tips to ensure your canine companion has a pawsitive experience on their special day.

The Mixed Reactions of Dogs to Birthday Hats

Just like humans, dogs have distinct personalities, and their reactions to wearing birthday hats or accessories can vary widely. Some dogs may be natural hams and enjoy the extra attention they receive when adorned in cute birthday gear. They might strut around proudly, wagging their tails, and posing for the camera.

On the other hand, some dogs might find wearing hats uncomfortable or unfamiliar, causing them to become anxious or stressed. It's not uncommon for them to paw at the hat or try to shake it off, displaying their discomfort with the new accessory.

It's essential to gauge your dog's reaction to wearing a birthday hat and ensure that it doesn't cause distress. Remember, every dog is unique, and understanding their individual preferences is crucial to ensure a positive birthday experience.

To know more about : -

Factors Influencing Your Dog's Reaction

Several factors can influence how your dog responds to wearing birthday hats or accessories:

Temperament: A dog with a confident and outgoing personality may be more open to wearing accessories, while a shy or reserved dog might feel overwhelmed or frightened.

Previous Experiences: If your dog has had positive experiences with wearing hats or accessories in the past, they are more likely to be comfortable with them. Negative experiences, on the other hand, can lead to aversion.

Training and Socialization: Dogs that are well-trained and have undergone positive socialization are generally more adaptable to new experiences, including wearing hats.

Comfort and Fit: The fit of the birthday hat or accessory plays a significant role. If it's too tight or causes discomfort, your dog will be less tolerant of it.

Age: Young puppies might be more accepting of novelty, whereas older dogs might be set in their ways and less receptive to new things.

Tips for Making Your Dog's Birthday Experience Enjoyable

If you want to dress up your dog for their birthday and capture some adorable moments, here are some tips to ensure a positive experience:

Start Early: Introduce your dog to wearing hats or accessories well before their birthday. Gradually let them get used to it by offering treats and praise for wearing it.

Positive Reinforcement: Use positive reinforcement techniques, such as treats and praise, whenever your dog is wearing the birthday hat. This will create positive associations and make it a more enjoyable experience for them.

Choose Comfortable Accessories: Ensure that the birthday hat or accessory is the right size and comfortable for your dog to wear. Avoid anything that might restrict their movement or cause discomfort.

Monitor Body Language: Pay close attention to your dog's body language when they are wearing the hat. If they appear stressed, anxious, or uncomfortable, it's best to remove the accessory.

Keep it Short and Sweet: Don't force your dog to wear the hat for extended periods. Keep the duration short and gradually increase it over time if they seem comfortable.

Know When to Stop: If your dog clearly dislikes wearing hats or accessories, respect their preferences. Celebrate their birthday in other ways that they enjoy.

Celebrate Your Dog's Birthday with Love and Understanding

In conclusion, celebrating your dog's birthday with birthday hats or accessories can be a delightful experience if approached with love and understanding. While some dogs might revel in the extra attention, others may not enjoy wearing hats. As responsible pet owners, it's crucial to recognize and respect your dog's individual preferences and never force them into uncomfortable situations.

Remember, the best gift you can give your furry companion is your love and attention. Whether they wear a birthday hat or not, shower them with affection, take them on an exciting outing, or treat them to their favorite treats. After all, it's the thought and effort that counts, and your dog will undoubtedly appreciate the love you pour into making their birthday a memorable one!

Visit now : -

Read more : -

[toneophealthandfitness]

Why Bansal College Is Best For Bhopal 12th-Grade B.Tech Admission In 2023

Selecting the right college for pursuing a B.Tech degree is of utmost importance for 12th-class students aiming for engineering admission in MP. College choice can significantly impact their academic journey, career prospects, and overall personal growth.

In this regard, Bansal College in Bhopal emerges as a renowned institution dedicated to academic excellence and holistic student development. Let's delve into the reasons why choosing Bansal Group of Institutes for engineering admission in MP is highly recommended.

An Overview Of Bansal College

Bansal Group of Institutes is a prestigious engineering institute located in central India, offering quality education, world-class infrastructure, and top-notch placement opportunities. 

It consistently ranks among the best engineering colleges in MP, providing students with all the essential amenities required for excelling in their studies, including practical training and extracurricular activities. 

With its commitment to delivering the best education and resources, Bansal Group of Institutes serves as the perfect choice for aspiring engineers seeking a successful career.

Colleges Under The Bansal Group Of Institutes

For students seeking the best private colleges for B.Tech, Bansal Group of Institutes offers a range of options, including:

1. Bansal Institute of Science Technology (BIST)

2. Bansal Institute of Research & Technology (BIRT)

4. Bansal Institute of Research Technology & Science (BIRTS)

5. Bansal College of Engineering (BCE)

6. Bansal College of Pharmacy (BCP)

7. Bansal College of Nursing

8. Sushila Devi Bansal College of Engineering (SDBCE)

9. Sushila Devi Bansal College of Technology (SDBCT)

Key Facilities Provided By Bansal Group Of Institutes

1. Academic Excellence

Bansal College holds accreditation from reputable bodies and is affiliated with a renowned university, ensuring high-quality education. The college boasts a highly qualified faculty team that brings a blend of academic expertise and industry experience to the classroom.

State-of-the-art laboratories and modern classrooms contribute to effective learning, and the curriculum is regularly updated to align with industry requirements.

