#Honestly his powers ARE all extremely impressive

[deathfavor]

you know though...Seiroku learning his true strength with his yellow abilities was probably a Process™️. Like he probably GENUINELY thought he was healing at first. And he IS...Sort of. His main skills are reality manipulation: his reality IS the prime reality on those effected until his sword breaks or he dies. It's active all the time regardless of if he's there or not. It was probably only when his sword broke the first time that the truth became obvious to him. 1) it's not healing per se and 2) he's warping literal reality.

[incognit0slut]

MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

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

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

Words: 6802

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the FBI.

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

He seemed a little too cocky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's a mere precaution."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

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

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

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think I ruined her."

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

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

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

[superectojazzmage]

My Adventures With Superman is honestly a really impressively good example of how you can make an adaptation radically different and new while still doing justice to the source material by just approaching said source from a place of love and respect. The show is unabashedly and upfrontly meant to be a very explorative and experimental take on Superman that does the classic premise in new ways, revamped for another time and medium.

So many of the characters, designs, aesthetics, and world feel so extremely unfamiliar and unlike “traditional” Superman. But it still FEELS like Superman. The core, the spirit, the SOUL is absolutely and unmistakably there. The characters are all incredibly in-character and instantly recognizable. The plotting and writing feels straight off the page of the comic.

Even with major reinventions, this is so obviously and clearly Superman. Not some hoary “deconstruction” or obnoxiously self-aware “parody”, it’s just unabashedly honest-to-God played absolutely straight Superman. Even through all the changes, it’s that same classic, undistilled, nostalgic vibe of a Superman comic with Clark as a lovable, goofy guy with powers trying to be an example to the world, fighting crazy bad guys, helping old ladies across the street, and winking to the reader after Lois and Jimmy fail to see through his disguise yet again before cringing because Perry yelled at him for calling Perry “chief” again.

Hot, overeager tomboy Lois Lane is a bit different from usual but she’s so clearly still that same gorgeous would-be star reporter that every Superman falls in love with. Jimmy has been reimagines as kooky conspiracy buff, but he’s still ultimately Superman’s Pal who gets into wacky situations by virtue of being Superman’s Pal. Perry, Lombard, Ronnie, and Cat are all very different from the comics superficially — hell, Ronnie has had his gender flipped — but they are all still instantly recognizable as the same eccentric bunch of newsfolk they were there. Livewire and the Intergang members are all totally changed but at their center, they’re the same; same powers and gimmicks, etc.. Dr. Ivo is now a douchey techbro and yet he’s still fulfilling the very same role he does in the comics as a self-centered mad scientist who creates things that spiral beyond his control. Even Parasite, the most radically altered of all to the point of no longer being sentient, is still identifiable as his core concept of a monster that feeds on the lifeforce of others and becomes more powerful as he does, while also weakening when he can’t do so.

I really, really like it. It’s a wonderfully imaginative and well-put-together take on a very old series that really brings the concept into the modern age in a way that hasn’t really been done successfully outside the comics since the DCAU back in the 90s and early 2000s. People writing Superman or just superhero fiction in general should absolutely take notes from this show.

[am-i-interrupting]

hazbin hotel hcs with reader, preferred fem but gn is ok, with really long hair. like it's legit like Rapunzel (and it's also their power like capturing ppl, healing ppl, and just the stuff Rapunzel is able to do lol) and so reader always wears their hair like in a bun (bc we know that'd get extremely hot) and just the different characters reaction to seeing readers hair completely down for the first time

Alastor

Alastor had always been fascinated by your hair.

If you’d let him cut it, or even if you didn’t, he’d try to get a piece. Just pluck a single strand from your head. It’s not like you’d miss it.

So, he had an idea for how long it was.

Seeing it all down was a different story, however.

“I can certainly see why you keep it tied up, my dear.”

He’s honestly impressed that you don’t buckle underneath the weight of your hair given how much of it there is.

Seeing it all down though only furthers his desire to know more about it.

Husk

Husk didn’t really pay much attention to your hair.

He’s never had long hair so while he recognizes that you’re hair has to be long to be put up, he doesn’t process how long it probably is until he sees it down.

“Holy shit.”

He actually brings out his wings so he doesn’t step on your hair as he helps you gather it back up.

He didn’t know hair could be so heavy.

“If you need any help with it. I don’t know much but I get that caring for things you can’t reach can be a fucking pain.”

He gestured to his wings. If you want to help him, he’ll help you

Lucifer

He just stares.

You look absolutely beautiful.

He flushed, absolutely gobsmacked.

Later, he’ll go up to you and offer his services for hair styling if you would like to use them.

He actually finds the process rather calming.

It reminds him of when Charlie was a child and he’d braid her hair for her.

The sessions become a bit of a bonding experience, sharing stories and gossip as he braids and styles your hair.

Vox

He just raises an eyebrow.

That’s. . . That’s a lot of hair.

He might instinctually run his fingers through it.

He just wants to see how long it is, he swears.

He’ll follow it down to the ends.

He wonders how you don’t constantly have it tangled, even with it put up.

He asks a lot of questions about how you care for it.

[signedkoko]

Hello!

Could you write some romantic headcanons for Valentino with a fem reader who's an overlord, and is either equally as powerful as him or more? I would love to see the dynamic, because we know how he treats his employees, but I'm interested in how he would act with someone who's "higher class" (would he see her as equal, treat her with more respect ect.).

Btw, I love your works. Your writing style is amazing.

Have a nice day/night <3

Valentino X Reader [Romantic]

In which you are one of the strongest overlords, and you far outpower all the V's combined. Reader is female.

When you first met, it was a very back-and-forth relationship

Always nitpicking each other, bickering a ton, and making jokes at the others expense

This was mostly at meetings or at public events, but for the most part, Valentino never bothered to know more about you

Vox was a good friend of yours, though, so he always saw you in a positive light on social media or television

Slowly, Valentino had to come to terms with the fact that you were extremely well known, as you'd taken down many overlords who crossed you without so much as a scratch

In all honesty, he's quite the coward, so he tries to avoid you as much as Vox and Velvette invite you into their lives

The fact that anyone, let alone a woman, is more powerful than him? Its infruiating

Mostly because it hurts his masculinity, what little is left of it

While normally your strength would be worth exploiting, Velvette and Vox being so attached meant he was forced to respect you

Forced is the key word because he never respects anyone besides himself, which makes it way harder to be around you, though his awkwardness is what really reels you in

You two have a lot in common: you get what you want when you want it; the only difference is that you are independent and do everything on your own

Valentino preferred to have others do the dirty work for him, so you always laughed at how prissy he was

He probably smokes a lot more after being around you because it stresses him out

He's not worried about you, no, mostly himself; you are certainly a handful, and wherever you go, you take over the whole room

Valentino is influenced by your presence, which is noticeable to everyone around him

He is less hot-headed, less likely to lash out, and less likely to manipulate anyone into doing his bidding

It is almost as if he is trying to impress you further by being independent himself, as hard as it is for him

You know this; it's very blatant, but honestly, it's so cute seeing him try to act so big and bad when he's like a mutt next to you

Valentino idolizes you in your relationship; you are an icon that he must protect

He will go to extreme lengths for you

This stupid overlord will still bicker with you, but he will leave any prods towards you out of it and will only get huffy if you start insulting him too much

Author's Note - Honestly surprised I got requested Valentino but also excited! He is such a dynamic character, defo one of my hardest to write. I also can't wait to do Velvette! Thank you for requenting 🖤

[erebus0dora]

ok so i promised you a rant on Eric Bogosian, and i pinky promise i'll try to keep the story short (those beautiful people i've already privately spewed my fascination at deserve peace and love 💜)

TL;DR: Eric Bogosian is a good researcher and judge of human nature, which honestly shouldn't be surprising given his experience, links below

it is easy to google Eric (i'll call him that not out of disrespect, it's just shorter) and get to a conclusion he's just a slightly awkward old man who had extremely weird youth and gives off a powerful bi vibe just for shits and giggles; which is fair, given the wild way he handles most interviews

but hear me out, i'm not an expert, i'm just a book kind of girl. so i sought out the books, and into the books i looked.

back in 1988 he was nominated for Pulitzer's for his "Talk Radio", and i count that as one of the first cases of him using a real story to weave a (semi)fictional one. it is a powerful play, and a gut-punching movie, but I am mentioning it not because of its ehhh artistic value. in my book, it's a proof of the way he tends to critically re-imagine the things he sees and analyses.

keep that in mind when you google his "Operation 'Nemesis".

he initially started looking into the history of Armenian genocide as into the material worth developing into a plot for a movie. but, in his own words, and i quote, "I wrote this book because I had no choice. The Nemesis story required more attention than a simple screenplay."

he is still not a scientist, mind that - and his book reads as a work of fiction. say, there's no way one can look into the head of a deceased person and know their feelings, but one can guess; and Eric guesses, of course. but the fun part is that he makes educated guesses. nearly for each presumption there's a source. a footnote. a quote.

what really strikes me is that he looked into ONE plot line and fished out a complex slice of history, dripping with CONTEXT. White Russian emigration? it's in there. early stages of oil industry? check. the colourful background of Europe in early XX century? all there.

there's no wonder he spent seven years on this book.

i repeat: SEVEN. YEARS.

call me sapiosexual, but that was the moment when i stopped and thought: ok, THIS IS HOT.

what also impresses me is the way he speaks of his past. he admits he's done wild shit, and adds that the best part was the moment he understood he didn't need to be high to be creative. it's the underlying power of "yeah, been there, got better, SO CAN YOU" that gets me.

to keep things short, i'm adding links:

here's a vid where he speaks of the book on Armenian genocide (i had personal reasons to tear up a bit while listening, ngl)

and here's a vid where he speaks of acting, writing, and improv, that basically broke my art block, for which i am going to be grateful for fucking ever, i guess

(if you got to this point of my rant, you deserve a hug and a respectful kiss on the mouth if you're ok with that. go have a lovely day 💜)

[vickyvicarious]

Jonathan's decision to play along today was very difficult to make. But, in the end, it was the right move. He set aside his anger and impulse to rebel... perhaps as much or more out of fear rather than just logic, but we do see his reasoning and it makes sense.

