#And less horrifying details

[knockknockitsnickels]

It's weirdly funny to me that the cynical princess is the one who nicknames you "hero"

[nomairuins]

ill be like I can totally make a lighthearted post mentioning a kink i have and i wont even freak abt it. and then i freak abt it

[delta-chan]

Those "check out this shoujo thing if you like this shounen/seinen thing uwu" videos or what have you will always be like

"If you like Paranoia Agent, you'll love Twinkle Sparkle! Magic Kiss because the main character is a girl who turns into a different person when she puts on her 'magical lipstick'!" and the art is like this

[moe-broey]

LIKE..

[peapeaprincess]

(waking up from a horrifying nightmare) you know actually, it's pretty humane that the aliens in Prey (2005) made entire towns disappear at the same time.

[misto713]

what if shen yuan had a personality/history that was closer to shen jiu (a ruthless street rat), and the only main difference between them was that sy actually liked the 'protagonist', binghe? i think poor bingbing would have fallen even harder/faster tbh.

-- example --

skinner arc

skinner: "ooh what pretty skin you have, mr. cultivator! i can't wait to wear it! :) :) :)"

sy: (instead of pointing them at binghe) *evil grin* "why don't you come closer to see it in detail then?"

skinner: *approaches*

sy: *rips their throat out with his teeth*

sy: "and this, children, is why you should always remember two things: one, cultivation improves not only your qi, but also your physical strength, and cutting you off from qi doesn't hinder your muscles; and two, just because you don't have qi doesn't mean you're helpless. now. let's get out of here, shall we?"

sy: *grins at the kids with his bloodied teeth*

sy: *dislocates his wrist to slip out of the immortal binding cables*

ning yingying: *horrified but also kinda impressed*

binghe: *has never been more horny in his life*

--

i just think it would make an interesting dynamic, and maybe make it easier for bingbing to accept his demonic side and instincts if he saw that humans can clearly be epic and badass and ruthless and still be capable of kindness. that his demonic instincts don't make him any less of a person.

after all, if shizun can be... like that, and he's a human, then why would it be a problem if binghe was a bit more... attuned to his instincts too?

[ddejavvu]

Hii hope you’re doing well, I was wondering if I could request a criminal minds blurb where reader is Penelope’s best friend and they’ve met for lunch in a cafe near Quantico, and reader is telling Penny about this new guy she hooked up with a few nights ago, reader tells Penny how big the guy was and then a few minutes later Spencer walks in and reader is like “P omg that’s the guy!!” And gestures towards Spencer who’s the only person ordering at the counter? I just feel like Penny would be equal parts both shocked and horrified that her sweet innocent boy Spence has a sex life but also that he’s HUNG?? I literally love you and all your Spencer works and I feel like you’d write this perfectly 🫶🫶

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Penelope is absolutely enraptured by the play-by-play you're murmuring to her over the low din of the cafe's patronage. The whirring and grinding of the machines behind the counter only further aid in your attempt to keep your conversation private, and you can smell sweet strawberries on the bubbly blonde when you lean in to give her details.

"And he reached for his fly- ooh, Penny, the way his arms looked," You gush, remembering the thick veins that had corded his bone while he'd wrestled with his belt, "He whipped his belt out of the way, and- stop!" You urge her when she wriggles her brows at you, "He took his pants off, Penny, and I swear to god I've seen thighs thinner than that dick."

Her resulting squeal is much less hushed than you'd managed to keep the rest of your conversation, and you swat at the arm that's not holding her coffee. She gets the message but resorts to stamping her feet beneath the table instead, a repeated clicking that blends in much better with the mechanical whirring of the baristas' handiwork.

"He was so thick, and Jesus- Penny, he was long, too, just big all around," You recall, insides throbbing with a phantom ache at the memory of what you'd taken last night, "I swear he had me seeing stars," You sigh, glancing down at the pale pink ring of lip gloss around the mouth of your cup, "I'd beg him to come over again tonight, but I think I need a week to recover."

"A week," She breathes dreamily, "I could barely feel the last guy I had."

"Oh, I could feel him," You laugh, "It's like I still can, I'm pretty sure he bruised- oh fuck!"

"What?" Penelope's brow dips instantly, concern etched into her pretty features, "What's wrong?"

"It's him," You grip her hand, nails digging into her skin, "It's the guy from last night!"

"Big dick dude?" She asks, and your frantic nod confirms her theory.

She tries to be subtle, bless her, when she turns to see him, but when the only person that she sees standing in line for a drink is her coworker, her brain chugs along slower than normal.

Where's big dick dude?

Oh, Spencer's here!

I don't see big dick dude.

Spencer is-

You're not sure even the most talented actor could ever recreate the sheer horror swimming in her gaze when she turns to face you again. Her eyes are blown wide and her mouth, lined in a pretty fuchsia paste, is downturned in a grimace.

"Please tell me you're not talking about the skinny mess in the sweater vest."

"That's exactly who I'm talking about!" You gush, trying to avoid his gaze lest he thinks you're trying to follow him around, "Penny, isn't he dreamy?"

"That's- oh my god," She recalls your descriptions, thicker than thighs, longer than you've ever seen, "I have to resign."

[eightstarr]

what's mine — ellie williams.

summary: the day you left for this assignment, ellie remembers thinking it would be okay— or maybe it was you who said it, your hands over her tense shoulders, her fingers tugging at your shirt, “you’ll be okay.” she goes home and knows it to be true, like words from a god. she’ll be okay and you’ll be back. what’s left to do but count the hours?

warnings: descriptions of violence (not very detailed), suggestive content near the end!

notes: uhhh i love being dramatic and i think it shows here. all i think about is the action of coming home to someone who loves you and how it is as meaningful now as it was a thousand years ago and as it will be in a hundred years but whatever haha sorry about that guys. if you read this i love you btw

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୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

Being without Ellie is disorienting. The first week feels like walking alone in a dark room, feeling the walls for a light switch, running into sharp corners that stab your sides. You miss her like it's a sickness, less a longing and more a threat to whatever you’re made of.

There's a small community way outside of Jackson offering a trade. Maria makes it sound simple, like everything else. “They know us, it’ll be quick. You pick up the supplies, drop off our part of the deal, and come back.”

It takes 26 days. The exchange is simple but the journey less so, you and three others have to carry home the much needed medical supplies through herds of infected and a heavy storm that slows you down and cuts off your communication for three terrifying nights.

Ellie wanders the house and feels like a stranger, sickly, a sleepless corpse searching for living blood. The light coming through the windows feels too bright and her skin abnormally cold. She knows, or thinks, that if she’s not careful she could get lost in it— merge every wall together until there’s nothing left to see but a stark flatness, an unfamiliar box. The space is not huge. It's not a tall castle or a manor in the countryside or anything fitting to the theatricality of loneliness, but it’s your home. So much of you is in it. Ellie finds herself focusing on a different thing each passing day, clinging to them with a nauseating desperation, a hundred random pieces of you scattered like breadcrumbs to keep her sane. A book with a folded corner somewhere along the first half of the story, your favorite mug next to the sink, an old pair of jeans ripped at the knee on your side of the drawer. Too many things for you not to come back.

“Do you think I'm losing my mind?” she asks, a soft wrinkle between her furrowed brows, her eyes focused on a random spot ahead. “I mean, it’s been two weeks,” she’s trying to sound like it's not as bad as it looks, like she finds any of it funny or interesting instead of plainly horrifying. The sole of her shoes hits the floor in an anxious rhythm, mocking her— tap, tap, tap, tap. “Isn’t that fucked up?”

Dina curses at the lighter until it flickers back to life with a weak orange flame, holding it near the end of the half finished blunt. She inhales and passes it over, breathing out, “You’re not crazy.”

A pause. Ellie lets the comment comfort her for a single second before it flies right through her head, sounding more quiet than usual when she admits, “...I have this feeling like someone took something from me.”

Dina raises her eyebrows, her chuckle cut off by a short cough, smoke itching her throat. “You mean, like… what’s her name?” she squints her eyes and tries to remember. 

The name worms around Ellie’s head like it has been for days, bold letters, clear as day. She makes no attempt to let it pass through her lips, self aware and unrelenting at the same time, maybe finding some indefensible satisfaction in the fact that it can be forgotten. Cruel, you'd tease, and Ellie would smirk a lot like she tries not to now.

