#HIS FUCKING BEAUTY MARK IS SUBLIME

[chiyoso]

okay if theres suddenly a surge of hsr masterlists

yes, im fixing it

haah—look at the Arbiter General go.... ima write abt him soon enough ffs

[mrsoftthoughts]

Nico di Angelo headcanons

- He was very confused the firts time that someone called him "Emo"

he doesn't have a clue of what the fuck is that, he just bought up the clothes and accessories that he looks at and thinks "cool"

It was a karen who say that btw, the fact that she only was saying nonsense prob was guilty of Nico confusion too

- both Acts of service and Gifs are his way to show affection to others

He often helps his close friends and Hazel with anything they need, he also would get whatever thing that they expressed to want or need even in the slightest way possible, it doesn't matter if it's expensive af or hard to obtain for any reason, he's getting that thing for later wrap it in pretty paper .

He also buys whatever that he sees and reminds him to someone he loves, New rome postal service is tired of getting packages of the pluto ambassador for the praetor Levesque atleats 3 times at week ( that's not all the things that he gets for hazel, it's just the ones that he doesn't give her face to face)

- He's a polyglot ( i kinda talk about it here)

It was a part of his education back in the 1930s so he doesn't remember a lot of how he learned most of the languages he spokes, or even remembers that he actually spoke that especific language until he is in a situation were is needed

Something funny it's that one of the languages he taked longer to realize that he spoke it, it was greek, like, modern greek, he doesn't know how to feel about that

He also has a inherent understanding of dead languages so he's really good at read ol text of any kind

He also it's kinda a nerd about etymology

- He has a lot of beauty marks

Like, a lot of them, the most noticeable ones ofc are the in his face ( one at the bottom/side of his left eye and above the right eyebrow and two at the left side of his nose and bottom of his lips) but those things are everywhere in his body

- A lot of people feels that his appearance seems out of place, like, something ood to look at without an apparent reason

The things starts to make sense when you put his hair back with a bit of gel and give him a suit, then you realize that he looks like one of those pictures of grandpas when they were young

It can be a bit eerily because, in fact , he is actually from the same generation of those grandpas, that's why he looks like them but due the Lotus he's a teenager instead of an old man

the fact that his appearance it's the definition of a haunting beauty contributes to all that, he's beautiful, there's no a sigle appice of doubt about that, but you can compare the feeling that he evokes to the feeling of looking at a gothic church or the one of being at one of those old and Rich graveyards full of angel's scultures but cover in moss after years of abandonment , beautiful and stunning but also imponent and bone freezing

But hey!! It's also cool, and you can say that he's the antitesis of an iphone face

- Kinda related to the previous one, but his eyes are always changing colours.

It's not like piper tough, her eyes are literally a multicolor spectrum, Meanwhile, Nico's are more like his eyes being shallowed by the deep and dark waters full of misery of the styx, deep ebony black but in constant movement and little forms that looks like ice sublimation

Still, sometimes in moment of pure joy or when hes relaxed his natural color is visible, being a mostly brown iris with little details of grey and deep green like the bark or the fruit of olives

- Has a large collection of silly bands ( you know , the 2000s elastic bands with form of anything you can imagine?) think about any collection of those things and he has it

He also knows how to do those bracelets of bands btw, he uses his fingers for it and as a result he always has the strangulation marks or bruces

- He and Drew ended up being friends

He had that little hunch Drew's attitude having more behind that she just being a Bitch without reason, he was totally right

They aren't attached to the hip or something, there's a lot of things about each other that they don't know or they didn't bothered to ask, but they thrusts each other and are close enough to talk about their life and things they feel can't talk with anyone else every once in a while

Nico's is also drew personal manikin/ken doll for her fashion design projects, he isn't complaining tough, all the clothes are stunning

- Other of his friends is Clovis from hypnos cabin

A lot of people doesn't understand how they have a lot of anecdotes about things they did together, because Clovis is always half sleep or straight up in another world or something during the day

The last part is they key, they literally are in other world, or something like that, dream magic has potential to take the phrase "live your dreams" to another level

- Full grown up , He isn't tall or short, he's just (technically )average

He's 5'7... It taked a time for him to grow up to that point though, he was stuck in 5'5 for a while until he was around 17/18yo

Still, he looks a bit short at the side of most people around him, it's not his fault 90% of the people he knows are fucking giraffes

The fact that a lot of the boys he falls for are... Well, pretty tall ( Solace, Torrington, Grace, yk that you're the ones im talking about) isn't helping neither.

- He has a transatlantic accent ( alongside with a slight Italian accent)

Is a result of learning English as a second language and having both american and British people like reference and not something made on purpose

Is almost vanished after being living in America at the XXI century for the past few years, but you can still hear it in the way he say some words and the fact that his idiolect mix indiscriminately British and American words

Btw, something funny of that is that if you let his guy at the Uk for enough he would totally turn into the other side of the coin and now he picked up the accent of the region were he is at the moment

- He has a wii and a DS ( he later got a 3DS when it was released), nobody knows how the fuck is that he isn't chased by monster 24/7 using that thing

He also end up with a insane amount of amibos once they were released in 2014

- For some reason his collections of anything are in those vitrines that the grandmas uses for the pretty dishes

- He got the standar lobe piercing

usually he just have a pair of black diamons studs ( kinda looks like the diamons by the yard earring of Tiffanys) but sometimes he uses a bajoran or a pair of drops

- Even whe he is older his job is basically being his father second had and ambassador, but a general concense is that he is also a really god tourist guide

Probably he would be turned into a god after he passes away for just be doing exactly what he already was doing as a demigod, just with immortality.

-Despite being Italian and the stereotypes, he was a disaster in the kitchen, the kind of person that you say them to boil 2 glasses of water for the rice and the next thing you now is that 2 cristals glases are straight up in the stove

in his defense, he at best can remember see his Nanny doing something or being with her sister and mother doing some kind of dessert ( his only contribution to that was eating the chocolate)

Now he may not be a five stars chef but he can do pretty good stuff sometimes, he's trying

- He can make pretty concerning "old fashioned" coments sometimes

Alright, he is not an asshole ( at least non on purpose) or something like that, but sometimes while talking he would say things that are the daily reminder of the fact that this guy over there is a white ass boy raised in the 30's decade with the addition of being Born in a pretty much wealthy and probably Noble family and who's whole social interaction with other people that aren't hundred of years old beings has been limited,and that leads to his perspective of society being a bubble of privilege and old high society ethics.

Like, the most of the time if he say something really... Questionable, is because he really never has stopped to think about it and he is just saying what they teach him ,was normal at the time, or is just a comment made of pure ignorance mouth-is-fasther-that-the-brain-tipe.

Sadly for him ( and luckily for the rest of the people that have to hear him) 90% of the times hazel is close when he say that kind of stuff and two of Three times he ends up being hit by the closest thing that was at her hand or for one of her shoes if nothing else is available, the other time its a 50/50, he realizes that he just said something that isn't right or hazel just look at him in full deception mode.

[privately-andre]

╰┈➤ TEEN GAYS

- Boys (Jongens)

Two teen runner athletes discover their sexualities while forming a beautiful friendship. IMDb: 7.4 My rating: 7/10

- North Sea Texas

Young Pim experiences his firsts with his best friend / next door Gino. IMDb: 7.1 My own Rating: 9/10

Ps: The end scene is incredible ;)

- The Way He Looks

Leonardo is a blind teen. Everything changes when a new boy arrives at school. They form an amazing bond really fast. IMDb: 7.9 My own Rating: 7/10

Ps: the sweatshirt scene !

- Centre Of My World

Phil is a classic twink. He falls in love with the newbie cool boy. IMDb: 7.2 My own Rating: 5/10

Ps: fuck this newbie to be honest.

- Seashore (Beira-Mar)

Two teens travel to countryside just two of them and question their friendship (or their love?) IMDb: 6 My own Rating: 7/10

- Just Friends

Two young men from different cultural backgrounds try to be together without their mothers approval. IMDb : 7.2 My own Rating: 6/10

- Love, Simon

Simon has a secret. He is gay! And he is also in love with an anonymous guy he met online. IMDb: 7.5 My own Rating: 6/10

- Handsome Devil

Ned is gay and he has to share a bedroom with hot rugby player Conor. (They do not become lovers) IMDb: 7 My own Rating: 7/10

- Summer Storm

Tobi realises he is in love with his best friend. This tests their relationship. IMDb: 7.3 My own Rating: 5/10

- Heartstone

A boy falls in love with his best mate in a very homophobic town in Iceland while his best mate falls in love with a girl. IMDb: 7.4 My own Rating: 6/10

Ps: not enough gayness…

- Sublime

Manuel and his friends have an indie band. Then he starts to fall for his band mate Felipe. They are also best friends… IMDb: 6.6 My own Rating: 7/10

Ps: the song used in this movie is so cool also the movie has an open ending.

- Summer of 85 (Été 85)

Alexis’ boats turns upside down when a storm breaks. He is saved by David. Then they start dating. IMDb: 6.9 My own Rating: 6/10

Ps: this movie was hilariously funny to me as a francophone even though it has major character death!

- I Killed My Mother (J’ai tué ma mère)

Hubert is a teen gay and has MASSIVE problems with his mom.. IMDb: 7.4 My own Rating: 7/10

- Prora

Two young boys decide to visit an abandoned Nazi holiday camp called Prora after a great party night. They test their relationship there. IMDb: 7.2 My own Rating: 9/10

Ps: the only bad thing about this movie is that it’s a short film.

- Departure

Elliot and his horny milf mother goes to their holiday house in france after his parent’s divorce. He meets a young french boy there and fucks a carrot. (I know I don’t sound serious :D) IMDb: 6.6 My own Rating: 2/10

Ps: I have no idea why they filmed this it’s so shit. Alex Lawther’s acting is horrible although I love Phénix Brossard here.

- Punch

Jim is a boxer forced by his father. He meets Whetu a gay Māori boy. He discovers his sexuality in the most beautiful way. IMDb: 6.4 My own Rating: 8/10

Ps: Trigger warning ❗️ Rape. (I wish I knew this before watching so I’m warning you)

- As You Are

Set in 1990’s. Young boy Jack falls in love with his new step brother Mark who is a crack head . They become friends with Sarah. These three kids go through rough times. IMDb: 6.5 My own Rating: 5/10

Ps: Acting is good but the plot is not well build.

[call-sign-shark]

shark should rlly drop whatever it is in her drafts about tom / mav now dont you guys thinks? 👀

If I'd listen to myself this account would be the lair of all my Tom Cruise fantasies 🥵 But for sure more Mav content is coming. I also plan to write his story with Shark but as Reader insert. Anyway, here is a little something to help you wait and to fulfill us; Tom Cruise's wives :B

Please like and/or reblog if ya liked it 💚

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✨DADDY'S BAD KITTEN ✨

Summary:  You see Mav wearing a suit for the very first time during Rooster's wedding, and it fucking turns you on

Words: 1.3k

Tags: pure smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink, creampie, fluff, Mav doing a magic trick??? , self-indulgence

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Rooster's wedding had been a much-awaited event.

All the Dagger squad, alongside Penny, had helped the adorable engaged couple in their wedding preparations. Ridiculously anxious about the whole matter, Penny Benjamin took care of the most important aspects of the party and, fortunately enough, every single thing went according to her plans. She was a hell of an organizer.

"Oh my god, where's the key?" Amelia asked, awe-struck by Pete's silly little tricks. She looked at you, confused, then at her mother before shifting back her focus on Mav.

"I don't know, maybe... Here?" Pete snapped his fingers and the shiny golden key appeared miraculously between his thumb and index finger right in front of Amelia's astonished eyes. The teenager snatched the key from the Captain's hand and gazed at it very closely as if the trick's explanations were written on it.

"What the hell! How did you do that?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets" Mav teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

The whole sight was too adorable for your heart to handle. You've been flirting and sleeping with Pete Mitchell for one solid year, but it became official only a few weeks ago. Obviously, some were a bit surprised by your relationship, for you were twenty-five years younger than him - on top of being one of his students. Yet, everyone had been supportive, especially Penny. She knew he had fallen for you the first time she saw you talking together.

"So, did I impress you?" Mav cooed, catching your hips between his two large and warm hands. His face lighted up and his lips stretched in a wide toothy smile when his beautiful emerald eyes met yours.

"Hm?" It was all you managed to answer, for he had pulled you out of your thoughts. The lights were reflecting on his seductive face, rendering the green of his eyes lighter, and sublimating the lovely marks time left on his skin. Mesmerized by how good-looking he was, you had barely listened to him.

"You haven't heard what I said, right?" He chuckled and shook his head, knowing how dreamy you could be, "I wonder what occupies your mind..." He almost purred in your ear, kissing your cheek. He could not help but touch you. He was addicted to the feeling of your skin against his.

"I thought about you in that stupid suit. Seriously Mitchell, seeing you dressed like that turns me on so much it's torture to wait for the end of the wedding to feel you inside me..." You whispered, your words candy-coated with burning desire. Something snapped in Mav's brain, for he suddenly felt weak. He brought his warm lips to your forehead to lay a gentle kiss on it, and smell the intoxicating fragrance of your shampoo.

"Who asked you to wait?"

"Pete..." You retorted, one brow raised when he moved his head back to stare at your right in the eyes. His wide smile had turned into a small, seductive smirk, "Pete, no. We are at a wedding. We don't do that at a wedding..." Your voice broke at the sensation of his hands grabbing your hips with more fervor. Blood rushed between your legs at his arousing touch, "Don't give me that look."

"It's the only one I got, kitten." He quickly glanced around him to make sure no one would notice you, then he wrapped his muscular arm around your shoulders to leave the room.

Both of you were making out in the janitor's closet. Maverick was pinning you against the wall, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. You could feel his hard and fierce shaft slipping into your wet slit. Trying to hold your moan, you crashed your lips again his and parted them to let his fury tongue in your mouth. One of your hands ran through his perfectly combed brown hair while the other clenched on his back, your nails digging into the fabric of his blazer.

"You're so wet for Daddy." He whispered in a low voice, his charming smile making you blush, "What a naughty kitten you are, wanting me to fuck you during your best friend's wedding..." Your skin heated up as you felt the smooth head of his cock pushing against your tiny wet hole. He thrust it slowly, to feel your pulsing walls stretch as he buried the thick tip in your weeping pussy.

"D-daddy don't tease... Please" You begged. He could feel your legs trembling around him. Your pleading brought a sadistic smile to his face.

" You know I love to tease you, to turn you into a crying and frustrated mess. Fuck, you can't imagine how I want you to beg for me to ruin your body. But gotta be quick, Shark." He purred, licking the corner of your lips in a wet and warm stroke of his tongue.

Mav invaded you in one brutal movement. His hard cock stretched your walls in one sudden thrust, making you roll your eyes and bit your lips not to yell with pleasure: "Oh Daddy! " You moaned, torn between the relief of his dick filling you entirely and the frustration of him not moving.

"Fuck I missed that tight, young pussy of yours kitten... " He growled, trying to keep a bit of self-control. He was so enamored and so aroused by you, that he tended to forget about everything else than the carnal urge he felt for you. His hips bucked, fucking your poor delicate flower with a brutal and merciless rhythm.

You almost sobbed at his violence, for he was hitting that spot that usually made you drool on the pillow, "Daddy, daddy, daddy!" Your moans were like a divine chant psalming your love for carnal lust. There he was, hypnotized by your mermaid's song, mixed with the delicious sound of flesh smacking, pussy crying, and his own growls. The sensual melody of your love filled the room.

Heat pooling in your belly, you tried to chase your upcoming climax to keep Captain Mitchell's hard cock a bit longer inside you - it felt so good to have him buried deep in your cunt that each time he pulled out something broke in your soul. You felt empty.

"Oh fuck, Kitten... " He gasped in pleasure, breath hitching and hips snapping. You felt his cock throbbing inside your walls and you knew he was about to cum.

"N-No Mav, don't! We are at a ..." You begged but he was not listening. Maverick moaned louder and, arching his back, he filled your hole with his warm cum in one final thrust. The sensation of his hot and milky seed made your toes curls in your heels. You threw your head back and cried as a hell of a climax almost knock you out. You panted, stars dangling in your vision, as your body cool down. You felt like you were floating.

