#Dark Trio

[1989-disintegration]

The Cure photographed by Peter L. Noble, 30. 8. 1981

[fierymiasma]

◎ Teach Him a Lesson ◎: Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis - Silver Trio

Summary/Request: Ever since the three of them started dating, Sebastian's been getting really jealous whenever Ominis starts kissing their girlfriend.

It's about time they teach him a lesson.

Requested by Anon 💗

Tags: NSFW, Smut, Jealous Sebastian, Dominis, Bondage, Hair Pulling, Sub!Sebastian, Threesome

Words: 5k

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

Ever since the three of them starting courting each other, Sebastian's done everything to be the doting boyfriend that they both deserved. 

…Unfortunately, he couldn't help the fact that he was sometimes a jealous git.

He has always wrestled with his jealous emotions, even when it was just him and his little sweetheart.  He adored having the complete undivided attention of the hero of Hogwarts.  Being her everything.  When Ominis later joined their relationship, Sebastian was over the moon.  Finally, now both his lovers were his, completely his and his alone.

Of course, he somehow forgot that Ominis and his sweetheart would fall for each other too.

For a while, he was able to keep his dark emotions in check.  Whenever he caught Ominis whispering Parseltongue in her ear, he would simply grit his teeth and close his eyes until the moment had passed.  Whenever she chose to rest her head on Ominis's shoulder instead of Sebastian's, he would simply grab her legs and rest them in his lap.  The brief moments would always pass quickly enough.  And whenever Sebastian was finally back in the center of attention, everything would be right in the world.

His storm of emotions was held at bay…for a while.  But as their 7th year passed at a languid pace, and their feelings only grew, the storm raged harder.  Sebastian would see how Ominis developed a small private smile, only for her.  And his sweetheart would read Ominis's favorite books out loud to him, lost in a fantasy world with just the two of them.  The storm raged and raged and raged until….

It had been a long day in detention as he paid his penance for his last bout of tomfoolery.  Sebastian had been so eager to return to the safety of the Room of Requirement, longing to smother his waiting girlfriend with heated kisses.

What he hadn't expected was to swing open the door and see that someone had already taken his place.

She was on Omnis's lap, soft smooth legs wrapped around his waist.  Her shirt untucked from her waistband, allowing Ominis's large hands to sneak their way up to uncovered breasts.  Her hair, normally so woven in intricate designs had completely tumbled down, waves framing her slim shoulders.  They were kissing.  Ominis had his other hand underneath her chin, bringing her lips closer to his.  Her hands fisted Ominis's vest, pulling him closer.

Sebastian cleared his throat, startling the other two from their kiss.  Their faces were soft and inviting, begging for him to join.  It always was this way.  The other two would always inevitably reach out and pull him into their embrace.

But it was too late, the dam holding back his storm of anger had broken.  His face twisted into an ugly snarl.  "Leaving me out again, you two?  That's perfectly fine by me!  I hope you have the time of your lives without me." He stiffly turned away, slamming the large door of the Room of Requirement much harder than needed.

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He avoided the other two. 

Sebastian shouldn't be jealous.  He was better than this.  Sebastian knew of course, that despite that fact that it was him that introduced the two together, that he wouldn't always be in the middle of their relationship.   He knew in the back of his mind that they were falling in love without him there.  After all, it was what was agreed upon.

So, why did he act this way?

His hand clutched the owl post she had sent him.  "Meet me in the Undercroft.  I got a new spell that I think will be to your liking."  Sebastian's frown melted.

He needed to apologize.  They both deserved better. 

As he stepped forward in the light of the Room of Requirement, he paused, not expecting to see Ominis there as well.  They were sitting next to each other on one of the many couches, hands folded in their laps as if they were waiting for his arrival.

Bollocks.  This was an intervention, wasn't it?

His apology was stuck in his throat, unable to come out. 

"Sebastian."  Their dove greeted, always the peacemaker between the two boys.  "Come and sit with us."

He obeyed, stiffly sinking into one of the chairs in front of them.  Like a criminal in front of a jury.

"I'm sorry."  He began.  "I shouldn't have yelled at you two.  I do love you, the both of you.  I'm…I'm sorry." 

"Thank you Sebastian." she says, voice soothing.  He didn't dare look into her eyes, not wanting to see the pity there.

"Sebastian, I too appreciate your apology."  Ominis's voice is sharp.  "But this is entirely unacceptable.  We all agreed, at the very start of this whole affair, that we were in this, all three of us, together. 

"I'm sorry, Ominis.  I didn't mean it.  I've never meant to hurt you."  Sebastian says lowly.  He can't help but wonder how many times he's apologized to the two of them.  Not just for this but…for….everything. 

Sebastian's hands curled into fists in his lap.  "I confess.  I don't mean to be like this.  I want you two to be happy together.  I…I just can't…"

He swallowed thickly.  "I'm letting my emotions get the better of me.  I have been for a while."

"Well, in my opinion, I think you're long overdue for a lesson."  Ominis declared.

"A lesson?"  Sebastian repeated dumbly, not knowing where this was going.

His sweetheart stood up from her comfortable position on the couch next to Ominis.  "A lesson.  Maybe some exposure into what you fear most would do you some good?"

She approached the seated Sebastian, towering over him impressively so.  She bent down at the waist, angling her jaw to meet his lips.  Sebastian hummed in pleasant surprise.  Well, if this was the lesson, then consider himself a very eager student.  His neck strained as he reached up to her face, begging for forgiveness.  She broke the kiss far too early, quickly pulling away from him.  Sebastian's eyes were still closed, trying to chase her retreating lips.  He only opened his eyes just in time to see her wand pointed at him.  Before he could react she muttered a spell that Sebastian wasn't familiar with.

"Incarcerous"

Thick black tendrils of rope shot out from the ends of her wand, slithering across his chest and wrapping themselves around the arms of the chair.  His hands tied behind his back, Sebastian strained his muscles against the bondage, but it was no use.

"What the fu-"  he struggled. 

His traitorous girlfriend giggled, tucking her wand back into her sleeve.  "I wasn't lying.  I did invite you here to show off a new spell."

"What is the meaning of this?"

Ominis stepped forward.  His hand curling around their lover's waist, in a deliberately possessive manner.  "It's as we said.  A lesson for you Sebastian.  Maybe, in time, you'll come to enjoy it."

Ominis pulled her into a kiss in front of Sebastian.  Their eyes fluttered closed, lost in each other.

Sebastian momentarily paused in his escape attempt.  A faint blush crept its way towards his cheeks.  His eyes were glued to their entwined form.  He hated how forgotten he was, cast aside like an afterthought.  His stomach boiled hotly.  "I don't understand this."

Ominis broke apart from their lover despite her sigh of disappointment.  "All you need to do, Sebastian, is be good for us.  Can you be a good, Sebastian?"

The realization of what was happening washed over Sebastian.  Ominis had always let Sebastian take the lead in the bedroom.  It was hard not to.  Sebastian's greedy passion roared too ferociously, and he was always too ravenous in the bedroom, consuming his lover until there was nothing left.

This is what Ominis must be like whenever he was with their sweetheart--dominating and demanding.  Sebastian never tried to imagine the two of them together in the bedroom.

Now, he was starting to regret it.

"I don't like to repeat myself, Sebastian."  Ominis's voice dripped with displeasure, drawing Sebastian back into reality.

