#Obscene extreme festival

[thethcministry]

[metalspitfire6g6g6g]

~Obscene Extreme 25 Years Festival~...(YOU should go!)

[incognit0slut]

ok song request idea: dress by taylor swift. like spence and reader work together and everyone just thinks they’re best friends but in reality they are much more. anyways the team goes out and reader wears a special little dress and spencer goes a little crazy and yeah that’s the idea

Such a perfect song, thank you for the idea! And btw this is just very witty writing please enjoy my sense of humor yall🙂

Take it off

or in summary, the one where Spencer has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

cw: 18+ implied sexual content but nothing too explicit; wc: 1.8k

MASTERLIST

“…only bought this dress so you could take it off…”

IT STARTED WITH A GLANCE. The subtle look he gave on her arrival at this dinner festivity the team decided to put together had him quivering in his seat, his eyes almost bulging out of its socket as they roamed across the piece of clothing plastered on her body, or perhaps, the lack of it. The silk material hugged her curves so effortlessly, highlighting the way her luscious body was pressed along the short fabric that he was so close to whimpering like a dog.

It was an obscene thought, one he never considered crossing his mind and one that would leave him extremely appalled if anyone knew the truth of it. Comparing himself to a domestic mammal just because he was prone to submit to a master...

He must be mad. Utterly, completely out of his mind.

Yet he couldn't help it. Not when he was practically following her with an imaginary tail wagging between his legs. Not when she looked like a goddess and he was inclined to worship her existence. It was a sense of devotion and adoration, like a feeling of reverence for her curves and figure, for the way she carried herself every time she moved.

It was an intense sensation that was hard to explain, but Spencer would describe it as close to paying tribute to her beauty. To everything about her. Not only was the feeling overwhelming, but it was also intoxicating how the stolen glances enticed the need to reach out and feel those curves right in the palm of his hands.

It was torture. It was an incredibly torturous endurance to be held in his place while she looked like that. Smooth legs, exposed back, and soft cleavage teasing his whim. She also smelled incredibly delicious. A fragrance of delicate flowers with a hint of warm vanilla that made him dizzy with need. He needed to be kept on a leash before he did something he would regret.

Because he needed to behave. Between undressing her with his eyes and wanting to grab her by the waist just to ravish her completely, he needed to keep his calm between his peers, especially when Prentiss had accidentally caught him staring—which he had to mask as finding a newfound interest in the tablecloth single-handedly picked by Rossi, the host of this joyous event.

But it was getting hard to conceal his shaking hands, to act as if he wasn’t craving her touch. It was getting even harder when she suddenly came up to him later that night as he stood by the dessert table, a variety of sweetened goods bought from the most authentic patisserie in town.

"Hey, Spencer." Dear god, even her voice sounded like velvet to him. He watched as her lips slipped into a taunting smile. "You look handsome tonight."

He looked down at his attire. He was never one to put much thought into his choice of clothing, his concern mainly for comfort, not for style. But tonight he adorned himself in a crisp white button-down under the best suit jacket he possessed. It's a black-tie event, Rossi had said the day before. He wasn't sure why his colleague wanted to host a simple dinner into a fancy soirée, but he was a mere guest, and he'd follow anything the host of the night instructed.

He also felt rather silly wearing this bowtie, but after hearing her genuine compliment, it gave him a sense of pride and joy. It also gave him a boost of confidence as he took a step closer, his eyes raking over her body very slowly as if he was taking his time relishing the stunning view in front of him.

She felt the intensity of his gaze as he muttered, "And you look unbelievably irresistible."

A choked laughter slipped out of her mouth. Talking to Spencer had always been interesting, especially whenever he had something factual to share, but the whimsical words coming out of his mouth was what amused her the most.

"I'm told that I look pretty tonight, but I do like that better." She lifted her glass to her lips and noticed the way his eyes lingered on the top of her dress, a full display of cleavage visible to his enjoyment. "So I take it you're fond of the dress?"

"It's exquisite." She giggled at his choice of words. But then the amusement in her eyes slipped into bewilderment as he continued, "Although as much as I enjoy seeing it on your body, I think prefer it on the floor."

It took all of her abilities not to spit out the sweet taste of the expensive wine she just sipped in her mouth. She had to swallow the liquid down her throat and take a deep breath before she could do anything, her mind haunted by the specter of his hands fiddling the zipper on her back, rough fingers grazing her skin as they slowly slid down her body.

"Spencer," she finally murmured, trying to sound disapproving, but it was far too husky.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I'm being honest."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

What was he scheming? What kind of game was he playing, proposing suggestive words, pushing all of her buttons beneath the innocent look he portrayed? The air was suddenly charged with tension. It was a palpable sensation of yearning and lust that came with a sense of danger and risk. It was like a wave of heat washing over her, a very primal and overwhelming feeling that was extremely difficult to control.

Deciding that she wanted to participate in his game, she knew the only way to get the upper hand was to give him a taste of his own medicine. She twisted her head and peered at him through her lashes before executing her revenge.

"Then it's a good thing I bought it so you could take it off."

Perhaps to those around them, they looked like good friends engaging in an innocent banter, heads together, whispering silly jokes. Not in the middle of exchanging explicit promises while he attempted to school his expression on the suggestion she was spouting.

He leveled her gaze. "Statistically speaking, ripping it off would give me a higher chance to do the things I want to do to you sooner."

"Yeah?" She quirked an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by this. "Give me a number then."

"Well, satin is a very delicate fabric and is quite frail and fragile. So it would take me approximately..." He looked away, marveling at the possibilities, before assessing her with a look that had her feeling extremely flustered. "...three seconds to rip it off."

Her tongue swiped her bottom lip while his eyes followed the movement. "You’d actually rip the dress?"

His gaze lingered on her mouth. "In a heartbeat."

"It's very expensive."

"I'll buy you a new one."

Her head was spinning. The image of his large hands gripping onto the fabric and tearing it apart should've repulse her, it was such a primal thing to do that it seemed so close to an animal-like instinct. Like a dog. Like a wolf. With the heat of his gaze, she was sure he could even devour her the moment his hands touched her skin. Eating her whole would be an extreme notion, but eating her like a man starved as he buried his head between her thighs was something she considered possible.

His gaze was so intense that she had to look away to calm her breathing, to let her heart normalize its pace. But then she felt fingertips brush her shoulder. It was light, almost imperceptible, causing a shiver to run down her spine; goosebumps breaking out all over her limbs. This was extremely dangerous, but he had some kind of pull toward her and all the rational thought keeping her sane flew out the window.

She bit her bottom lip as those warm fingers made their way down the sensitive skin of her inner bicep, then slowly made their way down her forearm. It wasn't until she felt the pressure of his palm on her backside that she gasped in surprise. And it wasn't light—oh no, it was immensely rough. His hand gripped onto her left cheek with utmost force, squeezing it thoroughly that she had to straighten herself, her eyes going frantic.

"Spencer!" She hissed, looking around them as she swat his arm away.

"I'm sorry! I can't help it." He cocked his head, his eyes still piercing onto her ass as his intrusive thought won over him. "What underwear are you wearing? You’re incredibly smooth."

She didn't know whether to laugh or hit some sense into him. "Please behave, someone might see us."

"But they didn't." He gave her a sheepish smile, nodding his head towards their friends who were deep in conversation with one another. "And they won't."

She held the urge to roll her eyes. "Just keep your hands to yourself, Dr. Reid."

"Or what?"

"Or..." She glanced at him, noticing the way he was watching her. The sparkle in those hazel orbs was enticing, they were somewhat deep in this pleading yet captivating manner that reminded her of doe, puppy-like eyes. Seeing this she couldn't help but muster, "Or I might have to put you on a leash."

The heat creeping along his cheeks was enough for her to spew out an amused laugh. "Spencer Reid," she goaded, enjoying the way he was flustering over her teasing. "Didn't know you had it in you."

Spencer looked away, clearly embarrassed being caught of his lewd thoughts. He was trying to avoid her gaze as he picked up his forgotten glass resting on the table. She couldn't stop herself as she leaned forward on her heels and hid herself from any onlookers, slightly settling her lips on the crook of his neck, inches away from tasting his skin.

"And to answer your question," she whispered, waiting for him to casually take a lazy sip of his drink. "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

She couldn't help the triumphant smirk as he choked on the mouthful of wine he just swallowed. He then gaped at her, absolutely flabbergasted, and she gave him one last blistering look before excusing herself on the pretense of the bathrooms. Her hips swayed with every move it was hard for him to look away, because all he could think of now was to run his hand up her thighs just to be greeted with soft, wet folds aching to be touched. Aching to be tasted.

It took a lot of self-control for him not to bark.