"Good girl, Shark. Daddy's proud." Mav praised you and pulled out. Cum soon overflowed from your weeping pussy, forming long milky streams which ran down your thighs. You were back on your shaky legs, fighting not to collapse on the ground.

"We need to go back, they are about to bring the cake." He said, buckling his belt without looking at you. You shook your head.

"Wait, I can't go back like that! I'm... " Words are stuck in your throat.

"Your cunt is drooling with cum, I know." Mav raised one brow and smiled, a wide smile with perfect white teeth. You tried to reach your panties but he is quicker, and hid them in the pocket of his blazer, "Nope, you don't need that. I want you to come back to the room and have fun, acting like you are not filled like the bratty slut you are."

"But- but-" You panicked, and he gently caressed one of your blushed cheeks with his thumb.

"Keep your legs closed, Kitten. And I hope it will teach you not to call me Mav during sex. It's Sir or Daddy. Nothing else. Understand?"

"Yes Sir," You whispered.

Notes: this was inspired by the 2017 interview of Tom Cruise in the Quotidien. It's about 26 minutes long, and I only squealed for 25 minutes teeheeeeeee~ Seriously gimme that man pls

[anxious-acorn]

Black Coffee 🔞

Chapter 11: Wrapped In You 🔞

Summary: Alastor awakens and you prepare for Extermination Day.

“Y/N… Mmm… I need you, mon cœur.” Sharp teeth nipped at your jaw, and you tilted your head to grant your lover access, a low groan escaping your bloody lips. “Will you let me come home?”

Alastor had woken in the dark early hours of the morning, those lovely coral eyes burning with a fire you hadn’t seen before. It sent such a thrill through your core- that unadulterated heat blazing under those thick lashes. It would seem your desperate feast had had quite the effect on your sweet buck. You knew all too well the desire that could linger after such attentions, and seeing your darling under such a spell made your heart swell with love and pride as you met his stare.

“Please, my buck,” you whined and arched your back for him. The low growling moan and static that filled the air set your hair to raising.

Alastor pressed himself into you, dragging his lips across any exposed skin he could find. Flicking his tongue out, he sampled the mixture of his blood dried with your sweat and moaned at the flavor. You felt a rush of wind when he snapped off your clothing, hair dye and costume makeup before sitting up to stare down at you. Those beautiful glowing eyes devoured your form, as if memorizing every curve, every detail.

You blushed under the intensity of that crimson gaze, reaching for your love as he bent to cover you. You felt like the most sublime creature to ever walk through Hell when he looked at you so desperately- like he wanted to protect you, fuck you and shred you to pieces all at once.

You wondered if that was something he would want to try, and were slightly surprised by the rush of arousal joining the adrenaline that hit at that thought. To have your darling actually ripping flesh from your bones while he fucked you senseless… That’s something you had never willingly given a partner before- you’d never trusted anyone that much, but your heart felt so safe in Alastor’s care. He was always so considerate with you and your boundaries, taking only what was offered and giving back in return; offering his comfort without asking, and trying to learn about you and your way of thinking.

Would he want that? He’d certainly enjoyed biting during intercourse, and he’d seemed thrilled when you took meat from him in your last tryst, but would he want to consume you during your passions? Your shade split from you to bite a chunk of meat from your thigh, your scream alerting Alastor. A cute ear swiveled before his head turned to meet your shade. Their tail wagged as they held your meat between their fangs in offering to him, and the resulting bellow set your loins flaring in need.

You watched in twisted delight as he accepted the meat before pulling your shadow in for a passionate kiss, driving his rigid cock into your heat with a debauched moan. Such a beautiful demon; so perfect for you. You wanted to offer your heart and watch him eat it.

He was thrusting into you so roughly, desperately chasing his release as your shade scratched and tugged at his ears. Alastor was a bloody mess above you, rutting recklessly with eyes clenched and smile more resembling a snarl. You felt high; you were intoxicated from the hunger in those eyes as he used your body.

You wrapped yourself around him and cried out with each thrust. He began growing inside you; over you, around you. Tentacles pulled at your tail and wrapped around any flesh that wasn’t already claimed.

“Ahh! Yes, Alastor! More, my buck! Please... I can take it,” you growled out as you met his thrusts and pulled at his hair. “Mark your territory…”

The roaring bellow that sounded shot straight to your cunt, and you threw your head back in ecstasy as he pounded into you. He ground his pelvis into yours and you moaned as tentacles pulled your arms above your head.

Sharp yellowed fangs sank into your chest, ripping flesh from you as you screeched for your lover. Long, twisted fingers wrapped around your throat, giving an experimental squeeze and you keened, pressing your throat further into your monster’s palm.

“I don’t know whether I want to breed you or devour you, my Vixen. I do believe you’re creating a monster.”

Oh sweet, wrathful Satan, you wanted that.

“Good…” you groaned out, your voice cracking as his grip tightened around your throat. “I’m a greedy demon, darling… Hah… Give me everything- I want it all. Show me- ahh… the power of the Radio Demon.”

Your challenge set Alastor’s form to cracking and contorting, his dialed pupils switching and turning as he snarled and crashed his lips against yours, fangs drawing blood as his hips slammed into your slick heat. Fuck! His cock was hitting that sweet spot that sent you reeling. His hand fell from your throat in favor of squeezing and kneading your breast, the other gouging lines down your side as your pussy clenched and pulsed around his length. You panted and groaned as you watched him lose control above you, static buzzing in the air.

Your heavy breathing mixed with the music of your joining, your eyes focused solely on each other as your bodies moved together. The tentacles holding your wrists released you and you sliced a claw into the side of your throat, tilting your head in offering to your ravenous lover.

His teeth sank in and you came undone as you felt him draw blood from your wound, squirting over his cock with a scream. That spurred on your buck, releasing a distorted, rumbling snarl against your throat as he pounded into your pulsing heat.

You were in such exquisite ecstasy, your body going limp in your lover’s arms and tentacles as he chased his own release. A roaring bellow sounded and you watched with fuzzy interest as your shade held and pulled at Alastor’s tail, dragging their claws down his back as he thrust desperately into you.

His hips stuttered and you felt the swell of his cock before the sensation of his shooting seed filled you. The pulsing heat of his release sent you spasming into another orgasm, moaning low and wriggling in pleasure among your lover’s limbs. You were addicted to the feelings he released within you, and you never wanted to let him go.

You laid there, spent and panting as you lover rested atop you, his tentacles squeezing you further into his arms as he breathed in your scent and snuffled into your hair with a contented sigh. You felt so safe wrapped up in him- warm and cherished. A soft purr rumbled in your chest as you soaked in the afterglow, wriggling and nuzzling happily into his body.

“Well, I believe I have confirmed that I indeed enjoy being feasted on by you, my Vixen,” came the breathy voice above you as your beau chuckled to himself. You gave a short, breathless laugh and nosed into his throat, running your fingertips lightly along his arms.

“Well my darling, I believe I’ve confirmed I quite enjoy watching you feast on me in the midst of our passions, so we’re both learning something new.” You hummed out a contented sigh before kissing his cheek and moving to get up. Alastor retracted his tentacles and released you, leaning on his hand to watch you walk away with a soft smile.

When you got back to bed, Alastor pulled you into his arms with a happy bleat, nuzzling his chin between your ears. “I love you, mon cœur.” His words sent your heart whirling in rapturous bliss- you would never grow tired of hearing them. “I love you, my heart,” you sighed out before drifting off in his arms.

When you woke, the morning light shone through your window (you should really remove that stupid feature. Or maybe time it to only open after noon) and you groaned at the intrusion. “Fuckin’ evil light,” you growled out and turned your head into the fluff of Alastor’s chest.

You heard a sleepy chuckle and a snap of fingers before the light disappeared from the room. “You know, for someone who hates morning light, it’s quite odd to install a special dimensional window,” came the sly staticky reply.

“I used to love mornings in the early days, but I’ve grown slothful in my old age,” you joked, nuzzling into the plush softness of your lover’s chest with a contented purr.

Alastor chuckled, carding his claws through your tousled hair as he breathed in your scent. You laid there, dozing for another hour before you felt Alastor stir and kiss the top of your head.

“I’m afraid I must get up now, mon cœur. Would you like breakfast?” You groaned and nipped at his bicep before letting him up, immediately missing the heat he produced. Your body curled into the comforter and you soaked in the scent of your mate- there was something so satisfying about being surrounded by his scent.

You heard Alastor’s cooing at you before you felt his shadow curl around you under the covers and kiss your cheek before settling. Snuggling into them happily, you croaked out your sleepy reply. “No, thank you darling. Just come kiss me before you go?”

“Of course, my darling,” he said, walking to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be heading out now, then. Would you join me at the hotel this evening? We are beginning battle training today with the residents and Cannibal Town, and since you wish to fight, I’d like to gage your combat skills and offer you tutelage for any areas that may be lacking. Perhaps even work on shadow travel if possible.”

You were only half listening, relaxing comfortably in the arms of your mate’s shadow, and cracked an eye open to find Alastor’s glowing gaze focused on you. With a yawn, you considered whether you would have time for combat training. ‘Bitch, you better make time. We are not dying after just finding the perfect mate,’ your shade chirped from within you, an annoyed huff leaving their essence.

You chuckled and reassured them of your shared priorities before smiling at your beau. “I think I can make time. I may be a serial killer, but I could certainly use the extra training. It’s been decades since I’ve needed to worry about fighting.”

Alastor smiled at your words, but you noticed the crease of his brow knitting and cupped his face, stroking his cheek softly. “I promise, my heart, only you are allowed to kill me,” you whispered before planting a soft kiss against his lips. He sighed and reached to pet your ear as your lips dragged against each other.

“I hope you know how badly I wish to spirit you away and cage you until this whole fiasco is finished,” he groaned out after separating from your kiss, molten gaze searing into you.

You purred in twisted delight at his confession, crimson eyes narrowing as your smile grew wider. “I hope you know that that’s one of the sexiest things you’ve ever said to me, my sweet buck.”

“You’re making it extremely difficult to leave you,” Alastor growled out, leaning his forehead into yours as he fisted his hand in your hair. You moaned at your lover’s display and pulled him in for another kiss. “I wouldn’t be opposed to another round if you have the time.”

He chuckled at your proposal and rubbed his nose against yours, releasing your hair before standing. “Alas, dearest, I must away. Rest, my sweet Vixen.” He called his shade back to himself and gave you one last longing look before he disappeared into shadow. You instantly felt his absence, cuddling further into your blankets and falling asleep wrapped in his warm scent.

You slept another three hours before you finally felt ready to begin your day. If you were going to fight in the upcoming extermination, there were preparations that needed to be made.

You showered quickly and dressed in a simple black sundress. Sitting at your desk, you opened your notebook to start a list. You would need to tell Valentino and Velvette that you would be unavailable until after the extermination, maybe longer depending on how bad things get. You were adept at healing magick, but you would need to improve in that area if you wanted to help more than just three people. If you prepared them early, you could have a decent stock of healing aids for different injuries- you would need to restock your cabinet before working on those.

As you wrote your list, you couldn’t help the anxious worry that you would only be hindering the effort, but tamped it down before pulling a blunt out of your drawer to light. The smoke helped, but only so much; you knew that this would be your state until after everything was over and your loved ones were confirmed safe. Before you knew it, you had filled five pages with tasks to be completed in order of priority and time needed to finish. You would need to go to the apothecary down in Lust to collect all the ingredients needed for the healing aids, so you could handle Val and Velvette while on your outing. You could drop off Angel’s salary tonight when meeting Alastor.

You headed downstairs and grabbed out enough money for everything you needed to take care of before slipping on a pair of red pumps and heading out.

————————————————-

“It shouldn’t be a big deal. Are you still good to work tomorrow, or do you want to reschedule the shoot?”

“I will still be here tomorrow, I just won’t be available again until after extermination day. Once I’ve gotten better, I’ll be sure to call as well. I usually calm down a week afterwards, so you can expect to hear from me then.”

You hadn’t been sure whether to tell Valentino and Velvette of your true intentions to fight for the princess, so you’d made an excuse of extermination anxiety to excuse your absence from life and work. Velvette had seemed suspicious, but accepted your excuse as just you being caught up in your new ‘boy toy’.

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow at 2:00… Vixen...”

You turned your head back to look at the tall moth.

“Stay safe, Chiquita. And… Feel better.” He smiled and you felt your stomach turn uncomfortably at the warm look he was giving you. It was disgusting, having to be cordial with such a beast, but you smiled back before turning to leave.

When visiting the apothecary, you made sure to purchase extra supplies, just in case. You could never have too many health aids. You’d stopped by Ozzie’s to visit and have dinner, and ended up buying a couple of new lingerie pieces you’d found particularly cute before heading back to Pride.

It was dark by the time you arrived back home, and you organized your cabinet before walking over to your notebook to check off you completed tasks. It always helped to check off something needing done, and you felt the tiniest bit of relief from your worries. Making lists was always something that helped when you felt overwhelmed.

Checking your clock, you decided to head over to the hotel, and grabbed the envelope with Angel’s salary before leaving.

You couldn’t help but feel everyone’s absence as you walked through the empty Cannibal Town. Perhaps the residents were staying at the hotel- you’d have to ask Alastor about that; you felt as if you were walking through a ghost town, trapped in time.

It would appear that the whole of Cannibal Town was indeed staying at the hotel- you were greeted by Flora and Ethel as you walked into the lobby.

“Y/N! Are you joining in the angelic buffet? I’m positively ecstatic at the prospect!” Flora was practically vibrating in her manic glee, you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your throat. Flora was an even bigger foodie than you, and her excitement was contagious.

“Flora! Ethel! I’m so glad to see you looking so well. Indeed, I plan to join in the fun. I can’t pass up the opportunity to enjoy a rare delicacy!” You felt Alastor’s aura behind you and shivered at the feeling of it pressing around you.

“Good evening, dearest. Ladies.” You turned to look up at your beau and gave him a warm smile, taking the hand he’d placed on your shoulder and kissing the knuckles. “Good evening, my darling. It appears that everyone is camping out here until the big day of the feast. I must say, it’s a little unnerving to stroll through the streets of a ghost town. 10/10 would highly recommend.”

Alastor chuckled, a light blush coloring his cheeks as he gazed down at you.

“Alastor! It’s lovely to see you again, sir!” Ethel piped up as Flora lost her voice, face turning beet red as she stared between you two. Aww, she was just too cute sometimes! Alastor smiled at the two cannibettes, engaging in a bit of small talk with Ethel before excusing himself and pulling you along with him.

“Come along, sweetheart! I have a lovely evening dessert prepared for you,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he gave you a sly smile. You felt a blush rising in your as various fantasy scenarios began filing in your mind. Well, after all, you did only eat dinner. You could use a little something sweet.

[ravencromwell]

Every time I want to talk about @starsailores Life is Equal to Dust in the Balancer's eye, I'm confronted with an unsolvable conundrum: how do you rec a story of this caliber without descending into jibbering incoherence as you scream at the rest of the fandom they _must IMMEDIATELY go read and descend into the unbearable, beautiful katabasis with you? Particularly when you've known from the second it got vaguely posted about it was going to be rare and special? Not simply because Lucas has phenomenal control of voice, dough he does. But because the whole premise: love taken to the extremes of madness, is tailored exquisitely to your id. Particularly when it was special in all the ways advertised on the tin—hopeless, hopeful journeys; grief; love; the eeriness of death in all its incomprehensible strangeness. And yet was also special in ways you could never have anticipated. It would have been so easy for a tale like this to be unremitting, hopeless bleakness. We know, after all, how it is bound to end. But for all this is an ostensible tale of trying and failing at the impossible, Lucas makes it as much or more a paean to memory: as blessing, consolation, way to ensure a legacy lingers in the world. For Vortalis, who "spoke with the rasping cough of a lifelong smoker, had the scarred and calloused hands of a violent youth, and held the brutally honest opinions of a politician" fairly leaps off the page. The most vivid, visceral moments of this piece are in the land of the living, whether they're bantering over philosophy or the absence of wine and cheese. It's in passages like: "Ros Vortalis had left a mark everywhere he went, be it handful of coins dropped into a beggar's outstretched palm or an impassioned speech to spark a revolution, and he should have had decades more to make those marks into the grand picture he had always envisioned." (I fucking told you Lucas's voice was sublime.) Or in the way that, even in the bleakest of moments, he's trying to make one Holland Vosijk laugh * eyes Lucas balefully over a line I will not spoil and that is still making me a goddamn weeping mess seventy-fucking-two hours later*

And there's a necessary, vital hope in that: for all the reckless deals Holland has made, for everything that can and will be lost, the way the dead leave a mark in how much they have shaped the living is something that can never be taken away.