Dina gives up a second later, “Whatever— the girl that volunteered to go with them before you could. You're blaming her?”

“I guess.”

“Hm. That’s a little…”

“Don’t say crazy—”

“Crazy.”

“Fuck you,” she rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“So you’re not jealous?”

Ellie scoffs, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek. Dina argues unlike anyone else. She’s confident, her goal clear and her strategy already lined up before you get a word in, loaded like a gun. But her strongest contender, perhaps the only one, might be Ellie’s simple stubbornness. “I’m concerned. She got picked over me even though I've studied that route a hundred fucking times. I could've done a better job,” she says, steady and tireless like bulletproof glass.

“At getting the supplies or at taking care of your girlfriend?”

“You’re starting to sound like Maria.”

Dina pauses for a short moment before she shrugs. “Maria makes good points.”

Ellie takes one last hit of the blunt and flicks it across the room to die out somewhere on the permanently damp floor. She tries to believe it. No one took you, she thinks, you left dutifully like anyone else in Jackson would've, like Ellie would've. It’s a dangerous trip but a job like any other, the same risk of deadly infection that comes with any of them. She should be used to it by now. Does it not also exist every other day of the year?

Still, she can't remember the last time she didn't see your face for this long. You’ve been dating for a little over three years, living together for half of that— it's a terrifyingly meaningful chunk of your young lives, months and months of seeing you everyday, of falling asleep with her face on the crook of your neck and waking up with your fingers pressing into her waist. You've built a world where things like this don’t happen, where all Ellie can think about as she leaves home is the way you hum in the mornings, soft and sleepy and so fucking cute, when you wake up to her back against your chest and her hair on your face. She thinks about her own laugh, how shy it sounds, how your lips press to her head before she turns around to claim a proper kiss.

But now you’re not here, and she’s too terrified to even utter the words out loud, and there's a hole in her chest where you should be that makes her feel insane everywhere she goes. It's an open wound leaving a hazardous trail of shame and memories, humming in her ears like a boiling kettle, who took what's mine?

Ellie has never considered herself to be the jealous type, but she never was the type to sleep with her back turned to someone this comfortably, either. It’s different with you. It's theatricality, it’s the coldness of that bed at night, it’s your legs tangled with hers like growing roots now disjointed. It’s a thing, breathing and alive, screaming at nothing— I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Is that girl you went with hanging from your every word in that way she always does? Is that a shameful thought to have? Ellie wipes it clean in a second and finds it immediately there again, at the front of her mind like a message on a cloudy mirror. She can't think about anything else. Is the storm keeping the two of you awake? Does a part of you find the girl brave for volunteering? Is she turning to look at you and asking, just loud enough, are you asleep? That fall earlier was rough, how are you feeling? Is she looking at your wounds like they matter more than doing a good job? Is your blood, warm and red and yours, on her hands now?

The last of the smoke spills past her lips in a sigh. Ellie pulls her knees closer to her chest and tugs at the loose thread on your ripped jeans.

—

There’s a comfortable weight that keeps you under, the loving press of her arm resting over your chest, her thumb brushing your chin. The sun feels warm where it’s draped across Ellie’s back, white tank top wrinkled slightly up her waist.

She watches you until you let out a little sigh, squint one eye open and then slowly the next, a smile stretching your lips as soon as your sight focuses on her. She looks beautiful. She looks just like she did before you left, your girl.

It’s weird— you’ve showered, scrubbed your hands clean and raw, changed clothes. And still you feel like you’ve brought in something dirty, like it’ll be stuck on you for a while, the grime, the guns, the storm. Your muddy shoes must still be sitting by the front door. Something in your head screams that you should get rid of them, burn them like an evidence of guilt. Do you look anything like you did before you left? You feel like a worn version of yourself, sticky and darkened. It’s a ridiculous worry to have, but the thought comes hand in hand with embarrassment and you can feel it crawling up your neck. You cover your face with your hands and groan tiredly, shy.

Ellie laughs, warm like musk, salve on a wound.

"Are you watching me sleep?" you mutter, voice ridden with exhaustion and joy all at once. The thing, love, obsession, both— breathes along with you. "Freak."

"Yeah, I was,” she shifts to sit on your lap, one knee on either side of you, spilling her confession easily. Ellie leans over to push your hands away from your face and press her lips to yours, passionate but short lived, still softly brushing against each other when she says, "I missed this face."

You chuckle, eyes tracing over her freckled cheeks, hands squeezing her thighs, feeling strangely like you’re being washed clean. “I missed you.”

Ellie closes her eyes and rests her forehead against yours, her fingers caressing your cheeks, looking at you again when her thumb brushes against the ridge of a scar. It’s a warped line that almost follows the shape of your cheekbone, from your hairline to somewhere near the corner of your lips. She'd seen it last night, nauseous with worry and relief to have you back, her vision clouded. The morning reveals it in a different, heartbreaking light. It’s okay, you’d said during the night, your hands on either side of her face much like hers are on you now, didn't even need stitches. Ellie tries to let that sink in, make the guilt feel any better. But it can't. Maybe you’d been saved the prick of a needle, but she knows it still hurt, she knows it bled and stung. It feels like a betrayal. If I can't save you the pain, she thinks, I owe you the witnessing, the chance to clean its wry edges, pat it dry. "How'd you get this one?" she asks, as softly as she can.

You’d been prepared for the question but not the devastation in her eyes. It falls over you like a ton of bricks, her love making your chest ache and sinking you back into the memory.

There was an empty house, or what looked like one. Pieces of broken glass scattered over the rotting wood of an old, wobbly table. A man's hand placed forcefully on your head. The side of your face rammed into the table with a thud when he pushed you down, the faint pain of something slicing into your cheek made worse by your struggle to get free. A kick and he stumbled back. A slice of your knife and he fell dead. You don't think the fact will do much to comfort Ellie. So, in hopes of sparing her, you hum and shake your head. "Come here," you say, or beg, a hand on the back of her neck like fond guidance. "Let me kiss your pretty face."

She feels soft like satin on your lips, tastes like honey and black tea. Ellie kisses like she argues, experienced and unruly all at once, with a point to make— I need you and I want you to know it. Her tongue slips past your parted lips and brings a muffled sound from your throat that almost makes her pull slightly away, if it weren't for the feeling of your fingers tightening on her neck to have her closer. A faint thought crosses Ellie’s mind, a feeling like pity for the person she was before you, whoever that was, an old self who couldn't know what it's like to be devoured so caringly.

She brushes her nose against yours and you let out a sigh that sounds painfully like a prayer, her short hair a dark veil over your eyes when she turns her head to press kisses on your cheek. "You can't leave me like that again," she breathes out.

You swallow her words, a confused wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Ellie—”

A kiss cuts you off. You slide your hands up her thighs to her waist, a surprised hum vibrating against her lips when she wraps her fingers around your wrists and squeezes, as if to keep them there. She leans back and stares into you, and for the first time since you’ve known Ellie, you can't tell if she's commanding you or begging. “I won’t let you.”

It’s a gesture. It goes beyond the reality of your lives, the fact that any day either one of you could be made to leave again, that any day either one of you could die. It means I missed you. It means I need it to be me who looks after you. It means I love you.

Your stomach flutters, hungry with an urgent craving. And like you have every day since you’ve known Ellie, you find yourself unable to deny her love or the indulging promise of a different world— but maybe those mean the same thing. "I'm not leaving you," you say, breathless, and it might as well be true.

Ellie makes a sound in response that feels painfully close to a moan, a soft mmhm that clouds your head of anything that may or may not exist outside of this room. The tip of her nose brushes against your neck and then continues its way down, her fingers sneaking inside your shirt, pulling up the fabric and pressing kisses over the skin that’s revealed. "I love you," she says, almost near the band of your underwear, her blushed lips parted. You feel her breath against the burning fire in your lower stomach, reaching out to cradle her cheek against your hand. She feels hot, flushed pink under her freckles, and you’re not sure if she hears you say I love you, Ellie as much as she watches you mouth the words. She presses her face further into your hand, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, begging as if she’d ever have to, “Baby, I need— please.”

You don't hear yourself say yes, but the look in her eyes says you must have.

[ellecdc]

Mother, i had a request but i forgot what it was 😭😭 i was sooo excited tooo 😫

But in trying to remember i had another brilliant idea!!