"Will you be a good boy for us, Sebastian?"  Ominis tilted his nose up, looking down on Sebastian haughtily.   

There wasn't even a second of hesitation.  "Yes."  Sebastian groaned. 

"Then watch." 

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With only his beating heart keeping time, Sebastian couldn't tell if it had been mere seconds or hours since he had been imprisoned. 

Ominis had been taking his sweet time, trailing soft delicate kisses in secretive pattern along her skin.  Their kisses were slow and languid as if they were so lost in each other that time lost all meaning.  Sebastian had never before seen such patience in the bedroom, having always preferred to listen to his animalistic rush of adrenaline.  

The fibers of his heart were tearing in different directions.  Sebastian couldn't ignore how hard his cock was, begging for release.  He of course, listened to Ominis, dutifully watching the two of them take each other apart.  It seemed as if they completely forgot about him.

What was the point in this whole exercise if they were just going to ignore him?

I should be the one kissing her….Ominis should be marking me.  He tried to ignore how his cock pulsated with need.

"It's a shame that I can't join in with you two."  Sebastian's tongue was often far more clever than his head.  His voice took on a silky smooth tone, the one that Sebastian knew made his lovers weak at the knees.  "If only there were a way for me to get out of this rope."

They ignored him, perhaps deliberately.

Sebastian's back tooth almost cracked in frustration.

"Now, how is this even a lesson if I'm not participating in it?"  He pouted, pretending to be unaffected by this whole affair despite the bulge in his pants telling otherwise. 

Finally, the two pulled apart.  She looked at Ominis with an amused gaze, her eyes sparkling with some inside joke Sebastian wasn't getting. 

"Ominis, let's give Sebastian what he wants."

Ominis kissed her lips reverently.  "As you wish."

Where was this gentleness when Ominis was bedding Sebastian?

The long pale fingers that Sebastian adored so much lightly trailed up her back.  And Ominis deft fingers plucked at her dress like violin strings.  The fabric seemed to melt away effortlessly, leaving her only in undergarments.

Sebastian's eyes widened in disbelief.  He had always struggled with the intricate clasps, strings, and buckles of her conservative clothing.  Sebastian always needed to resort to tearing her garments into pieces from her body and reparo'ing them the morning after.

The pair got onto the couch behind them.  Ominis coaxed her nearly bare body onto his lap.  She leans against him, her back pressing firmly against his chest.  His hands roamed possessively over her exposed thighs, spreading them for Sebastian to see.

Sebastian shivered.

"Pay attention, Sebastian."  There was a hint of a smirk on Ominis's lips.  "You might learn a thing or two."

Half of him wanted to act out in protest.  The other half was dying to see where Ominis was going with this.

Ominis hands dipped underneath the breastband of her bra.  Sebastian couldn't quite see what Ominis's fingers were doing, but he could certainly imagine.  A moan was drawn from her pretty lips, and now Sebastian definitely knew what Ominis was doing. 

It should be Sebastian making her moan so prettily.  Sebastian's biceps flexed against the tip rope around him.  The chair squeaked in protest.

"Sebastian…ah…."  Her voice was breathless as Ominis's quick fingers make quick work of her bra, leaving her breasts for view.  Sebastian's eyes trail over every inch of newly exposed skin.  Merlin, she was so gorgeous.  She gasped, "Good boys look….a-ah…but they don't touch."

Sebastian's brain could barely functioning.  "What?"

"You're being jealous, Sebastian."  Sebastian's mouth hung open.  Unbelievable, the nerve of these two.  How was he survive this?  To just stay tied up?  Just watch the two people he loves most in the world worship each other's bodies?

His cock wept, straining against his pants.

As she relaxed in Ominis's arms, he pulling her soft thighs apart for Sebastian to see.  She shyly ducked her head, not used to being on display for another man like this.

Ominis whispered in her ear, just loud enough for Sebastian's straining ears to hear.  "Let's show Sebastian what we get up to without him, dove."

She whimpered for the other man so sweetly.  Sebastian's heart skipped a beat.  Those noises were supposed to be for him. 

Sebastian's eyes widen in anticipation.  She gently guided Ominis hands to her increasingly wet undergarments.  Ominis's long fingers pulled them to the side. 

Her eyes fluttered close, head dropped back to rest on Omins's shoulders.   Sebastian wanted to throw up, wanted to close his eyes and turn away from the scene in front of him.

He couldn't look away.

Sebastian's eyes traced over the long length of Omins's digits dipping further into her wet center.  They followed the fine tremor in her quivering thighs.  Her wetness clung to his fingers.

T-this was supposed to be Sebastian's job.  And yet, here was he completely immobile in front of her, helpless to do anything but watch his boyfriend and girlfriend engrossed in their own pleasure.

There was that familiar coil of jealous tightening in his stomach.  But right next to it, was his rock hard shaft, weeping profusely onto his slacks with need. 

He bucked his hips against the tight binds, trying to chase relief, to no avail.

"Do you think Sebastian's gotten over his jealousy, dove?"  Ominis asked.  His other hand snaked under her jaw, forcing her to look back at the man before her, a hard command to follow when her own pleasure was so distracting.

Sebastian's heart skipped a beat.  They were putting on a show for him. 

She groaned, opening her eyes to look at the pathetic tied man in front of her.  His muscles strained against the binds holding him down.  Her eyes trailed down his form to the noticeable bulge in his pants that was begging for release.

"I-I'm…ah, Ominis!…n-not sure." she replied.  The muscles in her stomach were tightening in anticipation.

"Y-yes, yes please, Ominis, I've learned my lesson.  Please, please, untie me.  Let me show you."  Sebastian begged, not quite even remembering what the whole point of this whole exercise was for. 

Ominis hummed, seemingly unmoved by Sebastian's pretty pleads.  His fingers quickened in their movement, pumping in and out of their girlfriend's core.  "How can I trust someone like you?  Half the times, I don't know whether to punish you or reward you."

She mewled, eyes shut tight, her back arching off of Ominis's chest.  It was getting increasingly harder to participate in the conversation.  She was so, so close.

"I'll be good."  Sebastian promised.  "Be good to you both.  Please, Ominis, I love you two."

Ominis's fingers stilled in their ministrations, hands pulling away from her wet thighs.  Their lover whimpered, on the cusp of tidal wave and yet unable to taste it.  He turned his face into her hair, hushing her further protests.

"Don't fret, dove.  Sebastian will help you finish, won't he?"

Sebastian could almost feel the drool trickling down his chin.  He nodded dumbly, so eager to show both his lovers how good he could be. 

As he got up from the couch, Ominis gently helped the poor girl up, standing on trembling legs.  Sebastian could barely breath, as he watched his best friend start stripping away the many formal layers that hid his body.  Vest now entirely forgotten on the floor, his robes banished to oblivion.  The starch white shirt, dress pants, and the undone tie, wrapped around Ominis's right hands were the only remaining clothing on the man.

Sebastian whimpered.  Only Ominis could be still so dressed and yet somehow look so naked.

Ominis approached the seated man in front of him slowly.

Sebastian sighed, eager to get out of the restrictive binds.  He couldn't wait for the real fun to start.  It was long overdue. 

Instead, he found himself being pulled off the chair by magic onto the flat cold surface of a table.  The binds felt like the cold scales of a snake against his skin, slithering their way around his arms and legs to reprison him to the table.

