#but it’s practical nevertheless. people do it because it works or it seems to work and the belief systems are just us

[bestworstcase]

How likely is it do you think that there are/have been Grimm-based cults? I can't imagine there's Never been Grimm cults, and I'm particularly interested in the idea of there being Grimm cults or even just organizations who Actually Understand the Grimm and safely live alongside them. I think it's such a fascinating idea, I'm very tempted to come up with a mysterious faction that respects/admires the Grimm (like how people did/do respect forces of nature in religion) and (mostly) safely lives alongside them. Any thoughts?

two obvious paths. whether the second is viable depends on how well you trust my basic reading of the grimm as sapient beings who reflect back what they’re given—dark mirrors—but the first is textually sound without any extrapolation required.

#1: the grimm as gods of war

these are the salient facts:

the grimm follow groups of bandits around to scavenge in the wake of their raids

criminals in mistral sometimes use captive grimm to execute members of rival gangs

grimm are more strongly drawn by violent anger and hatred than by sadness, fear, or other negative emotions.

it’s possible (per ‘before the dawn’) for one side of a conflict to "ally" with the grimm in battle if the other side is, er, tastier

ok. imagine you have a region where most of the people live in small nomadic groups—perhaps a steppe or a desert, their subsistence base is herding—with smatterings of fortified towns and villages around the edges of the region where there’s arable land enough to support a larger sedentary population. the nomadic groups can’t produce their own weapons/armor (mines, smelters, and forges aren’t portable), so they’ll need to either raid or trade with the towns for that. and conflicts between these nomadic groups over territory and other resources are inevitable.

how do the grimm figure in this region?

well a) the grimm are going to be following the nomadic groups around, with more warlike groups attracting more grimm, and b) grimm will fight alongside people against a common enemy if their "allies" are calmer or otherwise less appealing.

this is like… a perfect storm for the nomadic groups to start venerating "their" grimm as war-gods, in tandem with fostering warrior-cultures that prize tranquility or joy and mercy in battle; there is no honor in hatred or rage or taking pleasure in killing (our grimm turn against those warriors who lose themselves to bloodlust), so a good warrior must be calm, decisive, and swift, and never prolong a fight unnecessarily. but it’s also beneficial to make one’s enemies fearful and angry, or provoke them into hatred.

all it takes is one or two warriors who kept a cool head in battle noticing that the grimm ignored them to go after another warrior who went berserk and then interpreting this as a moral judgment. historically, we know grimm were thought to be the vengeful or corrupted spirits of animals, or animals possessed by demons; both are understandings that encourage this sort of thinking. these are animal spirits that cannot rest because someone killed them without giving due respect, and now they seek to punish those who commit such wrongs… so we’d better take care to treat our adversaries in battle and the animals we hunt with honor and mercy.

and oh, we should pay our respects to the grimm, too. perhaps make some offerings. they eat the corpses of the slain after a battle, so… a) we mustn’t be wasteful when we hunt, it isn’t respectful, and b) we should consider the grimm in our funeral customs.

this is a very basic. BASIC human impulse. humans will try to propitiate the fucking sky because we’re so good at pattern recognition and also anthropomorphizing things that we’ll find patterns and read meaning into the most random coincidences. take that and add it to the fact that it legitimately is possible to form alliances with grimm… fgrhjsv

under these conditions grimm-worship probably tends to look something like:

warrior cultures that prize moderation, calmness, efficiency, and clever mockery or intimidation of the enemy in battle,

funeral customs that ritualize feeding the dead to grimm, and/or ritual sacrifice of captured enemies,

grimm viewed as battlefield psychopomps and/or patron spirits of warriors, whether as a class or as individuals or both, and

incorporation of grimm-like designs or motifs into armor and clothing of warriors, to intimidate enemies.

with wide variation in the details and elaborations. the reason for this common set of foundational practices is that religion is practical. it’s not arbitrary. it isn’t pretend. prayer and ritual are things people do because it works, or it’s believed to work, and the right methods are figured out through trial and error long before they coagulate into tradition. so with something like grimm, whose behavior really can be meaningfully influenced, similar patterns will emerge across different cultures because whether a given practice does or doesn’t work is a) more than random chance or coincidence, and b) extremely easy to identify because if it doesn’t work the grimm will attack you.

& #2, the grimm as nature gods

these are my presuppositions, based on extrapolation from the text:

the grimm have a physiological need for aura, which they can get by siphoning; they eat their prey in order to extract aura from the remains.

grimm attraction to emotions is akin to our attraction to the aroma and taste of food; strong emotions herald deep auras or excite aura so it’s more "nutritious" for the grimm, so they hunt by following emotion.

because aura/soul separates from the body at death, siphoning aura from a living person is much more efficient than killing and eating; grimm will prefer to be fed aura by someone alive over hunting if possible.

because aura can be channeled outward through tools, clothing, etc, it can also be channeled into a repository and stored for a while; this seems to be how the grimm lures in arrowfell work.

grimm are intelligent, emotional, social creatures who can learn to recognize certain groups of people as 'safe' or as friends/allies, without salem.

grimm reflect back the emotional energy they’re given; they’re not "attracted" to anger or pain per se, they just mirror it. bristle and draw your weapon at a grimm, and the grimm will charge at you. remain calm and retreat slowly, and the grimm will keep its distance too.

if all of these presuppositions are true, you can propitiate grimm by saturating an object with aura and leaving that out for the grimm on the regular. i imagine that organic/living things that naturally have aura would work best for this purpose; sacrificing an animal or a portion of your harvest is intuitive, and if fervent religious belief alone isn’t enough to infuse something with aura, then priests or religious officials whose auras have been unlocked and trained will do the trick.

if aura-saturated offerings aren’t possible, then you’d need someone with aura training to channel aura to the grimm through, like, a stick, or bare-handed if they were brave enough or confident enough. this is a more uncomfortable option (like physically) but we have a canonical example of a character doing it: she found it disconcerting, but not painful, and it’s implied that the grimm didn’t attack her at any point during. so a) it probably doesn’t do any more harm than having one’s defensive aura break, and b) stopping the flow of aura to the grimm by moving away won’t provoke the grimm to attack.

as unpleasant the prospect might seem, if it clearly worked to reduce or eliminate grimm attacks on the community, people would do this. people would absolutely do this. the big hurdle lies in discovering that this is possible—like you’d need someone to willingly approach a grimm, lay a hand on it, and channel aura into it without knowing what will happen, and the kind of person who would even think to TRY that is very rare—but once it was known? religious belief motivates people do all sorts of unpleasant, uncomfortable, or even outright painful and harmful things to themselves. fasting. self-flagellation. hermitage.

like… waves hands. if it’s a known thing in a community that grimm won’t attack anyone if a few people go into the wilderness every morning to stand there and pour aura into grimm who pass by until they’re tapped out for the day, lots of people will be fully willing and able to do that. far more than are willing and able to become huntsmen: it’s not dangerous or difficult, it’s just going to tire you out on your assigned days. and if you have say, a village of a hundred people of whom ten are able to do it, you can rotate so no individual has to do it more often than thrice a month. NBD.

and if nothing else except the emotional mirroring thing is true, then you can… more or less propitiate grimm by doing whatever, because in this case what makes propitiation effective is community belief that it works: if you and everyone else around you believes that wearing pendants carved in the likeness of grimm and pouring a libation of wine outside the village gates to entreat the grimm for safe passage through the wilds is effective in making the grimm leave you alone, then no one’s going to panic or raise the alarm upon seeing a grimm wandering around in the barley field, and the grimm won’t freak out either.

if you believe that a grimm is a being that can be appeased and you cross paths with one in the woods, you’re going to do what you believe will keep you safe; for a huntsman, that’s "draw a weapon and attack," but for you that might be "hold up your grimm pendant and recite a prayer to politely wish it well and ask for its blessing in return," which—if the grimm just reflect your emotional energy back at you—will probably make the grimm pause and look at you for a moment before continuing on, which confirms and reinforces your belief that this is the correct way to deal with grimm. This Is How Religion Works.

so all that to say, as long as i’m correct about at least one of these presuppositions—the one with the strongest textual evidence, no less—then propitiating the grimm will reduce their aggression dramatically if not stop it altogether. and if that’s the case then i’d imagine grimm-worship is quite common and also varied in more remote regions where human-grimm encounters are frequent.

the shape of that worship will evolve out of how people in a given community figured out that you can do this with grimm. if one person tries a certain thing and it works, and then more people try the same thing and it works for them to, then that is going to become known as the Thing That Works and it will be gradually refined and elaborated on from generation to generation. and on the other side of the mountains they might be doing the same process but with a completely different thing that also worked the first time.

so you might have a village making huge ritual productions of preparing a feast for the grimm with a portion of the harvest, orchestrated by a coterie of priests who fill the offerings with aura… and in the hinterlands a few hundred miles away you might have a group of nomadic herders who leave the bones of every sheep they eat for the grimm and also have elaborate coming-of-age rituals where you go into the wilderness to prove yourself to the grimm by baring your soul… and up north on the coast you might have a whaling town where sailors pray to something like the leviathan or the feilong as a sea-god because their ancestors happened to stumble into a symbiotic relationship with a giant grimm that preys on whales and realized these little guys in boats make better hunting partners than they do snacks. etc.

basically if you accept a presupposition that the grimm aren’t "soulless evil monsters whose sole purpose is to kill humans" and consider them as beings that have some rhyme or reason as to when they’re aggressive and when they’re not, and the rhyme or reason is something humans/faunus could plausibly figure out how to accommodate and/or influence, there are a lot of ways to build a grimm cult. ’cause religion is at its core humans trying to understand the world so we can keep ourselves safe, healthy, and comfortable; worshipping grimm is just a cultural framework for a threat management program.

think about it in those terms, and take however you think grimm work and ask "what could people Do to lower the risk of grimm attacking them?" and "what might people Do that doesn’t really have an effect but seems like it maybe does?" and then start to elaborate from there with "okay, what stories do people tell to explain why they do these things and how they learned to do these things? how do they conceive of the grimm and their relationship to grimm? how does this shape the social and moral values of this religion?" etc.

praxis comes first, belief second. and the praxis develops through trial and error with the basic goal of "how can we make the grimm leave us alone?" so things that clearly don’t work will be discarded. (with ‘clearly don’t work’ meaning "we did this and grimm immediately attacked us"; people will tend to take "we did this and grimm didn’t attack us for two months" to mean "it worked! we should do it every other month!")

[hoshigray]

Hellooo, I have a requesttt. Bully!Geto & bully!gojo x reader please!!

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: didn't know how to tackle this, but I think I got it >:3

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting; satosugu + you are juniors - sex in shared space; college dorm - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play - oral (m! receiving) - facials - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - Eiffel Tower/spit-roasting position - slight degradation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, good girl, plaything, pretty girl, sweetheart) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside, tho) - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

“—Gaaahh!! N-Noo, shtop! No more, no mo—Oooh!”

“Aww, don’t go cryin’ on us yet; let’s see how much this pussy can cum!”

“Satoru, keep playing with their nipples; they keep gripping my fingers like crazy…”

Being bullied seems to be an everyday thing for a wimp like you—especially in the hands of Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto.

What kind of person lets two of the hottest guys in the school bully them? You’re practically nearly a full-ass grown adult; you shouldn’t be letting people push you around like it’s middle school! And yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to stand for yourself, too meek and reserved to step up the ladder of confrontation, even if it’s from people who’ve tormented you most of your life.

Gojo and Geto have been your bullies for nearly your entire academic life, starting from first grade. To say that your life was hell on Earth was just the surface, coming home in tears and wishing to disappear every single day. The emotional toil was too much to bear, so much so that you did everything in your power to make sure you didn’t end up in the same high school as the two, a task that you’re proud to act on as making friends and getting through the final four years of your primary education became easier to accomplish. 

However, this fulfillment was thrown out the window when you walked on campus grounds and discovered that after two years, your bullies had transferred to the same college as you! Not only in the same place but in the same dorm section and sharing the same class—had the world gone mad?! Just when you have accepted this new chapter in your life to start anew and fresh, these two spin back and the pool of anxiety swallows you back up and pulverizes your heart. There was no way for this situation to be envisaged.

“Ohaaa!! Shtooop, t’ooo fasst!!”  

And now, they have new methods to diminish your dignity.

Against your comfort, you and the two were assigned a spreadsheet to work on and have it done by Thursday, so you three were supposed to be working in the living room of their dorm apartment. Nevertheless, you don’t think lying on the couch with your back to Gojo and Geto between your legs has anything to do with the assignment…

You were squirming, Gojo’s slender hands cupping and fondling your chest, tips of his fingers tweaking your nipples roughly so that you whine helplessly. Legs spread open for your panties and bare cunt to be exposed when you were stripped from your leggings, and Geto toys your private part with his fingers. The sensation of his middle digit inside you was hard to believe, like the howl from curling onto the upper wall of your vagina.

“Uuuwww, ohmyGoooood…!” You throw your head back to the shoulder of the white-haired one whose forefingers circle the buds of your mounds. “W-We can’t be—hic—doing this…”

“Ehhh, c’mon, baby,” hearing Gojo talk to your ear so close has to be something out of a dream or nightmare. “Who says we can’t play with our favorite person, huh?”

You gulp at the lick of your earlobe. “Because…we have work to d—Aaahh!”

“Don’t think about that assignment when I’m busy shoving my fingers in you,” Geto reminds you, the pace of his digit increasing and the scrape of his fingertip having your toes curl. “Doesn’t the pretty girl wanna play us like old times?”

A hand grabs his wrist, yet that does little to hinder the raven-haired one’s diligence within your leaking chasm. “B-But…We can’t!” Jesus, it’s tough to think adequately the more Geto pushes and pulls his finger, brushing it up against your texture. Tears welled up in your eyes, your body sore from their constant touches.

“God, still cryin’ from being teased, huh, crybaby?” Gojo chuckles while cupping your cheeks. “Still a cutie, though…”

No way, there’s absolutely no way! You had to be dreaming because there is no way you’re awake to see the day Gojo is kissing you! Biting your bottom lip and shoving his tongue inside, your brain practically explodes as you moan in his mouth, and your slit contracts the rub of Geto’s finger. Did you just cum from a kiss?!

“Oh wow, they’re spasming like crazy,” Geto chortles at the sight of your legs trembling and your genitalia fluttering around the digit. “Cumming from a kiss, huh? Heh, so easy to mess with.”

Your response was deterred to that of imperceptible wails, crying into Gojo’s pillowy lips as he sucked on your tongues to hear you sob more. This was so unfair; this situation was not in your favor once you were dragged into their apartment.