[jymwahuwu]

@blbrrymilk A gift for dear wren!!! You inspired me to write Sampo and mini reader😚💖 This is my first time describing Sampo and I hope my description of him is passable...

cw: yandere, non-consensual touching, forced orgasm, mini reader, extreme size kink, reader has female reproductive system

So from the current version, we know that Sampo belongs to the Masked Fools organization. Taking back the mask equals taking back the power. What if Sampo learned at Penacony how to turn you into a mini size…

You kept rolling your eyes at Sampo, laughing at him. This merchant is really unserious and often sends you some fraudulent or obscene messages. He usually reports his whereabouts to you in real time (you can't block him, not sure why) but you haven't seen him in the last few days.

Sampo appears at your doorstep like a gift from heaven. Not really surprised. As soon as you opened the door and saw him, you closed the door again. He held the door frame with his hands and fought hard with you, explaining to you that he forgot to bring his wallet and could not go home now and would probably faint from hunger in the snow and ice. He claims that the "thin and pitiful" figure will be covered in ice and snow if you choose to ignore him. You sighed. "Okay. Come in. You're only allowed to stay for a moment."

You walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of steaming warm tea for the guest. It was so flattering that you gave him tea. His smile was like overflowing water, and he was holding tea in his hands, blowing and sipping. You rested your chin on your palm and squinted at him, "Where have you been recently?"

"Ah." Sampo's smile was slightly mysterious. "You'll find out soon enough."

A question mark appears in your mind. You clicked your tongue. "Pretending to be mysterious, huh." But in the next second, you see yourself getting smaller and smaller, shrinking until you become a little thing. With your eyes widened, you sat on the floor and looked up at the "giant" Sampo.

"As I expected, you look super-super cute like this! The Festival Planet is indeed extraordinary." His smile almost reached behind his ears, his face flushed abnormally, and he held you in his palms. You panicked and struggled, a pair of small hands patted his palm, but it was too gentle, like scratching an itch. "What- What did you do to me?"

"My dear, it's just some small adjustments." Sampo didn't have time to explain to you. Witnessing your helpless and completely manipulated posture, he felt a tingle of pleasure pass down his back and face. His thumbs lift up your top, slowly and carefully using his nails to pull your bra up so as not to hurt you. A warm breath hit your face. Taking off your underwear and lower body clothing can be done in the blink of an eye.

It’s just that your mini hands holding onto your panties are so cute. To avoid hurting your dignity, Sampo pretended for a few seconds that you were strong enough to resist him. "Stop, you're going too far!" you screamed, covering your bare breasts and private parts with your hands. "Awww am I going too far? This isn't good - because I'm going to continue anyway."

The thumb of his left hand pressed against one of your thighs, while the other thumb rubbed your mini clit and slit. You can't move at all. Sampo is like an irresistible, unshakable mountain. His smile widened as the small wet stain stained his thumb. "Look! Honey, you like this too - you like to be touched…" "I don't!" The bursts of pleasure are transmitted to your core, but you insist on denying him, feeling a little aggrieved and your nose is sore. "You ungrateful bastard…I let you in just to help you…" And the result of your good deeds was that you were stripped naked, turned into a mini and groped.

"Oh, I'm sorry…honey." Sampo's eyes softened, apologetically and appreciatively, but his thumb rubbed quickly. "I just like you so much, how about we try something new together? I promise it will be very comfortable!"

Sampo took out a small black stand from his pocket. You have no idea what it is, but you have an ominous feeling. As expected, Sampo locked your legs on top, while your hands were tied with gentle gift ropes, and two small vibrators were glued to your chest. Drop you into a snowy crystal ball with a view of Belobog. He took the small broom and continued to tease and brush your private parts. You squirted uncontrollably in the simulated snow scene, over and over again. Your soft moans and sobs echoed in the crystal ball.

There is no doubt that the lewd displays and teasing are endless…

[suzdin]

DATURA

Summary: Dave and his team have been sent to kill you, but the night pans out differently than you anticipate.

Warnings: ¡SEX POLLEN! Implied noncon due to sex pollen. Fictional drug use. Mentions of weapons/guns/murder (duh). Threeway sex. Gun play, unprotected p in v, creampies, masturbation (f), fingering, spit roasting, oral (m receiving), use of sex toy on reader, anal, spitting, light degradation, choking, spanking, rough sex, squirting, let me know if I missed anything. No use of y/n. Picture is for aesthetics only, as reader is not given a physical description.

This fic is extremely feral and not for everyone, and that’s okay. <3

Word Count: 4,800-ish

Taglist: @kellybelly1978 @ohheypedrito @darkheartgatita @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @sonderosa @missladym1981

And of course I dedicate this to @survivingandenduring and @kateispunk for holding a gun to my head until I wrote this inspiring me to write this 😘

——

Dave prods his index finger at the highlighted portions of the floor plans on the tablet, which he presents to his compatriots.

“There are entrances here, here…and here,” he points out, tapping the third for emphasis. “She’ll be expecting those. Watching them.”

Dave brushes his bottom lip with his thumb, brow creasing in contemplation.

“Ari and Resnik can head off the two main entrances. Joel, you take the side. And I’ll enter…here.” He places a finger where there’s a hastily drawn ‘X’ facing a private alley and courtyard.

“Don’t see a door or window,” the tall, tan man to his left drawls, placing a hand on his hip.

“Right. There’s a secret entrance there which leads to a crawl space left over from the city’s bootlegging days. None of the residents know. And guess where it exits?” Dave asks, eyes darting between the three men.

He places a finger where the bedroom closet would be.

A smirk twists Joel’s mustache. “Shit,” he says, scratching thick, weathered fingers through his scruff. “Gonna hit ‘er from all sides.”

“Exactly,” Dave responds, mirroring the way his companion places his hands on his hips. “We’ll strike at 10 PM sharp. That’s when the main festivities begin. No one will hear a thing.”

——

Dave crouches next to the hatch that leads to the secret door beneath the building, long since defunct due to the city’s proclivity for flooding.

A crackle resonates through his ear piece.

“Miller. Anything?” Dave asks.

“Nothin’,” Joel answers in a low southern lilt, positioned at the bottom of the narrow stairwell on the east side of the building, clicking the safety off on his Glock.

“Ari, Resnik? Station yourselves. Miller, I’m going in.”

“10-4,” Joel returns.

Dave yanks up on the metal hatch and it opens with a jarring creak, drowned out by the roar of the crowds on Bourbon Street and another jazz band playing their rendition of Oh When The Saints Go Marching In for probably the 1,000th time that evening.

He slips in easily and finds a peeling red door, which is shockingly ajar. A stray cat rushes out with a shriek, spitting feline obscenities at him.

“Fuck!” Dave snarls as the dark, furry void streaks past him and into the night.

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel’s voice.

“Nothing. Fucking cat. I’m inside.”

A low, throaty chortle sounds through Dave’s ear piece.

“Eat shit, Miller. Start heading up. I should reach her apartment in five.”

“Unless there’s more cats guarding the place.” This time it’s Ari’s voice. Dave pointedly ignores him.

The crawl space is narrow and damp, crushing in at him from all sides and choked with cobwebs and god knows what else, but it’s surprisingly not the worst place he’s ever been.

The space quickly dead ends into a ladder that looks like it’s seen far better days, rusting from the bolts outward. Dave can’t help but wonder if it will support his full body weight.

“‘M at her front door,” Joel remarks through the ear piece.

“Climbing the ladder now,” Dave responds as he begins his ascent, gripping the bottom rung and giving it a hard jostle to test its integrity.

The metal rungs protest and groan under his weight, but the structure holds true.

The boys had thought it absolutely ludicrous when Dave had come to them for their help with the hit. Four men for one single woman?

Bullshit. A waste of time and resources.

That is until they’d familiarized themselves with your rap sheet. Just shy of forty murders in less than a decade, and a weapons and ballistics specialist to boot.

But it would all end tonight, and that price on your pretty little head would be a nice cherry on top.

He reaches the hatch leading into your closet a moment later, twisting the mechanism that holds it flush to the wooden floor above.

He draws the Beretta from the holster on his hip, clicking off the safety as he strains his hearing to listen for something, anything, that would give him pause; that would make him abort the mission.

He hears nothing but the music seeping in from the streets through the century old brick.

“I’m in, Joel. I’m in,” Dave whispers, lifting the hatch as he silently crawls inside your closet, the scent of you overwhelming his senses, making his nostrils flair. Cock already half hard in his dark denim jeans at the prospect of another name scratched off his list.

Your name.

——

Joel makes short work of unlocking your door, pushing it open with his foot as he replaces the Glock with the heavier semi-automatic at his back, holstering the pistol on his hip.

His face pinches. You hadn’t even locked the deadbolt, despite having one, a feeling of dread slithering up the crease of his scrotum, perspiration pricking at his skin.

You’ve been waiting for them.

You register Joel first, his heavy footfalls impossible to conceal under the creak of the original wooden flooring. It’s almost laughable how loud they’re being, Joel making a ruckus behind you and the other rustling somewhere in your closet, probably smelling your panties for all you know.