Ominis's smirk was borderline cruel, as he wrapped his tie around Sebastian's wrists before pulling them upwards on the table, stretching Sebastian to be fully on display.

Sebastian tugged on his wrists experimentally, only to have no budge.  "O-Ominis?"  He questioned.

Ominis leaned over the other man, his face inches away from Sebastian's.  "Remember, if you're ever in any discomfort, you only need to say the special word."

Sebastian's cock twitched in eager anticipation.  He groaned, pathetically simultaneously cursing Ominis while singing his praises.

His reply was lacking, Ominis gripped his chin, forcing his face up.

"Say the word, in case you need it for later."

Sebastian refused out of principle just wanting for Ominis to touch him at this point. 

Ominis hand on his chin tightened as a warning.

"Headmaster Black."  Sebastian stated the safe word.

Ominis hummed in agreement.  "Good boy."

Sebastian preened at the praise.

"Darling, help me get Sebastian more presentable, will you?"

She hummed, nipping at Ominis's lips teasingly.  "It would be my pleasure."

Climbing on top of the table, she crawled on top of Sebastian's chest, sitting so close to his groin.  His breath quickened.  He could feel the heat from her naked center, pressed against his stomach with his clothes acting as the only barrier between them.

Skillful hands started undoing the buttons of his shirt.  Soft lips left kisses on each area of newly exposed skin.  Sebastian's neck strained upwards.  His head lifted up, trying to chase her lips in turn to return her kisses but the black tendrils only tightened in response.

He whined, thunking his head back down in defeat.   

Her eyes flickered upwards, looking at Sebastian's pained expression in amusement. 

Ominis's wand pointed at Sebastian before the man uttered a quick spell.  His pants, belt, and underpants vanished, leaving him exposed on the table in front of them.  Now free from its confines, his cock bounced up to attention, begging for attention.  His freckles disappeared in his warm blush.

With another flick of the wand, a warm tingling sensation trailed down Sebastian's spine to his hole, as he felt himself get become wet and loosened in anticipation of things to come.

Ominis long fingered dipped into Sebastian's hole, stretching it out for Ominis's cock.  Sebastian bucked his hips eagerly chasing the new sensation.  At the same time, his girlfriend wrapped her soft hand around his weeping member, giving a few strokes.

This was death.  This was either hell or heaven, and Sebastian couldn’t figure out which was which.

The pair was unrelenting,  Ominis's fingers long and firm as they scissored him open.  He could feel their girlfriend's hand stroking his cock.  Her face was getting close to it, and he could feel tiny puffs of hot air on the tip.

His muscles flexed against their confines.  His hips arched upwards, chasing the dual sensations.  This is where he belonged, at the center of attention in between the two of them. 

Ominis's cloudy eyes darkened as he withdrew his fingers from Sebastian's hole.  The terrible sensation of being empty was very fleeting and quickly replaced with the heavy promise of a blunt hot member begging for entrance.

Sebastian nearly cried, trying to fight against his bindings to impale himself on Ominis's cock.

The other Slytherin clucked, before giving into his boyfriend's wishes, as he often did in these situations.  Sebastian groaned, the heavy hot pressure slowly shoving inside was so delicious.

With a wave of a wand, the black tendrils tying Sebastian's legs down disappeared.  Sebastian's freed legs eagerly wrapped around Ominis's hips, trying to pull him closer. 

"Are you forgetting someone?" Ominis scolded.  "You're the one who's so jealous of the two of us, but you can't even handle us both at the same time.

Sebastian's eyes flickered open.  He had almost entirely forgot about her.  She was still sitting on top of his naked chest. He was trapped under her predatory gaze.

What a sight he must look to her.  Shirt ripped open exposing his chest and abdomen.  His arms above his head tied up and secured by Ominis's green tie.  And his legs wrapped around Ominis as he thoroughly penetrating him.  His mouth hung open, letting out little noises every time Ominis thrusted forward, burying his thick cock inside Sebastian.

His cheeks blushed in embarrassment as she stared nakedly in want.

Sebastian's voice was almost gone.  "Please, sweetheart, let me serve you."

She hummed as her hips hovered over Sebastian's shaft.  Some of her wetness dripped onto Sebastian's twitching cock.  He could feel the heat coming from her center.  She bent over, her chest pressed against Sebastian's.  He could feel her hardened nipples against his pecs.

Her mouth was inches from his.  Her whispers tickled his lips.

"Hopefully we'll be able to fuck the jealousy right out of you."

Before Sebastian could fully process her words, her hips slammed downwards, impaling herself on his shaft.  Simultaneously, Ominis thrust forward, cock brushing against that sweet bundle of nerves.

Sebastian screamed, guttural and wanting.  His wrists strained roughly against the smooth silk. 

He must have died halfway.  That or he'd gone completely blind. 

"I-I'm close."  Sebastian croaked, his throat dry from his screaming.  "P-Please, darling, Ominis, let me…l-let me-"

She frowned, "Coming before me?  Before I'm done with you?"

Ominis tutted in disappointment.  Sebastian had zero idea how he acted so unaffected by this.  "Where are your manners, Sebastian?"

Sebastian groaned, They were killing him.  They were vampires sucking out his life essence and they were just laughing as they tortured him. 

She summoned her wand to her hand.  "Let's take pity on him, Ominis.  Looks like our toy is about to break."

Merlin, that's all that Sebastian was good for wasn't it?  Sebastian was just a tool for them to use and get out.  Just an object to serve them. 

He almost came right there. 

Sensing his incoming climax, his girlfriend smiled before whispering another spell.

And just like that the incoming wave of his climax had paused.  The brink of total ecstasy now completely gone.

He groaned in pain.  "W-what in Merlin's-"

She smiled, devilishly and evil.  Her hips had resumed, pumping up and down on his cock, giving Sebastian no relief.  "You're done, when Ominis and I say you are done."

Sebastian couldn't breathe.  Where in Merlin's name did she learn that spell?  He felt feverish, mind so clearly added by the push and pull of Ominis's cock and her wet center. 

"Sebastian."

He couldn't muster the energy to respond.  He was boneless, at the mercy of his lovers.

"Sebastian."  Ominis asked again, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. 

The boy whimpered.  He managed to lift his head a little from the cold comforting surface of the wooden table. 

"Keep your eyes open.  If you keep watching, we'll reward you."

Ominis leaned forward to twist his fingers in the flowing strands on her hair.  Firmly, he pulled her towards him, getting her attention.  She gasped, her hips stuttered to a halt.  Ominis brought the curve of her spine flush against his warm chest.  The glow of the Undercroft's candles reflected so beautifully against her exposed neck.  Ominis attacked her neck.  She succumbed to the onslaught of bites and kisses.

They kissed, their hips still working furiously.  She was bouncing on Sebastian's cock and Ominis's hips were unrelenting as they pumped into Sebastian's hole.

Instinctually, the raging storm that was held at bay roared back to life.  All the jealousy and envy made itself known.  There they went, ignoring him again. 

Sebastian has never been so humiliated, and yet, he's never been harder. 

He'd never noticed this before, or perhaps, better put, he never wanted to see how beautiful they were together.  How their bodies were molded for each other, like entwined snakes.  How they loved each other so perfectly. 

They were both so brilliant, so beautiful, so powerful.  What could they possibly want from him than they could not simply get from each other?