Not even in the next phase of this meet-up.

Your clothes are discarded from your body to the living room floor, mounting on the couch on all fours, Geto to your front and Gojo to your back. The three of you are too far gone to think about the damn assignment—your frame too occupied by their cocks to evade them so.

Soapy lips suck on the dick of the dark-haired other, puffy cheeks making room for the limb burrowing inside your mouth. He fucks you orally with vigor, snapping his hips to your lips as your head pounds with every jab to the back of your throat. You’re not left with a second to breathe calmly, his girth overwhelming.

“Fuuuhhck, Jesus Christ,” he curses, grinding his pelvis and moaning at the feel of your tight throat. “Such a good girl, sucking me so well; got the mouth of a great cumslut.”

“Has the pussy of one, too!”

The words burn your ears, coming from behind as the guy with snowy hair plunges his length into your vagina. His hands are situated on your waist to keep you on him, the curve of his cock scratching your sweet spots too accurately that you’re forced to scream on the other’s shaft.

Gojo throws his head back with a sigh, “Fuckin’ shiiiit, this pussy…clamping on me so hard, you wanna milk me dry?” He bends down to your ear, “Want my load so bad like a little whore?” Squeezing on him was inevitable, making him hiss. “Fuck! Don’t do that…”

“Damn this throat, man,” you peer up to Geto. Your eyes have already released the tears stricken down your face, the lower part of your face all hot from the frequent hits. He chortles, “You look so good all messy like that, sweetheart…Holy shit, you looked so fucked out.” 

Of course you were; they’ve been toying with your body for ten minutes with no rest! Your frame was aching so bad, sobbing because of the cock busying your throat and the dick grazing your G-spot. It was too much to catch up with, especially when Gojo sneaks a hand to your clit to rub and swipe. Your eyes roll to the ceiling, and a scream is muffled, your figure submitting to the pinches on your sensitive pearl.

“Wanna cum?” Silver brows trench together at the clamp of your walls. “Do it, cum on my dick, you nasty crybaby.” 

More tweaks to your clitoris coincide with the erratic pistons of Gojo’s thighs, and you have no choice but to climax once more. Your cunt tightens around his cock with every hit of your orgasm, and he makes sure to get his raw cock out of you to ejaculate his milky fluid onto your back, painting your skin with his load.

The same goes for Geto as well, who grabs your head and roughly pulls himself off to paint your face with his essence. You whimper with every quiver and addition of his sperm, spurting to your forehead and decorating your cheeks to slide down your chin. You never felt so dirty in your life, your tongue accidentally tasting it from licking your lips. “Good girl,” he compliments with a teasing pinch to your cheek.

Gojo rubs his length on the cusp of your butt. “Man, cutie, you keep driving me crazy.” His fingers aimlessly play with your clit. “Now I really can’t leave you alone…”

Dread weighs your bones at his words, and you can only question how you can survive these upcoming semesters with these harassers. And now that they’re hooked on you, this fresh new start has become much more suffocating…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[incognit0slut]

MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon

Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.

Words: 6802

a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶

YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.

You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.

Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.

It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.

Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.

You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.

It was the FBI.

So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.

He seemed a little too cocky.

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.

Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.

The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"

You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."

"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."

A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."

His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"

"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."

He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"

"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."

The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"

His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."

"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."

"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."

"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."

"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."

His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.

"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."

He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."

The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."

A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.

You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.

"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."

The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.

It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.

Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"

You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."

The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"

"It's a mere precaution."

And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."

You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.

Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?

"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"

You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."

Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"

You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.

It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.

Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."

You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.

"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.

The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."

"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."

Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."

"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."

Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.

"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."

You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.

"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.

Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.

He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.

The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.

"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."

You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.

The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"

Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.

"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."

Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."

You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.

Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."

Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."

Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.

The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.

You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.

Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."

The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.

"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.

"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."

Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."

The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.

His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.

He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."

The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.

"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."

Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.

You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.

Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.

"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."

Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.

There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.

Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.

Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.

Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.

"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."

You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.

His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"

You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.

He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—

A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.

"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."

And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.

"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.

"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"

You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"

His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."

You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.

"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."

He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.

Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."

And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.

His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."

Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.

Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.

"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"

"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."

Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."

And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.

Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.

Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.

At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.

You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.

You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.

"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."

Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."

You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.

"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."

“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.

You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.

You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.

“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.

"I think I ruined her."

Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."

Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.

[darkmagic-s]

theodore nott's one star rating of dirty talking

Summary: Sexting through note passing, one of Theodore's favourite ways to bother you.

History of Magic is fun... only if you're studying it on your own. You're nice enough to pretend to be interested in whatever Professor Binns is saying, occasionally, because you would feel bad if he notices that you're falling asleep. Then again, Professor Binns doesn't exactly have a heart to feel sad about his students not finding his lesson interesting, does he? Nevertheless, you work hard to suppress the yawn that would threaten to come every five minutes. Scratch that, every minute, actually.

You look down at your notebook, eyeing it with disappointment. Every History of Magic class, your page would start with almost impressive notes and gradually, evidently, transition into lazy writings and short sentences. Sometimes not even a sentence.

The Salem Witch Trials were a series of hearings and prosecutions of people who were accused of being involved with witchcraft.

These trials occurred in Massachusetts, in the years 1692 and 1963, in which, as a result, twenty people who were accused of witchcraft being executed, and most of them being women.

Some of the women were indeed witches, though found to be entirely innocent of the crimes they were accused and executed for.

others are just no-majes

traumatic event

witches and wizards retreat to homelands

1920 second salemers

dada essay due tomorrow & practice non-verb spells

You pause in your reading, eyebrows furrowed. The Defence Against the Dark Arts essay...

That's something you'll worry about after lunch.

With a soft sigh, you lean your chin on your palm, your elbow resting on your table. How much longer until it's lunchtime?

Before you can even start to feel another yawn coming, a familiar hand from beside you slides over a torn page from a notebook, with a sentence written on it. Obviously it won't be a list of names of the Salem Witch Trials' victims, knowing your lover.

You turn your head, looking at Theodore Nott with a raised brow, before reaching out to slide the paper closer to you, your hand brushing against the back of his hand briefly. He doesn't even bother to fold the paper. He might as well read it out loud to the whole class.

"why the frown? :("

You can't help the half-smile that appears on your lips when you read the note. You write back a simple response.

"You."

Theodore practically snatches the note from you, undoubtedly excited that there's finally something exciting to do and you had to nudge him because of the noise the paper just made. He's not bothered, of course, already writing down his response.

"I will buy you sweets."

Your heart skips a beat, even at such a simple message. You glances at Theodore, who's watching your every move with that gentle gaze of his green eyes, a soft playful smile on his lips.

"Your hair looks fluffy. Would love to touch later."

You slide it over to him. You enjoy the reaction your message has on him, because he rolls his shoulders in what seems like a satisfied manner as his smile widens, before he starts to write. Clearly he thought of a good response.

"you will touch it later, and other places too"

His response comes with a drawing of a beating heart, which eventually increases and explodes, and the animation repeats. How cute, you think. With a shy smile, you write back, wanting to keep the conversation going despite how his message had left you a bit speechless.

"What do you think of the New Salem Philanthropic Society? Bold, don't you think?"

Somehow, your response causes him to snort, in which he disguises it with a fake cough. You quickly look at him with a mix of confusion and amusement.

"you're BAD at dirty talking"

This time, it's your turn to snort, causing the two people in front of you and Theodore to turn around, frowning. You want to scoff - you're pretty sure they're just annoyed because you and Theodore are interrupting their napping or daydreaming session.

Looking over at Theodore, you roll your eyes at him, before focusing on the note that is now in your hands. You wouldn't say that you're bad at dirty talking, more like... skilled in other categories of dirty talking, such as begging or... demanding. Perchance.

You write your reply with determination.

"I would need to be locked up in Azkaban for your safety."

When Theodore reads your reply, you saw his eyebrows raise - he's both surprised and impressed. He shakes his head with a breathy chuckle.

"ominous, but an improvement,"

There's another sentence below this one, and you almost choked on your own saliva.

"pull up your skirt for me a little bit"

You immediately crumple up the paper on impulse, holding it in your hand, and you swear Theodore's smirk becomes more evident. Is he serious? Writing this on a note passed in class is dangerous! But then again, someone is borderline snoring just a few tables away and Professor Binns isn't even sparing him a glance, no one is.

You smoothen the paper on your table and writes down your response, exhaling softly.

"This isn't dirty talking. You're just horny."

Theodore places down the paper on his table and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms. When your eyes meet his, he simply shrugs and pointedly looks down at your skirt.

He's waiting.

You sigh and make sure your robes are out of the way of display of your skirt. With your hands nervously gripping onto the hem of your skirt, you look around the classroom. Some are doodling, and some are literally sleeping. No one would find out, really.

You pull up your skirt by just an inch.

Okay, two inches.

"That's it," Theodore whispers unexpectedly, causing your heart to skip a beat. What handful he is.

He slides over the paper to you, and you notice he didn't write a response. You send him a questioning look, and he gestures to his body with his hand.

Oh.

You slide the note over.

"Which one do you want?"

The note is slid back to you.

"which one do YOU want?"

You tilt your head, contemplating. The hardest decision you've ever had to make today, you think.

"You don't need to take anything off to arouse me."

You pause your writing. However...

"The tie?"

Theodore seems satisfied once he reads the note. He looks over at you and loosens his robes around his neck, revealing his vest and the white shirt underneath it. With a smirk, he loosens his tie at the top of his vest, just a little, not too obvious - for your eyes only.

You can't help but to take the paper from him despite how it's his turn to write the message. Considering how the two of you aren't exactly writing neatly on the paper which leads to taking up all the space, you had to use the other side to write your new message.

"I like your neck."

Theodore smiles fondly once he reads this, not a playful smirk this time, and you think he might even be blushing. When he glances at you, you notice how his pupils are dilated.

He slides the paper over to you, and squeezes your hand affectionately for a brief moment before pulling away.

"you will mark it?"

It's clear to you how he's subtly guiding you towards saying the right thing, lest you start delving into the whole Second Salemers' background in your reply, and you can't help but to want to impress him.

"I will write on it in runes which would translate to my name."

Theodore chuckles quietly.

"nerd"

A true romantic.

You write back - shamelessly.

"You want me so bad."

You see him pressing his palm to his face, as his shoulders shake in quiet, small laughter. Naturally, seeing him smiling so big widens yours too. He leans towards you and whispers in amusement, "You are bad at dirty talking."

"You will never find anyone as good as me," you reply in a whisper, leaning back in your seat, putting on a smug expression, despite the fond smile that threatens to break though.

As Theodore leans in to peck your cheek, you can't help but to briefly think that, if you were good in dirty talking, a whole notebook would've been used up for this period alone. You needed to have a flaw, after all.

[newtkive]

confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

__

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Zoro is jealous of how impressed you are with another man's strength. A few insults and broken breezeblocks later, he makes sure he's the only man you have eyes on.]

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Roronoa Zoro is a man too busy to boast. He perceives his skills and attributes as a means to an end and not a goal in itself; achieving unmatched swordsmanship is but a method of becoming the world's greatest swordsman.

It's completely useless to waste one's potential only to earn fame and admiration. If one sees their abilities as a goal, they tend to abandon their growth once the goal is achieved, never discovering what they can really do. Therefore, boasting is a manmade border between the current state of things and the wonderful possibilities.

Or so he tells himself.

The crowd cheers again as the blue-haired boy breaks another stack of planks. Each time he adds one more obstacle, the mob of onlookers is sure that this time, he's bound to fail. They've been wrong so far.

Zoro and you have been watching the show from affair but only because you refused to walk away. Sure, on your adventures you have seen people or unimaginable skills and attributes. Nevertheless, the man on the makeshift stage is just that - a man. No Devil Fruit, no canons-for-arms or anything of this sort. Just a person with determination and years of practice.

"Damn, that's some strength," you say in awe. "It's amazing."

Zoro only scoffs, scowling while he stands with his arms crossed. "Come on, this is nothing."

"Oh, right, breaking a stack of five wooden planks with your bare fist is just a regular Tuesday, eh?"

"Definitely not for a twig like him," he answers while still glaring at the boastful plank-breaker. "A gust of wind could break his bones."

Something about his huffing and puffing doesn't sit right with you. After all, why does he care in the first place? Zoro is not the kind of person to be interested in things that are not directly connected to him. It's almost as if...

Is he jealous of the attention?

"You know what, Zoro?" When you turn to look at him, he notices the challenging glint in your eyes. You're up to no good, aren't you? "I'd love to see you try and break even one plank."

He scoffs again but this time he looks almost offended at the implication. "I wouldn't even get out of bed for one."

"That's not a good measure." You shake your head decisively. "It's already hard to make you get up." Then, an idea sparks in your thoughts - something he's sure not to reject. "Let's do it like this. If you can one-up that guy, I'll do whatever you want."

Zoro's brown eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. He seems to be trying to guess how serious you are about your promise. "Anything goes?" he asks suspiciously.

"Nothing that will tarnish my dignity." As a warning, you point your finger at him. "Or dirty my shirt."

Then, to your utmost satisfaction, he gives you a smirk beaming with confidence.

"You're going to regret this."

"I hope so," you answer.

He clenches his jaw at your frivolous tone, his mind racing in a thousand different directions at once. What do you mean you "hope to regret" your wager? What exactly do you think he'll ask of you?

No matter the answers to his questions, Zoro has found a new source of motivation inside him. He can ask anything. As nice as that sounds, and he's sure to let his imagination run amok, the more satisfying prize will be the look of awe you're bound to give him. If you're impressed with this boastful twig of a man, how dazzled will you be with Zoro when he beats him? Maybe you'll finally stop looking at other men like they're actually worth even a second of your time or a speck of your attention.

"Hey, wood boy!" Zoro exclaims at the top of his lungs while making his way through the excited crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Let's see who's stronger."

"A brave challenger appears!" The blue-haired man announces. Whispers erupt among the onlookers. "Or maybe he's stupid?" he directs his question at his fans. Then, when Zoro enters the stage, the man looks at him with a feeling of superiority smeared across his face. "I'll have you know, I'm the local champion."

Up close, the blue-haired man looks even less impressive than from the ground. He's rather scrawny compared to men of similar strength and he could definitely use a long bath. Zoro is almost offended that you'd look at this poser of a clown instead of him.

"Only local?" Zoro asks. He erupts in laughter, making his opponent's expression visibly falter. "Not much of a title. I've seen rocks bigger than this island."