2. Placement And Internship Opportunities

Bansal College's remarkable track record in placements is a crucial factor that positions it as a preferred choice among B.tech aspirants. The college has fostered strong partnerships with industry leaders, enabling a seamless transition from academic studies to professional careers.

Students at Bansal College are presented with abundant internship opportunities in renowned companies, allowing them to gain valuable practical experience and industry insights before graduation. The campus drive at the college encompasses over 120 top-rated companies, providing a wide range of placement prospects. Here are some prominent companies that participate in the placement process:

1. Tata Consultancy Services (TCS) BPS

2. Collabera Services Pvt Ltd

3. Advanced India LLP

4. Fincap Research Investment Adviser

5. Genpact India Pvt. Ltd.

6. Global Wealth Financial Services

7. JustDial Ltd.

8. Policy Bazaar

9. SVAM Casting Pvt. Ltd.

10. Magnum Group – BPO Division

3. Industry Exposure And Training

Recognising the significance of industry exposure, Bansal College offers numerous avenues for students to interact with industry experts. The college organises guest lectures, workshops, and seminars where renowned professionals share their experiences and knowledge. 

4. State-Of-The-Art Facilities

Bansal College takes pride in providing students with an enriching learning environment. The infrastructure includes modern classrooms equipped with advanced audio-visual aids, well-stocked libraries with a vast collection of books and online resources, and dedicated spaces for sports and recreational activities. These facilities contribute to an immersive learning experience.

5. Scholarships And Financial Assistance

Understanding some students' financial constraints, Bansal College offers various scholarships and financial aid programs. Meritorious students can avail themselves of scholarships based on their academic performance, and the college collaborates with leading banks to provide educational loans on favourable terms.

6. Extracurricular Engagement And Student Clubs

Bansal Group Institutes (BGI) places great emphasis on the holistic development of its students and organises an array of cultural activities each year with the aim of achieving this goal. These activities are specifically designed to rejuvenate students' minds and foster the development of their mental, physical, and social skills. They include:

1. National Cadet Corps (NCC)

2. National Service Scheme (NSS)

3. Sports Activities

4. Various Activity Clubs

Through its unwavering commitment to student growth, BGI enables students to make progress towards their goals while recharging their energy and preparing for future challenges. Some of the notable activities organised by BGI are:

1. BANSALOTSAV

2. Science exhibitions

3. Alums Meet

4. Women's Day celebrations

5. Festive celebrations

6. Free eye checkup camps

7. Alumni Network

Bansal College takes immense pride in its extensive alum network of accomplished professionals from diverse fields. This network provides a platform for networking and mentorship, offering valuable guidance to current students. The college actively organises alumni meets and invites distinguished alumni to share their success stories, inspiring and motivating the student community.

The Final Say

Moreover, the college provides facilities such as NCC, NSS, sports, and cultural activities to ensure a well-rounded college experience for students. With partnerships established with over 120 companies for campus placements, graduates from Bansal College enjoy abundant job opportunities upon completing their studies.

Additionally, the college offers amenities like well-equipped classrooms, a library, a canteen facility, transportation facilities, and scholarships to ensure a seamless academic journey. Join the outstanding B.Tech college today!

About BGI

The Bansal Group of Institutes offers various engineering, management, and nursing courses. It has the best and top-placement colleges in its multiple campuses across Bhopal, Indore, and Mandideep. With credible faculty and well-equipped laboratories, BGI ensures a top-notch learning experience. 

Visit Our Websites

Bhopal- https://bgibhopal.com/

Indore- https://sdbc.ac.in/Mandideep- https://bce.ac.in/ Click on the link to get yourself registered- https://bgibhopal.com/registration-form/

[mistmessenger]

@onth3cusp @teenage-birt-dag @kaleidos-copia I think I’m getting carried away with this idea lol

Copia essentially existing as a combo of the three Largo kids - Luigi’s anger issues, Pavi’s vanity, Amber’s singing career (and maybe Amber’s Zydrate problem after his plastic surgery? - I might have been walking around all morning singing ‘Miss Cardi C is addicted to the knife. Addicted to the knife? Addicted to the knife.’).

Granted ik the other Papas could fit in here too somewhere...

But only child Copia assumes that when his decrepit old man Nihil, CEO of GeneCo, eventually croaks, his inheritance will be a safe bet.

Perpetua, raised as an orphan (idk why I haven’t thought that far ahead) and eventually trained as a doctor, discovers the truth of his parentage and seeks them out.

Great timing, because his mother, Imperator has fallen ill.

He pulls some strings to reunite with his parents, with Imperator taking him on board as her personal doctor.

Nihil is thrilled - his child? A doctor? Wonderful.

Copia already doesn’t like this guy, sensing how much his parents seem to worship him. So when he finds out they’re twins, and his inheritance is at risk - livid. He’s out for blood.

Poisons Imperator’s medicine and leads a heartbroken Perpetua to believe he accidentally killed her.

(Extra angst - Copia made a whoopsie with the dose, never intended to kill Imperator, only to give them a scare and discredit Perpetua)

Nihil is devastated at the loss, and too enraged to take pity on Perpetua - ready to have him executed for his mistake when Copia steps in with an idea, surprising his father with his empathy and level headedness - have Perpetua become a Repo Man to atone and cut him from the will.

That’s all the brotherly angst I can think of for this rn

Also Mary Goore has to be Grave Robber because come on:

Was going to make a joke that he looks like he’d flash open the coat like “Psst wanna buy a kidney?”

But then remembered Repo the Genetic Opera exists and now all I can think is Repo Man Perpetua……..