Reader x Reggie where theyre both stoic, slightly volatile 🐍 but theyre actually really soft and mushy. And then SURPRISE!! Theyre actually also dating Remus who takes care of them and is super protective. Maybe its revealed near the full moon and possessive Moony makes an appearance.

Siri is flabberghasted; Barty is horrified his darling sweethearts are be defiled; James is shook; and Lily is yhe ultimate bro and super proud of Rem.

Anyway, im sorry your computer was so mean to you. I hope you're looking after yourself 🩵🩵

......this is going to go down in history as my most controversial post........😈 may I present to you.....poly!MoonWater 😈😈😈😈😈

poly!moonwater x fem stoic!reader (i.e., Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x reader)

Sirius Black was admittedly currently going through a hard time.

Now, depending on who you asked, one (literally everyone and anyone) might say it was his own fault.

But if you asked Sirius Black? It was everyone else and their insufferable happiness that was to blame.

His insufferable best-friend-that-anyone-could-ever-ask-for finally landed the woman of his dreams and said woman of previously mentioned best friend was horribly in love with the sod.

Even his baby brother was happy! Which seemed like an oxymoron because in looking at Regulus Arcturus Black, one would assume that boy had never known a single moment of happiness in his life.

If one took into account their childhoods, they’d be right.

But Regulus Black, who was quiet in a way that made you feel like you were always being judged and ridiculed (you were) who very rarely had a kind thing to say about anyone had found happiness (read: a girl) who, for all intents and purposes, could be his personality doppelganger.

One difference, however, was that you were quiet in a way that always had one feeling like you knew too much, saw too much, and you were far too perceptive for anyone’s good. You always seemed to be analyzing the people around you and Sirius, sue him, found that incredibly disconcerting. 

He did not wish to be known, thank you very much. 

And even Moony! Moony, the bastard, was seeing someone! Fucked if Sirius knew who though because the sod wouldn't tell anyone who they were. He just kept popping back to the dorm room covered in hickies and looking far too pleased with himself whilst offering no details.

He was even spending entire nights away from the dorm, and always made sure he had the sodding map with him so they couldn’t even see where he was.

So yeah, Sirius was pissed.

And before you ask – no, it’s not because he was lonely – in fact, he had frequent visitors in his bed thank you very much.  And NO, he didn’t want to discuss the fact that perhaps if he didn’t run at the first sign of commitment or emotional intimacy, he too would have happiness. 

Perhaps he just wanted everyone else to be slightly less happy for his own sake.

Did no one ever think about Sirius Black?

Give right now for example. He and Regulus had been...hanging out (if that’s what you could call the two of them sitting together not speaking as they each did their own homework) since Sirius insisted it was important to do so, especially since Sirius no longer lived at home meaning that their usual means of brotherly bonding (read: trauma) no longer took place. 

And then James showed up (he was so lucky Sirius loved him) who was but of course accompanied by Lily Evans (she was so lucky she’s as lovely as she is) which turned into a small James Potter roast on account of Regulus and Lily both having years’ worth of material from hating him up until recently, and Sirius had loads of material on account of him being a certified hater. 

And then Moony showed up, and if Sirius didn’t know any better, he had definitely been fooling around mere moments ago.

But Sirius did know better.

“Moony, what broom closet did you just crawl out of and where’s the poor soul that was stuck in there with you?” He spat.

Remus merely chuckled and pulled a book out of his bag, making himself comfortable in one of the library’s grandfather chairs. “No one was stuck anywhere with me.”

“No, I’m sure they were a very willing participant.” Regulus drawled, looking particularly bored for all intents and purposes, never bothering to lift his gaze from his book.

“No need to be jealous, baby Black. You’re more than welcome to join me in such broom closets.” Remus joked with a wink.

“Oi!” Sirius swatted at Remus on behalf of his brother (he’s welcome). “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, and he’s taken thank you very much.”

“Merlin knows how,” James muttered none too quietly, “it’s not like he’s very approachable.”

Regulus lifted a lazy eyebrow as he looked at James from above the pages of his book. “I’ll have you know I’m very approachable to those I wish to be approached by.”

“Hi Reggie!” 

“Get fucked.” Regulus called back to Barty Crouch Junior, hardly sparing his best friend a glance as he approached him from behind. 

“Wow, Reggie’s in a good mood today, huh?” Barty said as he sat on one arm of Regulus’ chair, causing James to laugh until he realized that Barty wasn’t joking.

Suddenly another body showed up and gently sat on the other arm of Regulus’ chair.

Sirius watched as Regulus’ impassive face completely cleared of all contempt and he looked up at you with pure and unadulterated adoration.

It made Sirius sick. 

“Bonjour, mon cheri.” He murmured softly, in complete contrast to the harsh, militarized way he had previously been spitting at everyone else. 

You smiled gently at the boy as you pulled a notebook out of your book bag and produced a small, pressed flower, handing it to Regulus between your thumb and forefinger.

Regulus looked at it like you had just presented him with a hundred-year-old bottle of fire-whiskey.

“Did you pick this for me?” He asked gently, plucking the flower from your fingers with matching delicacy.

You offered him a quiet ‘mhm’ and Sirius noticed a shy smile grace your lips. Regulus’ eyes moved from the flower to your face, and he gazed at you like you had hung the moon.

“Merci, mon amour.” He said reverently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Lily looked at the two of you with a smile one might see on the face of a proud mother, James looked at the two of you like he was seeing a bowtruckle for the first time, and Remus looked oddly taken with the show of affection. Barty was apparently the only other sane one amongst them – oh gods, maybe Sirius really was losing it.

“Where the fuck has this Regulus been the last six years?” Barty muttered incredulously. 

Without much effort on your part, you reached over Regulus’ shoulder and shoved Barty off the arm of the chair and onto the floor before sliding to sit directly in Regulus’ lap.

“You...alright, Crouch?” James called tentatively from his place on the other side of the couple. 

“Oh, I’m fine. That’s just how she shows her love.” Barty said as he bounced back up, completely unperturbed. 

“Is it now?” Sirius asked, tone dripping with sarcasm. Remus swatted Sirius’ leg with his book.

“What?” Sirius squawked.

“Be nice.” He chided.

“I am nice! And why do you care?” Sirius argued, though he never got an answer. 

“I think they’re cute.” Lily announced, sending a sly smirk towards Remus.

“See? Lily gets it.” Remus said with a shrug as he went back to his book.

Sirius hated every single one of them.

But if Sirius thought that had been rough, he had no idea what was in store for him today. 

Sirius, Remus, Peter, James and... Lily had all been sitting at the Gryffindor table during dinner when Sirius noticed you rushing into the Great Hall looking rather frazzled.

“Whoa, what’s going on with Y/N?” Peter asked, apparently having noticed you at the same time as Sirius.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Remus’ head snapped towards the entrance, seemingly on high alert upon hearing of your arrival.

Sirius watched as you scanned the Hall before your eyes fell on their group. Your face crumpled in misery, and you rushed over. You were usually so polished and poised, any and all emotions locked away behind a well-fitted mask, no wonder you and Regulus got along so well.

Regulus...something must have happened to Regulus. Sirius had a dreadful feeling settle in the pit of his stomach; what could have happened to make you rush up to him looking that alarmed?

Except...you breezed right past him.

“What’s wrong, lovebug?” Remus cooed quietly, causing Sirius to choke on his own spit.

“He was hurt during practice.” You cried quietly, voice no more than a whisper as you moved to step between Remus’ spread legs where he had rotated on the bench to face you. His hands landed on the back of your thighs were his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your tight clad legs.

“Okay. How hurt?” Remus asked just as quietly, ignoring the sputtering happening from James, the chuckling from Lily, and the horrified expression painting Sirius’ face.

“Dislocated shoulder.” You cried miserably, as if you’d just been told Regulus was damned to spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

Remus’s mouth looked like it was fighting really hard to smile as his eyes pooled with equal parts fondness, worry (for you or Regulus, Sirius wasn’t sure at this moment), and no shortage of love.

What the fuck was going on right now!? 

“What the fuck is going on right now!?” Sirius demanded, his outside voice echoing the one inside of his head.

You startled a little at his exclamation, leaning closer into Remus who increased his embrace around you. 