The familiar coil of jealousy slithered around his heart. 

Perhaps Ominis could sense his feelings as he whispered something quietly in her ear.  Her eyes cracked open and stared at Sebastian bound form.

And Sebastian was struck by how much she adored him.  Her dark, soulful eyes were filled with indescribable love for him.  And Ominis turned his head to face Sebastian so that Sebastian could get a good view on his expression.  It was the same soft features that Ominis had for Sebastian alone, reminding him of the day that Ominis first confessed his love to the other Slytherin.

It hit Sebastian like a lightning bolt. The realization that all his jealousy and fear that consumed him was nothing next to the mountain of his love for them. 

And he also realizes that everything they have done, and everything they were doing were to show him that they love him.  They have always loved him.

This whole time. 

"I want to see her come, Ominis." he begged.  "And you- fuck- too, 'Nis.  W-want you to both …feel good…"

He's surprised at how earnest he meant it.  No lies, no manipulation.  He could happily watch both of his lovers lost in each other, falling for each other.  As long as they were both happy.

"Y-yes, Sebastian."  She mewled.  Sebastian could feel her walls spasming around his cock.  "Ah-I-I'm…I'm so close."

"Good boy." Ominis praised.  He removed his hands from Sebastian.  To Sebastian's surprise, he did not miss their absence as much as he anticipated.  Instead, he eagerly watched skillful hands made their way to her clit.  She inhaled shakily as Ominis rubbed her.  Occasionally, his fingers would miss and slyly brush against Sebastian's pulsating shaft.

Ominis could hear how close she was from her small little gasps to the breathily quiet moans she would try to stifle. 

A particular flick of his wrist sent her over the edge.  She keened, digging deep crescents into Sebastian's abdominal muscles with her sharp nails.  Her hands shook as Ominis leaned forward to swallow her cries with his mouth.

And Sebastian laid there, loving the slight sting of pain from her nails and happy to just bask in her glow.

Ominis's hips came to a slow, rolling halt, and he redirected his attention away from Sebastian to plant soothing kisses along the curve of her spine.

Sebastian did not mind this.

After a while, her lashes slowly fluttered open.  Blown pupils gazed at Sebastian's wide-eyed innocent expression.  Her hands relaxed, releasing her claws from Sebastian's sore skin. 

Sebastian was still buried deep within her, waiting for her command.

She surged forward to kiss him, and he was happy to let her take what she wanted from him. 

"You're doing so good, Sebastian."  She murmured into his bruising lips. 

His heart skipped a beat at the praise. 

"Good boys should be rewarded.  Don't you think so, Ominis?" she asked.  She summoned her wand to her hand.

His heart nearly stopped.

Ominis snapped his hips forward deep within Sebastian.  "He's been surprisingly well-behaved." 

Sebastian whimpered in agreement.

She couldn't help but smile.  With a wave of her wand, the invisible vice around the base of his cock loosened.

He sighed in relief.  It felt like he could finally breathe again.

She did not let him rest.  Despite her recent orgasm, her hips were unrelenting as she started grinding forward on his cock. 

Sebastian jerked back in surprise, accidentally pushing himself down onto Ominis's thick cock.

He was helpless against their onslaught.  Pleasure washed over him as the pair took him apart, fucking him from both ends.  He felt so full, impaled on Ominis and so overwhelmed as his girlfriend milked his aching cock.

"O-Ominis, pleasepleaseplease."

Ominis ran his fingers soothingly over Sebastian's side.  "What do you need?" 

"Want you to come.  W-want to be good for you."

Ominis thumbs pressed hotly into the dips of Sebastian's waist, as he jerked his hips forward, setting a faster pace.  The tightly wound restraint that he managed to cling too was starting to come unraveled.

Ominis's voice was rough, throat dry.  "Sebastian, I want you to come.  Want you to come into our pretty princess."

They both groaned at his words.  Ominis always had the both of him clinging onto his every syllable in the bedroom.

Sebastian, already so close to the brink, moaned.  His vision went with has he released his load inside her warmth.  He might have blacked out half-way through.  He only came back down to earth when Ominis's pounding took on a different rhythm.  Sebastian mewled. He barely had any time to recover from his high. His prostate so sensitive but his muscles so pliant against the vicious fucking. 

At last, Ominis thrusted forward, reaching deep into Sebastian, as he emptied his load into Sebastian's load.  His brown eyes fluttered closed, loving the sensation of being filled.

There was a moment in which the very air was still, in which the trio tried to catch their breath.

She was the first to move, undoing the tie around Sebastian's redden wrists before collapsing on top of him.

Ominis, the dutiful lover, summoned a wet cloth to clean the both of them.

"Have you learned your lesson?"  She asked.

Sebastian hummed.  His mind already imaging all the future scenarios in which his bouts of jealousy would be swiftly punished with their mouths on his throat and cock.

Oh yes, Sebastian certainly had learned a lesson alright.

[mugiwara-shuenobi]

[neonscandal]

Manga With Me: CSM and the Concept of "Want" and "Home"

Completely blocking out the events of the first Chainsaw Man segment after reading it is not a unique experience. I am not alone in this phenomenon but one thing I always think about is the idea of "want" or "desire" and how it's this really messed up impetus for Denji to go on living, at least in the hands of Tatsuki Fujimoto, and the concept of "home". I feel like not enough people are ruminating on this so now I have to.

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: through CSM chapter 97.

First things first, in no way am I insinuating that Denji's reasons to live are not valid nor am I implying that a character with his background is better off dead. I think it's important to mention because we've seen that play out with the likes of Ash Lynx as an example and I hated that.

Tatsuki Fujimoto, the Jackass Genie

When we're introduced to Denji, he's not exactly living the life. Trying to offset the massive debt of his father, he'd sold off several organs including an eye and a testicle and was forced to work off as much as he could by handling the dirty work of the yakuza debt owner. Treated inhumanely and frequently left with barely enough money to feed himself, Denji appears to remain relatively upbeat with his only friend Pochita at his side.

Solely motivated to simply survive the day, hopes beyond that are seemingly out of the realm of possibility for him beneath all of his inherited burdensome debt. It isn't until he gets a seemingly second shot at life that Denji can dare to dream. Mind you, this is after he's discarded like garbage but it just furthers how alone and pitiable he is to be treated in such a way.

Even with this newfound life, his hopes are comparatively low hanging fruit to the average reader and yet, at every turn, Fujimoto takes these innocent asks and twists them into such unpalatable experiences. Most notably being his first kiss.

What's particularly interesting is the space between Denji's idealization and, of course, the subsequent reality of his wishes. For instance, have you ever wanted something so bad for so long that when you finally got it, it could never measure up to what you'd dreamt in your head? Because you'd sunk so many hours into thinking about it and putting it on a pedestal but... as we saw above, Denji really only had time to think about survival for the better part of his life. So the drastic difference between wanting a solid meal, wanting his first kiss, wanting to touch boobs, wanting a girlfriend, etc. They were so relatively short lived before being obtained, and yet, so catastrophically unsatisfying each and every time. It seems like everything Denji gravitates toward is inevitably something that will cause him great displeasure which we see most readily apparent in his attraction to Makima.