[qyuoza]

The Ditz with a Credit Card (KTH)

“She’s just a ditz with a credit card dude, give her daddy’s money and she’d do better in shopping than biology”

Genre: Fluff, (Slight!) Angst, Crack

Pairings: Kang Taehyun x afab!reader (Enemies to lovers?)

AU: Highschool!au, Clueless!au

Warnings: Mentions of a divorce, reader really isn’t the brightest star in the sky

Synopsis: You were the school’s most popular girl, constantly up to date with the latest fashion trends and someone who had it all because of daddy’s money. Though you weren’t the brightest, you definitely were a charmer, because it led the school’s smartest student to have his sights set on you.

Disclaimer! This fic does not represent Kang Taehyun or any of the Tomorrow X Together members in any way, and only a few parts are linked to the movie Clueless! Happy reading! (btw this took me 4 days to write and I’m so unsatisfied and this is VERY unedited but I hope u guys like it!)

It girl.

It was what everyone at school called you. You were always consistent with your style, and had the latest clothes for the season all the time. You lived in a mansion in Beverly Hills, which costs a pretty penny too, only proving your impeccable wealth. I mean, it’s not everyday that you’d see a sixteen year old that has a computer to pick her outfits, and a matching walk in closet that revolves.

You truly had everything in your grasp, as someone who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. The only problem was, you weren’t the brightest star either. Sure you have good grades, but you pretty much lacked a bit in the common knowledge department. Needless to say, you were kind of an airhead at that too.

“It’s barely eight in the morning and he’s already paging me. Can you believe him?” Ningning, your best friend, whines. You giggle and roll your eyes at her playfully. “He’s so possessive” you reply. Her pager beeps again and she can’t help but sigh.

“I honestly don’t understand why you would put up with that Ning. I mean come on, you could do way better” you tell her again.

It was a line you memorized at this point, just because your best friend and her boyfriend were in this dramatic highschool relationship with each other.

As you both continue to walk towards the school building, Jaeyun (otherwise known as Jake), comes into view. He was Ningning’s boyfriend, the clingy one that constantly pages her. “Woman why haven’t you answered my pages?” He asks her.

Ningning looks at you and then up at him with a awkward smile. “You know I hate it when you call me woman, Jake” but before she could continue, she was interrupted by the male again.

“Well, where were you all weekend then? Don’t tell me you were out with someone else” he eyes her.

“Now don’t get me started—“ within secounds a small crowd started to gather around the couple, so you immediately started to excuse yourself before things could get worse. “Ning I’m audi!” You grin, and she waves you goodbye.

You never understood why your best friend would date a highschool boy, to you, they were basically like dogs. Always so filthy, hard to take care of and you needed to feed them. You would rather die honestly than be seen in a highschool relationship. It just didn’t seem worth it after all, you needed someone mature who could make your life more interesting.

Suddenly, your train of thought was cut off when a boy jokingly put his arm around you. That was until you shoved him aside. “Get off of me! Ugh, as if!” You huffed, before you started to get annoyed.

“Should all oppressed people be allowed refuge in America?” Your teacher speaks loudly, before walking to the front of the class. “Taehyun will take the con position, Y/n will be pro. Y/n, two minutes” he continues. You take your gum out your mouth and grin bashfully.

“So ok, like right now for example, the Haiti-ans need to come to America, but some people are on about ‘what about the strain on our resources?’” You say confidently, before continuing.

“Then it’s like, when I had this garden party for my father’s birthday right. I said RSVP because it was a sit down dinner, but people came that, like, did not RSVP. So I was like totally buggin’”

The class didn’t seem to be listening, but you could hear the male beside you stifling a laugh, which made you glare at him before you continued to state your argument.

“So, as I was saying, I had to haul ass into the kitchen, redistribute the food, and squish in extra place settings. By the end of the day though, it was like, the more the merrier, and so if the government could just get to the kitchen, rearrange some things, we could certainly accommodate the Haiti-ans” this had Taehyun keening, but he wouldn’t ever say it out loud that he was amused by you.

“In conclusion, may I remind you that it does not say RSVP on the statue of liberty” you end. The whole class erupts into cheers, and some laughed, including Taehyun, but you didn’t care. You gave your argument and that’s all that mattered.

Your teacher and Taehyun give you both a look, before he asks your opponent for a reply. “Mr. Hall, how could I answer that? The topic was oppression and she’s gonna talk about some garden party? This is ridiculous, I think we, of all people, would understand the oppression those people face, which is why we came to take refuge in America no?” Taehyun chuckles.

Mr. Hall couldn’t disagree, but you still had to say something. “Hello? It was his fiftieth birthday?” You interject. Taehyun rolls his eyes and waves a hand at you dismissively, before you both leave for your seats.

“Does anyone else have any other comments or concerns to bring up?” Mr. Hall asks the class. Hueningkai then raises a hand. “I have an insight Mr. Hall!” He chirps. “I’m all ears Kai” Mr. Hall replies.

“Ok like, the way I feel about the Rolling Stones, is the way my kids are going to feel about nine inch nails, so I really shouldn’t torment my mom anymore, huh?” Hueningkai says. “Yes well, it’s a bit off from our subject of Haiti but tolerance is always a good lesson” Mr. Hall smiles.

Soon enough, Mr. Hall was distributing the report cards and you grimanced as you looked at your grades. “A ‘C’ in debate? Are you kidding?” You muttered to yourself. You could hear someone chuckle from behind you, and lo and behold, it was Kang Taehyun. “Better luck next time since you can’t argue your way out of this one doll face” he smirks.