“What’s happening dear padfoot, is it appears your brother has been injured during quidditch practice. Perhaps you ought to go see how he is?” Remus taunted as he continued running soothing hands over your body.

“Yeah, yeah; the sky is blue, and people get hurt in quidditch. Now what is this!?” He screeched gesturing wildly at the two of you. 

You looked equal parts embarrassed from the attention and equal parts wanting to tell Sirius off for downplaying what you clearly thought was some great upheaval in Regulus’ life when Lily spoke up.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice, Pads.”

His mouth dropped open as he turned to regard his best friend’s girlfriend with a look of pure betrayal.

“Et tu, Lily!?” Sirius cried as James sputtered, “you knew!?”

Remus just smiled as he shoved his nose into your collarbone. You brought up a hand to begin scratching at his scalp, and Sirius was certain the sods leg would be thumping in contentment if he were a dog.

“Let’s go, Sirius.” Remus finally muttered, interrupting an argument that was going nowhere between James, Lily, and Sirius. “You’ve got a brother in the hospital wing.”

You hurried on ahead of them, clearly not interested in the talk the two friends were about to have.

“So, are you fucking my brother too or just fucking him over by screwing his girl?” Sirius finally spat with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest. 

Remus groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength to get through this conversation with Sirius Drama Queen Black. “Sirius, can you ask me a question that’s less likely to get me punched in the face?”

“No.” Sirius muttered. 

“He’s happy, Sirius. I promise.” Remus pressed. “He...he really deserves all the love he’s getting.”

And Sirius would have been an absolute arse if he’d had anything to say in response to that...

Don’t get him wrong, Sirius was an arse and did have many things to say in response to that, but the words died on the tip of his tongue when they walked into the hospital wing to see you sitting on the end of Regulus’ hospital bed.

Regulus, save the sling holding his arm to his chest and the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed, looked as casual as Sirius ever remembered seeing him, smiling at you with...

Love.

A lot of love. 

“I’m fine, amour, I promise.” They heard him plead with you as they approached.

“Still have all your limbs, I see.” Remus commented as he walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to Regulus’ hair, causing the youngest Black to blush something fierce as he looked over at Sirius. 

“I’m sure she told you I was comatose.” He commented quietly, turning and offering you a wink.

“Don’t tease me...” You moaned, looking very much like you still wanted to fold Regulus up and put him in your pocket for safe keeping.

“Yeah, don’t tease her, love. You’d be sitting in this hospital bed all on your lonesome with no one you dote on you otherwise.” Remus jokingly chided. 

“Love.” Sirius groaned with a dramatized gag. 

“Oh, grow up, Siri.” Regulus barked.

Sirius’ head snapped over to his brother at the sound of his childhood nickname. Regulus’ cheeks were still dusted pink, whether it be at the unplanned outing of his relationship, being hurt, or the gravity of this moment.

Regulus hadn’t called him that since they were children...like, real children before the trauma, the alienation, the disinheritance, the running away...

Perhaps because Regulus had spent all of that time living in unmeasurable pain. Just like Sirius had.

And maybe, now...Regulus had people who made him feel brave enough to be vulnerable like this, to reconnect in ways he long thought impossible. 

Fuck Moony and his good naturedness; Sirius hated that Remus was right about this. 

“Oh, fucking Godric.” Sirius muttered petulantly as he pulled Regulus into a bone crushing hug.

Literally.

“Sirius!” Regulus groaned before Sirius was ripped away from his brother. Sirius expected Remus to be the one throwing him to the floor for inadvertently hurting Regulus’ injury...but it was you. 

“You idiot.” You hissed as new tears formed in your eyes, immediately moving to grab the ice pack from the bedside table and gently placing it on Regulus’ shoulder.

Remus and Regulus looked at you with so much adoration, Sirius was certain hearts were going to start pouring out of their eyes and floating around their heads.

“I’m fine, thanks!” He called out as he hauled himself up off the floor. 

“Oh good.” You said sarcastically.

“I don’t like this.” Sirius grumbled, causing all three faces to turn to him.

“Pads...”

“Sirius, please.” Regulus implored.  

“What if you break his heart?” He asked no one in particular. “What if you hurt my baby brother? Who am I supposed to support then? Or you; what am I supposed to do if you hurt my best friend? And what if you tossers hurt Y/N!”

The three of you shared a look before his brother turned to him. “Sirius, if we breakup, I give you permission to side with Remus.”

“And if we break up, I promise you can side with Y/N.” Remus added.

“Nope.” You said quickly, “that’s fine, I don’t need to be included in this.”

Sirius groaned out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank gods. Okay, okay. I guess I'll allow it then....”

“THE THREE OF YOU ARE WHAT!?” Barty screeched as he stood at the door of the infirmary, still in his quidditch kit.

“Do we actually have to have this conversation again?” You groaned quietly.

Remus shot Regulus and extremely guilty look as he slowly stood.

“Remus.” Regulus warned.

Remus grimaced and slowly made his way over to you.

“Remus John Lupin, I swear to Salazar...”

“Regulus, I love you; I do. But...he’s you’re friend an- NOW DOVE” He shouted, and the two of you took off in a sprint out of the infirmary. 

“Quite the catch you’ve got yourself there Regs.” Sirius taunted. 

“Sod off.” Regulus muttered as Barty made his way over to his bedside.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius jeered as he, too, took off out of the infirmary, leaving Regulus Black to deal with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior on his own.  

don't hate me

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello 👋 can I get a little body switcheru with twist dorm liders and Yuu? Even better if we'd have F!Yuu in this one ❤️!

I don't think I'll be doing all the dorm leaders right now but just a few 🖤🖤🖤

Body Switch | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

What a gift! To see precisely what your obsession sees, to touch with their perfect hand, to hear their lovely voice whenever they opened their mouth. Oh, the possibilities are endless! No matter the circumstance this is the stuff of dreams nightmares:

Vil Schoenheit

“OH SEVENS!”

Is at first horrified at the feeling of not being in his perfectly preened body

In his clean and not dingy home

But it diminishes when he realizes the one screaming in the dirty mirror is you

His precious love

“Ergh these black heads are insane. My potato has been neglecting their routine. That’ll be good to make a note of.”

He immediately gets to work

He has to make the next 24 hours in his dearest’s body count 

and he’s got so much to do and such little time

Immediately he inspects your home and makes a note of everything that’s lacking in Ramshackle

Perfect ammunition for his proposal to move to Pomefiore

Next he reads your diary or journal if you have one

And he dives into your photos and makes a mental note to send more headshots to you

Next he goes to Rook

“We have less than 12 hours before I return, get your camera.”

Already planned and prepared the photos are perfection

Next he takes your measurements 

Both for clothes and for ropes and fluffy cuffs

He debates deleting your friends from your contacts

But he’s not petty he is he’ll just send a text or two with passive aggressive undertones

And when he’s got close to an hour 

He takes the time to…examine your every inch …careful to not leave a mess behind

“So…soft and round…they will look glorious in couture.”

Idia Shroud

“Eeek! It worked!”

Spends nearly an hour squealing and jumping around

But then he goes to the mirror and starts his fantasy 

Using your lips to confess an undying love to Idia Shroud 

He records it and everything 

Next he goes to his room, already set up to allow a very specific code

He goes to his dorm

Everything is going perfectly to plan

Next he plans to dress you in the cosplay he already has your measurements for

“Yes! Now I just have to take this o-o-off! Ack! T-their s-skin! No! I can’t e-e-even if I’ve s-seen it through the camra it is so different!”

He genuinely can’t make it past your shirt

Too embarrassed and caught up in simply seeing all your skin

So instead he’ll move onto the next objective

Going to the pick up spot he’d already designated

Riding calmly as your taken to some unknown artificial island 

“Hehehe well at least one objective was completed…let’s just say that other one isn’t one of my skill levels just yet. Hehehe I’ll have more than enough time to level up though!”

Malleus Draconia

Someone or you must have said that little expression

“Try walking in my shoes! Its really inconvenient when you scare everyone away from me!”

“In your shoes?”

So he tries it 

Having your body become his own, allowing a day without his, in your words: overpowered bod

Oh is he warm

So warm he feels like your constantly hugging him 

Its immaculate

Than he spends a good while just admiring you in the mirror 

More than happy to study every pore of your skin in great detail

“Oh I did not realize their birth mark was this adorable.”