And honestly, I think he pushed his luck nearly to the limit anyways. Look at how Dracula asked. First, he waited a few days after everything that went down with the vampire ladies, perhaps to see if Jonathan would bring up the topic. If Jonathan does, maybe he had plans to lie to him again, to gaslight him about either never sleeping outside of his room, or about Dracula finding him dreaming somewhere else and helping him back to his own bed. Still, Jonathan's reaction to such a lie could very easily force an end to all this pretending. But since he never brings it up at all, Dracula knows he can continue his game. In fact, Jonathan is proving to be a very resilient player, one who has just enough struggle in him to make it more interesting, without being too unmanageable or ever close to actually get away.

Dracula gives Jonathan this 'request' "in the suavest tones" - he's really emphasizing his charm here, being extra friendly as he tries to make Jonathan feel even worse. But then, contrary to what he's seen thus far, Jonathan hesitates.

I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power; and to refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him; my only chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur which will give me a chance to escape. I saw in his eyes something of that gathering wrath which was manifest when he hurled that fair woman from him. He explained to me that posts were few and uncertain, and that my writing now would ensure ease of mind to my friends; and he assured me with so much impressiveness that he would countermand the later letters, which would be held over at Bistritz until due time in case chance would admit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him would have been to create new suspicion.

I think he must have been sitting there making these arguments to himself in real time. Wrestling with his fear and his outrage and possibly losing most of his control over his expression and body language as he did so. And at first, this is fun for Dracula. He wants Jonathan to struggle like this. It's fun to watch. But then, the longer it goes on, the more real becomes the possibility that this will be Jonathan's breaking point. And if it is, if he outright says "no" even this once, then Dracula's entire game is ruined. He's just committed to wanting to keep Jonathan around for another full month. Jonathan passed the test with the other vampires. Dracula has been looking forward to this. How dare he spoil this -

Dracula's rage rises as he finds himself forces to make excuses and be convincing when he likely assumed he no longer needed to put in that much effort. Jonathan finally does agree, but he didn't do so right away. And it's a very fine line, because continuing to do this does in fact make him more interesting and fun in the long run, and thus perhaps allow him to live longer. Maybe after they separate for the evening (morning, being nocturnal) Dracula would actually look back on this moment with indulgent enjoyment. He pushed perhaps right up to the limit of what Dracula would tolerate, but he didn't quite cross it, so the game can continue. But at the same time, pushing like this (or rather, resisting being pushed before giving in) is extremely dangerous in the moment - because in the moment, there's still a chance Jonathan could cross the line. Dracula has a temper and he will take it out on Jonathan if he decides he's had enough.

It's that tightrope again. More of the same. But I just... love imagining this moment. Dracula's sickly-sweet smugness at the start, his utter confidence in his victory once again. And Jonathan - pausing. Saying nothing in response. Thinking it over, taking so long to do so, trying so hard to keep a neutral face but not fully succeeding, maybe keeping his head bowed so his expression can't be seen. Dracula's anger building along with almost a sort of desperation, as he lays out all this bullshit reasoning, maybe losing control of his own tone somewhat as he gets more aggressively vehement. The absolute tension rising, up and up right until the moment Jonathan looks up and agrees, when it suddenly dissipates. But the aftermath lingers, even in Dracula's victory. Even as Jonathan writes the three letters, one after another under Dracula's watchful eye. Dracula takes them from his hand, squeezes his shoulder in ostensible thanks, but such a clear threat. Jonathan's face twitching, a little spasm of fear and despair, at the contact.

It could be SUCH a good scene in an adaptation that emphasized the abusive dynamic here.

[fenrysmoonbeamswife]

You know, in a way, I can actually understand people having blinders on when it comes to Cassian abusing Nesta. You see this in real life too, the golden boy could never possibly be abusive even though 9 times out of 10 it's not the creepy guy, it's the hot charismatic one. Then you've also got the Nesta haters with their misogyny and bullshit who could read about her being literally raked over hot coals and pretend it never happened or somehow make it her fault. And then on top of that you have the people who claim to (or maybe even genuinely believe they are) be Nesta fans who subconsciously allow their resentment of her and/or their misogyny to take over whenever it comes to Cassian.

But how do you blatantly ignore how he treated/treats Azriel? I know people are unbelievably easily manipulated by SJMs writing, to the point that it should actually be studied, but genuinely how do you read that Cassian beat the crap out of Azriel for being "too quiet", knowing that he was traumatized from similar treatment, and think that he's a good person? How do you read that and say that he is kind and emotionally intelligent and when all we've seen him do is abuse his power over everyone he sees as beneath him from a young age?

Cassians ego controls every interaction he has. The only people he treats with respect (read: licks the hole off them) are people he sees as having power over him/above him (eg. Rhysand). He treats Feyre with a mix of respect and disrespect because he doesn't see her as above him but he sees her as an extension of Rhysand. He sees Azriel and Nesta as beneath him and he doesn't respect them, he abuses any power he has over them. Nesta more so than Azriel but the point stands*

Like it's right there? In writing? On the page? Right in front of your face? I don't?? Fine, SJM paints them as cutie uwu brothers but is context not a thing anymore? Can we not interpret what's happening for ourselves without being spoon fed what to think? Can we not all collectively exit the sheep mentality and see that beating up traumatized people, locking traumatized people up and breaking traumatized people to feel better about yourself or get them to submit does not make someone a golden retriever/emotionally intelligent/brotherly/loving or whatever way SJM or his fans want to try and spin it

Cassian is inherently self centered and arrogant while also being extremely insecure and spineless and this results in horrendous people skills and interpersonal relationships and it's honestly both impressive and outrageous that SJM has convinced so many people that he is completely the opposite of his actual character type

*And I'm not saying his abuse of Azriel is more important but I'm trying to find some sort of basic understanding since these people tend to like Azriel even if they dislike Nesta

[mercillery]

You already know who this is lmao. Since you wrote Andrew perfectly from IDV I GOTTA see how you write Frederick relationship overview 🙏💕 I love my poor disgruntled ex prodigee French man

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: I’ve got nothing to say about Frederick mains yet because I stopped playing around his release…but i’m sure his mains are fun to play with. I imagine they accidentally pop ciphers a lot too.

At first, Frederick would charm you in a way that feels almost unfair, like he’s playing a game you didn’t know you’d signed up for???

You’d find yourself completely entranced by Frederick—there’s no escaping it. This man doesn’t just walk into a room; he makes an entrance with a grace so smooth it practically slides in on polished shoes. He’s got this natural elegance that makes you wonder if he spends his weekends secretly training under some Victorian-era etiquette coach.

Every word, every subtle movement, is meticulously chosen to leave a lasting impression. You can almost hear a soundtrack playing whenever he talks. His gaze? Oh, it’s not just looking at you; it’s reading your very soul, flipping through your emotional pages like a well-loved book. This guy has the power to sweep any lady off their feet, whether they want to be swept or not. But don’t get too worried—you’re not just anyone to Frederick.

Dating Frederick is like a high-stakes thriller with poetic intermissions. When he’s chosen you as his focus, you’ll know it. He’s as devoted as a knight in shining armor with an artistic twist. Forget flowers—he’s out there composing symphonies that embody the way you laugh or the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re annoyed.

And yes, he’s that extra. But it’s not all rainbows and heartfelt sonatas. His passion runs as deep as the Mariana Trench, and with that comes a protective streak that would put guard dogs to shame.

His moments of jealousy? Let’s just say he doesn’t do halfway—Frederick only knows extremes. If you so much as wave at your barista a second too long, brace yourself for a brooding soliloquy about loyalty and his existential fear of being forgotten.

See, the man doesn’t just want to be liked or loved; he needs to be your everything. He’s got this internal scoreboard and if he’s not winning the gold medal in your heart, what’s the point? To Frederick, being mediocre is worse than losing—it’s being invisible, and he won’t settle for that. And honestly, why should he?