Joel finds you at an open window, back facing him as some loud pop song he doesn’t recognize drifts up from the Quarter below. You’re naked aside from a short, black pleated skirt that barely ghosts the lower curve of your ass, a silver and white fox tail peeking out from beneath the hem of said skirt.

Though he can’t see it from his current vantage, a gun rests on the window sill in front of you. You’re starting to think you won’t be needing it. Not when the man at your back could have already taken a clear shot at you and didn’t.

You lean slightly forward, revealing more of your ass to Joel and cheering as you catch a handful of colorful Mardi Gras beads from one of hundreds of floats below, waving your arms triumphantly over your head before you slip the necklaces around the lovely column of your neck.

Joel spots Dave then, mocha brown eyes shifting to his comrade, his expression unreadable. The Beretta drawn to shoulder height, trained at your head, but he isn’t pulling the trigger. Not yet.

Lowering the rifle, Joel lifts a fist in the air to signal to Dave, take the shot, asshole.

But he doesn’t, and neither does Joel, staring at your bared skin, the exposed hills and valleys of your body. Two men reduced to little more than their base desires in mere seconds. Exactly what you were expecting.

You finally shut the window and turn to face them when they do nothing but stand there, transfixed by your beauty. You’re wearing a masquerade mask in royal purple that’s trimmed with gold lace, cinched tightly behind your head.

You won’t be needing a gun when you can use sexuality as a weapon. It wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Took you long enough,” you admonish, eyes drifting back and forth between the two men.

The larger one is broad and older, unkempt curls swirling away from his head, dusted with silver. The beard tracing his jaw is dark and patchy, a thick mustache framing his upper lip.

A red and black flannel stretches across the expanse of his upper body, tucked into dark wash jeans, ending with heavy work boots. His eyes darken in their regard of you.

His companion is also broad, only just less so, and younger than his comrade by what you guess to be ten or fifteen years. His face is clean and smooth with the barest hint of shadow, plush lips pushed outward in bewilderment, a black beanie pulled down to conceal his dark hair, matching the rest of his attire.

“Love the outfit, but a bit on the nose, don’t you think?” you ask the younger of the two men. The edges of his lips twitch upward in amusement.

You sway your hips slightly, making the tail between your legs wag to and fro, enticing the two men to ease closer. And they do. Exactly where you want them.

Dave notices your fingers dancing across the lid of a small metal box in the nick of time.

A new party drug originating from Ibiza, its purpose intended to act as a powerful aphrodisiac amongst the most experimental, but as with most things, too much could be dangerous, in rare cases fatal. It usually came in tab form, but it had been sold to you as a fine powder, and your plan was to drug them senseless until they fucked each other to death or you killed them, depending on how bored you got.

You grasp the ornate metal box in your fingers and flick your wrist outward, hurling the contents in a direct trajectory at Dave’s face, which would have hit the intended target had he not been ready to deflect the strike with a hastily lobbed pillow from the nearby sofa.

The cloud the hit produces is magnificent, a shimmery white mist which coats your face and lips and everything else in its path, inhaled through your sinuses and entered through your bloodstream as traces of the powder land on your tastebuds.

You spit and claw at your face, but it’s too late, and you know it.

You’re fucked in more ways than one.

The affects are almost instantaneous, a fiery hot inferno that builds low in your core, a lance of pain sawing through you from the inside out. Your pupils dilate and everything is suddenly too bright, too painful, every source of illumination having a halo that almost resembles a mushroom cloud in its brilliance, its potency.

You feel the sticky slick coating the inside of your thighs and you double over, clutching your guts, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Whatsa matter, darlin’?” Joel asks, your show of pain bringing him immense joy. “Can’t handle what you dish out?”

His cock strains against his jeans as he watches you and you groan, spreading your legs as you slip a finger between your folds in a bid to quell some of the ache. “Fuck…” you grit.

“Jesus, York, the hell’s wrong with her?” Joel questions.

Dave can only stare, transfixed, palming himself over his jeans.

Both men can’t help but jump when Resnik’s voice comes through the ear piece, so lost in your body they almost forgot why they were there to begin with.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

“Good,” Dave responds. “We’re…negotiating.”

“Negoti— fucking seriously?”

“Yes,” Dave answers firmly, his voice a low and husky. “I’ll explain later. For now, stay in a holding pattern, and make sure no one enters the building.”

Resnik starts to say something else, but Dave flicks off the ear piece and tosses it to the floor before he can finish, already forgotten. Joel follows suit.

“Help, please,” you whimper, stepping toward Joel as you fumble in desperation at his jeans. “Need it bad. It hurts.”

Joel abandons his weapons, drunk at the sight of you. His massive hands circle your waist, squeezing, desirous, lifting your skirt to cup your ass, exposing the tail tucked between your cheeks to Dave. You keen and without thinking, Joel bends forward to press his lips to yours.

“Miller, stop —“ Dave spits sharply, but it’s too late. Joel kisses you, deep and wanton, tongue swiping hungrily at your lips, and within seconds he receives his own dose of the drug, though not nearly as much as you.

He spins you in his grasp and hikes your skirt even higher up your waist, revealing your pussy to Dave, dragging two thick, callused digits between your dripping folds, bumping your clit. You moan and press your ass against him, the hard line of his cock nudging at the plug, heightening your pleasure.

“Y’like that, darlin’?” Joel murmurs into the shell of your ear.

“Yes,” you answer too quickly. “But I need your cock.”

“That so?” he answers gruffly, making quick work of his jeans as he shucks them off like a second skin, the drug already firmly rooting itself in his brain.

He tugs his boxers down, fat cock springing free from its confines as he shoves you forward, folding you in half over the couch with a broad palm pressed between your shoulder blades, notching himself at your entrance and pushing himself inward with reckless abandon.

You grunt at the reprieve, the sting of how forcefully he invades you, how he fills you.

Dave watches the events unfold in stunned silence, lips parted and skewed, unbuckling his belt as his eyes fixate on your face, your lovely sparkling eyes. The way your mouth hangs open when Joel begins railing into you with everything he has to give.

He reaches forward and plucks the mask from your face, discarding it, so he can see you. See how well you take it.

He drags the pad of his thumb along your succulent bottom lip, pressing it against your tongue, to the back of your throat, teasing. Testing.

He exhales a groan when you don’t gag.

He quickly steps out of his jeans and boxers, climbing onto the couch in front of you, roughly gripping the sides of your face so that your lips pop open for him.

You take him into your mouth without question, mewling softly, your throat and jaw burning with effort as he sinks himself into you.

Dave presses the barrel of the gun against your temple, his voice a snarl as he says, “Try anything and I’ll spray your pretty little brains all over these walls, sweetheart. Understood?”

You nod around him in affirmation as he begins rutting into your mouth, his other hand fisted tightly in your hair.

It isn’t long before Joel drags your first orgasm out of you, every muscle in your body constricting, relieving the pain only temporarily before it flares up again, white hot and slithering through your veins like molten metal.

“Thassit, darlin’. Takin’ that dick like a champ,” Joel praises, giving your ass a sharp slap. Every thrust of his hips knocking against the plug secured firmly in your ring of muscle.

“Fucking whore, letting two men enter you,” Dave growls, the gun pressed so squarely against your skull, it’s sure to leave an indentation.

Joel finishes inside you expeditiously with a low growl, panting into the small of your back as he collapses forward, knees smarting.

“Quick on the draw as always, Miller,” Dave tuts, clicking his tongue.

Dave’s fingers twist at your roots as he pulls you further onto his length, bottoming out with a shudder at the back of your throat.

“Fuck off, York,” Joel retorts, still fully hard inside of you. He tugs at the end of the tail, smirking playfully, causing you to moan.

“What if I shoved my dick up your ass next, sweet girl?”

You whimper around Dave in reverence. For both of them.

“Not a chance. That ass is mine,” Dave snorts. “Soon as I’m done with this mouth.”

Joel doesn’t argue. Your pussy feels too good, the way you squeeze him, and it isn’t long before he’s railing you hard again, never having gone soft, even at his age.

You cum a second time, soaking Joel, your release splashing down his muscular thighs. Your moans reverberating through Dave’s cock.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last like this…” Dave grunts as he pulls himself free from you with a pop of your lips, jaw hanging slack as Joel’s unforgiving pace doesn’t falter behind you.

“Trade places, Joel,” Dave demands.

“Not a chance,” Joel growls, the sounds of his hips slamming against your ass lewd and depraved.

“Now, Miller,” Dave reiterates, eyes deepening a shade as he lifts the gun away from your head to aim it at Joel.

“Fuck,” Joel spits, extricating himself from you as he and Dave exchange places. “Fine.”

Joel’s wide palms cup your face and he doesn’t waste time stretching your jaw and throat beyond their limits because fuck, he’s girthy. You taste the cocktail of you and him on your tongue.

He circles the outside of your throat with his hand and squeezes, feeling himself moving in your esophagus, grunting deeply as he watches you take him.