The bell rings and class is dismissed, so you immediately ring up Ningning to ask her how she did. “Ning, did you get your report card?” You ask. “Yeah I’m toast, how’d you do?” She replies from the other line.

“I totally choked! My father’s going to go ballistic on me” you say, completely distraught. “Mr. Hall was way harsh” she sympathizes.

“He gave me a C and it’ll drag down my entire average!” You whine, before running into her in the school hallway. “Bye” she says, and you nod in reply. “I’ll call you!” You call after her.

At home, you run into your step brother, well former step brother, Lee Heeseung. He’s the son of your dad’s last ex wife whom he divorced about five years back. “Heeseung, what is it with college students and your sad music every time you’re over” you whine, walking into the kitchen.

You watch him rummage through the frige and scoff, did his mom not teach him any manners? “So your flannel shirt, are you nudging towards the crispy Seattle weather or are you trying to keep warm in front of the refrigerator?” you snort.

“I came by dad’s office—“ “you mean MY dad, Lee” you cut him off and roll your eyes. Heeseung frowns and steps in front of you, a piece of carrot in his mouth.

“Hey now, just because my mother married someone else doesn’t make him any less of a father figure to me. My new step dad is horrible” he replies gruffly.

You couldn’t retort knowing he was right and you felt bad, so instead, you made your way past him and towards the living room to watch tv. Heeseung hops on the spot beside you on the sofa a second later while giving you a look. You notice and give him a similar look, wondering what was up with him.

“What?” You frown. Heeseung chuckles and continues to chew on his carrot. “Did something happen at school today? You seem moodier than usual” he points out.

“Nothing, just some stupid boy in my debate class! So full of himself, he laughed at what I had to say” Heeseung laughs and you hit his shoulder, causing the boy to yelp. “Oh come on Y/n, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal” he replies, changing the channel.

“Hey! I was watching that! God, you just got back and you’re already acting like you own the place” you whine, stealing the remote from him. Heeseung rolls his eyes but chuckles at your behavior.

Sure, your parents weren’t on the best of terms, but you were still like a little sister to him after all, and he didn’t want that chance to pass since he’s always been the youngest in his own family. Suddenly, your dad calls you both into the dining room to eat with him.

“How was school today Y/n?” Your dad asks. You sigh and Heeseung stifles a laugh from beside you. “A total bust daddy, I got a C in debate and some snobby nerd made fun of me in class” you pout.

“You couldn’t argue your way out of this one? It’s ok Y/n, you’ll get it next time” your dad smiles at you. Even if you weren’t the brightest, your dad always saw through you and knew you were trying your best in everything.

The next day at school, you saw that guy again and only rolled your eyes at him. That was until you noticed his friends.

“Ning, psst, who’s that? Why is he hanging out with Hueningkai and Choi Beomgyu?” You nudge your best friend.

Ningning narrowed her eyes and looked in the same direction you were looking in. “What? The guy with black hair? That’s Taehyun remember. He’s like the top student and is usually cold to everyone. A lot of girls like him though because of his looks, but trust me, he’s not the person you’re looking for” she fills you in.

You nod and try to push every thought of the boy to the back of your head. Meanwhile, on Taehyun’s end, he could only smirk as he noticed you staring. He found you interesting that’s for sure, and he wanted to get to know you better, but who doesn’t know you though. You were constantly a hot topic at school with guys constantly pining after you, but Taehyun decided to take a different approach.

“HUH? What do you mean I have to be tutored by Kang Taehyun?! Are you insane Mr. Hall?” You exclaimed after class. Mr. Hall furrows his brows before continuing.

“Seeing as you got a low grade in debate, I wanted to at least pair you up with someone who’s done well in this class. If you want that C to turn into an A, you either get tutored or stick with that C and I know how much you care about your average, Ms. Choi” he finishes.

Taehyun could only smile next to you while you reluctantly nodded. You had to get a better grade in his class or else your entire average would plummet and you’d never get a shot at college.

“Alright then, it’s settled! Taehyun, you both can discuss the details, and please update me on anything as you both go on” Mr. Hall then dismisses you both.

Outside the classroom, Taehyun stops you. “What?” You spit at him. You didn’t mean to be so rude, but you were too mad to think straight right now. This boy made fun of you and your teacher had the audacity to make him your tutor at that?

“Woah calm down there princess, I wanted to discuss our sessions with you. I’m available at seven from Monday to Friday if that’s alright” Taehyun says. You nod at him and shove a paper with your number and address on it towards him.

“Here, daddy says I can’t be going anywhere while he’s on his trip so here’s my address. Just call me once you’re there I guess” before Taehyun could utter out a reply, you were gone.

That night, you didn’t expect Taehyun to turn up so early or to even turn up at all. He even ran into Heeseung at the door, and you wondered how on earth the two knew each other because they were chatting like old friends.

“What? He’s your tutor? Y/n, I’m sure you’re in great hands, this guy’s a genius” Heeseung chirps.

You could only roll your eyes as you lead Taehyun over to the living room to start your tutoring session. The faster you move, the quicker you could get this over with. Who was this guy anyway? And why does everyone think of him so highly?

“Here, sit down. I’ll get us some snacks before we start” you calmly say. The least you could do was be nice, it wouldn’t be fair on him if you stayed petty forever.