Vor's influence is braided throughout this piece, in ways one rarely gets with the Eurydice of myth: the line which shall live rent-free just beneath my breastbone is: "There was always that dark voice in the back of his mind, the one that whispered sweet promises of release to him in the worse moments, but Vor had painstakingly taught him to ignore those bitter temptations, and Holland refused to let one terrible night undo those years of teaching."

I think all of us who have lost someone know those memories never fade, the way one might expect. They lie quiescent, sometimes, for days, weeks. But they come back vividly over the smallest things: a smell, the lilting up of a stranger's voice. They're not always bad; far from it, they're often funny, comforting, what have you. This story is inflected with those rhythms, whether it's the teaching line quoted above, or musing over a keepsake, or stepping into Vor's shoes to solve an intractable conundrum. It feels. like the catharsis Schwab didn't have canonical room to give us. From a Doylist lens, we know how powerful Holland's grief must be because of the vividness of Vortalis in flashback, far more present than even Alox or Talya, who often feel more like character sketches. But that did not entirely make up for, save in very specific instances may we all remember being slain by Rosenal, the way that memory, grief, what have you didn't particularly _inflect Holland's present. It's something I've been craving from Holland-centric pieces, without quite having the capacity to articulate, until I saw how seamlessly it appeared here.

And my GOD, speaking of canon, the fucking transpositions! Thing I did not know I needed until December thirty-first and now _desperately need more of: poet Holland Vosijk as the main speechwriter/propagandist/what have you for Grey London revolutionary Ros Vortalis. Lucas over here making me want to dig up all the chartist poetry I discovered in one of the best history projects of the last semester, from Joseph Skipsey to Ellen Johston.

The way the goddamn knife!!!!!!! becomes an integral element, not so much as weapon in this magicless world, but as "Unique reassurance of what he meant to another person available whenever he felt himself faltering." What a flawless way to get at the heart of a thing's value, even as its ostensible use is stripped away.

Or, the small, oh-so-carefully considered homages to canon: Barron guarding the underworld from the unwary, just as he guards the remnants of Grey's magic holy fucking hell _inspired. The Barron characterization is just SUBLIME, with him fairly leaping off the page in lines like: "Best they spend the night here, where someone can keep an eye out for them, and stay out of trouble." of those exhausted, embittered patrons who find their way to a tavern on death's door. How empathy wars with hard-nosed pragmatism: "Just don't come crying to me when that self-sacrificial determination of yours burns you."

This is a world deeply lived in, with innumerable asides not crucial to this particular tale that have me as invested in who Holland was before this moment as whom he shall be after. The mentions of laying both his lover and brother to rest; the meditations on how revenge never truly sates grief, as though this is a man who has shed a fair amount of blood once upon a time. Revelations all the more tantalizing given that the heart of this tale is a rapid-fire philosophical repartee between Holland and the Shadow King on whether there is indeed a shred of kindness within humanity.

I've deliberately erred on the side of sparseness when discussing the transposition of Black London as the underworld, because the layers of it should be discovered on one's own. It is a tour de force, with its "Slick black streets almost familiar enough to give him déjà vu, but [with] a thrum of cold energy that lent a dark undercurrent to the empty buildings and starless sky." It is a tale I will be pondering for a long time to come, and I cannot believe we were fannishly fortunate enough for Lucas to present it as capstone to this exhausting, often bleak year.

[Also, while Lucas's soundtrack is already excellent, may I rec a curated list of selections from the incomparable OBC of Anais Mitchell's Hadestown, since they're what I've had on repeat for oh y'know the last three days as I've written snatches of this rec and reread the fic.

"Any Way the Wind Blows" feels like such! a goddamn Holland Vosijk song, both before he meets Vor and in the month over which this fic takes place.

"All I've Ever Known" FUCK. Just the encapsulation of the Holland/Vor relationship.

"If It's True" is Holland fucking Vosijk of this verse to a goddamn tee.

And "Promises" is just. everything he wants. Everything he's lost.]

[little-peril-stories]

OC Name Meanings

Rules: Put down an OC or more and tell what their name means.

Thanks for the tag, Anna! 💜 @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

you know what time it is. time for an open tag.

When I was a kid, my parents had these physical books of baby names and their meanings. I've always liked to write and create characters, so you know I was obsessed with those books. There was one in particular I more or less just kept (at that point it was clear they were done having kids, lol). I mean, that thing was tattered. The cover came clean off. Sometimes I was using it for the stories I was writing; sometimes, I was literally just reading it like a book.

So, as you might expect, I always take great care when naming my characters. I like to choose names with deep symbolic meanings that fit their characterization.

Nope lol I literally just pick names that sound cool or that come into my head at that moment.

Let's see how I did with the crew from The Prince of Thieves / The Queen of Lies.

Sources: Baby Names | Baby Center | Nameberry, aka the first three websites that came up in my search

Breanna: noble | strong, hill | virtuous, honourable

I wanted to make her full name her something else that looks similar, but when I searched up the pronunciation, it wouldn't abbreviate to Bree, which I had very randomly decided on, so she became Breanna instead. Someone should tell TQOL Breanna that her name means "strong" — I'm sure she'll be astonished.

From TPOT: Bree saw hope and fucking grabbed it. She heard Gysborne tell her she was going to her death, and she hurled herself toward her chance at life. Bree Cooper is still clinging to that hope, and it is beautiful.

This is probably NOT going to be in the final draft of TQOL so have it here: ...but she had a voice, and she could kick her legs, and being quiet and demure and the good wife had served her well for so long, and it had worked, more or less, but today, this was a different beast, a different foe, and if she didn’t fight, then there was no one else to fight for her, was there?

William: will, desire, helmet, protection | resolute protection

Honestly, he was invented on the spot and I probably named him after Will Turner, because pirates will never not be sexy? Anyway. Can't believe one of these names is actually spot on. Yay!

No, I vow. I have already decided, long known, in fact, that I will not betray the others. Baden Hatchett will never hear the names James Wardrew, Colette Haris, or Geoffrey Marks. I will take their names and the location to whatever unmarked grave they dig for me. I will take my own name into death with me if it means it will protect the others.

James: supplanter | heel

Another generic dude name I sort of picked out of nowhere... or, more likely, I probably saw one of the countless Outlander gifs that go around and stole Jamie Fraser's name. Jamie W. does act like a heel sometimes so that works. Jk Jamie we love you!

If you want IA, then you want me. If the man you arrested goes free, unharmed, I will turn myself in, and Iustitia aecum will be no more.

Colette: victory of the people | people of victory

Her name just happened! No rhyme or reason. Glad this is what it means though, who knows what would've happened to IA if it meant the opposite.

"And then Spider… She… When the chance to do something good for people who had nothing, when that opportunity finally presented itself… That little wooden coin… It changed my life.”

Geoffrey: God peace | peace, territory, pledge | pledge of peace

No idea why I picked this name—or why, around the same time, I also had a character called Jeff (Jeffersen) in Fen & Freddie. But hey! Geoff doesn't talk much, so the whole "peace" thing kind of tracks.

Geoff wraps his arms around me, presses his face against my neck, the unkempt, wiry hairs of his beard digging into my skin, a sublime sort of torment, innocent yet lethal. “Jamie. You are my family."

Allan: little rock | handsome | cheerful

He gets the honour of being the only character to have the same name as someone from the Robin Hood stories. (Will doesn't count.) He isn't particularly cheerful and I suspect he doesn't believe he's that handsome, but at least I got to name him Allan-a-Dale.

I scrabble on the muddy ground, finding a rock the size of my fist. Although my grip is weak from the cold, I hold it up.  ... I hurl it at him, trying to hit his head and falling embarrassingly short. “You’re one of them.” I feel around for another stone, find a smaller one, throw that, too.

Baden: bather | son of bade [other websites also gave me "battle" and "humble, confident"... idk 🤔]

Honestly? “Baden Hatchett” sounded really cool and villainous. I burst into laughter when I saw that the one site said "bather." This guy…he wants to cleanse the world of crime. 😂 But really, I just named him after the place in Germany (it’s also a small community in Ontario) for no other reason than that it sounds cool.

The delinquent rat before me, though, will never wash away the stain of his crimes—the years stealing riches from the pockets of hardworking men, of luring impressionable innocents into his gang of thieves. Nor can he brush away the bruise blossoming across his jaw, nor the blood dripping down his chin from his nose.

Curtis: courteous, courtly | polite

His name just happened. Constable Lenton needed a first name for TQOL and this was it. But it makes sense—guess this is why he's always so pissed off about someone using rude language about Breanna. 🙃 Swearing’s not very courteous at all, is it?

“Enough of your miserable attitude and your filthy tongue.” Curt’s voice was sharp enough to cut. Slick with disgust. Harsh with rage. “You want to mouth off to me or Constable Hatchett or any of us and take your licks for acting like a wild animal? Fine. But there’s a lady present, and you’ll behave accordingly. Do you understand?”

Verity: truth

I just really wanted her name to abbreviate to very so I could associate Colette with Much. That's the whole story there.

Rolling my eyes, nudging her with my elbow, I say, “Pay attention. Help me assuage some of my guilt.”

“Can’t do that,” Verie says gently, and I hate her for being right. “You ought to tell him whatever it is you lied about.”

Thank you so much for this tag! It was really fun. <3

[cedarandstories]

The Embrace

James:

It’s nights like these that find me missing you and everyone the most. The soft, cool air brushes softly against my skin, the little breeze creeping in through the open sliver of my kitchen window. At first, it is abrasive, the goosebumps on my arm stand up firm at attention from the sudden temperature change. However, over time, I find it much more acceptable, and even grow to love it. 

I apply this thinking to how I have begun to see embrace. A past me would not have ever tolerated it. Touch was appalling. Just another chance for someone to note your imperfections, or find disgust in you. I used to assume this would always be the case, and I shielded myself by shielding myself from touch. 

Over time, this view radically shifted. I started by accepting the slight touches. The little nods of affection that show that in a sea of chaos our friends love us. The arms around shoulders. The fist bumps. The sideways hugs that make sure you don’t hug like a couple does because of societal expectations. 

Then, it became a genuine sign of affection. The full embrace of a hug, because fuck society. The slight ruffling (or full on messing up) of hair. The soft touch of a hand to a cheek, caressing and holding it, almost holding up the entire person - the entire spirit - in that one action. Those were the actions I began to see and seek out, as well as reciprocate because of the beauty of them. 

While embracing and loving my friends, my absolute favorite part of the journey has been discovering the unbridled beauty of bodies. I don’t mean beauty in some feminine descriptor, but in the literal definition of it: “a combination of qualities, such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.” This is how I see those bodies. Their skin, the smooth crevices caused by wear and tear, the hair styles, the color of eyes I can get lost in, the soft touch of their hands, their arms wrapped around me. I can get lost in it. I am lost in it. 

The more time I spend with my friends, the more I see this beauty in everything about them. And it isn’t in the imperfections like some silly cliche (I am silly in many ways, but I’ll be damned if I am a cliche while writing on old parchment with a pen and ink). I want to describe them below to you, to remind you of what we miss and cannot have right now. 

1. I can sink into his arms all the time. The tiny peck of a forehead kiss makes me swoon in bliss. I’ll never be able to fully articulate the joy of their hands running through my hair. It sparks something inside of me, a childlike joy that makes me crane my neck in the direction of his hand, hoping for more intimacy and care. His stomach is absolutely lovely, and the stretch marks tell a story of a body that is learning to accept being cared for. I hope they continue to care for it regardless of what others say, because he is so amazing. I would lay on his chest and shoulders for a millenia. 

2. His skin is soft and sublime. Holding him feels like a supine comfort I wish everyone knew. The failed stick and poke is etched above his left arm, near his shoulder, dots and covers a small section of the upper arm. It almost looks like a lost symbol, some great literary idea that was lost to the ages. Lost to the Gods of old. His hair flails around when you run your hands through it, unsure of what to do. His hand on my cheek is an ultimate comfort, and holding him from behind while I run my hands across his stomach warms my soul and causes a flicker to light up in me. I’d kiss his soft lips for a good, long while. 

3. Their arms around me have never caused apprehension, more than I can say for the family of old who wanted the same. They held me through that first night of panic, that unsure, scared boy, was not yet ready to accept the help. But he tried to accept it, and they offered wholeheartedly and beautifully. I do not think there are enough words in our silly language to describe how they mean so much to me. Playing with their hair never ceases to amaze me, and I will never not stare in awe when they play with my hand. 

Perhaps we can reunite soon and rediscover these lost joys. The joys of intimacy. The embrace of another human exposing themselves as much as you do yourself. Opening up the embrace of skin on skin, the idea of laying eyes on a person with just as many perfections as you do. I wish more people saw this. Saw the beauty in one another. I wasted far too many years afraid to embrace and afraid to let others lay eyes on me. Now, the journey of discovering this love and the embrace has been second to none. I hope I never stop this journey in life through friendship and love. 

Yours,

Daniel

[superficialdomina]

Aaaaaaah this was so beautiful!!!

As usual, you DESTROY me with your descriptions of Loki - body, costume, smarm, secrets.

You slid a hand down his torso, through the mass of white foliage ruffles which lapped against your palm in flickering candlelight. They were hard, and yet soft. Just like him.

(The Ken-doll line had me chuckling out loud!)

I LOVE me some ethical non-monogamy. Like, whatever your rules are, you stick with 'em and I am HERE FOR IT. Paired with a little possessive, healthy jealousy? Fuck yes. 🔥🔥🔥

He tasted like jealousy. Traces of expensive perfume lingering on his skin and the faint hang of some rich whisky doing its best to conceal it. A thrill flooded through you, imagining the mark's desire roaring through her blood as she felt his muscle ripple beneath her touch.

The "forgotten" lipstick was sublime!

I mean all I can say is, we've come a long way since Amanda 😂

Remnants of perfume from her wrists as she wound her arms around his neck, perhaps. But it would be gone soon. It always was. They always were. And you? You remained.

You always did.

Chilllls, lady!! Absolute romance true love goosebumpy chills.

Believe Me [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Home from a mission in the dead of night, Loki requires absolution (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Avenger!Loki. Established relationship. Mild sub!loki, non-toxic jealously, 'authorised' mild infidelity (missions, innit).

You had dozed, slipping between the fleeting embrace of slumber. Snatches came and went, the cool of your pillow turning hot before you turned it again.

Fat feathers crisped as you lowered your head. The finest Asgardian goose. Loki insisted. With each wave of consciousness, you tried not to think of your lover destructively flirting his way through a honeytrap mission tonight. The poor mark didn’t stand a chance. You checked the clock. 03.23.

But something feels different.

Sitting up, you squinted beyond the darkness.

On the far side of the room, a wing-back chair rose in the gloom. The draped silk of your discarded robe still hung over the armrest, but it shimmered. It was moving. Black became grey as your eyes adjusted, seeing pale fingers weaving silk between them.

You saw him now.

Legs crossed, back straight and chin dipped as he watched you sleep while he bathed in shadow. Curls sat effortlessly back from his face, slices of cheekbone protruding from blackest night.

The shade of his suit was at one with the leather behind, but Loki’s bright eyes smouldered; embers of starlight and dying galaxies deep in the darkness. “I didn’t wish to wake you, love” he murmured, pulling the silk hem through his fingers a final time before letting it fall.

One long leg unfurled over the other, the click of his heel meeting the floor making you clench beneath the bed-covers. You were wet already. So wet. Like your body could sense his presence, if not yet your mind. She always could.

Like a dream, you cast the duvet back and rose; bare feet padding across the boards towards him. Cool air sent gooseflesh rippling up your thighs, your arms; the curves of your body protected only by a flimsy camisole. Only a few more steps. The leather of the chair squeaked as his thighs spread against the sides. “Loki,” you breathed, cupping his face.