The whispers turn into loud conversations as half of the crowd demands Zoro to take back his words and the other half begs for a showdown to see who's the true master between them.

"Ambitious!" the blue-haired man exclaims with fake casualness, clearly trying to hide his own uneasiness. "That's what I like to see. But I must warn you that breaking wood with the sheer power of your bare fist is neither easy nor simple. Are you sure you can manage?"

Zoro laughs again. His posture only grows with confidence while the other man seems to be becoming smaller with each of Zoro's insults. "Wood is for children."

The blue-haired man swallows nervously. Sweat trickles down his neck. "Alright then." He clasps his hands together, rubbing them to ease the arousing tension. "What do you propose?"

"Breezeblocks."

The crowd audibly gasps and you're not any different. To break something that can render someone unconscious, if not dead, without having to use much strength? Even for someone like Zoro, the suggestion seems more than audacious. True, you wanted to see him prove his bold talk but not break his hands.

But before the blue-haired man can protest or diverge the discussion, a group of eager men bring a load of breezeblocks on stage. Their eyes shine with impatience and desire to see uncommon strength as they take away the wooden boards and set up the first breezeblock for each of them to break. The hollow bricks are placed atop regular, clay bricks that the blue-haired man has used to lay the planks on.

With a light gesture of his hand, Zoro allows the apparent master to begin. The man stretches his arms and cracks his joints. Despite being visibly experienced in this art, there is a noticeable nervousness in his movements, too. As though he's not as confident as he was five minutes ago.

Measuring one or two times beforehand, the local champion slams his fists on the breezeblock. A muffled thud resounds and the crowd falls silent. Then, a loud grunt fills the tense air but not a speck of cement is lifted. The breeze block did not break but considering the agony on the man's face and the deep red of his hand, something surely did break.

Zoro laughs for the third time. Strangely enough, he seems almost suspiciously laid-back. He reaches for the blue-haired man's unbroken breezeblock and places it atop his. If the crowd was silent before, it's deathly quiet now. They don't even dare breathe, awaiting the resolution of this unforeseen wager.

His eyes meet yours and never stray as he punches the stack of breezeblock. They break, fall and crumble on the stagefloor. Zoro doesn't look phased in any way, nor does his hand look to be injured. Judging by his casual attitude, he can easily break a lot more than just two breezeblocks. Maybe one day he'll find out but not at the moment - that's not the point of his little show of strength.

Some people try to accost him or talk to him as he makes his way back to you but Zoro's usual glares and silence quickly mitigate their enthusiasm and soon the mob of onlookers just cheers among themselves.

"Alright, I'm impressed," you admit with a nod. "In capital letters."

"So, anything I want, huh?" He can't help the smile curving his lips. It's a big word that you've used - a little too big for Zoro's imagination because it too happily strayed in directions that might break his heart permanently if you reject him.

"I suppose you do deserve compensation for holding yet another title of a champion. The dreadful weight of success," you say in a dramatic tone. "Now, what is this 'anything' you've decided on?"

Truthfully, he hasn't decided yet. If this "more than friends, less than lovers" situation he has with you was a game of chess, he's just made his opening move. You played back and put him in a place where there are simply too many options to reconsider. So what choice does he have to make to have you in a checkmate?

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Kinktober Day 6: Cockbulge

Pairings: Inui x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, top/dom!reader, demon!reader, sub/bottom!Inui, sorcerer!Inui, size difference, teratophilia, overstimulation, mind-breaking, dacryphilia, blood from neck biting briefly

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Note: This ended up being very different from my original concept (and also way longer than intended) but I hope you enjoy what it turned out to be! :D Keep an eye out for this AU in a future kinktober installment 🤫

Inui was well aware of the dangers that this particular ritual held. Sure, any summoning ritual could go awry and become trouble quickly, but this spell was especially fickle. One tiny mistake or missed detail and he could summon something unwanted, possibly some eldritch creature that would destroy every known universe, but to him, the risks were worth it

He had spent so much time meticulously studying the circle that he'd need to draw, which materials you needed to place around said circle, offerings you were supposed to make, and even studying another language to learn how to pronounce the incantation correctly. Everything should be fine, it would all go perfectly and he would get what he wanted with no problems...

...He said to himself, sweating profusely as his arms carrying the backpack full of spellcasting materials trembled... Nevertheless, he marched onwards, deeper into the dark forest where you were supposed to carry out the ritual

Inui found the spot that he needed, a small clearing in the woods where the grass was noticeably softer and the breeze seemed calmer, where the only red flowers grew within the entire forest. This was where he began prepping for the ritual, casting the intricate circle with dried herbs, flowers, and crystals. Fixing several candles around the pattern and lighting them before stepping away to pull out his book of incantations, reading over the lines and practicing in his head. He waited about an hour, just as the instructions mentioned, before standing up and facing the circle. Taking a deep breath, he began the chant, repeating it three times as he walked around the summoning circle

He then put his book away and returned to the circle, stripping off his robes before laying down in the center, announcing his offering to the demon, “In return for your arrival and services, I have brought an offering of... myself. My flesh, my mind, and my soul are yours to do with as you please. Now, come forth!”

Tonight, Inui was uncharacteristically impatient. Normally he had no problems waiting for summoned creatures to appear, or waiting for spells to take effect. Tonight's spell, however, was very special. The being that he was desperately attempting to summon was a demon of lust, not an incubus or succubus, mind you. This was supposed to be leagues above those kinds of demons. And He was rumored to only appear before men that He found exceptionally attractive, which is what made this ritual difficult to find. Most of the sorcerers that committed to this summoning had no results, the demon refusing to come forth for anyone within the last 300 years, give or take...

Many people regarded this spell as nothing more than a hoax, claiming that it had probably become lost in translation somewhere and that was the reason it never worked. Some of the world's most handsome and skilled sorcerers attempted the summoning with no luck, so the magical realms deemed the spell to be fraudulent, because who wouldn't find these men attractive? That's what they all said, anyways. But Inui was tempted by the promises that this spell makes. Promises of "pleasure unlike anything this Earth could ever provide." And, "A love that no other could provide." These were loose translations of course, but Inui was tempted nonetheless. Hoping that if he was the one to finally summon the demon after all of these years, the other sorcerers would have to acknowledge his work, no longer able to poke fun at him or disregard his magic

He had other motivations for this summoning as well. The prospect of demon sex was very tempting...and since it was this demon's specialty, why not dedicate an entire year to studying the ancient books to bring this fantasy to life?

-

Inui's mind wandered as he awaited the creature's arrival. He closed his eyes, feeling the breeze glide through his hair and brush against his bare skin, his mind conjuring up scenes of what he imagined the demon would do to him. If it has claws, would it use those to scratch his delicate skin, drawing blood and licking it up with it's long tongue? If it has sharp teeth, surely it would sink them into Inui's tender flesh, marking him as it's human toy. And what about it's size, surely the demon would want to shove it's monster cock deep inside of him?

Inui began to squirm, his skin felt impossibly hot, as if he was on fire. His back arched as a single moan slipped out of him, rubbing his thighs together as his cock began hardening from the lewd thoughts. Suddenly, his hips burned, not in a painful way though, in a way that caused him to moan out once again

“My, aren't you an adorable little thing~ ” A low voice purred into Inui's ear, impossibly hot breath hitting his neck as a shiver crawled up his spine. His eyes snapped open to find a large creature hovering over his body, it's hands firmly gripping his hips and haunting yellow eyes boring into his, visibly glowing in the darkness of the forest

Inui wanted to say something, but the words died in the back of his throat, only able to gasp and pant as the demon loomed over his comparably small frame. “What's wrong, little one? Too stunned to speak?” A small noise escaped from Inui involuntarily, unable to process that this was actually happening. “Oh, darling, I hope you're not afraid of me now?”

Inui shook his head, not wanting the demon to leave him. “Good, good. ” It chuckled, brushing it's slender fingers against his cheek, trailing it's touch down the human's neck, smiling when Inui arched his back again, squeaking out some cute response and tilting his head up to expose his neck further

-

You slowly licked your lips, leaning down and grazing your sharp fangs against Inui's sensitive flesh, causing him to flinch and gasp. Gently kissing his neck, your hands traveling to his stomach and trailing your fingers downwards, stopping at the base of his dick. Inui whined in response, raising his hips up a bit to chase the addictive touch. Desperately wishing you would wrap those hands around his cock and–

“Already excited, are we?” Purring, you tapped his fully erect cock, eliciting a tiny noise from Inui. “Such a horny little thing, I haven't even touched it yet. Are you desperate for this kind of attention, sweet thing? Is that why you summoned me? ” You teased, baring your fangs and growling, just as hungry with lust as the sorcerer was. Depraved from worthy offerings for centuries now

“Take m-me...please...” Inui whispered. Spreading his thighs for you. You cocked an eyebrow at the request, the sorcerer's tone was meek, but you could sense the sincerity behind his words. Humming, you brushed a hand through Inui's hair, and he leaned into the touch, looking up at you through pretty blond lashes

“This is what you want, human? Once we start, I will not stop until you are marked with my seal. Are you certain that you can handle this? ”

Inui swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before his answer, “Yes. I want this, I want y-you...all of you. ” This greatly pleased you, a toothy smile spreading across your face as your slender tail swished from behind

“Very good~ Then let us begin, cutie~ ” You positioned yourself so that your face was hovering over Inui's cock, using your long, forked tongue to wet the member while your hands held the human's thighs apart. Inui moaned loudly when you swallowed his entire length at once, your mouth now flush with his pelvis. He instinctually grabbed your hair, tightening his fist as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on the tip harshly. Teeth grazing against the bottom of his cock and causing Inui to keen, throwing his head back against the ground and letting out a high-pitched moan

Precum hit the back of your throat, coating your tongue and drawing out a moan when you tasted the familiar salty flavour. You couldn't help but moan around Inui's thick cock, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch inside of your mouth. Which only egged you on more, now bobbing your head faster, wrapping your long tongue around his shaft. Inui was losing his mind, vision blurry as it felt like he was getting a handjob and a blowjob at the same time

He cried out your name, his back arching impossibly high off of the ground, “G-gonna– Aaahhh—!!! ” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the sorcerer's load poured down your throat, greedily swallowing every last drop. You slowly let his cock slide out of your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop sound, tongue lolling out and a bit of cum sticking to it

Already spent, Inui panted heavily. But you were far from finished with this new toy, licking your lips and immediately sticking your tongue into the human's hole, eliciting a scream from him. “Oh– Oooohh fffuuuck~ ”

You continued to lick and slurp Inui's ass, working your tongue deeper inside of him and shoving it against his prostate, making him shout out broken moans. Sobbing as his ass was stretched just from that thick tongue

Retracting your tongue, you quickly replaced the wet muscle with two fingers, pumping them in and out of Inui's wet hole. His head felt fuzzy again as his ass was stretched further, it already felt as if he was at his limit, his arm draped over his eyes and chest heaving. You wrapped your other hand around Inui's dick, giving it a few pumps before rubbing over his slit with your thumb. The poor human hissed, biting his lip and clawing at your arms, his dick still sensitive from the previous orgasm

This did not deter you, however. If anything it only made you move faster and push your fingers in deeper, once again hitting Inui's prostate and leaving your fingers pressed against it. Ripping yet another orgasm out of him as your hand milked more cum from his cock, the thick fluid leaking all down your fingers

Inui slumped against the ground, almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. With his strength rapidly leaving him, his hands fell onto the ground, releasing their grip on your large arms. You rubbed your hands over the expanse of Inui's chest, cooing sweet praises into your human's ear. “You're doing so well, sweetie. Releasing all of this lovely fluid just for me~” Inui could feel the rumbling in your chest as you spoke, voice low and gravelly. “But we're just getting started~ ”

Inui's eyes opened in bewilderment. He knew that this would require way more stamina than usual, human sex. What he did not expect was how every single touch from your clawed, calloused hands seemed to drain that stamina immediately and light every last nerve on fire at the same time. It was as if your touch injected him with lust, keeping him constantly horny enough to keep going even if he could no longer hold himself up

The familiar sound of clothing hitting the ground brought his attention back to you, having just removed your trousers. Which allowed your cock to spring free of it's constraints. Inui's mind appeared to go blank at the sight, drool falling from the corners of his mouth as he stared at your fully erect length. Most humans would say something along the lines of, “No way in hell is that thing going to fit!” But Inui Seishu was not most humans. Inui was, to put it crudely, a cockslut and a size king. Always craving the things that would stretch him open enough to shut off his mind, only able to moan and take inch after inch deeper into his body

These thoughts were not unknown to you, as every last kink and preference became known as soon as they laid down in the enchanted circle. Which is exactly why you chose him. Inui would be capable of taking everything that you could give him; he craved an experience such as this one, and you were more than happy to give it to him

As if your body had its own gravitational force, Inui inches closer towards it, beckoning you to slide into his tight hole. So you grabbed his waist, impossibly tiny within your grasp, and lined your demonic dick up with his ass. He gulped, glassy eyes trained on your cock as the tip disappeared inside of him, the stretch already burning in the most delicious way

“Shh, breathe for me, lovely. There's still so much more that needs to go in.” Those soothing words echoed in Inui's mind as another inch slid past that ring of muscles. His eyes rolling into the back of his head and mouth falling open in a silent moan. You soothed the human as best as you could, sliding in further and further until your dick had disappeared entirely. “Ooohh fuuucckk yeeesss~ ” You hissed, panting as his tight walls convulsed around your cock, his hips jerking upwards as cum painted his chest white

A devilish grin spread across your face, slowly thrusting into Inui's twitching body. He came just from feeling you bottom out inside of him. Such a good little pet for you.