“Alright, thanks. Don’t worry, I won’t be too long. I’ll just go over what we missed and what you can improve on, does that sound like a plan?” Taehyun looks into your eyes, and you nodded, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

In the kitchen, as you were setting snacks on the tray, Heeseung walks in and grins at you widely. “Snobby boy huh? I noticed you making heart eyes at him just a second ago, don’t tell me you’re all talk Y/n” he chuckles.

You throw him a glare and click your tongue, you did not like this boy! Sure he was cute, but you’d rather be dead than be caught with someone like him. He just seemed so, uptight and that was not someone you were willing to deal with.

“Me with him? As if! He’s just my tutor, once I ace this class and do better it’ll be like nothing ever happened between us” you smirk and walk into the living room. Heeseung could only sigh and roll his eyes playfully, he knew this would lead to something else, but he wouldn’t ever tell you. At least, not in the mean time that is.

“Oh you’re back! Put that over here so we can start” you place the tray over at a spot on the table and settle in next to Taehyun.

“About your argument the day before, see the problem was, you couldn’t stick to the topic but somehow related it towards the argument somehow? I found that good, but I think it would be better to relate it to the discussion” he smiles gently.

You admired Taehyun for his brutal honesty, but at the same time his compliment towards you. He didn’t make you feel a single bit bad about it, and you liked that about him.

“Alright, should we do a practice run then?” You suddenly quipped. Taehyun’s eyes lit up and he nodded gently, he was eager to see what you were going to prepare after he gave you some advice, and he was happy that things were going along quite smoothly.

“Should all oppressed people be allowed refuge in America? Y/n, you take the pro position again” he says.

“I think, all oppressed people should be allowed refuge in America. Even though people say it might strain our resources, we could still make it happen. This is a country of freedom is it not? And when the people that take refuge in this country can finally make something of themselves, they can help our economy” you say, matter of factly.

Taehyun’s face broke a bit, but he got over his confusion quickly and gave you a few more pointers. “That was better than the one before, but it still needs a bit of improvement. Good job though, and here, you can read off this topic until our next session” he highlights a page in the book and you smile. Baby steps.

Weeks passed by with Taehyun tutoring you to the best of his abilities, and although you wanted to say you hated it, you kind of grew to love the boy. He was so gentle with his words and never made you feel bad, you were even shocked that you were doing better in answering questions for a debate.

“Wow good job Y/n! Absolutely aced it! I’m insanely proud of you” he claps. You look away bashfully and saunter into the seat beside him on the floor.

This was your favorite part about your tutoring sessions with Taehyun, the part where you got to stare at him as he summarized all the topics you had gone through for the day. You loved the curve of his nose, the shape of his eyes, the way he would smile—

“Y/n? Hello? Are you alright? You were spacing out a bit there” Taehyun’s voice cuts you out of your daydream and you shake your head in embarrassment.

“I’m fine! Just a bit out of it, you were saying?” You grin, trying to mask your shame. Taehyun was definitely eye candy, and he was a sight for sore eyes.

“You did really well, I think you’ll finally get that A you deserve in debate. I’ve been updating Mr Hall on our progress, and it’s safe to say, you’ll be getting it sooner than you think” he beams proudly.

Taehyun felt his heart leap, and as much as he was feeling super proud of you, he also felt really sad. This meant everything would go back to normal, and you’d both grow into strangers again.

“Thanks for everything Taehyun! Sorry I was so rough on you in the beginning. Get home safe! I’d consider us friends now, so don’t hesitate to approach me if you need anything” you say softly.

You didn’t want to send the boy off, but you were afraid of getting your feelings hurt, so you masked it inside and bid him a goodnight, wishing you both had something more. That’s when you called Ningning.

“Y/n I’m telling you, you both probably have the hots for each other! Taehyun seems so into you, but I’d take it slow for awhile. You know, kind of being friends and seeing where things go from there” she squeals excitedly. You frown on your end, why didn’t he just ask you out though, was there something wrong with you?

“Be careful though best friend, he’s known for breaking a few hearts, but this time it seems like he’s genuinely into you. I say give it a shot” Ningning continues.

“I’ll try my best then Ning! Thanks for calling, see you at school tomorrow! Mwah” you end the call and lay on your bed, sighing dreamily. Taehyun treated you so sweetly, you couldn’t wait to make him yours, and knowing he was someone who was serious about relationships, it only made your heart beat even faster.

Though, you weren’t prepared for what was about to happen the next day. Your love for the boy was going to be tested.

You walk into school with a huge grin on your face. You were so ready to tell Taehyun that you liked him, and you could only hope that he felt the same. That was until you saw him talk to his friends, and you may or may not have overheard their conversation.

“Taehyun what’s up with you? If I was with that girl I’d leave. Like yeah she’s hot, but she isn’t the brightest up there you know” Beomgyu laughed wildly. Hueningkai chuckled next to him and put a hand on Taehyun’s shoulder.

“She’s just a ditz with a credit card dude, give her daddy’s money and she’d do better in shopping than biology” he jokes. Taehyun didn’t let out a single word when your eyes suddenly met. His grew wide upon noticing your glassy ones.

You run away and Taehyun immediately follows you, yelling your name and bumping into students as he tries to get your attention. Ningning was walking into school with Jake when she sees you, and when she sees Taehyun right behind, she immediately understood.

“Let’s get you out of here Y/n—“ Ningning was cut off by an out of breath Taehyun coming up to the three of you. You turn and hide behind your best friend and her boyfriend.