For all this suffering, you'd assume Denji would have had to have done something to have earned such karmic punishment but, to the reader, his only sin seemed to be being born to a recklessly selfish father. Especially when a great deal of his origin seems to be kept hidden behind a figurative locked door which is constantly teased and shown to be something Pochita urges him never to open.

You Can't Go Home Again

This, of course, brings us to the crux of why I wanted to talk about this in the first place. We see Denji's door, something he regards with unfamiliarity and trepidation, a few times throughout the story. Not knowing its significance until the very end of the arc but, for the sake of this discussion, we will consider this and his life with Pochita Denji's "home". Denji's wariness, his avoidance, it's not unique to him.

POWER

Now we know Pochita can seemingly read the heart of Denji (being that he is the heart of Denji) but I wonder how much Power the fiend knows of her former human life. From her introduction, she was likely murdered and left naked in the very woods that Power found the body in. Power is shown to be boisterous and very self-serving, her affection for Meowy being a severe aberration, at least at the beginning of her character arc. Again, not exactly living the life, enthralled only by the taste of blood and the act of killing until she finds herself somewhat domesticated through her employment with Public Safety.

What we know of Hell, Devils that die on Earth go to Hell. Devils that die in Hell go to Earth. Power wasn't exactly avoiding "going home" but her return to Hell destabilized her semblance of safety and comfort by way of facing the Darkness Devil. Even of the devils faced on Earth, Power always faced them with the same bravado that she demanded humans to kneel before her with. Either to generally disguise her relative strength or lack thereof (being that she was fighting in a group) or, in retrospect, perhaps her fear, too. With all the confidence, we don't consider what the Blood fiend's experience may have been down in Hell, whether she was top of the food chain or not. Topside, her experience may have been a little different when you have humans and lesser devils in the mix. But the fear she experienced upon her return to Hell caused debilitating PTSD where she had to lean on Denji and Aki a lot more as she was unable to care for herself or be left alone. In this sense, it tempered her connection to Denji, especially. Almost as if the progression from a life of survival to a life of relative comfort is toppled by the harrowing reminder of one's origins.

AKI

Aki is the best literal example of the negative ramifications of "going home". As he packs the kids up for a reluctant trip to Hokkaido to visit his family's graves, Power and Denji remain immature handfuls even on the tail end of the Darkness Devil drama. But as the snow falls and Power sleeps, Aki confesses to Denji:

Every year, when I went to visit their grave, I'd remember nothing but bad things. It was depressing. But this time, you guys were such pests that I didn't have the time to get lost in that.

It's bittersweet, this acknowledgement. Seeing their behavior somewhat changed, his own resolve toward them softening, he questions whether his pursuit of the Gun Devil justifies the possibility of jeopardizing the peace he's cultivated with his found family. A distinct change of heart in light of his previous attitude toward devils and fiends, not just Power and Denji. But moreso an outright defiance of the very thing that has driven his survival thus far. That, of course, being to avenge his family's death by killing the Gun Devil. His decision to pull from the expedition is, of course, manipulated by Makima by using her purview over Power and Denji to solidify his participation. The irony of his found family enabling him to resolve his need for revenge being the bargaining chip to keep him on the hook is dastardly. Moreover, the knowledge that vengeance was never even on the table for him.

The linchpin in this is, of course, the fact that, what precedes Aki's end is not his return to home but the Angel Devil's who he inadvertently and without knowing accompanies. A past Angel Devil had forgotten, courtesy of Makima, precipitates Aki's death and evolution into the Gun Fiend. As the battle wages, the fact that it plays out as the snowball fight with Denji was devastating in light of his previous losses.

DENJI

With Denji's integration into society, his many goals thwarted by the unsatisfying reality of them, and the comfort he establishes with Power and Aki, we see him grow to understand the world a little better. He's still a neglected and immature kid but his emotional intelligence sharpens with his aspirations even if they only go so far as to wish to impress Makima. With all the trauma he'd suffered prior to joining Public Safety and even the trouble he experienced with them, fighting and killing Aki the Gun Fiend proves to be too big of a breaking point for him. It doesn't hit him immediately. But he finds himself unable to enjoy such simple pleasures with the guilt and turmoil of killing someone he hadn't realized meant so much to him and comes to understand the loss and pain so latently. The end of Aki's character arc as punctuated by Denji, even as prophesied, was shattering to watch unfold. Especially juxtaposed with the innocence of the snowball fight in his consciousness.

This altercation, too, was preceded by a door Denji didn't want to open. A door we'd seen many times over. A door that he'd decided was best left closed wayyy back in Hokkaido. 👇🏾

Aki's death yields a significant windfall of money willed to Denji to take care of he and Power. Money, the driving factor in his previous suffering, is no longer a problem for him and he uses it to taste and experience more but they do not quell the unrest within him.

Even though Denji grown to adjust to the world he finds himself in with his rebirth as Chainsaw Man, this loss, in particular, forces a deeper reflection beyond the frivolity of why touching his first boob is unsatisfying. He laments the fact that every choice, every want inevitably goes to crap just as Makima finds him. Ultimately, this extremely low point (not unlike the misery she'd initially found him in), is exactly where we see their relation to one another come full circle: Denji, a dog to Makima's whims.

As Denji submits to Makima, we immediately see the cost of his allegiance. Not only by means of Power's death but the fact that her orders completely conflict with what Pochita has been urging him against this whole time. Never mind the fact that this is the second time where he knew precisely to what end the door he was opening would reveal. Aki. Power. But, even though his expectations have been met at the other side of that door, whether it be Aki's or Makima's, it never prepares him for the big reveal. The worse turning worst case scenario. Denji's shock at Makima making good on her word allows for her full plan to come into focus.

The door opens, the true depth of Denji's backstory is revealed. The irony of Makima, the Control Devil, condemning the actions of a child trying to survive the abuse of his father is something the reader doesn't have time to reconcile it before the next big twist to the story is revealed, the next big fight.

This cycle of violence and revelation without reflection breeds an odd disconnect from the events, probably not unlike Denji's own perceived experience. Perhaps it informs our collective amnesia when it comes to the story, again, not unlike Denji's as he's forced to play the part of Chainsaw Man. A blessing and a curse, born of affection and the belief that Denji should get to lead a normal, fulfilling life. But Pochita's kindness is unexpectedly barbed despite his innocent and unassuming appearance because the Chainsaw Devil is one so feared, one so renowned, it is marked and killed by many devils but he arises again and again.

Almost as if Pochita was avoiding the burden of his own nature like Denji avoided the truth of his past... I don't know, perhaps this rant was a bit self-indulgent but whenever I think about these 3 (to 5 if we count Angel and Pochita) characters floating through the ether of life only to be connected and summarily destroyed by the fact that they finally found something worth living for really just spoils my thoughts for where this story is going, what the grand message is. If there's even a grand message at all.

[crosslinked-art]

Boobs, ass, personality. The holy trinity.

[velvetroomkeeper]

I want to remind people something jujutsu Kaisen chainsaw man and hells paradise are the dark trio because they’re not afraid to push limits if you can’t handle this then don’t read it jujutsu kaisen isn’t a typical light vs dark story it’s meant to break these trope meaning that those who are on the protagonists side are can be just as morally questionable as the villains what Mei Mei has done to Sweet little ui ui is can be figured out from the subtext alone just a reminder folks

[bethanysac]

They just be saying anything lol

[shrimpkini]

*Tragic trio mentioned*

[kanis-things]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 345

Let it be known that none of them actually expected the idiots’ of the week’s ritual to work. The summoning hadn’t worked for literal centuries- everyone knew it had been sealed away, presumably forever!