A familiar tightening in your core caused you to speed up, chasing your first release of the night while your human was already on his third. Yet, you could sense the passion inside of him, he craved more. And more is exactly what you would give him. Slamming your hips against his roughly, you growled praises against Inui's neck, nipping him with your fangs and flooding his insides with searing hot cum

Still partially recovering from his earlier orgasm, Inui arched his back high off of the ground, wailing as you fucked him and filled him. His body going completely limp in your hands, breathing erratically and making the cutest fucked out noises

You took a second to catch your breath and revel in the sight before you. There was a large bulge in Inui's stomach where he was stretched around your cock, his insides pushed aside to make room for the impossibly large intrusion. His blond hair clung to his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down his skin from the intensity of it all. Your hand brushed some of the wet hair away, nails scratching against his scalp and pulling a soft whine from him

You couldn't stop the smile growing on your features, it'd been far too long since you had felt this way towards a human. Especially one that intentionally offered himself unto you like this one did. Hungry lips met Inui's soft ones, moving together harmoniously as your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying this moment before you gave him another orgasm

Inui moaned into the kiss when he felt your fingers brush against his nipples, playing with them so you could hear more pretty noises from your sweet human, humping into his wet hole as you did so. Inui gasped as your hips snapped into him harshly, pinching his nipples simultaneously. Your thrusts began to speed up again, causing him to throw his head back in total bliss, fucking him at just the right pace

The temptation to mark your cute pet up was far too strong, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his sensitive neck. Nibbling on the soft flesh as you fucked your previous load deep into his gut, thrusting faster and faster so that you could add more cum to the mess already within his walls, making the bulge in his stomach even larger. Inui whined loudly, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging at the roots, begging for you to cum in him again, “Please– Ah!! More...cum in me more... Fill me with your cock until I can't think of anything else– F-fuuck—!! ”

Cum flooded his insides once again, dick twitching as his gummy walls squeezed it all out of you, your hips surely hitting him hard enough to leave a bruise later on. Blood trickled down Inui's neck as your fangs pierced his delicate skin. Tears ran down his cheeks from the combined intensity of everything

Inui's dick became hard yet again, still glistening from his previous orgasms. “Sweet thing, will you cum with me this time? ” You cooed, wrapping a hand around his length. Slowly pumping it as you peered into his gorgeous green eyes. “Just give me one more, then you can rest. Can you do that, darling? ” Inui nodded languidly, his hips rolling into your fist on their own

You smiled at him in response, taking a deep breath before thrusting into him again. The reaction from him was immediate; his hips jerked forward, head turning to the side as a loud moan erupted from him, hands grasping at your wrist that was gliding up and down his member. But you continued on, cock reaching the deepest places inside of him, rearranging his guts completely as his body molded to your length

Inui clenched around your dick, his fourth climax just within reach, crying out your name while your thrusting became sloppy. One hand continued to jerk him off, twisting your wrist as you stroked upwards and eliciting high-pitched screams from him, while your other hand rubbed at the bulge in his stomach. Effectively jerking yourself off through his body, almost using him as a fleshlight

The way his mind just shut off was instantly noticeable. Inui's eyes became vacant, unable to look away from your lustful gaze. Little “Ah! Ah! Ah! ” noises escaping him with each rhythmic thrust, no longer capable of forming words as he becomes your dumb little doll. Arms and legs completely limp, the only thing really moving is his hips as they thrust into your hand, chasing yet another orgasm even though his mind is unresponsive to the overstimulation

“I really did fuck you stupid, didn't I, little one?” No response, unless you count the slightest change in the pitch of the human's moans as anything. “So good for me. Mm, cum with me now, let us complete this pact~ ”

With that, you fucked into Inui roughly, snapping your hips into his and vigorously pumping his cock. Biting your bottom lip as you grow closer to your release and finally cumming within Inui's tight ass as he squeezes you once more, his own release following only a second behind yours. His body twitched and writhed under your grasp as a glowing red seal was burned onto his stomach, the large mark spanning from just above his bellybutton to right above the base of his dick. The same mark as your summoning circle, a mark of ownership. Telling all manner of demons and other creatures that this one belongs to you

Caressing the newly etched seal, a wave of possessiveness washed over your features for a moment. Your darling human was fast asleep, exhaustion finally taking over after so much excitement. His soft features became illuminated by the moonlight and you couldn't help but smile fondly

You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, so as not to hurt him or rouse him from slumber. Soothing your hands over his body and kissing his pale cheek before lying down next to his side. You pulled him against your chest and spooned his small body, wrapping your tail around his leg. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, you whispered a few more praises and loving words into Inui's ear before drifting off with him

Tagging: @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Love and marriage

"I will never get married." Seven year old Lan Wangji proclaims to his uncle as he practices calligraphy under the senior's guidance one evening. It had been about six months after his mother's passing, and only two days ago that little Wangji waited dutifully in the harsh winter storm for the door to the gentian house to open.

It did not. It never will again. But Wangji's resolve seemed iron-clad, and he did not leave until curfew that day.

It had been a miracle how he did not become ill - or worse! - spending time outside in such conditions. But though his body seemed surprisingly unaffected, his mind had not, falling into a deep, pensive state, even more quiet than before.

It had been for this reason that Lan Qiren brought the boy in to spend time with him and observe him - all under the guise of teaching. Despite his young age, Wangji had already mastered calligraphy.

The boy's statement made his uncle's eyes lift from the book he had been reading, an eyebrow raised. Part of him wished to say "you better not!", as any other paternal figure would tell their child at this age. But Lan Qiren had a feeling there was more to those words than it appeared on the surface, so he asked:

"What brought this on?"

"I have been thinking." Little Wangji says, a long pause following as he places his brushes neatly to the side of his parchment paper. "It is because mother married father that she is...gone."

Lan Qiren stared, stunned, at the little boy before him. He seemed confident in his assessment, though nevertheless saddened about it, like a man that had found a treasure that brought him no joy.

"It is also because their marriage that you and your brother have been born." Lan Qiren countered, in a way that was almost gentle, if slightly chiding. "Life is not as simple as it appears to be. And not all marriages are the same."

Not all marriages are like your parents' - but Lan Qiren could not have said that without sounding bitter and resentful, which was unadvisable in dealing with a grieving child that was not an orphan only if by virtue of his father still being alive and nothing more.

"How do you know?" Wangji asked, earnest though disbelieving, "How can one be sure their marriage will not be... lonely?"

Lan Qiren stared at the boy again, seeing so much of his father in his honeyed eyes. How could he respond to that? Lan Qiren had never been particularly romantically inclined. If anything, he preferred the company of books and studies more than people, and he had never found himself yearning for even the concept of a romantic relationship. He had received numerous requests for courtship or marriage - some even for mere physical encounters - but he had never felt the need or the desire to pursue anything of that nature with anyone. What would he know about marriages, let alone happy ones?

"It is never guaranteed how such things may turn out." Lan Qiren replied, after a while.

Wangji did not seem to react to that answer. His uncle sighed quietly - what had he been doing, working himself up over the words of a seven year old? Kids his age are fickle, as it is expected. Why had he been treating the boy's words as final? For all he knew, Wangji may change his mind by supper or by next morning - after all, children his age do not have the conviction of adults, nor do they even remember their promises by the time they may have to make good on them.

"Regardless, if you do not wish to marry, then you may not if it is not necessary" Lan Qiren added, and little nodded slightly, satisfied with the answer. He picked his brush back up and continued to write.

After a while, he spoke: "I will neber keep anybody against their will."

--

Lan Wangji was 15 years old when he first met Wei Wuxian and it became apparent to all their peers and the rest of the Lan sect that they did not get along. With Wei Wuxian boisterous and relentless pursuit of friendship and Lan Wangji's ice-cold refusal of it, it appeared that whatever cordiality one might expect between young masters of their standing was lost forever.

However, Lan Qiren had raised the famed Second Jade of Lan and he could easily see it was not disgust or anger that he expressed over Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple, but rather an annoyed, relentless denial of his otherwise normal desire for human connection.

It did not bring Lan Qiren any ease though - Cangse Sanren's son was so visibly her own that the man sometimes felt like he interacted with her ghost - and he did not believe that to be a good thing for Lan Wangji. Despite his indifferent exterior, his heart was fragile, and Lan Qiren worried for him in the presence of Wei Wuxian.

It had been this very topic that had come up as Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen shared tea one day, enjoying the fresh magnolia blooms.

"It appears Wangji may not keep to his childhood promise." Xichen smiled, "I believe you have noticed it as well."

Lan Qiren sighed deeply as he took a sip of herbal tea. "You appear unnecessarily happy about this development."

Xichen smiled again, fox-like, and for a moment Lan Qiren saw his brother, young and mischevous, concocting plans over tea.

"Does he know?" Lan Qiren found himself asking.

"He seems to be struggling with it." Xichen replied, looking into the distance towards the training grounds, wherefrom a lot of otherwise unusual noise was echoing.

"As expected."

Silence befalls the two. Xichen smiles meaningfully into his tea.

"Would it be wrong of me to assume this is one of the reasons you have entrusted young master Wei's punishment to Wangji?"

Lan Qiren's eyes narrow, but he does not reply. Xichen's smile widens, but conversation lulls.

---

Lan Wangji had so desperately hoped Wei Wuxian would listen. He had hoped Wei Wuxian would be able to understand all the things Lan Wangji could not say, all his intentions, all his worries and all his feelings - and he would have listened, and agreed.

But he had not.

And for a moment, a traitorous few seconds, it had crossed Lan Wangji's mind. It had, despite how much he had tried to convince himself it never would, that such a thing would never even occur to him.

But it did.

He had thought of trying to do what his father had done in his pursuit of protecting his mother - he had thought of taking Wei Ying with him to the Cloud Recesses whether he opposed it or not, and keeping him there, safely, for the rest of forever.

He had refused even the thought of it, dismissing it as quickly as it had appeared, and it disgusted him to know his mind had been able to conjure it in the first place - the very thing he had sworn he would never wish for let alone ever do, had presented itself as an option in his mind.

And Lan Wangji hated it.

He had visited the gentian house that day, and stayed there until curfew.

"I wish to bring someone back to the Cloud Recesses... take him back and hide him away... but he is not willing."

---

For all the agony Lan Wangji suffered, he felt no remorse at all, as if he had fulfilled his fate in a way he had not even known had been intended for him. He had accepted his punishment with placid resignation, not even once declaring himself regretful of his actions. It was difficult for him to assess whether he had failed or not, but at least he had tried to protect the man he could have finally allpwed himself to accept he loved.

But, almost as though fate was keen on fulfilling the promise he made at seven years old, that very man had just been pronounced dead, the news delievered by celebratory letters and festivals that bore more evil than Wei Wuxian had ever done.

Lan Xichen carefully assisted the healers cleaning and bandaging Lan Wangji's wounds, a process he had grown to despise as much as he looked forward to it. It was only with this pretext that he could visit his little brother now, as he had been sent into seclusion, and it worried Xichen not to know how he was dealing not only with the new knowledge, but his own state as well.

As the healers left the room, Xichen stood by his brother's bed for a few minutes, in silence. He had hoped some words would be coming to him at some point, but he could not find anything appropriate to say at the moment, stroking Wangji's hair off his face instead.

"Were you there?" Wangji asked after a few moments, voice hoarse and empty, as if he had screamed it raw.

"I was not."

"Who was?"

"I do not know."

Lan Xichen had chosen to lie that day, and did not regret it. As much as he valied honesty, he knew it was not the truth Wangji needed then.

What was Xichen supposed to even say? That their uncle had watched the last few moments of Wei Wuxian's life alongside the other sect leaders? That the besiegers cheered on his death as his body disintegrated into nothingness under the force of the Burial Mounds?

That they slaughtered innocent people like cattle?

"Did they find him?"

"No."

That had not been a lie. Many had believed Wei Wuxian had not died, even if they saw him enveloped in resentful energy as he screamed in pain until all that was left was silence. They wanted proof of it, a body, a shred of anything - perhaps to only defile him more.

But they had not found anything.

Wangji sighed, the breath heavy from his lungs.

"I dreamt I married him."

Xichen's eyes turned soft, pitiful, "Perhaps in another life."

"Perhaps."

---

Thirteen years later, the Cloud Recesses murmur with excitement as groups of disciples move to and fro, carrying decorations and supplies like tireless ants of a busy hive.

The wedding is in a couple of weeks, but sect leader Lan as well as master Lan Qiren had ordered the preparations start early in order to ensure all is ready for the great celebration.

"For how much your uncle disapproves of me, he sure is invested in our wedding." Wei Wuxian laughs as he and his soon-to-be-official husband inspect the ancestral hall, the designated venue for the event.

"Uncle is very thorough." Lan Wangji replies, "And his distrust of you has lessened over the past years."

"I would hope so." A laugh, "Though he is probably more concerned in doing right by you."

"Nevertheless, I believe it is for both of us."

Wei Wuxian laughs again, squeezing his beloved's hand. "Say, I heard something from a very, very reliable source..."

"What did my brother tell you again?"

"I heard you said you'd never marry anyone when you were a kid. I bet seven year old Lan Zhan would be disappointed!" Wei Wuxian jokes, a teasing smile on his lips that Lan Wangji cannot be blamed for kissing right now.

"Seven year old me had not met you yet." He replied, softly, "He would've known better."

[sparxyv]

Milena Student ID 💜🦅

I decided to finally issue a proper introduction to Milena Chase for you guys so she doesn't remain a face without a story any longer 😤

Thank you for the template @kiwiplaetzchen !! 🫶

Brace yourself for a big infodump - here is Milena's backstory etc etc 🫠

Family

Milena Jacqueline Chase was born in 1874 to a French muggle, Henri Marie Chase, and a Japanese witch, Miyuki Hoshino.

Milena is the oldest of seven siblings.

The Chase Family™ is extremely rich, like, buttloads of money rich. Coming from a long line of vintners, they founded one of the leading brands of the best quality wines in Europe, as well as owned a luxury hotel in central Paris.

Milena's grandparents on her mother's side lived in Feldcroft, and still do. They often watched over the Sallow twins after their parents death when Solomon was busy. (Milena does not know her grandparents. 👍)

Miyuki - Milena's mother - was a Slytherin in Hogwarts, and was friends with Solomon Sallow.

Life Before Hogwarts

Growing up, Milena and her siblings resided in their family's hotel in Paris, France. Since their parents were too busy with business and galas, they were raised by the housekeepers and servants that worked at the hotel.

Milena was homeschooled, undergoing typical muggle education with many tutors over the years. She gained a passion for learning early on, intensively studying practically anything that piqued her interest! (my little Matilda LOL)

Milena did NOT go to Beauxbatons, yet showed signs of magic very early on. The only reason she was aware of magic and wizardkind because of her mother's house elf, Teeley. (we love Teeley 🫶)

She had so much free time on her hands that she'd mastered and studied so many different things, making her a true jack of all trades! Some of these things include - Chess, fencing, horseback riding, painting, embroidery, baking, PLUS she's fluent in German and Russian (in addition to English and French).