“Don’t even try Kang, I don’t know what you did but it seems like you visibly hurt my best friend and I will not stand for it” she growls. Taehyun looks away shamefully before looking straight at you.

“Y/n, can we deal with this in private? It’s not what you think and if you could just give me a few minutes to talk, I swear I’ll leave you alone” he practically begs. Ningning turns to you and you nod at her, gripping Taehyun’s wrist as you both walk to a more secluded area.

After finding an area far enough out where no one would be at, you look at the boy with a frown. “Look, what you heard is not what you think. It’s Beomgyu and Hueningkai being stupid” Taehyun starts. You scoff and wait for him to continue.

“Listen Y/n, I know I haven’t been the most transparent towards you, but to me, you’re more than a girl with a credit card and daddy’s money. You’re someone I look forward to seeing after school, because although I usually go home exhausted and grumpy, I remember that I get to see you during our tutoring sessions and I get to see your smile and hear your laugh for a few hours” he continues to pour out.

You were shll shocked. No one has ever been this honest about their feelings towards you, and someone who’s always been seen as just a girl freeloading off her dad and probably one of the dumbest people out there, you were touched by his words. Taehyun has always been sweet, but he never sugarcoated his words and was constantly straightforward with how he felt.

“I thought you were some dumb chick who likes shopping at first, but after getting to know you, I admired your beautiful personality. Y/n, you’re everything and more. You’re so caring, so genuine, and when I observe how you act around others, I see you doing your best no matter what” Taehyun takes a step closer before pulling you in by the waist.

“And I wanna take this chance to call you mine, because no one has ever made me feel this way” he kisses you deeply, and you kiss him back with just as much love.

“Are you still mad at me?” Taehyun grins when you both pull away. “Nope, but thank you really. I have never heard words as sweet as yours, no one has ever said such things to me” you admit shyly.

Taehyun frowns and pulls you in for another kiss. “Well, get used to it because I’ll give you more than that soon” he pecks your lips after and you hit his shoulder slightly. “Stop kissing me! We’re gonna be late” you whined.

It was safe to say, you got that A in debate, and a little something special after all. You wanted to prove that you weren’t the ditz with a credit card that everyone thought you were.

© qyuoza 2022 -. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[peach-and-bugs]

Hey! May I request stairs with Peggy carter please?

❤️Stairs - Peggy Carter x fem!Reader❤️

Fanfiction master list

Summary: You're sent out on an evening sting operation with Chief Thompson, but Peggy isn't far behind and will be around if you need her

Warnings: cannon-typical violence, some era-accurate sexism (it's the late 40s after all) blood, and guns

Word Count: 2,895

A/N: another fic for Peggy! I always intend to keep these short, but I have a track record of writing longer work for Peggy. maybe it's a bit of favoritism, but I can't seem to help it! She's got a special place in my heart after all. she's my favorite spunky birt and deserves more self-insert content. not much more to say about this one, but I hope you enjoy, and as always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! ❤️

Peggy Carter Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-❤️-

Why you'd been tasked to go undercover with Jack Thompson had been bewildering you since you learned of the news just before your lunch break. What was more bewildering, however, was how pleased he seemed with the whole affair. He’d grinned as he told the office during the briefing and his eyes landed on you with mingling amusement and praise. 

You sat at your desk scowling down at your lunch, too sickened by your evening mission to even eat. It would be an easy mission for the most part. You were mostly eye candy when you thought about it. But you'd be stuck on smug Thompson’s arm the whole time. The man probably wouldn’t let you go to the suite by yourself. You groaned under your breath, shaking your head. 

“Not thrilled with your position?” a voice asked you out of nowhere. You looked up, the sandwich still in hand, and forced a smile. Peggy had come back with the other men’s lunch orders since you needed to “rest up” for tonight, according to Thompson. 

“No, I’m not pleased with it at all, actually,” you said through a sigh, putting your sandwich down, still too nauseous to eat. The main room was practically empty since Thompson said so much had to be done in preparation for tonight, so Peggy began passing sandwiches out to the abandoned desks. Despite moving around, you could tell you had her attention and continued. “I mean, why would he pick me? He’s only ever got me doing sandwich orders,” you paused as Peggy stopped moving. 

“No offense,” you murmured. Peggy laughed, finishing up what she was doing as she shook her head. 

“None taken, but I know how you feel,” she threw away the to-go bag and pulled a chair up to the opposite side of your desk. “At least you're going in the field tonight,” she sighed, crossing her arms and leaning forward with her elbows on your desk. 

“Thompson said this was a department-wide mission. What are you doing?” Peggy scoffed and rolled her eyes, puckering her red lips with an annoyed expression. 

“I’m going to be listening to coms and sending in backup if necessary. But I’m not allowed to be back up,” you scoffed and shook your head. 

“That’s ridiculous! If anything, you should be doing my job,” 

“Why do you say that?” she sounded genuinely curious and you shrugged. 

“You’ve always been better in the field, plus youve got the drive and motivation to do well. I admire that,” Peggy seemed surprised by that response and didn’t say anything for a long moment. She bit her lip before speaking, her eyes wandering, yet avoiding your gaze. 

“y/n, you sell yourself short,” she looked back up, meeting your gaze with a new softness. “You have the same training and the same capabilities as anyone here. You are an excellent, dedicated agent and you deserve that recognition,” you smiled, shying away from her gaze with a light chuckle. You'd grown close to Peggy over the past few years of working together and naturally, you'd become one another's cheerleaders of sorts. Heaven knew you both needed it, given your working environment and coworkers. 