No sooner had the name left your lips than a row of candles flickered to life, illuminating him from behind. They floated in the air, rivulets of wax already spilling soft rolls down the sides. “Hel-lo,” he purred teasingly. One eyebrow cocked. And the threat of a smirk pressing against his cheeks.

For the first time, you noticed his unusual attire. A three piece suit, with its crowning glory the drip of starched ruffles cascading down his chest to the high waist of his trousers. He shifted in the chair, the pad of a fingertip brushing a close-lipped smile.

“Steve really went Ken-doll on you tonight, huh?” you teased, mirth ebbing to renewed desire as he drew the fingers to the bow-tie fastened at his neck.

He shrugged, tugging it slowly, letting the silk unfurl. It hung perfectly around his collar. You wondered if he would tie you up with it. You hoped he would.

In a flash, two large hands cupped your ass, pulling you down to his lap. With a gasp you managed to straddle him, slotting your knees on either side of his thick trunk. You kissed him deeply, savouring the softness of his tongue as it welled and licked and loved you. The ceremony was about to begin. His fingers spread against your cheeks, pulling and massaging as he groaned into your throat.

He tasted like jealousy. Traces of expensive perfume lingering on his skin and the faint hang of some rich whisky doing its best to conceal it. A thrill flooded through you, imagining the mark's desire roaring through her blood as she felt his muscle ripple beneath her touch. But Loki would never betray you, not beyond the emotionless tactics his position required.

Your thumb skated up his cheek, catching a patch of forgotten lipstick near his ear. Forgotten? No. You knew better than that. Whenever Loki came home from ensnaring a target with his wiles, he never missed the chance to make sure you knew who he belonged to. It was a mission. It was nothing. But ceremony must be upheld. His lips waxed and waned deeper, firing passion setting you alight. Every swallow was harsher and deeper than the last. Like he might lose you in the darkness. Loki grunted wetly as you scooted closer on his lap, chest flush to your colossus of a lover while his fingers wound in your hair. Your digits slid down his chest, feeling the ropes of muscle bound beneath starched folds. You broke apart just long enough to whisper the question he was waiting for. "You had to kiss this one?" You let the playful mist of a snarl hang on the air. Loki growled in response while you began working down his chin, along the long blade of his jawline. Letting the tip of your tongue run over the angle of his bone structure.

“Yes,” he rasped while you dropped lower, fastening to the slender muscle of his neck. You took a moment to appreciate his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed hard, ragged breaths ripping the air. His head fell back. “Only for a minute,” he panted to the ceiling. “It was perfunctory.”

Honestly from the god of lies, you’d found, was the greatest aphrodisiac of all.

“Where?” you asked, closing your eyes against his skin. “Against the wall,” he choked. His breaths were short. Loki’s fingernails grazed down the exposed skin between your shoulder-blades while you began to gently gyrate in circles. The god’s thick cock snaked down his thigh, ferociously hard against the tight fabric. At the mercy of your movements.

His brow creased as you slid back and forth, wetted lips parting with a needy gasp. “Did she want you?” you goaded, sliding the heel of your palm over one of his cheekbones. It raked through his hair. "Of course," he strummed, thighs beginning to tremble beneath your hips. Loki's hands ran in worship up the curve of your waist. "And did you want her?" you asked coyly. Loki pouted before a gentle tug of the camisole made your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. “Never,” he breathed; eyes flashing dangerously as he lifted them to meet yours. “Never.” You slid a hand down his torso, through the mass of white foliage ruffles which lapped against your palm in flickering candlelight. They were hard, and yet soft. Just like him. And stiff. That too, was a common attribute.

Slowly, you reached the button of his trousers. Loki thrust into the touch, biting his lip with a flinch. His brows knitted together.

One button popped beneath your fingers. Then two.

He leant forward, pushing your cleavage together and burying his face deep. The god’s nose slotted perfectly between the mounds of flesh he sought, drowning himself in the scent of you. The feel of you. His muffled moans of anticipation made you squirm on his lap, rubbing your bare pussy against his sprung manhood.

Pants and wet grunts of desire filled the air before Loki surfaced, kissing manically up the path to your lips. He consumed you again, his palm skating up the nape of your neck in a violent embrace. Waves of stiff ruffles grazed your nipples, sending electric shocks of pleasure to your dripping core. Had you ever needed him more than this? You were certain you had. But you couldn’t remember when.

Loki’s hands massaged your ass, pulling you deeper against his face. His shirt ruffles scratched your inner thighs, the tender caress making you mewl his name to the ceiling.

“Say you believe me,” he gasped in desperation.

It was a dark prayer. And a desperate one, at that. A ring of saliva was smeared across his lower face. The words chanted on repeat as your searching fingers lined him up between your slick thighs.

“Say you believe me,” he pleaded, slurring. His throat clung to the final syllable, rasping it through a torturous exhale.

The tip of his cock jarred against your slit, a sticky mess of pre-cum and arousal webbing with each slow buck. He was trembling with the effort of resistance.

He would not. Not until the ceremony of his forgiveness was complete.

You looked down at him, head resting against the back of the chair. Carefully coiffured hair now hung around his cheekbones, jutting at mussed angles. Half-lidded eyes observed you with reverence, submission. A pilgrim awaiting absolution. You smiled. Leaning in, you traced the taut vein popping in his neck. Felt every bob and tighten as he swallowed on your ascent. The little mewls from his pretty lips. And all the while, his hips rocked; cock licking and caressing your glistening sex.

The swirl of your tongue tasted bitter. Remnants of perfume from her wrists as she wound her arms around his neck, perhaps. But it would be gone soon. It always was. They always were. And you? You remained. You always did.

You reached the soft skin beneath his ear, humming a little before sucking his delicate lobe between your lips. “I believe you, baby” you whispered.

It was no more than a breath. The truth needs no more than a breath, you’d found. And with a broken sob of gratitude, Loki felt you sink deep onto his leaking cock.

Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland

[mydarlingem]

she spreads her lovin all over

i would literally let this man punch me in the face and call me a dirty whore. got my pussy screaming and shit. anyways thank u for 100 ily here is ur treat <3

cw. nsfw, making out, riding him, general slutty stuff

atsumu miya x fem reader

1k words

your boyfriend, atsumu miya has been non-stop bragging about his halloween costume since august. you were excited, of course, but was it really gonna be as good as he said? It was bound to be interesting, because if atsumu miya does one thing consistently, it's deliver.

oct 31st finally rolled around and atsumu insisted you and him get ready separately, leaving the first reveal of your costumes to be at the party, under the orange and purple lights, in some trashy frat you will never go to again. but he’s happy, so you do your hair and makeup, pick out a little outfit, and feel excited simply because it's him.

so here you are, in the kitchen of said random frat house, a slutty but still cute costume hugging your curvy figure, as you pour yourself a drink, just waiting for your boyfriend to make his appearance. he wasn’t late technically, just close to it. just as you were about to exit the kitchen, from behind you his voice yelled your name. perfect timing as always.

you turned around to be met with the sight of atsumu in a nanami kento costume. you audibly gasped, he looked good enough to fucking eat. "what do ya think?" he smiled at you, adoring the hearts in your eyes as you admired him. "you look unbelievably handsome" his strong muscles defined in the blue shirt, and slacks. the glasses on his nose reflected the lights from the party, but you could still focus on his eyes. such a simple outfit and you were rubbing your thighs together, and grabbing his hand to lead the both of you somewhere private, the upstairs bedrooms.

walking up the frat house stairs was a challenge in itself, but atsumu not being able to keep his hands off you was making it so much worse. "im gonna fall and break my neck tsumie" "but yer tits look phenomenal". at the top of the stairs, he moved you against the wall, taking a finger to tilt your head up to look at him, "ya really do look sublime" you smiled, finding yourself blushing at his compliment. "ya like that one? learned it in my lecture class today". you stifled a laugh as you slung your arms around his neck, "you’re just so smart huh" you teased, kissing the tip of his nose. "oh you know it" he replied before slamming his lips onto yours, hands finding every inch of skin of your body, desperately trying to soak it up.

as you pulled away to catch your breath, you remembered you were still standing in the middle of the hallway. brushing your costume off and grabbing his hand you hurried over to the first door and opened it, empty. walking in atsumu closed it behind you. you turned around to smile at him and lean in for a kiss, the heat just radiating off your body told him it wasn’t just a kiss.

"dying to fuck me huh" he laughed as you shoved your bodies against the door to the bedroom, clinging to him and kissing his neck feverishly. the wood against your back, the light kisses he was leaving all over you, fueled your desire for him. "tsumie please" you whined, begging him to take care of you, his favorite job. "you know ill always take care of you baby" he murmured as he kissed your sweet spot on your neck, leaving a little mark.

you moaned when the words left his lips, the vibrations on his throat, you absorbed through your skin, he was all-consuming, and you were in heaven. his lips on your neck, his cologne filling your senses as you gripped his shirt fiercely, desperately clawing at his harness needing him so badly it was all you could think about.

while you were suffering in pleasure, he seemed to be enjoying himself. taking his time to kiss your neck and shoulders, relishing in the way just a costume could make your toes curl, making you putty in his beautiful hands. "you look heavenly tonight baby, making me a little nervous" he lifted his head from your neck to kiss you. the coconut lip balm you applied not that long ago was now spread all over his mouth. he pulled away for a moment, his hair was messy, and his face was just slightly flushed but he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen. he gently grabbed your hand and led you to the bed, guiding you to sit down while he unbuttoned his pants. you gently sat down on his lap, he groaned slightly as you begin to grind on him. your nails slightly digging into his shoulders as you locked your lips with his.

he pulled away for just a moment, "i need you to ride me baby, please" atsumu was almost begging, and who were you to say no when he looked like that? you shimmied yourself off of his lap and removed your top and panties. he hurriedly removed his pants and unbuttoned his shirt just a little. you got on your knees and gave his cock a few little licks, following the small vein on the right side up to the tip. "please let me fuck ya" he moaned out, his voice cracking at the end made your heart race a little, standing up slightly to move onto his lap. his large hands moving to lock onto your waist, guiding your aching pussy towards him. you slowly started to sink down on him, each movement making your eyes roll back in your head. "atta girl yer doing so good for me" atsumu groaned as you bottomed out. a little swirl of your hips and you were prepped. you gripped onto his harness, making it easier to bounce up and down. atsumu was sure your pussy gripping him like a vice was gonna kill him, but he was ready. so maybe listening to sakusa about dressing up as nanami was the right move, but for now, atsumu will pretend he came up with this, anything to keep you bouncing on his cock.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Cryo Archon!Childe fucking his wife on their wedding night and he gets her pregnant? and he's a little yandereish like the way you write him? your work is sublime

Thank you~! I had fun writing this since I never once entertained Childe being a cryo archon but the image of him having the signature tip dyed hair was simply o(*////▽////*)q

In Snezhnaya with Love

Summary: Cryo Archon's most treasured and beloved possession was not his gnosis, but the Tsaritsa that was protected in the depths of the Zapolyarny Palace.

--

Of the current Seven, the Cryo Archon, the Tsar of Snezhnaya was famed for his glorious victories in the battlefield, a once human who vanquished gods when meeting gods and slayed demons when meeting demons. All Snezhnayans held their Cryo Archon with high regards, loved him and respected him for all the battles he had won for himself and that of Snezhnaya. They tell the story of their Archon, the second to ascend among the Original Seven, whose battle prowess was second only to Morax of Liyue.

Though no one knew their Tsar’s once mortal name, their were many monikers he went by at the times he paraded himself as a mortal; Tartaglia of the Harbingers when in Snezhnaya, Childe when in Liyue, Herrscher in Mondstadt, Wakasama in Inazuma, Le Seigneur in Fontaine, Bhagavan in Sumeru, and Kasike in Natlan. Thus, the people of Snezhnaya found no need to discover their Archon’s once name.

And you were one of them, you had no need nor want to know the Cryo Archon, the Tsar, beyond what he wanted his people to know. All that mattered was that you loved him just as your fellow countrymen did. Though you were no devout follower of the Tsar, despite your status as the heiress of 10 Noble Houses of Snezhnaya’s high society, you still carried yourself like one.

You were after all graced with his element, and your Uncle Pulcinella’s position in the Harbingers ensured that you brought no shame to the prestige of your bloodline and your status as a Cryo Vision Holder. You were the embodiment of your Archon’s ideals, Strength not only to protect one’s self and family but also to challenge the Divine.

It was the price you willingly paid to enjoy the privileges your vision and status granted you. Perhaps in another world you would have gone on and married someone not out of love but out of duty, but such thoughts flew out of the window that one summer day in Morepesok.

It had been a vacation for you, a rare moment of freedom from the prying and judging eyes of the world. You had been allowed to roam free in your Uncle Pulcinella’s vacation villa in the rural seaside village. It was one of the top tourist destinations in Snezhnaya, a town seemingly stuck in time, where the rest of Snezhnaya was filled with towering buildings and skyscrapers of metal and light, Morepesok retained the traditional houses of Snezhnaya.

A rare glimpse of the past long gone. It was during this trip that you had your fateful encounter with the young man, his orange hair with sky blue tips that gently swayed in the cold wind, and his piercing blue eyes that had taken your breath away.

He smiled at you, curious and just a touch of arrogance that let you know he knew he was handsome. Your cheeks flushed not from the cold but from embarrassment.

“Hey there, girlie~!” He called out as he trotted towards you, his hunter attire letting you know he was one of the hunters of Morepesok.

“He-hello” You greeted him back, soft and shy. Stuttering as you felt your heartbeat quicken with each step that he took towards you.

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous in this area?” He asked you, eyes glinting with cold amusement and something in you wanted to rise to his unspoken challenge.

“Oh? Was there?” You replied, “With this being part of my uncle’s villa, I doubt that there is anything here that would be dangerous to me…”

His smile fades away and you continued, “Of course even if this part of the woods is no longer a part of his villa, other than our beloved Tsar’s ire, I would be the most dangerous creature out here.”

You punctuated your words with the masterful and powerful display of your control over Cryo. The frostarm lawachurl heading towards your location toppled over, the top of their head bleeding out from the spikes of cryo that burst out from their forehead. Their dying cry had the man before you looking back and his laughter echoed in the desolate winter forest of Morepesok.

“Hahahaha!” He laughed, hands on his stomach as he bent over “Amazing, comrade! This is the first time I’ve ever seen Cryo be used in such a way! Not even the Tsar was said to be that ruthless!”

You smiled at him, sweet and pleased at his praise, “Perhaps, our beloved Tsar has yet to meet an opponent that would make him use such cruelty.”

“Interesting, I’m Ajax of Morepesok. And you...must be Pulcinella’s treasured niece” His smile turned more genuine offering his hand to you he added, “Something tells me would get along most splendidly.”

And as you gave him your hand, he brought it close to his lips, kissing it gently and you knew, as the distant sound of the waves crashing into the shore sounded in the forest, that your first defeat was in the hands of this charming young man.

And it was your sweetest defeat, you spent most of your days in his cabin, an inheritance from his deceased family, your time split between sparring with him and going ice fishing. Each moment spent made you stronger, Ajax taught you in every weapon he knew. Each touch that corrected your stance sent shivers down your spine.

And neither of you shied away from the inevitable. His touches became less innocent, less sincere in teaching you. And you took every opportunity to have skinship with him, from taking advantage of the gentle cold air to asking for his help in reeling in the ridiculously large fishes in Morepesok.

Despite the never ending cold of Snezhnaya, the distance between you and Ajax slowly melted away with each shed of layer between the two of you. In his cabin, you were just a young maiden in love, and he was just your strong lover who sheltered you from the harshness of the world.

The domesticity of your everyday life with him lulled you into a false sense of comfort, the mornings and afternoons spent with him would come to an end. Maybe, it was the knowledge that you would never be able to return to this time, or perhaps it was your reluctance to be forgotten so easily that led to this point.

The moment Ajax had kissed you against his door, you had shed all pretense of propriety. You kissed him back, tongue entangling with his as his hands ventured down and began divesting you of your clothes. Neither of you stopped kissing as your hand went to his pants and unbuckled his belt, his hydro vision dropping to the ground in sync with him removing your top that held your cryo vision.

You broke off to breath and found your neck being kissed as Ajax lifted you up and you let out a surprised gasp. Your arms automatically embraced his neck as he brought you upstairs and into his bedroom. You had no chance to look around as he gently placed you atop his soft bed.