Relationships

I'm planning on going more in depth with Milena's relationships in a series of separate posts so I'm just going to list her closest friends 💜

Sebastian Sallow

Anne Sallow

Ominis Gaunt

Imelda Reyes

Athol 'Mousey' McGregor

Samantha Dale

Amit Thakkar

Natsai Onai

Garreth Weasley

Poppy Sweeting

Sacharissa Tugwood

Richard Jackdaw

Personality

MBTI - ENTJ-A

Alignment - Neutral Good

I really think of Milena's personality as close to the in-game MC as possible, but I do tend to wander from that sometimes.. 😗😗

Milena always strives to help out people when faced with trouble, but never actively seeks out problems to solve - they just always seem to find her. Nevertheless, she always takes on difficult situations and rises to the challenge.

It helps a lot that she's very self-assured, something that came out of spending most of her childhood alone and taking care of herself AND others. That being noted, she's a natural born leader. Milena is assertive and logical and can easily adjust and adapt to many different situations - which makes her the perfect person to deal with a certain Slytherin boy who's emotions control him and not the other way around.. 👀👀

Milena is an ambivert. While she enjoys socializing, she's also comfortable being alone. She doesn't exactly prefer one over the other though. Socializing comes easy to her, and she has a secure attachment style when it comes to her relationships, never really feeling insecure about them or getting jealous easily. Milena tends to be more mature, and she never internalizes things when people are rude - but because she's so calm and mellow, people are usually either drawn to her or intimidated by her.

As a Ravenclaw, Milena is naturally curious! She's constantly on the hunt to learn new things, which is why she enjoys exploring outside of Hogwarts so much, taking in everything she can about the hamlets and just the Highlands in general. Her curiousity helps her find wonder in even the smallest of things. She's very open-minded, yet nearly always at least slightly skeptical when it comes to new things. She can be very opinionated, but is always open to other perspectives.

Milena is not one to be overly expressive with her emotions (but to be clear - she doesn't hide them either 😗), yet she does have a side of her that naturally comes out only when she feels comfortable. With friends like Sebastian especially, she feels like she can let loose and be more playful as well as a bit snarky/sarcastic.

Additional Fun Facts!

I've already mentioned this before - but Milena's absolute favorite things in the world are BIRDS. Birds of all kinds. She knows everything about every species, and I mean everything. And somehow, birds naturally flock to her like she's some type of woodland princess.

Milena's hair is NOT naturally curly/wavy, nor is it naturally auburn! Prior to Hogwarts, she used a charm to change her hair color, but it seemed to have some extra effects on her hair texture too..

Milena doesn't often speak French after arriving at Hogwarts, but since it's her native language, she finds it much easier to express herself in French even though she speaks near-perfect English. She also enjoys sneaking in French phrases to occasionally mess with Sebastian since he has no idea what she's saying 🥰🥰

Her love language is gift-giving, but when it comes to receiving it would be acts of service and quality time.

Is VERY passionate about potion-making.

Becomes an animagus in the summer before sixth-year, her animagus form being a giant golden eagle!

Already mentioned but she's quite fearless, except for when it comes to mooncalves. (She's more creeped out by them than scared of them, though.)

More of a dog person - Raphael is the exception 💜

Seeker for Ravenclaw in her sixth-year!

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

First Times (Poly Relationship w/ John & Ghost Headcanons)

I spent the morning exploring Hackney, which is rich in breweries. While wandering about, I got to thinking, what if…

John starts working at a brewery when he retires from the army?

OR!

He starts a micro brewery/pub with Simon, who retires around the same time.

🍺 The two men set to work immediately to acquire the proper licenses and a premise. Fortunately for the both of them, they’re quite handy and so know how to create a lovely, albeit very manly, space without too much interference from contractors. After all, why hire others for work you can do yourself?

🍺 Honestly, the business is a dream come true for John. Owning a micro brewery was his Plan B should things not work out with the army. However, it’s because of his former employment, he’s become a better business owner. It’s through the development of his leadership and risk-assessment skills he managed to secure the rank of captain.

🍺 For Simon, the brewery is an unexpected ambition, a new dream to follow. While he lets John do most of the marketing (because Simon can’t be arsed with social media… being social in general), he’s mostly pre-occupied with the creation of new and improvement of the already existing craft beers.

🍺 The business steadily grows as word gets about town. Soon, it’s not only the local Hackney residents who pop by, but also people from other boroughs.

🍺 Including you.

🍺 Come from Inner London, the people of the area find you somewhat of a posh puppy, a bit of a toff. It’s this view of you which makes them wonder what on Earth you’re doing in East London, this artsy and not as affluent part of the city.

🍺 Nevertheless, you’re a sight for sore eyes if you ask Simon, who’s your old neighbour back from the few years you lived in Manchester after moving there with your parents.

🍺 Though gruff and distant in the beginning, Simon gradually warmed up to you. Despite never opening up emotionally, you two did develop a strong amiable bond. Maybe because you were the only one to greet him on the street, to ask about his career after catching a glimpse of the dog tag around his neck, to welcome him back each time he was deployed.

🍺 To show sincere interest in him.

🍺 Your parents weren’t a fan of you socializing with the giant in the skull balaclava, but they never told you off for it since you two always seemed to have a good time. Moreover, they rarely saw you smile unless you were with him. So they let it slide, prioritizing your happiness over their prejudice.

🍺 It was only in the spring before you moved without telling him where to and he was deployed yet again, Simon realized he had feelings for you. Nonetheless, he put them aside or, rather, suppressed them until they numbed. He had nothing to offer, fifteen years your elder and terribly haunted.

🍺 So imagine his surprise and absolute delight when you stand in front of him, prettier than he can remember. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

🍺 “Y/N,” it’s the only thing he can say, finally out loud after years of uttering it in silence.

🍺 “Who’s this fair lady?” John slides up next to Simon, arms crossed as he takes you in. His sea blue eyes darken when they meet yours. “How can we help, miss?”

🍺 The way he practically purrs the words sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Yet, you conceal the effect he has on you behind a steady voice. “I saw the notice on the window, about the open position. Has it been filled in the meanwhile or can I still apply?”

🍺 “She’s a good one, John. Hardworking, trustworthy, kind. Fast learner too,” Simon says pensively.

🍺 “Got experience in the field?” John asks.

🍺 “Studied psychology, during which I mostly focused on the effect of marketing on the human psyche. Also run a food blog and Instagram”

🍺 “Thank Simon properly before you leave. I trust his judgment and seeing he knows you best, I’ll take his word for it.” He slaps his business partner on the shoulder. “Drop by tomorrow and we’ll discuss your contract. I’m looking forward to working with you…”

🍺 “Y/N.”

🍺 “Y/N...” John repeats thoughtfully. Then he hums and heads off.

🍺 Thus begins a series of firsts and connections as you settle down in Hackney.

🍺 Over the course of a few weeks, the locals come to see you as one of their own as you show them you simply aren’t some girl with rich parents, a spoiled princess, but a young woman trying to make a life for herself with her own hard-earned money via helping at the counter and striking up conversations.

🍺 John and you grow closer too. He admires and respects your eye for detail and aesthetics, though sometimes he feels a little awkward when you’re trying to direct him for the occasional TikTok. Nevertheless, it’s your creativity that keeps drawing him in, igniting the need to keep getting closer to you. What also helps is you bringing him coffee or reminding him to take breaks (both with a kiss on the cheek later down the line).

🍺 Loves to review the content you create together, especially when you’re in his lap while doing so.

🍺 On your mutual days off, John drags you all over London to visit bakeries and cafés. Never had you thought him a foodie, though it’s a pleasant discovery since there’s always something new to experience on the food scene. Moreover, he loves helping you out with your own blog, not just the one you created for the brewery.

🍺 These days, you’re teaching him photography and are taking baking classes together. Although, you might as well go on your own to the latter because he’s a terrible baker (unlike Simon, who’s self-taught and surprisingly good, like, sale-appropriate why-doesn’t-he-have-at-least-a-micro-bakery good).

🍺 Your bond with Simon mostly rekindles via being his guinea pig. He knows how brutally honest you can be in your feedback, which he thoroughly appreciates. Outside work, the two of you frequent bookshops, have picnics in the major parks in London, and visit the city’s oldest cemeteries. The latter is a bit of a morbid idea of a nice outing, but you appreciate the silence and romantic sense of decay in the air.

🍺 It isn’t long before you take up residence in the apartment the two men share, which leaves the other residents of the building wondering about your relationships to one another. Although, they can guess at the nature of it seeing the “noise” at night. As I said, lots of first including a relationship with two men older than you.

🍺 But aside from the plethora of sensual moments, there are also plenty of tender (and domestic) firsts. For example, Simon accompanies you to your first tattoo appointment. When, the next day, you’re struck by tattoo flu, he takes care of you. Of course John doesn’t force you to come to work nor Simon for that matter, who you clearly need at the moment (despite claiming otherwise). Henceforth, you’re both granted PTO until you’re back on your feet.

🍺 Speaking of the former-captain, John is your very first kiss. You and him went out for pizza (Simon preferring to stay home and read). On the way to Hackney Wick, beneath a bridge heavily decorated with graffiti and sheltering a few barges, he put his hands on your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. He tasted of tobacco and white wine, laced with the sweetness of tomatoes and basil. That night, he made love to you.

🍺 Another first.

🍺 Simon prepared breakfast the next morning, serving food to ensure John and you wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion later in the day. Nor him, for that matter, because while he doesn’t get jealous and loves sharing you with his best friend, he sometimes wishes you wouldn’t go at it till early in the morning when the next day is an ordinary work day.

🍺 You’re there for them when either of them suffers from night terrors or combat stress. Simon is more prone to the former, whereas John is to the latter.

🍺 You accompany Simon to therapy too after he’s been diagnosed with PTSD. At first he didn’t want to go, refused it even, until he finally relented after another episode of flashbacks and coming to his senses while shaking in your arms.

🍺 Life with John and Simon isn’t always easy nor romantic.

🍺 But bloody hell, do they make it better.

[simplyreveries]

Hi, there! :D

I saw that orders are open so if it's not too much trouble I would like to request:

Type: Headcanons (Romantic) Reader: Female

Scenario: How do they (Silver, Jade and Deuce) handle jealousy when they see that the prefect (his crush) starts getting suitors or admirers from other students?

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure. Thanks :D (i shyly leaves the blog)

jealousy; silver, jade, and deuce

thanks for being patient!! love the request<3

silver

he hasn't had much experience with love, and you know, actually having feelings for someone. he doesn't know what to say or what to really do when it comes to someone like you, that has become so special and dear to him- he doesn't like this feeling of being jealousy one bit, feeling the twinge and burning in his chest when he sees others making advances towards you. he feels as if it's almost inevitable though, he puts you on such a pedestal that he isn't surprised you would have some suitors and people chasing after you.

silver is a bit awkward around you as he doesn't exactly know how to act, he seems to usually be his quiet drowsy self, he is someone who would show you how much you mean to him rather than say it. which is why you would usually find him being around you quite often, also because he is naturally protective of you. which only then lead to the frustrating feeling of jealousy in the first place when he sees how much others sought after you, especially one certain student. he never said anything about it.

he finds himself practicing and training a lot, a lot more than usual as a way to take his mind off the feeling but nevertheless it only makes him think about it more. it only took until lilia noticed his different behavior and it'd lead to him explaining what he’s feeling to his father. lilia would only laugh at how oh so obvious what he’s experiencing and try to give him some advice (is that advice good? who knows.) but he has silvers best interest at heart.

after that i feel like silver would prompt to trying to be more open to how he feels about you, he’ll try to show more through his actions- as usual but tenfold. he isn't someone to be outright mean, but he does… get a little sharper and he tends to move more in front of you to maintain distance away from one of the students actively pursuing you. it's funny in comparison to how sweet he can be around you his mood turns during the chance he sees that boy.

jade leech

oh boy…. jade and jealously is not something that go well together. you would never really suspect him of harboring any sort of jealousy towards some students trying to go after you, it's just usual jade behavior. you don't exactly know what he's thinking behind his courteous smile. he treats you and the others all the same, though it is a little unnerving. in fact, if you ever came up to him telling him about something sweet a student did for you, he’d smile and be like “how lovely, you already have so many admirers hm?” hes plotting

i just know whenever some guy is trying to get all chatty with you when he is around, they feel so unnerved by him its insane, he is giving the student the look and when you turn back to him it's a complete change with a smile. and jade may not be the most understanding of human-land courting and the way love really works on land, but he can still easily out do like anyone that comes your way. jade has mastered ways to get your attention solely back on him, with sweetly spoken words and compliments hehe.

has a habit of talking poorly or down any students that are interested in you. he has usually a huge amount of dirt of fellow students and he's ready to spill it out subtly in order to have you keep your distance from them.

lowkey i would feel bad for the poor student that kept going after you, even after noticing jade's presence around you. with jade practically infatuated with you, it will make him do anything. he's never been someone that doesn't get what he wants. needless to say, some of these admirers would most likely get themselves roped up into trouble with azul.

deuce spade

deuce is genuinely so upset when he hears you telling him and ace about some love letters from an admirer you've been receiving, like he gives you the worst attempt and a laugh and smile being supportive and happy for you. it's so painfully obvious has literally dying inside. he does have his moments though where he takes it personally when some student tries to flirt with you when he’s around you. he is pretty protective of his friends but especially you— it was funny to see him try to get in the face of that one big savanaclaw guy flirting with you ahhakjsdhs

he wants to desperately one up the others so bad, but he doesn't know how. he definitely has called his mom up at some point to be like “mom what do girls like in guys??” kind of thing. he tries so hard to look cool and amazing in your eyes, but those attempts end up with him making a fool of himself and him nervously laughing it off when he sees you giggling. his face does light up when he sees that, surely, he must be doing something right. despite ace and grim’s teasing he can't wipe the smile off his face when you're happy because of him.

sometimes he does feel a little inferior considering he doesn't feel the brightest or suave in comparison towards some of the attention you may receive. but every fumbling sentence of compliments and such he gives you; he means it so genuinely.

although at other times when he does feel upset because of some admirer he always remembers that he's one of the first people you became friends with since you’ve gotten to nrc, you consider him one of your closest friends in fact! he feels quite proud of that…. for now, he does plan on becoming more than just that.

[jinisnuggets]

Hello can I ask for a Doyoung smut, I haven't been seeing new fics of doyoung these days 🥹 tysm

𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴵᵈᵒˡ! ˢᵘᵇ! ᴰᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ˣ ᴰᵒᵐ! ᶠᵉᵐ! ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: ².¹ᵏ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ˢᵐᵘᵗ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᵀʰⁱᶜᵏ ᵈⁱᶜᵏ ᴰᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ, ᴴᵃʳᵈ ᵈᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ, ᶜᵒᶜᵏ ʷᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ, ᵗᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗⁱᵛᵉ, ˢʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ᴺᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᴰᵒʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ’ˢ ⁶ᵗʰ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ… ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖʳᵉᵈⁱᶜᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ.