When it comes to love, Frederick doesn't do simple—no, he composes entire symphonies that could put Hollywood’s most dramatic love themes to shame. His idea of showing affection? It’s nothing short of an epic masterpiece.

You’d find yourself at the center of a grand concerto, where each note is painstakingly crafted to echo the highs, the lows, and those delicious in-betweens of your relationship. And, of course, private performances would become as routine as morning coffee.

Picture this: Frederick seated at a piano, fingers dancing across the keys, eyes darting to your face every other second as if he's trying to capture every flicker of your reaction. Is that awe? Is that admiration? Good. He’ll take that as a win. Your approval? It’s like a five-star review in a world where his love language is measured in crescendos and decrescendos.

But let's not forget—Frederick is a hopeless romantic, the kind who’s read Wuthering Heights one too many times and thought, Yeah, I can top that.

Love letters? Oh, they’re not just notes; they’re beautifully penned, metaphor-laden works of art that could make Shakespeare sit down and take notes. Candlelit concerts? He’s already planned three for next month, complete with a playlist that rivals the greatest romantic ballads in history.

And the surprises don’t stop there; you'll find flowers and little notes tucked into places you'd never expect: your bag, the fridge, maybe even the laundry hamper (don’t ask how they got there).

But for all his flair, Frederick isn’t just about grand gestures. There are those quieter, softer moments that catch you off guard and remind you that his love is as layered as one of his symphonies.

A simple lean of his head on your shoulder while you read, a touch so subtle you almost question if it happened, or that electric, intense gaze from across a crowded room—those moments are like a secret shared between the two of you. It’s like speaking an unspoken language, one where every glance and touch is a verse in an ever-unfolding poem that only the two of you understand.

Frederick’s sensitivity is a double-edged sword in your relationship, like owning a cat that’s both affectionate and completely unpredictable. On one hand, his perceptiveness is unmatched. This man could tell you’re upset from the way you’re stirring your coffee or the subtle shift in your smile.

Before you even have the chance to sigh, he’s there with those eyes full of concern, ready to listen and offer comfort that feels like a warm blanket on a cold day. It’s this deep empathy that forges an almost magical connection between you two, making you feel seen and understood in a way that’s rare. When Frederick’s with you, he’s with you—body, mind, and soul.

But there’s a catch, and it’s a big one.

His own emotions are about as stable as a teetering Jenga tower in the middle of an earthquake. Frederick feels everything on a scale of 1 to 100, with no in-between. Did you forget to say goodnight because you fell asleep? Prepare for an orchestra of internal questioning that could rival Hamlet’s soliloquy. Did you compliment a friend’s new jacket without immediately reassuring him that he still has the best taste in the room? Cue the silent spiral of doubt. He doesn’t just overthink—he over-operas. (Am I funny yet or do I just sound corny?)

Reassurance isn’t just appreciated; it’s essential. A simple “I’m here for you” can turn his internal storm into a calm, clear sky. Without it, his mind becomes a symphony of self-doubt, complete with the tragic overture of “Are they slipping away?”

And while it might sound exhausting, knowing this about Frederick means you’re sharing in something unique: a relationship where vulnerability is met with raw honesty and a commitment to each other’s emotional landscapes. Just be prepared for those moments when your calming words are the only thing standing between him and a full Shakespearean-level existential crisis.

While Frederick effortlessly projects an aura of undeniable charm and sophistication, it’s in those rare, private moments that you get to see beyond the polished exterior. These are the times when the cracks in his armor show, and you catch glimpses of the man behind the grandeur.

He’ll sit beside you, the gleam in his eyes softened, and open up about the disappointments that still gnaw at him. He’ll talk about the aching void left by his estranged family, the times he felt abandoned, and the relentless fear of mediocrity that follows him like a shadow he can’t shake.

It’s then you realize that his vanity isn’t just there to dazzle; it’s a well-crafted shield, desperately protecting the perfection-seeking artist who’s terrified of being truly seen and found wanting. In these moments, your acceptance of him—raw, imperfect, and honest—is worth more than a standing ovation at a sold-out concert.

But, spoiler alert: listening quietly won’t cut it.

He doesn’t just want to see that you’re present; he needs to hear your voice, feel your words like a balm on his frayed nerves. A silent nod isn’t enough when his mind is a cacophony of insecurities. He craves your reassurance like it’s the only song that can drown out the dissonance of self-doubt.

Then there are those times when Frederick’s paranoia takes center stage, and his brain transforms into a crime scene investigator looking for clues of your potential disinterest. Did you pause a beat too long before answering a question? He’ll dissect that silence like a forensic expert, eyes narrowing as if you just handed him the Rosetta Stone of heartbreak.

Even your simplest words or expressions are put under a microscope, magnified until he’s convinced he’s found proof that you’re slipping away. And yes, this can lead to some tension that’ll have you wondering if you’re in a relationship or a 24/7 reality show with constant performance reviews.

But here’s the twist—your patience and understanding are the keys to unlocking the security he craves. Sure, it might feel like you’re on an emotional tightrope at times, but when you take that moment to reassure him, to tell him he’s enough, you’ll see the tension melt away, and the storm in his eyes settle. Your steady, confident love is what helps Frederick silence the relentless chorus of doubt, making him feel seen, cherished, and—finally—secure.

Frederick has an eye for beauty, a radar for aesthetics, and a deep appreciation for life’s most elegant experiences, so if you’re with him, get ready for a whirlwind of high-class romance. Dates with Frederick aren’t just nights out—they’re productions.

Picture this: a night at the opera where he’s reserved the best seats, just for you and him, leaning close to whisper his insights on the music while his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your arm. Or an evening spent at a prestigious art gallery where he guides you from piece to piece, sharing stories and perspectives that make the artwork come alive.

Even a simple walk in the park with Frederick is elevated; he’s not just strolling—he’s carefully navigating to the most scenic routes, stopping at every blooming flower and golden-lit pond to take in the view and share a quiet moment of awe with you. He’ll glance at you with that expectant smile, as if to say, Isn’t this incredible?—and yes, he’ll definitely be checking to see if you agree.

And yes, if you’re wondering, he does have standards—expectations, even. Frederick doesn’t want to enjoy these experiences alone; he wants to bask in your shared appreciation, revel in your mutual admiration for art, architecture, and all things exceptional.

He’ll be delighted to show you off to his social circle, introducing you with a certain pride, as if you’re the finest piece in his collection of treasured things. But with that comes an unspoken agreement that you’ll match his refined demeanor and partake in his world of cultured conversation and elegant gestures.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he’s not expecting you to memorize 18th-century sonatas overnight or debate the merits of impressionism versus post-impressionism at every cocktail party. But if he catches even the slightest yawn during a concert or a vague, non-committal “It was fine” when he asks your thoughts on an exhibit—oh boy, brace yourself.

His brows will furrow in a way that says Is this really happening?, and suddenly, the air will feel a bit tense, like you’ve hit a wrong note in the symphony of his evening. He thrives on shared enthusiasm, so when he doesn’t see that spark in your eyes, he’s left wondering if you’re really on the same page or if you’d rather be anywhere else.

The key to navigating these moments? Patience and a touch of reassurance that, yes, you’re in this for the full experience—fancy outfits, whispered critiques at the opera, picturesque paths and all.

One thing about Frederick? He holds mediocrity in absolute contempt. This extends beyond his own aspirations and into the realm of your relationship, which, to him, is just another area where greatness must reign supreme.

If you're with Frederick, get ready for a personal coach, cheerleader, and, occasionally, an overly intense life mentor wrapped into one. He’ll push you to chase your dreams and won’t just clap when you reach a milestone—he’ll give you a standing ovation, complete with dramatic applause.

But with that passionate encouragement comes an edge; Frederick will also be your most unsparing critic, the kind who’ll say, “That was good, but it could be phenomenal,” right when you’re ready to celebrate. It’s motivating, sure, but if you don’t share his relentless pursuit of excellence or just need a break now and then, it might feel like you’re jogging beside someone who’s running an ultra-marathon…

If you really want Frederick to beam like he just won an award, show a genuine love for his craft or nurture a passion of your own. Respect for talent and hard work is practically woven into his DNA, so when he sees that you have your own spark, that’s when you become more than just a partner—you’re his muse, his equal, the one who fuels his artistic spirit.

Conversations with Frederick are not your run-of-the-mill small talk. Forget chatting about the weather or weekend plans; he’s here to unravel the mysteries of the human mind, ponder the nature of ambition, and debate the intricacies of creativity.

His interest in dissecting emotions, motivations, and talent isn’t just a casual hobby; it’s like he’s running a one-man TED Talk every time he opens his mouth.

And you? You’ll probably find yourself nodding along, wide-eyed, captivated by the way he speaks with such eloquence that even the most mundane statement sounds profound.

Honestly, he could say, “An orange is orange,” and you’d be nodding like, “Absolutely, that’s so true,” while trying not to swoon from the sheer brilliance of his delivery.