(Of course they had no way to know that in the Infinite Realms actually used the term forever as a measurement of time, what with how time itself wasn’t particularly linear within. And to beings that could hypothetically live for eternity? Forever was a nice vacation time really) 

So maybe they hadn’t been exactly focused on stopping the ritual as much as they could of been, and by the time they realized it was working, well, it’d been a bit too late then. So yes, mistakes had perhaps in fact, been made. 

First had come the chill, the cold of the ground as your body was lowered down, the cold of your blood dripping from your living corpse. Then came the shadows, the darkness creeping along their vision as their soul slipped from their body. Followed by boiling heat, flames scorching through their flesh and tearing from their chests like a blade piercing their hearts. 

The form that emerged was massive, a cloak dripping crimson fluttering in the wind of an unseen battlefield, verdant flames licking at the air and causing the surrounding shadows to writhe. A dark growl echoed through the building, the stone below them shaking while deathly green eyes glowered down at the living with utter contempt. 

“Do any of you imbeciles know how long it takes to get ghostlings to sleep-” 

[wedarkacademia]

tgcf quotes that'll make u inhale ice shards

“only after having met you did I rediscover that it’s such a simple thing to be happy.”

“to some, the mere existence of a certain person in this world is, in itself, hope.”

“there was a period of time in my life that wasn’t easy, and during that time, I’d constantly think that, should someone witness the me who rolled in the dirt, unable to get up, yet still love me for who I was, that’d be great.”

“If I could, I would have you use me as your stepping stone, the bridge you burn after crossing, the corpse bones you need to trample to climb up, the sinner who deserved the butchering of a million knives. but I know you wouldn’t allow it.”

“something like a genuine heart is made to be trampled.”

“to watch with your own eyes your beloved be trampled and ridiculed while unable to do anything - that’s the worst suffering in the world.”

“to me, the one basking in infinite glory is you; the one fallen from grace is also you. what matters is you, and not the state of you.”

“those who have known each other for decades can become strangers in a day. we met by chance and we may part by chance. if we like each other, then we shall continue to meet; if we don’t, then we shall part. there’s no banquet in the world that doesn’t come to an end, so I’ll say what I want to say.”

“I will fight for what I don’t have. I will change fates I don’t possess. my fate is up to me, not the heavens!”

“I might not be able to decide whether the road is easy or not, but whether I walk it is entirely up to me.”

[1989-disintegration]

The Cure, 1981

[nepentheansea]

Pacify Her

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content!

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ・𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

premise: The devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him.

pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

warnings: dark elements, toxic obsessions, possession (but not the scary supernatural kind) smut (p in v-fingering-etc) tom riddle (his own warning) there is probably a lot more...

wc: 4.2k

a/n: this is beautiful and I don't care if you don't agree. shoutout to @demiguisemoon for keeping me company throughout this ride.

enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!

He never truly knew what you were capable of, or more so what his influence would do to you, and that was the problem. He had completely underestimated you, and that would be not only your downfall, but his as well. Pretty and pliant, that's what you were to him, the perfect match, not only intellectually, but emotionally as well. You suited him. From the moment you stumbled into his compartment on the train, down to the moment that you sat down in front of him, not a word muttered, but yet a conversation was had. You understood him, and quite frankly, he understood you, or so he believed.

No one understood him the way you did, the way that you clung to his every word like gospel. Feeding into his absurdities, but never once looking at him as if he was wrong. You supported him. Truth was you were obsessed. Incomplete and broken without him, much like a wounded bird, someone he could fix, take care of, mould into something he wanted, and you lived for it. Lived for the moments that he taught you, helped you, controlled you. The moments where he needed you and only you. At his beck and call in the late hours of the night, or for the favours that could ultimately get you expelled, for anything he wanted, and you’d do it, obediently. You were his. You belonged to him from the first moment, and though neither of you knew it, he belonged to you. 

“Is this seat taken?” You asked, slipping into the compartment faster than he could respond, but he didn’t. He pulled his nose from the daily prophet to study you. He had never seen you before, which was odd considering you were in his house, the green and silver snake adoring your breast, a Slytherin, and a pretty one at that, an old soul and kindred spirit…of sorts. There was something in the way you looked at him, that dutiful look in your piercing eyes, a look as if you could see into the deepest darkest depths of his soul, something he was certain he had well hidden, and yet what you saw didn’t alarm you. Somehow it didn’t scare him, it intrigued him, you intrigued him. He watched as you slid the door closed behind your back, before sliding into the seat across from him, hands trapped behind your back, and your head cocked to the side as you studied him. The slightest of smiles on your face. He should have known then, known what you would become to him, but he could never have suspected you to be as such.

Frail and malleable, obsessed and devoted, and you were his. His star, his pet, his property. You grew to need him, unable to do without the moments you shared with him. You found yourself lingering in the back of his classes, hoping that he would catch a fleeting glimpse of you, needing you for something, anything, to utilise you, need you. For the moments that he’d call for you in the late hours of the night, for the small favours that could leave you expelled or worse, with the promise that nothing bad was going to happen to you, he wouldn’t let it. The hours that you spent with him, soon turned to days, weeks, stealing away any moment that you could, eager to please, to be close. Somewhere in the dim candle light of his office, stolen glances, gentle touches, words exchanged. Finding yourself desperate for the after hours of study in the library, the ones where you could find him making his way from the restricted section, his pretty nose stuck within the pages of his books. Knowing you were there, dutifully watching him, waiting for the right opportunity to seek him out or for him to call for you. 

Your life had become dull. Classes lacked challenge, you found little to no enjoyment in day to day activities, your friends became distant memories, dramatic, but even your mundane routines lost flavour. All you had was him, and the little periods of time you spent by his side. At his beck and call, seduced by the ways he consumed you. Your mind, your body, and most definitely your tainted soul. He knew it too, knew that he could use you for anything his heart desired, that you would do nothing but obey him, follow blindly if he requested it of you, no questions to be asked. A perfect pawn, follower. The more eager you became, with the incessant need to do more, be more for him, he took to it. Giving you more and more to do. It had soon become a list of tasks, simple favours as he would call it. Hide this, seek out this, do this…And you did, you did all of it. 

Your blood rushed as you closed the office door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes scanned the dimly lit room until you found him. In the centre of the room, sat plainly in his chair, eyes roaming your eager figure. He looked as though he sat on a throne, one of his own creation, his arms extended out on the sides of the chair, comfortable and yet cold, observant. “Did you get it?” was all he said, leaning forward over his desk, the faintest traces of a smile on his face when the stifled giggle of yours fleas from your lips. You held it up, in the palms of your small hands presenting it to him, the book he had sent you to find. Restricted, forbidden even, and you had managed it, with his help of course. “Of course.” you whispered. He beckend you over with the bend of two slender fingers, and you moved on your own volition, approaching him with such eagerness. He took the book from your palms, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin, and you wonder if it was on purpose. “Good girl.” There it was, the praise you strove for, the praise that came from him and him only. The slightest flick of his wand had the door clicking locked, as his eyes came to study you once more. There was a fascination in his gaze, the way his eyes softened to you, desperately trying to hide the hunger that he felt towards you. You had something that he had never quite found in anyone else, something that made him crave you more than he had for anyone else…and there it was, the thought that you were his and only his. 