ᴬ/ᴺ: ᴴⁱ ᵃⁿᵒⁿ! ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ᵐʸ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᴶᵉᵒⁿᵍʷᵒᵒ ᶠⁱᶜ, ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ... ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ, ⁱˡʸˢᵐ 😭🩷, ˢᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵛⁱʳᵗᵘᵃˡ ʰᵘᵍˢ 🫶

“Hey… it's late, is everything alright?” You called through the phone after not hearing a response for a concerning amount of time, he had called you so you didn't know if it was much of a real call or more of a prank call.

“Hey, the boys are gonna go eat somewhere but I honestly wanna just lay in bed and sleep. The company's too far and I know you live nearby- mind if I spend the night?” you could hear his croaky voice from the other side and you honestly couldn't help but feel pity for him, you didn't see the problem in letting your boyfriend come over in order for him to just immediately lay in bed and knock himself out, it was just one night and you didn't seem to find a problem with it.

“Doyoung - you don't need to ask, just call me and say you're coming over. My house is your house.” You calmly responded, “Ok, ok, my bad, I'll be there in 10” he responded, half chuckling while you heard the familiar beep and then the line went dead.

Part of you was nervous about him coming over to spend the night, but what was one singular night gonna do? Nothing could happen in the span of those 12 hours that he'd be coming and sleeping over. He had practice the next morning, which meant that by breakfast hours at the company, he should already be there and ready for practice.

So you waited until you heard a knock on the door, you slowly walked to the fronts of your apartment and looked outside the peephole. It was the habit you couldn't get rid of as well as the one people always found themselves questioning you for, to which you always responded with.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Once confirming that it was indeed Doyoung, you slipped open the door and allowed him to enter the cozy setting, you greeted him and escorted him to your room.

“Since I live in an apartment- I unfortunately don't have any guest bedrooms, but you can rest in here and I'll be on the couch.”

Doyoung took the little energy he had in order to glance at you and turn his full body to face you, he looked a bit disappointed and a little annoyed.

“Why don't we just sleep together?” He responded. Now you were sure that your cheeks were flushed red judging by the burning sensation you had in them, you cleared your throat and made eye contact with him which was quickly broken by whatever reason you may have made in your head.

“I don't know about that-”

“Why? We're dating and from the looks of it, your bed is big enough to fit 2 people. I don't see a problem with it.”

You turned your head and thought for a moment, although you also didn't really have a problem with sleeping together, your conscience wouldn't really leave you alone if you dared to lay in the same bed as him, especially since in the recent Treasure comebacks he was really putting it off with the visuals.

“I probably won't keep my hands still if we do-”

He completely disregarded your comment, probably because he didn’t hear you or he just didn't pay attention, nevertheless it was one of the two. “It's only one singular night, I think we should be fine-”

Hesitant, you nodded, having already brushed your teeth, you asked him if he had brushed his, to which he simply nodded and fell onto the bed… to which you followed right after.

It had surprisingly worked out at first… both of you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes, and to be honest, you slept like a baby for those couple of hours that your eyes were shut, which felt weird since you hadn't slept like that in ages… maybe it was because Doyoung was next to you.

But you had woken up to the sound of Doyoung groaning, and of course it caught you off guard. Your eyes immediately widened and you saw yourself laying on top of your boyfriend, you figured you had just somehow shifted into that position during your sleep since you definitely did not remember falling asleep like that. Therefore you didn't think much of it, that was until you felt Doyoung's hand grab onto your shoulder and attempt to push you off lightly.

“Y/n… can you stop doing that please…?”

Confused, you looked at your boyfriend as if he was out of his mind, “I'm not doing anything…?” You lightly said, trying not to disturb his still tired side that had yet to woke up completely, and you could only imagine how much more confused he became when his groaning shifted to moaning.

It took you a while to realize that your knee was in a place where it shouldn't have been…

“Crap! I'm sorry!” you said, feeling Doyoung's arms wrap around you as you could feel his slow but repetitive breaths lightly caress your skin.

“Y/n… I'm tired. Let's forget this and go back to bed.” You could hear his shaky yet desperate voice, that same voice that was probably about to fall asleep any moment now. It took you a while to realize that the reason you had probably felt so uncomfortable around him lately was because you were turned on by him in a way, which had you wondering how you hadn't noticed earlier.”

You heard a groan come from his mouth, which left a smirk tracing on your mouth, satisfaction running through his body as his back slowly arched. Your hand had traveled over to his tighted pants and gently squeezed him, making him moan ever so slightly.

His breathing became more regular, becoming a mix of breathing and moaning “Y/n… you shouldn't do this here…”

“What are you so afraid of?” You muttered lightly, not daring to leave out the mocking pitch, knowing he wouldn't be able to do anything about it since it was technically you in full control.

“Y/n- I have practice tomorrow” he whined, but your grip only got tighter. Doyoung’s moan got cut off by your abrupt kiss when you leaned up and connected your lips together, giving him a passionate and wet kiss.

You lifted his shirt to reveal his small and skinny figure along with the small shape of his forming abs, chuckling a bit, you licked his chest in which he lightly groaned and looked at you.

“Doyoung- you really have no idea what you've been doing to me lately.” You muttered, unzipping his zipper and massaging his crotch, using the little fabric that was his only advantage against him… no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he was turned on, and you were the cause of that.

There was no need for permission, your hand was already sliding up and down his bare cock, as his dick grew in your grip.

“You're all out with the teasing today aren't you?” he commented, chuckling at the act along with you. Ignoring him, you brought your free hand onto his stomach and gave him small belly rubs, you felt his hand travel to your back and down to your waist, as he held you in place to prevent you from falling. His eyes were shut as he was beginning to relax at your every move, still letting out small groans at the feeling of your hand sliding on his cock.

And you surely weren't expecting him to have such an impressive girth, you felt he was thick but you didn't expect him to be that thick.

“Y/n… please let me feel you-” he moaned, words barely forming and escaping his mouth. Hearing it for sure drove you crazy, so you nodded and turned around which was the first time you actually managed to get a good look at his dick.

“Doyoung, I hope you know that with this dick you're just gonna make me want you more…”

“If you want me, then claim me.”

The response took you by surprise, sure your boyfriend was flirty with everyone but this was different, and you knew that he had caught onto you and decided to get revenge for all the teasing you yourself was guilty of.

“You think I won't?” You smirked which made his cock grow stiff, he liked it.

“You like it when I tell you things like that?” You muttered softly, he shaked his head, a bit ashamed before ultimately nodding, which only earning a small giggle from you.

The both of you pulled into a wet kiss, tongues intertwining and transferring all your love to each other with that one singular kiss, morning practice was the last thing on his mind now, almost completely forgetting about it. Once the kiss was separated you took the moment to look at your boyfriend, who was making eye contact with you intimately.

“Get on me…”

“Doyoung- you feel good…”

Taking a moment to process his words before smiling, bringing yourself over to him as he slowly removed the shorts which surrounded and highlighted your waist, following his instructions and lining yourself up with him.

Doyoung fluttered a bit and you felt him twitch inside of you, you gave Doyoung a moment and started grinding yourself on him, allowing him to feel all the pleasure as you both shared knowing sounds and moans.

“Y/n… you-”

Unable to finish his sentence, you cut him off by leaning down and kissing his chest, trying your best to limit your moans and allow him to do all the talking, you allowed yourself to suck his nipple and play with his other as you picked up your speed, pressing his on parts onto him.

“You can't get any better at this can you…?” He commented, completely out of breath and with sloppy speech, hearing him being so distraught really did something with your subconscious, enough to make you pick up your speed once more earning a growl from him.

“Fuck Doyoung… you really know how to mess with my feelings don't you?”

“I really don't mean to…”

Feeling his dick once again begin twitching, you brought yourself off of him, having a gut feeling that he was close and which was proven to be correct shortly after.

Small bits of precum leaked out of his dick, which was proving to your theory furthermore.

“Y/n… I'm close… please don't stop.”

“I'm not going to, I wanna show you satisfaction to the fullest.”

He didn't know what you meant, that was until you flicked his crotch allowing him to feel a small moment of both pain and pleasure at the same time, all feelings overtook him as his eyes rolled back and mouth watered at the feeling of his cock being distributed from it's original state and ending up with a small mark.

And that only got worse, as it started with small flicks to full on slaps, you slapped his dick harshly yet still with caution as you knew you there was a higher possibility that you'd hurt him than actually please him.

“Fuck…!” He whined, his whimpers got loud as he attempted to limit his volume, for a moment forgetting you lived in an apartment building with neighbors on all sides of your room. “Y/n! Stop! Please!” he once again whined, which just made you slap him slightly harder.

Tears began forming in his eyes as he felt the feeling of his dick slapping against his stomach and being brought back up to your hand for you to just repeat the cycle, his tears streamed down his cheeks and his mind became overwhelmed with thoughts.

How was the feeling of both pain and pleasure all at once was darn addicting?

His mouth watered, as he picked up the nearest pillow and brought it to his face, all his cum leaked out of him the moment your hand allowed his crotch to breathe.

“Was I too harsh on you?” Pity finding your voice as you saw the mess your boyfriend had done.

You both had been virgins up until that point, and the feeling of something like sex was truly just so overwhelming, the feeling of each other's touch in such an intimate way just really fluttered both of your hearts.

“No… it felt good…”

“Can try cock warming in you…?”

“Of course…” you lightly responded, reading his excited expression, he smiled lightly and brought a himself inside of you once more.

It was truly when you realized that one singular night was truly all it took for something so unimaginable to happen to two individuals.

Just one singular night.

[rat-typewriter]

Hating Weddings | Dabi x Reader

SUMMARY: Just hours before you’re due to marry a man you don’t love, Dabi comes to change your mind; as it turns out, you don't need too much persuasion. WORD COUNT: 2.3k

You sat, staring at your reflection - the stylist nervously tried to meet your eyes in the mirror. She had spent three hours - and quite possibly half the world’s supply of hairpins - drawing your hair into the elegant

“It’s lovely.” You said, attempting to mask the disappointment in your voice - but judging by the way your soon-to-be mother-in-law rolled her eyes and huffed, you were still a bad liar.

Over the year that you had known the woman, the only thing you seemed to have in common was a mutual dislike for one another. You were not the sort of bride she wanted for her son; maybe it was the way you didn’t fall over yourself at the opportunity to spend time with the beyond dull boy - or maybe it was the way that XYZ. Either way, she had really mastered that expression of distaste she wore (which you could only imagine was paired with her envisioning you being run over by a bus). But she tolerated you nevertheless and you did the same for her. Engagements like your own were rarely anything to do with love or feelings or whatever you wanted - they were strictly business.

Quirk marriages were much more common than most people would’ve liked to believe; they paid well too. You’d been found by the guy’s father - an owner of a wealthy demolition company - who knew your quirk would be an invaluable asset to their business. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, but at least money would never be an issue for you again.

“Thank you,” You smiled sympathetically at the stylist, who seemed unable to exhale fully - glancing between you and the other woman with wide, doe eyes.

She seemed to relax a little before your mother-in-law took her by the elbow and pulled her into the doorway - as if standing a few feet away suddenly made you incapable of hearing their hushed voices.

Shutting your eyes, you exhaled slowly - as if, with enough determination, you could expel the tightness in your ribs through your breath. Your legs buzzed with adrenaline that only seemed to worsen as the ceremony drew closer and your head was starting to feel slightly too light for the rest of your body - as though a strong wind would dispel your skull into a wisp of smoke.

Just as you began to half-heartedly wonder if you might be about to vomit: your phone buzzed. The text from an unknown number flashed up on the screen.

Last chance.

Quickly, you swiped the message away - averting your gaze, instead focusing on the colours of nail polish picked out for you. You had no idea that there could be so many shades of white: eggshell, light ivory, pearl, fresh snow, bone china, chiffon, porcelain, dark ivory-

I’ll be outside in twenty-five.

You stared at the text, your legs becoming more restless than ever. You could practically hear his low voice and smug tone in the sans serif. He was so sure of himself; so arrogant. Who did he think he was? Expecting you to follow him wherever he went, well over a year after you’d told him that you were giving up work with the league of villains. Expecting that you’d just abandon everything you’d worked for - to build a new identity and to cover your tracks so you could leave it all behind - just because he goddamn asked.

It was only as your fiancé’s mother reentered the room - meek hairstylist in tow - that you tore your gaze from your phone.

“Don’t do that with your face.” She scoffed and you were suddenly aware of your deep scowl. Despite trying to relax your expression, you still felt the hot redness in your cheeks.

She continued, “Plenty of girls would kill to be where you’re sitting. I don’t see why you have to go and spoil it for everyone else.” She turned back to the stylist and resumed her string of complaints and general dissatisfaction, occasionally jabbing a finger in your direction.

You tried to follow a string of deep breaths - in and out, in and then fucking out - but Dabi’s stupid, snarky voice still rang in your mind.

The pair of you had always argued like your respective lives depended on it. To the untrained eye, strangers would have assumed your relationship to be beyond dysfunctional - but insults and generally winding each other up was just how you both communicated. It ranged anywhere from flirty teasing to pettiness to flat-out screaming matches - but it was never truly malicious. Even after the most seemingly brutal throwdown, you both continued like nothing had happened - with a casual Do you want takeout tonight? or a simple See you later, babe and a peck on the cheek. Somewhere along the way, being at each other's throats became being more-or-less joined at the hip. And as quick as you were to poke fun at one another and compete - you were still (literally) partners in crime and made a killer team.

Leaving him was one of the hardest things you had ever done. But it was a decision you had to make.

Again, the phone buzzed - sliding across the table a little.

Now or never.

You exhaled - biting back a smile - the fucking cheek of this man. You were tempted to text back Now-or-never my ass, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a response. Now or never had become a secret between the two of you: a reference to your first meeting that you’d drop into as many situations and missions with the league as possible. He’d shouted it from the street below, trying to convince you to take the leap out of a fourth storey window after him; you’d whispered it in his ear while pressed up against him, hiding between shipping containers. It was a prayer to your relationship; a promise. All referencing that first chance meeting.

—

You stumbled through the snowy alleyway, still reeling from excitement - and, now that you thought about it, smoke inhalation. You hadn’t burnt something like that in a long time. Probably ever. Sure, as a child you scorched the odd tablecloth and spent your awkward teenage years nervously causing whatever you held in your hands smoke haphazardly - but to truly, completely burn something: that was new. You were fed up with lighting people’s cigarettes and melting their frozen car doors and listening to the frankly endless (and sub-par) swathes of spark-based pick up lines. For once in your goddamn life, you got to burn something.