That said, these conversations aren’t just one-sided lectures. Frederick expects engagement, intellectual back-and-forth, even if it turns into a bit of a debate. And make no mistake—he’s got strong opinions and isn’t afraid to challenge yours, especially when it comes to art and talent.

But here’s the thing: he respects those who can spar with him in these verbal duels. If you stand your ground and hold your own, you’ll earn a rare, approving smile that makes all those philosophical tangents worth it.

Plus, there’s something quite mesmerizing about listening to him—his voice, rich and confident, pulls you in, and you’re left thinking, “Yes, Frederick, tell me more about the complexities of human nature and why oranges are orange,” while internally planning your Nobel Prize acceptance speech for keeping up with him.

Beneath Frederick’s air of grandeur and confident public persona, there’s a side of him that only you get to see—a soft, almost fragile version of himself that craves simple, unguarded intimacy. These are the moments when he lets the mask slip and the weight of being Frederick Kreiburg, the heir, the prodigy, the perfectionist, melts away.

It’s in these quiet interludes that you find him seeking solace, laying his head in your lap as you read, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your knee while he closes his eyes, enjoying the rare sense of peace. He doesn’t need to fill the silence with grand words or impressive declarations. In your shared space, the performance is over; he’s just Frederick, vulnerable and human, grateful that he doesn’t have to strive for perfection in your presence. Your presence alone is enough to soothe the symphony of doubt that usually plays on loop in his mind.

And while he might dazzle the crowds with his musical prowess and philosophical musings, one of his quieter passions is equestrianism—a skill that, unlike many of his pursuits, isn’t about impressing others but about finding a rare moment of freedom. It’s a pastime that lets him shed the pressure and simply enjoy life for what it is, the rhythmic pounding of hooves syncing with his heartbeat as he gallops across open fields, feeling the wind tug at his platinum hair.

When he invites you to join him on horseback rides, it’s more than just an activity; it’s an invitation into this private realm where he feels unburdened and alive. Teaching you to ride? Oh, he’ll approach it with all the patience and joy that he usually reserves for his most cherished pursuits. He’ll guide you with an amused smile as you find your balance, his hand never straying too far from yours, ready to steady you at the slightest wobble.

But nothing makes his heart lift quite like seeing you experience the same exhilaration that riding brings him. That shared thrill—the wind in your hair, the laughter that bubbles up as you both race through sun-dappled trails—is something he treasures. It’s one of the few times where his worries, ambitions, and relentless pursuit of excellence fade into the background, and it’s just the two of you, free and unbound.

And when he looks over at you, eyes bright and a grin cracking through his otherwise composed demeanor, you realize that, yes, this is Frederick at his happiest—not the heir or the virtuoso, but a man who, for once, is simply living in the moment, sharing it with the one person who makes it all more vibrant.

Ah, the shadows of Frederick’s past—a specter that never quite left him, always lingering in the corners of his mind, whispering doubts and sowing restlessness. There are days when this presence looms larger, and he becomes a man consumed by his inner turmoil, pacing like a caged lion or retreating into the sanctuary of his study.

In these moments, it’s like he’s waging a war with his thoughts, wrestling with the frustration of creative blocks or the relentless voice that tells him he’s never enough. He might shut the world out, drowning himself in a storm of music that’s as chaotic as his thoughts, fingers flying over the keys, each note a plea for peace that never quite comes.

It’s during these times that your role is both simple and profound. You may not know it, but your quiet, unwavering presence is the lighthouse guiding him through the storm.

A soft touch, the brush of your hand against his arm as you pass by, or just sitting in the room while he spirals—these things are the lifelines he doesn’t always know how to ask for but desperately needs. And while you might think that just being there isn’t enough, oh, how wrong you’d be.

The truth is, your patience and silent support do more than calm the chaos; they remind him that he isn’t alone in the struggle. Your reassurance is like a hidden chord in his symphony, one he clings to when the rest feels dissonant.

Of course, it’s not always easy. There will be times when the emotional weight feels as if it’s pressing down on you too, and you catch yourself thinking, Is this worth it?

And then you remember—remember the man behind the polished façade, the one who laughs a little too loudly when he’s truly caught off guard, or who looks at you with such raw, unguarded affection that it makes your heart stutter. The one who finds solace in resting his head in your lap and who lights up when he shares the simple joy of a horseback ride. The man who, despite his brilliance and bravado, is just as flawed and human as anyone else.

And in those moments, it doesn’t feel so exhausting. It feels like you’re part of something beautiful and rare—like you’re holding a piece of someone that no one else gets to touch, no matter how flawless his public persona may seem.

You realize that while being with Frederick comes with its trials, it also comes with moments of breathtaking vulnerability and love so consuming that it makes every struggle worth it. Because underneath the charm, the intensity, and the restless ambition is a man who, at the end of the day, needs you more than he’ll ever admit out loud. And that? That makes it all worthwhile.

[gloomura1]

Do you perhaps do crossovers (like for example obey me x twst or sumn similar to that)?

If so, could you perhaps do the demon brothers or Diavolo with a Malleus!Male! Reader? Doesn't exactly have to look like Malleus (mainly just the horns and magic abilities, personality too if you wanna add that).

Maybe some fluff headcanons of Diavolo or the demon brothers just simply being around Malleus!reader and spending time with him, and Malleus!reader being somewhat shocked that they aren't really afraid of him?

I'm hope you have a wonderful day!

(Edit: After so long Ive realized that I never really went through with the ask and went with my own story. Im so sorry dude, i will fix my mistake and remake it in a bit)

TW: VERY small mentions of the event Glorious Masquerade in Levi’s Part, Mentions of hurting Belphegor during lesson 16 + small spoilers, let me know if more!

Malleus!Reader and the Brothers

Lucifer🦚

When you first came to the Devildom, his first concern him was your abilities, and of course, your appearance. Nothing could’ve really prepared him to see a tall man with large horns, especially one with the amount of power to actually harm them. Slightly though, I mean you couldn’t be compared to THEE Lucifer (is what he continued to tell himself for a long time).

Throughout the year Lucifer mostly left you alone. He had small concerns, but it was most likely just paperwork and his brothers stressing him out so he stayed in his room. You were kinda used to that kind of treatment though so you didn’t mention it much.

He eventually warmed up to you, and you did try to keep out of trouble so nothing much happened. His trust also kind of broke a bit when he saw you using magic on his younger brother, Belphegor during the whole… trying to kill you thing. He understood it was for defense purposes though.

When he learns that people tend to avoid you and are usually scared of you, he felt a bit bad. He likes spending time with you now, and isn’t that scared of you. Maybe a bit intimidated with your height but it isn’t a huge problem since the horns make up around 4-5 inches. He adores your love and interest for gargoyles, and is extremely impressed when he finds out what your power level. Nothing could really compare to the brothers though, not even Belphegor.

Mammon💸

He thought you were badass honestly. Maybe a bit intimidated since you were pretty tall compared to him (and also the fact that you just looked terrifying). You did kinda remind him of Lucifer though…

During the year though, you end up dealing with him like usual. Mammon would take all sorts of things from you and try to steal it, but it slowly stopped after a while (years). One night though, he decides to take your beloved Drago. I swear he’s never seen you so upset over some toy! Are you like Levi, all into those weird games? Didn’t seem like the type.

After explaining that it was given by someone special, he stops most of his teasing. You’d hear a whine or two about how you would just give away expensive items to fix it, but a small smile after it’s fixed immediately shuts him up.

Levi🐍

He was bored out of his mind when he was suddenly out of his little fantasy and he just sees this super scary guys that’s like, the exact replica of Lucifer! The horns, the glare, the terrifying but badass look that just screams “normie”! He couldn’t believe it, you were also an exact replica of the Lord of Corruption!

He pretty much avoided you but admired you after that meeting. He could compare you to so many anime characters! You really got his attention, he’d stare at you in class all day! And during breakfast, lunch, and dinner... He does get closer with you by the end of the year, you were eager to learn what he knew about TSL. Though, he called you “normie” a lot during his rant. Well, at least you were able to mention gargoyles. And he was completely fine with it! Unlike Azul and Idia who completely made a whole deal out of it during your trip to Noble Bell College… Though, you did think of Idia while Levi was ranting about TSL. Maybe they both would be friends?

(might get into writing again but oh well. This is probably just a spurt of energy after months of being done with everything.)

[starsomens]

imagining being one of the openers for BMTH along with Bad Omens and noah slowly developing a crush on you just from watching you from the side of the stage and how confident you look while singing your songs on stage 🫶🏻🫶🏻🥰

When you heard that you were opening For bring me the horizon you were ecstatic. But once you had heard that you were also going to be interacting with bad omens, you nearly had a heart attack.

Just like bad omens, you were a new upcoming band who honestly had some great success with your previous album. Due to shows and locations you couldn’t meet these two amazing artist separately, but it seems like your dreams were coming true all in one tour!