But he’ll soon find your legs ache so easily

Why can’t he stand straight for seven hours without your knees getting wobbly

Or how defenseless you are 

With nothing but his tiny wisps if his own magic to sense 

Its kind of horrifying 

But as agreed he tries to go throughout the day as you 

Enjoying the attention of all your friends

Granted they send weird looks when he says something odd

But you’ve already employed Grim as ‘his wingman’

Who frantically tries to get him through the day

He learns so much ‘by being in your shoes’ 

“I do not appreciate everyone having such careless interactions with you, especially when the amount of muscle let alone magic is…concerning.”

[662607015]

i've been too busy to post about it lately but the current situation surrounding disability rights in the uk is horrifying in a way that most people have zero awareness of. i would appreciate it if more people could spread awareness of this, because the situation is dire to the point that the united nations have officially recognised it as a human rights violation, and there is still little to no discussion about this present online that i'm aware of.

on march 22 this year, the united nations published a follow-up report - found here - on its 2016 inquiry into the human rights of disabled people in the uk. the original inquiry found "grave and systemic violations" of the human rights of disabled people, and the follow-up concludes that no significant progress has been made concerning the situation. the report details "deep poverty" becoming increasingly common for disabled people; media rhetoric "aimed at raising hostility against welfare claimants, including disabled people"; increasing rates of institutionalisation of disabled people; concern about ai tools being used to automate fraud detection in social security with little oversight; and reports of "benefit deaths": the phenomenon of disabled people resorting to suicide after having their social security removed by the state, which has evidently become so common that they have a name for it.

on april 19, just 28 days after the un's official condemnation, the uk government published a new press release announcing a "moral mission" to "reform" our disability welfare system - meaning plans to even further reduce or entirely remove what little finanical support is available to disabled people, in addition to removing the ability of gps to issue sick notes and the introduction of a "fraud bill" which would enable warrants for seizes, searches and arrests in addition to increased digital surveillance of any welfare claimant suspected of fraud. again, this comes less than a month after the un announced that the uk has taken no action to address human rights abuses of disabled people - and the only action they're taking on this is to actively make the situation worse. i don't know how to end this post other than that it's legitimately terrifying to be a disabled person here at present, and this is made even worse by how little media attention the situation is getting - if you're able to speak out about this, please do. the human rights of disabled people are being violated and our government needs to be held accountable.

[lana-llama-in-pajamas]

Milkman (Francis mosses) x fem! Reader

Thick as blood

Sweet as milk

Ah yes, you. The new doorman. The DDD hired you for your attention to detail and ability to examine more than just physical detail but the way people talked, their actions even the movement in their eyes.

Dopples are horrible at those details, some are just straight stupid and don’t try

But today was your first day in the building fresh from training, the building didn’t have a doorman before so you were ready for confrontation and confusion

Your uniforms was meant to look friendly, with a DDD button the the left breast. the DDD issued you with a pistol in case a Dopple did get in.

The block has been notified and given everything they needed to get in. Now it was your job to make sure they were safe

The day went slow no one coming in till lunch, you were not given one but you were allowed to eat whenever suited you

Soon tho a very happy woman came by…she had heterochromia at first you assumed dopple before looking at her papers

Right Nacha Mikaelys . Everything checked out as you studied her taking notes in your head, she smiled seemingly unaware of what was happening “how’s your day so far?” She asked looking through her purse, possibly for her keys “going well, I’m y/n your new doorman” you replied passing back her papers “have a good day ma’am” she nodded taking them back “pleased to meet you y/n see you tomorrow “ Nacha waved and walked out of sight

You got up from your chair to walk around your small office, you fix up your uniform as you hear someone come up to your glass panel. It was a milkman..? you raised your eyebrows at him. He didn’t look quite surprised to see you. He slid his papers into the slot and waited. You grabbed the papers and looked up and down at them. You then looked up at him and studied his features while trying to talk to him. “Hi I’m y/n the new doorman pleased to meet you, Mr. Moses.”

“Mm…pleased to meet you y/n”

Oh god. You blushed! What a schoolgirl

You slid the papers to him quickly looking down “all is in order, good day sir” you almost stuttered before looking back up at his dark tired eyes “good.” He walked off not noticing your sudden change in tone.

Oh god he sounded like a night time soap, deep and soft. you could listen to him read a chapter book and hang on every word, a phone book would sound sexy! And his eyes! Ugh you would kiss them if possible! You let your blush stay as you fell head over heels for a man that spoke 6 words to you (I counted) another person stood before you, before you could even greet them you stopped in your tracks

It wasn’t human. Its face was a drawing taped to it. No mouth but it spoke “allow me in please”

You softly pressed the urgency button as you slid out your gun. You could hear the dopple screech and writhe behind the glass and metal shutter while you called your superiors “I have one” you spoke sternly not wanting to show any fear “on the way” the triple D officer spoke. You stood back pistol in hand breathing slowly to calm down soon though the screeching stopped and the metal shutter lifted revealing a man in a yellow suit “dopple eliminated. Good work” he walked away with 2 others carrying a body bag.

You shivered placing the weapon back in its place you were glad most of those things were dumb but it made it no less horrifying

Your mind raced as you thought about the two things that just happened to you almost simultaneously first having a girl crush on a milkman and now almost getting killed by a stupid Dopple

Your immediate thought, as you sat down and tried to organize to calm your mind was, how does a milkman live in a building with such high earners ? How much does a milkman make ?��you pondered looking over the files of residents

After introducing yourself to a couple of other residents, the day ends, and it’s time for your shift to end as well.

One Dopple the rest human honestly the best you could hope for on a first day, the other thing you could look forward to is that because you do work in this building, you can live in the building for way less rent than everybody else, you picked up your items from the desk and made sure everything was clean before you left and lock the door behind you no one was allowed to leave or enter the building after 10 PM unless of course it was an emergency, but they would be escorted by DDD officer at the front of the building 

You took the elevator to your apartment “F05” the old landlord room, it used to be boarded up but the DDD had it refurbished for you, still looked a little dingy but ultra cheap rent for a 2 room apartment was worth it

You opened the door but jumped a little hearing another door “oh” you heard the deep voice looking to your left, Francis in a white wife beater and a cardigan. He has a cigarette in his fingers unlit “oh sorry you startled me goodnight Mr.mosses” you tried to excuse yourself quickly but to your surprise he spoke up “I didn’t know you lived here, actually I didn’t know there was a 5th apartment” he finally lit his cigarette taking a long drag (it’s the 50s) you nodded hoping to clear his confusion “ it was boarded up in the early 40s, it’s called a lord suite. a place for the landlord to stay in case of quick repairs or whatever else may happen” he listened rather intently taking the cig out of his mouth, god did you want him to ask you to take a puff just to indicate something “oh…I remember those really fell out of fashion huh?” He asked passing the half done cancer stick. You screamed in your head agreeing with him and taking in the smoke “well enjoy, I need to sleep” he walked back to his apartment almost slamming the door, was he mad? He didn’t indicate anger or distrust, you finished the cigarette and smudged it out on your stove placing the butt on the counter almost contemplating about saving it… you were weirding yourself out a bit but came back to.

You did as all necessary and got ready for bed

You dreamt of Francis sitting on the roof with you holding you close both of you in your uniforms as you kissed him deep and hungry begging for more in your movements you felt him move down to bite softly at your ne- TRRRIING TRRING

your alarm clock yelled at you a few more times before you could slam your hand down on it groaning and streaching “god I am down bad”

End pt 1

I know but the game is set in like 1955 America but it gives me such Soviet vibes 

[sunflowerwizard]

I've seen enough people mischaracterizing Early Access Wyll, so here's the best breakdown of his original character I can give.

I'll start this off by plainly summarizing Wyll's EA backstory, some of his core personality traits, then do a bit of analysis.

BACKSTORY

EA Wyll mentions being "born and bred in the upper city" into nobility. It's unspecified what exact level of influence his family occupied.

In datamined voice lines from EA (take with a grain of salt) Wyll refers to being from House Eltan specifically. Eltan was the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate in the first Baldur's Gate Game, and the founder of the Flaming Fist. Forgotten Realms lore states that the Eltans are no longer in charge of the Fist and have somewhat diminished in power, but again. We don't know to exactly what level.