His eyes left you, meeting the pages of the book you had stolen for him, consuming every word on the stale worn parchment. While he was entranced, devouring the text, you were devouring the sight of him, leaning over the desk, eyes droning over the pages. He was stunning this way. The crease in his brow, eager to learn, and you were right there with him, desperate to know just what held him so captivated, leaning over his desk in hopes of catching the slightest bit of the contraband he had tasked you with stealing, no concern for what could have happened to you if you had been caught. But you knew that somehow, if that had been the case, he would have protected you, always, he would be there. His eyes darted up from the page, a lustful hunger to them, but for you or for the knowledge he had been enthralled with, you weren’t sure. “Look.” he instructs, slumping back in his chair, gesturing to the page, the hints of a smile on his lips. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned over the mahogany desk, feeling the hem of your uniform riding up in the back, exposing yourself to him as you did your best to read what was before you, eyes focussing on the text of ancient runes. It wasn’t of much use, you simply couldn’t read it. “I can’t read it, sir.” you mutter, chancing a look back at him. His eyes were shamelessly crawling up the length of your bare legs, and to the swell of your ass. He had looked at you like this before, that strained look in his eyes, like he was in deep thought but those thoughts were ones that he would never quite say aloud, the smallest of smirks on his lips, as he dragged his tongue along them. “I see..” he remarks, slowly pulling his gaze away from your ass, to meet your much more innocent gaze. It was one of his favourite things to do. To teach you, to watch you learn from him. It gave him the sweetest sense of power and meaning. “And what would you have me do about that, darling?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but that flick of amusement dancing across them.

“Read it to me?” It was a simple request, your voice strong and confident. You wanted to know, wanted him to show you, and he seemed to like the idea. Tom hummed, a sweet sound of satisfaction, as his slender fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, pulling you down onto his lap, a gesture he had never quite done before. He was confident in his motions, calculated and collected. He knew what he wanted, and that was you. His hands remained on your hips, fingers drumming on your thighs. “Read it to you, hmm?” He hums, delicately brushing a strand of your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your throat. Goosebumps lining your skin, while his other hand trailed slowly up your bare thigh. Gentle touches that were purposeful, and well measured. Even in this, he was in control. In control of himself, and of the situation. “How will you ever learn if I just read it to you?” “Teach me then..” you blurt, your voice had never been so soft, so demanding and yet desperate. “Sir..” you add, looking back at him. His thumb had started to draw soft slow patterns on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “Teach you….” You could see that he was mulling it over…”teach you…” he cooed in approval, a sinister grin consuming his face. “Very well, darling, teach you, I shall.” He gave a hearty squeeze to your thigh, your breath hitching and your body tensing for a brief moment in his lap, shifting your attention back to his face. Pretending as if he couldn’t see the way your eyes studied him, the way they seemed to have heart shaped iris that were only for him.  

His own gaze was casted past you, eyes scoured the pages before him, looking for something suitable to turn into a lesson. His hands still wandering aimlessly on your skin. “Here…let's start simple…” He leaned back enough, turning to look at you, his breath fanning across your lips from being so close. His eyes trailing up your features until his eyes met yours. “This rune here…” he starts, grasping your jaw with his index and thumb, turning your face, back to the book. “This rune…’othilia’ corresponds to the Latin letter…?” “o.” you state, looking to him for approval, his approval. A soft smile was all he gave you. “And what do you think it means…” His hand, resting under your skirt, had found its way to the crease of your hips and thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh, while his thumb thrummed against your clothed cunt. You found it hard to concentrate, to really look at the shapes on the page, but you had to. “Um…power, wealth?” you tried, letting out a breathy sigh, when his thumb found its way into the damp fabric of your panties, rolling soft circles into your swollen clit. You felt his lips against your ear, your head lulled back against his shoulder. “It means, heritage, possession..” he punctuated the last word with a flick of his thumb, a gesture that had a sweet moan falling from you. With precision he gently rolled his finger over your bud, nipping at your ear with each sweet sound you let out. “Focus….” he coos, drawing your half lidded eyes back to the book. “This one, ‘mannaz’,  tell me its correspondent…” Your mind was muddled. He had pulled the wet fabric away from your cunt, traipsing his slender fingers through your folds, collecting your sweet arousal, teasing your entrance as he waited for your response. “Go on…what is it.?” You hummed softly, searching your mind for what it could possibly be. “Um..it’s ‘m’ the latin ‘m’..” you whimpered, feeling the intrusion of a single digit slipping into your sopping heat. He was rewarding you, with each correct response you gave him. “And what does it mean?” 

You weren’t sure how much of this he really thought you could handle, not with the way that his finger was slowly thrusting in and out of you, his thumb languidly massaging your tender clit. He was watching you, his own gaze lidded, dark. Hungry. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way that he had you, pulling answers from you with simple touches. “Don't make me stop, what does it mean?” he teases, and yet somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you knew that he would. That he would leave you high and dry at a moment's notice. Your eyes had fallen closed, summoning all of your strength to answer him, as he slipped another finger into you, curling them against your sweet spot, just to feel your breath hitch and your body shutter in his grasp. You could feel the way that his cock had hardened beneath you, kept from you by the confines of his trousers, and it did little to help you focus any, it was cruel. “It means…ma-man?” you gasped out, his pace increasing. His lips met the side of your neck, tenderly kissing every bit of exposed skin that he was presented with, careful not to leave a single mark on that delicate skin of yours. “Very good..” he coos, his hot breath felt on your neck and ear. His fingers toyed relentlessly with your aching cunt, his thumb circling your clit gently, and his lips littering chaste kisses to your exposed skin. He had quickly given up on the lesson at hand, now far too consumed in the way that you were writhing happily in his grasp, soft sweet sounds escaping past your lips. Your back arched into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you lost all coherency. Lewd sounds left you like a sinful prayer, trickling past your lips with no real power to stop them. 

You whined, feeling the emptiness in your cunt as he pulled his fingers from you, only to have them brought up to your chapped lips, as he slid not one but both fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the pad of your tongue. A silent order, to taste yourself, to clean up the mess that you had made, and you did without hesitation, closing your lips around them, letting your tongue lap up any and all of the arousal that coated his fingers. He cooed, sweet and simple praises, between delicate chaste kisses to your neck. His free hand wanders the expanse of your neck, down to the top of your blouse, deftly popping the buttons one by one. His touch was featherlight, a mere ghost over your skin, and such a thing allowed for goosebumps to litter your skin. His thumb circles your nipple through your thin bra, smiling against your neck as it perks at his touch. He loved the possession he had over your body, the way you would let him do whatever to it as if it was his own, and you would argue that it was. That it belonged to him, that you belonged to him. 

You weren’t sure when it changed, the suddenness of it all, but you found yourself being gently laid down against the hard polished wood of his desk, your back draping over the materials he had been studying, and your skirt pushed up your waist. His body hovered over yours, his hands gliding up under the blouse that he had worked open, greedily exploring the exposed skin, his head ducked and lips ghosting over the spot his hands had touched mere seconds ago. Your eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, relying on your other senses completely. Gentle kisses, soft bites, and languid movements of his tongue as he dragged it up your sternum and neck, taking in the sweet smell and taste of your delicate skin. You arched into his touches, soft sweet sounds escaping you at every one. Each of your senses flooded with nothing but him. His lips were pending over yours, a silent acknowledgement, that everything would be on his terms, and you were okay with it. 