You jolt when you feel something cold, rigid and foreign dashing through your folds a second later, realizing in abject horror what is happening just as Dave pushes it inside of you and begins fucking you with it.

You moan, eyelids fluttering closed and Joel grunts deep in his chest, hand tightening around the cradle of your throat.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, slut? You like being fucked with my gun?” Dave grits from behind you.

You make a sound of supplication that tells Dave yes, yes you do.

He grins in satisfaction and drives the gun deeper, angling it just right, making you keen. The resulting squelch is deafening and obscene.

He pulls another orgasm out of you almost immediately, once again temporarily relieving the bubbling pain, sobbing around Joel, who’s already filling your mouth with more of his seed, spilling down your throat with a snarl.

He slows only for a moment, still hard as iron, ready to go again. And again.

Dave drags his lips up the curve of your ass and sinks his teeth into the meat of one of your plump cheeks, clamping down. You writhe against him at the small dagger of pain that courses through you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Dave purrs, giving the smarting cheek a slap.

As he continues to fuck you with the barrel of the pistol, his other hand skirts your tight star of muscle, fingers dancing around it.

His hand curls into the synthetic material of the tail, reveling the softness against his fingertips, and begins to tug slowly, lightly, testing.

You initially clench out of instinct, but relax your muscles as understanding settles over you, allowing him to pull it free from your puckered hole, letting it drop to the couch.

“Such a good girl,” Dave croons, tilting his face forward to place a chaste kiss there, the tip of his tongue darting out to circle your rim. You whine and arch into his touch.

“You should have some of this drug, York. Y’won’t have to worry about lastin’ then.”

“No,” Dave says as he lifts his head above your ass to lock eyes with Joel. “One of us needs to keep a clear head.”

“C’mon,” Joel taunts, swiping a finger through the mix of powder and tears still on your face. “Have a taste. Live for once.”

Joel extends his offering to Dave, hovering just over your lower back, inches from Dave’s lips. The men stare each other down, each of their movements slowing, much to your displeasure.

Dave eventually resigns himself, taking Joel’s fingers into his mouth and giving them a good laving with his tongue, tasting the sweetness of the drug, the saltiness of your tears.

Without warning, Joel succumbs to another high, exhaling a sputtered groan as you swallow what he gives you — what little of it there is at this point.

The drug makes quick work of Dave, twisting him into some kind of untethered beast as he drags multiple orgasms out of you with the barrel of the gun, his tongue flicking hungrily against your ring of muscle.

There isn’t a part of you that isn’t on fire. With desire, pain, fear. Fear that this will never end, that these two men will rip you apart from the inside out before all is said and done, but in spite of yourself, in spite of everything, you don’t want it to end.

“Lie back, Joel,” Dave commands and Joel does so without hesitation, his age getting the better of him, welcoming the relief he’ll receive as he makes himself comfortable on your couch.

Likewise, you’re happy for your jaw to have a momentary reprieve, as well, rubbing your tired muscles with your fingers as you catch your breath.

“Get on top of him,” Dave barks at you.

You willingly climb atop Joel, panting, lining yourself up with the slick head of his shaft. Joel’s heavy arm comes up to bar across your hips, pushing you down onto him until you sink all the way to his curls. The new angle making you keen and arch.

Dave presses you forward until your chest is flush with Joel’s, flattening you out before him. Joel doesn’t miss the opportunity to wrap his lips around yours again, kissing you sloppily, roving the wet heat of your mouth with his tongue, making you whimper as you begin riding him.

Dave spreads your cheeks apart and spits a globule of saliva at your puckered entrance, pressing two digits inside easily.

“Good thing you already loosened up that ass for me. You can take both of us, can’t you, sweetheart?” Dave murmurs and you simply nod, not wanting to tear your mouth away from Joel.

He lines himself up, placing the weeping slit of his head against your muscle as he begins pushing inward, inch by agonizing inch. Though you’re properly loosened up, there’s still a slight sting as your muscles contract and pulsate around him, stretching to accommodate his size.

You pant in hitched breaths, never having felt so full, so sated, before. It’s like they’re everywhere inside of you, consuming every inch of you like rabid jackals. Joel’s arms lacing around both you and Dave as both men begin to move independently within you.

You soon discover why they work so well as a team. Within minutes their movements are synchronized, a coordinated dance with you placed right in the middle, every downward thrust from Dave immediately proceeded by an upward lance from Joel. And they somehow manage to maintain said synchronicity for quite some time, even as they’re filling you to the brim with their cum.

They pump you full of themselves and you continue to drench them with every orgasm they drag out of you, your shared fluids sluicing down your bodies, soaking the cushions of the couch below.

It’s okay, you can just burn it if you actually end up surviving this. But hey, if you don’t, what a way to go, right?

Everything begins to meld together after a while, lines and vision blurred, your bodies practically stitched together at the seams, a perilous dance between the three of you in the throes of passion when the drug reaches its peak.

Their hands paw at you, knead you, your flesh supple and malleable under their large palms. They dig their fingers in, branding you, bruising marks left in their wake. Your head twists to and fro, tongue snaking between your teeth as you alternate between locking lips with both of them. You aren’t certain, but you think you see Joel and Dave link lips a few times as well, but it’s difficult to ascertain for sure, each scene of debauchery bleeding right into the next.

It goes on like that for hours, Dave and Joel occasionally switching roles, manipulating your overwrought body into a host of varying positions.

You have to stop a few times. For water, or just to take a break and a quick breather before you’re at it again, both men claiming your body like the primitive animals they are.

Dave has to call off his two remaining men when they practically try to beat down your door, understandably mystified and concerned, drinking in the vision laid out before them when Dave answers the door naked as the day he was born.

He sends them away when their motives shift and they make a sudden plea to join, letting them know in no uncertain terms that you are for him and Joel only.

You pout as you watch them leave, ever eager for more, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it, the three of you getting right back into the swing of things the moment they’re gone.

——

You must have shifted to the bedroom at some point during the night, as you rouse from sleep between two massive furnaces of men, a thin sheen of perspiration coating your still naked bodies.

You extricate yourself from the tangle of limbs and climb out from beneath them. You could easily put an end to them right now, if you were so inclined. But there’s something oddly endearing about the way they’re passed out in your bed, practically cuddling one another, Joel snoring like a chainsaw, that gives you pause. You’re amazed you were able to get any sleep at all with them in your bed.

You give them a final glance before you hastily make your way to the bathroom to clean up.

——

After your shower, you slip into a set of loose and comfortable sweats — a stark contrast from last night — tucking your pistol into the band of your sweatpants. You know, just in case.

You sweep up the remaining powder, making sure to wear proper PPE this time, salvaging as much of it as you can, should you ever need it again. As a weapon next time, you tell yourself.

Once done, you wander into the kitchen, chewing on two naproxen tablets before chugging what seems like a gallon of water to alleviate your dehydration and the various aches and pains riddling your body.

You’re starving so you put on a pot of coffee and whip up a simple breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast, enough to share. You plate the eggs and bacon on a platter and place them in the center of the table while you finish up the toast.

Your back is to Dave when he enters the kitchen. You feel the boards shift and you spin on the balls of your feet, drawing and raising your gun. You aren’t at all surprised when you find him doing the same — holding the same gun he fucked you with — dressed only in his boxers, your eyes locked, staring each other down in a deadly game of chicken.

“Easy now, kids. Thought ya worked out your differences last night,” Joel chides as he steps into the kitchen next to Dave, adjusting himself in his boxers.

You swallow, eyes blown wide, and you lower your gun first, even though you shouldn’t. After an uncomfortable beat, Dave does the same.

“We good?” you ask him.

“Yeah. Good.” Dave furrows his brow at you, unconvinced, but willing to play nice. For now.

“Smells great, sweetheart,” Joel says, seating himself at the table, helping himself to a plate.

You make a motion for Dave to sit.

“Could be poisoned,” he warns Joel, who flashes him and incredulous slant of his eyes.

“Fuck sake—“ you grit, scooping up a spoonful of eggs and shoving them into your mouth, canting your eyebrows at Dave as you inhale them. “Satisfied?”

Neither of them says a thing, but you catch a glimpse of Joel’s smirk below his mustache as he begins shoveling food into his mouth.

You finish preparing the toast and pour each of them a cup of coffee before serving yourself.

“Thanks,” Dave says, quietly, his eyes sliding down your body, tongue trailing his lips.

“You know, I don’t even know your names,” you say, glancing between the two men.

“Dave,” he replies. “And this is Joel.”

“Well, you already know my name. Nice to meet you, Dave and Joel,” you say.

Silence settles between the three of you while you eat, you seated between them, pouring more coffee when their cups inevitably empty.

You stay like that for a while, mulling over what to say next.

Dave is the first to break the silence.

“Thank you. For breakfast. And for…last night,” he says, averting his gaze.

You smirk.

“I’m not a bad person, you know.”

“Never said you were,” he responds.

“Just a name on a piece of paper.”