This also means that this iteration of Wyll was not Ulder Ravengard's son. While he still spoke about his father in EA, the descriptions and characterizations do not line up with Ulder at all. Additionally, he comments about "knowing of" Ravengard during the burning inn sequence, but otherwise makes no connection.

The most damning evidence of all that Wyll being a Ravengard was not originally intended, is Wyll wanting to be like his father and thus "going thieving in the wrong shadows".

Wyll gets caught stealing, presumably as a teenager, and his father uses latent connections within the Flaming Fist to get Wyll sent there. Effectively the fantasy equivalent of sending your unruly kid to boot camp.

Wyll mentions that he didn't adjust well to life as part of the Flaming Fist, was not a very good fighter, and was generally not well liked. The goblin at the windmill calling Wyll "Captain Failure" implies he might have been given higher status despite not earning it.

The way Wyll feels about goblins is a big change between EA and full release, and is explained as part of his backstory.

We didn't get the finer details, but we can assume Wyll in his time with the Fist bore witness to a group of goblins razing a village. Horrified and enraged, he tried fighting a goblin, was overwhelmed, and had his eye torn out.

This is when Mizora showed up and offered him a pact. Considering he was left for dead and probably going to bleed out, it's pretty understandable why he took the deal.

Mizora is not nearly as present in Early Access as she is in the current game. Karlach was not involved in Wyll's story at all, there's no devil transformation.

It's also more heavily insinuated there's a sexually coercive element of Wyll and Mizora's relationship, with him speaking to how every time he wanted to leave her, she found some way to pull him back.

Additionally, Wyll wants out of that contract. Unlike full release where Mizora is randomly captured in Act 2, she starts off kidnapped, and insists she'll let Wyll go if he frees her

It kind of ended up being a plot cul de sac, but Torturer Spike was the goblin that took Wyll's eye--which was a quest item you could pickpocket/loot off his body. Wyll had commentary on it and everything.

TL;DR: -Born to a noble family with Flaming Fist connections -Caught Stealing and sent to work for the Fist as punishment -Tried to fight back during a goblin attack and was gravely injured -Mizora offers a pact -Uses his pact to become a traveling monster hunter, presumably to make up for his past failure to protect people. Antagonistic towards goblins in particular -Ultimately wants out of the pact, but Mizora won't let him go -Wyll and Mizora get abducted by Mind Flayers -Mizora agrees to let Wyll go if he frees her from the cultists

PERSONALITY

This is a bit less concrete than changed story beats, but I can say this: a lot of Wyll's core traits stayed intact between EA and full release. He's still willing to put his life on the line for the Tiefling refugees, with a whole cut line about how the kids he's training deserve to have a carefree childhood. He wants to do good in the world, probably because he spent so much time in his youth feeling like a fuck up.

There's also a much clearer divide between "Wyll" and "The Blade of Frontiers". Notably, in EA he didn't introduce himself by name. Not even a "my friends call me Wyll" quip at Shadowheart like he has currently. During his old romance scene, he has a line about being used to being the hero, and not used to needing one. He's a symbol. An emblem of something bigger than himself. The fact he's so self-aggrandizing as The Blade makes it apparent he's not confident in himself as "just Wyll"

He's also decidedly more forward and flirty in EA, with no reservations about courtship. In fact, the main obstacle to your budding relationship is Mizora herself. Wyll's trauma from her treatment interrupts your first night together. Whether you have sex or just snuggle, Wyll has a line about how he doesn't want to start a relationship until he can "give himself completely" after being freed from his pact.

THOUGHTS & COMPARISONS

I'm also not entirely sure if I'd say EA Wyll is substantially angrier than current Wyll, so much as he had more opportunities to be angry during Early Access. I can understand why the goblin stuff was cut, because it did dip into "Let's make the one black guy fantasy racist" trope. However, it did very much feel like the narrative was pointing in bright, flashing colors that this is a trait Wyll would have to grapple with, learn, and grow from. The fact EA Wyll's most glaring character flaw was scrapped and didn't get much of a replacement in full release makes his story feel less realized.

While I appreciate the overtly sexual element of Wyll and Mizora's relationship was removed, I feel like the final version is somehow even more creepy. During Early Access she existed in the background as a vague villain you only experience via Wyll. And if you do his romance scene and see the way he panics at the mere memory of her, you get the impression of oh shit. This broad is bad news and I've gotta get my boy out of there. The same principle behind not showing the big scary monster too early in the horror movie. Once you've seen it, you can't let your mind fill in the blanks. Mizora went from this intimidating figure whose motives you couldn't fully ascertain, to a mean girl that thinks she's smarter than everyone else but is really just the bumbling lackey of a bigger fish. Who pulls Wyll around with an actual metaphysical leash like a dog. And you're meant to find this sexy.

My final point, and I've said this before: current Wyll's personality seemed more suited to being a scion of house Eltan, while EA Wyll seemed more suited to being Ulder Ravengard's dissapointment son. Current Wyll speaks and carries him like someone raised in nobility despite only being elevated to such status as a teenager. Perhaps this is cynical and maybe even a bit of a conspiracy theory, but I genuinely think he's only Ravengard's son to save on time and assets. Why give Wyll a whole unique family with its own story when we can just tie him in to the "rescue the grand duke" plot, regardless of how much sense it makes!

[bandgie]

The Sin of Flesh | Armageddon Event

Request: Forbidden Fruit | Hwang Hyunjin by anon song!

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, hyunjin has scars on his back, church is abusive, oral (f!rec), fingering (light), crying (m!), succumbs!reader x prophet!hyunjin, some comfort

a/n: im really nervous posting this idk why...anywho enjoy!

2.5k words

A heart of gold. A soul free of sin. Maintaining his purity in every aspect has been a challenge for Hyunjin, but it has all been for something greater than him.

The temple has claimed him as Chosen: a prophet, a foreseer. So long as Hyunjin keeps his pureness alive, his third eye will remain open.

Truthfully, there’s been slip-ups. There were times when he couldn’t think with anything other than the head in his pants. Punishments were the only way to get rid of his sins. His back bears the marks of such endorsements. Hyunjin has since sworn to devote himself to their God, to the power of the priest and priestess.

But having such a strong ardor only wakes the creatures in hell.

Slipping into holy ground is difficult for a demon like you. The Earth would usually burn your feet and though you have wings, they’re much too small for anything other than decor. You’ve been planning on taking the Chosen since he was picked. It didn’t take long to find a priest who was willing to invite you on the ground and into his bed.

It’s the reason why you’re able to tread freely, keeping your eyes on Hyunjin’s room.

You can practically see his life force glowing from the window above. It intimidates you, anything holy would, but you press forward.

The stones on the wall stick out enough for you to climb. It only takes a few scrapes and nicks before you find yourself peering into the room of your prey. Alone, in the dark, and asleep.

Wait, no, not asleep. You can see the dim candle creating just enough light to see his back. What looks like an easel sits before him with strokes of color on the canvas that Hyunjin creates. 

His wakefulness will make things more…difficult. There’s no way he wouldn’t be able to hear you crack the window open or tiptoe your way in. But you’re already here. You’ve already told yourself Hyunjin is your meal. 

You’d be damned if you stopped now. 

The window is already unlocked and it takes little effort to push it open. Though the hinges don’t squeak, it’s the floorboards beneath that give away your presence.

Hyunjin turns, flushed. You think the blush on his face is from surprise, but one look down at his crotch says otherwise.

He’s got a hand under his robe, a small stain that darkens the satin fabric. 

Hyunjin fumbles immediately. A cup of water mixed with paint spill on the marble floor. His paintbrush falls from the hand that isn’t attached to his cock. With wide eyes, he stutters, “Y-you! You’re not supposed to be here!”

You can’t help but smile. Words begin to form on your tongue, but you can’t help but notice the painting. Being fully in Hyunjin’s quarters gives you a better view of his art and you’re somewhat shocked to see that these brush strokes are much more than mere streaks.

It’s a man embracing a woman from the back. His hand grabs her throat as they sit on their knees, her breasts exposed to the world. 

Or to Hyunjin, specifically.

“Oh my.” You stalk forward. The painting grows with more detail with every step. The peak of her nipples to the slit of her cunt. “You seem to have quite the talent, oh holy Chosen One.”

Hyunjin blushes further. The tips of his ears burn red and he can do nothing but ignore the elephant in the room. “You can’t be here.”