His lips trailed down from your neck to the center of your chest down to your groin, leaving a soft trail of kisses before he began to eat you out.

Outside the window of his room, snow fell harshly and the windows softly shook with each gust of wind. Idly you wondered what had made the Tsar rage about but this thought was lost to the lust and pleasure of your love making with Ajax.

You laid on his chest, utterly spent as he curled his arm around you and gave you soft kisses atop your head. Neither of you spoke, unwilling to face the reality of your departure. But you were never one to falter from the things that you didn’t like.

You were always moving forward. Bravely facing whatever comes your way, be it life or love. So you broke the silence, because it was what you believed you owed him.

“I’m enlisting in the Fatui” Your voice soft, “This would be most likely the last time we would meet.”

You felt his hand on your waist tighten before it relaxed. You looked at him and was greeted by his warm smile.

“But not definitely” He said and your heart ached because you knew that even if you met him next time there was no chance for anything more.

“Ajax, the next time we meet, I will no longer be as I am today.”

“...”

His eyes grew cold and you found yourself underneath him, he looked at you darkly and foolishly you still found yourself lost in his beautiful eyes.

“We will meet again,” he said, voice hard and steely “and no one would be able to take you away from me.”

His kiss was hard and biting, cold and passionate, and for a moment you believed him.

“Promise me then,” You begged him as tears gathered in the edges of your eyes as you surrendered to him once more “promise me that you’ll wait for me, that you’ll fight for me and I’ll return to you and fight for you.”

“I promise” Ajax smiled, his coldness and anger melting away as he showered you with all of his love. Leaving traces of himself on you, marking you to proclaim his rightful ownership of you.

Enlisting in the Fatui and joining their ranks hadn’t been easy with the additional expectation being brought by your familial connection with one of the current Harbingers, and with that the hatred and envy of others. You didn’t care for it though, thoughts of Ajax and the life you’d have with him making it easier for you. Then again, the Fatui was a place where strength was respected and it was something you had in spades, from fighting abilities to scheming. You didn’t have the best leadership skills but that was something that could be slowly learned.

All in all, you had gritted your teeth, bore the difficulties, and slowly but surely made your way up in the ranks and into being a Harbinger. Innamorati, they called you and you it was a name you proudly wore. A name bestowed upon you by your beloved Cryo Archon, the Tsar with his bright orange hair and deep blue eyes that reminded you of Ajax.

It was surprising to see such a familiar and beloved face in that of the beloved Archon but you had learned to hide your emotions. But even as you walked away from him and went home to celebrate, the unmistakable pull you felt didn’t allow you to delude yourself completely.

You needed to see Ajax.

The trip to Morepesok was faster with the portable waypoint Ajax had made you. An easy temptation to meet him in the middle of your enlistment but one you never took. You wanted to prove yourself, and at the same time show him that you’d never easily cave, be it for him or for something else, you would keep your word. And maybe that was why the waiting figure of your Tsar, in Ajax’ clothes, had shaken your heart.

The winds howled and snow fell harshly, each step he took towards made you tremble whether it was from trepidation or something else you didn’t know but as he took a strand of your hair and held close to his lips you couldn’t help but call for him,

“Ajax?”

You felt at loss, not knowing how much of the days you spent with him were true, not knowing if his words had been meant. You wouldn’t be able to take it if it wasn’t.

“Yes, my love?” He asked, gently and comforting as he took you into his arms and held you tight enough that it hurt.

You didn’t know what to say, unable to put your feelings into words so you buried your face into his chest, held him just as tight with your trembling hands and begged him to understand what your heart wanted.

You never noticed how you remained unaffected by the cold, despite the howling winds and harshly falling snow that surrounded you. All you could think of was the feeling you held tightly as Ajax carried you inside his home, up to his bedroom and slowly but gently began to undress you.

You made no protest beyond the need to have your hand held by his. He had laughed, soft and gentle, at your clinginess but no less than pleased at it.

“I’d need my hand to properly undress you” He said even if he had no problem tearing your clothes off.

You gave him an unimpressed glance but nonetheless leaned close when he moved to take your panties off, you snuggled closer to him, holding his hand tighter. You felt your panties drop to your feet and you moved to take it off them. Ajax pushed you to sit and the bed, finding it adorable and pleasing how you easily complied.

Trusted him so much that you made no protest beyond the soft pout when he untangled your hands. He gently rolled your black thigh highs off your legs, raising one leg high to slowly and teasingly slide it off your smooth legs.

He smirked at seeing your pussy twitch ever so often, knowing that you were surely having lewd thoughts. So he pulled you closer by your legs until your pussy was just a scant few centimeters away from his face. Your breath hitched and you unconsciously wanted to close your legs but his hands stopped it and began the process of taking off your remaining thigh highs. The process barely took a minute but it felt so long that you were ready to beg him.

When your thighs were freed from your thigh highs, you spread your legs, fingers going towards your labia and spreading it wide for him to see.

“Please?” You begged, voice soft and cute as you showed him your glistening wet pussy.

And Ajax, had never been one to deny you. Spoiling you with gifts and affection until you were drunk and dizzy from it. His mouth pressed close to your cunt, tongue licking the outside, circling your clit before it made its way in. He ate you like the sweet treat that you were, holding your thighs securely as you writhed on the bed with pleasure, moans growing louder and louder with each passing minute until you were crying for release.

He was relentless in teasing you, calloused hands teasing your clit before stopping when you were on the edge of your orgasm.

“Ajax~” You cried his name, moaning and panting as his fingers fucked you “please le—ahh!”

“Aren’t you my most devoted Harbinger?” He teased, “Surely you can hold on until I order you to come?”

You nod your head with slight hesitation but it was something Ajax could forgive seeing how you were feverish with want and your earlier words of begging for his cock.

His fingers went in and out of your pussy, each thrust accompanied by the squelch of your slick, his saliva and the hydro that coated his fingers. Your pussy loosened with each passing minute as he alternated his attention to your sweet cunt and your cute clit.

When he had deemed you loose enough, he stood up and freed his cock from the tight and uncomfortable confines of pants, he let his pants and briefs drop to the floor before he climbed the bed and in one smooth motion, plunged his cock into your waiting wet pussy.

“Cum” He ordered and you did, voice a sweet melody to his ears as he fucked you through your orgasm, the loud creaking of the bed and the sound of the head board as it repeatedly slammed on the wall made you aware of your situation, as the haze of lust slightly lifted.

It didn’t do much beyond making you want to hold his hand which Ajax did, held your hand as he repeatedly rammed his cock into your pussy, slowly reaching your depths with each thrust of his cock until he let out his cum inside you, spilling it deep inside your pussy that Ajax knew that there wasn’t any impossibility you wouldn’t end up pregnant.

He softly fell on top of you, caging you beneath him as you hugged his muscular back and simply existed in that moment. His cock remained inside of you and the feeling of being connected in such a way, on having all of him touching your skin, the soft sound of his ragged breaths and his scent mixing with the smell of sex that pervaded your nose anchored you in this precise moment.

Where the world felt like it had melted away leaving the two of you alone. Neither a monarch and his subject nor a god and its believer. Just you and him, as lovers.

“Did you really mean it?” You asked, soft and preparing for the worst.

“Yes,” He answered, voice equally soft as he squeezed you tight, he continued “I meant every I love yous I said to you, every promise made.”

He kissed you on your neck, on the vein that betrayed your heart’s quick pulse. He inhaled your scent which he had missed so dearly, remembering the nights he had spent thinking of you, wondering what you were doing. The nights he laid awake missing your warmth on his side, the afternoon naps where he held you close to his heart.

He watched from afar as you slowly and steadily made your way up in the ranks, each battle won and lost that slowly shaped you into a Harbinger. He thought of the days that made him want to simply steal you away, lock you in his room until you forgot your family, your duty, and only had him in your mind.

But he stopped himself, he knew that doing so would make you lose the shine that had entranced him, he would lose the you that he came to love. The you that was bound by duty both self-imposed and ones imposed by society. So he waited, until the day came when you stood before him, surprise hidden well but he was Ajax, he was your Cryo Archon, he was your lover whom you eagerly wrote every week.

So he knew your tells better than anyone else, knew the moment it clicked in your mind, saw the trepidation behind your eyes and Ajax wouldn’t have that. He had promised you after all, and he was one to keep promises.

Even if one day you wanted to leave him, he wouldn’t allow you. He had a promise to keep after all.

In the depths of Zapolyarny Palace was a room where the Tsaritsa, the Tsar’s most beloved wife resided. It was a room filled with splendor and grace, the best and most beautiful artworks and gadgets decorated the room.

It was a room that the Tsar loved the most, and thus it was the most important room in the Palace. The best of the Fatui sans the Harbingers guarded the doors that led to the halls of the room. It was strictly guarded and meant to ensure that not a single thing would be stolen from the room.

It was after all where you resided, a place where the Tsar designated as his home. His personal haven from courtly matters and godly duties. And today was no exception, every day you spent on the room was reliving your wedding night.

The soft silk sheets that you felt on your back, the white lacy lingerie that you wore underneath your wedding gown. It’s tiny slits that showcased your exposed and erect nipples, the your cum filled pussy that dripped with your husband’s thick cum that was always replenished multiple times in a day. The soft clink of the chains that held your wrists and had your legs spread widely. The familiar sensation of your collar that held your Cryo vision, a mark of his favor and love, a seal that ensured you would remain his until you drew your last breath. The soft cotton of your blindfold had enhanced your other senses beyond compare, making you hyper aware of everything that was happening in the room.

The familiar footsteps on the warm carpet of your bedroom, the familiar rustle of his clothes as it fell softly on the ground, cape first, shirt second, belt next and lastly his pants. His warm calloused hands gently caressing the insides of your thighs.

The same routine, repeated every day at different times since you married him. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed since he blindfolded you, how long you had spent with him, the days blurred as he never removed your blindfold.

He took you apart every time and mended you back, fucking you over and over again until he felt satisfied, until your pussy felt raw, until you were begging him for sweet release, until you lifelessly laid on his chest enjoying the feel of his hard cock being warmed by your cunt.

Your apprehension melted away with each fucking, with each release of his seed inside you, until you could only demand more of his time, more of his attention, more of his cum filling you up.

You loved when he was rough with you, the harsh and loud clinks of the chain as you moaned wantonly, begging him to cum inside you, to use you as he saw fit. And each time he went along with your wishes, fulfilling each and every demand you asked of him.

You kissed him with everything that you were, unrestrained by duty or dignity, only knowing what you want as you rubbed your naked and marked body against his, you weren’t the dignified or noble Tsaritsa the public knew. In this room filled with the most prized treasures of the Tsar, you were his most precious slut.

A slut that opened your legs for him alone, a slut that presented your ass and pussy to him with eager eyes hidden by a blindfold. A slut that couldn’t wait to be filled to the brim. It was his duty, his calling as a husband and as your lover to fulfill your needs, to ram his cock again and again inside your loose pussy that held so much of his cum even when your stomach was already showing.

It was his duty to ensure that you, his lewd wife, would be filled with his cum, from your pussy, to your asshole, to those pretty pink lips that eagerly wrapped itself on his cock. He loved how you didn’t care where he fucked you in the room. He loved how different you acted depending on whether he was ramming his cock inside you on the bed, or fucking you in front of the window.

He loved the way you moaned when the table digged on your hips, the way you grasped at the cover as he slid his dick in and out of your loose pussy, cum spilling down your thighs and pooling on the floor. He loved how slutty you could get when being fucked in the bathtub, water sloshing as you repeatedly slammed your pussy down his cock, moaning loud enough that some of it undoubtedly could be heard behind the thick doors of your room.

He loved the sounds you made, pleased and eager, as he fucked your mouth in front of the fireplace, your naked body sitting on the floor while a Cryo dildo repeatedly slammed inside your pussy.

He loved you when your stomach began showing signs of pregnancy, growing big with each passing week and yet you remained unaware, or perhaps you paid it no mind.

He couldn’t tell if you were genuinely happy with the arrangement but as long as you remained by his side, happily doing what he wants, whispering I love yous and adoration in his ears. Eagerly kissing him good morning and good bye, Ajax didn’t put any thought on it.

On the ninth month of your pregnancy, the blindfold was taken off, you looked at him with love and the unmistakable look of longing.

“I missed you!” You told him, eagerly running up to hug him, and plaster your entire naked body, cum dripping down between your legs, to his.

He laughed at you, amused and loving and gently held you close, “You shouldn’t run so quickly, you’re carrying our child after all.”

You nod, and look at your bulging stomach, hand instinctively rubbing it.

“I hope this child will look just like you!”

“Is that so?” He asked a pensive look in his eyes as he rubbed your stomach.

“Yes! How lovely would it be to see a child version of you? A mini-you calling me mother!”

He smiled at you fondly, pleased to know that you still loved him. He kissed you lovingly on your lips and whispered, “As you wish.”

[hotdamnhunnam]

Raymond Smith

🐙🍄🧁

Excited to see this exquisite specimen of a man-person in relation to the above (as well as the other requests ❤️) *awaits with great [:lustful] anticipation* 💕

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

..................................................

Not Very Vanilla

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, chef!Ray fucks you in the kitchen of his restaurant, using cooking tools as sex toys ‘cause that’s what you want (nothing too weird though, like, no rolling pins up your cunt) Word Count: ~1.3k Emoji Prompt: 🐙🍄🧁 (key words are in bold)

He’s bad for business.

World-renowned chef Raymond Smith just opened up a brand new restaurant right across the street from yours. And so of course, the whole damn city has been flocking to his doorstep in full force, eager to sample all his dishes. They’re apparently delicious. But for fuck’s sake this is your street where your restaurant used to dominate the culinary scene, the finest of high-end cuisine. Yours is the best and you don’t care how good his is.

You also don’t care that he’s gorgeous. But of course he is. You storm into his restaurant well past midnight, when your place and his are both closed and he stole half of your clientele which really isn’t right, and you are furious. You came here for a fight. But then you look upon him up close for the first time and your heart stops at the sight. Cunt clenches tight.

You had heard rumors of his good looks—word is that the man looks better than he cooks—and you had seen him from afar from time to time. But in his presence you are shook. His golden beard and glimmering blue eyes behind those fashionable glasses are sublime…

Raymond knows you’re the competition. Always knew sooner or later you’d confront him. Now you’re face-to-face he knows how bad you want him. He is similarly stricken by how beautiful you are beyond believing, so he’s glad to have you here in this position. Bobs his head in greeting. “Chef Y/N—good evening. Now what brings you to my kitchen?”

God it’s hard to stay composed when your whole body is in heat. “I’ll have you know that you’ve intruded on my fucking street.”

He chuckles, and the sound makes your knees buckle. “There’s no need to be so rude. How might we fix this grumpy mood? Perhaps some food? Would you fancy a bite to eat?”

The only thing you care to swallow is his cock. That’s cumming later but for now in this moment, against your better judgment… you accept his offer ‘cause you’re starved as fuck.

***************

“Grilled Spanish octopus with crispy purple potatoes and lemon saffron emulsion.”

As Ray sets down the dish you force a grimace of repulsion. “Ugh, I’d sooner eat a spider off the floor than this eight-legged freak you’ve butchered so improperly. Look at the grill marks on this thing! Disgusting. Honestly.”

He knows that pasta is one of your specialties, so next up he’s prepared a high-carb delicacy.

“Handmade pappardelle with chanterelle mushrooms and charred summer corn topped with aged pecorino and freshly shaved truffles.”

Just like the octopus, his preparation looks and smells scrumptious. Yet you cringe in disgust and call it a plate of ‘macaroni and fungus’ as if your impression is awful.

Of everything he’s served you haven’t yet taken a bite; it’s just a point of pride but it’s been hard as hell to fight your growing appetite. Chef Ray has one more course to end the night.

“Vanilla cupcake with vanilla frosting. It’s the most innocent item on the menu and I’ll call bullshit if you try to tell me that it’s disgusting.”

Well, you can’t. It’s truly innocent. Yet still you’ll surely find a way to say something insulting.

“Vanilla isn’t my thing,” you proclaim and roll your eyes. In some sense it’s a lie because you love vanilla flavoring in baking—but when it cums to lovemaking… you prefer a little spice.