“Thank you, Peg,” the Brit smiled a wide, rather wicked grin and winked just as your conversation was cut short with the return of the offices' male population. 

“No problem. Naturally, you’ll do great, but I’ve always got your back,” she stood up, returning the chair she had stolen as she went back to her desk. You began to rifle through the files about the evening's mission on your desk as you went back to your lunch. Thompson happened to walk past you on his way to his office and stopped short. You didn’t pay him any mind till he cleared his throat. You could feel eyes from around the office on you as you replied by giving him the attention he wanted. 

“Do you need something, Thompson?” you asked, taking a bite of your sandwich as you watched him carefully. He smiled and shook his head slightly, exchanging an amused look with the agent that sat in front of you. You didn’t share this amusement. You knew Thompson got off getting under you and Peggy’s skin, which was another reason he’d brought one of you on the evening's mission at all. But you weren't going to have it. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for tonight?” you stopped chewing with an arched brow. You stared at him for a moment, then looked down at your watch. 

“It’s barely one,” you had to stifle the scoff that tickled the back of your throat. Thompson was browning impatient with you now, sighing as he ran a hand over his chin. 

“Well, ladies have a habit of taking their time, and I’d like you to look your best,” another chuckle from some of the men in the office. You held your ground, taking the time to finish the bite of the sandwich still in your mouth before properly answering. 

“If you’re offering to let me off early, Chief then I’ll gladly take you up on your offer. Just say the word and I’m on my way,” Thompson glared at you, any amusement in his eyes turning to irritation at your confidence. His nostrils flared with injured pride and he huffed, walking away from your desk. 

“Be back by eight,” he barked back. The office grew quiet again, eyes trained on you, then hurriedly men went back to work with the ring of a phone. You smiled, turning around as you collected your things to exchange the look with Peggy. She was practically grinning from ear to ear as she caught your eye and waved as she sent you off. 

-*-

Just as you'd been instructed, you arrived back at the office at eight. With your time off, you'd been able to hit the salon and get your hair done up nice for the evening, even if it was just a sting operation. The plan was quite simple and frankly, you didn’t have to do much. New weaponry was on the market, again, and the office had gotten anonymous intel that a sale would be going on with the party as a cover. 

You’d be out on the floor, mingling with Thompson and posing as his date. A few other agents would be scattered around the party and it would be your job with Thompson to locate the seller and the buyer, intersecting the deal with an arrest. It was a rather basic operation, but it would still be worth being careful. 

So, you now found yourself almost unbearably close to Thompson in a well-known hotel with a glass of champagne in on hand and an earpiece tucked behind your hair. Jack was talking with a man he seemed to know and cracking rather dry jokes as you scanned the room. You sipped your drink, leaving behind one more sip with a sigh. You felt Jack’s hand round your waist squeeze just a tad and your head whipped around. He had on a fake grin and chuckled under his breath.

“Make sure you pace yourself, dear. You know how you can get with a few too many drinks,” you knew the comment was to maintain your cover (hopefully), but you forced an irritating smile and laughed rather abruptly. 

“I can’t make any promises, hun. Not when the night’s still young,” you tried to sound sweet, but the bitterness spit from your tongue. He exhaled with a twitch in his smile and turned back to his company, seemingly getting the picture. 

“Honestly, who does he think he is,” you heard Peggy grumble over the earpiece. You hid your smile behind your glass, taking in the last of your champagne. You knew for a fact, that if you heard her then Thompson had too. It was quite a pleasing thought to have. 

You continued to scan the room as Jack went on conversating. another tray of drinks came around and you got yourself another. That was when you noticed the rather shifty woman with a handbag that seemed to bulge strangely. She seemed paranoid, given the way her eyes frantically dashed about the room. You squinted, furrowing your brow as she darted to the suite without looking at Thompson much, you blindly shoved your new drink into his hand. You missed the confused and annoyed look he gave you as you waved him off, moving to leave. 

“I just need the powder room,” you mumbled, eyes trained on the woman running from the party. When you’d ducked into a hall behind her, you flipped your hair out of the way of the earpiece. “I think I’ve got her,” you mumbled quickly, trying to keep suspicions low. 

“Her?” one of the male agents working coms with Peggy asked. You rolled your eyes. Yes, a “her”. Why was the idea of a woman going undercover still so shocking? You continued to follow her and caught the tail end of her running into a back door of the hallway. You kept up, peeking into the door to find a long, winding set of stairs leading upwards. She didn’t want to be followed, otherwise, she would have used an elevator. You’d have preferred it if she used an elevator, but you followed. 

She went up and up, and it got to a point where you had to stop and take off your heels to avoid developing blisters. 

“Is she going to the roof? you heard Peggy ask over the intercom.

“I’m not sure. I hope not,” you whispered. “It’s freezing this time of year,” a chill ran down your spine just thinking about it. You heard Peggy subtly laugh and subconsciously smiled ad you looked up the stairs. Finally, she stopped and exited onto the floor. When you arrived on the floor landing shortly after her, it was marked as the sixteenth floor. 

“She’s on the sixteenth,” you said over your coms. “Thompson, are you getting any of this?” you asked with no response. 