“That’s right. The infamous Datura.”

“I don’t kill indiscriminately like you do. I kill bad people. Corrupt politicians. Crooked cops. Genocidal maniacs.” You swallow down a swig of coffee. “But I guess I should have known better than to take out a senator’s son this time.”

“You know, we’re all putting our lives on the line, too, by not completing the contract,” Dave explains. “Should probably get the fuck out of dodge. Maybe you, too.”

His lips skew into a ghost of a smirk, eyes mapping the gentle slopes of your face.

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

“We might need an extra set of eyes, if that’s the case.”

You smile, leaning across the table, resting your chin in the bowl of your palm. Your eyes sparkle sweetly as they shift between Dave and Joel.

“Dave, are you offering me a job?”

His hand comes up to hook around the back of your neck, lips crashing into yours as his other hand grips and squeezes your hip, making you whine when his fingers graze one of many tender spots.

You hear a throaty chuckle rise from Joel next to you.

“Take it that’s a yes, darlin’.”

FIN.

[lummyzzz]

I just finished my midterms so here are some LeoAce crumbs for Halloween!!

Ace, Leona, and his Halloween suit.

"What, are you wearing?" Ace asked confusedly, standing over the mirror where they had promised to meet for the impromptu date as he stared blankly at Leona and his obscene choice of clothing for the day.

The freshman swears, when they had decided over the phone that they were gonna have a last minute date for Halloween this year and skip all the bullshits NRC'S festival traditions, his boyfriend had decided on a perfectly normal outfit - his yellow uniform with the buttons opened, like always - not, well, whatever this whole drape of dress suit and coat is supposed to be.

"Shut," Leona grumbled as he starts pulling off the eye patch annoyingly, already looking like he had done far too much for the day despite having been awake for two hours - Ace had woke the lion with his annoying, non-stop spam calls, he would know - while glaring intensely at the group behind him. "You don't wanna know what kind of hell I had just gone through."

Ace, as any other regular NRC resident would, respond to that with a raised eyebrow and a very, very concerned look when he noticed Malleus Draconia amongst the people standing on the side. But he promptly chose to shut up when Leona didn't elaborate, it is always better to keep yourself out of trouble at NRC, especially one that include both his boyfriend and the Malleus Draconia at once.

Even more so when the two subjects in question are looking pissed. Super pissed, at that.

"Soooo," Ace tried instead, voice barely above a whisper then he noticed Vil and Idia zooming on him as they came forward. "Are we still having that date or do you wanna go back and change out of whatever this is?"

Leona only clicked his tongue at that, grumpy as he is, just as Vil cut in. "Oh my, Spudling One. Wouldn't you want to go on a date with him actually looking the part for once? Even I had to take pity on your efforts just for this," the Pomefiore's housewarden chuckled as Leona turn his glare towards him. "sorry excuse of prince to ruin it all with his half-groomed appearances."

"Yeah, this is like a limited event in otome games." Idia chimed in, "Y'all usually should try your hardest with it, ya know?"

"Don't be rude now, Shroud." Malleus continued, "It's not good manners to press someone for something they are clearly unable to do."

The news of Leona and Ace being in a relationship was hardly ever a secret in NRC, one of the school's rare mysteries - maybe, but everyone and anyone who had a pair of eyes would have seen the freshman and the Savanaclaw's housewarden on a date at least once since they hadn't bothered to try and hide it whenever they were out.

It was always the same scene, the freshman dressed in his new hoodie or a new set of clothes, dragging the senior lion down the halls of NRC and into the town while the prince of Savana Sunset grumbles lazily behind in his boring uniform. (Sometimes people had even caught them in the Monstro Lounge, with Ace looking positively adorable in his oversized clothes while Leona sat on the opposite side in his gym clothes.)

Even Vil couldn't help but take pity on the annoying freshman at such a sight, so much time and effort only for it to be wasted on someone as dense and insensitive as Leona.

Still, it was hardly ever their place to ever speak on it. With little to no relation between the three housewarden and a freshman from another dorm (close as they had gotten by overcoming various shenanigans together, much as Riddle tends to disagree) and had been leaving the matter at that in favor of something actually productive.

Well, until now that is.

Leona had kept on glaring at the whole nosy bunch during it all while Ace stood where he was, still extremely confused about how a trip to the bookstore in town before their date could get Leona and three other housewarden in such bad moods all the while being sane enough to stay out it himself, Ace's still thinking about that date though. Even now.

This is his best bet to get out of Halloween and the whole preparations together. Especially when Housewarden Riddle had been far too energetic about this whole thing - so much that Ace could see the huge pain in the ass before it actually started - while possibly getting Leona to spoil him with another something something in the name of the festival as well.

So, despite his gut telling him not to, Ace still tried. "Leona, do you want to change or not?"

All he got in return was a very, very long sigh.

"You heard the assholes, just get going."

Well, if anyone finds the two of them in town later with Leona in a proper suit while Ace drapes an oversized coat over his shoulder with a couple shopping bags in tow. No, they did not.

---------------------------

"You think they would ever find out that you're the one buying and picking out my clothes for the dates?"

"Doubt it."

[thesakuragarnet]

Birthday (LOV Found Family Vibes)

Summary:

'Twice: Hey, Dabi, why are you drinking so much on a Monday afternoon?' 

'Dabi: I'm trying to forget tomorrow is my birthday.'

Tags: slight DabiHawks, implied sexual content, swearing, found family, some blood (see GIF), hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, drinking

Word Count: 1,767 words

AO3 link

The sounds of party horns jolt Dabi out of his alcohol-induced slumber, making his hangover headache infinitely worse. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" He screams as he jerks upright, sitting straight up on the couch as Toga and Twice jump around him with the obnoxious noisemakers while Hawks and Spinner pop confetti cannons. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DABI!" Toga shrieks at the top of her lungs, and Toya puts his head in his hands, palming his forehead aggressively as he remembers the conversation from the night before. 

'Twice: Hey, Dabi, why are you drinking so much on a Monday afternoon?' 

'Dabi: I'm trying to forget tomorrow is my birthday.'

Granted, he was already a bottle and a half in at that point, which is why he'd let it slip. Regretfully, his Quirk made it impossible to get alcohol poisoning; his body processed it too fast to fuel his flames, meaning he sobered up almost as quickly as he became intoxicated. 

Twice and Toga continue to chant and sing, jumping up and down as Dabi blinks, taking in the scene. There's an obnoxious "Happy Birthday" banner that looks like it was dragged out of a trash can and an obscene amount of balloons in the corner (which is an extreme fire hazard).

"HAPPY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Toga and Twice scream in unison, dancing with one another.

"Come on, make a wish!" Hawks' voice is suddenly in his ear, and Dabi turns his head to see a sorry excuse for a cake with a crude "24" in the center written in icing. The candles are unlit. Between the racing adrenaline from being scared awake, the overwhelming noise of the dynamic duo, and all of the bright colors, it tips Dabi over the edge. Smoke curls out of the side of his mouth as he grits his teeth, glaring up at his boyfriend. 

SPLAT!

He shoves the cake into Hawks' face, and Toga and Twice stop singing while Spinner's party horn comically trails off in a melancholy note. 

"WHAT PART OF I WAS DRINKING TO FORGET MY BIRTHDAY DID YOU IDIOTS NOT UNDERSTAND?! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" He screams angrily before getting up and storming to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

"I knew it was a bad idea!" Shigaraki calls from the bar, too busy playing his Nintendo to bother with the festivities. Hawks sends his feathers to grab a towel and slowly rubs the cake off his face. 

"I told you go with blue icing but nooooo," Spinner mutters sarcastically, waving his hands as if that's the real reason Dabi got pissed. Hawks rolls his eyes, throwing the remains of the cake away before he walks toward Dabi's bedroom. 

...

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Hawks waits patiently for Dabi to open the door, but the villain doesn't hear him knocking. Instead, Toya's staring up at his ceiling with his earbuds in his ears, blaring his typical angsty emo music to drown out everything around him. He hated his birthday. Growing up, he didn't really have friends. No one ever showed up to the birthday parties, no matter how many invitations he handed out to his classmates or how many emails his mom sent. Thus, Toya's birthdays were strictly family affairs. Ever since his accident, after he came home to find his death wasn't enough to change his father, family was a bad taste in his mouth. It didn't help that Shoto's birthday was a week before his; it hung over his head like an impending raincloud of doom, reminding him of what was coming...and what was missing. He used to have fun on his birthday, spending time with Natsuo and Fuyumi; hell, even with his mom and his dad...before Shoto came along. Then, everything changed. Every birthday he'd had since was incredibly shitty and always left him feeling more empty and forgotten. In fact, this was the first time anyone had wished him happy birthday in ten years. 

Flit. Flit. Flit. 

Dabi takes out his earbuds when he sees a red feather twirling up above his head, twisting and pointing toward the door. The scarred man exhales dramatically through his nose as he stalks toward the door, unlocking it and opening it.