And Ray is just the same: a kinky little bastard and he has no fucking shame. This master chef is ready to get naughty now that you’ve been such a bitch to him when he’s tried to play nice.

***************

It’s like a scene out of a cooking-themed porno for fuck’s sake. Just barely begun and already this shit is more than you can take.

Your hands are tied behind your back with cooking twine, bound wrists secured near the base of your spine. A tea towel is serving the role of a blindfold knotted at the back of your head. You’re stripped naked, at Chef Raymond’s mercy and it feels divine. He knew how to get you to quit all your bitching: he has you bent over the counter right here in his kitchen, trembling and twitching, reduced to submission, while he pulls your hair back and spanks your ass red.

Soon the smooth of his palm switches over to some kind of rubbery paddle instead—you would guess it’s a spatula. Nothing about what is happening now is vanilla.

With anyone else this whole setup would surely be fucking hilarious, but Chef Smith is serious. His dominance over you is so delicious and drives you delirious.

The heat that burns from him and blooms across the softness of your skin is the most pleasurable sting you’ve ever felt… your every nerve ending becomes pure fucking butter as you melt… Ray dishes out a dozen spanks for every insult you had dealt. For the audacity of your scathing critique. His food is too good to insult, so he reminds you that this punishment is all your fucking fault. It feels like more of a reward since you’re a kinky little freak.

You came here for a competition, but it’s clear that he has won when he has you in this position. Yet he wants you to confess as much—admit that you surrender as he slays you with the power of his touch—he won’t be satisfied till you’ve made that admission.

“So you think this is your fucking street?” he rasps, owning your ass with brutal slaps, pounding it like a piece of meat. “You think you’re so important, sitting pretty with your precious little restaurant? I serve what the people want. You can’t compete.”

You know it’s true. And there’s no shame now in admitting that he owns you. In more ways than one you’re well and truly beat.

It’s a truth he wants to hear, although your whimpers of submission couldn’t make it any clearer. Leans down low over your body now to growl into your ear: “Admit that I’m superior.”

Oh he’s so cruel. He’s so damn savage and it makes you fucking drool. “Y-yes, sir…” you stutter, as he strikes you harder, takes you to the peak of perfect pleasure. “Yes. I confess.”

“Confess what?” he demands, letting the spatula fall to the tile underfoot so he can grab your reddened ass with his rough hands. “Say it you dirty little slut.”

“I—I submit,” you openly admit. Hearing ‘slut’ off of his lips just had you ruined. “I confess you’re better. You win. I surrender.”

“That’s a good girl,” Ray commends you with a snarl, groping your ravaged cheeks all sensitive and tender.

And it feels as if he’s ready to unleash his monster cock out of his pants and just attack…

But then he suddenly pulls back. Just deals your ass one final smack. Swiftly unbinds you, then removes the cloth that blinds you. You’re still sprawled out on the countertop completely numb and slack. And you groan loudly at the loss of contact, for his absence fucking aches now as he takes a few steps backward where he stands so tall behind you.

You desperately wish that your nemesis had plunged his cock deep in your soaking cunt to fucking pound you. Even at this distance still his dominance surrounds you.

Everything is done, but only for the night. There are more battles to be won, in this long fight. “I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow evening for round two.”

You’re still recovering from how well he had beaten you and bound you.

And you can’t wait to continue. The innocent vanilla cupcake that he served you may have been the tamest item on the menu… but you know for sure the sex will be filthy and definitely not very vanilla when Chef Raymond finally shoves his massive cock in you.

..................................................

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[saturnsorbits]

This piece takes no prisoners, dragging us in immediately with that wonderfully eery rhetoric question, that asks of us: 'Is there a word for bad miracles?' It's a perfect opening, one that prepares us for the journey ahead and yet, forces us to engage, putting us right in the middle of the terror that will unfold.

The atmosphere, too, is sublime. Using a deadly combination of description, atmosphere and setting, BTP manages to elicit goose-bumps on her audiences flesh. The opening paragraph alone, does more than enough to set up the story while really honing in on this delicious atmosphere as we're introduced the house in which we lay our scene: 'Stairs creak under your feet. A small gust of wind swirls around you and makes every hair on your body stand on end. Your boyfriend shines his flashlight around the dark foyer, highlighting the furniture covered with musty tarps.' And, of course discontent with leaving it there, BTP finishes off her opening with another beautifully eery sentiment: that 'Whoever lived out [there] clearly thought they were coming back. Until they didn't.'

Then, in a stroke of genius, this atmosphere is mollified and twisted, used instead as a backdrop as we meet with Reader and he boyfriend, Bakugo Katsuki. The banter and relationship established between these two is flawless and the perfect salve for all of that horror. Lines like 'I swear to God if you're trying to scare me' and 'Our anniversary is Halloween, I'm sticking with the fucking theme' couples with the event, a proposal and beautiful night spent in a haunted house. It's wonderful, a fun break, but then... Then, reality all comes crashing back.

The atmosphere is flipped back. All too soon all of that joy and delicate humour evaporates, turning quickly on its head as BTP performs another fete. The control and depth of these atmospheric turns is truly a mark of a good writer, and this piece doesn't miss a single beat – with the appearance of a demon and one, bone chilling line: 'A virgin.'

From there we are wrapped up, caught tight as Dabi proceeds to have his way with Reader. He proves to be the perfect blend. He is terrifying, yes, but with lines like 'Bealzebub below, are you dating a parrot or a woman', he proves to be so much more than your average scare. Fleshed out and rounded, our demon friend is the perfect culmination.

Of course, it isn't just us that feels this way as we're catapulted onto a short step into the future to Reader, once again, summoning Dabi. After all, it's true isn't it... We have 'miss[ed him], already.'

Bakugou x F!Reader, Demon!Dabi x F!Reader Word Count: 3.4k

!!: sex, noncon, virginity, fingering, oral, spanking, ‘good girl’

A/N: And to round out kinktober 2023, something more than 100 words

Is there a word for bad miracles?

Stairs creak under your feet. A small gust of wind swirls around you and makes every hair on your body stand on end. Your boyfriend shines his flashlight around the dark foyer, highlighting the furniture covered with musty tarps. Whoever lived out here clearly thought they were coming back… until they didn’t.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, “Why did we have to come out here?”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid now,” Bakugou scoffs.

You watch the flashlight beam sweep across a corner laced with cobwebs. “It’s… creepy.”

“Come on,” he says and keeps climbing the staircase. “I got a surprise for you upstairs.”

“I swear to god if you’re trying to scare me.”

From the top of the stairs, the flashlight turns on you and illuminates your face. “Remember when we first started dating? Your profile said you liked adventure.”

“Yeah,” you cross your arms over your chest. “Hiking and shit, not abandoned houses.”

“C’mon, you’ll like it. I promise.” He walks down the hall, and when an eerie feeling settles over you from being alone, you run up the last couple steps to catch up to him.

Bakugou turns a door knob. You brace yourself for one of his friends to pop out from behind and scare the shit out of you. He walks in, and you take a hesitant step forward. Warm, soft lights come on.

Peering in, you let out a soft ‘oh’ before relaxing. In the middle of the room is a neatly made bed covered in rose petals. You recognize the plush comforter from Bakugou’s closet back at his apartment. The man in question walks around the room lighting white votive candles – some in equally small, carved pumpkins and others in glass holders. 

“Not so scary now, is it?”

“Katsuki,” a blush crawls up your cheeks. “Did you do all this?”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t let anyone else do it.” He lights the last candle before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you.

“Why not a hotel or something?” you blurt out.

“Really?” he raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to nag about where I chose to go?”

“It’s just that it’s so romantic and everything else about the house is… not.”

“Our anniversary is Halloween. I’m sticking with the fucking theme.”

“We could’ve gone to an amusement park-” you start to protest.

Bakugou’s brows furrow together. “Why’re you stalling?”

“What?”

“You’re stalling.”

“I-”

“Damn it,” Bakugou runs a hand through his hair. “Kirishima was right, this was stupid. You hate it.”

“Katsuki, I don’t hate it, but there’s a bed in the middle of the room! And you know I’m saving myself for…” Your voice trails off. Saying it outloud, here, in the abandoned house, makes it seem so childish.

Bakugou’s rough thumb strokes your cheek. “I know you’re saving yourself for marriage. Which is why-” he slowly sinks down to his knee and pulls out a small velvet box. “-I was hoping you would say yes to marrying me.”

“Oh my god!” You slap a hand over your mouth. Through the tears welling up in your eyes, you can barely make out Bakugou’s hopeful expression as he waits with bated breath for your answer. Nodding, you hold out your left hand and let him slide the ring on with shaky fingers. “Yes, oh god, yes!”

You pull Bakugou to his feet and stare at the ring, a new comfortable weight on your finger. “I’m still waiting until we’re married,” you choke out as he wipes away the tears.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groans and pulls you close. “But there’s other things we can do here.” His lips press against yours. You relax into it, your body softening against his.

It starts as a distant rumble, something you could pass off as a car in the distance. But when the lights start to flicker and the house shakes, you and Bakugou break apart. An earthquake? Right now? Bakugou grabs your hand and mutters something about needing to leave before the place falls in on itself. 

Black smoke swirls from floor to ceiling in front of the two of you and all the air in the room is sucked in by the vortex. Bakugou’s arm stiffens under your vice like grip. When the smoke falls away, a man with jet black hair stands where the vortex was. Scarred skin covers a majority of his arms and upper part of his torso, but what stands out against that are his unsettling turquoise eyes that seem to glow from within.

“Mortals,” a gravelly voice snarls, “You dare to disturb my resting place?”

The more you stare, the less… human the man seems – if you can even call him a human. His ears, pierced with silver, are elongated and pointed, almost like one of the aliens from a sci-fi show Bakugou had you watch. And is it your imagination, or are there puffs of smoke escaping his body where scarred and unscarred skin meet?

But the cherry on top, the features that make all the alarm bells ring in your head, are a pair of white horns standing out against his dark hair. 

“Back the fuck off.” Bakugou puts his arm out protectively in front of you — as if that would protect you from whatever the fuck this thing is. 

“And what are you going to do about it?” the man sneers. With a flick of his clawed fingers, Bakugou flies away from you and slams into the wall. Hands splayed, he scrabbles to find purchase as he slides upwards.

“Let him go!” you scream, “Please! Let-”

As you take a step forward, Bakugou coughs, his words strained. “Get outta here.”

“Katsuki, no, I can’t leave you here!”

“Get. Help.” That jumpstarts something in your brain. Help. Right. Help. You don’t even get one step when the door slams closed. You freeze like a deer in headlights. The demon – you decide this as your mind catches up with the last thirty seconds, it’s the only thing that makes sense – turns his attention to you. He raises his other hand and you brace yourself to fly against the wall like Bakugou had.

“Hell, what is that scent. I haven’t smelled this since…” He trails off. Inhaling deeply, his eyes burn bright, an ethereal blue you can’t stop staring at. “A virgin.”

Bakugou lashes against his invisible restraints, but you remain rooted to the spot. 

A virgin. 

“You. You’re my ticket out of this shithole.” He stalks around the room. Turquoise eyes glow with excitement and rove up and down your body. “A virgin sacrifice will get me out of here.”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”  Kill you? Where are these words coming from? You don’t want to fucking die here! You certainly can’t fight this thing. Now is not the time to find false confidence. 

“Kill you?” His sharp laugh grates your skin like broken glass. “Why would I kill you when I could have my way with you?”

Blood drains from your face, leaving you lightheaded. “Have your way with me?”

“I intend to take your virginity, babe,” he smirks, “I’m outta here if I fuck you.”

“Fuck me?”

“Beelzebub below, are you dating a parrot or a woman?” the demon laughs at Bakugou. Turning to face you, all humor leaves the demon’s face. He makes a zipping motion with his fingers. “If all you’re gonna do is repeat what I say, then I don’t want to hear a single sound come out of you.”

Maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s demonic power, but one way or another you’re paralyzed as the demon walks over to you. He drags one of his claws down your cheek and hooks it at the top of your shirt. Acrid smoke fills the air as his finger cuts away your clothes. Your shirt and bra — a black lace specially picked out for Bakugou — fall to the floor, leaving your tits exposed to the cool air of the room. Your pants and panties follow suit and you close your eyes as both the demon and Bakugou drink in your naked form. 

Sharp nails drag across your skin as he circles you – thankfully painless and leaving no cuts like he did your clothes. The demon’s hand cups one of your breasts as if appraising it before trailing down your stomach and across your ass. 

This can’t be happening.

He’s talking, but it’s not to you, and you tune him out.

Please, please. Someone help us.

Bakugou struggles against the wall and the demon cackles before slinging more taunts.

If there is a god out there, please help me.

The demon’s hand smacks your ass with a satisfying smack. Silent tears roll down your cheek.

No one will come and save you.

Your head is viciously jerked to the side and you can make out the demon’s face inches from your own through your tearstained vision.

“I said,” he says softly, “Let’s give your precious boyfriend a show.” His hand slithers down your stomach and parts your folds. You shudder against his touch. 

No. No, no, no, no. 

His fingers graze your clit, sending a bolt of electricity to your core. Bile rises in your throat.

Please god no. Don’t let him touch me. This is humiliating enough.

There’s a chuckle in your ear. The demon presses a finger against your entrance and slowly eases in. Your mouth opens in a silent sob. He teases you, strokes your walls with a ‘come hither’ motion. 

You hate that you can feel him writhing around inside you. You hate that he’s gone farther than Bakugou ever had. But most of all, you hate that you can feel yourself loosening up for him; getting wetter for him. 

A second finger slides in. Bakugou glares at the demon but doesn’t look away. Can he not look away? Is he stuck watching you get fucked against your will?

A forked tongue wraps around the demon's fingers when he drags them out of you and holds them up for Bakugou to see – clear strings of arousal lapped up.

“Have you even tasted her?” he taunts, “She’s divine.” Bakugou’s gaze flits from you to the demon, his cheeks turning beet red. There’s no retort from him.

With a wave of the demon’s hand, the bed in the middle of the room slides closer to Bakugou. The demon takes your hand and leads you over.

A front row seat to your first time. Rose petals flutter around you as you bounce onto the bed. The bed Katsuki prepared. Your legs are knocked apart, and you watch in silent horror as the demon strokes his cock mere inches from you.

“Watch, mortal, as I take your girlfriend’s fucking virginity.” His glowing eyes turn back to you. The head of his cock presses against your entrance. You don’t want this. You were saving yourself for the man you planned on marrying. You were saving yourself for Katsuki. And now he has to watch this.

You should be embarrassed.

You should feel shame.

You should feel anything except… needy arousal.

You can’t even look away as he pushes in. Your voice may be gone, but you inhale sharply as his cock splits you open. It’s not what you thought it would be. There’s no pain, no uncomfortable tearing sensation; just a stretching that leaves you dazed and overwhelmed. 

“Fuck,” the demon hisses, “I forgot how good virgins are.” Large hands wrap around your waist and pull you further down on his cock. You bite your lower lip. Maybe the pain can distract you from how your blood is roaring inside you.

It’s not until he’s buried all the way inside you that his eyes flash a brilliant blue. He holds you against him, his mouth slightly agape. His whisper barely reaches your ears. You wouldn’t have known he was talking if you weren’t watching his mouth move.

“I’m free.”

You lay on your back unmoving. If he’s free then he could leave. He could walk out of the house and leave you and Bakugou alone. This nightmare could end.

“You fucked her, now let her go!” Bakugou’s shout causes the demon’s blissful peace to crumple into a snarl.

“Your pretty lady set me free, the least I can do is give her a good fuck to remember me by,” he smirks. His hands slide up the back of your legs and hook under your knees. Pushing them towards your chest, he leans in, somehow pressing deeper into you. Your breath hitches and your mouth falls open. 

Shit. 

If you had your voice, you know a needy moan would’ve filled the room.

All that leaves your mouth though is a sharp exhale. But he knows. He heard. You close your eyes to school your features. The moment you open them, his eyes, blazing with desire, are locked on yours.

He knows.

There’s an intimacy that brings a blush to your face as he fucks you slowly, his eyes still holding your gaze. Neither of you can look away. His cock kisses your cervix and when you think it can’t get any better, he shifts slightly, changing the angle. The demon leans in, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your neck

“You taste so good, babe. I can taste your fucking arousal. If I give you back your voice, will you be a good girl for me?” His teeth graze your skin, sending shivers down your skin. You nod, slowly at first – like the way the demon thrusts into you – then more emphatically as he speeds up.