The night air was freezing; turning your breath to fog in the dark. Despite your blackened clothes and singed hair, the cold numbed your fingers and you were suddenly very aware of your choice to wear flip flops in February. You had only meant to make a quick trip out of your flat to the shop downstairs; had you known that you were going to be making your debut as a record sprinter, you probably would have chosen something a little more robust. Each step through the wintry slush left your feet dripping and even in the dim, yellowy light of the alley, you could see your toes beginning to turn blue.

Hopefully this place wasn’t too far - if it even existed.

You reached a metal door - dented and dimly lit by a flickery yellow light over the frame - and, before you could convince yourself otherwise, knocked. Do you knock at a villain’s hideout? Stepping back from the door, you steadied your breathing - a group of drunken men walked past the opening of the alley, shoving each other and slurring.

Was this even the right place? You rarely found yourself on this side of the city and your melted phone had about the functionality of a deformed paperweight. Conversations with odd people in stairwells or strangers smoking out the back of the kitchen where you worked were all you had to find the league of villains. Conversations with people that you really shouldn’t trust.

The clunk of bolts being undone, followed by the scrape of metal-on-metal pulled you from your thoughts. Hinges groaning, the door swung half-open.

For a moment, it was as though it had opened by itself; breath caught in your throat you stared into the unlit building - but a few feet back from the doorway, the shape of a person shifted. His voice was low and gravely when he spoke.

“Coming in?”

Opening your mouth - vaguely aware of your brain screaming as you sprint back down the alley - you managed a hoarse Uhhh.

Another moment passed, the quiet filled by your soft breath turning to fog. A van rumbled past on the road and you caught yourself glancing back, watching as it rolled by.

“You’re letting the cold in.” He said. “Now or never.”

Oh, fuck it. Turning back to the door you laughed weakly - sounding like something between a cough and a sore throat. “Suppose it better be now then,”

The stranger stepped back and a yellowy strip of light crossed his face, illuminating his features. His skin was littered with scars - you recognised them as burns. Over the years of not being able to control your fire quirk, you had plenty of your own. But beneath them he was young, no older than you.

His eyes crinkled slightly and he grinned - which sent jolts of fear and excitement through your chest again.

“Come on then, sparky.”

—

It was the eleventh time that your phone buzzed - two minutes before the ceremony was to start - that you gave in.

You jumped out of your seat, the bridesmaid (who you barely even knew) and had been fixing your hair stumbled back.

“I- Uh,” you stammered as the other bridesmaids turned to stare at you. “I’m going to the toilet.”

And you took off.

You stumbled out of the door and down the hallway in eight layers of tulle and shoes that were horrendously uncomfortable. You took a left, then a right, then a left again - until you found an open window.

Good enough.

With no further thought, you forced the window as wide as it would go and shimmied through - tumbling out and into a bush.

As you attempted to pull yourself out and untangle your stupidly poofy skirt - which had caught in the branches - you heard a familiar laugh.

“Wow. Bit desperate to leave are we?”

You whipped around, finding yourself face-to-face with Dabi.

“Didn’t think you missed me that much,”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out and your brain was suddenly empty. Butterflies erupted in your stomach - the boy who you hadn’t seen in over a year was still able to make you nervous.

He grinned - oh how you’d missed that - and laughed again. “You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Thanks, I’ve always loved the dragged-backwards-through-a-hedge look.” you said, dryly, before adding. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He stepped forwards - rolling his eyes; offering a hand to pull you out of the bush. “Oh, how you flatter me.”

Accepting the hand, you let him heave you out of the bush - pulling you far closer than necessary. You stood practically against his chest, having to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eyes.

You swallowed and felt your face grow warm.

God, he knew just how to make you feel sixteen all over again.

“I see you still like to leave everything until the last minute.” He said, glancing down at his watch. “I texted you ages ago.”

You scoffed. “An hour at most–”

“–Two hours.”

You glanced at his watch. 10:59. “I’ve still got a minute - there’s still time for me to marry that guy!” You threatened, unable to hide your grin. “Don’t test me!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just curious - with or without the dragged-backwards-through-a-hedge look?”

“I’ll do it.”

You narrowed your eyes, holding his gaze: both locked in a semi-serious staredown. Standing there, his dark hair falling into his eyes; his arm around your waist tightening every-so-slightly, was the person you had thought of every day for the last year. At night, as you stared at the ceiling he had been the one that you wished was by your side. At every fancy dinner and business party; every dress fitting and stupid, stupid charity ball that you had gone to with your husband-to-be - you had wished he was holding your hand.

And now he was here, holding you close. Staring you down like an asshole.

"I've missed you." You blurted out. It came out slightly disjointed and stilted, surprising you both a little. He glances down at your lips.

He smiled - with only a hint of his usual smugness. "I've missed you too, Sweetheart,"

He leant down, quickly kissing you. It wasn't long or passionate or hot. Just a regular, discrete peck on the lips.

But, God, did it make you fall in love all over again.

The sound of a door opening and voices flooding into the street came from around the corner. Dabi took a step back and turned to you with that slightly-terrifying, but oh-so-exhilarating grin.

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He extended his hand to you, faking a courteous bow and in return you grinned and curtseyed. Giggling slightly, you put your hand in his and he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles - winking up at you.

"Touya Todoroki, I never knew you were such a gentleman!"

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you"

For a moment, his tone is so serious that you almost believe him; even more worryingly, you don’t seem to care. But then he smiles and tugs on your hand.

"C'mon, I hate weddings."

"Me too." You giggled.

With your hand in his, you both took off running.

NOTES: This is actually a rewrite of something I wrote last year to try to ease me back into writing! I've missed it sooo much over exams but ngl when i sat down to finally write again the absolute DRIVEL that came out of my head wasn't worthy of seeing the light of day. Please send over any requests you might have!! im desperate for some inspo atm!!

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Home~ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

Summary: Leaving behind everything he knew was hard for Neteyam and then adapting to the ways of the new clan was even harder. He'd push himself, overwork and exhaust himself even, to live upto his family's expectations; never really giving his own wants a second thought. That's why Y/N was the prefect companion for him, someone who kept things in his life balanced, who made sure to let him know that what he wanted was just as important, perhaps even more so, than what everyone else wanted of him.

//slow burn, cute Neytiri and Y/N bonding moment plus Lo'ak being a menace and HEAVY ANGST//

masterlist, Part 3

Part 2

🫧

The previous couple of days seemed to be the most fun Y/N had had in a while. She and her siblings spent almost all their time with the Sully kids, teaching them all that they needed to know to survive out here with the reef people. It was refreshing to have a break from her own lessons of healing and hunting and granted that the forest Na'vi were taking their time with adapting to the new place, it was still enjoyable nevertheless to be around them.

Aonung was still hostile, refusing to give the kids a break for even a slight mistake, with the exception of Tuk. He seemed fond of her, on some occasions treating her just like how he treated his own sisters but he was too proud to admit that he'd grown a soft spot for the little one.

Out of the whole lot, Y/N had to concede that Kiri was the fastest learner. It was impressive really how much of a natural she was. Though Y/N also made a note that Neteyam was the more ardent learner. She'd catch him practicing their sign language by himself when the others played on the beach or he'd work on his diving whilst his sisters picked sea shells. She once even saw him trying to teach his Ikran sign language whilst everyone was enjoying dinner.

"Thank-you" he said aloud as he slowly signed, so that the animal could register the gesture "this means thank-you"

As promised, in between lessons, Neteyam would treat her to some random pieces of information he'd learned from his dad about the sky people. He taught her a few words and phrases, being as patient with her as she was with him. There were times when even Lo'ak butted in, trying to have his two seconds of fame as well.

"Not to brag or anything, but I used to visit the sky-people’s camp like all the time" he flexed, grinning like an idiot who'd just won a prize "Oh teach her how to say 'suck my dick' bro"

"S-suck my-"

"NO!" Neteyam practically jumped. The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble for teaching the chief's daughter vulgar profanities "Lo'ak you skxawng! Go away"

In conclusion, the Sullys were an absolute joy to have around.

"You spend too much time with them" Aonung spoke coldly, pulling his sister out of her train of thought. He merely tolerated those kids out of obligation and because of his status as the chief's son. Beyond that, he didn’t give two fucks about them "even Tsireya isn’t tailing after them outside of lessons"

"Tailing after?" Y/N raised a brow, not to happy with the tone her brother was using "I'm sorry, why is me hanging out with them a problem again?"

"They don’t belong here" he said slowly, as if by doing so she'd grasp what he was saying and agree "ever since their arrival, we've been forced to baby them and teach them things we did effortlessly at the age of ten. You and I both haven’t had a day to ourselves to do our training much less relax"

"Those kids are doing their best" Y/N sighed, unsure why it was always her who had to deal with her brother's whining "you can tell they’re trying their hardest' they really want to learn-"

"Well their best isn’t good enough" He snapped, Y/N rolling her eyes at his outburst "I want them to go back"

"Shut up Aonung, don’t be such an asshole" she huffed, using an english insult that Lo'ak taught her and Neteyam begged never to say.

"What?" Aonung looked at her like she said something in gibberish, which to him was what the entirety of the english language would probably sound like.

"Nothing"

"Whatever, look at this" the boy struck a pose to flex his biceps, looking at his arms proudly. Y/N rolled her eyes at his antics. It was a bit funny how the conversation was abruptly halted just because Aonung wanted to flex his muscles. Brothers.

Not wanting to stick around for him to go back to his previous argument once he'd finished admiring himself, she left him to fond over himself and went to go take a walk somewhere away from the beach at which they were.

"Where you going?" he called out to her, smile dropping

"Away from you" she said over her shoulder, brushing the sand off her thighs.

"Why? I wasn’t done talking"

"Exactly why I'm going"

Not having much to do until later in the day, when she'd teach some weaving with her father, she decided to go help feed the Ikran.

They usually stayed near the far end of the village, occasionally vanishing for a few hours just to fly around. The clan's people brought them baskets of fish and sometimes fruit to keep them well fed and less cranky.

Y/N hummed to herself whilst carrying the basket that held their food. It was kept in a little shack at a distance from the Ikran. She was curious as to why there wasn’t anyone there at the time, this was usually when someone went to go feed them anyway. Not really caring much, she happily skipped toward them, slightly content that she could admire the creatures alone.

Her enthusiasm died down however, when she rounded the corner and saw Neytiri already there with a similar basket of fish beside her.

Y/N’s chirpy humming had the woman turning around, silently eyeing the girl from up to down.

"Hi" she meekly greeted, awkwardly hugging the basked like it was the only source of comfort she had at the moment "I came to feed them"

"Seze doesn’t like being fed" Neytiri flatly said, quickly glancing at the Ikran to her right who was busy digging into the basket. The other bird-like creatures were curled up for a nap, probably already done with their meal.

"Is that yours?" Y/N put down the basket in defeat, a bit disappointed she couldn’t stick around with the foreign animals.

Neytiri paused to study her some more. Y/N was a sweet girl by nature, her daughter Tuk never failed to mention that to her. She was patient and very smart, very proficient too. Despite her timid voice, she presented herself quite well, shoulders rarely ever hunched and chin up. She was curious little thing, that much was very conspicuous about her; always eager to learn or delve into anything new.

"Come" she beckoned for the younger girl who approached without a word, still holding on to the basket "put that down, Seze will only eat if it’s not directly being fed, she hates being babied"

"Sounds like my brother" Y/N mumbled as she did what Neytiri told, earning a brief grin from the woman. She took a step back and watched as the Ikran dived hungrily into the second basket of fish, despite not finishing the first one "eats like him too... don’t tell anyone I said that"

Neytiri's phlegmatic exterior melted away, laughter replacing her somber expression. Y/N was just humorous as she was diligent, an adorable little thing the older woman found her.

"Did you catch the fish yourself?" she asked, tone much more gentle and motherly now, which visibly seemed to put the younger Na'vi at ease.

"N-no" Y/N responded but quickly opened her mouth to futher justify her answer, as if she felt the need to provide an explanation so as to not be underestimated by Neytiri "but I am good at spearfishing, I've caught plenty of fish you know"

"Ah. But I must confess, catching fish with my arrows is much more easier than these spears you use" She told her and watched the girl's face contour into a look of confusion which she quickly masked with a polite smile, just nodding in agreement "you haven’t trained with a bow and arrow?"

Y/N only nodded a 'no'

"Hm," Neytiri hummed "I will see you little while before eclipse near the southern side of the reef, I hope you don’t mind using Lo'ak's bow while you learn"

Y/N's face lit up to a point where Neytiri was expecting for her whole head to just start glowing like the sun any moment.

"You'll teach me?" she excitedly asked, voice a pitch higher than usual "really?"

Neytiri only chuckled adoringly at her ardor to learn and responded by just ruffling her hair.

___

Y/N felt like she had conquered all of Pandora by securing a lesson with Neytiri.

She happily skipped to the beach to find her sister Tsireya and tell her about her day so far. She knew her sister was usually whiling away her time picking shells around this time of day, to use them later to braid into her hair.

What she didn’t expect was to run into her idiot brother and his friends caught up in a rowdy fight with Lo'ak and Neteyam. The boys were like hooligans, kicking, punching and pulling tails. Kiri stood in the distance, heavily judging the fools.

“Guys! Hey!” She made a run for it, wanting to stop this fight before any of the skxawngs managed to seriously hurt someone “Aonung!”

Her brother was too caught up trying to free himself from Lo’ak who was pulling his ear all while being dragged across the sand by his tail.

“That’s enough-“

A loud grunt interrupted her and she looked to the side to see Neteyam gracefully knee one of the other boys right in the balls.

“Stop it NOW!” She bellowed, jumping right into the mess of angry teen boys. Not wanting to accidentally hurt the chief’s daughter, Aonung’s friend’s begrudgingly seized their punching and scooted a few steps back.

“Is this how you want the forest people to know us?” She scolded, ignoring the wincing from her brother “that the Metkayina people are hostile bullies? Really Aonung?”

“That bastard threw the first punch!” One of them hissed at Lo’ak, who reacted by hissing back “maybe you should consider vouching for your people and not favour their asses for a change”

“Watch your mouth” despite being in pain, Aonung limped to toward Y/N, putting himself between her and his friend with the snarky tone “do not speak to my sister that way”

The boy only scoffed in response.