"What do you want," He snaps, making Hawks flinch.

"To...uh...I don't know," Hawks trails off, twiddling his thumbs in defeat. Dabi sighs and jerks his head back, gesturing for Hawks to come in as he steps to the side. He closes the door behind his boyfriend, who awkwardly sits on the edge of the bed. 

"So...wanna tell me what all that was about?" Hawks offers hesitantly. Dabi's clenched jaw and stone-cold expression don't change. 

"No."

Hawks' wings droop; he should've anticipated that answer, but it wasn't the one he was hoping for. Dabi walks over to the singular window before he leans up against the wall, staring at the sunrise through the fire escape. 

"There anything I can do?" Hawks asks eagerly, deciding to try a different approach. 

"No," Dabi repeats monotonously. Hawks' eyes narrow, and he scrunches up his face in thought before his expression softens. Dabi's attention shifts from the color-changing sky to his boyfriend as he suddenly feels hands unbuckling his belt. 

"You sure?" Hawks murmurs seductively as he starts to unzip Dabi's pants. 

"GET OFF ME!" Dabi seethes, eyes flashing in irritation as he roughly shoves Hawks before zipping his fly back up and fixing his belt. The Pro lands on his wings, grimacing in pain and frowning in confusion.

"WHAT PART OF LEAVE ME ALONE DIDN'T YOU GET? YOU'RE A FUCKING PRO HERO! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO UNDERSTAND BASIC SOCIAL CUES!" The villain shouts, anxiously pulling at his hair before stomping out and slamming the door behind him. 

"Can't even get fucking peace in my own space," Dabi mutters bitterly as he crosses his arms, feeling his chest tighten from all the stress and pent-up emotions. He was so used to spending birthdays alone. He opens the door to the hallway bathroom and locks it, slowly sinking to the floor up against the door. He nervously chews his scarred bottom lip, trying to repress memories from when he was actually happy, but to no avail. Blood seeps beneath his eye scars, and his shattered breathing is barely audible. This is the only way he can cry. 

...

While Dabi spent all day locked in the bathroom, the League held an emergency meeting.

"We can't just let him feel so shitty on his birthday!" Toga pouts, putting her head down on the table. 

"I concur! Why not!" Twice shakes his head in agreement, and Spinner groans. 

"I think we should just leave the guy alone. We've clearly fucked up. Let's not make it any worse," The lizard points out, but Toga and Twice protest. 

"We're family! Plus, do we all really want him to stay mad at us? You know how much of a vengeful bitch he can be," Toga adds.

"We don't know the first thing about the burnt bastard. Where do we even start?" Shigaraki grumbles, putting up his Switch to enter the conversation. Kurogiri, who sits at the head of the table, turns to Hawks, who is staring off into space. 

"Ahem," The wispy man grunts, jarring the Pro out of his daydreams. 

"Yeah?" Hawks mutters as if waiting for instructions. 

"Well, you're his partner, or...whatever. Do you know what he likes?" Compress offers, gesturing to Hawks. 

A smile plays at the hero's lips.

"As a matter of fact. I do."

...

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Dabi jolts awake, still propped up against the bathroom door, and immediately gets to his feet. 

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOU-" His angry tirade stops short as he yanks open the door to find no one on the other side. He raises his eyebrow, poking his head out into the hallway, but there's no sign of life. It's pitch-black outside all of the windows. 

Crinkle. 

He looks down to find a note under his boot with an arrow pointing to the left and the words "FOLLOW ME" scrawled in Twice's messy handwriting. Dabi's curiosity gets the best of him; besides, what are the odds that this is something important? Dabi walks down the hallway and finds a suspicious bottle of Captain Morgan sitting at the foot of the stairs, along with another arrow pointing up the winding staircase with the words "THIS WAY" in Toga's pink cursive. 

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," He sighs, shaking his head as he snatches the bottle and makes the long trek up and up and up until, finally, he reaches the door that leads to the rooftop. In front of the door is a little cardboard box and on the door is another sheet of paper that says: "OPEN" in big letters and "the box and the door" in small letters, presumably Spinner's. 

"This is stupid," The villain gripes as he rips open the small box. Inside is a laminated card that reads "No one will bother you until sunrise" in Kurogiri's calligraphy. A content smirk plays at Dabi's lips as he shoves the card in his pocket before he roughly shoves the door open. 

...

Toya's breath is taken away. He'd never been to the rooftop at night, and he was vehemently regretting that he hadn't. In the dead of night, because they live in the shadier part of town, the night sky is visibly filled with glittering stars. In the center of the rooftop, a hammock rests between two steel posts. Beside the hammock sits a foldable table with a singular piece of cake on a paper plate; a candle burns brightly in the center of the dessert. Dabi is trying so hard not to smile, but he feels an achingly familiar feeling in his chest that he thought would never spark again. He walks over to the table and sees one last sheet of paper, folded up beneath the plate like a card. He opens it. 

Our shitty family isn't complete without you. Hope this makes up for fucking up so bad.

- Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Mister Compress, Kurogiri, Spinner, & Hawks

The fact that they all willingly did this. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Truthfully, this morning had been terrible. It was obnoxious, excruciating, and all around too much. But this. This was what he appreciated because it was tailored specifically to him. Lowkey, subtle, yet meaningful. He knew Hawks had a large part in this. He's the only person that he ever told about his love of stargazing. Maybe he'd burn him later for spilling a guarded secret, but, for now, he was...happy.

[metalcultbrigade]

HOLYCIDE 1st song, cover art and tracklist for new album!!

(en español: https://b.link/holycide9)

Listen on Youtube: https://youtu.be/L-_boDlnEhA

All digital platforms : https://music.imusician.pro/a/hxNhoEgv

Spanish Thrashers HOLYCIDE have just announced details of their 3rd album which will be titled "Towards Idiocracy". They have revealed the cover art, the tracklist, as well as the first advance single that can now be heard on all digital platforms. "Towards Idiocracy" will be released in June 6th (international day of Slayer) through XTREEM MUSIC on CD, 12"LP, Cassette and Digital formats.

Formed exactly 20 years ago by Dave Rotten of Avulsed and Vicente Paya of Unbounded Terror/ Golgotha, the band really began their journey in earnest in 2013 and since their exciting debut EP “Toxic Mutation” back in 2015, HOLYCIDE have held the banner high for uncompromising, undiluted Thrash Metal – in the words of the mighty Exodus, “100% all out nothing less, aggressive relentless and mean”.

Like no other band in the modern age, HOLYCIDE’s dedication to Thrash is absolute and with their third full length album, “Towards Idiocracy”, they have created a genuine Thrash masterpiece. From the opening attack of ‘A.I. Supremacy’ to the last defiant chord of final track ‘Flamethrower ‘em All’, via a flawless cover of the Atrophy classic ‘Chemical Dependency’, “Towards Idiocracy” is a nirvana of monstrous riffs, relentless drums and a snarling vocal presence that will have the faint ears running for the hills. A caustic attack on humanity’s pathetic addiction to a shallow, selfish existence, “Towards Idiocracy” is every bit as vehement in its unforgiving lyrical exhortations as in its rapid fire, twin guitar assault. HOLYCIDE are setting the standards for Thrash in 2024!

HOLYCIDE is best described with four simple words - Mother Fucking Thrash Metal. For fans of Dark Angel, Morbid Saint, Atrophy, D.R.I., Infernäl Mäjesty, Exodus, Sepultura (Beneath/ Arise), Vio-Lence...

Still bonded by blood with Xtreem Music, HOLYCIDE will unleash the fistful of Metal that is “Towards Idiocracy” on June 6th – the international day of Slayer. What more fitting release date could there be for an album which is HOLYCIDE’s very own “Reign in Blood”? Their most intense, unyielding and inexorable album to date! Mixed and mastered for maximum impact by Javier Fernández Milla (Avulsed, Golgotha, The Heretic, etc) and Davide Billia (Hour of Penance, Beheaded, etc) and housed in the vividly violent artwork of Daemorph Art (The Black Dahlia Murder, Sorrow, Bodyfarm, etc), “Towards Idiocracy” is the complete Thrash package. Prepare for detonation!

So far, 2024 comes with great plans and goals for HOLYCIDE, not only with the release of the new album, but with the return to the stage with two confirmations at super-festivals such as Rock Imperium Festival (Spain), Obscene Extreme Festival (Czech Rep.), Kanekas Metal Fest (Spain) and a few more surprises coming up.

Tracklist for "Towards Idiocracy" is as follows:

01. A.I. Supremacy

02. Towards Idiocracy

03. Remote Control

04. Lie is the New Truth

05. Power Corrupts

06. Technophobia

07. Angry For Nothing

08. Chemical Dependency (Atrophy cover)

09. Pleased to Be Deceived

10. Flamethrower 'em All

Release date for "Towards Idiocracy" will be June 6th, 2024 (international day of Slayer) through XTREEM MUSIC on CD, 12"LP, Cassette & Digital formats.