Today was the first night you were opening them and you were so excited but extremely nervous. You could feel your hands and feet sweating every second. You had gotten closer to being done in your dressing room. You were supposed to meet up with both Oli and Noah before the show go over kind of routines, and course to meet both of them

much like Noah before you had gotten into your singing career you were a big fan of bringing me the horizon since you were a teenager. And once you had heard about Bad Omens and started to get into their music, you could not deny the raw talent that this band was bringing to the industry

Usually these types of things because you were really worried about making a good impression with them.

“Y/N, will be leaving in about five minutes are you almost ready?” Your sister and best friend had come to check on you. Since you’re growing fame, your best friend had helped you to manage yourself the team and honestly this entire production on your end. And what was even better was that she remains as an amazing friend when you needed one.

A friend who also like to tease about having a crush on both of the boys, and that was why you were so nervous to meet them

“ I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be” you looking over your make up one more time and standing up for your seat. You straighten out your outfit with one less overlook and you were ready to go

Except you weren’t expecting to see them right outside in the hallway, once you stepped out of your dressing room. They took your bed by surprise, but you just laughed it off. You extend your hand to greet both of them and thanked Oli once again for having you on this tour.

While oli was looking over some stage, set up details from his team you and Noah actually started a conversation.

“ so how does it feel from going from small venues to something so big like the arena?”

You chuckle at his question “ well, I could ask you the same thing couldn’t I?”

His eyes widen with amusement “oooo Shot it right back at me, huh?” he laughs making you giggle as well

“ but if I’m honest, I’m really nervous this is going to be our biggest audience yet. I’m honestly used to goofing around with smaller audiences and it’s so intimate and so little pressure but now I just really feel the pressure I guess?”

This was the first time Noah was ever had in conversation with you and that blush that you had gotten over worrying about how well you perform was honestly adorable to him

“ Well, I think you’ll be fine. I saw some of your other performances and the control you have over the crowd is honestly impressive.” he compliments as you are being given your stage equipment

"You got this, watch!" Noah encourages you as he watches you focus and take in some deep breaths and clear your mind. You check your ear piece and mic once more before it was just about that time

Just like any other show you had performed at, you clear your mind, relax, and let go.

Noah watches you from the side of the stage and was amazed. You had an amazing stage presence, your energy was non-stop, your connection with the crowd was infectious

and your voice, it was so crips and light yet so powerful

"She's good ain't she?" Oli nudged him

"yeah she's amazing!" Noah agrees as they clap with the crowd, you were so nervous before, but you perform as if you own the stage, this was your world and everyone just existed in it

And the way you closed out your opening was fantastic, you music perfectly flowing into the start of Bad Omen's music, meaning they'd be on in just a minute or two. You come rushing off the stage out of breath, slightly sweaty

Noah hands you a bottle of cold water to help cool you off

"I told you, you'd do great" he said in an 'I told you so tone' you smile at him and gulp down the water. He was on next and you knew he was going to murder his performance

You watch on the side of the stage in awe at his pure talent, all of them really. Nick's energy on the drums, Noah's Vocals, Jolly's finger work on the guitar and of course Ruffilo on the bass really sews it all in

But there was something about his stage aura that was so...hypnotic. He was almost like a siren out at sea, and you were drawn in so easily

Overall first night went very well, and you ended up getting some take out to celebrate and had gotten to know one another while sharing a meal and so on and so forth went the tour

But Noah was different

Each night he just couldn't wait to see you on stage. He'd get to your dressing room, walk down to the stage, sometimes a bit early just to talk some more and then he'd watch you from the side of the stage. He might as well be in the crowd enjoying you as a fan at this point

There were times you'd just look out into the crowd without saying a word and he would just watch the screen and study your face. Had it always been that alluring to him?

He counted the number on moles on your face, the way your eyes would crinkle when you smiled, how you'd bite your lip whenever you heard the crowd singing the lyrics

and that voice, he could not get enough of it! He felt as if you were calling to him, singing for him to come closer to you, it was beautiful and sharp and addictive, it was if his cheers became louder and louder each performance

and then there were those times where you'd sing a much more mellow and slow song. Your breath and tone shifts could lull him to sleep so easily. If you had told him to walk out on stage with your singing he'd do it without thinking

You were.....wonderful....

............he had a crush didn't he?

There was just something about you in the way you had dried him in. Whether you were on stage or you guys were just hanging out talking about some anime.

It was also clear to everyone around him that he was developing a little crush. The rest of his band, and even Oli were teasing him about the way he would look at you.

They were even times where they tried to distance themselves from the group, one by one so that he was the only one left with you. They had never seen no one blush so much or stumble over his words, then when he was with you.

It was amusing to them. But wanted to give him his best advice because he knew this tour and collaboration wouldn’t last forever

“ when you get a chance and it’s just you too you need to say something. Or you’ll never get the chance again. So either you make move or someone else does.”

“ and if she says no?”

“ well then you have three more shows too absolutely seduce her on stage” he laughs “ but really, trust me, she’ll say yes, I know she will”

So Noah gathered up the courage to ask you after your final set together. Tonight was different since all three of you would be performing on stage together after a very successful and honestly tiring show it was time for your team to start packing your things to go your own way.

Noah was waiting for the perfect moment when you would be by yourself so he could approach you. He had even gone out and bought a small hand of roses for you. Once you had gone into your dressing room, he went to knock on the door. Knowing that usually after shows you go in the dressing room to settle yourself and breathe for a minute or two.

You tell him to enter, and he closes the door behind him with roses behind his back

“Hey There rockstar” what was that??

you giggle and spinning your chair “hello to you too, today was a really great show you you guys did amazing”

Not as amazing as you “ Yeah, it was really fun performance…. You did great”

“ not as great as you. I can sing by death can’t reach those amazing vocals like you do” you complement him. You made his heart give a beat, and he was the one who was supposed to do that to you! It was never

“ I’m not gonna be around the bush I do want to talk to you about something..” he starts off a few steps closer to you and bring the roses from around his back

Your mouth falls slightly, and he could swear he saw sparkles in your eyes when you saw the flowers

“I-I think you’re amazing. Not only as an artist but as a person too. You’re so fun, and really, really, really pretty, so talented…. And I know we only know each other so much because of the tour but I really like to get to know you once we have more time….” a soft smile after he was done, and you were speechless.

You didn’t know what to saying, you could feel your heart skipping a beat impractically, trying to jump out of your chest

you take a hold of the roses and give them sniff. They smell so fresh and sweet. you stand from your chair and take a step just a bit closer to Noah. Your cheeks were burning, but somehow mustard to say.

“ I’d love to Noah, thank you” you smile at him, and he can only offer you a bigger smile with a nervous chuckle that follows.

He still can’t believe that he nailed that without tripping over his words and just professing his love for you right on the spot, but he was excited where this would eventually go. You unfortunately were called to another area on the set to look at some things before you’re ready to go later that night, you both bid your goodbyes sharing a long hug.

This time the hug had something extra in it and he felt something different and so did he. If he could have, he would’ve wanted to hold you much longer but you had to go. He did offer to walk you down to where you have to go so you did. And along the way, you both made plans and shared your next steps after the Europe tour.

Make sure to exchange numbers and any kind of social media to keep in touch. You also gave him your address in case if he might have wanted to drop by once things were clear on both of your schedules, of course

“ Well, it looks like this is where we say goodbye,” you honestly have felt a little sad, even though you were only touring for a couple shows together, but you just couldn’t help the feeling that in your chest

“ yeah, but I’ll talk to you soon. Give me a text when you land?” he offers and you know your head. Before you walk off, you make the decision to shoot up onto your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“ Thanks again for the great experience” you smile at him as you walk away, with a slight bounce your step. Noah was frozen in his place as he watched you walk away. Little did he know he had some eyes watching him.

The rest of his band, and even Oli were trying to keep their giggles at a minimum as they whisper to each other

“ he finally did it! He grew some balls and even got a kiss out of it!” They congratulated him in their own way

As much as wanted to back them, all he could really think about. Was you and the kids you had given him. The idea of never washing that spot until you guys met again. Even crossed his mind. But until then he’d make sure to clear his schedule to at least get a phone call in Later on

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @leneisdown @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547 @itsmrsfuentes @lma1986 @daylightlvrs @darling-millicent-aubrey

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 18

Staring John Lennon, as that kid I should’ve been nicer to in first grade who always smelled like PB&J and was never to be seen without his pokemon cards

The dancing is really too cute. They’re just absolutely giddy. Making each other laugh AND an excuse to touch? John and Paul’s heaven. 

John saying he was too excited after yesterday to go to bed. Like a fucking kid on christmas.

Everybody is serving today. While the candy-land suit is fun, I actually just love that vivid purple so much that I think it’s better without the coat over it. Billy looks extremely suave and classy.  And those red polka-dots on Ringo. Red suits him, and I think with his very frank, masculine aspect, he looks so beautiful and bold in feminine fits. Paul and John are both just wearing what they wore yesterday. Yeah. But John is still a cutie, and Paul, well, you all know.

The advice chain about finishing a song while you’re working on. Paul → John → George

Paul honestly does a great job being supportive of George and his work. Coming over and grooving with him, then hopping on drums then guitar (right-handed, may I add). Just to give George musical atmosphere to flesh out his song and start thinking of arrangement ideas, I assume. Then letting him bounce ideas around. And the whole time being overly-enthusiastic to build George up. Look how happy George is with the love and attention. 