He didn’t bother to kiss you, and you didn’t request it of him either. 

Tom made quick work of removing his trousers, before his hands slid up your thighs, fingers ghosting over your cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you present in the moment. He hooked his fingers over your panties and pulled them aside, the cool air hitting your bare cunt, a soft hiss escaping your lips.  With his free hand, Tom wrapped his slender fingers around your chin, using his index and thumb to pull your face up to his. His eyes were cold, animalistic desire dwelling past the dark shade of brown. He tilted your head down so that you could watch the way his swelling cock slid into your tight cunt, forcing you to understand that he owned you, now in body as well.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, the unrelenting feeling of him stretching you out was nothing shy of pain, but a sweet sweet pleasure. He watched your face, mocking the way you fell silent, with a sly smirk to his perfect lips. He forced you to watch every sinful inch of him disappear deep into your greedy cunt, time and time again. He wanted you to understand, to grasp the claim he had on you. You were being rewarded for your diligence, for your obedience, and he wanted you to know that you were his, only his. No one else could touch you like this, that's what he was saying to you. 

Tom let go of your face, as he gripped your hips, jerking you towards the edge of the table. Your hands fall back to support you, arching your back slightly as you watch him with lidded eyes. As he moved, his pace picking up with each passing moment, you began to lose yourself to the delicious drag of his heavy cock, your sinful mantra of moans and whimpers filling the dark empty spaces of his office. His fingers gripping onto the soft pliable flesh of your thigh and hip was bruising, another simple yet effective reminder of who you belonged to. 

He watched each little tick of your face, each pleasure filled twitch of your lips as you fought off a smile at the feeling of him, taking in each little puff of air that left your parted lips, each pant and moan of satisfaction. He coaxed nothing but the best out of you, building your release at his own desire, his own pace. Your head fell back, your eyes falling closed as you did. You were consumed by the feeling of him and your body was reacting to it in the only way it knew how. 

You felt his hand leave your thigh first, before feeling it wrap around your throat, his long slender fingers wrapping around the curve of your jaw, as he willed you to look at him once more. 

“You keep those pretty little eyes of yours…on me,” he whispered forcefully. There was no room for mistake, you would watch him as he possessed every part of you. He controlled it all, and you’d let him, you’d let him do it forever. 

That's when it all changed. 

He had been sweet seduction, and the thought alone drew you closer….until she came along. Professor. Hawkethorn had never been his match, not the way you were. She didn’t understand him, she didn’t see him for what he truly was. She had fallen trap to his charm, and that was only the surface. You watched it happen, your late night sessions with him faded, he seemingly didn’t need you as much, and he gave not even the slightest inkling why. He said nothing, entertained nothing, did, nothing. His time seemed occupied, but not by you, by her. Selvine Hawkethrone, the new history of magic professor. 

Fine, checkmate. He didn’t want to see you? then you would make him. See you at your fullest, see that you were always there, that you had never left, and more importantly, that you were still very much his to possess. 

He needed to see you, not her. He had no business with her, she wouldn’t do the things that you did for him, you were certain of that. She was only a disruption, a threat to what you guys shared, and she had to go. You wanted to show him your devout loyalty, the extremes that you were willing to go to keep him, to protect him, to *serve* him, and so you would. 

You sat in *his* chair, his office dark and cold, nothing that you minded, as you waited…waited to hear the sound of polished heels clack on in the smooth stone outside the door. You pulse steady as the door opens, a small sliver of light filling the room. 

“Tom?” her soft voice echoed off the shelves of books, as she warily stepped inside. Once the door was shut, you waved your wand lazily, the candles that surrounded his office springing to life with a dull crackle. Her eyes met yours immediately, and they widened almost as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. She looked fearful. You had a crazed look in your eyes, as you looked over her in silence. She was pathetic, dressed in her best clothes as if she was expecting to meet Professor Riddle, and that's exactly what you had told her, in your little letter. Told her to meet you here, that you desired to see her, all pretending to be your dear dear professor, and she fell for it. Pathetic. 

“You don’t deserve him….” you said, your tone hollow, as you watched her flinch slightly. “Did you really think that he would want you? Send for you? Come on Selvine…you have more sense than that…” you continued, pulling yourself to stand up, walking around the desk, your fingers taunting the flame of the candle. “Professor…you were never going to be his match, his equal…he is destined for great things and you were never going to be the one to help him fulfil that…your just….” You gestured to her with the tip of your wand as if to say something cruel, your face contorted in disgust. “Weak, you're just plain….ordinary…” you said, a mock tone of pity, your face in a frown. 

Selvine said nothing, but reached for her wand slowly, not sure what to expect from you, but you saw it…”ah ah ah, don’t do that..” you warned. You were now pointing your wand directly at her, your grip firm and unwavering. You take a deep breath, tired of this moment…Selvine opened her mouth to say something but you were quick to silence her, ”Save it professor, you shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.” 

You flicked your wrist and a green jet of light bursted out of the tip of your wand without remorse. You watched with glassy, transfixed eyes as her lifeless body crumbled to the floor with a thump. The simple unforgivable curse stealing what small pathetic life she had out of her. She was gone. Dead. you lowered your wand to your side, and stood there, slightly shocked by what you had done. 

Tom had slipped out from a dark corner of his office, one where he had stood, watching the entire thing transpire before his eyes. His cold gaze watching you as he approached. Your eyes snapped up to meet him, startled, and unaware that he had been watching the entire time..but that meant that he had seen it, seen the lengths you would go to just for him. You had used the unforgivable curse, for him, something that you had never done before.  

You felt yourself soften, at his appearance, as he stepped over the lifeless body like it was nothing but scum beneath his foot as he approached you. Gripping your chin like a child as he pulled you to meet his gaze. He almost looked pleased, a small sense of approval in his tepid gaze.  

“You can't tell anyone, Professor, I did this for you...she was a threat, and I took care of it, I killed her for you...for us.” you pleaded softly, scared that you had upset him. 

The darkness he lurked in had always been seductive, and when he held out his hand to guide you, how could you say no. You followed, eyes never leaving his, entranced by the beauty of it all, the beauty of the power and knowledge that he possessed. And he was going to share it all with you. It was then that you knew, the devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him. “I won’t tell anyone, it's our little secret.”

[insomni-frog]

When your kingdoms are so far apart its a good idea to have some way of sending eachother correspondence.

Although its easy to forget how different the wildlife can be-

[neonscandal]

Re: this post, you know how I know Mappa is trolling? with every fiber of my being!?

why they make this look so lighthearted!? so silly goofy.. this is about to hurt so good. 🥹🫠

[j-l-kepler]

hi i can't help myself. if you ask me to help myself, i will cry

my tav + durge + hireling no companion run has welcomed halsin into camp for guidance because someone needs to be a responsible adult around here.

dvyen's got great insight so briar's blossoming crush on halsin was obvious from moment one. unfortunately my guy's got disadvantage when it comes to tact rolls and is as stupid as he is weirdly paternal. withers has a no-return policy on this one. durge is learning he has a sense of humor and a horrific laugh. what an educational weekend for the group!