“So you’ve said. But I suppose you can draw such treacherous art here, right?” You glance down. “With a hand in your robe, no less.”

Though Hyunjiin’s expression is nothing short of horrified, you’re quite cheerful. “Oh don’t look like that. I quite like it.”

“Of course you would. You’re a devil spawn.”

To that, you have nothing to say. Instead, you study the canvas.

Hyunjin could banish you. He could chant a few prayers that would have you crawling back to hell, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even stop you from inspecting his art as if waiting for your feedback.

It’s the outline of the cunt that catches your attention. He’s got the basics down - a little clit and lips that look more like a mouth than anything else.

Not bad, but it could use some work.

“This,” you point to it. “You’re missing some things.”

Hyunjin follows your fingers, going as far as to slightly bend his neck to lower himself.

His eyes flick to you then back to his painting. He’s too nervous to say anything. Speaking to a succubus like you is bad news, but if you’re giving him pointers…

“There’s a little hood on this part. And it looks more like if a mouth turned into a flower.” You keep explaining, and to your utter surprise, Hyunjin listens. His eyebrows pinch together in thought and suddenly, the little wings on your back and the thin tail attached to your tailbone are an afterthought. 

You put your hands on your hips, facing him. “Have you never seen a cunt up close, Hyunjin?”

He’s so close to you now that he’s bending to your level. His face is still blushing, his lips even more red than his cheeks. Hyunjin’s slender eyes widen at your question, pretty pupils expanding in the warmth of his brown eyes.

His beauty alone should be a sin.

“I-I…I don’t have to answer you.” But his voice shakes. His full, bottom lip trembles at both the sight of you and your words. Humans tend to wear their emotions in their eyes - the windows to their soul as you’ve learned - but this man seems to have his heart on his sleeve as well. 

The look of fear though. You don’t think it’s from you being a demon. “I’m not gonna tell.”

“Y-You’re not?” He blinks.

“I’m not. I just wanted to give you some…suggestions. That is if you don’t mind.”

Dangerous curiosity sparks in Hyunjin’s soft eyes. They flick back to you and the canvas like he's weighing your offer in his head. “I…I don’t know.”

Ah, he just needs a little bit more convincing. You don’t say anything as you turn away from him, walking to the massive white bedstead. Sheer curtains hang from the side and you use the back of your hand to brush it aside to sit on his bed.

Your legs part just slightly, the mound of your tight underwear barely hiding your cunt.

“I could show you right here. Give you a good look.” His eyes lock on your pussy covered by the layer. Hyunjin gulps, fingers clenching and unclenching with uncertainty.

“Come on,” you purr. “It’ll be our secret.”

Hyunjin can hear the reprimands of the priests. He can feel the healed lashes on his back sting, but he walks forward anyway. Each step has those drowning out in his ears. It’s your eyes that call to him, low and welcoming. The smell of your cunt as he gets on his knees soothes the burning of his scars.

You do the honors of pulling the top of your underwear so it stretches over your pussy. The shape of your lips is prominent this way, giving Hyunjin just a glimpse of what’s underneath. “You never answered my question, Hyunjin. Have you ever been this close to a cunt?”

Yes and no. Hyunjin has felt how it is to embrace a woman. Feel how their walls spasm and leak on his cock. Not many, but enough for him to understand the mechanics of everything. He convinced himself that it wasn’t him sinning, but something he couldn’t quite get under control. As long as it was his dick getting acquainted with the warmth of a woman, it didn’t count.

Explaining this is much harder out loud, so Hyunjin simply says, “Not like this.”

But you’ll take that as an answer. “Mm. Now you can. Wanna take them off for me?” You tug on your panties for effect, catching your clit in just the right way. Hyunjin sees your legs twitch and if he was thinking of saying no, that changes his mind immediately.

He nods, slipping his shaky fingers on the sides of your underwear to slide them down your plush thighs.

It’s hardly surprising to see your arousal cling to your underwear. Not necessarily because you’re horny, but that’s just how it is being a succubus. The male counterpart won’t have to do much in order to get you prepped, helping in getting his energy force quicker. 

Hyunjin doesn’t know this fact, so seeing those strings, wet and creamy, makes his jaw drop.

He continues sliding your underwear down until it hangs off one of your ankles. You can’t help but smile at his wide eyes. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, saliva making it shine.

Having his mouth so close to your cunt makes you involuntarily tense. Hyunjin seems to notice your restlessness because he gently places his hand just below your pelvis. His hand is warm, fingers long enough to reach down and play with your clit, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Hyunjin pulls the skin upwards, causing your pussy to stretch. Your flesh peeks through your folds, pink and throbbing.

You bite the inside of your cheeks, spreading your legs more so he can see everything you have to give. It’s the sight of your clit, however, that catches attention. You swear you can see drool pooling from the corner of his mouth.

“You can touch it if you want.” Your words break his trance, his blown pupils looking at yours. “I don’t bite.”

He fights with himself. You can see the inner turmoil wreaking havoc in his mind. It doesn’t take long, however, before he chooses what’s already in front of him. 

Hyunjin’s lips are warm against yours. His bottom lip drags upwards to meet his top one, getting your arousal to smear just slightly. When he kisses again, it’s straight to your clit.

A hum vibrates in your chest. You carry your weight with one hand flat on the bed while the other cups Hyunjin’s cheek. He slightly jumps at first, as if not used to being treated tenderly.

It’s a whole array of emotions in his eyes: hunger, need, uncertainty, contentment, and everything in between. You coo at him, “It’s okay, Hyunjin. You can keep eating.”

Hyunjin is used to false promises. Women would swear to keep their mouths shut about sleeping with him, but it soon would get out that a lucky gal was able to have the Chosen One in their bed. A great boast that led to Hyunjin’s unorthodox punishments.

But with you, demon and all, he feels safe. Something about the raw look in your eyes and how you smile so endearingly makes him want to trust again.

So he leans into your touch, tilting his head so that he can get a good angle with his tongue. 

Hyunjin swipes down, momentarily flicking against your entrance before bringing up the arousal. The back of his tongue swipes over your clit and you arch into his mouth.

“Ah! It feels so good when you lick me there.”

He didn’t know, but he had a feeling. Especially when he places it between his lips and sucks, he knows that the trembling of your legs is from pleasure.

Every second he would spend responding is wasted by not being in your cunt, so Hyunjin chooses to nod. It's little grunts and groans that escape him from your taste. You can’t imagine when was the last time Hyunjin had pussy with how he presses against you eagerly, but you’re glad he was starved for some time.

Strong hands grip the underside of your thighs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed. With control over your lower body, Hyunjin can bury himself as deeply as he wants. His nose touches your bud while his tongue explores your entrance.

You moan, letting your hand wander past his face, through his hair, and underneath his robe. You mean to scratch and grip his back, but when you feel ridges, you stop.

Even Hyunjun slows his tongue. It stills inside of you, waiting to see what you’ll do, what’ll say. 

With care a demon shouldn’t have, you run the pads of your fingers along the scar. It’s tissue being opened and healed repeatedly, leaving a prominent lash on his skin he’ll have to bear for life.

You pout, looking at Hyunjin who now looks at you full of…something you can’t quite place your finger on. Worry, maybe. But not if you’ll hurt him, but how you feel about it.

“They did this to you?” You don’t need to say who. For praising love and acceptance, the church has a hypocritical way of doing the exact opposite. And because Hyunjin still doesn’t want to part with your taste, he only nods mournfully.

You smooth over his scars. “You didn’t deserve that.” And for better or worse, you mean it. Hyunjin’s only sin is love - for flesh and acceptance. You can see it when he gazes at you. You can feel it when his tongue pulls out to lap over your clit momentarily.

You pull your hand from his robe, putting it back onto his cheek for condolence. “Stay with me, Hyunjin. I’ll accept all of you. No more loneliness, no more cruelty. Just you and me.”

Pretty tears well in his eyes. It might feel strange for others to know that the man between your legs is on the verge of crying, but with you, it feels right.

As though all is meant to be.

Finally, he pulls from your cunt. “You will?”

“I will.” You rub over his smooth cheek. “I can take you away from all this.”

It’s almost too good to be true. Sure, he has many perks of being favored by his God, but he didn’t ask for it. He didn’t ask to be the Chosen One, constantly watched and judged for every move he makes.