John helping move some equipment in. We love a man who sometimes doesn’t think he’s too good for manual labor. 

Yes, clean that homeless man’s palm sweat off your instrument. Probably smart. 

TFW you made Paul McCartney jealous of your musical abilities. 

John really knew so well when to be his little impish self and when to be hard and intimidating. Exhibit A, going from, “Can we have our microphones, oh, mister, can we please?” to “And get one for Billy too.” In a matter of seconds.

George Martin stepping in when they’re all getting panicky about the sound and they need an authority figure to reassure them in ways that someone like Glyn Johns never could. Just, perfectly cool and collected, puts everything right as they’re all shouting at him like school children who’ve just had a terrible time in PE. 

“Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh, I do.” Oh, good. He did put it in. That’s nice. Right, and this is the moment Yoko decides to tell John her divorce has come through and pull him in for a big smooch. Honestly, it just shows how threatened she feels by Paul. Nevermind her whole, “good thing Paul isn’t a girl or he would have been a great threat,” quote. Clearly, he just is a threat regardless of sex.

And then John, “I’m freeeee.” At Paul. Honestly, the amount of things they direct specifically and aggressively at each other that should’ve just been general statements if there wasn’t some weird thing between them. It’s really something. Normally, you’d announce something like that to the whole room. But it seems John specifically wants to impress upon Paul that he and Yoko could get married right now if they wanted to. I mean, it’s a little difficult to make the point, because John and Paul almost aways seem to be talking only to each other. But through the whole discussion of Yoko’s divorce, John does not take his eyes off of Paul. 

Oh my gosh, Ivan Vaughn is here? How many emotional support boyfriends does Paul need to make up for John having Yoko? Glyn, Linda, George Martin, Dennis, Robert Fraser, and now Ivan? Fuck’s sake, Yoko, you’re a powerful woman.   

Paul’s Strawberry Fields piano. Let me be as vulnerable and broken as possible in my singing, since I can’t show you any other way that you’re killing me. Do you remember this song? That you wrote when we were at the height of our partnership only two years ago? How happy we were then? How beautiful the world seemed for that one brief moment? And John can’t look at him, because, yes he fucking remembers and yes he knows he’s hurting Paul. But for whatever reason, (my theory is he wanted something more Paul couldn’t give him. What that was and whether it was ever specifically vocalized I don't have a guess) going back to that time would be more painful to John than this has been.  

So they’ve been goofing off and Paul gives this little speech to get them back on task. “Alright Chawn Love. I’ve gotta call order, John, now, valuable time, here, son. Cool down, son.” But John’s response, “Don’t let me down, babe” completely switches Paul’s gears. He now thinks it’s important enough to get in this little snatch of a *meaningful* cover, “Take these Chains from my Heart,” reversing the course of productivity he’d got them on and ignoring the fact that they were about to do a take on two-shilling-a-foot tape. My interpretation of this moment is a bit tin-hatish and long, but suffice it to say, John is not happy with the message.

Everyone convincing Paul to do another take of his song is surprising, considering everything we always hear about how Paul was a tyrant task-master who just forced everyone to keep doing his lame muzak over and over when they all clearly hated it. Mal, “You can always go back to it.” Paul, “Do you want your head kicked in?” John, “We’ll never get a chance to do it again.” Paul, “Okay, honey bunch. Let’s hit it one time, tutti-frutti.” 

Yoko watching Paul check out her boyfriend’s ass. Classic. Also the fact that she literally copied his outfit? I get so much second-hand embarrassment for her, and it’s not when she’s being a weirdo and a statement-maker. It’s the having to physically stick the gum you were offering your boyfriend into this hand because he won’t take his eyes off his boyfriend for two seconds to look at you. 

Everyone laughing at Perfect Paul being out of tune is so funny to me. Like when the nerd finally gets a question wrong and the whole class is all “ooooohhhh!”

Ringo having a grand old time on the drums. I love that he just knew that’s what he wanted to do from such a young age and he never wanted to do anything else. And why would he? He’s a genius at it.

Paul. “John’s got something at 1:30 and so have I.” Smirk emoji. Side-eye emoji. George is with me. “Yeah we've got something too. I’ll do Ringo at 1:30.” I'm dead.

This moment right here hurts me. Paul’s enjoying a nice cuddle with Ringo until he remembers the camera. You’re not going to get in trouble for having your friend’s arm around your shoulders, Paul. Why are you like this? 

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello there, glad to see you again, quick question how would the students, Professors and villains react to MC having an army of puffskein's like 27-41 puffskein's?

A/N: PUFFSKIENS ROLL OUT!! wait, wrong franchise-undercut because EVERYONE is here

HLC REACT TO MC'S PUFFSKIEN ARMY

MC had enough to swarm even the toughest camp. No one could handle the mass of cute they commanded. MC felt more powerful than if they were controlling an armada of dragons. Forget a few dozen. MC has HUNDREDS of rolly polly puff balls. They breed rather quickly

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He finds it hysterical! Watching MC command the flood of fur to overtake any suspicious encampment they come across is extremely entertaining. The enemies never know what hit them.

OMINIS GAUNT: He's not a fan of Puffskiens. He doesn't like their fascination with his nose. And for MC to willingly capture and breed so many of them is beyond him. He will never go inside the vivarium, even when invited.

ANNE SALLOW: She really likes hanging out in the vivariums. She can just lay down and be cuddled by hundreds of walking pillows. It's rather nice, as long as you wear nose plugs.

IMELDA REYES: Are they serious? No really, stop selling her this cock and bull story of puffskiens defeating wizards. She refuses to believe it until MC opens their nabsack and releases the horde. She has to escape them via broom.

NATSAI ONAI: She applauds MC's creativity. She is sure that the villains of the valley have many defenses against wizards, but who would expect puffskiens?

GARRETH WEASLEY: Unlimited puffskien fur. That's how he sees it. MC produces so much of the stuff, they could stuff a mattress.

LEANDER PREWETT: ...hhwat? This has got to be the single most insane thing he's ever heard of. A literal puffskien army? This will go down in the history books alongside the Bard that tried to teach trolls ballet.

AMIT THAKKAR: Are they sure that's actually safe? For them or the puffskiens? He knows the little things are pretty durable to magic, but they're not invulnerable.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He begs MC to let him borrow the nabsack to use in the Ravenclaw dorm. Why? They'll see.

POPPY SWEETING: This is a lot, even for her. Is MC sure they can handle this many beasts? They may be small, and relatively docile, but they can be quite a handful even in small groups. She does love the irony of poachers and dark wizards being defeated by them, however.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: He'll admit, of all the ideas MC has had, this is one of the weirder ones. As long as they're sure they can actually take care of all those beasts, he won't interfere.

MATILDA WEASLEY: MC is doing what with an army of what? Nonono, absolutely not. MC getting themselves into trouble on purpose is bad enough, but she cannot allow a student to run amok with an irresponsible number of beasts in their pocket. She will confiscate that nabsack until MC can use it responsibly.

CHIYO KOGAWA: She's impressed. No matter how small, magical creatures tend to have minds of their own. One has to be a pretty strong leader to maintain control over such a large group.

AESOP SHARP: As long as those beasts aren't running amuck in the castle, he doesn't give a niffler's ass.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He is endlessly amused by MC's depth for whimsy, even in dire circumstances. Fighting off villains with Puffskiens? BRILLIANT!

MIRABEL GARLICK: Oh dear, she hopes MC is able to care and feed for all of those beasts. That seems like quite a few to take care of.

MUDIWA ONAI: Is this...normal for British wizards? Seems a bit eccentric.

BAI HOWIN: That's one way to handle the poaching problem, she supposes.

DINAH HECAT: She'll have a drink with Sharp. This isn't any of her concern. MC is doing just fine. Calm down Matilda, honestly.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He never knows the goings on outside of his classroom.

SATYAVATI SHAH: She swears on the nine realms, if she finds ONE puffskien hair in her classroom, she's taking house points.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: A student fighting dark wizards with puffskiens? Please, don't bore him with outright lies. He's too clever for those.

~~~

VICTOR ROOKWOOD: This is ridiculous!! It's bad enough he's losing territory and respect within the valley, but for his gang to be dismantled by bloody puffskiens!? It's embarrassing, to put it lightly.

ASHWINDERS: They're confused by the messages sent to them by Rookwood. "Beware the Puffskiens?" What's he going on about? They find out soon enough when the earth rumbles with rolling thunder as hundreds of fur balls descend on them.

POACHERS: Interestingly enough, puffskiens have been extraordinarily hard to find as of late. Perhaps they over poached the area and now they're gone. At least that's what they think, under they're buried under a mountain of fur.

RANROK: What. The actual. Grogtash? He has seen and heard of wizards doing some wacky things to fight back, but this is a first. Even when his loyalists use dark ancient magic against the horde, their numbers are too great.