“I want you screaming my name,” he murmurs in your ear, “I want to hear you screaming for Dabi.” His lips lock on yours, his tongue pressing against your lips. You can’t even pretend to put up a fight; you spread your lips and meet his tongue in the middle.

A trail of spit connects his mouth to yours when he pulls back.

“Say my name.”

“Dabi,” you croon with a worn out voice. You’re rewarded with the entire length of his dick pulling out and pushing back into you.

“Again.”

You say his name louder.

Each iteration louder than the last is rewarded with a torturously slow thrust.

But you need more. You squirm beneath him, angling your hips, anything to entice him to fuck faster. And the fucker has the audacity to slow down. 

“C’mere, Princess.” Dabi wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and rolls the two of you over. “I want to see these lovely tits of yours bouncing.” You arch your back as his claws trail down your back and settle at your waist. He lifts you up and down his cock, helping you get a rhythm before you take over.

The pressure building in your core has you bouncing frantically on him – you’d felt it before when you used toys and your fingers to bring yourself pleasure, but this is something more. Something toe curling. Something that has you digging your fingers into his forearms. His dick is able to hit the right places you could never get, barely satiating a newfound need deep within you.

“Hold on, Princess,” Dabi groans and effortlessly holds you above him, the tip of his cock barely inside you. You whimper at the loss of contact and try to fight his grip. “I want this to last as long as possible, so take a seat up here.”

Apparently your dumbfounded expression is hilarious since he starts laughing.

“Up here, babe.” His tongue flicks out between a scarred bottom lip and an unscarred upper lip. When you still look unsure, he hauls you up and settles your legs on either side of his face. He trails kisses up your inner thigh, each one inching closer to your core.

“Don’t worry, babe, I won’t break.”

He locks your legs against his face and you have no choice but to seat yourself against his mouth.

He has you gasping the moment his tongue flicks out. Your hands run through his hair as he laps at you, each stroke adding to your overwhelming passion. Grabbing onto hair and horn – really whatever is within your grasp, you pull yourself against him and spread your legs further. 

A chorus of ‘please’ and ‘more’ fall from your lips like a desperate prayer as Dabi’s tongue swirls around your sensitive nerves.

It’s not until you lean back so his tongue can delve inside you that you feel guilt. Crimson eyes locked onto you in disbelief silences your intoxicated begging. He might as well have poured ice water over you. 

You forgot about him.

You forgot your fiance was pinned to the wall, watching you enjoy a demon’s cock.

Every moment, every sound forever etched into his mind as you stopped fighting and gave in to temptation.

A sharp nip on your inner thigh brings you back to Dabi. You tear your gaze away and pull back to see the forked tongue you were enjoying so much laving the pinpricks left from his teeth.

“As much as I want you to come on my tongue, I’d rather have you creaming on my cock.”

He rolls you off his face and onto your back.

Obediently, you spread your legs, one hand creeping down to continue where he left off. The buzz running throughout your body increases with every enticing swirl of your fingers around your clit. 

“I want to come, Dabi,” you mewl. 

He laughs, the sound no longer shards of glass against your skin. “How can I refuse since you asked so nicely.”

He sinks inside you with a single stroke and you wrap your legs around his hips. Dabi’s fingers swat your hand away before taking over, his hand possessively splayed over your mound as his thumb works on your clit. Your hands twist in the comforter and rose petals as you drown in impending pleasure. 

“Who does this cunt belong to?” Dabi growls.

“You,” you whisper.

Correct, but not enough. There’s no rewarding thrust of his dick. 

“Who?” He raises an eyebrow. You know what he wants. You’re teetering on the precipice of orgasm, and every second he’s not fucking you, the feeling slips ever so slightly.

“You, Dabi!” You clench around him, desperate to keep your high. A clawed hand digs into your waist slightly and pulls you flush against him.

“Who’s the only one you’re going to fuck?” he hisses, turquoise eyes narrowing.

“You, Dabi!” you wail, the electric feeling building up, almost uncontainable. “I belong to you!”

“Good girl,” he growls and fucks into you again, “Come for me.” His words – his permission – wash over you and release the pent up feeling. Your orgasm rips through you, an intensity you’ve never felt before. No toy or even your own fingers could compare – would compare ever again.

Dabi’s hips smack against your own once, twice more before pressing flush against you. Heat pools in your lower abdomen and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. A part of you wonders if sex is always like this, but an even smaller part of you knows that it’ll only be this good when you’re with Dabi.

He untangles from you and leans over, panting slightly. He presses a surprisingly chaste kiss to your cheek before his lips ghost over your skin to your ear.

“Left you a parting gift, Princess,” he purrs, “If you ever want to see me again, just look in a mirror and say my name three times.”

The bedroom door flies open and Dabi looks your blissed out form over one last time before walking out.

When the front door slams closed, Bakugou is released and falls to the floor. He rushes to you, his hands clenching and unclenching as he hovers at the edge of the bed. Worry pushes his brows together.

All he can do is watch.

It’s up to you to break the silence.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki,” you pant, “I said I was saving myself for the person I was going to marry.” 

One Week Later

You look yourself over in the bathroom mirror, adjusting your light blue bra. Pushing moving boxes out of the way, you nod to yourself encouragingly.

No time like the present.

“Dabi,” you whisper. Your irises flash a brilliant turquoise for a second. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Dabi.” You swear you can feel his claws ghosting over your skin.

“Dabi.” The lights flicker for a moment before going out completely. The only thing visible in the mirror is the thin blue ring around your irises – until another pair or ethereal blue eyes just over your shoulder joins them. Sharp nails dig into your arms.

A deep voice chuckles in your ear. “Miss me already?”

banner image by /mwrona on unsplash

[rcksmith]

The sin you make me commit. — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “omg i’ve been reading everything in ur acct, i love ur writing sm! could you do fluff 27 and smut 6 and 95 for five?”

“hello, love. can i request five hargreeves with fluff prompt 50 and smut prompt 54 if it's alright with you? thank you 💓”

Fluff prompts:

27. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

50. “She don’t compare to you. No one does.”

Smut prompts:

6. “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

54. “Come sit on my face, let me show you how much I missed you.”

95. “What are you doing in my bed?!”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Thank you for requests💖 I hope you guys like💖 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Resume: You're Diego's best friend, but Five desires you to much.

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem!Reader.

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty talk, fluff too. Smut smut.

— — — — —

Liking Five Hargreeves was ... stressful. If you could define all the whirlwind of feelings and emotions, you would use that word. Okay, maybe you would use two words: stressful and exciting.

Exciting because Hargreeves looked like an angry young god. Always with a malicious smile, a penetrating look and an energy that made any environment submit to him. Everyone felt the intense vibration that emanated from every inch of that tall, slim and thin 28-year-old body.

The dark hair like sin and the white skin like alabaster brought a sublime contrast, making your mind sail through dangerous and turbulent waters. Everything about him turned you on like hell. The voice was hoarse and arrogant, the laughter boastful, the posture of all that tall body. It was too much for you.

But everything about him also stressed you out like hell. Five Hargreeves was unbearable. And just as he was aware that he possessed an overwhelming beauty, he also knew that he was exasperating. And Five don’t give a shit for it.

But it wasn't just the personality that took you seriously. It was the girls. Five had half the women of that city wrapped around him finger, at the mercy of whatever desire he had, giving himself up on a gold tray if he asked.

Jealousy. It was clear and perfect what you felt. Jealousy so visseral that you rolled your eyes every time you were in the Hargreeves' kitchen, drinking coffee with Allison and Diego, and you saw Five appear with a purple hickey on his neck.

You had to control every fiber of your being so as not to break the mug that you were holding, so strong that you squeezed the porcelain. It was unbearable. Unbearable because you wanted him madly. With every cell of your being.

It is unbearable because you couldn't have him.

Truth be told, an involvement with Five would cause a hubbub. You are a friend of Diego's for a long time. The two of you met at the police unit, when You were recruited after graduating from college at the age of 22. Diego had been assigned to be you partner and, although he was pissed off at first because he practically had to babysit, the two of you ended up becoming inseparable.

The years passed, the friendship became stronger and, when Diego was expelled from the police, you were there to help him in any way he needed. And that only boosted friendship even more. Diego Hargreeves was a strong, stubborn and very determined man. Somewhat possessive of the people he loved, since in childhood he never had many things to hold on to and love. So when any light went through the dark room that was his life, Diego clung to that light.

Because that, you know that any romantic involvement with any of Diego’s brothers would awaken the volcano in the knife man. He would be possessed if he found out that one of the brothers was fucking his best friend. Besides, unfortunately, Diego was smart and astute enough not to notice any changes from you with Five if you chose to do something hidden.

So it was better to avoid the drama.

But, avoiding the eruption Diego, was triggering an eruption within you. A very specific and atrocious fire.

And that was exactly what you were feeling right now. Seeing Five walking down the steps of the mansion, his hair disheveled, his clothes slightly rumpled and hickey marks around his neck. If that were not enough to denounce the wild night he had had, the woman who came down behind him would have been enough. Her black dress was wrinkled, her makeup smudged and she carried heels in her hands.

It inflated a colossal jealousy inside you, setting fire to all your nerve endings.

The girl was still beautiful. Stupidly beautiful. Even with the shambles of last night, her blond hair still retained its incandescent shine and her long catwalk legs were stunning.

You snorted, rolling your eyes and making your way back to the kitchen once again.

“I arrived.” You held out the bag of donuts to Diego, who hurriedly opened it.

“How much delay.” He grunted as he stuffed a donut in mouth and turned to the counter, returning with two mugs “Your coffee.”

It was a kind of ritual between the two of you. It started at the police station, when you were still working together, you offered donuts for him and Diego coffee for you. And as the years went by it ended up becoming a symbol of friendship. You brought the food and Diego the drink. Always.

When he was fired, the two of you moved the tradition to his home. That was when the Hargreeves brothers met you, and your presence at the mansion became so normal that you didn't even have to knock on the door anymore, just like Diego at your apartment. After four years of friendship, you and Diego were still there. Unshakable. And maybe that was one of the things that kept you from giving Five any openness too.

“Is it just me or are these donuts getting worse and worse?” Diego complained, and you rolled your eyes.

“You tell me that since our patrols.”

“Because it is true.” He stuffed another candy in his mouth.

“And you still eat all of them.”

“One day I'm going to make a machine donuts my bitch and make better donuts than these.”

You laughed and, when you answered, a blue flash flashed in the kitchen and Five Hargreeves was opening the refrigerator.

You held your breath.

“Don't you have anything decent to eat in this house?” Five grunted and turned to you and Diego, stopping eyes on the donuts

“Do not even think…”

Diego warned, but it was too late, Five had teleported to his brother and snatched the candy from his hand, taking a big bite.

“Bitch.” Diego grunted.

“Good morning, my dear brothers!” Klaus entered the room, smiling and covered in a black feather overcoat. “My brother's dear girlfriend.” He winked at you.

You choked on your coffee, or Diego, or both.

“She's not my girlfriend.” Diego defended himself.

“But I was not referring to you.” Klaus countered and this time it was Five who choked on a piece of donut.

You caught something in the air, something that went down your spine and injected an icy sensation into your heart. A feeling that there was something deeper in those words. Something you didn't know what it was about.

But from the way Five gave Klaus a look that contained the promise of apocalypse, you felt that the two brothers knew very well what it was about.

Diego frowned and looked at you, but you made a gesture with the shoulders and the eyebrows of someone who also didn't understand anything. Then he took it as just another one of the senseless things Klaus said and shrugged, turning to you again.

“Are you going to work on that case today?”

You agreed, drinking your coffee.

“Yes, I managed to find more clues about the dealer.”

“The ones in the alley, isn't it?”

You smiled, are nice and light the way Diego and you had the same line of reasoning, almost like an internal language. He could tell exactly what was going through your head. And all him siblings could see that, too.

Five could see that. And that was the main reason he fucked that blonde until he lost his mind. Discounting all the anger he had felt for months.

Five felt so wrong. So dirty. A bastard of the worst kind for lusting after his brother's best friend so... intensely. Only the devil knew how many times Five touched himself thinking of you, remembering your legs in that tight skirt and high heels, or the moments, like today, when you appeared with a white dress shirt, so tight that your breasts were so marked that it barely left work for the imagination.

Fucking hell! You are a fucking mirage!

“Exactly. I'll tell you later how it was today.”

You smiled at Diego and took your bag from the table, hanging it from the arm fold and drink the rest of your coffee.

Diego stuck another candy in his mouth and stretched his left hand towards you, saying with his mouth full:

“Your collar is crooked again.” He pointed and took his fingers to your collar, tidying up the white fabric

Five squeezed donut himself so tightly that he felt it break in his fingers. God! That was the worst part! When someone touched you. He knew that for Diego and you it was completely normal. Your friendship was very strong, but that didn't stop Five from burning inside.

“Thanks” You smiled and pulled a donut out for you while saying goodbye to everyone and left the mansion.

Diego left the kitchen seconds later, leaving only Klaus and Five there.

“If you made any move, she would be more with you.” Klaus scoffed as he pulled an orange juice.

Five rolled his eyes. Klaus was the only one who knew about his secret crush on you. It wasn't like he said it, but Klaus realized that he was looking at you much more closely, that he held breath when you were too close. And that he always drowned in a night of drinking and casual sex when he saw Diego much near you.

“Shut up.” He stuffed what was left of the candy in mouth.

“Why don't you talk to her? It's not like she's a seven-headed monster. ”

“She is Diego's best friend.” Five pointed out the obvious and Klaus shrugged.

“So? You two are adults, it’s not like you’re in high school.” He drank the juice “I bet Diego would fuck some of your a hottie’s friends if you had any. You two don't need him permission to have sex. ”

Five rolled his eyes.

“Even if I did that. And it doesn't mean that I will!” He pointed to his brother “But even if I did, Y/N never gave any indication that she wants anything.”

“Oh for god's sake” Klaus laughed “Didn't you notice how she looks at you? It is so intense. As if she was undressing you with eyes. It's very hot, actually. ”

Those words rang in Five's mind all day. All afternoon. Blundering any common sense he once had.

Was he so oblivious to your eyes? Five tried so hard not to catch fire when he was close to you that he might have missed the signs of how you felt.

What if he did make a move with you? What if you wanted that too?

It's not like Five wants to hurt Diego. Or if Five had chosen his brother's best friend just because he was a bastard. No, Five didn't wake up on a beautiful day and thought: “Hm, I'm going to fuck my brothe’s best friend.” Do not.

Five was human. And any human with good eyes and a little common sense would be overwhelmingly attracted to you. And besides, they were not children. Diego would be fine.

As Five placed a stone in the dilemma called “Diego”, a colossal wave of indecent images of you sank Five into the deepest ocean. Invading him entire system and injecting all those months of insane desire into his veins again. Now in full force.

Every night Five fucked senseless any woman, just to close his eyes and imagine that it was you. That it was your moans, that was your hot body, your broken kisses. So many months of high denial and physical torture would now explode like an atomic bomb in his system. It physically hurt not to touch you. It was like missing something he never had. Being addicted to a drug he had never tried.

But today Five was going to overdose.

It was one in the morning when Five Hargreeves made a decision. When his whole body burned with his own lustful desire, screaming for him to seek some relief. And it was one in the morning when Five teleported to your apartment, specifically in your bed.

Five didn't know what to expect by going there. He was so overwhelmed with his own emotions that he didn't stop to think about call you phone like a normal human being.

No. He needed to see you. Right now. A long time of self-denial mess a man's head.

Five Hargreeves considered himself to be a very articulate human being, a genius, unshakable. But as soon as he saw you come out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he would never be able to say anything even if him life depended on it.

As soon as your eyes landed on you, you screamed, jumping two steps back and widening eyes.

“Five? My God, what a scare!” You tightened the towel around your body “What are you doing in my bed ?!”

He swallowed, mind too focused on you to think of any decent response. In fact, there was not one. Five was being as intrusive as possible, and he realized how much you messed with the reasoning in him. How much you messed up and played with him brain.

Five should have said something. Anything. But what he said was: “It's late. Shouldn’t you be asleep? ”

You laughed, a little shocked, a little puzzled.