“Aonung” Y/N coldly spoke, though there was an undertone of concern lacing her words. Her brother was really beat up, face bruised, lip bleeding and skin scraped here and there “get outta here, go get patched up”

“He’s right you know” he lowly told her, eyes menacingly glancing toward the Sullys “he did start-“

“Then you should’ve put a stop to it” was all she said, staring up at him until her brother caved in and turned away, muttering a string of profanities under his breath that his mother would indefinitely ground him for.

“And you” Y/N turned to the Sully kids as Aonung and his friends made their exit “I know their teasing can get a lot sometimes but did you really have to hit him?”

“You can’t be serious” Lo’ak looked almost offended, as if he wasn’t expecting her at all to scold him “if it wasn’t for that bitc-“

“Mind what you say Lo’ak, he is my brother. A lot to deal with sometimes but he is still my family- the son of Tonowari” she then turned her attention to Kiri “and you just stood there watching and giggling, I always thought you were the mature one”

“Hey don’t drag her into this” Neteyam stepped forward, shielding his siblings both physically and in spirit “they poked fun at her, maybe save the scolding for the person who actually needs it hm?”

“Do not tell me who I ought to scold at and at who I shouldn’t. You were all at fault here to some extent” she hissed, her sharp fangs briefly making an appearance “is resorting to physical violence something you’re used to over choosing to resolve it with civil conversation?”

“Do not speak to me that way” Neteyam hissed, slowly losing his calm composure. He was well known and well respected in his clan, always treated and spoke to like he was royalty. Not a single person had ever spoken rudely much less snapped at him in such a manner. He was a warrior in training to be a strong leader “I’m to be the next Olo'eyktan-“

“No you were going to be Olo'eyktan, before your father left the forest” Y/N was letting her anger get the best of her, not bothering to think even for a second about the words that were leaving her mouth “now you live here in our clan, as a normal person with no high station. So you make your peace-”

“My father is Toruk Makto, he’s fought and won a war against the sky people” Neteyam’s voice was hauntingly low, a growl escaping in between a few words. The way he spoke, the way his tail arose, he almost looked like an animal waiting to pounce on his prey. He was well aware that he was no longer in line to be the next chief but hearing it from someone else in such circumstances made his blood boil “Your father says the reef people haven’t been at war during his time. Take his title of chief away and what does make you then? A nobody; because while I may never be chief, I will always be the son of the great warrior Toruk Makto and you are a girl that was simply born to someone who was already heir to the Metkayina clan”

There was silence.

Deafening silence.

Lo’ak was the short-tempered one in the family, always quick to say things in the heat of the moment; notorious for showing fits of rage and making impulsive choices but even he had to agree: Neteyam had gone too far.

“Bro” he softly called out to Neteyam, sharing nervous glances with Kiri who was just as stunned by their older brother’s outburst. It was unlike him to lose him temper and just say things without thinking.

As if his little brother’s voice was a force that pulled him back to reality, Neteyam’s eyes went wide with realisation after he’d only just processed what he’d said, knowing well that it was too late already.

“No, Y/N” he poorly began, tail drooping down again in shame “I did not mean to-“

“I’m so glad the Omatikaya do not have to face the shame of having to call you their Olo'eyktan” Y/N’s voice was oddly calm but that’s what seemed to scare them even more. She spun on her heels, keeping her cool “there will be no lessons today. And none from me henceforth”

[uwabbittuwabbit]

Eterna's Iceberg of Race Replays

I keep seeing people asking about how to watch MotoGP race replays in a financially responsible way, so here's my guide on where to find them!

TIER 1: MotoGP YouTube Channel Playlist MotoGP is probably one of the better racing series in that there are race replays readily accessible on their YouTube channel. They also do have some replays on their Facebook if you have the time to do an archaeological excavation, which I forgot to put on the iceberg (for example the 2014 Qatar GP). Since it's on their official accounts, it's at the top.

TIER 2: Motomundo Many a motoheads' trusted source for replays! Motomundo also has various documentaries, as well as practice, qualifying and testing replays. Motomundo also has a VKVideo account that which you can use if you are so inclined. Unfortunately, it has been reported of late that many of the videos have stopped working, with most of the older races not accessible at all. On the second tier since it is widely recommended and an open secret.

TIER 3: BiliBili (1) (2) This one is kind of unusual! Some endeavoring fans have done a great work of philanthropy by uploading entire seasons of MotoGP replays onto BiliBili, which is basically the Chinese equivalent of YouTube...but more. It can be overwhelming (they have a function where users can write comments which then are displayed on the screen while the video plays, for example) and maybe when I have more time, I could write a guide. Another circumstance of these replays being Chinese reuploads is that the commentary is also in Chinese, and there are some really very ugly watermarks from the broadcast itself that cannot be readily edited out. However, the archive is VERY extensive, although it only comprises of races. On the third tier since BiliBili is very popular in China, but more obscure in the West, and I only found this because I am Chinese and already had knowledge of the platform. The first link leads to a collection in which all the races from 1979-2019 have been uploaded. The second is from the same user, however it is just footage of 2020 testing. Unfortunately it seems that their uploads have paused there, at least for now.

TIER 4: This suspicious ass looking website If you've ventured this far down into the iceberg, I'm assuming that suspicious looking websites that have the potential to give you a virus don't phase you. But nevertheless, as a disclaimer, this website is a little hard to navigate. However, not only does it provide MotoGP coverage (in English), it also covers the feeder series as well and includes them in their race weekend compilations. There are options to view the race in varying resolutions, as well as links to various other uploads on Meta (not THAT Meta) and the like. Unfortunately around 2018 are where the uploads become a bit spotty, with many of the videos being unplayable and the links also leading nowhere. A very warranted tier four rating.

TIER 5: ArchivoGP (1) (2) (3) The reason I placed this one so low is not necessarily because it's better than the rest of the sources (in fact, at time of writing this post a good portion of their videos have been taken offline) but because the story in finding it was actually pretty funny. For context, I was on the hunt for a clip of Marc Marquez giving reigning world champion Pecco Bagnaia the thumbs up at the end of Mugello Q2 (thank you tumblr user suzuki-ecstar for replying to me about this...) and none of the sources I was using (so, any of the above already listed) had that clip. I was gnashing and gnawing my teeth in pain. So where else does one go to find something that is presumably lost? Internet Archive! I really thought this was the end of the road and I would have to clip that moment from a shitty vertical YouTube Short or something. Pain. But then I happen upon a full MotoGP replay. It wasn't of the session I wanted, but when I looked into the user a little further, I saw that they had uploaded various other full race replays. In their bio it was stated that they had a Telegram channel under the same name (ArchivoGP), so I did a Google search and found that they indeed did. Happily, their uploads (which are DAZN broadcasts consisting of pre-GP, practice, qualifying, sprint, feature race, post-GP and also cover the feeder classes) DID have that moment and that is the story of how I finished a fancam with the help of Internet Archive, which once again has saved my life. The three different links above lead to their old site, their new(?) one, and their video archive in question which is hosted on TokyVideo. Unfortunately their archive only dates back to 2020, and as I have stated previously some of them have been taken down.

MISCELLANEOUS: (1) (2) These are some assorted Internet Archive sources which I found while trying to backtrack how I found the previous source. I haven't had the time to actually sort through and vet the videos except for one, the original ArchivoGP user uploads (which is the first link, though I'm not entirely sure because they have since changed the name of the channel).

I hope with this masterpost I have saved you guys a lot of time that you (and me, to be honest) do not have. If you want to know where to watch races LIVE, user kingofthering has a very handy dandy masterpost here which you can go check out.

Psst: in general, if you want to very legally watch something, this is a good resource that I recommend. Cheers! ;)

[eldritch-spouse]

Livius slipping into the body of an actress with a catty attitude at a red carpet/awards ceremony, fully intending to cause a scene. He gets obsessed not with the actress but with her stressed out assistant.

She is fretting, readjusting the actress's dress and putting on some last minute adjustments to her look before she's on the carpet, and begging her not to stir any shit up at the event.

I know you and an the other two nominees for best actress don't get along but please be civil ma'am.

TW: Gore; Non-consensual demonic possession.

His plan was simple.

Cause a scandal.

Sometimes he does this kind of thing for fun, other times, he has the pleasure of doing it as a service from a formal agreement. You'd be surprised how many celebrities fish contacts to reach his Ring, to reach Lavineum the Envious. Really, him and Rinx have crossed paths on the surface more than once. Sometimes even Cero is looming by.

People just can't resist a bit of a hellish push to success, can they?

Every week, there's a new pretty face around the corner, some halfwit thinking they're going to make it big, a loser, a pawn, a dolly- People who let it all get to their heads and then, suddenly, one day, making a deal with an unfathomable force seems acceptable.

It just so happened that Livius' current patron is one rival of the gorgeous 32 year old whose body he's currently snug inside, wearing Ms Isabella like a glove. She wasn't particularly hard to get a hold of, most of these movie stars are pretty air-headed. He had her silent and dormant in less than a full minute.

He looks at himself in the mirror, combing over her extravagant dress that's honestly bright enough to kind of bother his sight. The woman's raven locks flow from her shoulders, and he twirls a lock the exact same way she does when in deep though. A practiced smile falls on that screen-friendly face as he switches through a few of her usual expressions.

Piece of cake. She's not very nuanced to Livius, as insulting as it may sound.

When the click of someone entering the room is heard, Livius straightens, then adopts Isabella's usual impatient stance, arm on her left hip, an intense gaze cast to you, the woman assisting this actress. Honestly, he doesn't know how well you get paid, but it can't be enough to justify dealing with Miss "I'm fluent in three languages and so much better than you-" on a regular basis.

" ... Ma'am? " You squint.

" Yes, what is it? " He snaps back the same tone you're probably used to hearing by now. The woman's slight Italian accent flows easily on the tongue.

" I asked you to sit down please, we still need some last minute adjustments. "

Livius glances at you once more before doing as told.

You're very pretty. It's almost odd that he's possessing the celebrity here, yet you have such a sweet little smile and eyes so full of hope that you could easily make it out there in the same areas as the woman you're working under. Maybe that's why she's so rude to you at times. Livius sits in the lush little chair in front of several mirrors and forgets that perhaps he's been staring at you for a little too long, because you shiver eventually.

He needs to be cautious, his gaze isn't like the vacuous glare this woman spares most people, it's something a lot more invasive and whole. When Livius stares, he sees.

Before you can ask if everything is alright, he diverts. " Go on, we don't have all day. "

And the way you jump has him muffling a smile. " Y- Yes, of course! "

As you get closer, the demonlord gets to sense your smell, your perfume rather, but there's a hint beneath that can only be yours alone. He'd be able to gouge it better if not for his host's own disgustingly overpowering, acidic crime of a perfume. Nevertheless, he's much too still while you work, observing every little thing you do. How your fingers twitch, where you lean to, which way your head tends to tilt, the expression you make when you're concentrated.

In fact, he likes that frowning puckered lip look so much that he subconsciously puts it on himself. And you notice, of course.

" Hahah... " You pause, heat rising on your cheeks. " I know, it's silly. You got me. "

Livius is very glad you took it as a joke rather than the amateur slip up it actually was.

When you continue, he schools himself a bit better, forcing himself to relax a little so he's not hyper-focused on studying you. He ponders on the steps he'll take to complete his deal, the most amount of damage he can make to this woman involves flickering through some of her insecurities, her lowest moments and most repugnant thoughts. The core of what makes her human, her disgusting sinuous vein.

Unfortunately, it's more than a little difficult to remain focused with you so close to him. As you shift the woman's luxurious necklace, he feels your small fingers brush against the expanse of her neck, a pleasant tingle up her scalp, the scent of you largely demanding of his attention. You're the type of person he could hold onto forever. It's a shame he's in the middle of a task, because Livius would much rather dwell inside of you at this moment.

This increasingly loud hum begins rocking his chest as the demonlord sways, enjoying the care and sighing while digits adjust earrings. And everything is right in the world, no thought spared to what time and day it is. Until...

The touch vanishes, the extra warmth recedes, Livius is bereft and irritated.

" E- Excuse me, ma'am? "

His eyes snap open.

Livius had been rumbling for a while. Oopsie.

He gets to see your eyes flicker from him, so full of confusion and doubt, to the wide mirror directly behind Isabella. And what you see there makes the color drain from your whole body. Your fear is palpable and thick, like the lump in your throat as you struggle to get in enough air to scream.

Scream like a wild animal, at the top of those itty bitty lungs.

What a wonderful melody. There are other ways he'd like to make you scream, now that he thinks about it. You're just a lot of fun, for some reason.

" Is something wrong? " He mirrors some of your own terror.

All you do is point at the mirror, taking a step back and trying -Failing- To steady your breathing.

He doesn't need to look back to know what's happened. You're seeing him. The actual him.

Instead, said mirror just bursts into a million shards, the force with which it's broken sends pieces flying through the room, your pitiful self cowering and shielding your face as you gasp and sob in shock.

" Oh my... " He starts, knowing damn well that more than a few of those shards have embedded themselves in Isabella's back. She must look like a porcupine, hah.

Livius turns around and pretends to care about the situation, thumbing over the mess he made, watching her bleed just a bit more from the brand new razor-thin blades that cut their way into her digits.

He hears you gasp tremulously somewhere behind him.

Livius allows her visage to distort, senses his sharp grin crawl up cheeks that straighten and elongate to accommodate it, his eyes force her skin to stretch with unpleasant zips of flesh as her eyelids fail to transform in time. He's getting a touch too excited.

" I don't think they'll mind too much, right? " He mocks, Isabella's attractive accent melting into his standard ragged demonic tenor.

The first thing that spins back is her neck, then her body, Livius stretching within the human's physical limits. When her arms and legs elongate, her form expanding into something strained and twisted, Livius sighs in momentary relief.

" Oh God... " You sniffle, legs unsteady, held up only by the opposite wall's support.

" Oh God... " Livius mimics fondly, loving the sound of it.

A click echoes, the room is now locked firmly. You seem to be silently making peace with certain death.

" You know- " The demonlord begins, swatting locks of bothersome curly hair away as he leisurely walks towards you. " In all these years you've worked for me, I realize I haven't gotten to know you all that well. "

You only shake and brokenly gasp when Isabella's bloated, clawed fingers make contact with your shoulder.

" Isn't that a shame? "

Livius chuckles at the small whimper you let out when he pulls your figure closer to his, swaying both of your forms calmly.

" But we still have a bit of time, I reckon. So why not tell me a bit about yourself, hm? "

It's not as if you're leaving the room until you humor him anyway.