~~~

DUNCAN HOBHOUSE: Lives in constant fear of the puffskien invasion. He sees them in his sleep. Hundreds of long, hungry tongues come to eat his brain! If he sees MC in the corridors, he runs away.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Hello ! I just discovered your blog, and it's sooo good ! I am also French, so I'm happy ! I just want to ask : what king of voice the skellies have ? I'm really curious about it !

Thank you! Glad to see other Frenchies around! We're at least 4 in this community now lmao.

Undertale Sans - He has a nice deep voice, but he doesn't talk very loud, except when he laughs, where he's actually incredibly loud and makes you realize that Papyrus and him are really brothers. He never raises his voice, even when he's angry. It's all in the tone. He can be super warm and friendly just as extremely cold and distant if he wants to.

Undertale Papyrus - Loud. So so loud. Papyrus is extremely expressive and screams when he's happy or excited. Other than that, he has two voices. The one to impress people, being silly and showing off (even though not a lot of people are actually impressed), and the casual voice for his friends and family, where he's actually a lot more calm and natural. Papyrus rarely gets angry (he plays around when he's falsely angry, but never when he truly is), but when he is, people usually never want to make him angry again. Papyrus can be awfully terrifying when he's mad, and well, it reminds some people that even he can have bad days sometimes, and is not forced to be everyone's funny guy. It's still really rare.

Underswap Sans - He has a pretty deep voice, like Sans, but he can modulate it to sound less deep. He actually doesn't like talking too deep, because it's aging him. He prefers an energetic and very expressive voice. He still uses the deep voice when he fails to get the attention he asks, or when he's mad. He's definitely using the deep voice to flirt too. He loves flirting.

Underswap Papyrus - A bit like his Undyne, he tends to stutter on words. He often struggles to make himself clear, and he often sounds like he's not taking anything seriously when really, it's just his anxiety speaking. He's usually silent and even has days where he's non-verbal at all because he's too stressed. He never raises his voice either, which often causes people to ignore him in conversations, because he's scared to say what he wants to say, or scared he's going to mess up. He has a comforting voice though, and when he feels safe, he is definitely talking a little more to show he cares, especially when he's exciting about something.

Underfell Sans - He has a deep deep voice and a hell of an accent. He lost a lot of teeth Underground, so he struggles to make some sounds. And since he's lazy, he tends to abbreviate complicated words so he doesn't have to say them. It's usually hard to understand him at first, but everyone gets used to it at some point because he's a charmer and knows how to play his cards right. He's swearing and cursing a lot, even when he's happy, and even around children. He can't help it, it's entirely in his language. He can sound very scary when he's mad though. It's mainly a bluff to send people away because honestly, he can fight small monsters and drunk humans, but definitely not the big ones, but he likes to scare the people he likes too sometimes because he loves being a pain in the ass.

Underfell Papyrus - His voice is very annoying. He's a lot louder than classic Papyrus, and he has no chill. He gets angry or frustrated very fast, and when he's angry or frustrated, he immediately raises his voice to keep control of the situation. Like Red, it's total bluff, because he learned really small that the scariest you look, the more power you have over people. He tries to control it, but old habits are hard. However, it's easy to understand him, because he talks actually really well, sometimes with an elitist vocabulary. His old instructor in the Royal Guard said that being strong is nothing if you can't make a suspect talk, and he kinda beat him and the other soldiers up until they learned to talk like distinguished people the King could present in important meetings. So yeah, he's more educated than people can think, which doesn't stop him to curse and swear in a very familiar language when he's talking with Undyne or his brother. You definitely don't want to see him furious though. Edge was not nicknamed the Snowdin's Tyran for nothing. He's truly terrifying when he's really really mad.

Horrortale Sans - Talking is hard, so most of the time, Oak prefers animal-like sounds as answers. People understand him like that, so why bother? After Undyne almost killed him, Oak stayed in a coma for half a year. When he woke up, he lost the most basic skills. He didn't know how to eat, how to walk... And how to talk. Willow had to find a way to make his memory work so his old knowledges come back, but for almost two years, Oak couldn't talk. And obviously, it left some sequels. It's mostly why he's more animalistic than his old safe. Walking on all four was easier, just like growling like an angry bear to show displeasure. Even years after, Oak is mostly silent. When he talks, it's always very slow as he tries to not mess up his words. The fact that he tends to forget what he was saying in the middle of his sentence is definitely not helping though. So usually, he prefers to write when he has something big to say, as it's easier to focus on his notebook. At least, you know when he's happy because of his very deep loud tractor noise purr.

Horrortale Papyrus - His voice is similar to his old self, but he had a hard time Underground, mainly because of how painful his damaged teeth were. He had the brilliant idea to try to eat rocks when he was too hungry, but it damaged his teeth. Undyne breaking his jaw during their last encounter for sure didn't help to fix the problem, as for a long time, talking was very painful. With a lot of patience and a lot of work, dentists managed to ease the pain, and so he feels himself again (even though not really, as Willow dissociates completely from his old self. He struggles not to imagine that old Papyrus was actually him at some point :( )

Swapfell Sans - He talks like an English aristocrat. Mainly because he is an aristocrat. Even if he was dumped in the streets at a very young age, he became the Queen's favorite fast and she kinda mothered him until he got educated enough to talk like a future monarch. Well, for sure, maybe that should have trigger him sooner that she wanted him to be her heir, but he had other problems at the time. Nox is really good at arguing with people, and he definitely has a deep nice voice that helps to get to the point. He has a very rich vocabulary and sometimes talks like an old man, which never fails to amuse Rus, who is teasing him to death. It's hard to change his mind when he decides something though. He rarely gets angry or frustrated, as Toriel taught him to stay calm whatever how bad the situation is. I like to imagine him a bit like Levaï in Attack on Titans, but a little less vulgar, even though he can insult people (always with class though, you'll never hear him say shit or fuck).

Swapfell Papyrus - Unfortunately, he didn't have his brother's education, and even if Nox tried desperately to teach him, Rus decided he wanted to do things his way. Rus' voice is... something lol. You're not sure what his voice really is actually, because he can mimic every tone, every voice, every animal sound, that's his little superpower. He's super good at mimicking people, and so he tends to use a lot of voices all at once, depending on the situation. He's insolent, he's cursing and insulting a lot, and he will definitely push topics until you show him clearly you have enough. He never sounds mad, even when he is, hiding everything behind his humor, which usually turns cold or dark when he's angry. Rus is actually not too sure who he is really. He spent too much time playing roles, and he's not sure which voice is the real him anymore. He still has a long way to recover from all the abuse Underground, but he's not sure if he wants to heal yet, it scares him. So for now, humor and provocation is his best defense against everything.

Fellswap Gold Sans - His voice is always gentle and nice, but with a you're not sure what that doesn't sound right. Wine is an excellent negotiator and by extension a very good manipulator. Words are strategy and he uses them with care to get what he wants, even if it means sounding insensitive and careless. Wine takes the longest time to warm up, that's why he doesn't have very good luck in his love life. He's rude, brutally honest and doesn't hesitate to say when something is bothering him. A bit like Nox, he's definitely an aristocrat and talks like such. He's very proud of his education and learned really early that words have as much power as weapons. He's extremely dangerous because you can never tell when he's angry or not. And usually, when he is, you notice it when it's too late.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He has only two moods: very enthusiastic, sounding almost childish, and getting overexcited over the little things, and complete panic when someone is meeting his eyes and wants to talk to him. Coffee struggled to make himself understand since he was a kid, mainly because Wine never left his side and kinda translated everything to the other people. But that comes with consequences: he lacks the basic social skills to hold a conversation as an adult. He is always scared to say something wrong and gets usually completely paralyzed when he can't control the situation. When it happens, he switches to being nonverbal. He knows sign language, and he's actually more comfortable talking like this with his favorite people. He panics less when he doesn't have to use his voice.

[polish-art-tournament]

photography round 1 poll 11

Russian army tents at the Castle Square in Warsaw, 1861:

submitted description: a 19th century sepia photo. view of the castle square and the opening of krakowskie przedmieście street in warsaw. the wall of the royal castle on the left, sigismund's column on the right. in front of the castle there are rows of white military tents.

propaganda: despite the scary and violent reality of what the photo depicts (it was taken after the russians imposed martial law in october 1861), the photo to me is quite beautiful? the light is absolutely stunning. and the white tents look very innocent in contrast to what they mean for the people living in warsaw at that time

Krakowskie Przedmieście in Warsaw during the Corpus Christi procession, 1861:

submitted description: 19th century sepia photo. krakowskie przedmieście street in warsaw. a huge crowd of people clothed mostly in dark colors walking away from the camera in the direction of the royal castle. some of them carry umbrellas.

propaganda: honestly everyone should read up on the year 1861 in poland, it was bonkers. (wikipedia for beginners and the book "przed nocą styczniową" by barbara petrozolin-skowrońska for the advanced). or the whole 1859-62 period. there's failed politial assassinations! solidarity between different religions! more and less competent plotting! russian generals duelling stupidly! people doing really heroic things and people doing extremely stupid things, and people clowining on the oppressive government, and everything. and besides, the photos of this corpus christi procession/ political demonstration remind me of all the impressive big protests we had in poland since like 2016. i love it when people organize and mobilize against the pricks in power, and it's such a universal thing across centuries

about the artist: Karol Beyer was the very first professional photographer in warsaw. he is the author of many photos of famous people and famous events from that time. besides warsaw he also took photos of other cities in all parts of the partitioned country. during the january uprising he was arrested and deported to russia because of his role as the photographer of the 1860s protests and his links to the people who organized them.