“Answering my question with a question?" You laughed “Did you forget that I'm a cop?”

Oh no. He never forgot that. In fact, that title just made him want to turn you on your desk and fuck you until you shout him name. Five gave a smile at that thought.

"I needed to talk to you." Then he got up from the bed and went towards you.

Five noticed the exact moment when your breath evaporated. When your skin prickled, your chest rose and fell more intensely, pupils dilated. He was one inches away from your hot body when he saw the delicious blush spread over your angel cheeks. You had such a sweet face!

God, he wanted to break you!

"Wh-what did you want to talk to?" Your voice faltered, and Five realized that Klaus was right.

Oh yes, you wanted him too.

Five drew suspense, raising hand and brushing him fingers along your arm damp from the hot bath water, your skin crawling. You looked like a goddess like that. So disconcertingly beautiful.

"You are so Beautiful." He couldn't keep that thought to himself, and you blushed “I thought you were beautiful from the second I saw you.”

You lost your breath, clasping your hands on the towel, pressing it on your body, your fingers trembling just like your heart. Five's hand went up to your neck, touching your warm skin and running her palm up to your cheek.

“I have been wanting you for so long.”

“You do?” You sighed back, leaning over him touch.

“Every fucking day.”

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. Five found it funny, as if it were possible that there was some reality in which he didn't want you so badly. His touch on your skin became firmer, and he moved closer.

“Did you think I didn't want you?”

“Yes” You said “You never did anything, and you've always been with so many women.” Five noticed that you contained an eye roll “Like today's blonde.”

“She don’t compare to you. No one does.” Now he placed both hands on your cheek, gluing your two body, him height being much greater than you.

That seemed to be the right answer, because you responded by canceling the space between the two of you, sticking your mouth to his. Five sighed, as if he had taken water after years in the desert, pressing the touch. You tasted much better than he ever imagined, and when your tongue brushed him, he sighed again.

Five Hargreeves had all the women wrapped around his finger. But only you had he wrapped around your finger.

You put your hands up to his black hair, dropping the towel that collapsed on the floor. You thought that you would be the most anxious person there, that it was you who wished all this time with the greatest ardor. But Five proved you were wrong. The aching groan he gave when he touched your naked body was the greatest proof you needed to know that it was he who had been burning for months in a fierce fire.

Five memorized every bit of you as if it were going to be him favorite memory, rising his hands to your breasts and biting your lower lip as he squeezed your hot flesh. You groaned, or it was him. Or both.

“You are so fucking delicious.” He snarled in your mouth, dropping left hand down your belly, making you clasp your hands in him arms, needing more.

“F-five." You sighed, the core throbbing.

“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” Five lowered his mouth to your ear, finding yours smooth folds and swallowing a snarl when he felt how wet you were.

"Y-yes." You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and rummaging around in his hand, desperate.

"Oh, what a dirty little thing.” Then he stuck a finger in your slippery entrance, and you screamed out loud, sobbing and clenching your nails in his flesh. But as fast as he entered he left, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness and a loud grunt “Patience, doll.”

Five pulled you onto the bed, climbing on top of her and guiding you. You went, and followed the commands when he lay down and pulled your waist to him face.

“I need to taste you, doll.” His hands traveled to yours breasts and squeezed them, eliciting a loud groan from you as you shook your head. “Come sit on my face, let me show you how much I missed you.”

"A-anything you want."

Those seemed like the right words, because Five snarled and stuck his hands on your hips, pulling you into him mouth. The warm lips grabbed your pulsing core, making you scream softly as he ate you like a hungry man. Five squeezed the ten fingers on your hips with absurd strength, leaving you not a single inch apart. He feast on your wet pussy, moaning against your necklace as you sobbed loudly and saw stars.

You dropped your hands into him black hair, curling your fingers as you arched your back, closing your eyes tightly as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

“Cum to me, baby.” Five snarled at her clit, and you couldn't control a desperate moan.

“Five!" You screamed when Five dipped his tongue inside you, activating your orgasms that came in long strokes, making you shiver in him mouth.

You don't have time to breathe, to reason, to get out of the cloudy wave of climax. Five pulled your hips to the side, throwing you on the bed and climbing onto his body like a hungry animal. He stuck his lips to yours, making you taste your own as you slid him hands down your thighs, pulling them to line up on him hips.

“F… five…” You gasped, sinking your nails into him back, following him mouth with yours when he pulled away, not letting the desperate kiss go away.

“Delicious little thing.” He snarled, dropping his hands to his belt as he quickly unbuttoned his pants.

Your hands went to him shirt, not having much patience to take care of each button, eventually pulling the cloth with both hands and breaking the remaining buttons.

“Someone here is desperate” Five scoffed, a malicious smile, but him hands worked so fast that you thought that if Five could now change his powers to make the clothes disappear, he would change without hesitation.

“Please." You pleaded, your eyes pleading to have it all.

Five snarled in an animalistic intonation, pulling his dick out of his underwear and lining up at your extremely wet entrance, going in at once, sinking to the bottom of the well, hitting his groin on your swollen clitoris.

You screamed, digging your nails into him skin and arching your back.

"Oh my God!” You moaned loudly, losing your breath for the strength that Five set up the thrusts.

He would hit your body on the bed, leaving you trapped between him body and the mattress, claiming everything that was yours as his. Five pulled a hand to your throat, squeezing there and sticking his mouth to the foot of your ear.

“It is not God, darling. It's me.” He snarled, hitting your walls more brutally.

The sounds in the room were purely pornographic, you and Five were moaning loudly, hitting the headboard against the wall aggressively and assiduously. You would definitely get a fine from the condo for the noise. But, fuck!

You brought your mouth up to Five's, swallowing him moans and muffling your own, wrapping your legs around him hips and pulling him deeper, hitting all yours hot, leaky walls.

Tears pooled in the corner of yours eyes, and Five felt himself ignite with that. He couldn't take much, fucking hell! You were fucking hot. Delicious.

"Such a good pussy!” He groaned on your lips, moving his fingers down to your clit and setting an intense rhythm, making your walls contract against his dick and you scream louder.

“I-I will… I will…!”

“You can cum, baby. I got you!” Five kept his movements and fingers on your clit, making you explode for the second time that night.

He pulled the air between his teeth as he felt your cum spread on his dick, sending all the rest of his sanity into space. Five stuck both hands on your hips, kneeling on the bed and fucking you with absurd force and brutality, shoving as deep as possible inside you and stopping there, pouring all the hot liquid into your deepest centimeter.

You sobbed, rummaging your hips slyly, making sure you took every last drop of it. Five let out a loud breath, coming back at you in breathless searches for air, allowing your hearts to calm down.

"Wow." You laughed softly, tiredly, and Five lifted his head and laughed softly.

“I have wanted this for so long.” He confessed, kissing you again just because he could, not leaving you yet.

“Diego is going to kill us.” You groaned, squinting.

"It will be our secret.” Five kissed down your neck, his hands roaming your body.

You sighed, your body relaxing in him hands. Five looked at you again before saying:

"So... do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow?"

You laughed out loud, putting your arms around him neck and nodding.

“Of course."

[onthemerits]

today's mood: thinking about sirius and regulus' relationship in the context of "bigger than the whole sky" re regulus' death

I'm never gonna meet What could've been, would've been What should've been you

and it has me sobbing so i drafted a scene for my fic, Aught of the Sublime:

(cw discussion of sibling death, drinking)

“I know its different for you, but it feels like he’s stuck behind me.” Sirius was staring at nothing. Or maybe he was looking up where the stars should have been, trying to accomplish the impossible task of finding his brother in London's light-polluted sky.

“We were on this path together. And he was always a little behind, you know? That’s just him being younger. I did everything first and I would turn around to watch him follow. Even when we weren’t talking, we were still walking down that path. He was still in sight. I watched him play his first quidditch game. I could see how proud he was when he aced his exams or impressed a teacher. I witnessed our parents… well…” Sirius swallowed.

“But no matter what I could always see him. Even when he took the mark--I thought I’d lost him, but he was still there. He still did his NEWTs and finished school and fell in love,” he shot a half-amused glance at James.

“He was still moving through his life, experiencing the big stuff. And I could look back and say, ‘Hey I did that too. I know how you feel. We’re equals in this now.’”

“But now he’s stuck,” Sirius’ voice cracked. “He'll never move forward. And eventually I'll walk so far ahead that I lose sight.

"There are so many things I’ll do that he just… won’t understand. I want to get married—or whatever the fuck kind of ceremony that's gonna be. I want to survive the war and gossip and have sleepy Sundays and argue over brands of milk and raise a kid. And the fact that he’ll… he’ll never…never know…about any of it...”

Sirius trailed off with a tortured look at James.

“I’m never gonna meet that him,” he continued morosely, looking down at his feet and taking a long pull from the bottle. "The man he could’ve been. Would’ve been, should’ve been.”

“And he'll never be older than seventeen.” He stood up, wobbling. "And we were already seventeen, James. We've already been there. And he didn't even get here."

“Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye,” Sirius slurred up at the too-empty sky. His face glistened with tears and his makeup was smeared in dark streaks underneath his eyes.

“I suppose I’m the fucking heir again.” He let out a dry, barking laugh, splashing firewhiskey as he thrust the bottle upwards in a mockery of a toast. "What a full fucking circle."

i saw someone relating this song to losing their younger sibling and it hit me so much harder. i feel like i'm constantly walking ahead of my siblings, looking back to make sure they're following. eventually they catch up to where i was and i get to see them go through the same major life events that i did. and each time they conquer a new thing, we have something more in common.

i'm 5 years older than my sister, and i spent most of middle and high school feeling so disconnected from her. now, we've gone through the same major life events and we can interact as young adults on an even footing. it's been beautiful and heartbreaking to watch her grow up, but it feels like we're finally peers.

[micedcoffee]

PART 2 LET’S GOOOOOOOO

(continued below the cut <33)

The training montage is so so great. The opening line of the song being “All my friends…” followed by Will doing Bad at jousting practice and Roland calling a supportive “Unlucky!” and Wat saying quietly “I think he’s getting worse” and Roland definitively answering “He is getting worse.” More cinematic gold. Also. Can we talk about the friendship here? I mean—there isn’t much to say. That’s the thing about this sorta stuff. But like. They’re there for their friend even though they know he’s doing Bad

Also. The response to Will’s teasing them being Roland: “Fong him” [cut to next scene]. I’m reading into it sure but like. It’s kinda hard NOT to you know?

Will almost drowning after being so excited about finally doing the training thing right is just. Boys will be boys but in a gender neutral and nonthreatening way you know? It’s good for them to act a little silly at times!!

The last scene where it’s just shot after shot after shot of fake lances breaking as they bang into the fake shield… Violence and destruction. Sillytimes

Okay okay one thing I will say: I can tell from context that the reveal of Will’s shaven face and freshly cut hair is supposed to be enticing. I respect it? But I feel nothing. It’s one of those things that confirms my lesbian status

Chaucer’s entrance is fucking phenomenal. I didn’t forget about it. It just beats repeating. Also?? How bold of the writers of this movie to be like: “Yeah, we’ll include Geoffrey Chaucer, you know, one of the most pretentious smarmy name-drops in the English literary canon, which is already pretentious as fuck, but to spice things up, we’ll introduce him naked, and not in a sexy way. Deans of Literature Studies Departments everywhere will cry with fury and sorrow and write scathing reviews. We know this and we are not afraid”

I should really incorporate “trudging” into my vocabulary more

INTERESTING that they have Chaucer say he’s “lilium inter spinas” when he like. Basically was (in real life) very ahead-of-the-game in. NOT using Latin in his writing? And instead sticking to English, which was considered “lowbrow” or “common” at the time? I’m sure it’s not that deep, but the fact that fake-Chaucer would feel the need to use Latin to prove his smarts right away… I’m thinking

Also funny that the fact that Will, Roland, and Wat don’t know Geoffrey Chaucer from Adam is supposed to be a commentary about how they weren’t educated or whatever but. Nobody knew Chaucer at the time. Not peasants, not nobility, not the members of the church… he only blew up after his death. When he was alive, he was only known amongst the hipsters of the time. I know things

“Hold your tongue, sir, or lose it”/“Now that, I do believe, Sir Ulrich” … Okay I’m seeing where my weird sexual urges may have emerged in my youth—

“‘Belle’ or ‘hell’ rhymes with Nell” and later “… take the good with the bad” I can see they were… TRYING to play with the sacrifice and beauty of descending so far into the torture of romance that you come out the other side as a changed entity of the sublime but.. they failed, chief. No matter I still weird-love the movie

Similar with the “sexism bad” effort to counter that with Jocelyn (the ironic “But sir, my sex are marked by their silence”). Ugh… It’s just a lot more complicated than they gave it credit for! In this kind of movie… could they do it justice? I tend to doubt it… Oh well. They tried

“Simon the Summoner” and “Peter the Pardoner” are actual real-life references to Chaucer characters (not named Simon and Peter) and they’re just STEEPED in very very early homophobia so it’s fair to acknowledge that these guys are the butt of a homophobic joke. I sniff at that. BUT. As a gay person studying literature. I get to think it’s funny. I’M ALLOWED. No-one else is

Also interesting how they confirm Chaucer’s gambling habit. It’s not real-life confirmed but it IS theorized as a thing, because his financial status went up and down and all around at seeming random for no reason

I’m also weird in Will being Chaucer’s savior. I’m weird. I’m weird. I used to just valorize Will without thinking very deeply about it, but now it leaves a sour taste in my mouth that Will forces Chaucer to know what would happen to him if Will DIDN’T rescue him… and the sorrow/fear Chaucer feels. His begging. It’s like. Will is just stroking his own ego, instead of prioritizing doing good…. I’m Thinking…

On a less serious note: fencing (the sport) would’ve been more fun if more screaming of the fans was encouraged. “Stop letting him hit you!”/“Hit him with your sword!”/“Ahhhhhhhhhh!”/etc.

Chaucer’s intros for Will are literally masterpieces. “WE WALK. IN THE GARDEN. OF HIS TURBULENCE”

Aaaand that’s it for pt. 2! I’m not even close to halfway through yet. I’ll have more to say though! You’ll have to kill me if you want me to stop! And you can certainly try!!!! Mwah!!! <333

A Knight’s Tale (pt. 1)

Listen I’m. I’m WEIRD about this movie okay?? I’m weird!!! To avoid giving my loved ones a direct play-by-play I’m here. Giving you guys a play-by-play. Because I can’t just keep it inside you know?? I’ll blow up or something!!

The uncertainty Will shows in his adjustment of the armor and the moment on the tilt when he struggles to position the lance right under his arm MIXED WITH the insistence that he’s “waited [his] whole life for this moment.” I dunno!! It just—I guess for me it really speaks to the Young Me idealizing chivalry and courage and honor and etc. and whatnot and being always unsure whether I could really live up to… it? Of course that’d be before I knew that wasn’t really real. Knighthood was always a dream for dreams, I guess. A real fairytale. An untruth within untruths… all the way down? I SHOULD just leave it behind but… it gets meee, you know? It gets me!! It gets at this feeling in my heart and—arghrghaghrgghhhhhhhhhh

The score is fucking incredible. The lord who hosts the first tournament mouthing along to “rock you” in Queen’s “We Will Rock You” in the most stately/dignified way he can muster. Cinematic gold

AGAIN with Will’s. Bravery and misplaced certainty. It’s naive. It’s frustratingly stupid. But “We could do this. We could be champions.” I !! I want to believe!!!!!

Also contrast that with Roland’s desire for home and Wat’s for food (and the certainty of food) and the fact that Will’s “glory” will get in the way… thinking. I’m THINKING

“Most of it is the guts to take a blow—to strike one. Guts I have!” OUGHHHHHHHHH

OUGHHHH “That [pointing at a hanged man] is nothing. And nothing is right where glory’ll take us”

I’m normal about this lads I’m so normal!!! I’m normal

“God love you, William”/“I know, I know. No-one else will” is on the level of “I’ll take care of you”/“It’s rotten work”/“Not to me. Not if it’s you”

OKAY less than 15 minutes in BUT I’m tired SO I’m going to sleep. BUT YOU’LL HEAR MORE OF MY MASTURBATORY ANALYSIS BELIEVE YOU ME!!!!!!! MWAH!!!