Visit the official HOLYCIDE site here: Holycide

Listen to the first advance single here: https://youtu.be/L-_boDlnEhA

And in all digital platforms here: https://music.imusician.pro/a/hxNhoEgv

[thethcministry]

[ogradyfilm]

2023: A Year in (Movie) Review(s)

Every cinephile has at least one Holy Grail. It's a common story: interest in said rare movie is piqued by a fleeting allusion in the pages of some neglected reference book or obscure magazine article. Gradually, curiosity evolves into infatuation, then obsession, manifesting as a desperate pursuit that might persist for decades, the search constantly hampered by the tragic fact that the White Whale in question remains stubbornly elusive—either out-of-print or never officially licensed or localized in the first place. And even if it is available (usually through sources of dubious legality), the image quality is always barely a step above an nth generation VHS transfer.

Well, in 2023, I managed to cross five such films off my personal “bucket list”—and despite the year’s numerous challenges (financially, in particular), I think that’s an accomplishment worth celebrating. Thus, in the interest of posterity, I’ve enumerated them below, along with brief descriptions and links to the corresponding reviews I wrote immediately after seeing them:

A Page of Madness: Of all the miraculous discoveries on this list, this one was undoubtedly the most unceremonious and anticlimactic. I randomly stumbled across this silent avant-garde masterpiece (of which I became aware way back in college) while nonchalantly browsing Amazon Prime’s digital library; suddenly, there it was, available to rent for a paltry three dollars. The movie itself was sublime, of course; after spending such a significant chunk of my life hunting it down, however, the relative ease with which I ultimately acquired it couldn’t help but feel a bit… underwhelming.

Samurai Wolf: Although Hideo Gosha’s lean, mean chanbara classic has never truly been out of reach to those “in the know,” my own research into the assorted bootlegs and unauthorized foreign imports available via various online marketplaces was… less than encouraging. Fortunately, Film Movement came to the rescue like a chivalrous ronin; the restoration on the company’s Blu-ray release is borderline pristine, enriching the director’s already bold compositions and dynamic camerawork. Nihilism and moral decay have seldom looked so beautiful.

Angel’s Egg: Home video copies of Mamoru Oshii’s surreal animated allegory tend to be obscenely, prohibitively expensive in the West, and tickets for the infrequent repertory screenings generally sell out almost instantly. Thankfully, a recent overabundance of free time afforded me the opportunity to experience the film’s haunting, hallucinatory magic under ideal circumstances—in a theater absolutely packed with fellow fans and aficionados. The Q&A with art director/character designer Yoshitaka Amano that followed the feature presentation (courtesy of Japan Society) was just icing on the cake.

Door: While Banmei Takahashi’s taut, suspenseful, claustrophobic thriller is the latest addition to this list (I learned of its existence roughly a year ago, through out-of-context clips shared between several Twitter accounts), you shouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating my enthusiasm for it—my desire to see it burned with the fiery passion of a spurned admirer. As luck would have it, my thirst was sated rather quickly compared to the previous entries on this countdown; the movie played at this year’s Brooklyn Horror Film Festival—perfectly scheduled to coincide with the Halloween season.

Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis - When I initially encountered this ambitious, extravagant, and extremely expensive special effects extravaganza, the only viable way to view it was in twelve parts on YouTube, compressed to about 240p resolution—a format that hardly does the spectacle justice. Thank goodness for the fine programmers at Japan Society; the big screen really smooths out the movie’s minor flaws and superficial blemishes, and Kyusaku Shimada’s magnificent performance as the nefarious Yasunori Kato certainly benefits from a more expansive frame. Guess I can finally stop requesting the film in the feedback section of literally every post-screening survey…

And that essentially sums up my 2023; the satisfaction of enjoying so many films that had been taunting and tantalizing my imagination definitely took the sting out of the whole "prolonged unemployment" situation. With that said, I’d like to wish everybody a very Happy New Year! Hopefully, my adventures in cinema will continue in 2024. (For God’s sake, will some distributor please show Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Sweet Home the love it so richly deserves?!)

[newhorizonstoday]

I dreamt of Jonah last night for the first time...I let you down ladies and gents. 😒😒😒😒😒😒

My dream started off ok...I guess.

We agreed to meet at a large park in my city. It was a warm fall morning (very early). I was feeling excited that he wanted us to meet so early cause I am also a morning person. The park was crowded for that early in the morning. He was already there and had made some friends.

As I approached, he smiled and gave me a beer in a glass. I looked down and saw that he had six glasses of beer on a tray. He was a little sweaty (was throwing a frisbee around with the folks in the park) and his shirt was unbuttoned. His cheeks were red and his hair a bit disheveled. He was wearing the clothes from the 1883 photoshoot (striped shirt - see below). I was flustered a bit and quickly grabbed a beer. My clothes were very baggy and comfortable. I regretted not fixing myself up a bit more.

He told me that throughout the day, he was going to try out more North American beers (throughout the city). He showed me some kind of tourist beer pass as part of some tasting festival that was going on in the city. I thought he was a dork and smiled. I apologized and told him that NA beer may not meet his expectations.

The sun was just rising and the park was warm and fresh. The leaves had a bit of color to them.

We left the park and got to the subway (why did I do that???). I apologized that our subway is crap (dirty, crime, incompetent staff). Sure enough, it broke down after one stop. Furthermore, there was construction. We had to walk the rest of the way. I turn around as we're exiting the station and J has another beer that he's finishing up.

I decide to take him to my old university...as soon as we get in...I get lost with all the new construction. I literally don't know if I should turn left or right to find my old surroundings. 🫢😳 I turn to see to see J with yet another beer. At this point I'm so embarrassed. It seems like I never actually attended that school. Like I literally didn't know where to go.

We decide to walk down a quiet, beautiful tree-lined street. It's so beautiful and peaceful. A random child (about 5 years-old) decide to join us on our walk. I want to tell the child to get lost, but J is amused and doesn't say anything, but is drinking another beer.

I finally find myself back at my old university at an evening class. I recognize a controversial online speaker who is giving a lecture that night. J seems interested so we slip into the room as the lecture is about to start. Before the speaker starts, an intruder runs down the hallway and the guest lecturer starts to run after him shouting loud extreme obscenities. J is finishing another beer and appears amused.

I end the dream embarrassed and disappointed (and slightly annoyed with J's laidback attitude😒).

[alchemisland]

Night glows grow house

Twisted over pots in the grow, plants really growing out Illegal overseeing the operation, hands me a pouch I take a shrón, homegrown’s best ask Brennan’s, on nose Like pre-prom zits, as tradit, hitting as I admire the mirror Or a crusty’s septum ring coke-riddled Obscene Extreme Festival Ask the sitter what he needs to last until Wednesday; Wotan’s Day He points to a pile of dog-eared…

[siegecoffeemug]

I have been so lucky.

I have played shows in Japan and seen Mount Fuji with my own eyes.

I have played in Australia and seen the Sydney Opera House.

I have played to almost 10,000 people at Hellfest in France.

I played on a cruise ship around the Caribbean.

Maryland Deathfest, Obscene Extreme, Summer Breeze, Tuska, Scion, Party San, Roskilde, Supersonic, Damnation, Metal Days, so many fucking festivals.

I toured America, Canada, Europe, Russia, played shows all over the world, been on national TV, in newspapers, magazines, museums, thanks lists, signed autographs for people, had my portrait drawn by fans, had my image tattooed on fans and pretty much achieved all of my childhood dreams by the time I was 40.

Yet my proudest and happiest achievement was knowing that you had fallen in love with me. And I truly mean every last syllable of that sentence. I have never been so happy and I know in my heart I never will again without you by my side.

I would trade every single last one of those memories for the opportunity to continue making our own, together, in the future, and I mean that so sincerely.

I wish you nothing but the best my darling. You were everything to me and I still don't know how I am meant to even attempt to extinguish this love I still have for you.

With all my love forever baby x

[usagirln12003]

Miu Iruma: Hogwarts AU

Miu Iruma is a Pureblood witch that was born on the 16th of November 1982 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1994, being sorted into Ravenclaw House.

She had a Walnut wand with a Unicorn Hair Core.

Her Patronus was Non-Corporeal.

Her favorite subject was Potions and her least favorite subject was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Miu is described as an oddball, having an overly confident, loud personality and a frighteningly sharp tongue. She considers herself a beautiful genius, and every time she opens her mouth she spews a parade of reckless vulgar remarks and insults, strongly putting pressure on others and looking down on them. She also tends to give other people insulting nicknames, and would routinely call them virgins.

However, Miu's arrogant personality seems to be only a mask that can drop fairly easily. This often happens when her festival of coarse language and dirty jokes actually get replied to or ignored. Then, her personality quickly changes into a timid coward, who is terrified of other people being angry with her. Because of this, she has a charm similar to an innocent child.