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt27

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Marinette walked down the stairs to find Cass scowling at Bruce and signing rapidly. Selina was whispering with her Maman, who looked far too amused, so Cass had to be laying into him pretty hard. Damian was looking on in confusion, but the other boys were nodding along with whatever her twin was saying. She really needed to have Cass teach her to sign. Chloe appeared next to her.

"I'm actually learning new terms. You sister is extremely creative with swearing." Of course, that would be what impressed Chloe. Mari had to wonder how much of it was just not knowing common terms, so she made up her own.

"I don't want to mess up her relationship with him." Chloe scoffed.

"Given the way the others are reacting, this isn't the first, or worst, of his overstepping. I'm thinking this is a long overdue rant."

"You did what when I was with Babs?" Dick's indignant shout startled most of the room. "Yeah, I'm never bringing anyone home ever again. Not unless I've been married for two years." Mari sent Chloe a questioning glance.

"Trust me, you don't want to know." Yeah, if Chloe was saying that... she really didn't want to know.

"You've never known when to butt out, old man. The difference this time is that you don't have any right to butt in in the first place." Jason's tone was downright hostile.

"She's my daughter."

"A biological connection doesn't mean you own me. I'll be eighteen in three months anyway and I'm completely financially independent, so if you want any type of relationship with me, it's going to be on my terms, Mr. Wayne. Those terms will include not interfering in my relationships with others, romantic or otherwise, and not telling me how I'm allowed to live my life." He looked like he was going to argue, but Cass signed at him before standing beside Mari. He looked at the boys for help, but the only one not glaring at him was Damian.

"Marinette, you're young. You have no idea the danger-"

"Do not pretend you know anything about me or my life, let alone what I do and do not know. I assure you, I know what I'm doing, and Luka and Kagami are not a threat or a problem. If you can't accept that, then you can leave." She hadn't wanted to get to this point so soon, especially since it put Cass's ability to stay in question. Unfortunately, she also wasn't willing to set a precedent with him by letting him think he could act this way with her. She'd been around enough powerful people to know that if she didn't set boundaries now, she'd never be able to enforce them. Jagged was proof of that.

"Perhaps we should discuss this privately." No way was that happening. She could almost see the hero lecture waiting to burst out of him.

"After what you just tried to pull, and your apparent history of browbeating your kids into things, we're not about to let that happen." Tom's voice was harder than she'd ever heard it. "If you won't respect my daughter's boundaries, you'll be asked to leave." The emphasis he put on 'my daughter' caused Bruce to flinch. She would feel worse about it if not for the fact that all her siblings, besides Damian, seemed to approve of it.

"I think we should separate for the time being, and try this again later. Tempers are high, so we all need space to calm down." Sabine sounded cheerful enough, but there was a hard edge to her words that everyone caught. As much as Mari thought it was a good idea, they were in a bit of a time crunch.

"Given that they're only going to be here for a week, it might be best to get things settled. But, if Bruce isn't willing to compromise, there's not much point in continuing this discussion." She could hear how tired she sounded and given the concerned looks at her and glares at Bruce, everyone else could, too.

"By compromise you mean letting you decide everything." The sulkiness in Bruce's voice made her roll her eyes. Yes, this had to suck for him, but he couldn't honestly expect her to let him just take over her life.

"No, but there are going to be things that aren't negotiable. I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, and I'd appreciate the same courtesy. We know next to nothing about eachother, and until we do it's not really fair to have an opinion on each other's lives." He didn't seem to know what to do with that. She was sure that, for a man used to being in charge, it wasn't something he had experience with. "I want to get to know you, all of you, but I'm not going to change who I am or how I live my life to do it. If you can't accept that, you can leave."

Cass hugged her from behind, and Mari could feel her twin glaring at Bruce. As much as she had hoped it wouldn't be necessary, it was obvious who Cass would side with in this. Of the boys, Jason seemed firmly entrenched on her side, Dick and Tim were more of a neutral, and Damian just seemed confused, but he'd most likely side with Bruce for the time being. Hopefully, it wouldn't destroy her chance of getting to know him permanently. When it became obvious Bruce either couldn't or wouldn't back down, Selina went over to start whispering in his ear. Alfred had been scarily silent through everything, and Mari really wasn't certain what to make of it.

"You need my help." Selina rolled her eyes, and Alfred just shook his head. The man really needed to learn when to back down.

"I need Cass. That's it." He flinched, and even the boys were trading looks. Bruce was closing off. She could see it. "I need to show Cass her new school. Why don't you take the evening to think things over? We can try this again tomorrow when everyone is calmer." Bruce looked about ready to explode.

"That sounds like a good idea. Master Bruce, we should head back to the hotel." The glare Bruce sent Alfred didn't phase the man at all. The stern look he sent back had the boys looking like they were ready to wet themselves.

"Fine." Bruce signed something at Cass and she felt her twin stiffen up behind her. Chloe looked like she was about to start screaming at him, too.

"Miss Cassandra will be staying with Miss Marinette. Indefinately." Alfred's tone was frigid and just about everyone seemed to be cowering or eyeing the man like he was going to explode. Even Bruce hunched in on himself a tiny bit. "Now we really should be on our way."

Mari had a feeling Alfred was going to be having a long conversation with Bruce. She just hoped it had the desired outcome. The man obviously had control issues, and she couldn't afford to have him try to take over her life. She had a feeling she was already going to have a major issue with Batman trying to step on her toes once he actually went through an Akuma attack. She couldn't count on there not being one before he and the others went home. Not to mention, if she'd heard right, he could just use some tech the Justice League had to teleport back at any time. She'd have to ask Cass about that, too.

Selina practically pushed Bruce out the door, while the boys followed under Alfred's gaze. Before going joining the rest, Jason shoved a piece of paper in her hand with a wink. She had a feeling he was one brother she could count on not to run to Bruce with information.

Once they were all out of the door, Mari felt herself relax. She felt terrible that things had gone downhill so quickly, but there really wasn't another option at this point. She couldn't afford to show weakness. There was far too much at stake, both in her personal life and as a hero. Cass tightened her hold on Mari.

"He needs time. He'll calm down."

"Unfortunately, time isn't something we have right now. If this doesn't get better, I'm going to have to force him to leave Paris before Hawkmoth is back in fighting form." She didn't even want to think about how much that would piss him off. She had a feeling Batman's ego wouldn't take too well to being thrown out of a city by another hero. Alfred and Selina would take her side... at least she thought so.

"Alfred will make things right." She wasn't quite sure what Cass meant by that, but she hoped she was right. She opened the paper that Jason handed her and heard Cass giggle behind her.

If you need someone to help you hassle B, give me a shout. ~Jason

It had five phone numbers on it. If she didn't know his 'occupation', it would seem excessive. It did mean she had at least one of her brothers on her side when it came to Bruce though. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be determined.

"Why don't we head over to the school? There are a few clubs meeting, so I know the building is open. That way, you can get a feel for the layout before tomorrow." She knew it would stress Cass out if they didn't scope out the building. It was going to be bad enough being around so many new people.

"You don't want to eat first?" Given the looks her Maman was shooting at the door, she was more worried about them running into Bruce than the actual food, but it was a good idea anyway.

"Of course, Maman. We wouldn't want it to go to waste." Especially since she made enough to feed the whole city again. Maybe she should text Jason and see if he wanted to meet them at the school and they could bring him some. "Maybe we could take some to go as well. I wanted to show Cass the houseboat, and if it's late enough, we might stay there." It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth.

"Probably a good idea. It'll give your father and I time to talk to Bruce should he decide to come looking for you." She really hoped he didn't. Her Maman might actually kill him. She would text Selina or Alfred to make sure he didn't come over, but she had a feeling that would have the opposite effect she was looking for. After they ate and while her Maman was boxing up food, her Papa motioned her out into the hallway.

"What's wrong?" She heard the panic in her own voice and her Papa winced.

"Nothing's wrong. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to make sure you were handling everything alright. I know things have been tense, and you tend to overthink everything without letting anyone know." She leaned forward slightly, and that's all it took for him to envelop her in a hug. Her Papa gave the best hugs.

"What if he makes her go back?" She knew it was an irrational thought, but it wouldn't go away. Her Papa hugged her tighter.

"That's not going to happen. We won't let it, and more importantly, Cass won't let it. I truly don't believe there's a force strong enough to separate the two of you. And if there is, Plagg will get rid of it." Marinette started giggling and couldn't stop. It was a little disturbing that she found the image of Plagg getting rid or Bruce amusing, but she was willing to chalk it up to stress.

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