He wants an escape. You may have appeared as a demon, but he knows you're his angel with their halo disguised as the devil’s horns.

A small tear falls down his pretty face. “Thank you.”  A kiss to your cunt. Then another one. He soon repeats words of gratitude with praiseful pecks.

Thank you, thank you.

This could easily be chalked up as a lie. A big fib just to make this prophet fall to sin, and although that’s your ultimate goal, you find yourself wanting to keep your promises.

He’s so sweet when he sucks on your clit, his tears mingling with your arousal. You can only comfort him with the warmth between your legs and dragging your fingers through his hair. Not that Hyunjin would want anything more than that. This place is where he’s always belonged.

And when he has your essence dripping down his chin, fingers confidently beginning to replace his tongue, you know you’ll keep him safe. With you.

[kick-a-long]

Jewish Columbia students were chased out of dorms, spat on, and pinned against walls: damning report

By Matthew Sedacca

Published Aug. 31, 2024, 3:44 p.m. ET

Jewish students at Columbia University were chased out of their dorms, received death threats, spat upon, stalked and pinned against walls, as the Ivy League school devolved into a cesspool of antisemitic hate in the wake of Hamas’ Oct. 7 murderous raid on Israel.

The new and disturbing details emerged from the lengthy, 91-page document released Friday by the school’s faculty-led antisemitism task force, which revealed the extent to which the hate permeated the institution.

“Students described being shoved, pushed to the ground, berated for showing support for Zionist causes, and watching Israeli flags burned,” the task force’s authors wrote.

Jewish and Israeli students at Columbia University endured a months-long nightmare of harassment, violent threats and assaults after Oct. 7.

Getty Images

“They recounted seeing drawings of swastikas in their dorms, students yelling pro-Hamas chants, and being denied access to public spaces and opportunities simply because they were Jewish or Israeli.”

Testimony from nearly five hundred Columbia students informed the report, which found visibly observant Jews had been pinned to the wall and had their jewelry ripped off while coming and going from synagogue. Others recounted being spat on and having been called ethnic slurs on campus.

One student, who had installed a mezuzah on her dorm’s doorway prior to the Israel-Hamas war, was forced to move out after people were pounding her door throughout the night beginning in October, demanding she explain the Jewish state’s war in Gaza.

“If I walk on campus right now with my star out or kippah or say ‘am Yisrael chai,’ I could start World War III,” one anonymous student’s testimony read.

Instructors tasked with guiding and mentoring students instead contributed to the sense of isolation and unease among Jews and Israelis on campus, according to the report.

Students recalled being pushed to the ground and watching Israeli flags being burned.

One faculty member leading a class that delved into the Israel-Hamas conflict called a student who previously served in the IDF a murderer. Another professor extensively said a pair of Jewish donors to the university had “laundered” “dirty money” and “blood money.”

During the spring, as protests and encampments roiled the school’s Morningside Heights campus, protesters, including outsiders and members of the university community, bellowed death threats at Jewish students. Demonstrators who held Israeli flags, meanwhile, recalled being assaulted.

“There is a sense of personal threat, and we keep looking over our shoulders,” master’s student Omer Lubaton Granot, an Israeli veteran and father of a toddler, told an Israeli radio station in the wake of protesters seizing the academic building Hamilton Hall in April.

Councilman Eric Dinowitz (D-Bronx) described the students’ testimonies as “horrifying — and not surprising.”

“These are stories we’ve been hearing about, as the report says, even before the encampments,” he told The Post, adding that antisemitism had been on the rise at college campuses even before Oct. 7

“Without any sort of consequence [for students and faculty] this sort of behavior will continue

The task force offered several recommendations to address the issues detailed in the voluminous report, including improved anti-bias training for students and staff along with a new system for reporting complaints about antisemitism.

The report was issued just days before Columbia’s fall semester begins and less then three weeks after embattled university president Minouhce Shafik suddenly resigned, citing the “period of turmoil” that marred her brief tenure at the school.

Interim President Katrina Armstrong called the disturbing incidents “completely unacceptable” before rattling off new initiatives at the university aligning with the panel’s recommendations.

“This is an opportunity to acknowledge the harm that has been done and to pledge to make the changes necessary to do better and to rededicate ourselves, as university leaders, as individuals, and as a community, to our core mission of teaching and research,” she said

[starryluminary]

♪ Jane Doe - Alicia Keys

The EX Files finally!! The episode where Cody and Noah face the consequences of their actions (the consequences they frankly don't deserve)

I hope this is coherent. I had to add and change some things last second to tie it together and I reeeeally hope I managed to have it read well

Notes about this episode under the cut! (There’s extra detail I couldn’t fit in the doodles and needed context for future episodes, so skimming them is recommended!)

* (It’d be funny if Noah had a black eye this episode from Sierra’s backhand.)

* It starts off with Sierra crying and Courtney and Heather making Cody comfort her, which he does reluctantly.

* Cody's not entirely sure what to say to try and calm her down, but she retorts with “Whatever… it’s not like you're in love with him.”

* Sierra looks back at him… and he’s frozen. He doesn’t know how to respond.

* Sierra can take a guess, though. “…No you aren't.” She harshly grabs him by the arms and yells at him, desperately, “NO YOU AREN'T!!”

* Heather grabs Sierra and Courtney grabs Cody to separate them. Cody promptly runs away and Sierra promptly gets yelled at by Heather (not because she cares, but because Cody being injured would make him a liability.)

* On Team Chris’s side, Alejandro, Owen, Duncan and Tyler are huddled discussing the incident. Owen tries his best to be on Noah's side, defending him, but Alejandro twists the story to paint Noah as the one in the wrong. Owen doesn’t want to admit he’s making sense. Duncan is completely against Noah, backing up Alejandro. Tyler however doesn’t participate until Noah gets fed up of the not-so whispering and storms out of first class.

* Cast regroups for the challenge rules and Noah joins Cody's side, quipping something I can’t remember. Cody quips back. Sierra pushes Noah to the ground in response, pretending to be in on the joke.

* The “Courtney throwing challenges” bit is replaced by Tyler watching/paying extremely close attention to Noah to determine if Noah’s situation is sympathetic or immoral. Noah gets more mad the longer the episode goes on cause Tyler isn’t exactly subtle.

* Cody finds the cloning pod and makes Alien Cody like in canon. [I’m making him a bit more curious and a bit less initially threatening, like he has Cody’s thoughts and opinions and feelings.] Alien Cody approaches the real Cody slowly, and Sierra finds them. She’s shocked at first: “Two Codys?” Then she starts wondering, and asks the Alien Cody a question. “Do… you love me?” Alien Cody sticks its tongue out at her and scurries away.

* Once Sierra and Cody are alone together, Sierra tells him she’ll forgive him. Cody is confused. Sierra explains. “Obviously Noah got into your soft, easily manipulated mind, and that was wrong of him!” She grabs Cody’s face. “But don’t worry.” She leans in and puckers her lips. Cody looks at her horrified. “I can fix it.”

* Before Noah and Cody find each other, Noah finds Alien Cody. He thinks it’s the real one at first, approaching it casually. He then notices the messy hair, green tinted skin and the eyes (which I’m making entirely black cause these are pencil drawings with no color) and becomes more cautious towards it. “You’re not Cody. What… are you?” ET finger touch.

* Duncan sees this from afar and yells at Noah: “Are you *seriously* messing with Cody right now?!” Noah tries to respond: “I’m not! This isn’t-“ Alien Cody interrupts him with a growl directed at Duncan. He charges towards him with malicious intent and Duncan punches him, making him explode into goop. Noah does not falter. “Way to kill our winning ticket, idiot.” Duncan does not hesitate. “I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you.”

~ *[Events of the comic]* ~

* Team Amazon makes it back to Chris with an artifact first and win the challenge. Cody looks back at Noah (whose team was only slightly behind his own) sympathetically. Noah looks back with understanding. I want to say Sierra’s slightly too loud and exited about NOT the Amazons winning, but of team Chris losing. Tyler (who’s paying way too much attention now) notices and comes to a conclusion.

* Owen gets voted off this episode for being dead weight, and he and Noah hug before he jumps. Owen tells Noah to “win for him” and Noah replies that he makes no promises… but he’ll try.

Sorry that’s. Like a lot. The story kinda got away from me