“Get Thompson’s coms working,” Peggy ordered the men in the truck with her. Without waiting, you pushed forward just in time to see the woman dart down the hall. She ducked into a suite, shutting the door quickly behind her. You approached the door cautiously, eyes scanning the empty hall just to reassure you that it was empty. Your hand took hold of the doorknob, which was unlocked, but you hesitated. Looking down at your feet, some kind of smoke began wafting out from inside the suite. Your eyes widened and you stumbled back. 

“There's gas!” you yelped rather loudly, scurrying to pull a handkerchief out of your bag to cover your nose and mouth. 

“Gas? y/n, are you sure?” Peggy asked urgently in your ear. You blinked, taking more steps away from the door. You shook your head, pursing your lips under the handkerchief as you worked on formulating words. 

“Yes, gas or smoke- something’s leaking out from under the door,” Peggy began trying to tell you to keep calm and wait, but there was a loud bang from inside of the suite, a bang that sounded eerily like a gunshot. Without any more hesitation, you ran forward and barged in with the handkerchief still covering your face. 

Condensation leaked out the opened door and you arrived inside to find the woman shaking with a gun in hand, pointing it straight in front of her. Looking downward, you noticed the legs sticking out from the end of the bed and the blood pooling from the gunshot wound. What you now decided had to be steam leaked out of some kind of contraption you couldn’t recognize sitting on a dresser, but before you could note anything else, the woman turned on you with hyperventilating breath. Peggy was yelling in your ear, trying to get some kind of confirmation that you were alright.

You took the handkerchief from your mouth and put your hands up, preparing to offer her help and assure her that things would be alright when she abandoned the gun and lunged forward. Your back hit the ground, knocking the wind from your lungs with a squeaky wheeze. Her hands pushed your face into the ground, squeezing tight, but you had enough vision to notice something strange in her other hand. You couldn’t get a good look, but when she pushed a button, there was a pulsing, screeching sound that felt like it was squeezing your brain. You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in pain and before you knew it, she was sprinting down the hall, leaving you on the carpet. It was all so fast that you hadn’t had the time to react. 

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as the smoke pooled around you on the floor. Thompson was nowhere to be seen but yelling could be heard from the party. You rolled over onto your hands and knees as your ears began to ring. You held yourself up on the balls of your palms and took the crackling earpiece out with a harsh exhale of breath. Your hearing was impaired for the time being by the device the woman had used, but as you collected yourself you could have sworn someone said something about the roof.

You felt hands on your shoulder before you could hear properly and adrenaline boiling in your head, pushing yourself away. It took a moment to realize it was Peggy kneeling beside you on the carpet. You took in long, shaking breaths as she urged you to relax and breathe. Peggy helped you to sit up against the wall, her hands squeezing as she steadied your shoulders. You managed a pained smile and chuckled. 

“You got lucky, getting to use the elevator,” Peggy seemed stunned for a second, not understanding your joke. But when it did click, she smiled, sighing with relief as she shook her head. 

“I also took the stairs, actually,” you groaned, knocking your head back against the wall. 

“Why would you do that to yourself?” she chuckled again, but her eyes drifted away from yours. You caught her hand moving up to your face, reaching forward to gently thumb at your lip. You hissed at her touch and she flinched back, but you shook your head. “I’m ok. It just stings a little,” if you were honest, Peggy’s touch had been quite nice, minus the cut in your thumb. She was far more gentle than one might expect, especially if you'd seen her fight before, which you had plenty. 

“It doesn’t look all that bad,” she murmured, rubbing your bit of blood between her thumb and forefinger. “And for the record, the stairs seemed faster at the time,” you chuckled again and hummed. 

“You might regret that in the morning,” your tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip and you were met with the tangy, metallic taste of your blood. “She probably scratched it with her nails when she squeezed my face,” you trailed off, recalling the instance before. Peggy shook her head, and much to your surprise, she brushed your hair from your brow with feather-light fingertips. 

“I won’t regret it as long as I know that you’re safe,” her tone was warm and soft, but unfamiliar. It was somewhat like how she’d sounded earlier in the day at lunch, but still not quite right. Her eyes trained on you, studying your long and hard as though she was making a consideration. She bit her lip, brows scrunching as she watched you, her fingers trailing over the apples of your cheeks and down the line of your jaw. 

If you tried to talk, you probably wouldn’t be able to string along a sentence. As much as you'd try to hide it, a part of you had always wanted Peggy. She was an intoxicating creature to be around and you craved her attention, her affection. And here you were, practically captivating her gaze and you couldn’t believe it was real. Maybe you'd hit your head harder than you thought. Of course, she said something just as you got lost in your thoughts and you’d missed it. Expectation pooled in her eyes and she looked nervous. 

“I’m sorry. My hearings a bit shot,” you forced a chuckle and she cleared her throat, eyes shifting. 

“I said I’d like to kiss you,” words failed once more, and without another thought, you moved forward, removing the support of the wall in exchange for her touch. She held you close, taking your flurry of affections with open arms and parted lips. Her hands were strong on your biceps and back, squeezing tight with impending anticipation as your fingers pushed tightly into her hair. Her breath tasted and smelled strongly of sherry as it fanned over your lips. A gentle scrape from her teeth over your bottom lip was enough to reopen the closing wound. It added a familiar metallic taste you'd both grown familiar with in your mutual line of work. And just as quickly as it had started, it was finished, but it didn’t fail to leave you breathless. 

"That was quite something," Peggy murmured. your thumb gently began to stroke the soft flesh of her cheek as you grinned. 

"breathtaking, even" you added, your nose scrunching with a muffled giggle "almost like running up a flight of stairs,"