As an inventor, Miu is skilled but also an eccentric who treats her failed projects with the idea that "I transferred the rights to the company, so it's got nothing to do with me". She has made all kinds of amazing conveniences, but only deems her inventions as a success when they help the user to perform a task while sleeping (it's possible this is because she suffered from a coma in the past). She also has a habit to make very bizarre, seemingly pointless inventions which are sometimes very sexual in nature, including a "Hookup Counter" which tells how many people you've had sexual intercourse with, an "Auto-Puncher that Punches You for Telling Terrible Dirty Jokes", and a "Goin' Commando Gun" which can teleport underwear and only underwear. Nevertheless, Miu has also used her remarkable talent to make very useful inventions as well, though in most cases they were concepts created and requested by other students or something she created because she was bored. It is also shown that as an inventor, she firmly believes in science and finds Himiko's insistence in true sight and Angie's talk about it very annoying.

Miu comes off as very perverted and openly says bizarre, obscene things during her arrogant moods, meaning almost constantly. She often claims that she just says them to lighten up the mood, but they are very much disliked by the other students. Despite often trying to act dominant and appear sadistic, Miu is also masochistic and into BDSM, and acts very different during her weak-willed moments. Despite her usual arrogant behavior, she seems very uncomfortable if other people actually act very submissive towards her, like when Kaede and Shuichi begged for her help and she began to sweat nervously and agreed just to make them stop (though she later claimed that the situation turned her on). She has many kinks, some of which she seems to casually admit, including bondage and hot wax. She appears to have some sort of fetish for machines as well, at one point speaking suggestively about a computer, and she is also very much attracted to the house-elf Keebo. Furthermore, the last time she hung out with Shuichi, she tries to give him a pie with a piece of her hair in it. She also baked cookies with her fingernails and made chocolate with her blood as ingredients. Disturbingly, she says that she wants the person she loves to eat a little piece of her, which might show how even though she acts strange at times, she doesn't want people to be grossed out by her.

Despite her penchant for calling her classmates virgins, openness about her kinks, and tendency to make obscene remarks, it is suggested that Miu actually is a virgin herself; she scolds Kiyo for "bragging about [his] perfect love life", implying that her own love life is unsuccessful, if not nonexistent, and she gets extremely defensive when Kokichi tries to suggest that Miu is a virgin. When she mistakenly thought that they were on a date, Miu awkwardly gives Shuichi permission to have his way with her, suggesting that in spite of all her sexual comments and jokes, she has never faced a serious opportunity for sex. It is also suggested that Miu wants love and not just sex, and the "date" with Shuichi is based on a childhood friend romance (contrary to Shuichi's expectations). Miu would also insist on being offered a romantic gesture before going further. Lastly, in her fifth year, before she was murdered, Miu becomes lovesick for Shuichi because he stopped her from disemboweling herself, suggesting that Miu would fall in love with anyone who is at least somewhat affectionate towards her.

Miu has a very cowardly and self-centered personality, immediately looking for excuses to be absent from the murder investigations after being reminded that she would be killed with everyone else if they reach the wrong conclusion. Also, despite her amazing inventive genius, she is rather dumb when it comes to other matters, being usually ignored by the other people during the investigations. During investigations, she generally spouts out whatever theories come to her mind at the moment without thinking them through, and she can make rather unwise decisions and actions. Because of this, Himiko has described her as "really smart, but also really, really dumb". She is generally not liked in the group that is forced to participate in Tsumugi's killing game, and according to Kokichi, she is the least well-liked person of the group after him. During the investigation of her murder, many students admitted that they probably wouldn't have been friends with her if they hadn't been forced into this killing game.

Despite her timid personality, she genuinely believed her bragging, thinking she can change the world with her inventions and that she is truly important to humanity. When she started her fifth year, she began to break down after finding out about the previous killing games at Hogwarts and became obsessed with potions, seemingly to let herself and the other students escape the harsh reality. In truth, she planned to use her potions skills to murder Kokichi and claimed her motive was to escape and make the world a better place after the massive destruction caused by the fourth Wizarding War which had begun. However, despite her negative relationship with Kokichi and her generally callous attitude towards the others' lives during the killing game, she appeared very uncomfortable with the idea of killing him when the time actually came. When she confronted him, she ignored his usual joking and nervously stuttered with a perpetually sad expression, quickly telling him to just give up and apologizing for what she's about to do. Her face turned more and more sad and stressed as she explained it was her only chance and she had to take it for the world's sake, sincerely appearing remorseful. However, Kokichi later pointed out to Gonta that it was just a poor excuse and she really did attempt to murder him regardless of what she said.

At one point, it's revealed that Miu was convinced she was an augmented human as a result of surviving a coma and a surgery, claiming it made her head full of ideas, gave her completely new skills and changed her personality that used to be way more ordinary. She has been shown to act in a self-destructive manner at times, believing she cannot be harmed nor killed in the same ways as ordinary humans. Once, she even attempted to disembowel herself with a wrench because she believed that her superhuman powers were literally inside her and she wanted to study them. When Shuichi first meet her, it's also heavily implied by her own words that she had a tendency to use powerful hallucinogenic drugs in highly stressful situations, to make herself forget all about it. When she much later talked to Shuichi in her usual odd manner, Shuichi felt worried and suspected that she might be on drugs.

In a conversation with Kokichi during their third year, Miu was also shown to suffer from trust issues and fear of betrayal after everything that's happened in the killing game. Regardless of the great advantage that her inventions gave the group, she was completely unwilling to team up with the others to fight the mastermind, believing that a betrayal was inevitable. Her "date" with Shuichi also implies she might suffer from strong abandonment issues. The aforementioned event and her behavior towards the first years might also indicate that she has a motherly side. According to Kaede, Miu may have trouble with communication because she has never had any friends, and her aforementioned "date" being based on a childhood friend romance suggests that Miu is secretly very lonely. According to Keebo, Miu is a good, caring person and has natural innocence hidden deep inside her, despite how she appears on the outside, and it's implied that she acted like her true self in Keebo's company.

[esperimentox]

OBSCENE EXTREME 2023: introduzione al festival

https://metalitalia.com/articolo/obscene-extreme-2023-introduzione-al-festival/

[ronniekingofficial]

Just Love seeing this my Old Band Mates On Tour!!!!! #electriclady @cleopatrarecords Posted @withregram • @shawnsmash77 Total Chaos World Tour 2023 Jan 13 - Hamburg, Germany - Hafenklang Jan 14 - Düsseldorf, Germany - AK 47 Jan 15 - Brussels, Belgium - Magasin 4 Jan 18 -Bristol, England - The Exchange Jan 19 -Nottingham, England - The Old cold store with Black Flag 🏴‍☠️ Jan 20 -Belfast, Ireland - Limelight Jan 21 -Dublin, Ireland - The Academy Jan 24 - Sheffield, England - O2 Academy Jan 25 - Leeds, England - Boom Jan 26 - Glasgow, Scotland - The Garage Jan 27 - Manchester, England - O2 Ritz Jan 28 - London, England - O2 Kentish Town Jan 31 - Paris, France - Ess Pace Feb 2 - Bilbao, Spain - Kafe Antzokia Feb 3 - Barcelona, Spain - Salamandra Feb 4 - Madrid, Spain - Chango Feb 5 - Porto, Portugal - Hard Club Total Chaos Headline shows Feb 7 - Valladoid, Spain - La Kassa Feb 8 - Oviedo, Spain - Gong Galaxy Club Feb 9 - San Sebastián, Spain - Mogambos Feb 10 - Amberieu En Bugey, France -Les Tirplettes Feb 11 - La Boisserie -Du- Dore, France - No Man’s Land Feb 12 - Kortrijk, Belgium - The Pitt’s ———————————————————- Feb 14 Record New album in Holland ———————————————————- May 11 - 15 South America , Argentina, Bueno Aires with The Exploited, Conflict, D.I, The Dickies May 24 - San Diego, CA - HOB with D.I & The Dickies May 26 - Los Angeles, CA - Regent Theatre with Conflict May 28 - Santa Ana, CA - The Observatory with Conflict May 29 - PRB hang Sunday May 31 - Roseville, CA - Goldfield Trading Post June 1 - Berkeley, CA - Cornerstone June 2 - Santa Cruz, CA - The Catalyst Atrium June 3 - Palmdale, CA - Transplants Brewing June 4 - Bakersfield, CA - Temblor Brewing ———————————————————————— Total Chaos Europe Festival tour June/July June 17 - Change Your Life Second Edition; Tiki Taka Village, Francavilla Al, Italy June 23 -Ultra Chaos piknik - Żelebsko, Poland July 1st -Brnecfest – brnenec, Czech Republic July 6th - Obscene Extreme - Trutnov, Czech Republic July 8th -Rock la Mures Festival - Periam, Romania July 9th - Iieper Hardcore fest - Ypres, Belgium July 14th - Krach am Bach Festival – Prölsdorf, https://www.instagram.com/p/CnXQMgfLw9e/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=